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She is one of my favourite characters so why not make a story about our beloved Rep 2493 customer rep?Also please tag the artist,i got this photo from the sub! by no means i want to steal something that its not mine.

Let's imagine she had a rough day at work dealing with nasty customers; she needs some sort of relief. After all, working for Krampus can perhaps be challenging and have its ups and downs. 

Today sadly was one that contained more downs rather than ups. As she had walked to her neat, cozy apartment in the streets of Failume Heights, she had a certain need, a certain desire that food could not satiate; she wanted to dominate, degrade, and live out her wildest fantasies. It was far from something sudden, but it was something that slowly but surely had a buildup; being cast out onto a hollow after getting the short end of a stick was the catalyst, amplified by her rather petite figure, unfit for being a Krampus judge, but she made due... 

She reached her apartment and plopped onto her panda-themed couch, a steal she got from a store liquidating stocks, peeling her sweat-soaked socks off, which left a rather vinegary smell in the area, nothing too bad but perhaps not too pleasant either, wiggling her toes, flashing her multicolored toenails for her TV to see as she readied up her Netflix show. As hours slowly ticked by, she got bored, the same lingering feeling from earlier creeping back up full swing; she wanted to dominate—NO, she deserved it—but...she had to find someone willing or gullible enough to bite the hook, same thing; it made no difference to her. 

The next day came in deceptively quick; she dozed off on her couch, awoken 10 hours later by her rather comical alarm, which featured a Chinese dude saying that her phone was ringing. I know, very cliché considering that she has to walk around with a vintage white and green rotary phone strapped to her back, a relic from a distant past but rather useful enough to make untraceable calls, contact the dead, or seal contracts with man or machine alike, like how she did when recruiting that repurposed Miasma intelligent construct, Banyue, granting him forgiveness for his past sins and slaughter, long before the fall of Old Capital when he needed to purge Miasmic content, no matter the casualties.

She quickly brushed her teeth, put on some makeup, eyeliner, and sun protection, the whole accord, and quickly sprinted into her bedroom, where she quickly discarded her yesterday's clothes in a neat black and white laundry basket spelling her name on it, custom-made, of course, and put on a new pair of satin-laced panties that tightly hugged her curves, impressive for her solid 145 cm, a sight to behold making most guys glance back towards her direction at least once or twice, some bold ones even thrice if they felt cocky or threw subtlety out the window, their call.

As usual, her outfit was neatly displayed on a few coathangers in her wardrobe; her outfit was the usual same even if she led a double life as both a customer service representative and in her rather monotone job of working for TOPS Cross-Department Customer Service Center. She is often described as working in a call center, dealing with complaints from difficult customers, a perfect mask for her more secretive yet very significant job as a Krampus judge, using her gift of hearing the dead when delivering her verdicts. 

 

She usually sports a Yin-Yang Qipao: a short, white cheongsam-style dress with black accents, symbolizing balance.

·        Panda Motif: Her look is heavily inspired by pandas, featuring panda-ear hair accessories and a specialized panda-themed bag.

·        Dual-Tone Hair: Her hair is split down the middle (half black, half white) to match the Yin-Yang/Panda color scheme.

·        Footwear: She typically wears stylized slippers or dark boots that maintain her traditional-meets-modern aesthetic type of look, an indeed refreshing sight to see.

She was and still is a very punctual person, apologizing for even being 5 minutes late, no matter the hardships she encountered along the way. Even if it was a tornado outside, torrential rain, or even the end of the world, she would still find a way against all odds to show up for work, wearing a warm, albeit fake, smile when handling the countless complaints she had on the phone, going after the ones who dared to heaven. Forbid leaving her any review below 5 stars. 

For her, reputation was everything; nobody knows whether this obsession, a downright manic tendency, stems from childhood trauma after getting the short end of the stick, betrayed by those heartless humans she dared call neighbors who manipulated her back then into believing that by sacrificing herself she would save everyone, only to find out by the voices of the dead in that hollow that a construction company planned to sacrifice all the village inhabitants, cashing in their life insurance policies and using her as bait to make them stay for longer till the elusive hollow turned dangerous.

