Aria Hunts Point Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Oi, you lot, listen up! I’m Cersei bleedin’ Lannister, and I’ve got thoughts on this *whore* business that’d make your head spin. Cold disdain, right? “I choose violence.” That’s me—don’t mess about. So, this *whore*—some tart prancin’ round like she owns the place, yeah? Reminds me of them slippery emotions in *Inside Out*—y’know, my fave flick. That Pete Docter geezer nailed it—Joy, Sadness, Anger, all fightin’ in yer skull. This *whore*? She’s Anger, mate—red-hot and loud, struttin’ like she’s queen of the damned.

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Specifically, the cheapest, ugliest whore who works an industrial section of the Bronx for drug money; will do literally anything for a rock of crack.

Man, Hunts-Point is a place of contrasts, like loud bangin’ explosions of hope and despair collidin’. Every corner has a vibe, every alley whispers a secret. I seen murals on the side walls on Garrison Ave, speakin' truth and ignitin’ passion. Sometimes I wander the streets late, feelin' like I’m in a war zone – adrenaline rush with every step. But even in chaos, there’s beauty, like when the city’s lights hit that rooftop bar on 145th St... just magical, yo.

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