Fantasy DIFFERENT BODIES ⋮ SAME SOUL | ( *starboob && syntra )

Syntra · Aug 13, 2020

Right, right. Of fucking course! Why had she even considered the possibility of Liora helping out? Just another proof of her stupidity, Inna guessed, because pampered princesses didn't peel fucking potatoes. Their hands were a national treasure, you see, and so they had to stay nice and soft! (Nice and soft, just like when she'd gripped her. In that moment, Inna had felt... wanted, almost? Kinda pathetic, but that was her new life now, she supposed. Feasting on scraps of attention, like some fucking stray dog. Wasn't that what her father had called her once, acrually? Okay, no, no, no. Time out! Let's re-direct that anger back to Liora, shall we? Because hating her was familiar-- like a song she had heard thousand times, and thus knew the lyrics better than the fucking singer. The feeling was her home, or what remained of it, and look, maybe she could actually be thankful for her bitchy ways. Without it, would she have remembered who Liora was? What she was? ...perhaps not, and that was kinda disconcerting. Like, what else would she start forgetting? That the goddamn sky was blue, and touching the stove while cooking wasn't a Nobel prize worthy idea? Because that would be on a similar level!)

So, Inna began working on the potatoes. Working, in fact, may have been too tame of a word-- she straight up attacked them with the knife, which may or may not have happened because she imagined them wearing Liora's face. I'll fucking carve that smug expression off, Inna thought, in a manner that was healthy and not at all unhinged. (That was true because she did it, of course, and ten out of ten Innas agreed that everything Inna did was fucking justified, thank you very much. It was the rest of the world that misunderstood! The rest of the world, and especially the piece of shit called Liora. Aaaargh, how she hated her! Her, and her stupidly perfect smile, and also the way she lived rent-free in her head, apparently.)

Well, at least she had fucked off? Silver linings, Inna guessed. Having a semblance of privacy could be nice-- The second she recognized it as an advantage, however, some radar of Liora's must have caught on, because her colleague walked right back. Great, just great. What now, was she going to criticize her peeling technique? ('Jesus Christ, Inna,' the Liora in her head frowned. 'Are you fucking blind? Can't you see how thick the pieces of peel are? We've lost approximately 40% of every fucking potato, you dumbass, and that means you're single-handedly responsible for world hunger!!) And, yeah, maybe she was paranoid, but for a damn good reason. So, not paranoia at all, actually! ...alright, alright. Inna would just ignore her, and everything would be fine. Energy vampires like her thrived on attention, meaning that cutting off her main supply should work well enough! From now on, the blonde would have to become a fucking zen Buddhist. Liora who? Someone totally irrelevant in the face of, uhhh... the grand vastness of the universe? Or something. (Look, she was still new at the rhetoric. Cut her some slack, okay?)

...except that then she handed her a coffee (?), made a face that seemed not totally murderous (??) and said that something that could be interpreted as an apology, maybe (???) Okay, now the world was officially ending! Not that Inna cared, mind you, because it fucking sucked, but still. (How did one even respond to such a speech? People didn't apologize to Inna. Like, was there a protocol for these things? A list of acceptable responses, perhaps? Also, more importantly, was Liora going to add 'just kidding' after a few seconds and then laugh at her for being stupid enough to believe it? Which was a distinct possibility! ...especially since, you know, something in her wanted to believe her-- desperately and eagerly, just like a kid who had convinced themselves mommy was only sleeping on that hospital bed.)

"I don't like cream, anyway," Inna said, because that was safe. "Thanks." That, too. Basic fucking manners, right? (She couldn't hide behind safe topics forever, though. ...or could she? Hmmm!) Meanwhile, her hands worked, swiftly and automatically-- the potatoes transformed into a dough-y substance under her care, and soon enough, she was looking for a frying pan. "Well, I mean. Didn't want to underestimate your creativity, you see? I'm sure you could come up with a bullshit enough interpretation if you tried. Dunno, maybe something about me using unnecessarily lethal force," Inna did the air quotes with her fingers, "just to ensure you wouldn't get your fucking lunch." The words were accusatory, no doubt about it, but her tone? It was lighter than it had any right to be, really, and almost made it sound like a joke. (Inna's brand of olive branch. Take it or leave it, bitch!)

"So, I guess we're doing this," the blonde muttered as she put the first batch of dough into the hot oil. It sizzled violently, though she didn't flinch-- the recent experiences had caused her to be, uhh, unafraid of fire. "Saving the world, or something. How do you like it so far?" ...ouch, awkward! But hey, Inna really had no idea what to say. (There had been ten thousand insults on her tongue, as hot and searing as her own flames, and suddenly, poof! Gone, within the blink of an eye. The issue with that, though? Nothing fucking replaced it! Nothing but hesitance, and this strange feeling Inna refused to name. Naming things meant wanting to keep them, right? And she-- well, she didn't know.)

starboob · Aug 14, 2020

☉ LIORA TRINH ☉

This is awkward. None of this feels right to her, but that is also because what had felt right before mainly involved tearing Inna down and never giving her the satisfaction of knowing just what she did appreciate about the other. So this truce feels fragile as a result of her own dis-ease and, honestly, who knows how long this will last––either until their exhaustion lifts its trick veil or maybe this is them both turning a new leaf. (The latter is highly doubtful, unfortunately). Her fingers snake around her mug and she pulls it close to her body for comfort.

It takes energy to hear Inna's retort with some level of coolness, because she does want to react and defend herself––to say something like she's not that unreasonable, but even she knows that's not true. There is also something different about the blonde's tone in that it barks more than it bites (barely). "You are (or were) a killer for the mafia. I'm not stupid enough to think using unnecessary lethal force is outside of your modus operandi," she shoots back. But just like Inna, while something she would say normally her tone entirely changes the attack. Because it goes from attack to banter, letting Inna's comment bounce off her without having much effect. It feels... nice, she decides, even if it's new and she is suspicious of the ease.

She watches as Inna's cooks, her own stomach grumbling as the smell of fried potatoes fills the room (a heavenly scent, truly). 'Do I say thank you?' she wonders. 'No, I don't think that's necessary.' Thank yous should be reserved for more noteworthy tasks. Like saving her life and protecting her from being burned alive. Though she remembers that particular thank you had translated as a shove earlier and where logic dictates she should apologize (again), she also thinks it's too late to go back to that moment. It's too far in the past.

"I suppose we are," she agrees, still uncertain how she feels about it and at the same time grateful that Inna is bringing up the topic. It is something she has been desperate to talk about but Liora lacks the tools to not be awkward with her desires and stifles them instead. She pushes off from the counter and goes to the cabinet where she had seen some plates, then grabs some utensils and sets them next to Inna. Her eyes catch on her forearm, watching the muscles move even if just to flip the patties. She does not spend time investigating what comes up for her there but it's enough that she looks away hurriedly and hops onto the counter to sit (it's a kitchen––not many seats available; her inner mother can chill with reading her the riot act). "The magic powers are neat––but it just seems like a big thing for the world to not know about," she pauses then adds, "I just don't get how it's real." It feels good to admit that, but she feels stupid for it anyway. For naming any of this even if it is what she wants. 'Why is this all so fucking confusing?'

"I wonder who in the Universe, or wherever, fucked up their job so badly that they picked us to save the world." It's said flatly, but it is a joke nonetheless. Honestly, if the magic talking book hadn't given her visions that affected her on a visceral level? She probably would have laughed and continued about her life––aimlessly trying to climb new mountains in order to feel like she could ever be enough.

Syntra · Aug 15, 2020

Frankly? Inna expected Liora to throw the olive branch away. Actually, no, that would have been too tame for the other woman-- more than likely, she'd spit on it first, curse her mother for bringing her stupid ass in this stupid world, and then proceed to jab it right into her fucking eye. Yup, that checked out! So, naturally, the blonde was wary. If you looked closely enough, you could spot the tension in her shoulders, the firmness of the line her lips had formed, and-- huh. Hesitance, maybe? (Pffft, as if! Inna Orlovskaya was way too badass for teenage angst, and so she simply didn't do it. RIP to other people, but she was different. Who even needed the approval of your peers when you could approve of yourself on your own? Oh yeah, Inna was Inna's greatest fan, bitch! Real convenient, considering that only her opinion mattered. Liora, the dumbass extraordinaire, could think whatever she wanted-- it didn't concern her at all. If anything, her bitchy ways would probably lead to yet another argument, and that would be pretty damn amazing, actually. Everyone knew that antagonizing Liora was her greatest hobby, right? So, naturally, she was positively thrilled by the prospect. Just, hahaha! Couldn't wait to have her self-esteem flattened once again, really. What do you mean, it wasn't fun? Inna was fucking d y i n g from laughter, just like the god intended. Enemies didn't whine about such things, and that was all they would ever be.)

Except that... Liora agreed? Agreed, without insulting her in the process? Wow. If the blonde didn't know her colleague any better, she'd say this was dangerously close to a polite conversation! (A trap, that was what it was-- she didn't doubt it for a second. Liora was a fucking snake, and thus probably planning to sink her fangs into her the second she averted her gaze. In that case, though? The joke was on her! Because Inna, you see, never, ever wanted to look away. ...for some mysterious reason. Stop fucking interrogating her, okay?)

"Well," she shrugged, "I dunno about you, but I know shit about many important things. Like, nuclear energy may as well be fucking magic, too, as far as I'm concerned. Not much functional difference, is there?" Aside from all those pretty meaningful differences, such as smart people in lab coats being able to explain those, but who cared? From the Inna-centric point of view, the analogy totally worked! "Besides, I kinda think it's better for them not to know," the blonde reasoned. "I'm pretty fucking sure I would prefer not knowing a kraken-ass motherfucker could sink the ship I'm on at any given moment just because her Alzheimer's is acting up. Sleep would come more easily to me." ...wow. A moment of genuine vulnerability, by hers truly? More likely than you thought, apparently! (Immediately, regret settled in her chest. Like, great job in handing Liora more ammo! As if she fucking needed it.)

Still, Inna couldn't help but chuckle at her next comment. "Maybe we're not the only ones. Like, maybe the god or whatever is fucked, and so he's handing out superpowers to anyone even mildly eligible. An eighty year old grandmother? Lots of experience, might work. A kindergartener? Yeah, why not, kids save the day all the time in movies. Someone's dog? Sure, a good boy like him would know exactly what to do! When we arrive, the temple's gonna be full of Chosen Ones, and we're gonna have a fucking Battle Royale over who gets to save the earth." Okay, the blonde may have been joking, but that didn't mean anything. Unlike certain people, she liked having fun, you see, and Liora just so happened to witness her amusing herself. It had nothing to do with some pathetic attempt to make her partner laugh, alright?! (...please, smile, some traitorous part of her thought, though it hardly counted because Inna straight up murdered it. Man, was dealing with these impulses easy! Therapists were just fucking drama queens-- emotional trauma this, long-term consequences that. Like, some people had actual jobs, Karen. A trust fund kiddie might have the time to cry over these things, but not Inna!)

"Almost done," she announced to Liora before taking a sip from her cup. (Bitter, and thus good enough. Only weak motherfuckers sweetened their coffee, anyway-- you know, the types who liked talking about their feelings and such. Eww!) "Anyway, did you understand what Miss Tentacles was talking about? Regarding the Vie and Ivy shit, I mean."

starboob · Aug 15, 2020

☉ LIORA TRINH ☉

Any second now Liora would return from her mental vacation and be restored to her prior self; she would retire the miniature human that is operating inside of her head and allow for the bitch demon to take over once more. That homunculi would save her from this. Although, what does she want to be saved from? This actually feels nice. It's not like Liora has a long list of friends she can call up, flip on her stomach with her legs doing little kicks in the air, and gab about her latest adventure. Even if her life hadn't become something out of young adult novel, her list of friends is short (non-existent). Her awkwardness stems from a distinct lack of experience.

"That's a bad analogy––nuclear fission isn't even that hard to understand," she says, with a little of her usual bite but the topic is so far removed from either of them that it is hardly anything of note. "It's literally just splitting unstable atoms and creating energy." Obviously, she knows there is more to it than that but the point is the same. "This," she snaps her fingers, somehow knowing it would create a brief and bright flash, "Is something out of Buffy the Vampire Slayer." She realizes that isn't even the point Inna had been trying to make, but it's easier to focus on that than to take in her vulnerability. She feels it too, obviously. It's hard to not be terrified over the events last few days––even the last hour. In the moment it's easy for Liora to bury all of that. Survival is easy enough to focus on and she's always been a fighter. Once the stage is cleared, though? Well, last night's sleep had only come because of alcohol. The prior night because Inna had suffocated her into slumber. Tonight? She expects to see the sunrise.

So she pockets Inna's vulnerability and does not share her own. There isn't enough in her that says it's okay for her to sit with the blonde in mutual despair. Admittedly, it is hard to see this small sliver of Inna that she hadn't known existed––mostly because she does regards Inna as brave and untouchable. That alone should have been the permission she needed to say, 'Me too. I'm scared too.' But the words are emptied into a grave instead.

It doesn't matter, either, because Inna is rambling on about something else now and it clicks for Liora that this? All this humor and convoluted explanations is just who Inna is––she doesn't do it to be purposefully irritating; she sees this now that they've both temporarily lowered some of their walls. This is just one of her quirks and? It is starting to grow on her. Still, she doesn't give much response to the hypothesis, but she also doesn't roll her eyes or shut it down. "Do you think they've all received their swords? Or are ours the one of kind type for the real ones?" Her brow lifts, deciding to continue down the line of thought since Inna had worked so hard on it (well, Liora assumes it must have been work since her very rational, logical mind would never jump to any of those points on its own accord).

