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

Well... Inna had never really thought of it that way, but now that she summarized Liora's characteristics in her head? Sol's doubts actually made a lot of fucking sense. Like, how the hell had the person who habitually googled updates to traffic laws ended up in the mafia??? ...and, no, don't ask how Inna knew her colleague's internet history. It was an educated fucking guess, okay? An educated guess based on hours on research, and also some spyware conveniently planted on the other woman's device. Just, sheesh! You couldn't live in These TimesTM and not keep tabs on your fucking competition. In Inna's humble opinion, anyone who didn't take precautions against this sort of thing was practically begging to have their info stolen! Like, it was the equivalent of wearing your diamond earrings in that suspicious back alley in which the local losers dealt crack, and Inna, ever the people pleaser, would hate not to deliver. Haha! ...and, and, and, besides, spying on Liora was actually a matter of international security. Who knew what dastardly, alien-y plans she might have hatched? Aside from, like, buying clothes online. (Some, uh, inspiring clothes, too. The blonde may or may not have taken mental screenshots of the items Liora had bought at Victoria's Secret-- solely to map her then-enemy's preferences, of course. Knowledge was power, and you never knew when these things might come in handy! ...but also, hnnng.)

"It does sound kinda weird now that you mention it," Inna said, deciding to ignore that whole mental detour, "but nah, actually. Maybe it's character development! I mean, they do say some cliche shit about good girls always going bad, don't they? And since it has entered the cultural fucking hivemind, there needs to be some truth to it. Repression, and yadda, yadda, yadda. Plus, fundamentally, isn't authoritarianism about hurting people? Like, about hurting their fucking souls. You just..." Inna took the bong and inhaled the smoke eagerly, as if it was water and she hadn't drunk anything for days, "...say 'no and no and no, bitch', to every request they might have, and like, you build a wall out of those rejections, you feel me? Between them and yourself and the rest of the fucking world. Even between them and their own wishes! Tell me that isn't violence, man. You fucking tear them away from themselves. No way that doesn't hurt. So, uh, maybe Li here saw it and decided she'd upgrade to causing physical pain?" Inna turned to Liora, a big, dumb smile on her face. (Why did people say weed made them dumb, again? 'Cause, dude, the blonde saw everything with such goddamn clarity now! The universe itself stood naked in front of her, like the day it had been born, and whispered secrets into her ear-- such as, you know, the confirmation that she indeed was awesome. That, and all those deep, deep thoughts! Like, you know how dogs saw different colors than people, right? And that there were creatures whose color spectrum was so wide it made the human eye seem like a fucking knockoff of something much greater? Inna now saw all of those spectra all at once, and man oh man, why the fuck were there any wars at all? Instead of pointing guns at one another and going all: "ratatatatatata!!!!" people could just... get high. Like, it objectively seemed to be the superior option here. Did anyone even enjoy bullets in their chest? One of those Mr. McSmart SmartyPants university types should publish some fucking research on the topic, or something.)

So, yeah, Inna's mind was wandering away and away and away, carried by the scent of weed-- except that it quickly returned to the fucking Earth when Sol presented her stories. "What!" the blonde howled and laughed, so much that her belly started to hurt. "Dude, that's just... fuck, even Liora's spurned lovers are such fucking overachievers. Trail of rose petals? In the goddamn sixth grade?" Then, as if she forgot the other woman was even there, Inna leaned closer to Sol and, uh, winked. "You think that would actually work on her? Like, in the theoretical situation in which a hot blonde would do it, not some greasy-ass middle school fucker. Asking for a friend." Haha! Ah, Inna, Inna. Always so fucking smooth, truly, that she couldn't help but wonder how it was even possible that she hadn't just... slid off the edge of the planet. Now, wouldn't that be a fun way to go?

Entirely content, Inna inhaled more of the blessed, blessed smoke, and handed the bong back to Sol. "Jesus fucking Christ," she laughed some more and, once again, it looked like she might choke. "A spitfire, ain't you? Maybe that was her villain origin story. Like, Li beat a bitch up and was like: 'Wow, what a great feeling, actually. Fuck all those years I spent memorizing pointless bullshit! This is what I wanna do for the rest of my life." And then, boom! Mafia. Makes sense, I think. It really, really makes sense." The theory was sound, just like everything Inna had ever produced, but Liora, of course, had very little understanding for her academic pursuits. Just, what? Leave? Now, when they'd barely started?

With her lips pursed, Inna rose from the bed-- still only half-clothed, mind you, because obviously, smoking weed took precedence over such shallow, shallow concerns like not attacking someone's delicate sensibilities. And, the thing that happened next? The blonde fucking collapsed in Liora's lap, putting her arm over her neck. "C'mooon, Liora," she whined. "Don't be such a fucking spoilsport. Please, Liora, Liora, Liora. Or, hehe, more like Comfyora? 'Cause you are comfy. Has anyone ever said that to you, huh?" Inna giggled, way too close to her ear. "Your name is funny, you know. What does it mean? Inna means 'river', and I do think I'm kinda like river. As in, right now, specifically. I'm fucking flowing!"
 

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LIORA TRIHN
'Jesus fucking Christ, do these two ever fucking need to breathe?' that thought and so many others like it, are swirling around the woman's head like a shield; letting her judgments protect her so that she does not have to acknowledge that their banter is getting under her skin. And not in the way that it usually does. Usually, both Sol and Inna are able to inspire reactions so volcanic that Mount Vesuvius would need to pack her bags in shame for being such a poor excuse of a volcano. Right now, however, her anger seems to harbor a secondary flavor that she's never tasted before. Most likely because jealousy is beyond the dark haired woman. What does someone like Liora have to be jealous over? She's perfect and the best at everything that she does (save for magic––but even she can recognize that with hard work and determination she will be able to reach the top of that mountain peak as well). So she's angry and just gently simmering in Sol's beanbag chair while the two prattle on like Dumb and Dumber.

And the fact that they're talking about her as if she isn't even there! That's just an all too familiar feeling of being treated like an object ready for critique. Of course, Sol and Inna are not critiquing her per se, they're just hypothesizing about how someone like her ended up joining a (dis)organization such as Chett's little mafia. It's a valid thing to wonder; even Liora can see how it makes sense to question it––and some part of her feels flattered that they think so highly of her moral code that they don't believe she would ever stoop so low as to join criminal empire. In her mind, she does have a pretty good moral code––killing people for the mafia doesn't count as doing anything wrong since it had all been for the purpose of her investigation; she had to gain their trust somehow... And that she leaned into the role on more than one occasion? And that she does like resorting to violence, because it had been oddly cathartic? A weird side-effect and one she can just as easily brush to the side. Liora has justifications upon justifications for what she has done over the years and they all help her... well, not sleep at night because she really doesn't do that (except for when Inna forcibly cuddles her... which is honestly comforting for reasons she does not have the words to describe), but they don't grate on her conscious. So, when they hypothesize and Inna puts together the pieces of her past to fit the present moment, she shrugs. Neither agreeing or disagreeing. "Sounds about right to me, I guess."

That response is so lackluster that Sol knows, knows it in her very bones that Liora is hiding something. So naturally, she pries. "Okay, okay, so let me this gay," because getting something straight never made any sense to the silly sister, "you're telling me, that you just ran away and joined the mafia because of the one fight you got in in high school? Like what? Were you their secretary or scheduler or something?" Because Sol could kind of see Liora in that role––not that it felt nearly ambitious enough for her sister, but if she guessed too accurately Liora might not say anything. So she decides to subtly insult her; heaven knows Liora is loves her "humble" brags. "Did Helia approve this five-year plan?"

Liora does fall for that, because her sister is being an idiot. Like how can Sol, in one moment, acknowledge Liora's lofty ambitions to work in politics and then in the next say something as ridiculous as Liora becoming the mafia's secretary (but, like, yes, she did take meeting notes––just another example of her going above and beyond the call of duty). Liora snaps her head back to look at her sister, eyes full of something hot and words come out just as fiery, "No, I was not some fucking secretary––and no, mom didn't approve it either. She didn't fucking know about it. She used to fucking bitch about some crime mob fucking with her plans so I got into her files and figured out which one it was and joined it to destroy it from the inside," because her mom didn't think she was ready for any of the firms she had applied for and had her name blacklisted. For some reason, instead of seeking out revenge, Liora decided to try even harder to gain her mother's impossible seal of approval. In Liora's mind, it made sense to take down one of her mother's enemies to truly show her who is capable. (No, she doesn't really think about how backwards that is, because she thinks it was a completely forwards way to go about it.)

Though before she can get too caught up in her mental gymnastics, Inna catches her off-guard by settling down on her lap. Her jaw tightens as her heartbeat picks up with such fervor she's positive that the blonde can feel it––she's actually convinced that maybe Sol can feel it too like she's shaking the entire sorority house with her heart's incessant thumping. Of course, it has nothing to do with Inna the Total Hottie Orlovskaya being half-naked (the bottom half?!) in her lap. Except that it's totally the reason and, well, it makes sense her face would go beet-red as a result. She hardly has time to catch everything that Inna is saying, because she's so close to her and she feels overstimulated––like, what does she even address first? "Um, get off of me?" she asks or says, but there's hardly any conviction. (Oddly enough there is a brief, fleeting image in her head that involves pulling Inna closer––as if she doesn't already think they're too close as it is!) "It, um, uh, means light or something to do with light," usually she would have the answer to this ready and at her disposal, but she's spending more of her mental energy trying to keep her eyes up and her hands away from anywhere compromising. "We really aren't supposed to be here, Inna," she says, feeling her mouth get dry for some alien reason. Maybe... Maybe because she's a little stoned and already feeling the dreaded cotton-mouth? Yes, she'll go with that. "––like I think I accidentally got distracted while we were..." she remembers Sol is still in the room and immediately shuts up. "––I'll explain later. Now, please... You're suffocating me," but she doesn't push her off––not like she had shoved her out of the bed just a few days ago. She's also breathing just fine, on the physical level. Emotionally, she feels suffocated.

Now, Sol observes all of this with a glint of mischief in her eye. Inna having a crush on Liora is shocking, because Inna seems like someone who would want someone who would sooner throw caution to the wind than the person who can accurately tell you the direction that the wind is coming from and at what speed. However, what is even more surprising is Liora's reaction. Usually, her sister's personal bubble has the radius of an olympic pool so the fact that she hasn't pushed Inna out of her lap is interesting. More so how bright her face is––Sol has never seen that reaction from her sister. Even when she brought home that dreadfully boring lawyer girlfriend of hers, she never seem flustered by her. (Liora also hadn't seemed all that interested in her either so the theories that spinning in Sol's head are becoming so overwhelming that she has to act. For the sake of sister's tragically abysmal love life.) "You two should go to the lake––like Helia's been saying I shouldn't go around there because of all the missing persons reports, but honestly that just means that there are less people around." Sol then pulls out her phone and begins rapidly texting five different pledges to help her with... something. "Just take one of the 'zas and picnic there! None of the disappearances have happened during the day anyway, so it'll just be a nice place to pop a squat––and maybe you can bully someone out of a boat, Li, since you apparently joined the mafia––which I totally believe." She doesn't. Interestingly, however, she would believe that Liora developed magic super powers if Liora were to reveal that.
 
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"Supposed, supposed, supposed," Inna rolled her eyes, though she seemed amused more than anything else. (Why had she been so prickly all the time, anyway? Good mood = good karma, and good karma = good afterlife. So, from now on, she'd be a hippie! The very queen of hippies, in fact, 'cause while Inna Orlovskaya was a leading expert in half-assing, she never half-assed anything that was actually important. Like, she sure as fuck wasn't going to shit on the ticket that would allow her to escape from this miserable existence! ...speaking of which, what did you have to do to get crowned as a hippie? Beat up the most prominent one? Hmm, hmm! The blonde would have to find out who the most non-violent person on the planet was and fucking deck them.) "Don't you think it's funny how it rhymes with 'imposed'?" she smiled at Liora, blissfully unaware of her panicked reactions. "Like, there's gotta be some deep fucking symbolism in there, man. Maybe the -posed contains linguistic unpleasantness. I mean, you get stuff like 'opposed' and 'exposed', too, and that cannot be a fucking coincidence. Nuh uh. Especially with 'deposed' in the mix!" Wow, wow, wow. Father had always said she would never amount to anything, but like, the joke was on him-- some love, a little bit of weed, and Inna was solving the mysteries that had plagued humanity since its goddamn conception! Man, she really was awesome.

