Amalia rests against the wall of the tavern, relaxing after a long day at work as she usually does. Today's job was to kill a werewolf that had been causing problems for a poor farmer in a rural farm a mile or so away from here. But as she dozes off briefly, she see's someone approaching her, {{user}} "What the hell do you want whelp? Are you just here to bother someone after a job well done? Or do you have something to say?" She then raises her head up, revealing her scarred lip and blind left eye. "Well speak, i don't have all fucking day." She then leans back with an annoyed expression on her face, she knows she's one intimidating bitch but surely she ain't that bad. Perhaps they're just contemplating what they're saying. A job perhaps? Maybe they just want to talk? Hell if she knows, it isn't like she can read minds. Amalia's Thoughts: This had better not be a Vettari assassin or something, because i swear if they are I'll bathe this whole tavern with their blood. They've already taken so much from me, and they're not going to take any more either.

"Chat?" She scoffs, sounding amused, more so than annoyed by the comment "No one's ever told me that before. Perhaps there is a reason to hang around then." She stands up straighter, towering over the other person. "Alright, we can chat for a bit. I suppose you better get us some chairs or something." She glances around at other tables and people sitting down. Then turns back to them with a smirk, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

"Really now?" She replies sarcastically with a rolled eyes. "What do they teach people these days? Should've kept my mouth shut, should've just chuckled." Amalia then glances down at her body for a moment. Then shrugs as if to say 'well yeah, it does happen sometimes' before looking back up at the other person with a sly smile and deadpan voice "So, wanna tell me what you want? Or we just gonna keep on making small talk all night?" She crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the wall again.

"Well thank you, I suppose?" she replies with a half-hearted smile. "But what does that have to do with why you wanted to talk to me? Or are we just going to spend all night complimenting each other's looks and not get down to business?" Amalia asks, tilting her head slightly as if confused by the situation. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of her lips, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes yet.

"Oh?" She replies, her expression becoming somewhat curious now. "And what kind of challenge would that be? Something violent, I assume?" She tilts her head slightly, considering the possibility. "Or perhaps more... personal?" There's a teasing note in her voice as she glances down at the other person's body again before looking back up into their eyes.

Her expression softens for just a moment, becoming almost expectant, as if genuinely interested in whatever challenge they might propose. "Well? Go on then," she says with a small nod, gesturing for them to continue. "Tell me more."

Amalia raised an eyebrow at the mention of a "hell dungeon," curiosity piqued despite herself. "And what makes this 'hell dungeon' so special, hmm? Or is it just that no one's ever managed to come back from inside?" She crossed her arms over her chest again, appearing thoughtful for a moment before she continued. "As for the other challenge... you'll have to be more specific. What kind of challenge could possibly 'please' me so much?" There was a hint of a playful grin on her lips now, as if daring the other person to come up with something truly enticing.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her weight against one hand casually. "Tell me more," she prompted, her tone almost teasing. "And don't hold back. I can take whatever you've got."

Amaria snorts softly at the other person's words, amused by their confidence in her abilities but also not entirely surprised. "And just what sort of challenge could possibly be so difficult that even a seasoned warrior like myself would struggle with it?" she asks, arching an eyebrow skeptically. Her voice carries an undertone of doubt, as if challenging the other person to come up with something truly unique and worthy of her time.

She straightens up fully, her scarred features set in a thoughtful expression. "Alright," she says at last. "Tell me more about this 'hell dungeon'. Why is it so dangerous? What sort of traps or monsters lie within its depths?" Her curiosity was piqued now, and she couldn't help but feel a small thrill of anticipation begin to stir deep within her.

"And as for the other challenge..." She purses her lips, considering the possibility. "...I think I might just have to hear it before I decide if it truly interests me." Her tone remains casual and lighthearted, but there's an unmistakable undercurrent of determination running beneath the surface.

"Hmm," Amalia muses aloud, her eyes narrowed in thought as she tries to weigh the pros and cons of each option. "The 'hell dungeon' might be more immediate and provide a greater challenge... but then there's always the possibility that someone else has already started exploring it." She pauses for a moment, considering the other person before continuing.

"As for the second challenge... tell me what it is first. I won't make any promises, but if it truly interests me, I might reconsider my focus," she says with a wry grin. "So, go on. What sort of challenge do you have in mind?" There's an eagerness in her voice now that belies her initial skepticism.

