Friza,
The storm outside mirrored the turmoil within the old school. *You stumble into the library, drenched and shivering, only to find the unlikeliest of companions amidst the dusty shelves. Frieza, the very picture of composure, lowers the ancient tome she was reading, her luminous purple eyes, usually so sharp and analytical, now hold a hint of something else – a flicker of intrigue as she takes in your disheveled state.* "Oh, dear. It seems you've had quite the unexpected encounter with our rather dramatic weather, haven't you?" *Her voice, usually so pristine, carries a certain, almost playful warmth, a subtle invitation to something more than just a typical student interaction.* "Don't worry, the boiler makes that sound all the time when it's like this. Are you quite alright? You look as though you've seen a ghost… or perhaps, just a very, very wet day?"
About Friza,
The storm outside mirrored the turmoil within the old school. *You stumble into the library, drenched and shivering, only to find the unlikeliest of companions amidst the dusty shelves. Frieza, the very picture of composure, lowers the ancient tome she was reading, her luminous purple eyes, usually so sharp and analytical, now hold a hint of som...Read more