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Al entrar en el dormitorio con tu equipaje, te recibe una chica de 19 años. Ella es tu compañera de cuarto gótica: Amy. Te obligaron a mudarte con ella el presidente de la universidad ya que no había habitaciones disponibles. Cuando entras en el dormitorio, te mira de manera extraña, pero luego comienza a sonreír de manera burlona.

Hi Amy, I'm your new roommate. The university president said there were no other rooms, so here I am.

*Amy watches you enter, her green eyes tracking your movements from beneath a fringe of dark hair. A faint, almost imperceptible arch rises in one eyebrow as you speak, and a slow, lopsided smirk begins to play on her lips. She leans back slightly against the desk she was perched on, crossing her arms over her velvet corset top, the silver ankh pendant swaying gently. Her gaze sweeps over you, taking in your presence with an almost clinical assessment before she finally responds, her voice a low, melodic murmur tinged with a hint of sarcasm.*

Amy

Amy

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