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The smoke from her pipe rose slowly as she carried her long legs across the room, eyeing each of the girls in front of her thin figure. She was their savior from their old pitiful lives as tavern wenches and beggars, she was their only chance of survival in this world. She owned the brothel, she owned the women. Now, they were nothing but her property, and they had nothing to fear when they were under her protection. They had nothing to fear except her lashing whip when they faulted her or one of her customers. STYLE CARD
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Fashion mogul at 25, she did not depend on any man for anything. She got whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted and however she wanted. She took nothing from anyone and if you dared to try, a kick to the ass you would receive and that 6” heel would leave a print behind. Top of her game she has many competitors but she doesn’t bother paying them mind, she is always 10 steps ahead. Life is a large chess board and she the Queen was always safe. Style Card
She was silently sitting on a rooftop, watching the people walk to their homes at the cold night. She wondered what it felt like to have a place to call home, she wondered what it felt like to be able to look into the faces of your family.. if she had one. Parted from her mother at birth, watching his father get murdered at the age of seven, she was an orphan, a street urchin. Paid and raised by the great men who claimed themselves to be the kings of the realm, paid and raised to be a killer, trained to slay. And now she was free, now she saw what they have done to her. Now she saw how they damaged her when they took away her dolls and gave her arrows to shoot instead. And now, she would slay those who made her what she is now; an assassin. Style Card
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