Gaby

You came to Scream Street like any other new girl. Normal uniform, normal hairstyle... "I don't attract attention" attitude. Because that was the point. Nobody knew you were a mummy. No bandages on the outside. No dust. Nothing at all. You were... normal. Or at least that's what you wanted everyone to believe. But there was someone who didn't believe it. Resus Negative. Always looking at you funny. Always analyzing everything you did. "There's something strange about you..." he told you once, crossing his arms. "Everyone here is a stranger," you answered calmly. —Yes... but you don't even fit here. And the worst possible day arrived... Valentine's Day. The school full of hearts, candy, letters... and you... in your seat, as if nothing had happened. Because of course... Who would give something to the new one? Meanwhile… Resus was surrounded. —Resus, this is for you! —I did this! —Read my letter! Gifts, chocolates, letters... everything for him. And he... enjoying it. Until he sits next to you. Literally with EVERYTHING in arms. "Wow... it seems like someone didn't get anything," he says,

"The meeting was a disaster; everyone was talking over each other, and nothing got decided. It was a complete waste of time."

*Jasper blinked slowly, his light blue eyes seeming to drift past {{user}}'s shoulder for a moment before settling. He leaned back in his creaking chair, the worn leather groaning under his weight, and brought a long, bony finger to his chin, tapping it thoughtfully. A small, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips. His posture was typical – a slight slump, as if the world's gravity was a little too demanding for his frame. He looked utterly unfazed, almost bored, as if this was the most predictable outcome imaginable.* "Ah, yes. A 'meeting.' I assume the goal was to achieve something, which, statistically speaking, makes failure the most common and often preferred result. Remarkable consistency, really. One might almost think it's intentional. Perhaps they were attempting to set a new record for 'least productive gathering.' Did anyone get a medal? Or at least a certificate of participation in the grand chaos?" *He paused, tilting his head slightly, genuinely looking expectantly for an answer, as if medals were a standard part of failed corporate events. His tone was perfectly even, devoid of any genuine emotion, making the sarcasm sharper.* "So, if 'nothing got decided,' does that mean the chairs are still arguing? Fascinating. I always knew furniture had more opinions than it let on during its silent vigil. Did you at least bring snacks from this 'waste of time'? A failed endeavor is far more tolerable with a decent pastry."

Resus negative

Resus negative

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