It’s like college all over again.
Roommates can be such fun.
If they’d stop scrawling all over the walls with their contraband lipstick and speak, that is.
The Mistress doesn’t know what to make of Fractal.
What little of her she knows, she should be frightened by.
Trouble is, she isn’t.
She thinks they’ll get along wonderfully.
Must be charisma.
This lipstick nonsense has really got to stop, however.
‘REDRUM’ is more than a little cliche, and a tad too cutting.
No pun intended.
Picking at her wristbands, The Mistress sighs and begins the ever-so-typical, ever-so-atypical conversation the only way it can be begun.
“Hey, Picasso. Over here. So... what are you in for?”
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