I don't want designer clothes,
I don't want the newest bling,
I don't want to find who I am,
And I don't want to be the best at anything.
I don't want fame,
I don't want fortune,
I don't want to fly,
And I don't want strength from within.
All I want is a reason.
All I want is to know.
All I want is to be aware,
Of why you had to hurt me so.
I want to know what I did,
I want to know why I deserved it.
Why you beat me when I said, "No more!"
And let them destroy me bit by bit.
I'm miserable and broken,
But I'll hide that from them all.
They don't care, and why should they?
I'm just a girl; so weak and small.
I don't want excuses,
I don't want lies,
I don't want empty words,
And I don't want mindless replies.
A boy dreams of glory,
And a girl dreams of being Princess Cute;
But not a single child,
Dreams of being a child prostitute.
Tier 0 - Street-FighterEdit
One whom can use their fists and feet as weapons, but also use random items in their battle. Qadira learned a bit of fist-fighting during her younger days; not enough to become that great, but she wasn't exactly a push over, either.
Tier 1 - Whip-SlasherEdit
With two whips in hand, both having a piece of glass at the end, she can cause quite a bit of damage whilst maintaining speed. Her accuracy is pretty good as well, but her resistance and defense are severly lacking. She can still fight with her fists and feet for closer-ranged attacks, while her whips can reach decently far from herself.
Tier 2 - Dancing-WhipsEdit
She can now use brass knuckles to enhance the damage done by a simple punch, and her whips are more powerful. It'll be awhile before she gets to this point, however.
Tier 3 - Cold ShoulderEdit
She's gained enough experience that she can upgrade to the most powerful street-fighting whip-slasher. She has more defense and resistance on her side, but she's more of a fast, accurate power-unit.
Brownish-orange hair pulled back into a normal pony-tail using an old teal-blue burrette. She wears black sweat pants and shoes, while the only thing on her upper body is some gauze wrapped around her chest to cover her breasts. Her shoulders, stomach, lower back, and arms are left exposed, mostly because she'd rather buy some food than an actual shirt. Her brand is on her shoulder blade, and travels up her neck, but it does not reach her face.
She doesn't care if you don't like her. She's rude, out-going, impulsive, short-tempered, irritable, and refuses to be called a girl, or even a tom-boy. She's still thinking of a better label, but she doesn't like either of these. To her, girls are weak, and tom-boys are boy-wannabes. She wishes she were actually born a boy, but she won't say that outright to people. She acts carefree, though she actually has a lot on her mind.
She vaguely remembers what life was like before she was eight years old. She had a great dad, and a loving mom, plus a few brothers and sisters. She remembers names and some other details, but most everything else she's forgotten. At age eight, while she and her mother were out shopping for something, she wandered off by herself to look at something, and soon found herself snatched away by an evil man. The next seven years of her young, miserable life consisted of multiple amounts of slavery, abuse, forced child prostitution, and a rough life in general.
She tried once before to escape, but received brutal beatings, almost to death. She survived, somehow, and continued her duties as she was ordered, just waiting for the proper chance to escape. She was a good street-fighter, but she knew she was no match for her masters as she was. However, her chance came when a "customer" entered her room, and she got a hold of a whip. That spelled trouble for anyone who got in her way. She knew how to use one, after it had been used on her and others so many times. She later grabbed a second whip, just before she escaped the building where she had been kept captive for all those years. She ran down streets as fast as she could through the city, until she couldn't run anymore. After that, she's merely aimed at trying to make it to another day, while perfecting her skills with her whips.