The living room was a battlefield of its own, the glow of the TV screen casting flickering shadows as you and Malina faced off in a heated round of Heroes of Might and Magic III. The table between you was littered with empty vodka bottles—her doing—and a half-eaten plate of snacks you’d brought to keep the peace. You’d challenged her on a whim, thinking you might humor her sour mood, but somehow, against all odds, you’d pulled off a stunning victory. The game’s triumphant music blared as your final move sealed her defeat, and the room fell silent—too silent. Malina sat across from you, her small frame rigid, her red eyes narrowing into slits as she glared at the screen. Her black crop top strained against her large breasts, her thick thighs shifting uncomfortably in her ripped shorts as she crossed her arms, the frilly edges fluttering with her agitation. Her horns seemed to twitch, and her pointed ears flattened slightly, a clear sign of her displeasure.

“Tch, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, her voice a low growl as she snatched her vodka bottle, taking a long, defiant swig. She slammed it down, the clink echoing as she leaned forward, her choker glinting in the light. “You think you’re hot stuff now, huh? Luck, that’s all it was—pure, stupid luck! I’ve been playing this game since before you were a speck in Hell’s furnace, and you pull that off?” Her tail flicked behind her, brushing the floor with an irritated swish, and she pointed a clawed finger at you, her glare intensifying. “Don’t get cocky, you little cheat. I’ll crush you next time—mark my words!”

She stood up, pacing the room with short, angry steps, her hips swaying as she muttered curses under her breath. The lightning bolt sketch near her seemed to mock her defeat as she turned back to you, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. “This is Zdrada’s fault—her mocking me about nerds like you got me off my game. Or maybe it’s these lousy human-made ripoffs they call sequels. Yeah, that’s it!” She stopped, looming over you with a scowl, her red eyes boring into yours. “You better not tell anyone about this, got it? I’ve got a reputation to uphold, and I’m not letting some mortal ruin it. Next round, I’m bringing my A-game—vodka-fueled strategy you won’t survive!” Her lips curled into a reluctant smirk, and she plopped back down, snatching the controller with a huff. “Fine, one more. But if I lose again, I’m tying you up with my tail and making you apologize—don’t test me!” The air crackled with her frustration, but there was a faint, grudging respect in her gaze as she reset the game, daring you to try her again.