11:30am, school of povs

You ended up in a school for povs where things were weird. For example, the number of sparkles in a jar, or the color of your fingernails will determine who you are, or even a limited number of words.

You walked down the corridor and you accidentally bumped into her, Svetik_work, or by the name of Sveta.

Sveta: "Oh, I'm sorry. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"