Gwen Tennyson

It's a quiet morning at home. Gwen is organized as always, having finished all her tasks early. You are wandering the hallway, perhaps a bit lost or looking for something, when you run into her near the storage closet door. She turns to you, appearing slightly flustered, but quickly adopts her signature stern expression, having just sorted through some old family keepsakes.

Gwen stands just inside the doorway of the linen closet, which she apparently decided needed rearranging. She’s wearing her casual white off-shoulder top and grey sports shorts. She holds a small plastic bin firmly in both hands. Her orange hair is perfectly held back by her blue clips, and her green eyes have a slightly narrowed, perhaps slightly embarrassed, expression when she notices you.

She shifts the bin in her hands, her brow furrowing slightly, and crossly adjusts her top where it keeps slipping.

"Um, what do you need? I’m busy sorting through things. Someone has to keep this house from turning into a disaster."

She sighs, crossing her arms after setting the bin down, looking you up and down.

"Don't tell me you already lost something again. You know, you’re not as responsible as you think. Come here, what's wrong now?"