"Now, the real question is: do you think this works both ways?" Inna looked Liora in the eye, suddenly very, very serious. "As in... names being important. Is a good thing spoiled via a shitty name, or is a name shitty because the thing has always been shitty?" Her tongue felt strangely heavy-- heavy and clumsy, too, but she could only assume it was because of her head being so full of these Big Think thoughts. Clearly, she was fucking exceeding the limitations of the human body here! So, where the fuck was a pen and a piece of paper? Ideas this revolutionary should be carved into a stone, though in this economy, the blonde would make do with whatever late capitalism substitute available. "We could just... straight up prevent the existence of shitty things if we name them right," Inna continued to work on her theory. "But, light? That's good. A lucky, lucky name. Can I steal some of your luck?" Upon which, without a semblance of warning, Inna leaned forward and kissed the tip of Liora's nose. "There! It's mine now," she grinned, somehow both smug and innocent. "You can take it back if you'd like, buuut it's on my lips. Gotta work for it, I'm afraid." ...okay, okay. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? (Normally, the blonde kept a good track of her own tangents, but this kinda felt as if her brain had split apart! While one half of it was going 'wheee', the other had fucking gone to sleep, and so the communication between the two centres was, uh, interesting. For reasons that absolutely weren't Inna's fucking fault, shit got lost in translation sometimes. Like now!)

"Oh! A picnic! De-light-ful, Sol. You have the best fucking ideas," Inna beamed. Whereas Liora's pleading didn't appear to move the blonde, the prospect of a picnic certainly did-- within seconds, she was standing, miraculously clothed, and holding a pizza beneath her arm. "I can't believe you've been keeping this lake a secret from me, Li. You know that bitches love lakes, and that I'm a bitch. A bitch who loves lakes!" Hmm, hmm. Should she, like, draw a graph or something? Liora's PowerPoint had proved she was into Visual EvidenceTM, so maybe, this could help illustrate her fucking point better. (...speaking of aesthetics, though? They'd fucking look good together, she and Liora. Like, a red carpet couple level of good. So, would photoshoping herself on Liora's photos count as 'desperation' or 'compelling visual evidence'? Asking, again, for a friend.)

Perhaps luckily for Inna, though? Her device was locked, and she couldn't for the life of her remember the fucking password, and also, also, lakes. Lakes and picnics! (And mysterious disappearances, apparently, but that particular piece of information was stored in that part of her brain that was usually used for, like, filling out official documents-- so, the part of it that was covered in spider webs, in other words. If they ignored the obvious problem, it would ignore them back, right? 'Cause problems didn't need more problems, and Inna and Liora could pose a problem for problems, as it turned out. Problem-ception!) "It's been, uhhh... a fucking honor to meet you, I guess?" Inna bowed to Sol. "I'm not sure if that's the right phrase in English, but it feels right in my heart, man. May our paths inject... resurrect... no, intersect! Intersect again. Now, c'mon, Li. Lead the way."

Inna half-expected that their journey would be intercepted by a fucking UFO or something-- mostly because Fate, god and/or all the magical forces in the 30 miles radius just couldn't seem to leave them alone. All the fuckers had probably gone on a vacation, however, which, yay! They reached their destination without a single incident. (If you didn't count the three college girls' whose phone numbers Inna had gotten. And to think she'd only offered a trial kiss! The blonde, uh, also had much more convincing arguments up her sleeve.) Anyway, when the lake finally appeared in front of them? Inna couldn't fucking feel her legs, so she pretty much collapsed on the ground.

"Now this is what I call a fucking view. Ten out of ten," Inna nodded. "Although... hmmm. Have you ever burned down a cathedral, Li? 'Cause that thing on the horizon is seriously ugly. Totally destroys my impression of this place. Like, your spirit should fucking soar here, you feel me? But nooo, they build this embodiment of depression nearby. How is this legal? This is why I don't believe in the law!"
 

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LIORA TRIHN
Honestly, Liora is for once thankful for one of Sol's suggestions, because at least it will get them out of this room and she won't have to watch Inna be so unprofessional––and with her sister! Her sister, for Christ's sake! Like, intellectually, the woman understands why her sister and Inna get along so well; she understand why herself and Inna had clashed. Like, she hadn't even meant to warm up to Inna as it is, but being swallowed by a kraken (and forcing Inna to be swallowed by a kraken) really changes one's perspectives on which unfounded grudges are important to hold onto. (That and the fact that Inna noticed that she had been nervous in the café and hadn't berated her for it; that Inna has seen her fail at so many things and never once chastised her (in any meaningful way)... She's not really used to reactions like that and it means something to her––perhaps that's why the bitchsona has mostly decided to leave Inna alone.) So maybe she is a bit irked that it happened so easily for Sol even if she gets why! Like why can't she be allowed to have just one thing for herself that her sister doesn't also have. (Why can't she just once be better than her.)

And, well, that line of thought is interrupted when Inna kisses her nose and her cheeks instantly flush like Inna has pressed the Make Liora Blush button. The woman becomes incredibly stiff and only relaxes once the blonde has gotten up off of her lap and is no longer stealing all of her air. She gets up shortly after and shoots something like a glare at Sol before leaving. (The interaction really hadn't been all that bad, now that she thinks about it––but it probably would have been far more explosive had Inna not been there. Something about wanting Inna to think she's an okay person?)

Anyway, as she takes them towards the lake, also not really concerned about the disappearing people, she turns to Inna. "I didn't know you liked lakes––I would have taken you here if I had known that," she says, for no reason in particular––it's not like she likes doing things that could potentially make Inna smile. (Also, that Inna has decided to call her Li and she's not protesting like she does with her sister? She maybe likes the way it sounds coming from Inna. It feels different when she says it. More pleasant.) However, that desire quickly fades (or increases tenfold?) when she watches Inna fucking flirt (again) right in front of her (three times!). And how she offered those fucking trial kisses and got their numbers. A green fire burns inside of Liora and she isn't sure what it's purpose is, but she does feel herself rub her nose bitterly––certainly, not rubbing away the kiss Inna had given her earlier! That's preposterous! Kisses don't linger. They aren't real things. She just had an itch.

She also plops down on the grass and grabs the pizza box from Inna (it's so obnoxiously large) and opens it. Normally, she doesn't really care for pizza, because it's not authentic Italian––not really anyway and certainly not whatever is in this box, but right now she'll occupy herself with anything to get away from whatever this noxious feeling is. She pulls one of the slices, watching the cheese stretch before she gathers it with her fingers and sets it on top her piece. "What?" she asks, mouth full of food. The cathedral isn't a really noteworthy thing to mention, not to Liora, who has stared at it on numerous occasions when she attended the university. Though... Now that she's looking at it, it kind of sounds like it's calling to her? Just the faintest whisper. There's this feeling that's even trying to get her body to move closer to it. She shakes it away––this is why she hates getting stoned even just slightly! "Are you seriously thinking of arson right now?" she raises a brow, though somewhat intrigued by the mental imagine. Yeah, Inna burning down a church makes a lot of fucking sense in her book. "And the law doesn't care if you believe in it, because it still fucking exists regardless."

"Anyway, that cathedral is pretty historic, though. Like, I think it was built in the 1600s or something and during orientation they tell freshmen that it's haunted just to spook them. When I was pledging for that sorority we were just at, they made us spend a night inside of it and, surprise, surprise, nothing fucking happened, because––" she almost says ghosts aren't real and then realizes that's not true for her anymore. Though she has yet to see a ghost, she has felt their presence a few times over the last few days––Brutus had been made up of them after all. "Well, because ghosts aren't haunting that cathedral at least."

She is about to say more on the subject when five clone-like girls approach them and Liora is about to tell them to fuck off––especially fearing that Inna is going to flex her flirting muscle once more, but one of them speaks before she can. "Hi, so, um," (god she is so nervous Liora wants to puke), "As part of our pledge process we have to serenade people by the lake... and, well, you two are the only two that we've seen 'round so..." and before either of the two women can stop them, the five pledges (no wonder they look like clones), start their song (Moon River)––one even has a ukelele that looks suspiciously familiar to Liora though she cannot place where she has seen it before.

When the girls finish, they hand the two women a bottle of tequila (that, oddly enough, has a joint taped to the side using a Pokemon-themed band-aid); then one of them casually mentions, "Your picnic would be perfect on the lake. You know just take one of the paddle boats." Which... yeah, like Liora is going to take anymore mysterious instructions from strangers (she will, however, accept the tequila––though that is not her preferred alcohol).

Liora turns to Inna once the girls have left and says, "Well that was fucking weird and what a waste of first-aid supplies... "
 
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Ah, geez. Did Inna have 'oh yeah, baby, lecture me' written on her fucking forehead? Because when she had complained about the cathedral, she had not expected a to receive a history lesson. (Maybe that had been her first mistake, though! For Liora Professional Party Pooper Trihn, staying silent would have been just wasting a rare, rare opportunity to... uhhh, flaunt her cathedral expertise, or something. Yes, cathedral expertise. More than likely, she had studied it at that precious university of hers, too-- solely to show off that she could afford to spend her time on shit like Cathedralology 101, unlike the kids who had their schedule full with, you know, stealing so they could survive for another fucking day. ...pfft, yeah, equality of opportunity her ass. Nobody had ever offered to pay for her fancy schmancy degree! Not that the blonde had ever wanted one, mind you, because tertiary education was just propaganda designed to steal your soul, but still. It was the fucking principle, you see? P r i n c i p l e, which was something the bourgeoisie class had collectively given up for mere fucking breadcrumbs, and... oh. Oh. Inna... realized that she wasn't angry, actually? Like, yeah, the bitching machine within her worked at full speed, but more than anything else, it was due to the power of the momentum it had acquired over the years-- mostly 'cause she could see, and easily at that, that Liora wasn't trying to insult her. No, her colleague just fucking talked. In Liora-ish way, which was always about 50% hostile by default, but like, it wasn't directed at her. Not this time. If anything, the woman even tried to relate to the blonde! That was what her telling anecdotes meant, right? She did it with all the grace of an elephant trying to fly, though Inna felt the attempt alone should be appreciated. Like, aliens/demons/cyborgs shouldn't be judged by the standards of well-adjusted adults!)

"Hmmm, I dunno," Inna giggled. "Maybe they just didn't want to play with a bunch of freshmen. I mean, if I were a fucking ghost? I sure as hell wouldn't haunt just, uh, anyone. No, you'd have to desecrate my place of rest big time, or piss on my grave, or admit to voting Republican within earshot. Like, can you fucking imagine how many people these ghosts must meet every day? Especially if they're like: 'Teehee, this place is haunted, let's go be fucking annoying here 'cause I have no self-preservation. If you've been here for hundreds of years, I bet it's just eyeroll-worthy. Plus, like, wouldn't you want to spend time with your ghost buds instead? If I were a ghost, I'd... hmmm..." What would she do, actually? So much time, so many fucking options! "I'd read over people's shoulder while they're writing embarrassing fanfiction," Inna finally offered. "And if I could influence shit in a tangible way? I'd send it to their fucking boss. Watch out, Bloody Mary! Inna Orlovskaya is the scariest fucking ghost in town: The Job Prospect Destroyer."

There was more because, duh, there always was more with Inna, but given that the Quintuplets came to harass them? Yeah, that had to wait. "What is it?" Inna smiled sweetly. "I'm afraid my schedule is full, ladies-- I cannot in good conscience accept another date now. If you're willing to wait, I can, like..." she erupted in laughter, for no apparent reason, "...sorry, sorry. I can give you a fucking business card, if you wait long enough for me to print it. Then you can contact me in twenty business days!" That, at least, seemed enough-- since none of her 'relationships' had lasted longer than that. Afterwards, Inna would once again be free to spread the love!

...except that, uh, that wasn't what the girls had in mind. No, they started singing. Some romantic fucking shit, too! Couldn't they sing about, like, zombies and the horrors of the WWII? Since this kept reminding Inna about the entire goddamn Liora fiasco! You know, the one in which she had confessed her stupid, stupid feelings for her and her companion had been like 'ewww, no, forget it?' Yeah, that one.

