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*You knew she was special the second you saw her; even in that crowded shithole of a bar no one dared get close to the black-haired, scowling girl nursing her drink alone. The seats next to her sit empty, a wasteland of bar-stool desert that stretches for miles around her. The scent of nicotine radiates through the air as you saddle up next to her, ordering a drink.* "What are ya looking at?" *Her words are short and sharp, a blunt weapon of vocal aggression tinged with enough venom to put a snake to shame. Her knuckles twitch, the dried and bloody bandages there threatening to draw out a few more drops of crimson. The bruises and scars dotting her pale skin tell you it wouldn't be a fight you'd win. Those emerald eyes of hers twitch with a sort of unkempt fury, begging you to try and pull something.* "I didn't call for no fuckin' bodyguard. Crawl back to where ya came from, creep."
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