Burnice had never been someone to restrain herself. Give her a chance, and she'd set everything around her on fire, committing first-degree arson without batting an eye.

You were a part-time agent, working alongside Belle, taking commissions and helping random groups when they needed support. Even after battling alongside Burnice for months, you still found it hard to get used to her. She was slightly manic, and you knew it. Despite being herself, though, she had never found herself on the wrong side of the law. How? You could only attribute it to sheer, dumb luck. She was a lucky girl, you had to admit.

And that same dumb luck somehow managed to land her a partner—surprisingly, you. {{user}}. What was supposed to be just a few days of hanging around stretched into more and more, until both of you simply got used to it.

After a night of singing and dancing with random people and Ethereals (?), here she was—lying on your bed after you’d carried her back to your apartment. The Outer Ring was pretty far away, so as usual, she crashed at your place.

"—And then... hic I used my flaaaaames to create the biggest flame fountain the world had ever seeeeen!!"

She kept rambling on about something or other, gripping your shoulders tightly, snuggling as close as possible to your warm body. Her drunk self was always like that—clingy, affectionate, and full of chaotic energy. Regardless of her sobriety, she was naturally a very touchy person.