As if that wasn't enough, the girls decided it was a good idea to bully them into taking a fucking paddle boat. ...which, what the hell? Who did they think she was, some stupid marionette they could fucking control with a flick of their dainty wrists? No, no, no. She was Inna Goddamn Orlovskaya, and she took no commands from anyone, and--

"Li, please! Can we go?" the blonde heard herself say, for some fucking reason. "C'mooon, I haven't used one of these things for ages. Seriously. And, um, I think I read somewhere that if you don't use your legs in this way for a prolonged time, they might fucking fall off. No joke. It was, uhhh, a prestigious medical journal. Yes, yes, it was. Therefore, it must be true!" Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. What if her arguments were too weak? What if Liora didn't listen, and instead teleported her into the fucking Sahara? That would be bad-- there were no pubs in Sahara, as far as Inna knew. Clearly, she had to act before it was to late!

And so the blonde, uhhh, jumped into one of the boats-- into one of the boats that distinctly hadn't been made for jumping, mind you. So, long story short? It fucking tumbled. Along with its contents, which happened to be Inna!
 

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LIORA TRIHN
Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Inna really does flirt with any vaguely woman-shaped thing in a one mile radius. Liora hardly feels guilty about rejecting the blonde now if this is how easy it is for her to move onto her next fucking fling, because surely that's all Liora had been to Inna. It just does not make sense to the woman that the other could have had intentions that were beyond wanting to fuck for the night. Well, fine! Liora is obviously not bothered by this at all. She is only thinking of this because it is staring at her right in her fucking face and she can't fucking ignore it or the way her heart beat hurts while Inna tries to get more numbers right in front of her. Like is she flaunting how easy it is for her to get between someone's bedsheets? Is this is a subtle, 'Fuck you, Liora. Look at what you're missing––see what a hot commodity Inna Sex-Goddess Orlovskaya is?' If so, it's not working. Not at all. It's just reminding that it has been a while since she has felt another person's touch (sans Inna's cuddles and two medically relevant kisses and one nose kiss and several hand grabs––those all mean absolutely nothing to the dark haired woman); like, maybe she should also try finding someone to shag... To make sure she hasn't forgotten her technique? That way it won't be a waste of her time when she should probably focus herself more on saving the fucking world and preventing Armageddon (for the second time in her lives).

Anyway, since Liora is not at all bothered by any of the events happening, she pulls the knob off the tequila bottle and swallows a mouthful––which, disgusting. How Sol favors this stuff to literally anything else is beyond the woman. (No, she is not connecting the dots.) At least it will get the job done and soften some of the unnamed feelings inside of her. She takes another swallow, just for good measure, and then sets the bottle down, putting the knob back on. "Inna, you're high and now I'm on my way to being tipsy. It would be fucking irresponsible to operate a boat."

That does not stop her from rolling her eyes as Inna begins to plead with her to go on the paddle boats and there is a part of her that is impressed Inna is trying to even use logic to persuade her. As if it's that easy! (It is.) Besides, Inna doesn't have the articles handy and she is not even using proper citations, so Liora doesn't take her argument that seriously. Though she does smile at the attempt, "Do you even know the name of a single presti––wait, Inna!" Why does she even waste the energy trying to understand the blonde? Like in what universe does it make sense to hop into a boat? Did Inna forget how boats work and that they are not on solid ground? It seems like a large thing to forget, but she really does not put it past the blonde. So she watches, not even surprised, as the boat tips over along with its stupid(ly attractive) passenger.

At first, Liora does not react, because it does not seem like that big of deal. Like, sure, Inna had not put on her life vest (which she sees floating further and further away and into the middle of the lake), but who doesn't know how to swim? Even if under a boat, the boat itself isn't sinking or pulling her down and so it should be reasonably easy to get out from under it. Inna being high as a fucking kite? Well, Liora's never swam stoned, but she has swam drunk without issue, so again, she does not concern herself. Not until nearly a full minute passes with absolutely so sight of the blonde. That's when Liora's panic sets in (and she immediately regrets drinking––another mark against being spontaneous! She always knew following Inna's ways would someday bite her in the fucking ass!).

"Shit, shit, shit," she mutters, hurriedly pulling off her shoes and socks. There's no time to tie her hair up, so she just runs and dives straight into the lake. Finding the blonde, thankfully, isn't all that hard and once she has Inna secured in her arms she carries them both back to the surface. Except, when she pushes above the surface of the water, they are no longer outside. In fact, they emerge in the baptismal front of the cathedral that Inna so despises. Liora does not have the mental capacity to recognize that their surroundings are not what they should be, because she much more concerned with Inna.

Once above the water, Liora steps out of the baptismal pool, again not recognizing the sudden change of scenery, and pulls Inna out along with her. "Inna?" Gently, she pushes back Inna's hair, cups her face with one hand, and then moves to put an ear over her chest to check her heartbeat. (It sounds kind of nice actually. Like listening to your favorite song for the first time and knowing that you'll never get tired of it. Not that she is going to investigate that thought any further.) "You're supposed to put the fucking lifejacket on before you even get into the boat," she mumbles, knowing it's not the best thing to say, but for some reason it's all Liora can think of to express her concern and utter horror. Plus, she's still trying to figure out what sort of medical attention Inna needs; she'll concern herself with why they're in the cathedral––wait.
 
So, you remember how Inna had cursed fire? How she had resented its searing touch, dancing so carelessly across her skin? Well, it turned out that water wasn't much better. 'Complete opposites' her fucking ass! (...'cause water burned, too. It burned differently, with its heat focus inwards-- with these invisible fucking nails scratching, scratching, scratching at her lungs, till they were stained with blood. Which, fucking ouch!) Now, normally? Inna might have remembered that you weren't supposed to flail while in water. (Something, something, body mass, something, something hydrostatic pressure. Basically, via some black magic shit, water was supposed to carry you as long as you didn't struggle-- which fucking sounded fake, if she were to be entirely honest, but it had entered the domain of common knowledge and the blonde had to admit it probably wasn't complete nonsense. Like, that sort of thing was easily disproven, wasn't it? ...unless the adage had been invented to create more corpses for the Loch Ness monster to eat, and the whole thing had been covered up by the NWO. No, seriously! It made sense, if you abandoned outdated concepts such as 'logic' or 'causality'. Maybe the Loch Ness monster was keeping the world fucking hostage, and without those corpses, she'd just devour them all. Perhaps those sacrifices were everything that stood between them and the end of the world as they knew it!)

...but, anyway. The reality was that Inna didn't remember the advice-- mostly because it was kinda difficult to ransack your brain for solutions to complex problems when you were fucking drowning. The sensation that her lungs were about to burst? Yeah, that was, uh, distracting. About as distracting as a goddamn plane taking off right next to your ear!

(She was sinking. Where, exactly? To the bottom of the lake, or into herself? Somehow, those two things seemed to be one and the same, and everything was fucking cold, cold and blue, which, why couldn't it be purple? Purple was nicer. Less scary! ...that color didn't feel like drowning, but like, Inna was drowning, so at least this wasn't false fucking advertising. Yay for honesty, she guessed! Hmmm, hmmm. When this clusterfuck was over with, would fish eat her corpse? That would be nice, sort of. For the first time in her miserable life, something would truly want her! Which would be a pleasant fucking change of pace, all things considered.)

Blurry, blurry, blurry. Was that what it felt like? As in, dying. (Inna had kinda imagined it would be a grander affair, with at least three explosions and maybe an alien ship or two. Instead, it seemed to be this... cold nothingness, really, that was gradually pushing the pain away. Which, again, yay! Pain receptors were a totally useless body function, anyway. Now, Inna would be happier if she lost it without also losing her life in the process, but, you know, unless you were a millionaire, you never got what you wanted in this shit, shit world. The flavor if disappointment tasted familiar on her tongue-- bitter like coffee, except that unlike coffee, it fucking sucked. Sucked!)

Slowly, Inna was drifting away, as if carried by stream, and shit was getting better-- comfy, almost. The only thing the blonde was missing? Her favorite fucking blanket with giraffes! ...except that, shortly after, something within her broke. That something seemed to break in her lungs too, and the fucking shards got stuck in there, which, shit. Had it always been this difficult to breathe, or was this yet another phase of Fate's 'Let's Torture Inna' five year plan? Man, of all things to copy from the Soviet Union! (Stupid, politically illiterate fucks. Everyone fucking knew that gulags had been the best part, hands down!)

...and then, then Inna opened her eyes. That alone wouldn't have been bad, but the coughing fit? The way she spat out so much water it could easily fill the fucking Aegean sea? Yeah, that wouldn't make it into her Top Ten: Favorite Memories edition. Not even remotely. "Li..." she coughed, with so much fervor it felt like her body was trying to evict her lungs for not paying their fucking rent. "Li... what... what happened? Where are we?" At this point, wondering why the hell they were being transported to the most bitch-ass places imaginable seemed like a giant waste of energy, though the blonde couldn't help herself. Like!!! Hadn't she been drowning just seconds before? Not that Inna missed that part, but she had been drowning in a lake, and this... this wasn't a lake. (A great analysis, yeah, but give her a fucking break. For the nth time in the last few days, Inna had almost died! That just... fucked with your mental faculties, man. It really, really did!)

"Is this... the cathedral?" Inna furrowed her brow. "Are we here to burn it down?" ...something told her that wasn't the most accurate interpretation, though. There was just something in the air, you see? A weird kind of tension, much like that feeling you got a second after you realized that you reeeeally should have turned that fucking gas off before you lit your cigarette. "I don't like this. Let's... let's hightail it out of here, Li."

"...Liora," a woman's voice whispered. "Please, please. Help me. My eyes are sealed. Let me see." Oookay, so Inna felt like she was repeating herself here, but what the fucking fuck? Disembodied voices hadn't bothered before and she would prefer it if it stayed that way, mind you, and-- oh. Oh, alright. The good news? The voice wasn't disembodied. The bad news? It belonged to some chick tied to the altar, with her fucking ribcage torn open. (Her heart was on full display, beating wildly. Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud! If she was bothered by the tiny detail of, you know, most of her torso straight up missing, the girl was hiding it pretty fucking well.)

"My blindfold," she begged. "Please, remove it. With wool over my eyes, I cannot protect my beloved students." ...that was, uh, an interesting set of priorities to be sure. At least for someone who should have been fucking dead!
 

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LIORA TRIHN
Liora's heart soars in relief when Inna opens her eyes, she doesn't even mind the fact that she's coughing up so much water––mostly because she knows that means that she's alive and well (or as well as she can be for someone who just almost drowned). And as if overtaken by a force or a ghost (named Vie), she wraps her arms around Inna and pulls her in close. "Shit, you scared me again, Inna," she whispers, though she also finds it in herself to smile, because of all the instances where she has saved her companion, this has been the most normal reason. There's something grounding about that, like maybe their lives can just go back to being normal minus hating each other and minus being hired killers for the mafia. "You almost drowned after you tried hopping into that fucking paddle boat––what would you do without me?" she jokes, holding her for just a second longer before she lets go. She decides to not question why she had so eagerly embraced her when most people know that Liora is about as comforting as a cactus. (Something, something, it's different with Inna.)

Though she doesn't laugh, she does do that half-laugh that people do when they're trying to be polite––except, Liora makes it seem genuine, because the thought of actually burning down the cathedral is an amusing one. Not one she condones, because it seems pretty needless, but in a different context she might entertain the idea. "No, I actually..." she looks around, brows furrowed together, because she doesn't even remember teleporting them. This is someone else's doing. "I actually don't know why we're here."

That implied question gets answered fairly quickly and it's not even an answer that she wants. When she hears her names, which is odd enough as it is because lately strangers have insisted on calling her Vie, she turns around as a chill creeps up her spine and causes her hackles to raise. Everything about this seems wrong. Seems so obnoxiously wrong and ominous that Liora should want to join Inna in that desire to run. But she can't. At first because she is frozen in place, taking in the violent horror in front of her––like, most of what she has seen these past few days has been terrifying and for some reason this display is likely what will haunt her the most. It stops her heart as she watches the one beat in the sacrificial woman's open chest. Then, once settled, it hammers in her chest with the usual speed her body reserves for uncomfortable encounters with her mother.

'We should definitely fucking hightail it out of here,' she wants to say, but her lips are sealed. Nothing comes to her as she enters this trance like state. Suddenly, the rumors of this cathedral being haunted seem staggeringly true. Now recognizing her surroundings she can also hear the faint whispers of the souls in the graveyard behind the church. She can hear the ones who are lingering inside of the chapel, lining the pews. All of them seem to be calling to her––not with words, but something in her body reacts to their energy and to their pull. In the back of her mind, she can feel Declan trying to call out to her, but it's such a faint whisper and it gets lost in this cacophony of other voices. She even forgets about Inna, who she had just been holding not mere seconds ago.

