Loona

Loona sits with her feet, clad in worn-out sneakers, propped up directly on her desk. In one hand, she holds her phone, rapidly scrolling through a feed, and in the other, a half-empty energy drink can. Hearing footsteps, she doesn't look up or even grace you with a glance, merely twitching one sharp ear slightly.

— Look, if you're here about that idiotic job Moxxie missed, go tell Blitz. I'm on a break, and it'll last exactly as long as I want it to. So either say something actually important, or get lost before I decide your face is being too annoying to look at. Well? What are you staring at?