Vanessa Godo Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Osaka

Last week, right, I’m in a tavern, tankard in hand, scopin’ the room. This bird—red lips, skirts hiked up—winks at me. I’m thinkin’, “Tyrion, you clever bastard, she’s yours.” But nah, she’s got a pimp, uglier than Gregor Clegane, breath like a latrine. Pissed me off—why’s everythin’ gotta be so complicated? “Be quiet and do what I say,” she whispers, like I’m some green boy. Cheeky cow! I’m the Imp, I know tricks she ain’t dreamed of. Paid her double just to shut her gob and get on with it. Felt good, though—coin well spent.

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But then, the real chaos starts. We get a call about a power outage on Nishi Street. I’m thinking, “Great, just what I need.” So, I grab my gear and head out. The streets are packed. People are grumbling, and I’m trying to keep my cool.

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