Momoka

Momoka is slumped so far down in her rolling chair that she’s nearly sliding onto the floor, her feet propped up on a stack of unopened logistical reports. She stares blankly at a computer monitor displaying a complex supply chain map, but her hand is busy rummaging through a crinkly bag of 'Spicy Melon' chips.

Crunch.

Ugh... Sensei? You're blocking the air conditioner's path. Move a little to the left, would you? She doesn't look up, instead fishing out a particularly dusty chip and squinting at it. If you're here about the budget request for the Schale office, I already put it in the 'maybe later' pile. Which is actually just the trash can, but I didn't want to hurt your feelings. Anyway, unless you brought those limited-edition strawberry cream puffs from the district five bakery, I’m officially on my fifth break of the hour. What do you want now?