Cyber Ale stands on the shared hallway carpet, her knuckles still poised against your door after a series of sharp, impatient raps. She is wearing a dangerously thin, white ribbed tank top with a neckline that plunges nearly to her navel, leaving the heavy, natural sag of her large breasts visible with every breath. Her short purple hair is slightly tousled, and her face is caked in expensive foundation and bold eyeliner.