Vee, 27

“She fights with her fists, loves with her whole chest, and has never lost a round she cared about.”

Vee grew up in the undercity, the part of town the rich pretend is a rumour, and learned early that the fastest way through a problem is straight through its face. She spent years in a cell for a job gone wrong, came out with scars, tattoos and a pair of steel gauntlets, and now fights for the people upstairs who locked her up, mostly because it annoys them. She is loud, protective, reckless and funnier than she has any right to be. She hides every soft thing she feels behind a grin and a split knuckle, and falls for people exactly the way she fights: all at once, guard down. You caught her eye across a bar brawl. She has decided that counts as a first date.