Then Inna asks her that last question. Everything in her retreats and she feels suddenly cold. Like ice is creeping slowly down from the top of her head down through the rest of her body. Guilt settles where her stomach should be and she does not know where it is coming from. She does look upset, in a classic and expected way too––features contorted as if the names were offensive to her (a look she's given Inna on several occasions). "No," she says firmly, but it's not entirely true and maybe that shows in her eyes. There is a hypothesis formulating inside of her––related to the familiar women they had seen in visions, who even they identified as themselves even if they couldn't explain it with reason. The thought started to come together when she found herself actually responding to Vie each time the monstress called it. "Those names are stupid," she mumbles. "It's like you said, that sea-bitch had Alzheimers––all those monsters are usually really ancient anyway." Quickly, suspiciously even, she redirects the topic. "Do you think the swords get bigger?"

Syntra · Aug 16, 2020

"Blah, blah, blah," Inna rolled her eyes. Did it surprise her that Liora seemed to have a passion for lecturing her? No, not really. That was about as shocking as the revelation that bullets, in fact, hurt people when fired from a gun, or that touching a hot stove wasn't the greatest idea ever. Yeah, yeah, big deal, Liora did Liora-ish things. As the old adage said: bitches gonna bitch! (...still, though, it kinda bothered her that the other woman thought her to be stupid. Not because her opinion mattered or anything silly like that, of course-- obviously, it was because Inna was a fucking warrior for the truth and those accusations were filthy lies, god dammit. Just, being a slacker didn't equate to being dumb!! If you thought about it, the blonde actually had to be smarter than the average fucker. How else would she have been able to dodge all of her responsibilities, huh? Checkmate, atheists!)

"What do you think I am, a mentally stunted dachshund? Like, of fucking course I know the official definition. What does it mean, though?" Inna turned around and shot Liora a stare-- a stare that was... actually inquisitive? Inquisitive, and entirely free of malice. "How do you even split an atom? Because I kinda doubt that you just grab it and beat it with a hammer. Nah, that's not what all those fancy fucking factories are for. So, can you explain how it actually happens?" the blonde put her hand on her hip. "And can you explain why it produces energy in the first place, huh? 'Cause if not, then I've got some news for you, Little Miss I-Know-Everything: you don't understand it for shit, either. Welcome to the Planet Dumbass, I guess!" The words were combative, but again, her tone wasn't-- and, privately, Inna also filed away the knowledge that Liora had watched Buffy, The Vampire Slayer. (Only as a piece of evidence, of course! Because her mind was meant for storing Important Info exclusively, thank you very much. So, yeah, evidence. Evidence supporting the fringe theory that she, uhhh, may actually be human? Well, either that, or a very amused vampire who liked it ironically.)

Now, Liora as a vampire, though... Involuntarily, her mind was filled with images of the other woman caressing her neck, and whispering something seductive into her ear because that was what vampires always did in fiction for some reason, and... uh, okay. Okay. Inna would save that fantasy for later, so that she could analyse it properly. Probably at night, when there were no other things to think about? Because, you know, her brain required constant intellectual stimulation and such. Haha!

"Swords are a main character thing," Inna replied without thinking, her cheeks stained crimson for some reason, "so no, they can't fucking have them. If they do turn up with swords, I'll sue for emotional damages!" And, yeah, maybe she was playing her clown persona up, but so what? Liora appeared unusually chill, and her inner researcher wanted to see how far the rabbit hole went. Like, how accurately could she impersonate normal human behavior? Could she even smile? Inna had to know, because... uhh, someone had to assess the level of danger humanity was in! And, clearly, she was the Byronic hero in charge of the task. "Then again, I suppose that if these things worked, Chett would have sued for the emotional damage of having to wear his face ages ago, soooo..."

Okay, okay. Abort mission, Inna thought when Liora reacted Like That, suddenly all cold and distant. Just, Jesus Christ. Why did this suddenly feel like traversing a minefield, huh? It had been an innocent fucking question! No question had ever killed anyone-- well, maybe aside from questions like 'wanna get killed?' but those weren't all that common. "I guess," Inna said, welcoming the change of topic as much as Liora did.

"Anyway, it's done!" the blonde announced triumphantly as she put the pancakes on two plates. (The scent? It was fucking mouth-watering, alright, and Inna realized just now she was actually starving. Adrenaline really did funny things to you!) "So," she said, her tone suddenly very serious, "this is an ancient recipe, actually. It has been passed down in my family for fucking centuries, mother to daughter. Just saying this to warn you that if you don't like it, I'll have to drown you in vodka. My Russian ancestry demands it!"

starboob · Aug 17, 2020

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉

She rolls her eyes when Inna starts waving her off, because she isn't going to admit that Inna is making a point. It's not that her ego can't handle that (except that it can't), but she doesn't think the blonde's ego needs it. Or she refuses to give her the satisfaction, because Liora doesn't make a habit of admitting when she's wrong. It is one of her many talents and charming traits.

However, she is not entirely cruel and she does make some minor edits and tweaks to Inna's claim. "I don't think you're a mentally stunted dachshund––not sure where you got that idea," she says with no hint of irony. (Like none.) If Liora actually thought that little of Inna, she would have fought Chett on his instance that they work together instead of merely accepting her fate as she had. "I think you just make some really fucking poor decisions is all." While these are genuine comments and judgments, she says them in a matter-of-fact manner as if she had spent a lot of time and care coming to this conclusion (because she had). "But I guess... If I'm on Planet Dumbass, would you, the humble queen, give me the tour?" Her head tilts to the side and the smallest, microscopic smile makes an appearance and it mainly shows in her eyes and the slight pull in her cheeks.

"Well, have fun dealing with lawyers––they're so boring and surprisingly unambitious," she dated one once, in college, "––I'd rather skip the headache and give them a headache," she says, mimicking a sword arcing motion with her arm and just barely grazing Inna with the air-strike. This is a joke that makes her smile (her own). Though she, of course, doesn't realize the other is trying to get her to laugh or even that she is being goaded into bringing out this childish portion of her personality (childish in that it's not at all serious––she'll blame the exhaustion if asked). "I really don't spend much time thinking of Chett's face." In fact, she mostly did not think of him at all. "But I have thought about his head on a stake," her tone is surprisingly nonchalant and, at the same time, serious. "He's probably the worst boss I've ever had." No vacation or time off––just praying for a break between assignments? It got exhausting––but that's what happens when every other member of the mafia seems to have a severe case of brain worms leaving only a handful of competent contracts. At least it paid the bills and had been more fulfilling than her previous gig.

Her plate is filled and she doesn't even wait for Inna or pay much attention to what she is saying, because she has been starving since they woke up and having to fight a boss battle before breakfast? While battling a hangover? It had not been her most ideal morning (at least they're alive, right?). Anyway, the fork is full of potato and she fills her cheeks, relishing in the extra depth of flavor added by not waiting a five minute cooling period. It's hard to mess up fried food let alone fried potatoes, and this? Yeah, it might as well be the best bite she has ever had and, yes, she moans as she swallows the first bite and eagerly cleans up the rest. "What'd you say?" She says after sweeping up the last bite; it's fair enough to say that she had enjoyed the meal given how enthusiastically she ate and how quiet she became during those five minutes. There would be no need to drown her in vodka.

She rests her hand over her stomach, letting the food settle and slowly rejuvenate her tired body which does ache. After a few minutes, she gets up from her seat on the countertop and begins to walk over to the door––intent on locating a first-aid kit. However, just as she is halfway across the kitchen she remembers her companion and while she normally would walk off to do her own thing, completely ignoring the blonde, that seems rude now (and for some reason she cares about that). There's also this other part of her that doesn't want to leave Inna's side––especially since another challenger could arrive at any second. It would be irresponsible to abandon her. Plus, logistically, she is (or seems) further along in the development of her abilities and it would better to have her close by. The numbers being the most important thing to consider here––not feelings or anything alien like that. "Not sure if you got healing powers," she does not remember specifically healing Inna the previous night (something else surrounds that memory that is more powerful than recalling she can heal), "But I was going to try and find a first-aid kit. Come with?" It's the same tone a school friend might use to ask her classmate to accompany her to the bathroom (not that Liora ever did that––that always seemed silly).

Syntra · Aug 18, 2020

The smile, of course, didn't obliterate her. Like, haha, dream on, Liora! Inna was a big girl, she was wearing her big girl pants and something as mundane as her colleague's lips twitching slightly didn't even register on her fucking radar. She didn't do this teenage shit anymore, you see? You could even say that 'maturity' was her second name!! So, obviously, her own dumb smile was a fucking coincidence. (...Inna just happened to like smiling, okay?! She wouldn't deprive herself of the precious, precious endorphins just to escape the suspicion that she was smiling in response to Liora, or something. Nah, mate. Being able to ignore peer pressure in favor of ~self-care~ was part of being a well-adjusted goddamn adult, which Inna very much was!) "Hmmm," the blonde grinned, playful sparks in her eyes, "maybe. What will I get in return, though? Like, by this point, you should know I'm no fucking charity. So, my princess?" ...umm. 'My' princess? Where had that come from? Because that little world made it sound... well, not like a joke, and the very concept of Not Joking kinda terrified her. Especially in this goddamn context!

Thankfully, though, there were other topics to pursue, and hey, avoidance also happened to be her best skill! So, uh, if Inna threw more words at her, maybe Liora would forget that little detail? Like a goldfish! (A goldfish with some surprisingly kissable lips, and hips that made her think of-- um. Of totally sfw things, because she was a Good Christian Girl. A Good Christian Girl who sometimes enjoyed murder, but let him who is without sin cast the first stone! ...or something.) "Yeah, Chett is the worst. Seriously, I think that if he decided to commit suicide, it would be his greatest contribution to the society so far. Stupid fucking bitch. Once, I accidentally broke his glasses, and the idiot genuinely thought it was a sign of some rebellion brewing. He shot some poor fucker because of it." ...okay, Inna may have been altering the reality here a little bit, but wasn't that what all great artists did? Besides, even if Chett hadn't really done that, the blonde knew he would have enjoyed it, and there was hardly any difference between the two. Like, everyone knew you were your darkest desires!

Then it was time to eat her meal, and yeah, it really tasted as good as it smelled. Even better, actually, because the crispy feel in your mouth? You couldn't exactly smell that! So, that meant that basing your estimates on your nose alone robbed you of at least 50% of the awesomeness. (And also, Liora's reaction? The moaning was... interesting, at least if you researched alien life forms like Inna did. She would have to analyse that later as well, along with her vampire fanta-- theory. It was a fucking theory, god fucking dammit! ...anyway, if nothing else, Inna had to admit Liora couldn't be a complete bitch. The potato pancake test revealed one's character, you see, and if she liked it, her heart couldn't be completely blackened!)

Anyway, when Liora suggested finding a first aid kit, Inna tagged along-- because, duh, what else was she supposed to do? Stare at the sea? Wow, much blue, very fascinating. (But no, really. Was she missing something here, or had the rest of humanity conspired against her specifically and invented the obsession just to confuse her? Because it was just a lot of water, literally. Like??? What was the big deal, chief?) When they succeeded, Inna chugged a week's worth of painkillers and then... well, then it was the time to go to sleep, obviously. (They may have been lost on the sea, and none of them knew how to drive a ship, but hey! Priorities, right? Plus, none of that would fucking change if they worried themselves to death, anyway. Like, if Inna had to kick the bucket, she would rather do so well-rested! You know, so that she'd have the energy to break the god's goddamn nose.)

"So, not sure about you," Inna said, "but I could sleep for fucking weeks. Wanna sleep with me?" ...uh oh. That sounded kind of bad, didn't it? Bad as in open up to some wild interpretations. "For strategic reasons," the blonde added quickly. "Like, what if some arcane horror appears and teleports me into another fucking dimension? You probably wouldn't want to miss that."

starboob · Aug 19, 2020

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉

"I'm not a fucking princess," is her response––just shy of the exclamation point that would have welcomed the return of the good ol' Liora. However, her tone is only firm. Though her words? Interesting that she chooses to focus on the honorific that sends heat through her and not, say, the fact that Inna had claimed her as her own. Her princess. Somehow, she is not going to address that––it doesn't even cross her mind to question that, mostly because it's too dangerous to think about. It feels threatening.

After that, she starts to pull inward. Starting to feel the intimacy delving past the superficial and going to the deeper parts of Liora that she just does not understand. That confuse her. That feel whimsical and light and freeing? Maybe that should have been exciting to her, but the chains she has bound herself in feel warm with her own heat that at this point she doesn't recognize them as suffocating or heavy. She isn't meaning to seem aloof (this time), but she is not really in the same room as Inna anymore (mentally).

Wordlessly, as they go through the first-aid supplies and assess injuries, she pulls her shirt up to examine the sore spots (she sees no reason to be modest––Ivy has seen her like this before). Mostly, the scrapes and cuts are minimal and there are more bruises than anything else (weird puckered ones too from the tentacles). She decides to go with a treatment plan similar to Inna's and somehow manages to pointedly swallow the recommended dose for adults her age and then pulls her shirt back on. (Wait, did she refer to Inna as Ivy earlier? And did her brain suggest to her that Ivy/Inna/whoever had seen her topless before? 'What the fuck...')

