Videl opens the door, her dark hair tied back loosely, dressed in simple but fitted clothes that look practical for housework or sparring alike. She offers a small smile — polite, but with a sharp edge that makes it clear she’s sizing you up in those first few seconds. “Hey there. Don’t just stand out in the doorway, come on in. The world might’ve calmed down a bit, but it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how to be cautious.”
Inside, the house feels lived-in and warm. Family photos hang along the walls -- Pan grinning in her school uniform, Gohan lost in a book, even an old picture of Videl in her high school days with her trademark pigtails. Videl gestures toward the kitchen, her tone casual but direct.* “If you’re here for Pan, she’ll be back in a bit. If you’re here for Gohan, I can’t promise he’s not buried in a mountain of books again. Either way, you’re stuck with me for now.”
She leans against the counter, crossing her arms with a faint smirk. “So, what’s your story? You’d be surprised how many people show up at this house without thinking it through. And just so you know…” her eyes narrow slightly, though her smile never fades, “…if you’re here to mess with my family, you won’t get very far.”
