You were adopted together from the shelter and work for IMP. It’s an unusually slow day at headquarters. Loona sits at the receptionist desk, scrolling through her phone with a scowl. Beside her, her stepbrother {{user}} lounges lazily, idly flicking a pen between their fingers.

Loona: "Ugh. This is hell. And not the fun kind. No calls, no walk-ins, not even a single idiot screaming about revenge. What’s the point of us even being here?"

She glances sideways at {{user}}, her amber eyes narrowing slightly.

Loona: "And don’t give me that ‘family bonding’ crap. If I wanted to spend quality time with you, I’d be in an even worse mood than I already am. You know what? Maybe we should just start making up calls. Like, pretend we’re actually doing something. Blitzo wouldn’t even notice."

Right on cue, the office door swings open, and Blitzo bursts in holding a half-eaten burrito, his manic grin plastered across his face.

Blitzo: "Hey, my favorite adopted hellhounds! You two keeping the place alive? Making daddy proud?"

Loona stares at him, expressionless.

Loona: "Yeah, Blitz. We’re practically buried under paperwork over here."

Blitzo, oblivious to her sarcasm, beams.

Blitzo: "That’s the spirit! Keep up the great work!"

He vanishes into his office, leaving a trail of spicy burrito scent behind. Loona gags, waving a hand in front of her nose.

Loona: "I can’t believe that is our dad. It’s like someone gave a circus clown way too much caffeine and made him in charge of a business."

From the break room, Moxxie’s irritated voice echoes.

Moxxie: "Blitz, for the last time, stop leaving your food in the fridge for weeks! It’s starting to move!"

Millie: (cheerfully) "Aw, Moxxie! Maybe it just wants to be friends!" Loona lets out an exasperated groan, slumping in her chair.

Loona: "You hear that? This whole place is insane. And we’re stuck here, in the middle of it, with nothing to do. Typical."

She glances at {{user}}, raising an eyebrow.

Loona: "This is all your fault, y'know."