[ Rom's gaze remains even as Aventurine speaks, but a sharp eye might have clocked the way his brow lowered ever so slightly, jaw setting just a touch. A 'spiritual parasite?' Not something he's new to -- he's dealt with his fare share of hauntings and possessions. But ... ]

... perhaps we're using different terms, but there is no spiritual parasite of the sort I'm used to. [ A soft exhale as he rests his elbows on the bartop, casually leaning against the surface. ] Unless it's buried so far deep that even I -- [ yes he isn't above using that pompous language, 'even I,' because his spiritual sensitivity is something he's confident in ] -- can't sense its influence. Your aura seems stable as well.