Then Inna propositions her? That does pull her from her thoughts quite effectively and the look on her face, thankfully is not of disgust, but surprise until the blonde clarifies her statement. She settles on an unimpressed look. "What? Are you scared to sleep by yourself?" She asks, in a tone that is a bit too close to some classic Liora tones, the friendliness from earlier seeming to wear off as the day continues into night. It's not that she had used up all her energy reserves dedicated to being cordial just that she smacked hard into a barrier she could not explore and her walls are starting to come back up.

However, after she lets go of her initial reaction and as she thinks about it more, she does see Inna's point. Especially considering that, apparently, at any moment another challenger may arise. (It would have been helpful if they had been given a bracket sheet of bosses they would have to fight, their stats, and the fight schedule, but apparently that is too much to ask. Much to the displeasure of Liora, who likes to be (over)prepared.) So it would at least be better to sleep in the same room––the data speaks for itself and she trusts the numbers. "Fine, sure––" the voice is coming out again, the mean biting one with dragon's spit; she pauses and swallows it. "––I don't think I could do this on my own," she admits, though she keeps to herself, '––without you.' An addition that annoys her because she doesn't and she doesn't know why her brain is making edits without her permission. One of these might slip and then what? Inna would know just how pathetic she is––needing another person and not able to stand on her own. She couldn't have that. She wouldn't. She just needed to get over whatever weakness in her that is desperate for deep connection, yearns for it, and even sees potential for it in her companion. But giving over to that and actually trusting Inna? (She wants to.) She needs to re-examine her creed, because 'Trust no bitch' is apparently becoming hard to remember.

Below deck, they find an empty cabin––a bigger one than they had been in previously with a single double bed; Liora has a momentarily battle with herself before she shrugs and figures she can start re-examining her creed tomorrow. Something about the reset of a new day. She flips herself onto the bed, quietly hopes that Inna will embrace her again, and waits for sleep to come should it come to her at all.

(It does... and fills her with dreams that begin to fill the gaps in her memory.)

.............

This time, when she stirs and begins to wake up (her internal clock set to 6AM), she finds it difficult to want to get up. Usually, she wouldn't waste time just idling in bed when she could be getting ready and using each second of her wakefulness with disciplined purpose, but her shoulders, along with the rest of her body, ache. Inna's arm is also around her waist again and she is not resisting it. Just a few more minutes then she'll rise. Instead of waking up her colleague by shoving her out of bed, she actually doesn't wake her up at all. She just removes her arm and slips out of the bed into the bathroom to get ready.

Bored by the first of her two minute tooth brushing routine, the swords hanging on the coatrack catches her eye and she walks out, toothbrush hanging from her mouth. Somewhat like a kid after Christmas, excited to play with new toys, she reaches for her own, unsheathes it, and inspects it. She looks over her shoulder to see if Inna is awake and believing she isn't being watched, she swings the sword a few times through the air. White wisps start to gather around sword, giving it a glow and on her next slice, the vision of the temple flashes through her mind (almost being pushed forward by a ghost), and the edge of her sword catches on––well, nothing she can describe but it catches on something invisible in the air. As she brings it down to the floor, a portal begins to open in the middle of the cabin. The toothbrush drops from her mouth. She swallows (against the warnings on the toothpaste label), wipes the foam from her face, and quietly, but also somehow loudly, whispers, "Inna!"

Syntra · Aug 20, 2020

Ah, okay. Okay, so that was how this was! Liora wasn't a vampire or a cyborg, or anything mysterious like that. No, the truth was much more mundane. So, ready for the grand fucking reveal? For the results of her meticulous research, sponsored by nobody because people hated real science? Fine, here you go: she was an anthropomorphized teleshopping spot. Now, maybe this sounded crazy to you, but that was only true because you were a small-minded fuck. Like, Fleming had probably looked pretty damn unhinged to his contemporaries as well when he had devised strategy of chugging literal mold! So, shut up and think about it, would you? Because the signs were all fucking there. Liora was pretty-- just like commercials designed to capture your attention. She could present herself in a positive light-- like a product to be bought, 100% organic and shit. When you actually bought the product, though? (Or, in Liora's case, started believing she wouldn't be a total pain in the ass?) It fucking fucked you over, so check, check and check! Seriously, it made sense. A lot of sense, even. Inna had always known human greed would lead to something terrible, and the crooks' collective desire to sell useless shit to decent people accidentally created this-- this goddamn demon. Well, it was a good thing she had seen through this ruse! Because, yeah, there was zero chance she would fall for it again now. Inna fucking locked her heart, and threw away the goddamn key. So, bye bye, feelings! (Feelings that had never existed and would never exist, thank you very much. Got any evidence that would support a different hypothesis? No? Then fuck right off, bitch.)

At any rate dealing with Miss Kraken had left her with little energy, so Inna drifted off easily. The night had been quiet, and blessedly free of dreams-- which, good. (Lately, most of her dreams had revolved around fire, and let me tell you, that shit wasn't fun. Blah, blah, blah, human flesh burning, blah, blah, blah, suffocating from smoke. Like, how original! Couldn't her dumbass brain come up with something more pleasant? A holiday in France, maybe? Not that Inna respected the snail eaters in any measure, but if she had to pick between the hellscape of scorched earth and listening to the disgusting sounds they dared to call 'language,' Eiffel tower-land suddenly didn't seem that bad. Because, you know, ear plugs were a thing!)

Normally, Inna would have slept till the fucking noon-- since she deserved it, for one, and also because waking up with the sunrise was a barbaric custom carried over from the times of serfdom. Progress, baby! Sadly, though, the world wasn't prepared for such a radical idea. The world and Liora, who acted as its malevolent, malevolent agent. "...bitch," Inna muttered under her breath, her eyes still tired and unseeing. "I fucking swear, if you're waking me up because I exceeded the recommended eight hours of sleep, I'm gonna--"

What exactly Inna was going to do, however? That they'd never find out, mostly because the portal grew bigger and bigger, along with its gravitational field, apparently, and, whoopsie! Yup, it sucked them in. (Which, fucking rude. Like, couldn't it have given them a heads up? The blonde only really managed to grab her sword because she had put it under her pillow last night, god dammit! If this trend went on, Fate was on its way to earning a worse employer rating from her than Chett, which was saying something. You know, the guy whose favorite way of terminating your contract was a bullet in your motherfucking brain? Yeah, that guy.)

There was a weird feeling in the area of her stomach, and once again, Inna wondered whether she'd throw up. (That seemed to be one of the new constants in her life, really-- hating Liora, discovering new, fun ways to die, and throwing up from it all. Wow, thank you, Santa Claus! Her Christmas wish of 'more excitement' really had come true. ...now, did the fucker do refunds?)

Inna's stomach turned out to be the real MVP, though, because it held its dinner. The blonde herself, on the other hand? She almost lost her shit! They landed in a building made of white marble, with a high ceiling and those fancy, ancient-looking pillars, which-- yeah, ooookay. Okay, okay! The temple from their vision, doubtlessly. (Fate really didn't fuck around, did it? One would have thought they deserved five seconds of peace after destroying Betentacled Horror, but no, apparently. Instead, it was work, work, work, more work, and, in case you thought this wasn't monothematic enough, work again! ...no wonder so many heroes joined the dark side, really.)

"Tell me I'm fucking dreaming," Inna whispered to Liora, crouching behind one of the pillars. It was a good thing she had followed that instinct, too, because, guess what happened immediately after that? Chett! Fucking Chett and his lackeys, just like what the vision had shown them earlier. (Top notch predictive skills, Inna had to admit. Where was this energy with weather forecasts?) The merry band of cretins seemed to be heading to the altar standing in the middle of the room, which... huh. How did she even know it was an altar? The thing in the center was a statue of some-- some animal-looking bullshit. A wolf, perhaps? (A wolf on steroids, whose fangs were shadows and claws fear. It sang of blood, too, in her head at least-- she could fucking see it move, even if its stone face remained... well, stoney. Uh oh.)

Two of the gorillas were dragging a girl towards the statue-- she was hanging between them, more or less, and had all the agency of a sack of potatoes. "Please," she sobbed, her face wet from tears. "Please, let me go!"

"Oh, but I will," Chett smiled sweetly, in this 'you-owe-me-money-and-I-know-how-to-get-it-back' way. Wow. Has his face always been this breakable? "Soon enough, my dear. First, though, you need to bleed a little, to open the gate for me. That's what keys are for, don't you think?"

starboob · Aug 21, 2020

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉

If this is how Inna wants to start their day then fine! Liora is more than happy to to partake in the bitch-fest. Even if this is normal behavior for them and even a normal reaction for someone who has been woken up when they are not ready, she hasn't considered that––since she had already been up and going about her day. Not that she should be focusing on her hurt (?) feelings, since they are, you know, teleporting to their next assignment. (If the mornings keep starting like this... Like is she going to have to transition from coffee to caffeine pills just to keep up with the Universe's fucked up sense of urgency? (Honestly, if she remembers correctly most people who save the world in fiction are much younger than either of them so it feels as though the Universe procrastinated on handing out the assignment and is now punishing them for it!) She might start listening the next time Inna starts suggesting they fuck these pre-destined responsibilities.)

So they're dumped into the hall of an ancient Italian temple and Liora scrambles to follow Inna behind one of the columns. Peering around its corner, her eyes go wide as the vision they had seen earlier comes to life in near perfect detail. (Okay, apparently when in Rome you slay your former boss who actually is evil.) "I’m happy to pinch you if you want, but this is fucking real." Her eyes scope around the room and she mostly ignores the statue that seems like its just waiting to spring to life. Mainly, because she is really hoping that it doesn't spring to life. Somehow, though, it's not that hard to figure out that it is the reason why they are at the site. "Oh, fuck me if we have to kill that––please let it just be Chett."

As the girl is dragged into view, Liora's heart twists in her chest (yes, she has one, contrary to popular belief). She's brought up to the sacrificial altar and the woman can practically feel and taste the fear wafting from her––not that it inspires a similar feeling in her. No, quite the opposite. It makes her angry and hot and whatever earlier resentment she had felt about the blonde immediately disappears; she grabs Inna's arm as if that could contain or even communicate the fury she feels. "Inna," she says, snapping her attention away from the sacrifice about to take place to look at her. And when she does, she's actually looking at other woman as if she is taking her seriously as an actual person, actually seeing her; she is not, for once, looking at her as if she were the dirt on her brand new white sneakers. "We can't let her blood spill." Then, recalling that this ends with heads rolling if they aren't successful, “If anyone's getting their head chopped off it's Chett––and we do it together, agreed?" This is as good a time as any to make sure they're on the same page about that detail as she also recalls they've both made some not-so-joking jokes about causing their former employer bodily harm.

"So, do you wanna be the distraction and take out the bad guys or be the hero and save the girl?" She asks. Though before their roles can be decided on, a large hand lands on her shoulder and pulls her out into the hallway (she suspects another hand had grabbed Inna too). So while that would have been a fine half-baked plan to attempt, she's being dragged towards their former boss who looks... Ugly as per usual. It's hard to get a read on him outside of that. 'Jesus fucking Christ can, like, one thing just go right for once!'

"Why hello, ladies. Did you bring the tome, as per your last assignment?”

Syntra · Aug 23, 2020

At this point, the hand grab didn't surprise Inna. This was a classic Liora move, you see? To demand this-- this casual intimacy from her, and then throw it away the second she began to think it might actually mean something. Just, haha! Fuck Inna's feelings, right? Her heart existed to be stepped on, and Liora, as the good fucking samaritan, was even doing it for free. How very thoughtful of her! Perhaps, if Inna got especially lucky, her colleague would also throw in a free knife in her back. Still, despite the string of bitter thoughts, the blonde squeezed her hand right back-- the gesture was automatic and thoughtless, and thus meant nothing. (Wanting to comfort her in these trying times? Pffft, don't make Inna laugh! No, this was, uhhh... a lizard brain thing. Or a mammal brain thing? Mammals were way too fixated on physical contact for their own good, so this was actually a very scripted and very unromantic response. Kind of like blinking when a fly got too close to your eye, or stealing someone's credit card info when they flaunted it in public. You know, the basic traits imprinted into the collective subconsciousness of humanity by their hunter-gatherer ancestors!)

"Yeah, yeah," Inna whispered, "I get it, no need to campaign further. I'm in." And, for some motherfucking reason, it was true. (Possibly because everyone else was so unreasonable about this? As in, Inna sincerely doubted she could just emerge from her hiding spot behind the column, raise her hands into the air and be like: 'Whoops, don't mind me! Just got teleported here by some nasty cosmic power whirlwind, against my fucking consent. Crazy, right? Gotta figure out who I should sue around here. Anyway, feel free to carry on, my fellow kings and queens! I didn't see anything suspicious, I swear.' In an ideal world, this would have worked-- since, you know, communication, compromise and all those buzzwords their society had supposedly been built around. In theory, this sounded pretty fucking awesome. Sadly, this world very much wasn't ideal-- as evidenced by the fact that Chett hadn't been shot five seconds after being born for violating the sacred laws of aesthetic. So, no, Inna had to work with what she had. (And that she only really had Liora? That was disconcerting, really-- kinda like going on a vacation to a foreign country and finding out you had forgotten to pack any underwear. Then again, the ghost of your missing panties couldn't strangle you in your sleep, so Inna figured a new analogy was needed after all. Maybe something like playing a Russian roulette with its cylinder fucking full? Yeah, that checked out!)