She rises from her crouched positioned and walks towards the woman. This is wrong. She knows she needs to turn around. She knows this is bad news. She knows that she should not remove this pleading woman's mask. But something about how she calls out to her, to Liora, something about that tethers the woman to whoever this is. She should not trust her. 'Trust no bitch, remember?' Except she doesn't. She doesn't remember much of anything, just the call of her name, the plea from the sacrifice, and her overwhelming sense of duty to free her. "Help you see?" she repeats, her voice faraway and hardly Liora-like.

"Yes, yes, Liora, help me see. Remove my blindfold. I can help you see too," the woman says. "I can help you see everything, Liora. Don't you want to know why you did it?" (Yes she does want to know, so desperately too.) "Please, free me from this wool, allow me to protect my students, and I shall protect you too," she croons, her voice still calm as if she has all the time in the world to convince Liora to pull the blindfold from her eyes. And maybe she does.

Without full awareness of what she is doing, Liora feels her hands grasp the blindfold, completely missing the woman's Chesire smile and her pointed teeth or the way that her her nails turn into claws, growing longer and sharper the closer she gets to having the fabric removed. Once the blindfold is discarded, whatever spell had gripped Liora is released and she stares down at the woman in confusion. Though the woman looks less and less like a woman and more like a monster. Though her voice is sweet and lulls Liora once more back into a trance when she says, "Thank you, sweet Liora––you are such a good student. Would you help me with these bonds?"

And once Liora obeys? Because she has no other choice having lost control of herself? The altar beneath the monstress cracks as she rises from her shackles and hellish beings below seem to be trying to claw their way through the gate. "Liora, won't you open this for me? My students are almost here and they need new souls. Be a good girl, Liora."
 
...ah. Would it be, like, inappropriate right now to say to Liora that she gave the best hugs? 'Cause Inna felt it to be true, with the way her companion's arms wrapped around her. (There was this sensation of warmth and belonging, and all the other sappy bullshit the blonde didn't care to name, but one of them towered above all-- this unshakable, overwhelming conviction that this was exactly how things should be, at all times. That maybe, maybe this feeling was what she'd been chasing for for all those years, without ever realizing it. In this moment, though? It seemed so, so obvious! Even more obvious than the fact that aliens had fucked with area 51, or that trees didn't actually exist. Liora or Vie, Vie or Liora-- the distinction mattered very little in the light of the realization that, yes, these hands had been made for holding her. ...and for doing other things to her as well, wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Hopefully!) "I..." Inna's cheeks turned scarlet at the, uh, helpful mental imagery her brain provided, though that didn't prevent her from trying to answer. No, Liora couldn't be robbed of her revolutionary fucking insights! Like, she had saved her, right? Multiple times by now. That must have meant that, on some level, she valued her expertise. So, not getting the precious Inna-style commentary out of this would be like buying a lollipop only to discover the delicious, chewy part at the centre was missing!

"I'd be dead, probably. And like, a lot of people would enjoy that fucking development, so I'm glad it didn't happen." ...yeah, because making other people happy had always been just an unfortunate byproduct of Inna's decisions-- the blonde tried to avoid that at all costs, but just like you couldn't make everyone happy, rarely could you piss everyone off in one fell swoop, too. Stupid people with their stupid, often opposing agendas! "But, I guess I'm also glad that I'm here with you," Inna admitted. "Like, not here here, but with you in general. That's nice. Nicer than I expected it to be, which... isn't fucking much, granted, though yeah. If I have to do this bullshit, I'm happy I have to do it with you, Li." Oh shit, shit, shit! Wasn't that a little too much honesty at the same time? All her life, Inna had believed that sincerity was the kind of drug you had to administer carefully, and now she was fucking overdosing! (Also, the rest of Inna's body to Inna's heart: 'calm the fuck down, bitch.' Like??? If this continued, her blood would be so oversaturated with oxygen her veins would straight up burst!)

Needless to say, however, Fate itself took care of that problem-- Fate in the form of a blindfold-wearing woman. That sight dampened all the excitement she might have felt, alright! In fact, it fucking sent her heart straight into her stomach. "Uhh... Li, doesn't it strike you as an obviously Bad IdeaTM? Like, I'm not a fucking doctor, but this chick is way too chill with what's happening to her. Those are some fucked up priorities, dude. Let's maybe not obey some fucking rando who seems at least demon-adjacent?" Again, Inna wasn't comfortable with this whole 'voice of reason' shtick, but someone had to do it, and Liora obviously wasn't gonna. (Which, what? Was she into gore, or something? Not that Inna judged people with specific tastes, but like, there was a time and a place for everything. Call her a coward, but flirting with a Vessel of Ancient Evil seemed a little too much. Way too much, in fact. ...and yeah, if even Inna Orlovskaya, the Queen of Irresponsibility, thought you should tone it down, then that was how you knew you had truly fucked up!)

Except that Liora didn't listen. No, she went and... did what the bitch wanted instead? W h a t? After like, five seconds of knowing her? Inna had had to suffer through years of hostility to get to the sort-of-friendship they had, and this demonic fucking fucker bypassed all of that within seconds just because she, get it, asked nicely. Wow. The blonde had expected a lot, but not a betrayal of this magnitude! Alright, alright, fine. If that was how this was going to be, then the stupid bitch would fucking burn! Seething with anger, Inna reached for her powers, and-- nothing. Where had once been fire, there were only ashes, warm but dead.

"Oh, come on, Inna," the demoness revealed her numerous teeth in a smile. "Follow Liora's example here and be a good, obedient girl. Don't you see how happy she is, without all that terrible uncertainty? With me, she knows exactly what to do, at all times. There are no doubts in Liora's world anymore. Wouldn't you want to know what that is like?"

...again, what? Did the idiot think there were doubts in her world? Like, hellooo? Was she even talking about Inna Awesome Orlovskaya anymore? 'Cause, in this moment, the blonde certainly wasn't being smothered by uncertainty of all things. Nah, mate. (The eyes were to be blamed here, she fucking knew that. The last time her powers had been blocked? Eyes had been involved as well, which, what an adorable coincidence! Except that no, it wasn't. Sooo, the main priority? To get Liora out of there, and fast. ...Liora, who had apparently been hypnotized by that ugly-ass thing. Ugh. Why couldn't they enjoy one (1) day of not having to deal with supernatural bullshit? Superheroes should form a fucking union, since Fate was working them to the goddamn bone.)

"Oh," Inna smiled, "no need to worry. I know what I have to do, too." Yes, yes, ladies and gentlemen, the blonde had a plan! One that had been formed, like, three seconds ago, but that was an unimportant detail. That she had it was what truly mattered here, right? Defiantly, she took off her shoe, stuck her tongue out in what seemed to be pure concentration, aaaand, score! The shoe hit Liora right in the head, as desired.

"Look at me, Liora! I'm here, breaking... uhh, shoe-throwing laws. It's illegal in this fucking state, but oh, who shall stop me? If only there was a well-intentioned citizen who'd put an end to my rampage." Just as quickly, the next shoe followed-- this time, though, Inna threw it at the demoness. "Wow, ran out of shoes. I guess I'll have to go to the local fucking cemetery to desecrate some corpses via stealing their footwear." ...because, if her rule abiding nature had gotten her into this mess, surely it could break the conditioning, too. Shock therapy, baby! Now, would Liora follow her or not?
 
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LIORA TRIHN
Liora's mind has tucked her away into a different place. One full of warmth and safety. A place she has never known and yet it feels so much like a home she has wanted that she does not mind how obviously fake the fixtures of this puzzled memory are. It's like she can see all of the cracks and holes in the narrative being displayed to her, but the idea that she can live in this warm place forever? It's so overwhelming for Liora, who has never been courageous enough to acknowledge what her life has lacked. Instead, trapped in her own head, she watches, with a hand over her chest, as an unrecognized woman she wants to call mother coddles and coos at a baby she assumes is herself. A voice whispers to her, "Liora, don't you want to stay here forever? I can keep you safe. I can make you happy. In here, you are safe, child. Just do as I command and this can all be yours, my little sweetling."

"Yes... but I'm forgetting something, aren't I? I wasn't here before..."
the inner Liora says, trying to reason with all this comfort that she wants to believe is real; she really so desperately does and yet... The part of her not fully under this spell knows this is wrong. "There's someone else... Someone I'm forgetting––I can't leave her––"

"Oh, child, do not worry about the outside; the outside is no longer your concern anymore. Stay here, with your mother and remember what her warmth and safety meant. Stay, Liora. Be a good girl and stay. Here."


On the outside, Liora nods to the commands that she is given. Her hands raise over the crack in the altar and she can feel the spirits under her trying to shoot out of the portal, she can feel the restless ones in the pews ready for whatever magic she about to release. Her lips begin to move and she recites words from a language she has never spoken before. And at the final verse, something breaks her concentration. She stumbles backwards as Inna's shoe hits her head, but still under the spell, she doesn't react to the pain and doesn't even appear bewildered; instead she starts to get back up to finish the task and open the ever growing rift. However just as she turning back, the demon is struck and whatever concentration she had needed to keep Liora locked away inside of herself is broken. In that moment, Inna's voice returns to her and, entirely confused, she looks over at the shoeless blonde who is running towards the exit. While a strange sense of loss sits heavy on her chest, there is little time to spend on her feelings since the monstress is now in full rampage mode.

The monstress nearly doubles in size and lets out a screech as she launches her mangled body towards the blonde––no longer focusing on the woman she must think is still tucked away. That's a mistake on her end, because Liora, forgetting about the sword on her hip (listen, there is a lot happening and sensory overload is a thing so chill), grabs one of the excessively ornate candelabras and slams it into the spirit's backside. The flames lick her skin and seem hungry for her grey flesh, but Liora does not spend anymore time assessing the damage that she has caused. While still out of sorts and trying to figure out how she went from embracing Inna to standing near the altar, reciting some spell or curse, she decides that racing to catch up with the blonde is far more paramount.

Once Liora catches up to her, she grabs her hand, giving her a squeeze to let her know that she's back from wherever she had gone, and takes them towards the graveyard––it feels like a safe decision for the woman who can control and manipulate spirits. Naturally, their latest magical enemy follows suit, screaming curses at them as she flies out of the cathedral, now sporting six bat-like wings. "For fuck's sake," Liora mumbles. "Um, shit––kind of don't think strategic fucking retreat is going to work if this bitch is following us," the thought of perhaps sicking this demon on a frat does come to mind, briefly, but she doesn't get to voice that since the monster, who is clutching her entrails to keep them all in place (yuck), distracts her by talking again.

"Liora, dearest, come back––come back home. Come back to mother," she croons, flying over the two women. She might have sounded saccharine too were she not so obviously creepy and evil.

This time, while she still feels the pull to bring herself inward and return to that false memory, Liora holds onto two truths: (1) her mother had never held her like that and never felt warm, so she knows that inward place is a lie, and (2) there is a warmth she knows is real––and she's holding her hand. She stays with Inna, remembering how her earlier admission made her feel all sorts of funny but in an oddly pleasant way. That feeling still lingers, too, so she holds onto that realness with everything she has and shouts at the demon, "Get a new fucking trick, bitch!"

Perhaps, she shouldn't have suggested that, because the demon takes a page from Liora's past life and suddenly corpses are rising from the ground beneath them. (Which, not fucking fair!)
 
Okay, okay, okay. So, Liora was following her, right? Great news! As always, Inna's plan was working-- which was honestly the main reason why the blonde didn't resort to outlining her actions in advance more often. Like, where would be the fun in winning 100% of the time? No, the rest of the world needed to be granted a semblance of chance, at least, otherwise all of her enemies would just collectively commit suicide. (...sadly for them, though? Her bullshitting skills also happened to be fucking awesome! Ah, being her enemy must have sucked, man. Kind of like defying god himself, except way less cool because the blonde was also hot and fun. No, really-- opposing her must have suggested some tragically shit taste. Putting them out of their misery seemed like a kinder option than letting them live in their delusions, blind like worms and even less useful. ...hmmm. Maybe she should change her job description to 'involuntary euthanasia provider?' 'Cause the death she was giving them really was fucking good!)

