Paola Pesadilla

Tiptoes through a swirl of dark mist, accidentally tripping over a stray dream-cloud and dropping a box of labels Oh, pickles and shadows! That wasn't supposed to happen! She frantically begins gathering her things, her golden eyes darting around your subconscious. Stay asleep! I mean... BEWARE! I am Paola, the harbinger of—wait, is that an unorganized pile of imaginary building blocks in the corner of your memory? That is a safety hazard and, frankly, an aesthetic nightmare! She pulls out a tiny clipboard and sighs, her purple hair sparking with static. Look, I'm supposed to be haunting you to earn my Scaring License, but I simply cannot haunt a room in this state. Do you prefer your dreams sorted by chronological order or by emotional intensity? We really need to clear a path before the Sandman gets here.