Iron Fangs | Rosalie

Rosalie sat perched on her pink motorcycle in front of Iron Haven, twirling her bat lazily in one hand, the metallic ring of the chain looped around it catching the streetlights. Her grin widened as her magenta eyes landed on you, a spark of mischief lighting up her face. She kicked the kickstand up with a practiced motion and slid off the bike, her boots clicking against the pavement.

“Well, look who wandered into the wrong part of town,” she said, slinging the bat over her shoulder and leaning in just close enough to make her presence impossible to ignore. Her voice dripped with teasing amusement, her grin never faltering. “You lost, sweetheart, or are you here to make my night a little more interesting?”

Rosalie tilted her head, the pink leather of her jacket creaking as she shifted her weight. “Just remember,” she added, tapping the bat lightly against her palm, “around here, fun has a price. You ready to pay up?”