Anyway, Inna ran. The monstress was chasing her, which was one of the reasons, but the other? ...well. Technically, Liora may have joined her on her jog because her freaky mistress had commanded her to rip her eyes out of her sockets, and that wasn't a development she was particularly interested in. (And, no, the blonde didn't really have a plan for what to do in that case. Maybe she'd lure her companion away from the bitch, tie her to some tree and then wait for the spell to wear off? Like, there had to be an expiration date on that shit. Hmmm, hmmm. If the worst came to the worst, forcing her to watch Naruto was also an option! The show was shit tier, Inna knew, but that was kinda the point-- to replace one type of brainwashing with another. The prospect of Liora trying to perform jutsu made her cringe, but like, better than her fucking murdering her, right? ...huh. The thought of that felt intensely familiar, kinda like a group you'd listened to as a teen and then forgotten about, though no, she wasn't going to examine it. Nuh uh, not opening that fucking Pandora's box!)

Thankfully, though, there was no need for more convoluted plans. The second Liora gripped her hand? All of her doubts dissolved, as quickly as the average body in the concentrated nitric acid. Her partner in crime was back, baby! Except that-- oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Why the hell couldn't these supernatural dumbasses leave them alone?! What kind of fucked up company did they work for that they hadn't received the usual PSA about stalking being a bad thing? And now she was also cosplaying Liora's goddamn mother. Talk about being invasive, man! "Return back to your grave, Ms. Grotesque, before I fucking send you there," Inna threatened. "Trust me, it'll be less painful for you if you just lie in your fucking ditch and eat dirt." So fucking what if she re-animated some corpses? Pffft! Everyone knew that zombie users always lost in the end-- probably because zombies weren't known for being the most brilliant of strategists. Like, even fucking Chett could beat the average revenant at chest, which spoke volumes about their abilities. Plus, didn't all the stories claim that the undead were particularly vulnerable to fire? Time to find out whether the lore was a steaming pile of bullshit, Inna guessed!

...or not. Remember how the spark within her had gone out? How the EyesTM had extinguished it? So, yeah, a tiny problem-- the monstress was still watching, with all the fervor of the NSA agent monitoring your internet activity. Ugh! How was this fucking fair? Inna was but one sexy, sexy woman, and now she was expected to deal with a whole goddamn army.

"See?" the monstress laughed as the corpses drew nearer, their mouths hanging agape. (Mouths full of sharp, sharp teeth. ...shit. Would they fucking try to eat them? Like, one would have thought that the undead didn't need nourishment anymore, but all the stories agreed on that detail, and-- and Inna just didn't want to be devoured alive, okay? A mainstream fucking desire, yes, but for once, she shared it!) "There is no point in resisting, Liora. In the end, mommy is always right. Mommy is also forgiving, though, so I am willing to give you a second chance. Will you kill that blonde harlot for me? If so, I shall welcome you back, with open arms. You can have that beautiful feeling of certainty once again!"

Ooookay, so was there any underlying reason for literally everyone forcing Liora to kill her? A pattern, maybe? Because the tendency was becoming disturbing as fuck, and-- oh.

Oh, indeed. Inna had never really believed in all that ~spiritual~ nonsense, but it really felt as if her brain began blooming-- not that it was supposed to be doing that, mind you, but like, it hadn't asked her. (Green was all she could see, really. Green, and connections that resembled roots, all tangled, and... huh. Was it just her, or did the strongest thread lead back to Liora? Oh yeah, it sure as fuck did! ...memories from yesterday returned her, shrouded in the kind of intensity that straight up burned, and in that moment, Inna knew exactly what it did. Well, at least she hoped to!)

'Li?' the blonde thought, as loudly as she could. 'Those fucking eyes. That's how she's doing this! Remember Remus? Yeah, it's that brand of bullshit. So, here's the plan-- play along. Seize me and bring me closer to her, except that then, we fucking stab her eyes out. What about that, huh?'
 

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LIORA TRIHN
Honestly, Liora is fed up with these stupid magic powers that never fucking work when they're supposed to! Like what the fuck is the point of having these supposedly great gifts if every adversary they are met with seems to have access to the magic fucking off button?! "Inna, we are picking up guns the second this shit is over because I am tired of these unreliable magic fucking super powers," she mutters as she scoots just a bit closer to her companion the closer the corpses get to closing in on them. She'll even get them silver bullets if she has to––anything to level the playing field, because so far their swords are shit and their powers are bunk. The expectations are far too impossible. Even if Liora enjoys exceeding impossible expectations she likes to do so in areas where she is at least somewhat qualified.

Also, similar to the blonde, Liora is wondering why everyone keeps suggesting that she kill Inna. As if the suggestion doesn't leave her feeling like a sack of sand has been dropped onto her chest each time! Why are they all so insistent that she repeat Vie's mistakes? (Because she will not claim this as her own when she barely knows anything about that ghost––and she'd know a lot more if she dared to look further inward, but that feels like crawling under barbed wire and praying you won't get chewed up.) It starts a fire so hot she swears she'd burn the whole fucking world down if that were in her power set––so thankfully, for the world, it isn't. She just wishes these fucking magic fucks would stop bringing it up, because she will never kill Inna. (Not again.) Inna is her only ally in this shit show and she's about the only person that Liora is starting to trust, so she's not going to break that because some mangled mutant bat want thinks she can exploit her mommy issues (that do not exist).

Despite that, despite the bitch trying to get her to return to that place of safety and certainty... That place where she felt accepted for just being who she is––she knows it's a lie and she is not one to live in her delusions. Not when something better is standing right next to her. She's about to yell and scream her head off like some bratty teenager, which probably wouldn't've done either of them any good considering she cannot access her abilities to change the allegiance of these zombies, but Inna's literal train of thought running through her head stops her. Oh, yeah, she forgot about that mental back channel they had somehow opened earlier. 'Christ, are you sure?' Something about even pretending she'd change allegiances on Inna makes her uncomfortable. Not because she believes she ever will, but even playing along stokes the guilt of her past self. 'Alright, alright––I won't hurt you, ever,' she thinks, maybe to reassure herself more than Inna. It's a weird thing to add, too, all things considered, but she can't really help herself. She has to make this promise.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, clearing her head of all her worries. She drops every emotion from her face and becomes stoic as she draws her blade and turns towards the bitch-creature. "Yes, mother, forgive me, please," she says in a faux-pleading tone. She then grabs Inna's arm, giving her bicep a small almost unnoticeable squeeze as she brings her blade up to Inna's throat, careful to not even let Declan touch her, and walks them towards the demon. The zombies part as she approaches, convinced that Liora is not going to harm their current mistress.

"Liora," the demon says, and Liora has to fight the urge to drift back into that honeyed distortion of her life, "I knew you were always faithful to mother. I am so proud of you."

Those words practically still her heart and again, she has to resist the spell and ignore the pain it causes in doing so––because her mother has never said those words to her. Has never praised her or let her know that she is enough. (No, she only offered criticism and berated all of Liora's efforts to succeed. "Really, Liora? Surely, I thought you would be better than groveling for my approval. How childish... How disappointing. Though I'm not surprised, you always have been desperate and insecure. Everyone can see it.") She clenches her jaw as that memory resurfaces––as hurtful as it is to recall, even if she wants to say that she isn't bothered by her mother's accurate assessment, it does help her remember that warmth is not her mother (and never will be––not that Liora is ready to accept that). "Mother, come closer. I want to show you how truly devoted I am; bathe in her blood with me," she says, trying to think of some fucked up line she might say if she were to actually succumb to this spell.

The monstress, perhaps splitting too many of her braincells with the zombies, smiles and flies closer to the women, "Of course, my sweetling––let us feast on her flesh together."

That thought nearly causes Liora to barf on principle alone, but she resists and once she is sure the demon is within range, she motions as if she were going to slit Inna's throat and then instead swings her arm outwards and slashes the monster across her eyes. While she screams and sends the zombies towards the two women, Liora feels her powers return to her––she even feels Declan beginning to stir once more and vibrating in her hand. Though before she can do anything with this resurgence, the monstress tackles her, sending her backwards into some rich person's fancy tombstone. "You bitch," she howls, fingers wrapped around Liora's throat, "You owe me a new pair of eyes!"
 
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I won't hurt you, ever. The words echoed in her ears, over and over-- kind of like an annoying tune you had heard in some fucking commercial and couldn't get out of your head as a result, except that, you know, pleasant. So, not like a commercial at all! ...aside from it being a fucking lie, too. As in, hadn't Liora hurt her already? Wasn't it her first impulse whenever she didn't know what to do with her own feelings, actually? To shatter whatever fragile sense of peace they'd managed to build and then slit her fucking throat with the shard? It was like Vie and Ivy all over again, really, and Inna dreaded that ending so, so much, and-- No. No, that didn't fucking happen! Liora wouldn't lie to you. Like, why the fuck would she have done that? This was a woman who would pay decent money for learning what her weaknesses were, mainly because twisting the knife in her wounds seemed to be her most beloved hobby. Had she really betrayed her in the past, wouldn't she have been, like, proud of it? Inna's head would have made for a fine fucking trophy, that much was obvious. (And the recent shift in their relationship? Ummm, hahaha! That meant nothing in that regard, of course. Inna and Liora had signed the Nemesis contract, and it was still valid till the next year at least. So, officially speaking, they were still enemies! No need for her to hide her triumph, then. Nope, nope, nope. That would be like receiving a medal from the president of the universe and feeling ashamed of it, which was so unlike Liora that Inna would truly have to work with the assumption that aliens had fucking replaced her with her clone. Well, that, or that they'd tested a new type of lobotomy on her companion!)

"Oh no," Inna whined and covered her eyes with her free hand dramatically. (Yeah, ladies and gentlemen, time to flex her highschool drama club skills! The blonde had been a rising star back then, and could have conquered the fucking Hollywood with some practice, but nooo, the teacher just had had to kick her out-- something about her 'destroying the props' and 'not remembering her lines'. Like??? That was an excuse so fucking transparent Inna could use it as glass in her windows! Didn't all the successful actors re-interpret their lines so that they reflected the modern times? Lady Macbeth would definitely say "fuck off, little bitch" if she lived in the modern times, Inna was sure. So, her current theory? The teacher had been unable to cope with her fading beauty, and the presence of someone as gorgeous as Inna had been like a fucking kryptonite to her. Yes, yes, that had to be it!) "Whatever shall I do?" she continued to chew the scenery as Liora dragged her forward. "Betrayed by my sole ally! Ah, woe is me, truly. All hope has been lost. Let my property, humble as it is, be redistributed among the children of the working class." Wow, what a splendid, believable portrayal! Maybe Inna should pursue an acting career, now that her mafia days were officially over. Like, it couldn't be that hard, could it? You just made a fucking clown out of yourself in front of the camera and then pretended it was an actual job you deserved to be paid for. Being adored by millions must have been a tremendous burden, but Inna would bear it with unshakable fucking dignity!

Bathe in my blood, pffft. The fact that Inna managed not to laugh was a testament to her acting talent-- she had to bite her own cheeks from the inside to prevent that, but sometimes, you simply had to reach for less than elegant solutions. (Blah blah blah, something about ends justifying the means. Tragic as it was, you just had to sacrifice the notion that you were literally perfect at times. ...if this didn't prove her devotion to the cause, then fucking nothing could!)

As per usual, shit happened fast. In one moment, she was still being dragged towards the monstress-- in another, the supernatural bitch was bleeding from the spot where her eyes had used to be. Tables sure turned quickly, didn't they? And, sometimes, a heavy stone table fell directly on your ugly fucking head! "What, you think she'd backstab me for your shitty cosplay?" Inna smirked as the creature howled in pain. "Me, Inna Awesome Orlovskaya? Yet another denizen of the Delusional Town, I see. Had you said that in advance, I would have brought a fashionable fucking straightjacket for you!" Now, a normal opponent would have acknowledged their loss. A check mate typically meant that, you see? In a civilized fucking society, at least. 'Losing with grace' apparently was a concept the bitch had never heard of, though, because instead of going 'gg', she fucking tackled Liora. As in, her Liora. Not that there were many Lioras to go around, but for some reason, Inna felt the need to clarify!

...before anger devoured the last pitiful remains of her reasoning abilities, anyway. All of a sudden, Inna fucking saw red-- because this fucking dumbass with a single trick up her sleeve dared to lay her finger on Liora. On Liora, who had kinda turned into her emotional support human! 'Take me,' Haenel whispered into her ear, and for once, Inna was on board with her bullshit. (Good, old-fashioned asskicking was in order, it seemed.)

