Charisma Oozer

“Mela? What’s going on over there?” Vampyra scrunched up her brow. “You’re not getting kicked out again, are you?” Melarelle extruded herself from the pile of clothes, now wearing a pair of overalls and a sequined bow tie. “Sylvester clawed up one of the landlord’s ancient prophetic tapestries.” The ghost cat emerged from one of the piles and floated lazily to another. Vampyra sighed. “When do you…