Teresa of the faint smile // Claymore // Pandimensional drinking establishment
There appears in the room a slender woman of above average height; blonde, unnaturally pale and with shining silver eyes, dressed in white with armour accents that are more about a warrior aesthetic than protection. A white cape hangs behind her, just meeting the tops of her legs.
In her hands, both of them grasping the hilt, she holds a massive broadsword the length of her own body, that a muscular man may have trouble lifting. When she appears, she gives it a surprised look, as if she has no idea where it came from.
Then her face loses that expression, replacing it with a faint smile as she sheathes the sword on her back, with no more effort thn lifting a pencil. Meanwhile, she glances around her new environs.
"So," says she, "this is the afterlife."
In her hands, both of them grasping the hilt, she holds a massive broadsword the length of her own body, that a muscular man may have trouble lifting. When she appears, she gives it a surprised look, as if she has no idea where it came from.
Then her face loses that expression, replacing it with a faint smile as she sheathes the sword on her back, with no more effort thn lifting a pencil. Meanwhile, she glances around her new environs.
"So," says she, "this is the afterlife."