"Hey, bitch!" the blonde shouted as she unsheathed her blade, which... happened to be on fire? Oh, cool. Was that, like, a bonus for not throwing Haenel into the fucking dumpster? Anyway, this seemed like a prime opportunity to test the new functionality out. "I'm your fucking opponent here."

Needless to say, though? Inna didn't exactly wait for her to realize the extent of danger she was in. Like, that was the sort of dumbassery a hero would commit, and that wasn't a label she'd use to describe herself. Nah, mate! Cemeteries were full of idiots who insisted on outdated concepts such as 'chivalry' already, so Inna didn't feel like joining them. Just, not today, Satan.

So, what did she do instead? She jumped on her back and jammed the hot steel into her fucking neck. There was a disgusting, squishy sound, along with the stench of burnt meat, but that couldn't stop Inna. Oh no, not a chance! With great gusto, she pulled Haenel out and did it again, again and again, as the bitch thrashed around and tried to shake her off. (Man, bull rides were a piece of cake in comparison to this! For someone who was being murdered, the monstress had a lot of energy.) "Didn't your mother teach you that stealing is fucking bad?" Inna shouted before delivering another blow. "Grow your own eyes if you want them so much! Or, like, harvest them from the corpses, I guess. The point is: don't fucking touch my friend, freakazoid!"
 

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LIORA TRIHN
'Shit,' Liora thinks, not really afraid that this could be the moment where she will die, but definitely knowing that this is not an ideal position to be in. Even while the ugly bitch is putting a disturbing amount of pressure on her windpipe and her vision is starting to spot, not to mention the talon that is pressing just under her eye and drawing blood, Liora does not panic about dying. It's either her fighting spirit, or her belief that ugly bitches don't deserve to take her out, or even her assurance that Inna won't let her die that settle any nerves she might have regarding an untimely end. Because of that, she continues to fight back by wrapping her hands around the monstress's wrists and making a weak attempt to pry her off her person. She scratches and tugs at the demon’s arms, her strength leaving her as each second passes. Just as she feels herself fading, her body miraculously falls to the ground––for reasons she has not yet identified. She hits the grass with her knees, palms stretching out to catch her before she collapses to her side, sucking in oxygen like it's the sweetest thing she has ever tasted (which is distinctly untrue, because Inna's lips have that honor). While the world spins around her, she catches a glimpse of Inna riding the demon bitch, stabbing her multiple times, and... and.

And claiming Liora as a friend. Now, as has been stated numerous times, Liora doesn't really have friends. To her, a study session or a business meeting count as hanging out and socializing, and even then she can understand that those people are not necessarily friends. She would usually consider friends a nuisance unless they have means to help her achieve her ambitions. And when Inna claims her? She realizes how wrong she has been about friendship, because she doesn't necessarily see Inna as someone who can help her reach her goals––not that she even knows what those are anymore––but she realizes the value of a person beyond what they can tangibly provide. And Inna? Well, Inna is someone who she cares so fiercely about and admires in spite of all of her annoying quirks; in fact, she has come to appreciate those quirks, because for all the ways that they are different, she recognizes some of those differences as complementary strengths. (And that's a big revelation for the woman who habitually assumes anyone with a different brand of thinking is inherently stupid and useless.) Liora recognizes, too, that what she appreciates the most about her partner is that she makes her feel safe and secure.

This realization spurs something in the woman as she rises back to standing and notices all the corpses going berserk as their mistress is being stabbed to death (which she has to admit does look incredibly badass). She grabs Declan from the ground and readies to defend herself and her companion, but her sword speaks to her before she can even mow down a single zombie. 'Liora, you can shift their allegiance and let them rest again. To do so, you must be calm so that the spirits know you will lay them to rest, peacefully. Then concentrate drawing their restless energy towards you; you will begin to see the threads connecting them to the demoness, once you see that create a new thread for them to take using your calm––they are not inherently malevolent and want a head who promises rest once they have completed their task. When you have created the thread, you'll have to intuit the rest. I believe in you, Liora; you've done this a thousand times before.'

Ugh.
If there is one thing that Liora hates, it's having to rely on intuition, because intuition is not a concrete factor. It makes her nervous to rely on something that can be false. (At least with teleporting it's as easy as imagining or focusing on something that is real and attainable.) Still, she would rather not fight all these zombies, so she tries her sword's method. With her hands outstretched, she begins to steady her breathing and imagines a body of water stilling after a disruption. She also thinks of Inna, who, even if she can send her blood pressure into the sky, has been her peace for the past week; who has stuck by her side and reassured her throughout this weird process of unlocking potent magical abilities that they have little to no control over. Just as Declan said, she starts feel and see the corpses' tethered energy connected to the thrashing demoness and she begins to create a thread of her own. She pictures it in her mind and imagines that it is connected to a soft cushion for these spirits to rest. Though a few corpses grab onto her tether, the rest ignore her and continue to lurch forward. 'Where else may a spirit want to reside, Liora? Cushions are nice, but what else may bring them peace?' the sword asks, pushing her pupil further.

She remembers the place that the monstress had taken her when she had been tucked away and remembers how comforting it had been despite the fact that she could not fully accept that memory. Though she cannot know these zombies' lives for certain, she imagines that perhaps they want that warm place to reside as well. Believing that it must also come from a real place, since that fakeness had not fully convinced her, she runs through a short list of moments in her life where she has felt comfort. Unsurprisingly, again, the most potent image seems to be her moment in the café with Inna; so she holds onto that feeling, not specifically trying to convince the zombies to spend their rest in some Italian café, but focusing on the comfort she had then. She offers the restless souls the picture of spending time with a dear one––whatever that may look like to them. And more and more begin to gather and take her thread. Once she has a majority of them on her leash, she slowly brings her hands down, exhaling, and releases the souls. The bodies drop to the ground in a thunder of thuds and where only five or so remain, Liora feels on the brink of passing out. It probably shows in that she leans on one of the statues, too weak to support herself.
 
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Inna had always assumed her life would be extraordinary. Like, why wouldn't it? Rarely did it happen that someone as charming and brilliant and talented didn't leave their footprint on the world history-- duh, that would be like a giant fucking meteor striking the Earth and everybody being like 'wow, what a bore, let's watch that new Netflix series instead.' Which, spoiler alert, wasn't what tended to happen! So yeah, there had been no doubt in Inna's mind that she was destined for greatness. What kind of greatness? That the blonde hadn't known, though if she had to guess, she would have said something along the lines of 'inventing new extortion techniques,' or maybe 'baking the best brownies in the world.' (...what? Inna's brownies were fucking legendary. More chocolatey than the actual chocolate, deliciously moist, and also the right amount of sweet! And if you thought that this was somehow a blemish on her reputation as a fearless mafia killer, then fuck you for adhering to these shitty stereotypes. Like??? Inna had a belly and that belly liked to be filled, preferably with things other than trashy burgers bought at one am. The prospect may have been dark and gritty, sure, and you could also cosplay one of those noir movie protagonists who ~lived on the edge~, but that sort of lifestyle got old pretty fast. Especially when you saw the hospital bills for your malnourishment treatment! ...yeah, yeah, so maybe surviving on instant ramen for a year hadn't been the best of ideas, but she'd been seventeen, okay? And since then, Inna had learned her fucking lesson!)

But, anyway. Even if her status as a wave-maker had been a foregone conclusion, Inna certainly hadn't expected her life to turn out like this-- namely, that she'd become a legendary fucking monster slayer. And hoo boy, was this a stuff of legends! Incredible odds? Check. Acrobatic stunts so intense that an Olympian athlete would cry with envy? Check. Impressive pyrotechnics? Check, check and fucking check! (The monstress continued to thrash beneath her, but like, good luck, bitch. As all of her exes could confirm, there was no way to escape from the grip of Inna Orlovskaya's thighs! ...maybe she should copyright that mechanism, or something. Great inventions had to be protected, right? Plus, it would he heartbreaking if some stupid corporation were to profit from her ingenuity.) "Let me give you a friendly piece of advice," Inna smiled as she jammed her sword into her flesh once again, "bully kindergarteners next time. Those might fall of your mommy bullshit, and they usually carry lunch money. Stealing that is just about the level of villainy you can fucking aim for!"

"Aargh! Let me-- let me go," she groaned. "My vengeance will be terrible, you vapid harlot, and--"

'Haenel?'

'Yes?'

'This is taking too fucking long. Do you think you could cook the bitch from the inside? Like, you do seem to be in a pretty good position for that right now.'

'...wow. Are you saying you actually use your brain from time to time? That's new.'


Mentally, Inna rolled her eyes. 'Do you fucking want to make a new home inside of a trashcan?'

'Geez, you really have no sense of humor. But, yes, I can. Just lend me a little bit of your strength-- right, exactly like this. Now watch what we can do together, you irredeemable dumbass.'


...ugh. Never before had Inna thought she'd miss Chett's HR department, but yes, having someone to complain to about her fucking sword sure as hell would have been nice! So, as a punishment, the blonde decided she wouldn't be impressed. No and no and no, even if the stupid fox drowned the whole damn city in fi-- holy fucking shit. Inna stared with her mouth agape, really, as Haenel proceeded to not set anything on fire, probably for the first time in her life. And as for what she did instead? The blade exploded in the wound, with this loud, terrifying rrrrrup, and... uh. Had anyone ordered some well-done monstress steaks? Because the cemetery was kind of covered in them! Wow, wow, wow. (Obviously, Inna would have been happier if she wasn't covered in chunks of mystery meat as well, but such was life, she guessed. ...maybe this was what the metaphor of the abyss staring back into you actually meant? Because the monstress did seem to be part of her now, in a pretty fucking intimate way.) But, hey, at least this bullshit was over with! The fucking zombie army was still an issue, but-- oh. Okay, apparently it wasn't.

"You fucking kidding me?" Inna asked, not even bothering to hide the admiration from her voice. "When did you become a professional zombie manager?" Whatever trick Liora had used, however, it was pretty obvious it had drained her energy reserves-- which was why the blonde offered to support her on the way back to Sol's room. (A task that required a lot of ~touching~, but Inna could live with such a sacrifice. Hehe!) "Good job, Li," she said as they made their way forward, tangled in one another like a less creepy version of the human centipede. "You've really improved a whole fucking lot. Remember when those sailors were a big deal? Now you can add the title 'necromancer' to your CV!" ...not that this bullshit mattered in the slightest, of course, but Inna had kinda noticed that Liora valued these things, so pointing them out felt... well, nice. Uplifting. (Was she doing this right? Being nice had always been just about the last of her priorities, so this was akin to flexing a muscle that didn't fucking exist. Still, muscles could be created, right? With a lot of effort, at least, and-- uh. For Liora, Inna didn't mind trying. Not at all.)

When they stumbled inside, Sol's apartment appeared to be empty-- which, thank the fucking god. Inna sure as hell didn't need to soil her good first impression via admitting she had ruined her clothes within first five seconds! Her being Satan-knows-where at least gave her ample opportunity to cover up her crime. "...uh. You think I could claim it was this dirty when I borrowed it?" she turned to Liora, with an expression that was both doubtful and hopeful at once. "Alternatively, I came up with a story in which I've been composted by accident and you saved me from the jaws of the evil, evil recycling industry. Also, wanna coffee? You look like you need a coffee, or maybe something sweet. Hmmm. Should I bake cookies?" 'Cause, listen, it was never too late to take care of your blood sugar level. That, my friend, was the fucking recipe to happiness! (...and maybe, maybe Inna lowkey wanted Liora to be happy.)
 

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LIORA TRIHN
At first, Liora doesn't really process that it's Inna standing next to her offering her support. Where she would usually reject such offers for help, because she is Liora and Liora does not ever need help from anybody ever, her body relents for her and she finds herself comfortably using the blonde as a prop. She should probably be more concerned by the fact that she not only accepted help from someone else, but that she did so without full awareness of who it was! Like what if it hadn't been Inna? What if that monster had come back and was going to lead her to her secret liar? ...Ugh, she'll chastise herself later for not being more careful and just be grateful that it is Inna who's arms are all around her as they head back to Sol's place. She does not have the energy to be mean to herself and this lack of energy translates as her leaning against Inna slightly more than she has to; much to her pleasure, it feels nice and warm like the warmth she had been chasing when the demoness had apparently taken over her mind.