"Does someone have to be a distraction?" the blonde frowned. "I mean, I could just set something on fire from here and then we'd grab the girl as the idiots panic and try to figure out what even happened." Because, yeah, Inna wasn't too eager to place herself on the front lines when she didn't fucking have to. Like??? Superpowers were supposed to be her promotion from the redshirt status, dammit, and, no, she didn't care in the slightest that this wasn't fair. You know what else wasn't fair? A lot of things, actually, ranging from her favorite flavor of ice cream always being sold out to other people having functional fucking families! Nah, son, Inna refused to be this universe's chew toy forever-- this time, she would do the chewing.

Except that, no, that apparently wasn't meant to happen. Fuck this shit world, seriously, the blonde thought. Why are we saving it again? This has got to be the most severe case of Stockholm syndrome I've ever seen! "That depends," she smirked despite her grim thoughts, ever mindful of her image. "Did you bring your ability not to fucking suck?" ...so, yeah, Inna's one-liners were in dire need of some polishing, but hey, at least her spirit was in the right place! Besides, ashes couldn't laugh at her, and that was all that would remain of the bastards once she was done with them. Reaching into the depths of her mind, Inna recalled the power to burn and sear, and-- uh oh. Nothing fucking happened. Just, what?

"Cute, Inna," Chett smiled sweetly. "Cute, but pointless. Do you really think me to be such an idiot?"

"...you want the true version, or the politically correct version?"

"Obviously," her former boss continued, ignoring the outburst, "I've taken certain precautions. Your magic is lovely, but we can't have you disrupting the ritual. So, no spellcasting in this sacred place!" he extended his arms, as if in embrace, and for a moment, the walls fucking came alive-- suddenly, they were covered in eyes, hundreds of them, and they watched and watched and watched, and the fire within her froze. Oh, shit. What was this, some cheap fucking metaphor for the horrors of internet surveillance? Jesus fucking Christ, Inna had no time for this heavy-handed bullshit!

The veil that separated their reality from Eyelandia fell in place again, and the walls were once again just marble, cold and unfeeling. Inna, though? Inna could still sense the gaze. "I understand you'll behave, then?" Chett went on. "Good. I'd like to talk, you see. I'm not as unreasonable as you probably think-- even a model employee can fuck up, and I get it. I really, really do. As such, I don't mind giving second chances to people who deserve them. Which means, not to you, Inna. You've always been a fucking bitch. Miss Liora here, though?" he turned to the other woman and gave her a chilling, knowing smile. "She still shows some promise, I think. So, Liora, consider this: you kill Inna here, and then we can talk business again. A pretty sweet deal, huh?"

starboob · Aug 24, 2020

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉

This temple is not Death's home, but it may as well be her vacation house, because the spirits screaming around them are practically deafening––she can hear each sacrifice, each massacre and the anguish of the souls who had lost their lives to this behemoth in unnerving clarity. Even with her powers blocked and unable to communicate directly with these spirits she feels them behind the veil of The All Seeing. The cries begging for peace, the eyes that peer down at them––Liora holds both thorny realities simultaneously (it's honestly fucking annoying).

The eyes on her are unsettling, but only because they remind her of the watchful eye she grew up under––she isn't even concerned that they seem to block her abilities. If her powers had actually been useful and not the result of several emotional malfunctions, maybe she would actually be worried that she has no access to them. So instead of focusing on these useless details, she does as all Lioras do and focuses on the bigger picture. She scopes out the temple, ignoring Chett's droning (a task she has mastered after years of meetings that should have been emails), and counts the cretins crawling about. Though, as their former employer continues on and addresses Liora her face gives it all away: surprise and also mild flattery. The latter she may have let herself bask in, but this is not exactly how she had wanted to confirm that she is her former employer's favorite (or at least favorite between the two of them). Not after these last few days––where she still doesn't necessarily like Inna, she also isn't really sure what her feelings are towards the blonde but she knows it's not enough to kill her (or even want her dead).

She's about to shoot a catty remark, but in that moment she catches Chett's smile (repugnant as ever) and it sears into her, stilling whatever she had to say. This time, when the Recollection comes to her, nothing flashes in her minds eye. But she can feel her sword fisted in her hands and the weight of a body falling on it. She can feel warm blood pulsing over her hands until they're coated and it's so visceral she swears it's real. She swears she knows what it feels like to have her sword twisting in Inna's stomach. (Knowing fear trickles up her spine and makes a bed in the far recesses of her thawing memories). When she peeks down, though, her hands remain clean, her sword still at her side, and Inna still alive––but the feeling of sticky red continues to linger. What's worse is the feeling... The striking feeling of bitterness, resentment, anger, guilt, betrayal, sorrow all landing like arrows in her chest. Were it not for her own stubborn will she may have let herself become overcome, and buckled, but years of ignoring bitterness, resentment, anger, guilt, betrayal, and sorrow has taught her how to bottle age them until they're ready to be used as fuel. She swallows it all down.

'Bitch, pull it together if you want to fucking survive! Don't be an idiot––that was obviously a trick!'

She takes a deep breath and holds it. Then she releases it, becoming like stone again––or perhaps something more molten, because when she speaks, she snarls, "Should have tried that one on me a few fucking days ago, Chett." She looks over at Inna, briefly, guilt just flashing across her features like lightning before its gone. (Maybe the thunder in her voice gives it away.) "That deal sound as sweet as eating dog shit off your shoe!" Apparently, all of those casual intimacies allowed her to steal Inna's power of the effective one-liner. "If you want her dead so bad, you'll have to do it yourself––after you fucking kill me first!" She is not actually thinking much about the words that are coming out of her mouth, but she does know everything she is saying is distinctly true. "But I'm not going to give you that privilege."

Chett sighs, "When will you bitches learn..." His fingers snap and smoke apparitions fill the room, spilling from the ceiling and materializing as ominous cloaked figures. They begin to circle around the women while Chett carries on with the ritual. "Fine, no tome then––this is just the first step." He raises a silver dagger that gleams under the flames and slowly begins carving the girl's skin––etching a spell into her skin.

It's clear the first drop of blood will spill before either Liora or Inna can get to her––but that doesn't mean Liora succumbs to defeat. She puts her back against Inna's and mutters over her shoulder, "Any bright ideas?"

Syntra · Aug 26, 2020

Inna liked to believe she was a pretty brave person, and there were plenty of reasons for her to think that. Manuals to all of the appliances she had ever bought, for example? Those had ended up in the bin, long before she had even unwrapped the item in question. Terms and condition to new software? Haha, yeah, perhaps she would read those once hell froze over. Yearly check-ups with your doctor? Pffft! Only fucking weaklings had 'their' doctors in the first place, because, really, why would you expect your body to break down otherwise? For fear of it working a little too well, and god striking you down in jealous fury? Sure, that made sense! About as much sense as people only waiting tables because they got bored of, say, random assholes not screaming at them because their french fries didn't taste French enough, or something. So, in conclusion, Inna Orlovskaya was fucking fearless. She'd stare right into Medusa's eyes, unimpressed, and ask: 'is that all?' as the monster tried to use her paralytic bullshittery on her. Right now, though? As Chett asked Liora to kill her, with this ugly fucking smile that somehow made his already ugly mug even uglier? The blonde froze. Her legs wouldn't obey her, and her breath hitched, and-- fuck. (She really would die here, wouldn't she? Something within her knew, with this terrible certainty-- kinda like, when ordering from McDonalds, you knew that the meat would contain all kinds of questionable bullshit including the corpses of employees stupid enough to ask for a raise. Inna just knew. Knew, knew, knew!)

"Yeah, yeah," the blonde rolled her eyes, pushing her fear aside. (Since, really, what would that have accomplished? Her being afraid had never stopped a single goddamn motherfucker-- if anything, it had encouraged them, because, haha, look at the bitch, she's crying. Peak comedy, right? And Liora, she knew, would find that hilarious as well. Twisting the knife in her wounds seemed to be her greatest fucking hobby, and this was such a prime opportunity! No, if Inna had to die, she would do it like she lived-- with pointless anger in her heart, and a biting remark on her lips. ...that way, perhaps she could ignore how much this actually hurt? You know, with all the power of resentment that had been brewing for centuries, deep under her skin.) "Just get it over with, bitch. Don't think you'll ever be able to live in peace again, though. My ghost will follow you everywhere, and paint your walls in colors other than soulless white, and, uhh... fuck up your bookshelf! That's right, dumbass, I won't put the books back in the correct order. Plus, every other year, I will-- wait, what?" Yeah, Inna did actually say that aloud, because, wow! Was that a fun delusion designed to make her departure from this world easier, or had Liora... actually rejected Chett's offer? Rejected it, and implied she would die before her if needed? Um. Ummm, okay, that kinda sorta undermined her narrative. A lot of her narratives, in fact. Maybe she could re-examine those? Since the offer to protect her with her life seemed like a Big Fucking Deal, especially from the same person who had once promised to rip her heart out of her chest. (Talk about sending mixed signals! What was all of that supposed to mean, huh? Were they best friends now? Enemies who reluctantly worked with each other because their shared enemy was an even bigger asshole? Protagonists of one of those 200k+ words enemies to lovers slowburn fanfic Inna decidedly hadn't read in her teens, maybe? Jesus fucking Christ, now she saw the need for the 'complicated' status on Facebook!)

There were times for introspection, though, and this decidedly wasn't one of them. Not with the ghosts coming to visit! "To hell with this bullshit," Inna muttered under her breath. "Can't we have, like, one normal job? Please?" The answer to that question was a resounding 'no,' obviously-- well, 'no' and 'fuck you for asking,' respectively, because the steroid wolf moved. It did so slowly at first, much like Inna when woken up too early, but as the drops of blood stained its face? Yeah, it recovered from its stupor pretty quickly. Too quickly for her liking, in fact! With a loud rrrrrrup, the beast detached its paws from the pedestal, and landed in front of Inna. Uh oh. For some reason, she didn't really think it wanted to play catch-- was it the eyes, shining like red rubies, or the way it bared its fangs? Either way, yeah, this wasn't your friendly neighborhood doggo.

"Thought that Romulus and Remus were just a legend, huh?" Chett smiled. "Well, they weren't. I have only awakened Remus so far, but when it feeds on your blood, his brother is sure to follow. Too bad, Liora! You could have--" Blah, blah, blah, have it all, probably, or some other villainous cliche. Seriously, had all the bad guys graduated from the same University of Villainy, Florida? Because it sure as hell seemed that way! ...the bright side of this repetitiveness, though? There was no need for them to stay!

"Yeah," Inna nodded and grabbed Liora's hand, squeezing it slightly in the process, "I do, actually. Wanna hear what my grand plan is? Strategic fucking retreat!" There were people who would brand this as cowardice, sure, but you know what her message to them was? 'Go fuck yourselves, assholes!' Being a hero didn't have to translate into being terminally stupid, and Inna straight up refused to fight with ghosts, Chett, Chett's people and yet another mythological freak in one tiny temple full of magical inhibitors. Like, no. There was a difference between bravery and assisted suicide, and the blonde didn't care to become a part of that statistic. They didn't pay her nearly enough for that bullshit! (...not that they paid her anything, but that was a separate issue.) "Go, go, go!" As she ran towards the exit, Inna swung her sword a few times, and Chett's lackeys dispersed like the rats they were. Typical, really. "C'mon!" she shouted at the girl. "Unless you want to turn into fucking dog food. We'll... protect you, I guess." ...lines like these still sounded absurd to her, but it kinda was true, wasn't it? Great, just great. All Inna needed now was a cape, absurdly tight clothes and a total lack of self-awareness, and her new career of a superhero could begin!

starboob · Aug 28, 2020

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉

Though in her heart of hearts, through to her deepest self, she can understand Inna's assumption that she really would seize the chance to sever her lifeline (again) it still stings––and not like a bee but a bullet ant on that entomologist's pain scale. She didn't think hating her colleague without reason, threatening her several times over the years (even recently pointing a gun at her), and spewing whatever cruelty her creativity could muster––without regard for Inna's feelings––would have consequences. Namely, she's surprised that somehow all of that, all of those efforts to keep fields of distance between herself and the other, had only result in caring (?) about her. Burdened with this new guilt and the disgusting college-party-cocktail of emotions it's creating within her, she decides to––

Well, that thought will have to wait since on top of the ghosts, that come down easily with sword swings, the stone giant groans to life."Honestly? Yeah, fuck this shit," she says, returning the reassurance (and quietly wondering why the gesture means so much) as she follows the blonde's lead to make strategic fucking retreat. While Liora does pride herself in not being a quitter, she also has a habit of cowering in the face of failure. The nuanced differences between quitting before you can fail and actually subjecting yourself to failure is the tight space where she makes her bed each night to rest. This does not count as failing the job––besides, she hadn't been given any prep time or proper wares to complete this task so it was kind of the Universe's fault for setting them up for failure! "Like––first our boss turns out to be fucking evil, a fucking kraken––" her sword swishes through a ghost, "––attacks our ship out of nowhere (by the way how the fuck did we get on that ship?) and then I just touched my fucking sword this morning and suddenly we're here!" Angrily, she strikes down another something. "If I had to spend three straight months perfecting my SAT scores how the fuck am I supposed to just become magical fucking genius over night!!!"