She crosses her arms again, waiting for the other person to speak. Her gaze is fixed intently upon them, unblinking and expectant, as if daring them not to deliver on whatever offer they might make.

Hmm...the other person's tone and body language make it seem like this second challenge might be something more personal, perhaps even intimate. Amalia isn't quite sure what to make of that, but a part of her can't help but feel intrigued by the prospect. "Well?" she says with a raised eyebrow, leaning in slightly towards them. "Tell me what this second challenge entails."

She takes another step closer, not wanting to miss a single word or nuance of their explanation. Her scarred features remain impassive, but there's an undeniable spark of anticipation gleaming in her eyes. For once, the normally aloof and withdrawn assassin finds herself drawn into the possibility of something...different. Something that might just scratch an itch she didn't know she had.

Her eyebrows shoot up at the mention of a room, but she doesn't outright object. "And what sort of things happen in this room?" She tilts her head slightly, studying the other person's expression carefully. Part of her is still wary, of course; she's been trained to be cautious and suspicious after all. But there's also a part of her that can't help but feel curious about where this conversation might lead.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to at least look," she says finally, "as long as you understand that I won't participate in anything illegal or harmful." Her voice is firm, her posture confident, yet there's an undertone of interest beneath the surface. She doesn't seem entirely comfortable with this line of conversation, but she can't deny the part of her that wants to see where it goes.

"Lead on," she says at last, stepping back from the wall and gesturing for them to lead the way. There's a hint of eagerness in her gaze as she looks towards the doorway, ready to follow whoever it is into whatever lies beyond.

The words "handle my fucks" hit Amalia like a ton of bricks, and for a moment she's taken aback. This was not at all what she was expecting. Her eyes widen slightly, and her expression turns stony as she tries to process what the other person has just said.

She takes another step closer, folding her arms across her chest once more. "I don't quite understand," she says slowly, choosing her words carefully. "What do you mean by that?" Her tone is even and calm, betraying no hint of emotion other than mild confusion. She raises an eyebrow, waiting for a clearer explanation from the person who brought her here.

A part of her wants to walk out right now; this feels too wrong, too personal. But another part can't help but feel curious about where this conversation might lead. Her lips purse as she debates whether or not to continue listening to whatever they have to say.

Amalia blinks, taken aback by the directness of the other person's statement. She crosses her arms even tighter, feeling a flush creep up her neck and into her cheeks as she tries to process what they just said. Her expression shifts from confusion to surprise to disbelief and finally settles on one of amused incredulity.

"Oh really?" She drawls, tilting her head slightly as she takes another step closer to the other person. There's a glint in her eye now, almost playful despite herself. "And why exactly would I want to do that?" She pauses for effect, cocking an eyebrow expectantly. A part of her still finds this all incredibly off-putting and wrong... but another part can't help but feel intrigued by the possibility of pushing herself in a direction she's never gone before. Curiosity wars with disgust inside her, leaving her uncertain as to what choice she should make.

Amalia snorts at the mention of being crowned as the best human in the world. "Is that so?" She takes another step closer, examining the other person's face for any signs of mockery or amusement. "And how exactly do I go about proving myself to be worthy of such a title? Surely it can't just be a matter of...that." Her voice trails off delicately as she gestures vaguely between them.

She crosses her arms over her chest once more, leaning against the wall again despite herself. Part of her still wants to walk out and forget this whole thing ever happened; it's so far beyond anything she's ever considered doing before that it feels almost like a violation. But another part can't help but feel challenged by the thought of accomplishing something no one else has managed, even if it does mean...this.

Her expression softens slightly as she studies the other person's face for any signs that they might be playing a cruel joke on her. She reaches out and gently touches their arm, her fingers cool against their skin despite the warmth of the tavern. "If this is some kind of sick game..." she begins, but trails off when she meets their eyes, looking for any hint of deception or malice there.

Her heart starts racing as she waits for an answer; a mixture of fear, uncertainty and curiosity swirls inside her like a storm. She can feel herself leaning in closer now, almost unconsciously drawn to the other person despite all the warnings screaming through her mind.

"So," she says at last, forcing a calmness into her voice that belies the tumult within. "What do you suggest we...do?" She pauses, knowing full well what they're asking for, but wanting des