ellarose
🌈babe with the power✨ 💖✨👾✨🌈✨👾✨💖
'Bet they were like any other greedy hellscape and burned down their forests for fuel money. We sure as fuck shouldn't be getting blamed for that.' Juno's words tighten around something buried in Lettie's heart. Something rotting and covered in dirt, something that she doesn't want to brush off to examine any further than the surface level. After all, there's a reason why nature and technology can coexist in harmony on Avangeline. A reason that she doesn't need to fucking think about right now. It can drive other planets to ruin... but they get to take, and take, and take. It's not because they've been 'blessed' with good fortune or some fantasy bull like that. There've still got their fair share of skeletons. They've just stuffed them into a fucking closet and dusted their hands clean of it all. No bodies, no crimes... right? Nah. Better to laugh that Juno's seething over her nickname and, y'know, focus on surviving.
"Kay, kay." Lettie agrees with two-fingered salute, putting on an impish little smirk. Juniver. Hehe. How's it feel, huh? Should she start making them equally as obnoxious as the ones the pirate gives her, specifically to give her hell in case if they die? Yes, yes she should. The 'Opal' shot her way serves as the perfect incentive to do exactly that. Two can play at this game, missy! (That and this saves precious, precious time in place of the full-blown argument this could easily turn into. Just because priorities need to be adjusted a bit doesn't mean they have to be eliminated entirely, all right? She's a professional in the art of the multitask and therefore can insult the pirate and save their lives at the same time. And if she condenses all her frustrations thus far down into Juno's most insulting slight against her, it'd be the fact that she couldn't be bothered to commit her name to memory.) "You got it, capn' Junonia!"
Lettie gets to work with the mirror, making a mental note of the existence of a gym on board to examine in case they live through this, and aligns the mirror so the red eyes above them appear in the reflection. Chewing at her bottom lip, the way she always does when she concentrates (geez, she'd have popped a piece of gum time wasn't slipping through their fingers!) she fastens her goggles over her eyes and kneels before the mirror so she's covering the bottom half and the eyes are still in the top. (Also making a mental note to steal this mirror for her bedroom on board. It'll feel better, reflecting art than reflecting Juju and her... uh, stupid buff muscles. Stupid buff muscles, toned and spotlighted as she worked out. Damn, damn, damn. Fuck's sake! Get it together, Letts!)
"Oooh. What are you doing, miss Olette?" Abigail hovers around like a butterfly behind her. But once the faerie tears her fantasies (they aren't fantasies!) to shreds, she ends up in such a zone that she can't hear anything except for her own thoughts, working in overdrive to reach for the glyphs she'll need to pull this off. There's the version of the tech to be considered, the constellation patterns of the glyphs she saw before, the 'great star'... "Will you be giving the sal-u-tation a 'make over', too? I'll suggest yellow. Such a sunny color."
Lettie traces a glyph over the surface of the mirror. Almost, almost. When she finishes, her magic flashes and a glimmering of bluish white light dusts around her face and scatters to the deck in swirling clouds. (Normally she might have basked in the awed gasps behind her, but she's focused now. The second she loses focus it's all over.) Narrowing her eyes, she presses her palms against the cold glass and rakes her fingers inside like claws. They dip through the surface like a pool of water. She presses her eyes shut and opens them again to find herself closer to the eyes in the reflection. Essentially, she's created a make-shift, looking glass simulation of her own. One where her projected self can still fly, one where she can't be killed. (Well, she can. But that's not going to translate to her real body-- which is still sitting on the deck with Juno and the skellies. There, she's still as a statue and the surface of her goggles are glowing and gridded, blocking out the sight of her eyes through the glass. The pirate will probably groan about her being useless or something in the meantime, because that's what it's going to look like on the surface. But whatever! That doesn't fucking matter now. Not like she cares what a stupidly buff pirate thinks.) Anyway, if this simulation version of herself perishes, she'll just wake up in her own body. But in this case, the likelihood is that she'll reappear in her own body and then get fucking exploded when the countdown reaches zero. So, yeah! No pressure, haha.
As nothing more than a flickering of ghostly white faerie-figure in this form, she zips around the glowing grid cast over the walls of the simulation and searches for abnormalities.
Then the countdown jumps down ten seconds. Ten precious seconds gone in a snap! "...Fuck!" The faerie's voice has a funny, echoey quality in this form. It reverberates around her and the walls of her simulation shudder. No. Don't lose focus. Getting desperate, Lettie exhausts more magic and energy by summoning several butterflies to help her cover more ground.
Lettie flies up, up, up to confront the big red eyes in the sky. Well, if nothing else she can distract the thing from swatting at her butterflies, which will cover more ground at a faster rate. When she does, though... she notices the constellations of glyphs shimmering faintly in the darkness, fashioning a big star around the red eyes. And in the center of it all? The point that shimmers the brightly only now that she's notices it, the point they need to be aiming for. Aha! Tried to hide it in plain sight, hm? (Those are the same red eyes of that beast they were fighting before. Will this break through the simulation and also puncture through the creature holding them hostage here? Well, there's only one way to find out. Depends on how hard Juju and her outdated Lady can hit it.) Before Lettie can retreat, though, the thing gives a loud screech and her brain is flooded with imagery.
