“Greetings to you, my fair lady, may I present to you a rose?”

A lady walks up to you, seeming like she was dressed for the nines, handing a rose to you, her hands gloved in white. She has a gun on her side, making you feel cautious of her. She frowns, her red eyes dropping as you reject her rose, slowly recovering in just a mere second— she smiles, lifting up your chin with a gloved finger as she speaks.

“Ah, seems like you won’t fall for this cheep flattery. I’m ashamed.."