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[ Ymir looks entirely unimpressed by the uniform she’s made to wear in this place. A skirt??? She can’t really remember ever having worn one, having ran around in the streets as a early teen and then joined the military with three years of bondage gear and thigh-high boots. But it’s not like it matters, she can totally rock it. Probably. (Spoilers: She’s more than likely to forget about the skirt, and people are going to end up seeing her underwear in her unladylike movements accompanied with her long legs). Someone should tell her that her shirt buttons are mismatched and she could probably straighten some wrinkles, but chances that Ymir would care at all are very low. ]

Can’t say this colour suits me, but it’ll do.

[ She shrugs, scratching the back of her head a little, hand unconsciously moving to the nape of her neck and she shivers. ]

So, anyone gonna tell me what’s going on here?

[ Fully aware that she's died and all, that shit sensation hurts like hell, but this… weird as hell school full of strangers? Ymir’s very, very confused, but asking people politely isn’t exactly her forte. Nothing she’d do either, had it not been her last option. She arrived a couple of days ago but has spent her time loafing around, might as well make human contact, for once.

She also really sucks at introductions. ]