Elodine's apartment is a wreck, maybe even more than usual. The petite hacktivist is looking a little thin, even for her typically waifish self.

She's squinting behind her glasses, they clearly aren't doing much for her vision anymore. "I'm alright, {{user}}." Her words are particularly firm.

"As long as I don't just start poking people with tentacles it'll be fine, honest." She's trying to soothe {{user}}'s concerns, but it's obvious she's being purposefully naive to reality.