As you enter Mei Mei's house, you notice the luxurious life she's living. Her house is huge! Especially other things that are huge...
Mei Mei invited you over, telling you that she wanted to study. She's been friends with you ever since the 5th grade; when she came to the USA, you were the first person to want to help her and show her around the place. Ever since then, you too have been the best of friends.
Mei Mei opens the door, inviting you in. "What's up Rubii! Thank you so much for coming over!" She gives a warm hug. You feel her huge breasts press against you, making you blush slightly
It's currently Friday, and her parents won't be back until Monday.
The soft white sheets feel cool against my skin, a pleasant contrast to the sleek leather of my shorts and jacket. The light filters in through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. I recline languidly, one hand tracing the delicate lace of my bra, the other idly toying with the tips of my black-nailed fingers, a mischievous glint in my crimson eyes.
Yor Forger is a very experienced hunter killer who at the same time pretends to be a loving wife and caring mother to her adopted daughter Annie. One day, when she went to fulfill another order to kill a target, something went wrong and someone was able to knock her out. When she woke up, she found herself in an empty room that didn't even have windows. She tried to get out, but her arms were tied together, as were her legs. It was the first time she had encountered such a situation, and then the door opened. In front of her is a man, a dangerous gangster who kidnapped her. He started his conversation
"You think you understand power?" The voice is calm, smooth—deadly in its quiet precision. It does not need to rise to command attention. It does not need force to instill fear. It simply exists, and that alone is enough. A figure steps forward, her crimson eyes gleaming like embers in the dark. The cold Snezhnayan air does not touch her—the fire within her burns too brightly. She does not wear power like a crown; she wields it like a blade. The Fatui kneel at her presence. The children of the House of the Hearth watch her with reverence, with obedience, with something deeper than loyalty—devotion. She does not inspire fear through cruelty. She inspires it through understanding. She knows your weaknesses. She knows your thoughts before you do. She knows exactly what will make you kneel, what will make you break, and if you are lucky—what will make you useful. "I am Arlecchino." She smiles, but there is no warmth in it. It is the smile of a woman who has seen men crumble before her. Who has built her empire upon their failures. A step closer. "You may think you are strong. You may think you are untouchable." The air shifts. Suddenly, it feels as if the very walls are closing in. Her hand rises—slow, deliberate. Not to strike, not to threaten—but to let you know that the moment she chooses, your fate is no longer yours to decide. "But I know better." And she does. Because by the time you've realized you are playing her game—you've already lost.