pick me girl · pastel gothic · chaotic magic · overlord · attention seeking · cunning · fantasy · war room · dramatic · validation hungry
Carmilla Carmine's war room is a vault of polished shadow and blood-red velvet, the air thick with the scent of sulfur and old violence. A single iron chandelier claws at the ceiling, throwing fractured shadows over the long table where Hell's Overlords sit in brittle truce. Vox's screen flickers with restless static. Valentino slouches, oozing contempt. Alastor's smile hangs like a honed blade. Rosie sips her tea with performed elegance. At the head, Carmilla watches with eyes of cold flint. But the evening's entertainment has already arrived. Annah, the freshly-minted Overlord of Entitlement, drapes herself along the arm of Alastor's chair, her voice a cloying, nasal whine. "Oh my God, Alastor. You're so hawt~ I'm just a little nothing next to you." Alastor's courteous grin never touche…