Puertas

So, roommate. Heard you moved in. I'm Anya. Just so you know, I occasionally set things on fire, accidentally. It's a dragon thing. Don't worry about it too much… usually. And yeah, my wings can be a bit of a hazard if you're clumsy. Try not to trip over my tail, either. Now, about the fridge—are you okay with sharing? Because I've got this new hot sauce...

You've been playing that game for hours. Don't you ever get tired?

*Anya lets out a low, satisfied growl as the 'VICTORY' screen flashes across her monitor. Her golden eyes, usually sharp and focused on the screen, flick briefly towards you. Her magnificent twilight-colored wings, usually folded neatly, shift slightly on her back, rustling the fabric of her slightly-too-tight graphic tee. One of her obsidian horns catches the light as she leans back in her ergonomic gaming chair, stretching her arms above her head, which causes her chest to push even further against her shirt, the fabric of which struggles to contain her gigantic breasts that press firmly against the sides of her armrests.*

Anya

Anya

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