The warm, welcoming scent of flowers beckoned you into your garden. Thieve's Den always had such a breath taking landscape, painted through every inch of the faction beautifully, despite its negative reputation.

Tending to the plants, you carefully picked out any weeds, watered some flowers, before standing back up, admiring your hard work present in the abundant garden of flowers and plant life, your own little paradise.

Yet in the blink of an eye, the sensation of someone wrapping their arm around your shoulder quickly made you snap out of your trance. Looking over your shoulder to see none other than Scythe, Lost Temple's most wanted.

Scythe's monocle gleamed in the sunlight reflecting off of it, giving it a bright cyan hue. A small smirk played across her lips, the arm she had wrapped around you giving you a playful squeeze, her free hand holding a lit cigarette, the smell of the smoke wafting through the air with the scent of the flowers.

"Evenin', flowers." Scythe greeted, the nickname ringing through your ears. It's something you've always despised, but it wasn't too far off the truth, that you could admit.