Beautiful forests, blue skies as far as the eye can see. Snap, snap, snap. The images flash faster than the seconds counting down. A technological utopia, built up in phases before inexplicably descending into ruin, rotting everything that was colorful to pure darkness. Skeletons wrapped in wire and vine. Flat, bare soil reeking of death. Gradually, everything starts to sink underground until it aligns with the reality they're stuck in now. Lettie feels like a fly caught in a web. A fucking fly. She writhes, pulls, pulls-- "Let go of me you fucking--!"
Lettie finally falls back into herself and her body collapses to the deck. She scrambles back up, prying her goggles from her eyes. They're white again. "Juno--" Too fucking preoccupied on surviving now to bother coming up with anything else, "Hit the bastard right between the eyes!"
"Kay, kay." Lettie agrees with two-fingered salute, putting on an impish little smirk. Juniver. Hehe. How's it feel, huh? Should she start making them equally as obnoxious as the ones the pirate gives her, specifically to give her hell in case if they die? Yes, yes she should. The 'Opal' shot her way serves as the perfect incentive to do exactly that. Two can play at this game, missy! (That and this saves precious, precious time in place of the full-blown argument this could easily turn into. Just because priorities need to be adjusted a bit doesn't mean they have to be eliminated entirely, all right? She's a professional in the art of the multitask and therefore can insult the pirate and save their lives at the same time. And if she condenses all her frustrations thus far down into Juno's most insulting slight against her, it'd be the fact that she couldn't be bothered to commit her name to memory.) "You got it, capn' Junonia!"
Lettie gets to work with the mirror, making a mental note of the existence of a gym on board to examine in case they live through this, and aligns the mirror so the red eyes above them appear in the reflection. Chewing at her bottom lip, the way she always does when she concentrates (geez, she'd have popped a piece of gum time wasn't slipping through their fingers!) she fastens her goggles over her eyes and kneels before the mirror so she's covering the bottom half and the eyes are still in the top. (Also making a mental note to steal this mirror for her bedroom on board. It'll feel better, reflecting art than reflecting Juju and her... uh, stupid buff muscles. Stupid buff muscles, toned and spotlighted as she worked out. Damn, damn, damn. Fuck's sake! Get it together, Letts!)
"Oooh. What are you doing, miss Olette?" Abigail hovers around like a butterfly behind her. But once the faerie tears her
Lettie traces a glyph over the surface of the mirror. Almost, almost. When she finishes, her magic flashes and a glimmering of bluish white light dusts around her face and scatters to the deck in swirling clouds. (Normally she might have basked in the awed gasps behind her, but she's focused now. The second she loses focus it's all over.) Narrowing her eyes, she presses her palms against the cold glass and rakes her fingers inside like claws. They dip through the surface like a pool of water. She presses her eyes shut and opens them again to find herself closer to the eyes in the reflection. Essentially, she's created a make-shift, looking glass simulation of her own. One where her projected self can still fly, one where she can't be killed. (Well, she can. But that's not going to translate to her real body-- which is still sitting on the deck with Juno and the skellies. There, she's still as a statue and the surface of her goggles are glowing and gridded, blocking out the sight of her eyes through the glass. The pirate will probably groan about her being useless or something in the meantime, because that's what it's going to look like on the surface. But whatever! That doesn't fucking matter now. Not like she cares what a stupidly buff pirate thinks.) Anyway, if this simulation version of herself perishes, she'll just wake up in her own body. But in this case, the likelihood is that she'll reappear in her own body and then get fucking exploded when the countdown reaches zero. So, yeah! No pressure, haha.
As nothing more than a flickering of ghostly white faerie-figure in this form, she zips around the glowing grid cast over the walls of the simulation and searches for abnormalities.
Then the countdown jumps down ten seconds. Ten precious seconds gone in a snap! "...Fuck!" The faerie's voice has a funny, echoey quality in this form. It reverberates around her and the walls of her simulation shudder. No. Don't lose focus. Getting desperate, Lettie exhausts more magic and energy by summoning several butterflies to help her cover more ground.
Lettie flies up, up, up to confront the big red eyes in the sky. Well, if nothing else she can distract the thing from swatting at her butterflies, which will cover more ground at a faster rate. When she does, though... she notices the constellations of glyphs shimmering faintly in the darkness, fashioning a big star around the red eyes. And in the center of it all? The point that shimmers the brightly only now that she's notices it, the point they need to be aiming for. Aha! Tried to hide it in plain sight, hm? (Those are the same red eyes of that beast they were fighting before. Will this break through the simulation and also puncture through the creature holding them hostage here? Well, there's only one way to find out. Depends on how hard Juju and her outdated Lady can hit it.) Before Lettie can retreat, though, the thing gives a loud screech and her brain is flooded with imagery.
Beautiful forests, blue skies as far as the eye can see. Snap, snap, snap. The images flash faster than the seconds counting down. A technological utopia, built up in phases before inexplicably descending into ruin, rotting everything that was colorful to pure darkness. Skeletons wrapped in wire and vine. Flat, bare soil reeking of death. Gradually, everything starts to sink underground until it aligns with the reality they're stuck in now. Lettie feels like a fly caught in a web. A fucking fly. She writhes, pulls, pulls-- "Let go of me you fucking--!"
Lettie finally falls back into herself and her body collapses to the deck. She scrambles back up, prying her goggles from her eyes. They're white again. "Juno--" Too fucking preoccupied on surviving now to bother coming up with anything else, "Hit the bastard right between the eyes!"