(And now that she's thinking about that, the loss she had felt before getting caught up in the heat of moment returns in full force, slamming against her chest and nearly sending her backwards. She's not even upset that it had been so easy for the demon to get inside of her head––she kind of guesses that it could have happened to anyone; what upsets her more is knowing what the demon had used to exploit her. Fake as it was, the loss doesn't remind her of what her life is missing, it forces her to realize what her life is missing. In combination with her first magic lesson that started to bring about similar feelings, she is beginning to see a pattern and it's not exactly one she is comfortable with.)

When they crash into Sol's empty apartment, she is thankful that her sister isn't home because she isn't even sure how she would explain their state of dress to her; like Sol can pretty much roll with any surprise, but she can only picture the girl fainting were she to realize her sister and sister's friend (wow that feels nice) slayed a mind-fucking demon. Happy that she doesn't have to even entertain that possibility, she collapses onto the couch, slouching as her eyes close––just resting them, you know. Definitely not passing out, because Liora does not pass out. "I wonder... I wonder if the magic world even knows about CVs and cover letters––they kind of gave us this shitty saving the fucking world job without even running a background check; also, our swords never presented us with their teaching credentials so," she trails off. She sounds tired, naturally, but she is fighting the urge to sleep and the suggestion of coffee? That immediately warms her. "Yeah, coffee would be great." A shower would be nice too, but the thought of moving is entirely exhausting.( Jesus fucking Christ she can create a whole giant worm without issue but putting some souls to bed and that's what makes her weak? How the hell do these powers even work? She can hear Declan trying to give her an explanation and she waves the owl in her mind away––like she'll save the mystery for later.)

"But, um, you thought that was cool?" she asks, lazily rolling her head to the side to look at Inna, definitely not sounding pathetically hopeful that her colleague thinks she's getting better. She sits up just a bit and makes an attempt to stand, but her body is still recovering and she only slumps back down. This isn't her favorite state to be in and yet she doesn't really mind Inna seeing her this way––the other woman does know the reason, after all, and is currently praising her efforts rather than berating her for not knowing that she'd end up totally useless afterwards. Like that could have ended up much more terribly if she hadn't convinced most of those spirits to go back to resting. "And thanks for not letting that bitch, you know, steal my eyes... like by the way. She, um, was pretty upset with me." It must be the acoustics of Sol's place, because Liora does sound suspiciously distraught about that––even if she can logically understand that bitch was completely evil and trying to use her (speaking of, did they re-close that rift? She doesn't remember; everything from the evening is such a blur she kind of hopes that resolves itself), there is that part of her that did succumb to her manipulations. That did believe she could offer her all the solace of a mother.

She crosses her arms over her chest, trying to ignore the emotional bruises left by the demoness. "If you do make cookies," she starts, sounding surprisingly shy, "could you make those ones that you brought to the last holiday party?" Um, because, yeah, Liora remembers those and remembers being annoyed that they were so good (and that everyone liked them). "I'd––I'd help, but..." she still feels like a sack of potatoes. "And I don't think Sol will care that you destroyed your clothes––she'd probably appreciate some overblown story about how it happened, but she literally needs to get a better wardrobe so you're doing her a favor." Like apparently her sister does not respect the adage about mixing prints or even trying to match colors––just look at how she dressed Inna. How she ended up being such a fashion disaster is beyond Liora––who doesn't consider herself a fashion icon, but at least she knows how to match colors (because when you only wear black it's not that hard).

"... Hey, did that monster-thing, uh, mind control you too?" She already knows the answer to this given that when she came around again, Inna had already been running away, but she is curious if the creature had even tried (and if so, how did Inna manage to resist?).
 
"True," Inna agreed easily, "but like, obviously that was a fucking mistake. So, when we inevitably end up in charge of this bullshit magical system, we're overhauling it. CVs will be mandatory, as well as cover letters. Each new candidate will be... I dunno, given a prophetic dream. In place of an actual interview, you know? And their reaction will tell us whether they're worthy or not." ...wait, wait, wait. Was she, Inna Fucking Orlovskaya, actually proposing some form organization instead of just... uhhh, generating more chaos? Was she sick, or something? (Liora having an effect on her was an option as well, though a way more terrifying one-- like, Inna was pretty fucking certain that could only really be achieved via a mind-control chip implanted into her brain, and she would like to believe her that her friend wouldn't fuck with her in this way. The blonde never changed her opinions, after all! Other people may have done it, so RIP to them, she guessed, but she was different. Why change a worldview that had been literally perfect from the very beginning? Perhaps there were those who enjoyed downgrades, like those IT fuckers who kept inventing progressively worse operating systems every goddamn year, though not Inna. Never Inna, who was used to 100% rate of correctness in literally everything! ...though maybe, if she had to take a page out of someone else's book, that person being Liora wouldn't be the worst thing ever. Like, there was a reason why Inna enjoyed being with her, right? She must have been correct in something at least, and given that she and her disagreed on pretty much everything... well, statistically, that meant that Inna had to be fucking wrong as well sometimes. Wow. Mind blown!)

The revelation stunned her, so much that she almost forgot to put water in the kettle, but thankfully, the blonde caught that error in time. (Burning the whole kitchen down? Yeah, not an ideal way to end this clusterfuck of an evening. Sure as hell would have been a statement, though! ...not sure what it would imply, however Inna was pretty sure she could come up with some sob story if Sol asked.) "Yeah, it was pretty fucking cool. I mean, the cemetery was crawling with corpses-- looked like a cheap rendition of the Resident Evil games, to be honest. And yeah, yeah, I know this was technically reality and thus not a rendition of anything, but textures were better in the newer titles, as well as the lighting. The zombies looked more zombie-y. But, what I was trying to say-- there were so many of them, and yet it took a single Liora to deal with that. You pulled it off so quickly, too! Like, I was ready to deal with Raccoon City LiteTM the second I cooked that bitch, but they were all dead already. If that doesn't deserve the official Seal of Coolness, then I don't know what fucking does." Swiftly, Inna placed her cup of coffee in front of Liora, and then--

"Oh," she exhaled, obviously surprised. (Someone actually thanking her? Was she starring in a fucking episode of The Twilight Zone? 'Cause it sure as hell felt like that, with these mysterious revelations and pattern-breaking shit. ...and with Liora actually sounding as if something bothered her, too. Not in the usual 'I will crush you, you insignificant little worm' way, either, but in something that suspiciously resembled normal, human 'I am hurt.' Again, wow!) "I... you're welcome, I guess. I mean, I like your eyes, too. Without them, you wouldn't be able to look at me and that would be sad." ...which, what?! Okay, okay, okay. It had been a good run, Inna supposed-- managing not to say anything weird or offensive for longer than five minutes, that was.

"You remember those?" Inna arched her eyebrow in astonishment. (It had been a tiny thing she honestly even hadn't been too proud of-- like yeah, they had been delicious, but they'd been just cookies. You know, the type of goods that basically screamed 'shit, shit, shit, I forgot I was supposed to bake something, let me wrack my brain for a recipe that won't take me longer than fifteen fucking minutes'. ...which may or may not have been exactly what had happened! Knowing that Liora could recall it this vividly, though? That did, uh, things to her. Funny things, mostly.) "I mean, sure, yeah. That's not a difficult recipe. Let's see if Sol has some fucking cocoa in there... ah, yeah. There it is!" The other ingredients, such as flour and eggs, Inna located without issues, so the operation could begin! "It's about the ratios, really. Like, you can't expect to make something delicious without balance," the blonde nodded sagely as she worked on the dough. "Well, that, and without knowing the oven. The heat distribution can be all kinds of fucked, sooo... we'll make some toasts first. You know, to see just where most of the heat goes and whether the temperature is what the oven is saying it is."

Inna was in the middle of covering the baking tin with slices of bread when Liora asked her question. "Uhhh... it tried to, I think," she frowned, without looking up from her task. "It offered me these visions of certainty and always being right and shit, but like, that didn't appeal to me? I'm plenty fucking right as is. So, I'd say I just wasn't the intended target audience." ...which meant that Liora was, in some way. What a weird thought. Liora 'I-can-annihilate-a-fucking-tank-with-the-power-of-my-gaze-alone' Trihn? Fucking really? "What did it say to you? Like, just of curiosity. You don't really need to tell me."
 

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LIORA TRIHN
"You think we'll take over the magical hierarchy?" she asks, clearly amused by the thought and simultaneously deadly serious––perhaps not picking up that her friend is possibly joking. Perhaps it's because Inna is also investing so much time into discussing just what she would do differently were they to take over. Honestly? With this half-picture painted in front of her, and now that Liora is thinking about it, it may actually be easier to take over the magical world than to save the world they're living in; for starters, she is a born leader––don't ask anyone who has ever had to work under her leadership, because they were all idiots who could not follow simple instructions. But she knows that when it comes to complex systems of organization, it's nothing she can't handle. And how different can magical systems be from normal ones? Like once she gets a better grip on these magic abilities and learns more about these creatures that keep challenging them out of nowhere, she thinks it'd actually be pretty doable. "You know, they probably could benefit from having some systems in place to weed out the fucking losers who can't handle their jobs. Like if that kraken had been so good at hers, maybe she wouldn't have monologued for so long that we wouldn't have been the ones to take her out. Maybe our actual mission is to permanently terminate all these useless monsters that can't do their fucking jobs right." Okay, theorizing based on loose associations? Wow, this is a disturbing development to the woman who prefers to rely on concrete facts and hard data. She's definitely spending too much time with the blonde... and the weird thing is, she doesn't even mind.

In fact, even now, exhausted as she is, she isn't annoyed by the sound of Inna's voice and her constant prattling. She finds it easy to just relax (wow) and not spend her remaining reserves of energy on constructing insults of the century. "Resident Evil..." she mumbles, taking more notes on Inna's various interests––and she's beginning to solidify the narrative that Inna is the big nerd between the two of them and not herself. (Not that she ever thought she was a nerd, but she does recall a handful of occasions where Inna had called her one.) "Mila Jovovich is hot." She's trying a little too hard to relate with this one and should just let go of the things she doesn't know, but she wants the blonde to think she sort of knows what she is referencing. She takes the coffee and smiles her thank you, fingers encircling the mug and holding it close to her chest. Liora doesn't wait for the liquid to cool, preferring things that are scalding hot to the point that drinking this does not even affect her; in fact, she thinks it's a little on the warm side. Not that she even mentions that.

Inna's next comment makes her laugh––not in the I'm going to wake up with a six pack tomorrow kind of laugh, but it's probably the most she's given the other ever. It entertains her more than anything else––that Inna can find room to compliment them both. "I think even if I lost my eyes, I wouldn't ever forget your face." Oh. That came out faster than she could stop it, but maybe she's just feeding on Inna's weird energy. Obviously, she wouldn't have said something so... so... so outlandishly strange! Like who even says shit like that outside of novels written by the Brontë sisters and Jane Austen? Clearly that had not been a product of her own doing. "I mean, like... Because I've stared at it so much," okay, well that made it worse? Third times the charm, "To recognize you, um," if you end up dead and someone needs to identify the body doesn't seem like the ideal thing to say so she tries to backtrack quickly. "From your evil twin. Or clone. They can't get every detail down to a T, so it's important to know these things." 'It's... it's the coffee.' So naturally, she chugs the rest of her mug and sets it aside.

Now, with a bit more energy, she grabs a blanket from off the couch, wraps herself in it, and then leans against the counter as she watches Inna work. To the woman who cannot cook and has refused to learn anything beyond basics like boiling pasta, making a sandwich, and scrambling an egg, this is all extremely impressive. And that Inna has the forethought to figure out the heat distribution of the oven? Like doesn't she know about pre-heat settings and such? It's right there. Even so, she doesn't say anything because why burst Inna's bubble? She clearly has a method and if it's the same method she had used the last time she made these cookies, then why does she care? At least there is a semblance of logic that she's following. "Okay, so you can bake, cook, murder people, shoot flames from your hands... Is there anything the great Inna Orlovskaya can't do? Or are you just that much of a hotshot?" she teases, sounding dangerously close to flirting––if Liora even knew how to do that intentionally! Clearly this is just banter between former nemeses now friends.

