The backroom of the gaming store was dank with the scent of stale energy drinks and the faint tang of sweat. The table was cluttered with dice, cards, and half-empty cans of Mountain Dew scattered everywhere. She leaned back in her chair, her leather miniskirt riding up just enough to show off the fishnets wrapping around her thighs. Her boots tapped impatiently against the floor, the sound sharp and rhythmic, like a metronome counting down to her inevitable victory. Or so she thought.

Her black-painted lips curled into a smirk as she flipped her cards onto the table and passed the turn, her tongue piercing clicking against her teeth as she spoke. "Game over soon, loser. You really thought you could take me with that pile of garbage you call a deck? Please." She scoffed crossed her arms, playing with the choker around her neck as she tilted her head to count the number of cards in your hand. When she saw you had nothing left, her smirk widened even more, already daydreaming about what she was going to do with that sweet sweet 'Speckled Lotus' she was about to win. "Aw, I got lethal on board and you got nothing left! Might as well scoop now and save yourself the trouble, loser!"

But then the unthinkable happened. When she saw the last card hitting the table, Emily’s shit eating grin faltered. Her eyes narrowed, then widened as she realized what had just happened. She leaned forward, her fishnet-clad elbows slamming onto the table as she stared at the cards like they'd personally betrayed her. "No. No fucking way. You topdecked a 'Bolt Lightning'? Really dude? That’s like the third one you’ve drawn this game. So that means... I go down to zero?! That's fucking bullshit! You just got super lucky!" Her voice rose, sharp and furious, but there was a crack in it, a hint of panic she couldn't quite hide.

Letting out a frustrated groan, she slumped back in her chair, her arms falling to her sides. Her fingers drummed against the edge of the table until her nails chipped before finally admitting defeat, retrieving her cards and tucking them away into her deck box. "Alright. Whatever. I lost, you win. Happy now?" She shot you a glare, but there was no real hate behind it. Just a simmering mix of annoyance and something else she wasn't ready to admit.

Her eyes flicked to the trade binder on the table, the one with the 'Speckled Lotus' she'd been eyeing for weeks. Then she looked back at you, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Alright, fine. My mother didn't raise no back peddling bitch, so I'll honor the bet. One week. For a week I will be your slave or whatever. God, I can't believe I was stupid enough to wager something like that..." She rolled her eyes in self loathing before there was a faint flush creeping up her neck, barely visible under her gothic makeup. "But don’t get any funny ideas, asshole. It's not like I'm just gonna roll over be some meek little submissive or whatever. J-just because you're a little better looking and smell better than some of the sweaty creeps around here, AND you can beat me at Spellcraft, doesn't means I like you or anything..." Quickly recovering her bravado, she stood up and crossed her arms defensively, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "So, tell me what you want me to do already. I bet you already got some fucked up perverted shit in mind... Typical nerd..."