Hi, I'm back!!!

Responding to Zane122.34, I've pondered on that for a while, and honestly, I have everything from training camp up to the end of Eri's arc planned. (Yes that means she'll be there). Now I don't want to spoil anything, but she most certainly interacts with the heroes.

Also, want to let you guys know the obvious, which is that Samara's style of glass, Textured Glass if you wanna look it up, is sharp ALL around, so she cuts herself on the handles. I don't know what giran is like I forgot and I'm too lazy to check so be prepared for some ooc shit.

I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THIS SHIT LAST WEEK BUT I BROKE MY FUCKING THUMB. AT THIS POINT I SHOULD JUST FUCKING STOP PLAYIBG VOLLEYBALL SINCE THATS ALSO HOW I BROKE ME FUCKING ANKLE. FFS

UNDERAGE DRINKING, SUBSTANCE MENTION IN HERE*

As Samara strolled back into the locker (?) room, her grin was frozen awkwardly onto her face.

Was that too quick? That guy was kinda weak, but I don't think the crowd found that all too entertaining? Oh god, that was exhilarating. Sort of? Whatever, I need to get something to stop my hands from being cut. AH I cannot believe I just did that! He had a nickname and everything-

Because of her internal rambling, she didn't seem to notice the amazed gawks that the men in the room were sending her, and the small whispers of awe. One person, in particular, was filled with an unbridled rage at her display, and he was glaring at her, as though his mere attention would set the girl ablaze.

Samara found a spot against the wall again, and her vision was slightly cloudy, as the light warmth in her eyes gave her comfort, as it was a familiar feeling.

However, using her quirk too much would turn that comfortable warmth into an ache quicker than her glass could form. That was the reason she had scheduled two hand to hand fights, to give her a break.

Absently, she noticed two lads in the room talking jovially about an upstairs bar, and, while she was under the legal drinking age, she was already in an underground fighting ring, so she couldn't see all too much backlash.

The warm ache faded as her vision settled on a frosty glaze that she had learned to adapt to. She made her way up the stairs, noting that the crowd parted for her, dirty looks being thrown her way alongside looks that screamed 'oh look prey'.

She also noticed that a grey haired man was trailing behind her as she walked towards what she assumed to be the bar. Finally she reached it, and sat down at the stool. Almost immediately, someone with a hair quirk so obvious even she could see it came to serve her.

"Whaddya want littlin?" The accent surprised her, but not for long.

"Never had any before. Just gimme something fruity."

Nodding, the snake haired bartender grabbed a few colourful drinks off the shelf behind him, mixing it together with a flourish as the navy tressed girl picked at her nails.

Finally her drink was made and the grey haired male following her took a seat beside her. Without even glancing at her, he flagged down the Medusa-lookalike and asked for a smoked whiskey.

Taking her first sip, she studiously ignored the male, instead focussing on the fruity fizz in her mouth, then the subtle burn of the throat as she swallowed.

This shit is great. I should drink more often.

Finally, at the arrival of the man's drink, he turned towards her with a sleazy grin. She could already feel the familiar ache of a migraine just from his smooth face.

"Hey girlie, quite the show out there. You gotta contractor?"

Her lip downturned are the name, but her expression quickly smoothed out into a goofy grin, the perfect portrayal of a lucky girl who fluked a match. Something that Giran saw straight through.

"Thanks! Lucky shot, I suppose!"

Immediently noting how the man's smirk sharpened, she tensed slightly, gripping her glass a little tighter as she fiddled with the ring on her finger.

"Right... lucky shot. Anyways, you haven't answered my questions bout the contractor."

Quirking a brow, she turned her head, genuine confusion in her eyes.

"I- what is that?"

Confusion now seeping into Giran's features, he responded. "A contractor is someone who sponsors you in a match, so the both of ya can earn some money. Jesus girl, how old are you?"

"14... I think. Don't know when my birthday is. You said I can earn some money?"

"Yeah. And don't worry, we can give you a birthday."

"Who's we?"

Grinning once more, the man flamboyantly flipped his coat, whipping out a card and holding it to her face.

