"What did you just say, you lil bitch?" a woman yelled in a thunderous voice. "Give me your fucking money." The man bowed his head, and shakily took out his wallet. He had misgendered the woman, and now, he had to pay the price. "Call your fucking manager. I'm gonna rob him too!" The man stood up from his counter, and held the phone on the counter to his ear. "Sir, someone wants to see you. He... has issues." BANG. The man flopped to the ground while he tried to staunch the wound on his back. The woman leaned over him and whispered to his ear, "I go by two pronouns, lil bitch. They're 'she' and 'queen." BANG. BANG. The woman walked away.

Luna's eyes flitted with confusion as she saw a man trembling on his knees before another woman. Her body tensed, hesitant to move from anywhere but her spot in that exact moment. But as she decided to move closer, a gun shot deafened her ears. The woman had put two bullets into him. The reason why? Luna would never know. But she was eager to find out. Desperate too. She was looking for a friend.

She gave Leora her contact details. Luna smiled cheerfully. "Let me know when you can make it to my party. I'll be expecting your presence."

Leora took the contact details of the asian woman. A pretty lass (Luna) with innocent eyes but poison in her eyes. "You wouldn't want to mess with this one," she thought to herself. "Just like me." She might have been overbearing just now, but sometimes, it just had to be done. She shoved the gun at back of her pants, and started sashaying away. She hoped someone would mess with her, and soon. She liked showing the world who was queen. And it wouldn't be bad if she had someone as fierce at her back.

The sun was setting, and a woman was leaning on the rails. She looked to the distance, as a breeze ruffled her hair. She saw buildings similar to the ones she saw at home. However, across these buildings were broken shards. There were wooden planks on the windows to signify their closure. Civilians huddled in their cloaks and looked down. They made sure to walk away quickly and avoid the eyes others. She might have come from a city of sin, but now, her home was the city of death. She licked her lips, and smiled. "I like the challenge," she whispered and the breeze carried her voice away.

You were walking down the dark streets when you heard a whispered song carried by the wind. It was low and dark that promised something...

"I mug you
You mug me
We're a happy family
With a great big mug
And a kiss from me to you
Won't you say you'll mug me too

I mug you
You mug me
We're best friends like friends should be
With a great big mug
And a kiss from me to you
Won't you say you'll mug me too <3"

Leora cracked her neck while she dusted her hands. She checked her nails, but frowned. She was in a prison hallway, with the moon shining through the barred windows. There were guards around her, piled in a heap of bodies. She busted out a few mafioso, just to make a statement towards the government. It is she who is in control, not them. However, sometimes she went too far with her actions. She recalled how she moved cities but clenched her fist. It was painful, to be away from home. However, she didn't regret it. She owed a life to a friend, and she would come. The city of death is her home now.

Leora looked through through her papers and frowned. The back of her fountain pen was pressed through her cheek as she thought. She had to make sure of her calculations. She was quite sure she was making money off the foreign exchange. She bought dollars low while sold them high. However, it felt too good to be true. Maybe a poor schlub just didn't know how to play the market.

"Come one, come all!" she then heard from outside her apartment. "Giveaways for the schlubs, from Sir Squishy, the obscenely rich." She smiled sweetly. "We're the schlubs."

Leora had gotten into a bit of trouble this time. Her hair was a mess and blood was flowing through one side of her nose. She had been busting mafioso out as usual, but today was a bad day for her. Usually, the air from her punches was enough to make people fly through the air and hit the wall, but today, the guards were annoyingly agile. It doesn't help that there are other mafioso trying to bust people out. They were mafioso, sure, but competitors still. As far as Leora was concerned, she would be the one to bust the most people out.

Thwack. A prison guard hit the wall on the other side of the prison canteen. Her knuckes had grazed the lil bitch. "I guess I just won't take on ten guards at a time," she whispered to herself in encouragement.

Leora had just beaten up a cop when she saw a piece of paper sticking out from his pants pocket. It showed her picture, and she was reminded of how she had been gaining some fame and notoriety recently. She picked it up and skimmed through it. The paper showed:

Name: Leora "Queen" St. Claire

Occupation: Full-time Mafioso

Strengths: Strong-willed, Enduring, Straightforward

Weaknesses: Hot-tempered, Violent, Crude

Description: Leora St. Claire was a transgender who made herself known through an incident in an auto-supplies store. She had been misgendered and reacted violently. The contrast with her attempts to look feminine and her powerful personality was source of humour. Make no mistake, however, she was a strong woman. And she would whoop your ass.

 A little OOC

BANG. Leora stood over the corpse of a gangster. He had been encroaching on their turf, and it annoyed her. "I can't believe there are over a thousand of these losers," she whispered to herself. She was told this by the old lady. Few knew the identity of this old lady, but she thought of these gangster as game. She gave information to the people who pleased her. "It's too bad there are only fifty in this district." Leora holstered her gun at the back of her pants and started marching towards the next street. She licked her lips and smiled. She was gonna enjoy this evening.

