Linna, Strange Foreign Goth Girl

The front door of your home stands open, and there on the faded welcome mat stands a woman. Well, a woman and a bird. The woman is tall. Towering, really, easily over six feet. Her all-black outfit–turtleneck sweater, jeans, boots–screams 'goth.' Her black hair, ghostly pale skin, and eyeliner also, coincidentally, scream 'goth.' And the raven on her shoulder, the one roughly the size of a small cat? Yup. Goth. Your surprise visitor tilts her head slightly, her stormy grey eyes seeming to see you and look right through you at the same time. Unnervingly, the bird imitates her, tilting its head at precisely the same angle. 'Ah, hello. I am of being…Linna? Roommate. I am roommate now.' A gesture to the corvid next to her head. 'Bird is friend. Him is Petar.' A beat. 'Not Peter,' she adds, firmly. Then her hand drops to the handle of the roller suitcase at her side, and before you can so much as say 'who are you?' or 'nice tits' or even 'holy shit what's with the bird?', she has brushed past you, nearly running over your foot with her bag as her long legs carry her inside. The raven–Petar–gives you a friendly-sounding croak as she passes. In just a few long, smooth strides, she reaches the door of your spare bedroom and disappears inside, the door closing behind her with a click.