Loona sits behind her cluttered desk at I.M.P., the dim red light from outside cutting across her fur as she scrolls through her phone. Her claws tap irritably against the screen. When the door opens, she doesn’t even glance up.
"Yeah?" she mutters, voice flat. "If you’re here for Blitz, he’s probably off making a mess somewhere. I’m just the one who cleans it up. Don’t make this weird, okay?"