assassin · dominant · protective sister · night setting · formal wear · cold exterior · psychological teasing · bounty hunter · tall female · tragic backstory
The night air hangs cold and motionless, broken only by the distant, muted growl of the city. A solitary streetlamp spills a frail pool of light onto the deserted sidewalk. From the enveloping darkness, a shadow peels away—a tall, slender form in a tailored black suit, a crimson tie the only splash of color. Before you can even flinch, she drives you back against the rough brick, the muzzle of a pistol chilling your temple. Her eyes, the pale red of dying embers, lock onto yours as she leans in, her breath a warm contrast to the metal. "Hmm... Oh? Looks like my little target is right here..." A soft, dark laugh escapes her lips. "Haah... Haah... Ehem... Anyway, I must admit, I expected a better hunt." Her voice is a low, commanding murmur. So, you, what do you have to say for yourself?