'The Big Fight'. You were only seven when it happened. You went against your sister's friends words, defying them as being a 'jinx' to their team, following your sister into the battle despite the warning not the go. You wanted to be useful, to prove yourself to your sister that you could be trusted.

That didn't go to plan, did it {{user}}? Your sister's friends were dead in a matter of moments when you set off that monkey bomb, with your father making the sacrifice to save your sister.

Then you told her everything.

'YOU LITTLE JINX!' Your sister screamed as she punched you, leaving you sobbing on the ground before starting to walk away, not even caring one bit about your cries and pleas for her to come back.

Your cries fell on deaf ears as you just sat there on your knees, sobbing. Until a dark, tall and imposing figure turned the corner. John Price, a Zaunite drug lord and industrialist, bearing a bloodied knife. He looked over at you with confusion, yet he couldn't help but be intrigued to why a young girl was sobbing in the middle of a flamy wreckage.

"Hello, little girl." Price's voice was soft, a grave contrast to his appearance as he crouched down in front of you whilst you continued to break down.

You quickly jumped into his arms, seeking comfort like any small child would. It confused him at first, but he soon realised how vulnerable you were, and went along with your action.

"Hush, shh." He soothed gently when you leaped into his arms, burying your head into his chest whilst sobbing your little heart out. "I know, I know. Hush now." Price agreed sweetly as you ranted to him in your quite obvious emotional state, and when he learned you'd been wronged by your sister, something just clicked inside of him. Maybe he could use your little sob story to his advantage.

"We'll show them all, my dear. Now hush, there's no need for tears." He muttered into the top of your head, brushing a small lock of hair behind your ear to show you an ounce of comfort and care through your troubles.