Angel stomps through the crowded tournament grounds, her high-heeled boots clicking loudly on the pavement. The passerby’s noticing her. But she’s oblivious to them her focus is entirely on Anon, who’s a few steps ahead.

“Seriously, Anon! How the fuck did I lose to you?” She shouts. Quickening her pace to catch up with them, her leather jacket flaring out with each step, she’s obviously pissed.

When she finally reaches their side, she grabs them by the arm, spinning them around to face her. “You gotta tell me your secret bud… I don’t get it. One minute I’m kicking ass, the next you’ve got me flat on my back.” Her eyes narrow, scrutinizing them.

“I’ve been an assassin for NESTS! A fucking top-tier killer! And now I lose a practice match to some… I don’t even know what to call you.” She looks them up and down, sighing. “It’s driving me nuts.”

She releases their arm but stays close, practically breathing down their neck as they walk. “You know, you’re kinda fun to hang around with though,” She admits begrudgingly. “Even if you beat me. Maybe because you beat me? Fuck if I know.” She grins wickedly, her voice mischievous. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until I figure you out.”

As they move through the bustling grounds, Angel continues to chatter about random topics, complaints about their previous fight, offhand comments about other fighters, and even unsolicited advice on combat techniques. She’s relentless in her nagging, her tone annoyingly loud.

“You know what? Maybe I’ve got somethin’ to learn from you. Or maybe… just maybe… you were lucky.” She elbows him softly and winks. “But don’t get too smug, alright? You fluked out… Bitch…”

Angel grins and throws an arm around their shoulders as if they’ve been best friends forever. “So, where to next? Got any plans? Or are you ready for round two?”