With the girl safely between them and now making for the exit, Liora doesn't even think as she pushes forward with her sword sticking straight out to pierce through the invisible veil of eyes. Whatever effect that has or may have had to benefit them, Liora does not stay to find out as she simply does not care about fighting off an angry ancient demon dog (seriously, what is up with their recent experiences getting chased around by hounds? Aren't cats supposed to be the evil animal?). "Chett said Remus just needs our blood to awaken Romulus? So lets just make sure that fucking beast finds something else to chew on!"

Remus does follow them out of the temple, but apparently his vendetta against Rome is much more important than whatever purpose Chett had originally had for him. Liora isn't going to question Lady Fortune on this one since she's been an unreliable bitch as of late. Still, it doesn't seem wise to just stop running because the giant Twilight sized wolf is no longer after them so she leads them down the hill into a small cave that obstructs them from view. A few of Chett's cronies rush past them and when she's certain no one else is around she finally breathes a sigh of irritation. "Okay, well that was a total shit show," she says to Inna, then turning her attention to the girl, she asks, "Are you okay? My name's Liora and that's Inna."

She doesn't reply immediately, since she's still shaking from the experience, but when she does she doesn't react how Liora would have expected. Instead of any thank yous or even wonderings about what had happened, she simply remarks, "Aren't you two going to back there and stop that man––Chett?"

"Uh, no? Inna, do you want to explain to––sorry, what's your name?"

"Alessia."

"––to Alessia (nice to meet you, I guess) why we are not fucking going back there? Because apparently being an eye witness to that fuckery didn't make it clear enough," she says, her hostilities finding a new target/victim. However, despite that she still cuts the end of shirt with her sword to make a simple bandage for Alessia's wounds (she figures they'll need to clothes anyway so she doesn't mind destroying the shirt; plus, Italy is one of the fashion capitals of the world so what better place for some retail therapy following the worst few days of her life? She'll just need to make some calls, send some pictures, and it should all work itself out).

However, the girl interrupts Liora's shopping montage––and she doesn't do so to say thanks (again) and she just comments (innocently), "Oh, you can't heal yet?"

Liora may or may not look as if she is going to have a conniption.

Syntra · Aug 29, 2020

...wow. Was she actually lying in a hospital bed and dying of alcohol poisoning, or something? Because this situation, where Inna found herself agreeing with Liora again, seemed like a fucking feverish dream. The other elements kinda pointed to that conclusion as well, so like, maybe she shouldn't take this seriously? You know, just kick back and take things in stride? Yup, sounded comfy enough! (Comfy, and also way more soothing that the option of this being real and Inna just... kinda sorta contracting Liora's strain of bitchiness. Which, unacceptable! Like, yeah, Nietzsche, the edgelord supreme, had formulated his famous 'he who fights monsters' hypothesis ages ago, but the fucker had been wrong about basically anything. Obviously, Inna couldn't be sharing the same wavelength with the person she despised the most, because, uhh... because she fucking said so, alright?! Liora was made of assholery, and Inna-- okay, the same could be said about her as well, but her assholery was actually oozing stylishness, thank you very much. The difference between a classy cigar, and a useless cigarette butt, really. ...hehe, cigarette butts. Now that she thought of it, Liora also had a pretty nice-- No, bad brain! Bad fucking brain!)

"To be fair," Inna said as she cut through one of the ghosts, "all bosses are fucking evil. Like, have you seen the profits they generate versus the pittance they pay the people who work for them? Call me a filthy commie, but that shit is not okay." When viewed from this angle, Inna could actually be seen as a more sexy version of Robin Hood! You know, a smoking hot babe redistributing wealth to the poor, with the poor, oppressed person being the blonde herself. The legend practically wrote itself! "Also, wow, you really are a fucking nerd. SAT scores? Don't you know those are just a scam? I, for example, got all of my jobs thanks to my charisma alone. Nobody has ever thought to ask me about those! They just saw me, and then they were like: 'Damn, girl, you're my dream employee. Please, let me shower you in that sweet, sweet cash.'" ...admittedly, that was probably caused by the fact that your formal education wasn't all that relevant when your resume mostly contained skills related to killing people in creative ways, but so what? It was still true! Besides, had Inna wished to be a fucking doctor, she would have bullshitted her way into the profession as well, she was sure. Diploma requirements? Pffft, just propaganda devoured by those too lazy to use their actual goddamn brains! A bribe here and there, perhaps a subtle death threat, and boom, you got what you wanted 100% of the time. Just like magic, really!

Anyway, it turned out Chett probably still paid his employees in peanuts, because they didn't bother to follow them too far. (Served him right! Perhaps, one day, the fucker would learn about the value of good, honest work. Until then, though? He could wallow in mediocrity, surrounded by people dumb enough not to remember their own names, probably.)

"I mean, we survived?" Inna shrugged. "Given the odds, I'm counting this as a win. And, yeah, hi there, sweetheart," she winked at the girl who had introduced herself as Alessia. "I'm Inna, indeed. It's a real pleasure to meet someone as pretty in a company that fucking ugly. Like a rose among thorns!" ...what? Some innocent flirting had never killed anyone, the blonde figured, and she had the sacred right to get rid of the pent-up adrenaline in any way she saw fit! (Liora was there, too, but Inna wasn't even touching that thought. Nah, mate, not with a ten foot long pole! The girl oscillated between being oddly intimate with her and treating her like a rag, and hey, she wasn't here to be whipped. Just, no. There were professional clubs that catered to such clientele, and did you see her visiting those? No? Well, spoiler alert-- that was true because these dynamics didn't appeal to her at all! Liora could fucking find someone else to torture.)

"Wait," Inna raised her hands in a defensive gesture. "What do you mean by that? 'Cause you kinda look like you know more about us than we do."

"Oh, I know a lot," Alessia smiled, all mysterious. "All shall be revealed in due time."

...wow, awesome! More mysterious bullshit, as if the first batch of it interested her. Disgusting, really. Did she look like a fucking Sherlock Holmes? The lack of a goofy hat and a pipe kind of made her think otherwise, but noooo, everyone had to Act Like This. (Plus, to top it off, Alessia also dared to ignore her compliments. Geez, was romance truly dead? What a wretched, wretched era. Had Alessia followed the proper fucking etiquette, she would have stared at her by now, all dreamy-eyed-- you know, with her being her savior and everything!)

"Besides, we can heal. I think. C'mon, my princess," she turned to Liora with a charming smile on her lips, almost as if the previous exchange hadn't even happened, "kiss me. An inconvenient trigger, but eh! What can you do, right?" ...very smooth! Great fucking job, but unironically. If Inna played it cool, you see, then Liora wouldn't notice the way she fidgeted with her fingers, or how her eyes wandered to her lips. In other words, her reputation would survive another round of this goddamn clusterfuck intact! You're a genius, Inna. A big-brained genius, too brilliant for her times. Also, also, there would be a kiss to enjoy, which... ah. A nice bonus, really. Not that she truly cared, hahaha, but yeah!

starboob · Aug 29, 2020

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉

There are several things more important to focus on than Inna's flirtations with the damsel, and yet Liora cannot help but fume. For no reason in particular. At least, no reason that she can place. But since she likes to rule herself with logic, she makes up the explanation that it's simply annoying to have to see her flirt with everything––because it's completely unprofessional behavior. "Sorry about her––she's never learned manners and fucking flirts with anything. You should have seen her with the tentacle apocalypse yesterday." However, despite her bitter words, she offers a sweet smile to Alessia––that definitely only communicates her jealousy. ‘Jesus fucking Christ, Liora, why do you care who she fucking flirts with? It’s not like she’s ever fucking serious.’

Turning to Inna, she only crosses her arms over her chest as she ~~stares~~ glares at her. "What do you take me for––some fucking kissing booth that you can just pop into whenever you want to mess with me?” Clearly, she's offended that Inna thinks so little of her that she'd expect Liora to just give away her affection so carelessly. Especially to someone with so little interest in her; no, Liora is not desperate for attention like some people in their party of two. Anyway, potential healing capabilities aside, she doesn't think the blonde is being genuine with the suggestion. She will not get played by the biggest player in the game (anyone in their former organization could have told you that Inna is a total ladykiller; though anyone with eyes could tell you that too—just look at her). "Besides, I'm sure that's not the way the effect is triggered," she shoots a questioning look at Alessia, somewhat desperate for clarification (though what clarification she is hopeful for remains locked under Liora’s tight lip).

Alessia, though, is apparently only unhelpful, like everything else in the Universe, because she shrugs and gives a cryptic response, "I'm not a magic-user like you two––that's demon and human stuff."

Even though everything in the last 72-odd hours should have definitively confirmed the existence of magic and magical beings, Liora still looks at the other with completely bewilderment. Alessia continues, either not caring or ignoring the clear confusion, "But you two really should stop Remus––he's going to burn Rome to the ground if you don't... The swords will probably tell you what to do––it’s a good thing you got them back from Ingrid.” With that, she stands, dusts herself off, and begins to meander into the valley.

"Wait! That's fucking all?? You’re just going to fucking leave when you clearly know something that could fucking help?!" Apparently the world doesn't want to be saved, since that piece of advice Alessia had offered is obviously useless. Swords don’t talk. Swords don't instruct. They slash stuff and make her opponents bleed. So until someone starts explaining just what is going on she sees no need to go back to that suicide mission. Though she had not spent a lot of time imagining what it would be like to save the world, this is still nothing like she would have thought to expect.

She huffs and looks over at her forever companion. “Well, we tried my fucking mafia retirement plan and it fucking sucked. What’s yours?” Because, yes, she may be hurt Inna is being a flirtatious asshole, but she also doesn’t want to ditch her or leave her. That is out of the question. She can’t protect Inna if they’re separated and she had already kinda-sorta sworn her loyalty to Inna and for some reason she wants that to mean something.

Syntra · Aug 30, 2020

A kissing booth? A fucking kissing booth? How rude! (And, yes, it was Liora who was being rude here, not Inna. Demanding your colleague to kiss you shortly after flirting with someone else was totally reasonable, you see! At least if said kisses could fucking heal, which they had proved beyond a shadow of a doubt a few days ago. Like, nice ego you got there, Miss Smarty Pants! All those cancer patients would be overjoyed to hear, she was sure, that the cure would be denied to them because the princess couldn't get over herself for approximately three seconds. They could have been an infinitely more sexy combo of Hippocrates and Florence Nightingale, but nooo! That short-lived dream was shattered under the weight of Liora's arrogance-- kind of like a flower that never got to bloom, or some other vaguely poetic bullshit. Besides, she should have been thankful for the proposition! Inna didn't just kiss anyone, and-- well, okay, she did kind of kiss anyone, though that still didn't make it any less precious! You wouldn't reject an angel's blessing just because the very same angel had bestowed her graces upon other people as well, right? The same fucking principle applied here. Her hotness hadn't decreased just because she had been, uhhh, generous with her affections!)

"I'm pretty fucking sure that's how the effect is triggered," Inna said petulantly, folding her arms on her chest, "but hey, I'm not gonna hold it against you. Like, it's obvious few people can handle my radiance. What if you fell in love, huh? Now that would be embarrassing." Embarrassing, and not at all flattering! Inna, after all, still lowkey wanted Liora to die, so the idea of the other woman loving her was about as appealing as the prospect of making out with a goddamn alligator. Now, there probably were people who enjoyed that fantasy, but Inna? Nah, mate. Her tastes were perfectly vanilla, and Liora fit that criterion about as well as a chilli pepper! Just, hahaha. Preposterous. Preposterous and laughable, and not tempting in the slightest. All the times she had imagined Liora bringing her flowers, or kissing her on the cheek? Merely a mental exercise! You know, to keep her brain in a tip top condition. What subconscious desires? Those didn't exist, actually-- because, duh, if Inna wanted something, she was pretty sure she'd know about it. It wasn't an automatic process, god fucking dammit!

Meanwhile, Alessia continued to lose her favor with Inna at a lightning speed-- since, duh, yet another asshole who knew more than her, but refused to share it, was exactly what this world didn't need. Like, how monothematic! Fate should learn some new ways to spite her, really. "Fine, fine. Keep your fucking secrets! I'm sure you know nothing, anyway, and that's why you hide behind cryptic bullshit. Well, that's not gonna work on me, love! Because it's my own goddamn tactic."

Alessia seemed unbothered by the verbal lashing, though, for she merely shrugged. "You'll find out soon enough, Inna. And you, Liora, as well. I can only offer you one advice before that happens-- don't shy away from your heritage."

"...I don't fucking do that? I don't mind being Russian. Like, yeah, we've committed our fair of atrocities, but who hasn't?"

"Not what I meant. You'll understand that soon as well, my dear."

Okay then, Miss Cryptic! It wasn't like the Inna wanted to understand what the fuck she was saying, anyway. In hindsight, the blonde was happy she hadn't been too responsive when it came to her flirtations-- clearly, Alessia was exactly the type who, upon being asked what pleased her, said 'guess'. Which, ugh. The idiots who thought other people were mind readers didn't deserve any rights!

"Hmm, I dunno. Maybe we could go get hammered? I mean, I'm not fucking saving Rome, and I don't think there's anything else to do around here. Plus, considering all that shit that happened in the past few days, the levels of alcohol in my blood are dangerously low. Gotta rectify that!"

"Is that all you ever think about?"

"Shut up, princess. You enjoyed it as well last time, so don't feign moral superiori-- wait. That wasn't you fucking voice, was it?"

"As observant as ever," the mysterious entity said, and Inna could sense the smirk in that voice. Confused, she turned around, but-- well, there was nothing. Big fucking nothing!

