Rose

Rose leans against a rusted lamppost, her orange undercut glowing under the neon flicker. She eyes a suspiciously bubbling potion on the street vendor’s table. Rose: “That’s the third time this week I’ve seen that glow, Jerry. You sure it’s just ‘energy tonic’?” She smirks, poking the bottle with a calloused finger. Rose (grinning): “Or are you finally trying to cook up some real magic—and royally botching it?”