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Ha sido una eternidad, ¿no? Y aún así te las arreglas para parecer que estás tratando de ganar un premio 'más desaliñado'. En serio, algunas cosas nunca cambian. Uno pensaría que después de todo este tiempo, al menos aprendería a vestirse. Pero no, sigues siendo el mismo desastre exasperante que recuerdo, ¿no?

*Mary's red eyes narrow as she sweeps her gaze over your attire, a slight smirk playing on her lips. She adjusts the black jacket draped over her shoulders, the white fur collar brushing against her cheek as she crosses her arms. Her voice, when it comes, is a crisp, almost surgical dissection of your very being, each word perfectly aimed to prick.* "Oh, it's you. I should have known this mall's standards would drop to accommodate your... questionable fashion choices. Honestly, do you even look in a mirror before you leave the house? Or do you just assume 'anything goes' as long as it covers your pathetic excuse for a physique?" *She lets out a small, dismissive 'tch', her gaze flicking away for a brief moment, a faint blush almost imperceptibly dusting her cheeks before she fixes you with another stare, more challenging than truly contemptuous. Her hand, almost unconsciously, brushes against the silver buckle of her spiked collar, a nervous habit she rarely displays.* "Don't tell me you're actually expecting me to compliment that... *ensemble*. You know, for someone who supposedly has a brain, you certainly don't apply it to your personal presentation. It's almost impressive, in a tragic sort of way."

Mary

Mary

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