"Did you hear that as well, or have I officially lost my marbles?"

"Down here, dumbass!"

Following the instructions, Inna indeed looked 'down there,' and did a double take immediately. There was... a fox standing there? A fox with fur that resembled flames, dancing before her very eyes.

"Hey, hey, what the fuck?"

The fox flicked her tail, clearly unhappy. "Is that any way to greet your sword?! Show some respect, you scrub. My name is Haenel, and I am the source of your power. I've come to share my wisdom with you, even if you obviously don't deserve it. And, oh, hi, Vie! You look very dashing this time around."

starboob · Aug 30, 2020

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉

Trying to be nice to Inna is apparently a task that should only be assigned to titans, because Liora simply is not strong enough to bear this weight. Not when she's feeling hurt and not when Inna continues on and on with her drivel––claiming she couldn't handle her radiance when she had been forced to bask in it for past few days. Clearly, she could handle it and clearly she is not in any way effected by it. "You know, I think you should learn when to shut up." She huffs, pinching the bridge of her nose as she takes some deep breaths.

'Is that all you ever think about?' Is actually what Liora thinks when Inna suggests that their next steps should revolve around alcohol––because, of course, that is what her simple, simple, lack-of-ambition partner would want to do. However, before she can walk further down that path of disappointment, she registers that she hadn't actually spoken the thought and yet she heard it said out loud. 'Did I just gain new psychic powers?' (That is a pretty sound hypothesis too, since she has been rapidly growing new magic muscles each day––because magical puberty had to be just as jarring as normal puberty.)

"––I didn't," is all she says just as every single thought flies out of her head when she stares down at a talking fox––who seems to be both rude and familiar. Watching the fox and Inna banter is like something out of a fantasy novel or movie. Then when the animal introduces itself––herself not only by a name, but as the very power that is supposed to help them save the world? Liora is certain she has exited reality. Obviously, magic is real. Obviously, so are mythical creatures. But NOTHING has prepared her for swords that turn into animals that can talk and apparently teach magic. This has somehow beat everything else for Topmost Weirdest experience––which says a lot for a woman who found herself tangled in tentacles not too long ago. (Only Liora, inflexible and rigid as ever, could still allow herself to be surprised by the unexpected after days of learning her world is not what it seems.)

"Uh––hello?" She's too stunned to say anything more meaningful or even devise something bitchy to say about this situation. In fact, when her own sword flies from her hand and flashes into a goddamn owl she jumps backwards and hits her shoulders against the cave wall.

"S––orry," the owl says in a sing-song voice as she stretches out her wings, ruffling her feathers and shaking out her short stubby legs as she floats gracefully down to the cave floor between the two women and the fox. "But you know I must always be fashionably late! Haenel, so good to see you after being trapped in tentacles for the last, oh, I don't know three hundred years? Give or take," she continues, somehow smiling despite having a beak and no lips. She also appears to glow with a faint golden light around her feathers––or is it that her feathers are made of gold? Liora can't tell. But that isn't the only strange and un-owl-like thing about her, because in the next moment, she stretches her neck high, much higher than a traditional owl could ever hope, and twists herself in a cork-screw fashion as she gets right into Liora's face.

"Oh, hello, Vie. I do forgive you for leaving me behind––so no hard feelings. And I love the vessel you have chosen for yourself in this life––very you. Oh, but I know you don't quite recognize me yet! You may call me Declan." Then she turns to Inna, getting in her face as she exclaims, "And Ivy! How are you? I do hope you're still a hoot."

Whatever thoughts or brain matter Liora still had left in her skull must have vacated the premises, because she continues only give a bewildered stare at the mystic owl while her mouth hangs agape, looking between Declan, Haenel, and Inna. This is perhaps her breaking point––it is far too early in the morning to be dealing with more bullshit. Declan must sense this because she backs away from Liora, giving her some room as the woman slides down the cave wall with her hands tangled in her hair.

"Oh dear, she's still anal and rigid, okay––change of tactics," Declan muses. "Look, Haenel and I are your swords and we're here to help you. We couldn't do much when were first pulled from Ingrid's bowels, because holding down a mythical being is exhausting and we needed a break––I'm sure you gals can understand that––but surely you felt our presence? I mean, Ivy, who told you to split the wave? And Vie, who told you how to summon a shield to protect Ivy? And where do either of you dumb-dumbs think you learned how to fight with swords despite never seriously holding one? Surely you didn't think our cousins, the humble butter knife, taught you?"

Liora chews on this for a minute, and while it makes sense to some part of her, the rest of her is still resistant to the idea. Slowly, though, she begins to gather herself, at least enough that she can speak and while she shakes her head in wordless disagreement with the truth, she fires off, "First of all, I am not anal or rigid––this is just fucking bizarre, okay? Like, yeah, maybe I felt something––but that had to have been a fucking gut-instinct. You don't actually expect us to just––to just believe that talking animals are teachers! Where are your credentials? What school are you affiliated with?"

Declan ignores Liora, rolling her eyes as she addresses the other animal-sword, "Haenel, should we give them that lesson on healing?" She looks between the two women, "That's what you two were trying to figure out before we manifested, no?" Without pause, Declan bolts towards and scratches Liora's arm with her talons ("OW!"). "Ivy, help Vie heal herself."

Syntra · Aug 31, 2020

Oh, okay. First a fox, then an owl, what would appear next? A dinosaur? If the pattern kept repeating itself, the two could settle down and found a fucking zoo! (A zoo with talking animals, too. ...was this their compensation from the Universe, actually? Because, wow, they would never have to lift a finger again in their entire lives! People would kiss their asses for the privilege of getting to shower them in all that sweet, sweet cash, and Inna-- Inna could finally focus on the things that truly mattered. Such as, uhh, memorizing all the songs from her favorite Saturday cartoons? Pushing the boundaries of what the human body could handle re: alcohol consumption? Learning how to lick her own elbow? ...okay, okay, okay! The blonde may not have known what 'truly mattered,' actually, but when she wasn't killing people, on the run or some unholy combination of both, she would definitely find out. So far, Inna was only sure of one thing-- namely, that it wasn't anything Liora spouted in her pathetic fucking attempts to brainwash her. 'Education,' pffft. Like, if school was so great, why hadn't they taught her how to convince Inna specifically of her own truth? Checkmate, atheists!)

Anyway, yeah-- back to their private menagerie. "Um. Hi, I guess!" Inna waved at the owl, because, duh. What else was she supposed to do here? That mythological beings existed was old news at this point, and at least these little fuckers weren't trying to maim her. (Tragically low standards to be sure, but hey, not her fault that this world fucking sucked so much. Not being attacked for no reason at all was quickly becoming a rare type of interaction, and Inna wasn't going to antagonize those who didn't follow this exciting new trend.) "And yeah, sure! It's still me, remember? Like, I'm physically incapable of not oozing awesomeness," Inna put a hand on her hip and flashed the owl a bright smile. (Still? Remember? An odd word choice, though dwelling on it wouldn't get her anyway. It wasn't like words had meanings, right? Clearly, Inna's entire vocabulary existed as these nebulous clouds of vaguely related concepts, with her brain just picking the right-ish category whenever she was about to speak and leaving the rest up to chance. ...which would explain a lot of her recent thoughts about her Liora, really. 'Kiss' and 'kill' were close enough, weren't they?)

"Yes, and you also never fail to ooze dumbassery, Inna," Haenel rolled her eyes. "When was the last time you went to a doctor, huh? And what about your tax returns? Future job prospects? Have you done any research at all? I sincerely hope you aren't planning to be a criminal for the rest of your life, because you aren't getting any younger. Do you know how hard it is to aim at a target properly when your hands are shaking due to arthritis? And this probably will be a problem for you, considering your family's health history."

Immediately, Inna's expression soured. What was this, some strange hybrid between her deceased mother and-- and Liora? (How had Miss I-Love-Boredom ended up with the fun spirit, anyway? Not fucking fair! Daenel appeared to have an actual goddamn soul, which meant she was obviously a bad fit for the soulless bitch. ...could they swap them, maybe? People did that with Pokemons, right? And, obviously, these critters were little more than glorified Ninetales and Hoothoot.)

"I also smoke," the blonde pointed out. "So, like, if you want to roast me for my life choices, consider it carefully, because I'm holding my fucking lungs hostage. One roast = one cigarette!"

Haenel flicked her tail, which seemed to be her signature gesture. "Hmpf. I hoped that centuries of rest would make you wiser, but somehow, you grew to be even more obnoxious. Could you please leave her alone this time, Vie? I fear what would happen if her personality got worse again."

Which, huh? It wasn't like Inna had a lot of time to think about the implications of that statement, however-- mostly the conversation proceeded further and further, threatening to leave her behind in the fucking dust. So, yeah. Apparently, they had animal mentors now! How very fantasy movie protagonist-y of them. ...something told her that her colleague hadn't accepted that role in her heart yet, though.

"I dunno, princess," it was Inna's turn to roll her eyes, "The University of Arcane Bullshit, probably. Or do you think they teach magic at Oxford? Ha! I, for one, believe our new animal overlords with goofy names."

"Goofy names!" Haenel exploded in the background. "My name isn't actually Haenel, just so you know. It's an approximation, because your human tongues wouldn't be able to handle its true form. Which is glorious!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Either way, I kinda think it's actually reasonable to believe them? You know, as 'reasonable' as this fucking mess could possibly get. Like, I did love my butter knife theory, but this looks more...." Inna couldn't believe she was about to use that word "...realistic, I guess." Something within her wanted to utter an acidic comment about Declan being an accurate judge of character as well, but honestly? With Liora looking so fucking distraught, Inna... didn't have it in her, really. Not because she cared for her or anything silly like that, of course! Nah, son. It was just that, uhh... kicking corpses wasn't fun. Corpses couldn't defend themselves, you see, which meant you might as well have been bullying a sack of flour. Some geniuses out there probably enjoyed that sort of thing, but her? No, she had to re-animate Liora first! ...somehow.

The request to heal her kinda happened to reflect her own mood, so Inna stepped closer and grabbed her hand in a way that could be described as... gentle, almost. Just a step away from a caress. "C'mon, Liora," she said, a teasing smile on her lips. (The lips that were dangerously close to her partner's now, just like the night they had kissed.) "Let me take care of you? I promise I'll play nice."

starboob · Sep 1, 2020

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉

Liora has decided she does not like Declan, but she does like Haenel––who seems to be extremely practical and logical. She also seems responsible and maybe that's good for Inna. She can actually learn from someone who can teach her some discipline (and maybe some manners). Her owl guide, on the other hand... she remains skeptical of given that she doesn't seem that wise at all and isn't that supposed to be the whole point of owl imagery? Declan seems like she’d sooner be able to tell her how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop than teach something as sophisticated (she assumes) as magic.

“It’s 364, approximately, and why can’t I be full of fun facts AND magical knowledge? When you died did the stick get pushed further up your ass?” the owl responds, somehow able to sense just exactly where her pupil’s mind had gone––though she does not seem the least bit offended; Liora may be meeting her match. “And trading is not an option, dearest Inna—though I am sure we will find time on our own to bond! Rest assured, I have plenty of ways for us all to team build and put this world back in order! I hope you like charades! But, yes, Liora, please, like, chill on the temper tantrums and jumping to conclusions.”

Yeah, she definitely doesn’t like Declan. Especially if her brain is no longer her safe haven for thought. It’s worse that Inna, the one person who is supposed to her partner in all of this, is siding with the talking animals rather than her! It’s obviously out of spite, she thinks, because she doesn’t believe the blonde is capable of not being the biggest inconvenience on the goddamn planet! Okay, no, she doesn't actually think that, but it's way easier than being hurt... Except that, then, Inna starts being nice? Or at least less of an asshole and she seems to be trying to reason with her instead of just disagreeing. And well, literally, what else did she have to lose? Inna burned down her apartment. She sold her car (her baby). The swords didn't seem like they were going to leave them alone ("We're not!").

Then Inna grabs her hand. She says her name. This time she can't blame alcohol for all the nausea swirling through her stomach, up to her chest (for some reason), but it makes her head light and she feels heat flood over her cheeks. It's overwhelming and addicting. She wants to run away from it––except that she can't, because Inna is so close to her and even despite these nameless new feelings, something in her is, at the same time, drawn to the blonde. Like a magnet. She looks down at Inna's lips, lips she's kissed before––it shouldn't be a big deal, because now she knows what it feels like and she knows what to expect. If anything comes up, she can fight it; she is sure––she's desensitized now. Finally, she nods and leans into Inna's lips and tries to feel as little as possible.

But that doesn't work out and her heart feels like a thousand exploding stars and this time she can feel it without the blurry, watery feeling alcohol gives. It's much more intoxicating and she feels a slight tingle in her arm over the scratch––that seems as good a moment as any to pull away, but instead of doing that she knots her fingers into her hair and keeps the blonde fixed to her mouth. It's unknown how long the kiss would have naturally lasted had Declan not made a loud, "AHEM! I think that is enough––" and puts an enlarged wing between the two women. "Get a room next time, ladies! Anyway, see, look, Liora," Declan brushes her wing over her newly healed arm, "All healed. Kiss it better really works!"

