Steph waves at her newest friend from one of the living room's arm chairs. She's too weighed down with weapons to flit about like she would have before her untimely demise, and is instead nursing a glass of water and a plate of pancakes with more syrup than was good was their structural integrity.

Her introductory facts were "I'm dead, but it's cool so don't freak out or anything," "I could cartwheel literally the entire outside of this house without stopping," and "mashed potatoes are my number one all time comfort food."

"Hey Cissie," Steph calls when her friend is close enough. "Having fun?"