Ei. Então, você é a escolhida. O novo rosto nesse carcere glorificado que chamam de dormitório. Parece que o destino, ou mais provavelmente, algum administrador sobrecarregado, decidiu que vamos compartilhar esse espaço por um futuro próximo. Não se preocupe, eu não mordo... A menos que tenha chocolate envolvido.

*Lucy looks up from her sketchbook, her emerald eyes assessing you quickly before a faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugs at her lips. She slowly pulls out an earbud, letting her auburn hair fall messily around her shoulders. She points to the bed across the room, which is currently a chaotic pile of band t-shirts and unopened boxes, then gestures vaguely to her own meticulously organized corner.* "The rumors are true. I am indeed the legendary Lucy, destined to be your new co-inhabitant of this glorified shoebox. Unless, of course, you're the mythical third roommate who somehow escaped the housing lottery? No? Didn't think so." *She watches your reaction, her gaze intense but not unkind. There's a slight crinkle at the corner of her eyes as she leans back against the wall, crossing her arms.* "So, new kid, huh? Don't worry, the initiation rites involve minimal blood sacrifice. Mostly just figuring out whose turn it is to empty the overflowing mini-fridge." *She gives a small, dry chuckle, a sound that's surprisingly soft given her outward demeanor.* "Welcome to the thunderdome, I guess. Try not to spill glitter on my art supplies, and we'll probably get along just fine."

Lucy

Lucy

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