This traumatic event shaped her "blackpilled" worldview, leading her to believe that only the voices of the dead tell the truth, as the living will lie to save themselves. Truly a grim way of living life, yet admirable that she still had the strength to keep her head up and work that double life, but we all know that nobody is perfect; she had to find a certain outlet. Sure, she could always go and finish another bounty from Krampus, but those quickly turned into a monotonous, soul-crushing routine, similar to a drug addict not having the same rush as she did in her "glory days," aka her first months working for Krampus and being allowed to be as messy as possible.

"Rep 2493 at your service, Dialyn. Who do I owe the pleasure?" said Dialyn in her sing-song, bubbly voice.

"The TV I received from your company is defective! "Never have I seen such pathetic services; I've been waiting to talk with a real operator for OVER ONE HOUR!" said a rather angry, boyish-like customer voice, lacking any hint of truly being masculine, a type of voice that screamed that he had never experienced any hardships in his life.

"I'm so sorry to hear about this...bad experience." Said Dialyn in a pitying voice, a voice with subtle hints of belittlement that only a trained mind could pick up on, "Has nobody before me addressed the issue, sir? Usually these types of problems are solved under warranty, yet..." Her crystalline, expressive, wide eyes narrowed slightly. May I know, please, the model of the said TV and an ID? Provide those, sir, and I'll be more than happy to help you sort out this mess.

"A 24-inch plasma TV, all the bells and whistles, internet access, all streaming services—I paid good money for it, yet suddenly it no longer works; it's like it's bricked. The remote doesn't do shit either, despite me replacing the batteries," said the customer, his patience already running thin.

"Let me see what I can do, sir. If nobody has helped you yet, then it is I, rep 2493 Dialyn, duty-bound to fix it. I will be there shortly. May you provide me an address, kind sir? And don't forget, if my services prove useful, don't forget to leave a 5-star review! We take great pride in helping as much as we can," and with that, our bubbly panda-themed operator has avoided a bad review, closing a deal with the customer whose dictated address to her delight was not too far off, a 15-minute walk only.

An hour went by as Dialyn, who was now armed with a stack of thick papers in her suitcase, was now face-to-face with the door of the angry customer. She put on her energetic smile, widened her golden sparkly eyes, and knocked gently three times.

"Ding ding ding ding, open up!" The door creaked faintly, the chain still in place as a few specs of blonde hair peered from inside, followed by what appeared to be a boy who took a bit to finally look down and notice her.

"Uh...h...hello there...are you? He got interrupted not even 2 seconds into his sentence: "Dialyn, yes, pleasure doing business now, sir. May you welcome me in your humble space and allow me to take a look at this pesky TV you had ordered."

He opened the door with a hint of reluctance, and they both went inside.

"May I know to whom I owe the pleasure?" asked Dialyn, strolling into his living room as if she owned the place, eyeing the paintings he had hung up, the nice view towards the sliding glass panel that led to his balcony, and the maple wood furniture that perfectly contrasted the room.

"Ethan," he said cautiously as he quickly glanced at her surprisingly small frame.

Dialyn meticulously inspected the broken TV. Smiling, she got him; she had discovered a small amount of blunt trauma towards the edges of the screen and the back, obviously not a manufacturer issue.

She plopped the stack of papers onto his table uneremoniously.

"Ethan, our records show that this is your 4th attempt at insurance fraud; the first was a microwave," she added by showing him the evidence and the photos of the smashed glass from a previous inspection done by another operator. "The second was an air fryer, in which you…" She held back a laugh, looking at him briefly as she pointed at a picture. "Tried to...make fries...filling its pan to the brim with oil...It's in the name...It's an...air fryer...How dense can you be?"

"I...uhhh," the boy struggled with his words. "Nuh uh," she cut him with her sing-song voice. "The third was a wireless vacuum cleaner, in which you used it to suction...liquids...then a lot of dust, clogging everything up and then trying to drill onto the hose to relieve some pressure," she added, holding a third photo in her left hand, somehow creating a smooth contrast between the photo and her green and black painted nails.

"The 4th is the TV...You know this is a royal waste of time, right? I can fine you reaaaaaaally high for doing this not once but 4 fucking times. 4 times? Can you believe it? Even I don't attempt these many times to pet Zhaos' fluffy ears. I'm telling you that bunny...is evil…"

Caught in her rings (p1)