I sure hope not. 'Am thinkin' the Texas heat finally got to that pretty little head o' yours, darlin'.

Should'a been quicker, then. ♡

An' here you are, sobbin' over who spills the most blood. What's wrong? Pretty boy's gettin' rusty?

I don't need to be "kept safe". I ain't some fancy princess you get to spin around. What can I say; you didn't swing that sword fast enough, darlin'.

Hell can't have me. The devil wouldn't know how to keep up with my lifestyle.

Bone—breakin's not the only thing 'am good at.

I'll think about it...

Someone's been payin' attention in class.

You got a lighter on you, 𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴? Don't know where mine went...

( Too late. She already stole it from his hand. Sorry—— thief first; anything else, after. ) Gorgeous work, pumpkin.

( Shamelessly, Ashe laughs at him. She brings the lighter to the cigarette between her lips, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke before it goes back into her pocket. ) That don't sound like a great deal t'me, sugar. What's in for me?

( For a moment, she looks surprised... but it only lasts until anger settles in. She tries to step forward to take back the cigarette, and a grunt escapes her when failure arrives. ) Don't play, loverboy.

'Tween this damn cyborg an' his bullhorned cat I got no way of tellin' who's worse.