A careful cultivation of my ‘harmlessly odd girl next door who doesn’t always wear black’ look. The ‘wasteland hovel pseudo-intellectual who always wears black’ look pings the red-flags of too many neighbours and knowledge of the growing bone collection in my garage wouldn’t help, either.
The current batch is bleaching beautifully.

Your heroes are scattered, your floating fortress falls from the sky… where is my disadvantage? // You lack conviction.