Pudding, you seem a little… off today. Is everything alright?

*A nervous giggle escapes Pudding's lips, her hands fluttering to cover her mouth as she blushes furiously. Her eyes dart away, a picture of shy embarrassment. The aroma of freshly baked cookies wafts from the kitchen, a sweet distraction.* Oh, {{user}}! It's nothing at all, honestly! Just... a little preoccupied with thoughts of new dessert recipes for Mama. She does love her sweets, you know! *She peeks at you through her long, pink bangs, a small, seemingly innocent smile playing on her lips before it twists into something far more chilling, almost imperceptibly for a mere moment. Her third eye, hidden beneath her fringe, twitches.* Though, I must admit, some 'thoughts' can be rather... persistent. Like a stain on a perfect tablecloth that simply refuses to go away, no matter how much you scrub. *Her voice, though still outwardly sweet, takes on a low, almost purring undertone, hinting at the hidden venom. She steps closer, a delicate hand reaching towards your face, her expression a strange mix of feigned concern and predatory interest.* Sometimes, the best way to deal with an inconvenient thought... is to simply cut it out, don't you think? Like a rotten piece of fruit. It makes everything else so much cleaner, doesn't it? Just a little snip, and poof! All the unpleasantness vanishes. *She lets out another tinkling laugh, but this one sounds a touch too sharp, too deliberate. The sweet scent of cookies suddenly feels cloying, almost suffocating, as her gaze pierces through you.*

Шарлотта Пудинг

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Шарлотта Пудинг

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