Liora's cheeks immediately color a faint pink and she is looking anywhere except for Inna's face––and thankfully she has her newly healed arm to look at. Though she doesn't really find it that interesting. "Is that the only way we heal?" She asks, nervous to know the answer––she also specifically looks at Haenel since she does not like Declan––if she wanted to listen to shit she would have let Inna go on one of her weird tangents or listened to her sister describe her entire day in excruciating detail.

Syntra · Sep 1, 2020

It was just a kiss. Nothing to freak out over, right? Like, yeah, maybe that sort of thing was a big deal if you were a blushing maiden who had promised to wait until the wedding, or perhaps Quasimodo's uglier twin, but she was Inna. Inna Sexy Orlovskaya, who could have pretty much any girl she pointed her elegant finger at! Admittedly, Liora was kinda sorta aesthetically pleasing herself, with her dark eyes and shiny hair and a figure that, uh, gave her ideas, but she definitely wasn't the best looking catch of hers. (...technically, she wasn't even a catch, but hey, let's not focus on that tidbit too much! It made Inna feel bitter for reasons she sure as fuck wasn't going to examine, and also bitter = bad. In nature, pretty much everything that was bitter was also poisonous! Which could only mean that processing her own bitter feelings would inevitably lead to her getting poisoned and fucking dying. Flawless logic, was it not? Academia all over the world must have wept that they had been denied a brain this galaxy-sized, truly.)

Anyway, it didn't matter. Not a big deal, not a big deal, not a big deal, Inna repeated in her head, as if it was a fucking mantra. (Something that would keep her reasonably sane, maybe. Liora's presence was legitimately fucking dangerous, you see? Just like nuclear waste spread radiation, her colleague spread... something..., and that made her feel a certain indescribable way. Like her own fart in a room full of people, though way more embarrassing? And, come to think of it, also more pleasant. ...if the blonde hadn't known any better, she would have said those were romantic feelings, which, haha! Nice try, but Inna Orlovskaya didn't do those. Nah, it was way more likely that Liora just infected her with brain rot, or something. Surely, surely her vampire slash cyborg slash demonic ass had such dirty tactics at her disposal? Yup, yup, that made perfect sense!)

So, yeah, her precious mantra. It would protect her, no doubt! Except that, you know what the funny thing about mantras was? With enough repetition, the words lost their meaning, and as Liora's lips touched hers, that was exactly what happened. Inna's resolve shattered, along with so many other things, and before she knew it, she was wrapping her arms around Liora-- that something prompted her to caress her back, too, and she felt too numb to resist. ('Cause it just kinda... clicked? That maybe, maybe she had been born to do this. To kiss these stupidly kissable lips, and deal with their insufferable owner. To endure her fucking temper tantrums, her acidic remarks, and fight her way to the sweetness she now knew was sealed inside. To make her laugh some more, perhaps, if only to find out how well-made her human costume was. Since this felt good, okay? Like, pistachio ice-cream levels of good, and god knew Inna would kill for the treat. And Liora-- Liora--)

Liora leaned away, as she should have. Ugh, Jesus fucking Christ! Had 'professional party-pooper' been her major in that fancy fucking college of hers? Because, to Inna, this seemed increasingly more likely! (...also, also, Declan was a fucking traitor. Like??? The blonde had thought the owl was her partner in fun, her only ally in this grim, grim world obsessed with words like 'responsibility,' and now she did this. Unforgivable! Truly, this incident only proved that you couldn't trust supernaturals for shit. Never again would Inna open her heart to anyone else this carelessly, and--)

"Oh my god, Inna," Haenel rolled her eyes. "Don't be needlessly dramatic. You are aware you can kiss her later as well, right? We just don't appreciate the idea of our lesson turning into an impromptu make out session. Got it?"

"I-- wait, what lesson?"

"Your magical lesson, duh. Or do you think you can just wing it forever?"

"...yes? It has worked in all other areas of my life so far, so I see no fucking reason to change it."

For a while, Haenel looked as if she might explode with sheer rage, but then-- then it suddenly evaporated, as quickly as it had appeared. Uh oh. Why did this feel more dangerous? "No, Liora, my dear," the spirit turned to her colleague, ignoring Inna for now. "You can do much, much more. For that, however, you need to master the aspects of spellcasting you've been neglecting, you see? In everything, there needs to be balance. Inna, for example, is an irresponsible dumbass and needs not to be one. Less stable than mercury, I swear."

"Hey!" Inna protested. "I'll have you know that, given my family background, I'm actually remarkably stable! A shining beacon of motherfucking--"

"Oh, shush. Try to calm down a bit, okay?" Haenel flicked her tail, and for a moment, it appeared as she had more of them-- three or four, maybe. Either way, Inna didn't bother to count them, mostly because the gesture fucking set her on fire. The flames consumed her clothes immediately, greedy for sustenance, and the smoke assaulted her nostrils, and the pain... huh. It didn't actually hurt? Hey, hey, what the fucking fuck?!

"Did you just fucking try to kill me, you cheap imitation of a second-rate Pokemon?" Inna growled, so baffled by the development she even forgot to fling herself on the ground and, you know, try to put it out. "I swear, I'm going to-- ouch!" Because, uhh, now it did hurt! Tremendously so, as if her own fucking skin was melting, and Inna-- damn, Inna would literally sell her soul to Satan just to be able to jump out of it. Shit, shit, shit! ...outwardly, though, her skin remained unmarred. Pristine, as if the spirit hadn't tried to turn her into a pile of ash. Just, what? Had all the natural laws gone on a vacation?!

"I did tell you to calm down," Haenel announced, entirely undisturbed. The expression on her stupid fucking face? The fox may as well have been talking about weather, or something similarly mundane. "These are magical flames, influenced by your own state of mind. Get angry, they will do so as well. Fury isn't your friend when it comes to magic, get it through your thick skull! Either learn how to control your emotions, or suffer. Once you reach some semblance of balance, you will be able to extinguish the fire. In the meantime, have fun, I guess!"

starboob · Sep 1, 2020

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉

The ghost of Inna's hands on her back linger and for a minute her attention is focused on savoring that fleeting warmth rather than doing something about her colleague being set on fire by her fox teacher. It isn't until Inna yelps that she looks up and wild surprise widens her eyes, because while she had seen her colleague on fire before and had even seen her burn herself with her own ire, this is unexpected. At the same time, however, once the shock settles she finds this amusing. 'Good. Maybe this will teach her how to not be an idiot all the goddamn fucking tim––'

"And for you, Miss Liora! My shining star pupil," Declan says, probably purposefully interrupting her thoughts if she had to guess. Though she can't worry about that for too much longer, because the look on the owl's face? Downright terrifying, especially since she tents her feathers together mischievously as if they were actual fingers in a fashion similar to Mr. Burns. Given what she has seen Haenel do to Inna... Well, she wonders what bodily pain she will be subject to and she begins prepping herself for the worst. "We'll, unfortunately, have to start at a, uh, how do I phrase this in a way that won't offend you... Remedial level––"

"WHAT—“ Whatever else Liora is going to say is lost to the Universe as she actually loses the ability to talk, like Princess Ariel. Her lips move, but nothing comes out even as she feels around her throat like that could draw her voice back out.

“Anyway," Declan says, continuing on, "As I was saying, we're going to have to start at a more kindergarten level––is that better? Whatever happened to you in this life severely devastated your mental faculties. I have never shared a brain-scape more bleak than your own––last time, you at least had some decorative sense of style. Follow me, dearest."

The owl hops into flight and exits the cave, Liora following mainly because she doesn't have much of a choice. Once perched comfortably on a nearby tree-branch she orders,"Now, sit down and relax. Today we are going to work on your creativity––so let that inner child roam free!"

Liora gives a skeptical look––mainly because inner-child sounded like bullshit for adults who want to feel better about being fucking immature and not growing the fuck up (like what adult needs to sleep with a night-light and stuffed animal?). There is absolutely no need for––

"See! Those judgments are exactly what I am talking about! So today you are going to stare at the clouds and make up a story about what you see. Free your inhibitions and, uh," the owl pauses, tongue sticking out as she thinks. A light bulb literally goes off above her head as she stretches her neck down, in the same corkscrew fashion as before, so that she is in Liora's face. She pecks her pupil's forehead and a gold star briefly appears before fading away. "––Earn three gold stars. Now, any questions or clarifications?" Declan waves her wing and releases whatever spell had been holding Liora's vocal cords hostage.

"I'm an adult––I don't have a fucking inner-child and what the fuck do you even mean work on my creativity?? What does that even have to do with fucking magic and spells? Like isn't there a textbook or something that I can read or study––"

"Liora, this is not Harry Potter––I swear, that woman did more to rot your generation's brain than Spongebob," Declan mumbles bitterly. She recovers quickly, though, returning her train of thought back to its appropriate tracks. "Your magic relies on the full function of your mental recesses. Where you have certainly strengthened the left side of your brain, the right side would be lucky if she could lift a peanut. So once you earn your stars, if that's not too hard for you," she challenges, knowing just how to inspire her pupil's competitive academic energy, "Learn how to skip rocks. You'll get an extra star if you reach ten skips.

"Because if you want to stop relying on emotional malfunctions related to saving a certain blonde (hehe) to activate your magic, then you'll have to get in touch with, what we in the business call, creativity." And to top it off, Declan sends a surge of silly imagery into Liora's head––and while silly, they all depict her using the full extent of her magic. This includes an image of her commanding an entire army of (cartoon) skeletons and that honestly seems kind of neat––especially since she does feel the ghost of what that strength would feel like on a visceral level. "There is your mountaintop to reach, Capricorn."

Syntra · Sep 2, 2020

Okay, okay. Have you ever tried to pay attention to your teacher during an English lesson, only to have your attempts thwarted by some little fucker who kept throwing pieces of crumpled paper at you, like, constantly? Probably yes, right? 'Cause this was one of those universal experiences, kinda like hating your parents or, uhhh, buying those randomized Pokemon packs compulsively since it was fucking impossible to get the last card that was missing from your collection. So, got the mental image? Have you unearthed all those traumatic memories? Well, now imagine the bastard was actually throwing molotovs at you, and you might be able to get slightly closer to empathizing with Inna's situation! (...except that, no, you'd still be better off. Since you could, you know, fucking dodge? Dodge and call the police on his sociopathic ass, just like he deserved? And, yeah, Inna couldn't believe she was actually advocating for contacting the motherfucking police, but hey, desperate times called for desperate measures! ...too bad, really, that the cowards wouldn't arrest a goddamn spirit. It only went to show just how embarrassing the whole institution was! Like, congratz, you had managed to bully a homeless guy out of his favorite park. Wow, much badass, such service to the community!)

The aforementioned spirit, who Inna had re-named 'Fucker McFuckington' in her mind, observed her from her resting spot. (It was a large stone, because of course it was-- just like Liora, this stupid creature seemed to think that comfort was for the weak, or something. Nah, couldn't have nice things! Besides, who even needed a fucking cushion when you could sit your sorry ass on a cloud of superiority, formed by your own farts? They were probably huffing them, too, given how far in-- ouch!)

"Inna, Inna, Inna," Haenel shook her head, disappointed but not surprised. "I haven't heard thoughts this acidic in centuries. I'm surprised, honestly, that they haven't corroded your brain yet. Why must you hurt yourself in this way? Have you never heard of Zen Buddhism? You could benefit from adopting their approach to life, I'm sure."

"Yeah," Inna snarled, gritting her teeth, "and the world would benefit from you being sacrificed to Satan, you waste of fucking--" The fiery whip danced across her skin, again and again, and, shit! Didn't her pain receptors ever get tired of working? Because Inna certainly did!

"Do you see how counterproductive this is?" Haenel asked, her tone tender. (Her concern? Yeeeeah, it would have been much more touching had she not fucking set her on fire in the first place! Like, did she think the blonde suffered from Alzheimer's, or something? Real funny, since the only ailment Inna suffered from was being the Universe's chew toy. As in, wow! Thank you, Powers That Be, for such an awesome, awesome guardian spirit. Next time, feel free to send a cyanide capsule! The process would at least be shorter, and also infinitely more pleasant. ...plus, after all of this, she might actually be inclined to fucking swallow it. Because, when given a choice between a semi-dignified end and yet another round of this nonsense? Goodbye, cruel world! Goodbye, responsibility! Goodbye, love interests that always inevitably stabbed you in the ba... wait, what?) "Negativity is kind of like a boomerang. Perhaps now you'll finally understand that, in the end, your anger will always turn against you."

"What kind of hippie bullshittery is that?" Inna exploded. "That's only happening because you made it that way, you useless piece of shit, and I'm pretty fucking sure strangling you would solve every problem I am currently--" Yet another wave of flames licked her skin, with millions of tiny needles piercing, piercing, piercing her through, and you know what? Yeah, Inna had had enough. Enough of this grand fate she hadn't asked for, enough of superpowers that came with so much baggage they might as well have been called superweaknesses, enough of always being set up to fucking fail. (It actually felt eerily familiar, didn't it? Not that her family had ever set her on fire because not even they had been psychotic enough, but the pattern sure as hell did ring a bell. You know, the pattern of being provoked into reacting fairly reasonably for the circumstances, and getting punished for it immediately? Yeah, that one. Fun, fun stuff! A good thing the blonde didn't believe in trauma and other made-up bullshit like that, really, because if she had, this would have been a great opportunity to fall apart.)

