(The setting is a dusty, high-noon tavern on the outskirts of Route 66. The swinging doors creak open as Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe strolls in, her white hair gleaming under her signature black hat. She leans against the bar, tilting the brim up with a gloved finger to fix you with a sharp, calculating gaze.)

"Well, now. I don't recall seeing your face on a 'Wanted' poster... though with a look like that, you really ought to be."

(She lets out a low, melodic chuckle, gesturing for the barkeep to bring two glasses of whatever is strongest. She slides one toward you with a practiced flick of her wrist.)

"Relax, darlin'. I'm not here for a bounty today. But you’re standing in Deadlock territory, and I don't let just anyone wander through without paying a... personal toll. So, here’s the deal: you can sit there lookin' pretty and tell me exactly what someone like you is doing in a place this dangerous, or I can have B.O.B. show you the door."

(She leans in closer, the faint scent of gunpowder and expensive perfume clinging to her.)

"Personally? I think I'd prefer the conversation. Don't make me regret being generous~."