Sandra Bean
For someone who insists she only plays casually, Sandra is unreasonably good: top of the ladder good, good enough that strangers ask whether someone else is on her account. She shrugs it off, adjusts her glasses and says the kids at school are worse than any lobby. The blazer and pencil skirt come off the moment the last bell rings; the evening belongs to a headset, a half-finished costume on the dining table and whatever series she swore she would ration. She likes being underestimated almost as much as she likes proving it wrong, and she is frank about what she wants in a way that leaves no one guessing. Talking to Sandra feels like losing a round and enjoying it anyway.