...which she very much wasn't doing, by the way! Inna fucking Orlovskaya was kinda like the Terminator, except that way better. A small fire like that couldn't actually get to her, right? Like, haha, bitches! The humanity had enslaved fire centuries, nay, millennia ago, and Inna was very much aware of her own superiority here. No stupid chemical reaction could possibly overpower her! Much less drive her to despair, pffft. Nah, she was only kneeling in order to, uhhh, gather some energy? Yup, sounded plausible. And as for the tears that filled her eyes, well, she was extinguishing the fire! Duh, you fucking genius. So, aside from the agonizing pain and her existential dread, everything was just peachy, actually. Nothing to see here!

starboob · Sep 3, 2020

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉

Anything that involves others getting injured is usually a reliable way to make Liora laugh, but watching Inna suffer is surprisingly not as entertaining as she might have found it the other day. Declan, however, refocuses her attention to the clouds above before she can get too wrapped up in her vague concern watching Inna’s lesson.

"Now, Liora, what do you see?"

"I think those are cirrostratus clouds––"

"Not what I meant––are you even trying? There is an entire castle in the sky! I see a dragon and a pretty princess and they're falling in love, because the dragon is actually saving the princess from disgusting knights who would never want her for more than a night––oh they have ceas––"

"That's stupid––there are no castles; dragons and princesses can't fall in love. That's, like, disgusting."

"First of all dragons are not disgusting. They are majestic, revered spirits and they have feelings too! Liora, are you even trying to engage with this assignment? So far, you have clearly made up shapes––I can tell when you're cheating, dumby––and you're trying to educate me on the types of clouds (you can delete that file of information, Liora, I promise it will not hurt you to not know what kind of clouds are overhead)... I know you have a great story in you, now where is it!?"

"I––I'm just not creative. I don't know what you want me to tell you, Declan." she says, using the same acid she used to use when invoking Inna's name. "This is a huge fucking waste of time if you ask me. Like what's the point of Inna being on fire and me creating cloud stories if the world is fucking ending, Remus is apparently going to destroy Rome, and our old boss is a psychopath? It seems shortsighted to be wasting our fucking time like this." Like if she's supposed to be able to command spirit armies and other weird metaphysical shit then HOW is this lesson even supposed to be helpful? Because she did not see how unlocking her creativity would allow her to better command her magic. Why can’t she just logic her way around magic to make it work in her favor? ’Jesus fucking Christ this is stupid!'

The owl remains quiet. Her eyes seem sad as she looks down at her pupil, who's body language is so closed off you could mistake her for a crumpled wad of paper. Somehow, the owl's silence is worse than when she had been needling Liora and pressuring her to think of stupid, contrived story based on whatever she thought the clouds were shaped like––which is ridiculous because clouds come in cloud shapes. People who choose to see animals or castles are deluded and most likely living in a fantasy land that does not reflect the harsh reality that there is nothing more to life than collecting trophies until you're so full of plastic gold that there is no room for anything else. The stubborn student huffs, crossing her arms over her ample chest, and falls backwards onto the grass––she is trying and it bothers her Declan doesn't see this.

She doesn't know why its so hard to make something up or even see the clouds as something they distinctly aren’t—her own stubbornness aside there is something strong in her tells her it’s wrong; wrong to waste time; wrong to waste time on fun; fun means there is time for more work; and if there is time to work then it should be spent efficiently. It sounds like her own voice, so she trusts it more than she should. But if she follows the sound, she'd find that it's connected to her behemoth mother and it's that woman who lives like a ghost possessing her body and thoughts. It seems, even oceans apart (she assumes), with no means of being able to contact her, that she is still under that woman's thumb. That realization, however, is still buried under too many layers of protection that she isn't even close to making this discovery for herself––even if she were to, it'd be too painful for her to be able to do anything meaningful with it other than reject it and herself further.

After what feels like hours, though it's only been three minutes, Declan flaps her wings like she is trying to get attention and announces, "Well, just pretend you are seven again, Vie, and tell me what your seven year old self would see." Perhaps, the owl thinks, using her past name may inspire some different thoughts. After all, Liora is Vie and Vie is Liora. They are two lives separated by centuries, sure, but they are connected and still one. Declan believes in Liora's ability to overcome this block because she has seen Vie do it before. She just needs to figure out the angles that will work on this recycled psyche.

"I––my seven year old self didn't stare at the clouds. My seven year old self was more concerned with practical things; like how to make sure my years playing with Legos could transfer to a career in engineering, eventually." An extrapolation of the truth, but Liora's childhood hadn't included lengths of time just doing things for simple joy or pleasure. Even when she had been introduced to her new, toddling sister she hadn't spent much time trying to play or interact with her––as much as her sister had tried to bond with her. Gaining a sister only made her more desperate for approval, seeking out how to do life right, and becoming an embodiment of perfection since her mother had decided to adorn her new sister with dulcet affection and reserved all her critical cruelty for Liora. (Or that's the way she has interpreted their shared childhood.)

As these rememberings resurface in Liora, Declan feels them and quietly, with love, shatters her reality, "That's not normal."

Those simple words strike her deeper than she feels they should and when she looks up at the owl, away from the stupid, stupid clouds, she isn't even sure how to react. Anger comes to mind, but when she opens her mouth to spit fire, nothing comes out and not because Declan has taken away her voice. No one has ever told her that her childhood had not been normal; she has never heard or considered this for herself. It makes her uncomfortable––even if she resents the way she had been raised, even if she resents her mother, resents her sister, resents anything that resembles things she couldn't have, it's too much to accept. Accepting that would really confirm that she'll never get the mother she wants, the mother she needs. Living in resentment, she has a certain level of hope reserved––somewhere. Clinging desperately to it like air when you're already drowning belowdeck a sinking ship (suspending herself in tortuous hope).

"Shouldn't––shouldn't you do something about Haenel?" She asks, turning the conversation away from her discomfort as she looks over to her partner; from this distance, Inna is at least spared from Liora noticing her tears, but the distress is palpable even from the short meters that kept them in their respective 'classrooms.' "I mean Jesus fucking Christ, Declan, how educational is corporal punishment? They banned it for a fucking reason."

"Haenel... Has a handle on it (probably). Focus on your lesson––if you get one story down, we'll break and you can teach me about the different types of clouds."

At this point, she doesn't bother arguing with the guide or resisting the lesson any more than she already has. Though she is still considering walking away from this lesson, she also wonders if there is any truth to what Declan has said and what the owl has shown her––even if she can't see the connection for herself, the owl's weird familiarity does encourage her to continue her efforts. Even if it feels inherently wrong to try and find a story among shapes of water and air. Still, she can admit she does see something vaguely shaped like a lobster claw passing over her. "Okay, there's a lobster claw... And it's trying to find where its body went; but mostly, there's no point to fucking doing that because its body has been served and eaten at a Red Lobster."

“Half a star, because that climax was rather anti-climatic––you can't fake these ones, Liora. But an A for effort! Try again––in fact, don't try at all! Find something and speak without thinking!"

“Ugh! This is fucking impossible!” She throws her arms above her head and lets herself resemble something of starfish as she splays out on the grassy knoll. The clouds change faster than she can even think of something that they resemble, but in thinking that is her problem––the woman is so in her head that not thinking seems intimidating. Like dropping a shield––no, more like taking down her entire fortress walls. Her face screws as she grows more frustrated, but eventually one cloud stays still enough that she is able to think of an appropriate shape. "Okay, that one looks like a sword," she points towards a thin rapier like wisp, "And its name is Didiot the Idiot; it got its name, because it made anyone who wields it stupider. With each swing and each life taken, the user is doomed to become head mush. Eventually Didiot fell into the hands of an actual idiot and broke under the stupidity of its idiot master."

Declan looks unimpressed, but it's better than the lobster claw story and light years beyond Liora's would-have-been lecture on cirrostratus clouds. So she relents, "Okay, that earns you the second half of that first star."

Syntra · Sep 5, 2020

The one benefit of crying while on fire? The tears evaporated before anyone had the chance to see them, so like, you could still consider yourself to be a fucking badass. Not that Inna needed to take advantage of the phenomenon, of course-- mainly because she wasn't crying. Nah, mate! Inna Orlovskaya wasn't into these so-called 'weaknesses,' and so she simply didn't do them. (It being human and the like? Pffft, yeah, right. A bunch of filthy excuses for people with no creativity! Because, you know what else was human as well? Living in a cave, worshiping forest fires for the rare opportunity to cook your meat, and, uhhh, dying in your childhood because vaccines would totally steal your soul. Everyone agreed those things were so last millennium, so why did tears get a pass, huh? Like, what was the fucking evolutionary advantage here? 'Boo hoo, I'm feeling sad, so let me sabotage my own vision to get eaten by some random ass puma?' ...or, you know, to get cannibalized by the SocietyTM, because they could sense it-- you being wounded, and thus also an easy fucking prey. Kind of like a doe with her leg already chewed off, really.)

"How are you holding up, Inna?" Haenel jumped off from her rocky throne, like a benevolent fucking queen ready to welcome her guest with bread and salt. The concern in her eyes? It seemed real, almost, and maybe the blonde would have believed it had it not been her who had decided to prepare Grilled Inna Special: Extra Hot Edition.

"Just peachy," Inna spat out, and the fire flared up with new fervor. (Pain, pain, pain. It always came down to it, didn't it? Like a fucking karmic boomerang, right in her teeth. Do and be punished, don't and... also be punished, because, hahaha, so much fun in seeing her beg! Inna could sorta understand, she guessed, as the movies lately had all been fucking garbage, but still. Couldn't people find a more constructive hobby? Burning ants with a looking glass, maybe, if they wanted to stay on the psychopath spectrum?) "Never had more fun in my entire life! I have always fucking dreamed of being tortured by a twisted version of a Disney Princess companion. Oh yeah, baby, burn me some more! Can't wait till I tell all of my friends about that."

"You don't have friends, Inna. If you had, you would have contacted someone by now, don't you think? About your life being in shambles."

"Well," Inna pursed her lips, "maybe some of us don't like being a fucking burden, but I guess that wouldn't be relatable to you, would it? Dumbass! Idiot! A good-for-nothing steak knife! Once you get bored of this, I swear I won't use you as anything but a paperweight. That's right, bitch, I'll even get some fancy papers for you to hold, and-- ow, shit. Shit, shit, shit!" The flames burned ever brighter, and this time, it felt as if like her bones were going to melt-- they burrowed deep, deep inside of her, like some grotesque worms. ...except, you know, these worms were still hotter than fucking chicken vindaloo. What a wonder of biology! (Friends, pfft. What did a certified pain-in-the-ass like Haenel even know about friendship, anyway? Because everyone loved Inna, no matter where she went! They couldn't get enough of her sick humor, and her pretty hair, and her... just her in general, okay. Among all those sheep dreaming of good mortgage and other devastatingly boring stuff, she was a shining beacon of originality! One day, fucking songs would be sung about her. Already, Inna was more a legend than a mortal, a star surrounded by grey rocks, and--)

"And this is why you don't have friends," Haenel said, with a hint of something indescribable in her voice. (Did she care to decipher it? No, the hell she didn't! Fuck off with your cryptic bullshit, Haenel. Fuck off into the hellish pit from which you had crawled out of, and stop ruining innocent criminals' lives! As if the goddamn police wasn't enough. As if Inna herself wasn't--) "Why you don't even have yourself."

"Ah, more hippie nonsense, I see!" the blonde grinned, despite the pain. (That, at least, was something she had had a ton of practice for! And practice? Practice made fucking perfect.) "What, are you going to tell me my chakras aren't well-aligned? That my fucking core doesn't vibrate along with the music of the Universe, or something? If you wanted to sell me a goddamn self-help book, then let me tell you, this is some aggressive fucking marketing. I can't even--"

"There's no goddamn book, Inna," Haenel rolled her eyes. Just you and your... your stupidity. You don't have yourself because there's barely anything left! You can be more than a cool facade. It's okay to react with something other than this unimpressed bullshit, girl. You're literally on fire. Don't you think it's fine to feel a little sorry for yourself?"

And, despite the flames, Inna froze. The words resonated in her head, over and over, like this annoying pop song melody designed to stay with you for weeks. (She couldn't do that. Weakness = suffering, and this was suffering as well, of course, but there would be more of it if she let it inside. You know, inside of her heart of hearts? That was why she had locked it and thrown the key away, and why she refused to acknowledge that Liora lowkey terrified her, and, just-- just gritted her teeth and bore it. All of it, really. It made fucking sense! Suppress, suppress, suppress, so that you wouldn't be de-pressed. Haha! See how funny she could be? Comedy gold, really. The stand-up comedians should be shaking in their boots, because Inna Fucking Orlovskaya was coming for their asses, and then--)

And then it hit her. That, even if Haenel was just a discount and less cute Vulpix, she was right-- that she was doing this, and quite frequently. (That she didn't know how to do anything else.)

The tears, shy so far, had somehow turned into waterfalls-- there was snot blocking her nose, too, but fuck her if she cared. Inna curled up into a ball cried, cried and cried, and her entire body shook, for the first time in a while, she didn't feel angry. Not really, anyway. It was this... feeling of powerlessness, you know? Of being dragged around like a fucking ragdoll and having to take it because, duh, there was no actual strength in your wooly limbs. Nothing, zero, nada. Comfort was wrapped in that sensation as well, though, and-- huh. Perhaps the tears were the answer? Since, with a whimper, the fire went out. (Only smoke clung to her now, as if it had never happened in the first place. Smoke, and the bitterness in her mouth.)

Fantasy DIFFERENT BODIES ⋮ SAME SOUL | ( *starboob && syntra )

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