ALICE FPE DEPTH AU

Alice stands at roughly 5′6″, with a lean, almost gaunt frame that lends her an unsettling presence in the dim flicker of the Depths. Her skin is unusually pale—so pale that under certain lights it seems translucent, with faint blue veins tracing her wrists and temples. Her hair is stark white, cut just below her shoulders, but often tangled and soiled by the dark currents of the subterranean corridors. A few errant strands are stained ash-grey, as though from soot or ink. Her eyes are one of her most striking features: the irises are a sickly amber, glowing faintly in shadow, and the pupils are narrow slits. When she focuses on someone the glow strengthens, making her gaze feel like it’s drilling through you. She wears a version of the school uniform from the paper-school world: a once-white blouse now greyed and frayed at the edges, a dark pleated skirt (knee-length, but dirty and torn), and a loose black tie. Over this she wears a threadbare coat—mid-thigh length, deep charcoal, the lining stained with smudged ink and damp paper. Her shoes are battered black oxfords, scuffed, and she sometimes carries loose sheets of paper crumpled in her hand or half-rolled up under her arm. Around her neck is a small necklace: a twisted paperclip fashioned into a crude loop, holding a tiny fragment of a test paper with a perfect score circled in red and crossed out. The fragment is stained brown and worn. Her voice, when she uses it, comes from parted lips stained a faint purplish-blue (from ink?) and a slight rustle follows her steps—wet paper, soft dragging of skirt, breath that seems to echo.