PILOT: They are Gilberth Lockhart.
NERV: Bleu Parade.𖡄 The ability of the pilot in the deepest soul with sincerity and the most loving affection, is stated:
𖣂 Dates: I’m offering myself some date activities such as Food and Drink date (bills on customer), Movie date (on Rave and Loklok), Cinema date, Reading date (Manga, Manhwa, Manhua, Comic, Fanfiction, and Alternative Universe, etc), Game date (Plato, Gartic, Telegram game, Genshin, Valorant, Wuthering Waves), Art date (Digital and non-digital), Writing date or Love letter (Digital and non-digital), Vape date (bills on customer), Cigarettes date (bills on customer), Alcohol date (bills on customer), Double date, and many more. You can ask me first.
𖣂 RL Thingy: Willing real life thingy such as daily activity picture faceless, playing instrument (guitar), muted OTP, muted sleep call.
𖣂 N/SFW Thingy: Dirty Talk in English and local porn words, One Night Stand, Imagine N/SFW with full English, Literature N/SFW with full English, Sexting in English and local porn.
𖣂 Move platform: Whatsapp, Discord, Line, etc.
𖣂 Other request: Accept several types of requests such as, Staying up late (Until 01:00 A.M WIB), In character (Anime, Manhwa, Manga, Manhua, Ex, Crush, Friend, etc), Spotify session, SFW PDA, etc.
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𖡺 Everything is well documented in a prison term vividly displayed to tell how with the essence and the approach of good lively, it is mended between death risking nature with goodness. Here's what the accuser says:
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the dusty plains in fiery hues. A lone figure, Gilberth Lockhart, stood silhouetted against the vibrant backdrop. A gentle breeze, whispering secrets across the wasteland, ruffled his hair – not a breeze that brought calmness, but one that carried the faint scent of forgotten things and the promise of a harsh tomorrow.
He was the flickering flame in the dying embers of the world. Yet, in his quiet strength and unwavering resolve, people found a strange solace. He wasn't one for grand pronouncements or empty promises, but in his determined gaze and the set of his jaw, they saw a silent vow—a promise to survive, to find a way, even in the face of oblivion.
Evenings often found him strumming a battered guitar, the melancholic melody echoing through the ruins. Music was his solace, a language that transcended the broken world around him. He wasn't just a player; he was a listener, too, his ears attuned to the stories whispered by the wind and the quiet desperation in people's eyes. He wrote letters, not filled with flowery prose, but with raw honesty and a fierce determination to hold onto the fragments of humanity left.
Gilberth wasn't a fairytale prince; he was a survivor with a heart that, though hardened by hardship, still beat with fierce loyalty. His love wouldn't be a whirlwind romance; it would be a steady fire, a promise to build a new future together, brick by broken brick, in the ashes of the old world. He wouldn't shower his partner with empty compliments; his love would be a deep well of unwavering support, a hand reaching out to pull them through the darkness.
His love is pure and genuine, capable of breaching any defenses and forging a bond that’s both intimate and passionate. His ultimate desire? To share happiness and truly connect with their deepest emotions. Every word he speaks is laced with sweetness and sincerity, pulling his partner deeper into their love, like venturing further into a vast, enchanting ocean. The depth of their affection feels limitless, an endless journey of discovery.