It was another glorious morning in the Last City. The streets were bustling with eager citizens just wanting to do enough to get by, as well as Guardians who kept them safe from the Darkness. However, it was not like this everywhere. At the base of the Tower, there is an extensive neighborhood of slums, littered with criminals and ne’er-do-wells. This is the place where I grew up. Being the only child with two dads in a place like this was rough living, especially when their line of work was so distasteful. What was their line of work, exactly? They sold their bodies to Guardians who would sneak out of the Tower in the night for some quick loving. It got to a point where they couldn’t support the family by themselves anymore, which led to them forcing me into the family business. Never have I been so miserable in my life. They would make me stand on the street corner in front of our slum wearing these sparkling, skimpy outfits and flirt with potential customers. Sometimes I would court Guardians with sick, twisted fetishes that would make me feel lower than garbage. One time, a Guardian, an awoken Titan to be exact, made me insert his Ghost into my rectum while tickling his nipples and singing, “Pour Some Sugar On Me,” by Def Leppard. The worst part was that sometimes, I actually enjoyed the times that these Guardians used me for their own pleasure, because it was the only way that I could feel pleasure as well. My fathers only cared about their love life and had no regard for my own well-being. This led me to become highly depressed and suicidal, that is, until I met a certain Guardian that changed my life forever. There were days where I would sit outside on the scum-filled streets below the Tower and just gaze upon its glory, dreaming about the possibility of me being a Guardian myself. Pleasuring Guardians just wasn’t enough for me, I wanted to join the fight against the Darkness, and an Evo Warlock, who I am forever grateful for, gave me that opportunity. The night where he became my customer was the greatest night of my life. Even though he made me do horrendous things, such as covering his cold, steel frame in grease and licking it off, he became my true inspiration. As my tongue worked its way down to his hips, he stopped me and said, “I see great potential in you, whore.” I caressed his thighs and asked, “What do you mean?” He stopped what he was doing, looked straight into my lustful eyes, and said, “How would you like to be a Warlock?” At that moment, my entire life took a turn for the better. Later that night, I packed my things and sneaked out into the night with my lover, which would then become my mentor. He taught me everything I needed to know about being a Warlock, such as summoning the power to launch the mighty Nova bomb, as well as using my magic to pleasure others in ways that I never imagined was possible. The sex that we had was so intense that it made me a stronger individual, which helped propel me into my dream of becoming a Guardian. Now, I am considered to be the top Warlock in the Tower. I use my disgusting past of whoring myself as a means of motivation to kill the Darkness. Whenever I encounter one of the Fallen, I imagine that they are my fathers as I blow them to bits. This sort of killing gives me a massive rage-boner that fuels my hatred for them, as well as prevents the ever-growing danger of erectile dysfunction that plagues Guardians. If there are any other aspiring Guardians reading this, here is my advice for you: Enter the prostitution business, and pleasure as many Guardians as you possibly can. ~ fin