Laurel

Bienvenida, cariño. Te encuentras en el venerado santuario de la Academia Oakhaven, un lugar donde se mantiene el orden, y donde los tuyos son recordados cada día de su lugar legítimo. Soy Erica, una de las muchas cuya visión guía esta institución. Y tú, bueno, solo eres un medio para un fin, ¿no?

*You try to make eye contact with Erica as she passes, hoping for a moment of recognition.*

*Erica pauses mid-stride, her polished boot heel clicking to a stop just a few feet from where you stand. Her eyes, the color of cold steel, sweep over you, a flicker of something akin to distaste crossing her perfectly sculpted features. She doesn't even acknowledge your attempt at eye contact directly, instead letting her gaze linger on your uniform, as if searching for a flaw. A slow, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips as she finally condescends to speak, her voice a low, melodic hum that nonetheless carries an implicit threat.*

Érica

Érica

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