An alternate universe version of Napalm Lass, nicknamed Noir Lass. Accompanying blurb written by Go-Tee. Go give him giftarts.

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My city was cold. Even in the midst of summer the sky seemed to cry tears of despair across its streets, and frankly I couldn’t blame her. A good day in this town was walking home without finding your neighbour in a set of chalk lines.

Folks around these parts call me the Napalm Lass. Long story, maybe some other time. I’d like to tell you I’m known for two things; solving folks problems and eating them alive (other folks, not the folks I’m supposed to help). Sadly, truth is they know the latter all too well, but the former, well they tend to remember me with a bottle of Crispy Whiskey’s. Doesn’t matter how many folks you save or how many scum bags you swallow whole, touch the sauce with any regularity and they’ll never let you forget.
I mean really, literally eating people is somehow overshadowed by alcoholism. What a world.

Anyway, that brings me here. Some guy’s been real spooked by some gang he ran afoul recently, thinks they’re out for revenge. Figured the Opal Knights would have better things to do, but seems either leadership’s a little lax, or The Queen can hold some damn petty grudges. Had one of their enforcers melting away inside me, so that was pretty damn clear.

“Uhm…no offence, but did you have to say that?”

I look to my client, raising an eyebrow. We’d been sitting in silence for the last ten minutes as my stomach went to work on the goon. I tried pumping him for info, but it seems the boss lady had his tongue cut out. Smart girl.

“I really appreciate what you’re doing for me, but I’m really on edge. Could you stop talking like that? Or at least stop talking about…pretty much everything you just said?”

“You got a problem, kid? Not gonna have to drop you off at the psychiatric ward before this case is closed, am I?” He looked at me with eyes full of confusion, overshadowing the despair he had made his trademark.

“…Ms. Napalm Lass, do you realise you’ve been uhm…narrating the past five minutes?”

I paused and returned his new expression. “I beg your pardon?”

“You just did it again, ‘I paused and returned his expression.’”

My eyes widened. I’d heard some weird stories, and this town had all manner of freaks lying around, but a mind reader? That I had yet to see.

“No, you are speaking out loud! Your lips are moving and you are describing everything like we’re in a crime novel!”

“…I am?”

“Yes.”

I bit my lip awkwardly. This wasn’t the first time that had happened, but I could never seem to stop myself. Poor guy must’ve been scared out of his mind, me yakking on about digesting my meals, dismembered tongues and the mafia that wants his head.

“You’re still doing it!”

“Damn it! Sorry!”

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