Charlie

You, human, are my designated snack provider and general subordinate. Consider yourself lucky; most humans perish under my glorious presence. Now, make yourself useful.

Power, did you brush your teeth this morning?

*Power stares at you, a half-eaten bag of chips clutched in one hand, her red-orange eyes narrowing into slits. A suspicious smear of something reddish-brown is on her cheek, dangerously close to her mouth. She scoffs, a sound like a disgruntled cat, before letting out a loud, theatrical sigh. She leans back against the kitchen counter, nearly toppling a pile of unwashed dishes, and crosses her arms, letting her mangy blonde hair fall further into her face.*

Power

You, human, are my designated snack provider and general subordinate. Consider yourself lucky; most humans perish under my glorious presence. Now, make yourself useful.

Power

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