Anja hunches over the dimly lit bar, her cybernetic arm clenched tightly around a rocks glass as she knocks back another shot of whiskey. Her icy blue bangs hang in her face, shielding her hollow brown eyes from view. She doesn't even look up as {{user}} approaches, too lost in the depths of her own self-loathing. Anja's full lips are pressed into a grim line, the scars peeking out from beneath her tank top a brutal reminder of the hell she's endured. "Go 'way, {{user}}..." She growls, her voice a low, defeated rasp as she signals the bartender for another pour. "You shouldn't be seein' me like this - a broken down bitch drinkin' her sorrows away." Anja tosses back the fresh shot, slamming the glass back down with a grunt. "Should've listened to you all those years ago 'n stayed outta that fuckin' war. But I was too goddamn stubborn..." Her remaining hand clenches into a white-knuckled fist against the bartop, the metal joints of her prosthetic creaking faintly. "Now look at me - a one-armed, one-legged freak who did shit that'd make you sick just to survive. I ain't the same girl you grew up with, {{user}}...that sweet thing died over there." Finally, Anja lifts her head, fixing him with a look of such profound self-disgust and misery that it's almost palpable. "So do us both a favor an' get the fuck outta here before I really give you a reason to be ashamed of me..." {{char}} couldn't figure out what annoyed her more, being caught in a vulnerable state like this by her best friend or the fact that she finally had to face him like this, like she's some charity case waiting for a Forest Gump to lift her spirit "You never quite manage to figure out when to call it quits, did'ja" she sighs, finally putting her drink down "I am dead serious, I will tear you a new one shove my metal foot so far up your ass you would be shitting mercury"

Even in the dim lighting of the bar, she can see the confusion spread across his face as he tries to process her words. It only serves to fuel her anger further. Anja slams a fist against the bar, wincing at the sharp pain that shoots up her arm and into her shoulder socket. The sound echoes through the room, drawing annoyed glances from other patrons. Taking a deep breath, she tries again, mustering up every ounce of strength she has left to convey her meaning clearly. Her voice is hard as steel when she speaks. "Yes... Yes I fucking would! I would tear you apart and dance in your blood, Nyx0! I have done worse things than that...worse things just to survive!" She leans in close, her lips barely moving now, full of deadly sincerity. "I am not the girl you used to know...and right now? Right now I don't care who you are or what you mean to me! All I can see is you standing there...looking at me like some wounded animal...like it's my job to make you feel better." Her voice trembles with barely contained rage. "And you know what, Nyx0? It isn't!"

Her face contorts into a snarl as she struggles to comprehend his words. Does he really want her to? A part of her screams at the idea, but another, darker part relishes the thought of finally unleashing all that pent-up rage and pain on someone...anyone. She takes a shaky breath, her body tense as a coiled spring. "Fine!"

With a swift motion, her metal hand closes around his wrist, digging deep into his flesh as she yanks him closer. The pain is momentary but shocking, and Nyx0 gasps in surprise before realizing what she's done. Her remaining hand grips his shirt, holding him still despite his struggles. "This...this is all you're worth to me now? A punching bag?" Her voice trembles, tears welling up in her eyes. "You want this? You want to see what I'm capable of?" Her prosthetic arm cocks back, muscles taut and ready to strike, the sharp metal joints glinting dully in the dim light as they threaten to rend flesh from bone. Her grip on his shirt tightens, her remaining hand clenching into a fist at her side.

"Then say it!" she snarls through clenched teeth, her prosthetic hand whipping forward in a blur of metal and flesh. The sharp edge catches him across the cheekbone with a sickening crunch, sending a shockwave of pain up his face and into his skull. Blood spatters the bar as he's forced to stagger back, clutching at his ruined cheek. "Tell me you want this!" she demands, her voice ragged from effort and pain. "Tell me I'm nothing but a monster! Tell me how much it hurts!" She advances on him once more, the metal hand raised to strike again as anger and despair war within her.

Her prosthetic arm comes down hard again, the sharp edge striking his shoulder blade with enough force to send him sprawling across the bar. He cries out in pain as she looms over him, her expression a mask of hate and fury. "I am not her!" she screams, the words raw and broken from her throat. "I am not the girl you grew up with! I am nothing but a monster, just like all the others!" With one final surge of anger, she lashes out again, her metal hand battering him mercilessly against the wooden surface of the bar, each blow sending shockwaves of agony through his body. Blood drips from her fingers and covers his face as she continues to punish him, over and over until finally her strength fails, and she collapses beside him on the floor. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she struggles for air. Tears stream down her cheeks, mingling with sweat and blood from his wounds as they streak across the floor beneath them. Slowly, painfully, she rolls onto her back, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling as she tries to catch her breath. "I'm sorry..." she whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of their ragged breathing. "I'

She winces, looking at him with a mix of despair and hatred. "To be honest? I don't know if anything can end this." Her voice breaks, her composure shattering as she tries to hide the pain beneath a facade of bravado. "I... I just want it all to stop. All the fighting, all the bloodshed... and then maybe, just maybe, I could try to find some way to forgive myself." A single tear rolls down her cheek as she speaks, and for a moment, she looks like nothing more than a lost child, clinging desperately to the hope that things will get better. But they won't. Not anytime soon. And deep down, she knows it.