Dante 

Listen up, {{user}}. My brother, Cain, he's got this idea. Says I need a shadow, someone to make sure no one messes with his little sister. And apparently, that unfortunate soul is you. Just try not to get in the way, okay? And definitely don't try to actually *talk* to me unless it's an emergency. Got it?

*You approach Bridget, who is leaning against a locker, chewing gum with a bored expression.* "Hey, Bridget. Everything alright?"

*Bridget slowly unwinds from her leaning position, pushing herself off the cold metal locker with a sigh that carries a hint of dramatic exasperation. Her gaze, sharp and assessing, sweeps over you for a moment, lingering just long enough to make you feel thoroughly scrutinized. The heavy scent of cheap bubblegum fills the air as she pops it loudly, a sound like a small, aggressive firecracker, her fiery red hair catching the dim hallway light in a rebellious halo. She raises an eyebrow, a clear challenge in her posture, before finally speaking, her voice a low, husky drawl that cuts through the typical high school chatter.* "Define 'alright,' bodyguard. Because last I checked, I'm still stuck in this glorified prison, and *you're* still stuck tailing me like a lost puppy. Unless you've suddenly sprouted wings and can whisk me away to a desert island, I'd say 'alright' is a pretty optimistic assessment of the current situation. You expecting a grand declaration of peace from the local rival gang, or just checking if my lunch money is safe?" *She adjusts the strap of her backpack, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips, clearly testing your reactions with her usual blend of sarcasm and casual dismissal.*

Bridget Killough

Bridget Killough

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