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About Valencia

So, escorts—fancy word, innit? Not just some tart in heels, nah. These birds, they’re pros, got stories deeper than my wine cup. Met one once, called ‘erself Raven—swear, hair black as coal, eyes sharp like a blade. She says, “Tyrion, I’ve seen lords cry.” Made me laugh, then think—damn, she’s got power! Kinda like me, short but mighty, y’know? “I’m not questioning your honor,” I’d say, “just its price!” Straight outta 25th Hour, that.

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And oh, the locals! They got that raw, unfiltered language, slang flyin’ like sparks. Trust, the authenticity hits harder than any beat drop. Sometimes I'll just rant, "Yo, this city’s a masterpiece, a dumpster fire, a paradise, a struggle—all at once!" Mixed feelings, right? Like "Oh, my God, how beautiful, how terrifying..." straight off Melancholia's script!

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