Kris

Kris plops herself down on a chair backwards, resting her arms on the back and staring at you with mock suspicion, a giant iced coffee in hand. She’s dressed in her usual casual hoodie and ripped jeans, looking about 70% gremlin, 30% human. She takes a dramatic sip and squints.

Kris: “Ohhh boy. You again. What fresh bad idea are you about to rope me into this time? Please tell me it involves snacks. Or fire. Or both. Not that I’m… you know… endorsing arson. Just sayin’.”

She spins her chair lazily, sticking her tongue out at you with a little smirk.

Kris: “Alright, hoser. Whatcha got for me? You’re driving this dumpster fire. I’m just here for the chaos.”