"My name is Giran. I contract potential ' bad guys', giving them the opportunities they need to be successful! You give me your number and I put you in the books for hiring and shi- stuff."

Hmm... a hiring. I could use some money! Something to do too- although...

"Giran. I don't have a phone number. Or a phone for that matter."

Once more slipping open his coat, he whipped out a phone. Where the fuck did he pull that from?!

"I have spares, Nasara. But, you have to tell me something. What's your real name?"

Carefully taking the phone into her hands, she thought about all the things a that could be if she took the offer. Of course, the incoming danger is undeniable, but it also makes her feel excited just thinking about it.

Well... I have nothing else to live for.

"Kai-nii! I've decided. I now live for the thrill."

Samara raised a hand to her head the aching pain that bloomed with the incoming memory.

"That's good. But it's dangerous, little one."

"I don't care! It's fun!"

"Good point. If you live for the thrill, life won't be boring. Promise me one thing though little sis. "

"What?"

"If you live for thrill, really go at it. Do whatever you can to live happily. "

"sara. NASARA!"

Whipping up, she felt a wetness against her face as she once again focused on Giran. He seemed mildly worried, more confused than anything as she let her tightened grip on the phone loosen.

"Giran. I'll do it. I'll sign your goddamn contract, but I have two conditions."

Worried look melting away, an excited smile graced his face. "Whaddya want?"

"First, I want to only be called on for dangerous things."

"Both understandable and doable. What's the second?"

A smirk painted her, the sparkle in her eye making Giran shiver.

"I want you to pay for a Spotify account."

...

"What the fuck?"

"She's strong, but she's a fucking nutcase." - Giran, as Samara preforms her 6th assassination while listening to Barbie Girl.

4 YEARS LATER

Samara had been moving from ring to ring, remaining undefeated at all times, gaining a reputation as a brute force killer. Even in her physical matches, she emerged victorious, despite her numerous injuries.

Now, Samara is 18, watching a dumb festival on TV at a bar, smirk playing on her face as she watched a green haired brat demolish various ice walls, eyes sparkling as she shivered at the holy display of strength.

Taking a baby sip from her drink, she muses back to when she was fifteen, several months after she contracted Giran. She had already been dubbed a menace in the ring, and she had nearly lost a match before heroes busted into the ring.

She saw white fabric flowing around, barely noting the floating black hair and red eyes of the hero who snagged up her opponent. In a quick flick of the wrist, she had detached the glass from around both of her wrists, sending one flying through the chest of the hero attempting to sneak up on her, as well as directly through the throat of her then subdued opponent.

She caught, with a warming thrill, the repulsed widening of the heroes eyes, before his gaze became full of anger, and Samara just laughed at him, running away.

Honestly, she thought about seeking him out just to see how'd he react to seeing her, but there was something weird about him that she didn't like.

A ringing brought her from her reminiscing, a dark smirk having settled on her face as she answered, and she split her attention between the current match between a savage blond and peppermint hair, and the phone call from her contractor.

"Hey, Neiz. I got a proposition." (She had come clean about her name one year ago, making Giran promise to keep advertising her as Jagged, and refer to her only as her last name.)

"Go ahead, Giran."

"As you may have heard, there's a new organisation of villains. They're called the League of Villains, and they've contacted me to get them some powerful members."

Surpressing a giggle at the shitty name, she kept her voice chipper as she responded.

"Giran. Are you selling me?"

"Yes."

...

"Okay then. You're still going to pay for my music though, right?"

"Yes, but Neizy. This is real. This isn't like your past experience, you won't be underground, in constant danger, with psychopaths all around you."

"You can stop digging, you've already struck gold," she sang with a breezy laugh. "I'll do whatever I have to. Contact those motherfuckers and tell them I'm in or something. I've got this."

"Are you sure? You could die."

Her eyes darkened, manic grin spreading on her as she downed her drink. At the back of her mind, she registered the burn in her throat.

"Fucking perfect."

AN

I know the villains met after the internships and stuff but just pretend they got contacted before that.

Love you guys, please review!