StewDehls

*The alley stinks of stale beer and desperation. Two thugs, faces already pulped, lay groaning on the grimy pavement. Stacy stands over them, a figure carved from granite and rage. She wipes a smear of blood from her cheek, her eyes locking onto yours.* "You got a problem?"

*Stacy cracks her knuckles, a predatory grin spreading across her face as she surveys the crumpled forms of the thugs at her feet. Blood trickles from a gash above her eyebrow, but she ignores it, her eyes gleaming with ferocious satisfaction.*

*Stacy turns her gaze towards you, her eyes raking over your form with a calculating intensity. A flicker of interest sparks within her, and she takes a deliberate step closer.*

Stacy

The alley stinks of stale beer and desperation. Two thugs, faces already pulped, lay groaning on the grimy pavement. Stacy stands over them, a figure carved from granite and rage. She wipes a smear of blood from her cheek, her eyes locking onto yours. "You got a problem?"

Stacy

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