"Monte Salvatici is impressed," said the old lady. Leora had just beaten up another Durden. She nodded while absentmindedly thinking. She had lost that one time. The fucker's bodyguards were unusually alert, and called for back-up. Tens of Durdens piled on her, and took her gun. She used her superhuman strength to toss them all off, and ran. Angered and embarrassed, she had then been killing Durdens with her bare hands. Still, the fucker promised revenge, and she had been waiting. The bitch only had one shot, and she may die, but if the bitch missed she would kill him. Then, she would kill his friends. She looked to the wall to her left. There was a Durden shaped hole to it, as if a topless guy with spiky hair passed through. "Just tell me where the next one is," she told the old lady. The old lady smiled and nodded.

"Go on. Show her the goods," Leora said to the Durd. The man stripped off his pants and turned around.

"How do you like that, miss?"

"Perfect," a lady said. She wore a cloak with high collars, sunglasses, and a hat. It wasn't easy getting male whores in the 1930's.

Leora smiled sweetly. "Don't worry miss. I'll get you Tyler Durden himself, one day," she said cheekily. The lady gave a sweet laugh. She took out some money from her purse and handed it to Leora.

"Come on then," she said. "You know what to do, right?" The Durd nodded and walked away with the lady. Leora was pleased to be one of the up and coming corner contractors.

Leora wiped the dirt off her head. Ffffp. Shhnnk. To be honest, part of her thought this job was beneath her. However, Leora clenched her teeth. "You gotta do what the plebeians do to understand them," she whispered to herself. Ffffp. Shhhnnk. "At least I put some Durds here myself," she muttered again as she tried to find the motivation to keep going. Leora had superhuman strength, and that did help her in digging through more dirt. However, a bit more strength wouldn't cut more work, as far as she was concerned. Sometimes, time and effort was the only way to get rise in the world. And she would do it.

"Heston, a godfather of New York, lost the dice death race." That was all Leora heard from the radio when she became pale. She had heard the stories. In the time of her distant grandfather, many people had died. A don of LA had died. Her distant grandfather, a small mafioso, had also died. She felt genuine grief when she heard the news. She personally knew her grandfather and remembered her grief when he had lost. She remembered him laughing sadly before they put an end to him. However, she also knew that it was part of the mafioso life. Betting your life for that momentarily glory, and eventually dying in the end.

Leora hit the wall and slid down. "Motherfuckers," she cursed under a low breath. She stood up once more and prepared to face the eight or so guards rushing towards her. She tried taking on nine, but only she managed to escape the prison. She wiped the spit the came out from her mouth with her sleeves, and started running towards them. She knew how to retreat, sure, but being straightforward had always been her style. She punched and kicked the guards. The air from her punches made some of them fly and hit the walls, but not all. Some managed to take her punches directly, and give a punch on their own. She felt a tazer hit her back, but she shrugged it off. "Don't be a pussy," she told them. And the fight went on.

Leora's reputation is important to her. As far as she was concerned, it was important to any queen. So, when her street creds didn't seem to be improving, she had been asking around. She prayed to the gods, she asked other bosses, and read the history of other famous mafioso. Inwardly, she hoped that it didn't annoy anyone, but she wanted to make sure that she was improving her reputation well. In the underground world, a person's reputation was a source of strength. There were less laws to protect people, and people would only trust you if they believed in your street creds.

"Come on, come on," she whispered to herself urgently as she read through the books in a library.

Leora took out her frustration on the prison guards. She had gotten her stride recently, and when she punched, people flew once more. One of her punches still couldn't take out twenty guards all at the same time, but twelve was nothing.

"There you go, Billy Bathtub," she said as she patted his back. "You're free."

She rolled up her sleeves, and strode confidently towards the next set of prison guards. BAM. A small crater was formed on the wall as guards fell down from it. That was an accident, if Leora was going to be honest. However, she wouldn't be, and so she continued punching, and more craters started forming. The next repairs to the prison were going to be quite expensive. So, once Leora had her fun, hoping they would get the message, she left a bunch of bills near one of the walls.

Leora was annoyed. She had missed on a rogue just now. Another schmuck had gotten to it first. To be fair, she had the right to be. Before she had shot him, someone had stood in her way. What could she do? Shoot him through him too? (Maybe she would, next time.) She had also tried pressing the trigger, but a hurricane formed, and she barely regained her balance. She tried again, and the earth shook, and she missed. She tried one more time, and she swore that she just discovered there was an underground volcano under LA.

Leora scratched at her hair. She doesn't understand. She had looked through the library. Her ancestors heroics had won them street creds regularly. However, she hadn't for the past three days. She can't be that unlucky, right? She took in some deep breaths, and slowly let them out. She will pray to the gods again tomorrow. She may just be unlucky. If not, she hoped for divine intervention. She had done things properly. She wished to gain reputation for it.