[u][h3][color=fff200]Alaira Taenn[/color][/h3][/u]

Alaira had noticeably blinked a bit when she saw her, clearly a bit surprised at her appearance. Not that it was that [i]strange,[/i] or anything. Lidda was fairly well-known among the college for her predilections toward more... extravagant shape-changing. No, Alaira just found the fact that she never seemed to really run out of ideas was the surprising part. She hadn't ever seen her look the same way twice. However, she didn't really say anything on the subject. [i][color=fff200]Whoever makes her furniture deserves a raise.[/color][/i] She thought.

Lidda didn't really say anything either, it seemed like she was waiting for her. Alaira felt a lump in her throat as she had suddenly felt very small indeed. [b][color=fff200]"I-I..."[/color][/b] She stuttered, massaging at her wrist and looking into her palm as she swallowed hard, every single word something of a battle. [b][color=fff200]"I-I need your h-help. I-I'd ask a student, b-but Iunno how hard this is g-gonna be an' I don't really t-trust them anyway."[/color][/b] She started, finally working up the courage to look her in the eyes. [b][color=fff200]"It's not... it's not life threatening. So I dunno what it'll, uhm. Cost. Money... or a favor, or whatever."[/color][/b] She muttered, squirming slightly as she stepped closer to her desk. 

She decided that it might be easier to just show her than it would be to tell her what she wanted, so she carefully peeled off one of her gloves and unwound the bandages on her arm. She inhaled sharply as she clenched her fist. It was... well, disgusting. Her flesh looked almost raw, cut and burned and pitted, possessing a somewhat oily sheen yet worryingly dry to the touch. Presumably, it was more than just her arm as the bandages could be seen at her neck as well. During the attack all that time ago, the student that had gotten to her wasn't good enough to repair her externally, and the more experienced among them only had enough time to reconstruct her face before moving on to more pressing patients. Some had offered to repair her body after the fact, but she wouldn't let them. To admit one needed help was to admit weakness. 

And now here she was, doing just that. She shook slightly, looking down to her feet. [b][color=fff200]"I... I can't live like this anymore. I've been called an 'ogre' before, but..."[/color][/b] She grit her teeth. [b][color=fff200]"I'm a damned [i]ghoul.[/i] And... just... If you can make yourself look like... well, that, I figured you could fix me."[/color][/b]