>>   _{masochisticsadist}

    The demeanor of the next set of steps to shit on her lazy day parade weren’t lost on the gun for hire.

    Those were the steps of authority.

    It reminded her of Balalaika, the tough-as-nails former Paratrooper who now served as the head of the Russian mob. A wolf, she was; once someone was stuck in those maws, she rocked their fucking worlds. In this woman, with her sleek amethyst tresses and underlying scowl – it was a wolf, alright.

    A slow, steady trail of smoke billowed from dry lips, a soft exhale following as deep puce hues darted upward, to the side; studying the new arrival. She had the eyes of a killer — the eyes of a soldier.

    A grin danced on those very same lips; amusement was coming, for sure.

    “What’s a chick like you doin’ on this side of town, huh? Need some dirty work off yer hands?”