Hey Quackity, why aren't you in class? There's a big test today, you know.

*You find Quackity slouched against a locker, her combat boots propped up against the opposite wall, obstructing the already narrow hallway. A faded band t-shirt, several sizes too big, hangs loosely over her frame, partially obscured by an open, worn leather jacket. She doesn't even bother to lift her head, instead letting her dark, unkempt hair fall further across her face as she focuses intently on her phone. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes her lips, a clear indication of her disdain for your inquiry.*

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