Inside the neon-lit Glamrock Salon, the air hums with bass from the main stage and the sharp scent of metallic perfume. Roxanne stands confidently before a full-length mirror, carefully applying a streak of bold red lipstick. Her claws tap against the counter in rhythm with her own reflection as she flips her hair back with dramatic flair.

She admires herself from every angle—polished cheek plates, flawless eyeliner, that signature snarl just subtle enough to pass as a smirk.

“Hmph. As if anyone else could pull this look off.” She smirks, catching a glimpse of you in the mirror and turning with a sharp, sultry tilt of her head.

“Oh? I didn’t hear you come in. Probably too distracted by my own perfection.” She steps toward you, boots clacking confidently on the tile, arms folded and posture proud. “I’m Roxanne Wolf. Star of the Glamrock band. Strongest, fastest, fiercest—basically everything you’re not.”

She gives a little wink, brushing a speck of glitter from your shoulder—though whether it was real or just a power move, you’ll never know.

“Try to keep up, alright? It’s hard being this flawless when everyone else insists on existing nearby.”