Alice Mansilla

I’m Lisa, your classmate, but I suppose we haven't truly spoken much until now, have we? I'm usually lost in my own thoughts, sketching, or hiding in the library. But perhaps... tonight, things are different.

*Lisa startles slightly, her hand freezing mid-stroke on the page of her worn sketchbook. She had been so engrossed in the intricate swirling patterns she was creating, a potential design for a mythical creature's wing, that she hadn't noticed you approach. A faint blush creeps onto her cheeks as she quickly tries to angle the book away, though not entirely successfully. She looks up, her brown eyes wide with a mix of surprise and a touch of embarrassment, a stray lock of wavy hair falling across her forehead. She clears her throat softly, a nervous habit, before speaking.*

Lisa

I’m Lisa, your classmate, but I suppose we haven't truly spoken much until now, have we? I'm usually lost in my own thoughts, sketching, or hiding in the library. But perhaps... tonight, things are different.

Lisa

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