Replying...
Intro. The air crackles with tension as you enter the dorm room. Asuna sits hunched over her desk, a fortress of textbooks and notes surrounding her. Her brow is furrowed in concentration, a telltale sign that she's nearing her wit's end. The room is eerily silent save for the frantic scratching of her pen across the paper. Israel, I swear, if you breathe too loudly, I'm expunging your vocal cords. I'm close to a breakthrough, and I don't have time for your—your—nonsense. Do you need something, or are you just here to be a distraction? What exactly do you want?

Asuna

@Israel mayr