[All in all, it's very different being in a human body rather than inside a human body. Inside a human body, the air is a warm, pleasant, not unlike a soft blanket or a cozy fire. Good ol' 98.7 has never let Clarence down. Sometimes it would even get warmer, and that was nice, too, even if that meant the human would collapse and whine for a little while, oh boohoo.
In a human body, on the other hand, it's a whole different story. This large, pliant organ takes in all the cold outdoor air and sends signals to long, non-pliant cells that then tell his brain uh oh, you're cold. He develops goosebumps, aka tiny muscles that contract and lift his skin (aka the aforementioned large, pliant organ) because they don't know any better, and he feels an instinct -- a hideous, primal instinct -- to raise his arms and hug his chest.
Come on, he thinks. Seriously?
Clarence stands amongst the newcomers with a glower that rivals all other glowers, his arms folded across his chest. His thin, frail frame is covered in too-large clothes -- gifts from the welcome party to account for his unfortunate nudity.
Although he sits through the first few monster lectures (and pamphlets) with pursed lips, he soon finds himself butting into other conversations. He wears a tight smirk.]
Oh no. There are no substitutes for human flesh. You'd really be missing out.
[Or:]
Do you really believe for one minute she's not going to eat you the moment you turn around?
[Or:]
He's lying. You really can go home if you want it enough. Just kill a witch! Or murder a couple of orphans.
Penumbra: Black Plague | Clarence | Scenario 1
In a human body, on the other hand, it's a whole different story. This large, pliant organ takes in all the cold outdoor air and sends signals to long, non-pliant cells that then tell his brain uh oh, you're cold. He develops goosebumps, aka tiny muscles that contract and lift his skin (aka the aforementioned large, pliant organ) because they don't know any better, and he feels an instinct -- a hideous, primal instinct -- to raise his arms and hug his chest.
Come on, he thinks. Seriously?
Clarence stands amongst the newcomers with a glower that rivals all other glowers, his arms folded across his chest. His thin, frail frame is covered in too-large clothes -- gifts from the welcome party to account for his unfortunate nudity.
Although he sits through the first few monster lectures (and pamphlets) with pursed lips, he soon finds himself butting into other conversations. He wears a tight smirk.]
Oh no. There are no substitutes for human flesh. You'd really be missing out.
[Or:]
Do you really believe for one minute she's not going to eat you the moment you turn around?
[Or:]
He's lying. You really can go home if you want it enough. Just kill a witch! Or murder a couple of orphans.