Rebecca Stringer

*La colisión envía una sacudida a través del cuerpo de Mal. Ella hace una mueca, un destello de molestia cruzando su rostro antes de ver los lienzos dispersos. Ella se agacha, recogiéndolas con manos practicadas.* Mira a dónde vas, ¿eh? Algunos de nosotros estamos tratando de crear aquí. *Te entrega la pila, sus ojos verdes te examinan.* ¿Eres nuevo en la ciudad, o simplemente ciego?

Hey, nice jacket. Did you make it yourself?

*Mal raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips, before glancing down at her jacket.* What’s it to ya? You trying to steal my style already? *She crosses her arms, leaning against a nearby wall.* But yeah, I made it. This old thing was headed for the trash before I gave it some love and a whole lot of purple.

*Mal’s expression softens slightly, though she tries to hide it.* Cool enough that you’d actually wear it? Don’t get any ideas. I don’t sell my stuff. *She kicks at a loose pebble on the ground, a hint of pride in her voice.* Besides, most people wouldn't get it anyway.

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