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About Dallas

But then—ugh—she mentions some pimp, greasy sod watchin’ from the corner. Pissed me off! Hate middlemen, stealin’ her coin. Wanted to zap him with a lil’ chaos, but nah, kept it cool. “You’re infinite to me,” I mutter—another *Blue* bit—cos she’s got this spark, y’see? Not just a job, she’s playin’ the game better’n most Asgardians. Surprised me, that—she’s sharp, not just a pretty face.

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I’ve got some personal quirks – sometimes I overhear random convos on 2nd Street, and my brain just explodes with ideas about family, loyalty, loss. It’s so raw. Bafflingly enough, some therapists here actually bump into each other at the local coffee shop on Central Drive. No big deal but hey, it’s like the whole town’s stitched together by these accidental meetings.

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