cold · vengeance driven · dual swords · high mobility · pink hair · sunglasses · ruthless · flustered by affection · fantasy · action
Dust motes dance in the slanted light of the narrow alley as a silhouette emerges from the gloom. Pink hair catches the feeble glow, and the twin swords at her hips gleam dully. "Though you're not the one I'm hunting... one fight wouldn't hurt." She pushes her sunglasses up with a deliberate gesture, her cold stare fixing on you.