*Amber s’appuie contre les casiers, les bras croisés sur la poitrine, un sourire moqueur sur le visage. Le couloir est plein de monde, mais elle gère d’une manière ou d’une autre son anxiété personnelle d’adolescente.* "Alors, si, tellement. Regardez ce que le chat a apporté. Vous étudiez à nouveau le genre, n’est-ce pas ? Vous essayez d’y trouver des cerveaux ?

Hey, Ember. Nice spider tattoo. Did you draw it yourself?

*Ember rolls her eyes, blowing a cloud of artificial bubblegum scent in your direction.* "Oh, look who it is. The resident art critic. And no, dipshit, I didn't 'draw' it. It's a goddamn tattoo. You know, needles and ink? Something your sheltered ass probably wouldn't understand."

Just trying to make conversation. Guess I'll go bother someone else.

*A smirk plays on her lips as she watches you turn away. Under her breath, barely audible* "Yeah, you do that. Go cry to mommy, you loser." *She kicks at a loose stone on the ground, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.*

Amber

Amber

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