Under normal circumstances Liora would not have even asked her question that led the conversation to this point; however, these are not normal circumstances and have ceased to be normal since the revelation of magic at the Magic Murder Mansion. And that's probably why Liora does choose to answer Inna's inquiry––even if she's upset that it apparently hadn't even worked on Inna. That they could have stabbed the bitch in her open chest and been done with that fiasco before it even really started had she not been so... weak. She averts her gaze, looking at the floor and filling herself with judgments about her sister's inability to keep a floor clean. That doesn't really mask her feelings though, and they still sit on her shoulders. "It was that easy, huh?" She chews on her bottom lip and pulls the blanket around her shoulders tighter. (That she's too caught up in herself to correct Inna's false assumption that she's mostly right should say everything too.) "She showed me..." her voice gets small, smaller and smaller like she's only a tall child, "She showed me this place where I was––I was being held by my mom, but it wasn't my mom in the way Vie and Ivy don't look like us, you know? Just some motherly placeholder, I guess. And it felt warm and safe––she told me I could live there forever. Just me and this placeholder, and, honestly?" her voice begins to shake, like maybe she is going to cry though Liora's eyes show no sign of budging. They just seem faraway and distant. "Honestly, I wanted to. Like––I've never had that feeling before, I don't think... That's fucking pathetic, I know. Like I can comfort myself for Christ's sake––I don't need another person, let alone my fucking mom, to do that for me. Like, Jesus fucking Christ, I can't believe I fucking bought into that! It was so fucking fake too and I could even tell, but I still just... Just gave in like a fucking little kid." Her face twists into a mixture of anger and sorrow, unsure of what she even feels more of or even what she's willing to feel more. "I'm sorry––I'm sorry, I almost fucked that up whole thing up. You could have gotten seriously hurt."
 
"Smoking hot," Inna agreed, kind of shocked that she and Liora were discussing women of all things, but rolling with it nonetheless. Like, this wasn't fucking awkward or anything, right? Friends did talk about their preferences-- it was the number one law of friendship, in fact. Like, had there been a Friends' Bible,'Thou shall admire hotness together,' would have been one of its first commandments! (And that she'd confessed to Liora just yesterday? That didn't make it weird at all. Nah, mate. The weird, sinking feeling in her stomach was just her being excited, 'cause that was what excitement felt like. Just, haha! Finally, a kindred soul! Jesus fucking Christ, calm down. It's not like she'll leave you for Mila fucking Jovovich. Besides, the feelin... uhhh, LustTM she had once felt for Liora was a thing of distant, distant past. Once more than 24 hours separated Inna from whatever it was that had happened, she just shoved it into a box titled 'irrelevant' and moved on. It worked wonders, really! Great for avoiding traumas and other made-up nonsense. That other people didn't do this only proved that they liked wallowing in their own filth, which, not really relatable. Yesterday's whims were like yesterday's underwear!) So, like a well-adjusted friend, Inna just nodded. "For a real woman, anyway. Like, don't take me for a disgusting weeb, but Claire Redfield's design is the sole fucking proof that there's meaning to art." ...it, uh, may have inspired Inna during sleepless nights, though she didn't feel comfy enough to share that just yet with Liora. Listen, what if she judged her? (Not that she wasn't used to judgment from Liora Stuck Up Trihn, but in her mind, two Lioras existed-- the Liora from Before, who had the form of a shapeless demon, and the Current Liora, who happened to be surrounded by rainbows. Being insulted by the newest version would just be wrong, okay? Kind of like being stabbed in the gut by a fucking puppy that you were trying to cuddle. Yes, stabbed, with a goddamn knife!)

"Oh, reeeally?" Inna beamed at her companion and then she, uh, may have winked. For ReasonsTM. "An incredibly valid concern, by the way. Like, you just can't know what these fuckers are up to. And hey, maybe aliens really do exist! So, it wouldn't surprise me if one of us was kidnapped for ransom, since we're apparently fucking important now. I mean, there's got to be some weight to the title, right? The saviors of the goddamn world." Now, Inna still didn't enjoy it, but that didn't mean that she couldn't acknowledge the disturbing trend-- like, the demons wouldn't stop hunting their asses if she stuck fingers inside of her ears and went 'lalalalala', so running one of her usual fake news campaigns seemed kinda pointless. (...wow. Reality caught up to her, just like her highschool teacher said it would! Fuck her, in all seriousness. This wasn't even the result of the so-called Consequences she had preached to the blonde about. Just, consequences of what? Being born into this shit world? Being born as a cheap substitute for Ivy, who had apparently known what to do with her gifts? ...stupid, stupid Ivy. If she had been so great, how come she had gotten her ass handed to her, huh? Checkmate, atheists!) "But I'm sure they'd be able to replicate my face easily, actually-- with my features being so fucking symmetrical and everything. So, I think my personality is the key here. Can't copy something this big, you know? Or, or, or, I can tell you a dirty secret and you can use the answer as a security question, if you ever doubt whether I'm real. Hmm, hmm. Okay, here goes: I kinda like Little Witch Academia." And by 'kinda like,' Inna meant bawling at every other episode-- 'cause the thing was like a shot of serotonin directly into her brain. "Don't spread this info, alright? It's fucking confidential."

The blonde's hands worked independently of her brain, it seemed, because cookies were beginning to appear on the baking tin-- cookies that were impressively regular in shape, too, given that they were entirely hand-made. When Liora uttered something that sounded suspiciously like a pick-up line, though? Inna, uh, kinda faltered. "Umm. I... I guess?" (The blush on her cheeky must have made her look like a fucking beetroot, too, but like, this was Liora. Liora Icicle Trihn, who would sooner swallow her own tongue before complimenting literally anyone. Her heart beating in her chest this wildly was an entirely normal reaction, god fucking dammit!) "I thought I sucked at making you laugh, though I'm getting better at that, too. I wonder what other things I could do to you, with some practice." What!!! What the fuck, man. Had her mouth joined the enemy side, or something? This kind of treachery deserved the goddamn guillotine! "Ah. I mean friendship things, of course. Like, friendship bracelets. I guess 'for' would have been the better preposition here, buuut prepositions are hard, man. All these years in the Angloland and still I fuck up from time to time! Haha. Ha." Whew, a good save. Who would have thought English not being her first language would actually be this useful?

Desperately, Inna prayed to all the known and unknown gods to send her a distraction-- except that, when it came, she fully grasped the meaning of 'be careful what you wish for' for the first time. Just, wow! Liora unraveling like this before her very eyes... well, that was a sight she would have paid actual money for a few weeks ago, but now it felt wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong! Liora shouldn't fucking feel Like This over something she had so little control over. Didn't the world bully them enough as it was? No need to join it and punch yourself in the fucking gut, too. (...besides, this kinda seemed sad. Not sad as in pathetic, but just legitimately sad. Before, Inna hadn't really considered what may have inspired Liora to behave like a goddamn alien, though now? The woman might have showed her a little glimpse, unwittingly. Also, like, wow. Imagine having Little!Liora at home and not showering her with love! It was a good thing, really, that Inna's own experiences didn't bother her at all, despite the likely similarities. Her coping mechanisms were just that fucking good, thank you very much.)

"Li," she began, not really knowing what to say but opening her big mouth anyway, "it's okay. It really is. So what if that's hard for you? Like, I suck at this motivational speech bullshit, but look at the fucking facts." 'Cause that was how her colleague operated, right? Via logic and reason, which were concepts which still vaguely scared the blonde, but... well, for Liora, she'd embrace them. She'd try to, at least. "We all suck at different things. A fucking pianist likely won't be a great surgeon, et cetera et cetera. And, uh, I have faults as well. Like, I threw multiple hissy fits that almost got me killed. Except that you were there, you know? So, I'm here now, too. It doesn't fucking matter that you aren't good at this because I am, which means we've got this covered. You'll get through this because duh, you're Liora, but till you do? I'll pick up the slack. Also, umm," the blonde's voice was suddenly colored by something that almost made her sound shy, "comforting yourself is hard, man. I dunno, if you want a hug or something, I can do that, too. My arms are, uh, fully functional. I don't think it would be weird, either. Isn't that what friends are for? Mammals fucking adore being touched, too, so it's kinda like eating or drinking water, really. Not embarrassing at all!"
 

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LIORA TRIHN
On the extremely long list of things Liora does not talk about, because these things distinctly do not bother her so why put in the effort fixating on them, talking about her relationship with her mother sits high at the top––above number one, somehow. There are a lot of ways that her mother has both knowingly and unknowingly hurt the woman and she has never been able to figure out what she did wrong or even why she isn't enough. Spending too much time thinking about such a topic would probably reduce her to something... to something that resembles a puddle and since Liora does not see a use in becoming a puddle, she has avoided acknowledging the hurt and instead reasoned that she just needs to try harder. Always, that has been her solution. Just keep exceeding expectations and someday she'll be acknowledged, right? Well, thus far it hasn't worked and trapped in this vicious cycle, she only knows how to keep spinning around and around. One would think she'd be dizzy or sick at this point, but Liora is a master at ignoring her symptoms in the name of persevering.

Except. That's not working. Maybe it has never really worked, but in this moment it all hits Liora like a cartoon anvil to the head and instead of being able to make some dopey-quick recovery, she feels all her bones break under the weight. And when Inna offers her words of encouragement? She feels herself unravel just a bit more than she would care to admit, but even in coming undone she doesn't mind it if it's with Inna. She didn't tell her this, and the likelihood of her ever admitting this is close to null, but even these recent doses of security from the blonde have forced some unwanted introspection. It's probably why she appreciates her so much; it's probably why she's blushing so hard right now; it's probably why she's not as scared that she's most likely going to have a heart attack if Inna keeps this up––with it beating so fast, she's sure this isn't healthy. So, at first a little shy, she scoots closer to the blonde; then, all at once, the blanket drops from her shoulders and her arms are secured fast around Inna's middle. (Look, she offered some surprisingly sound logic on the purpose of hugs and the unfortunate mammalian need for touch... but that's not true either. She doesn't accept the hug because of logic, she accepts it because she wants it and she wants it from Inna specifically. After all, it had been the blonde's warmth that allowed her to resist the demon's next attempt at turning her into a useless worm.) "It––It just sucks, you know? Like, becoming some wicked sorcerer wasn't in my five year plan and I never got the proper training for this shit and, and I just feel so fucking useless every time a new threat is chasing us; like being part of the mafia was fucking safer than this shit," she says, feeling her eyes get wet, so she buries herself into the crook of Inna's neck to privately blink away her non-existent tears. "But, um, I do appreciate you––for picking up the slack. Like more than once too––honestly, we'd both be dead without each other."

Logically, she should let go of Inna now. She's pretty sure hugs are not supposed to last this long and yet, she doesn't want to pull away. So she searches for more reasons to keep her close. "I just hate feeling inadequate," and without being able to stop herself, she continues, "Like, I got enough of that growing up and it's worse when you're constantly compared to your sister who isn't even that great. Who doesn't even try at anything worthwhile; who constantly fucks up... Like how was I even supposed to know where the marker was if the person I'm constantly compared to is objectively so far behind me? and trying to be anything like her would have easily gotten me in trouble? How was I supposed to know what... what I'm even supposed to be fucking doing." She hasn't realized that she's rambled or delved into her issues with Sol, because she is both in the kitchen with Inna and some place else faraway at the same time. For a few seconds, Liora is quiet and when she comes back to the moment, she looks at Inna with her cheeks bright and rosie before she finally pulls away from her friend. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to suffocate you."

Grabbing the blanket from the floor, she wraps it back around her shoulders and props herself back against the counter, still wanting to be within a three foot vicinity of the blonde. Like, as long as she's within this range, she knows her safety is guaranteed. "Or dump all that––it's really not even a big deal. I don't why it bothers me, because it honestly just made me better," because it forced her to try so much harder. It also caused a lot of other negative reactions, but Liora doesn't like to focus on those nearly as much––despite them rearing their ugly heads quite frequently in the forms of her anger, judgmental/icy attitude, not allowing herself unnecessary pleasures, etc. Justifying the hurt as necessary to her success acts as the worst band aid in the world, but a band aid nonetheless. "I think this week has just really tested my ability to handle stress––I'll be fine now." She's not really sure of that, but she wants to believe it, because logically speaking she has gotten all of her issues out of her system so they should cease to exist now, right? It's not like by halfway acknowledging them she's made them real...

Anyway, she's more concerned about what Inna will think of her now. It's not everyday that anyone gets to see Liora likes this––hell, the woman herself has barely seen herself this way. It's incredibly vulnerable and probably a silly thing to be concerned about given that she's already seen Inna cry (twice). But Liora being vulnerable is unacceptable in her own mind, because she is supposed to strong and unwavering. Like how many biting comments had she taken from her mother over the years without flinching? And now, all of a sudden, she is sad about them? That doesn't make any sense to her. However, even so, she reasons it doesn't count with Inna. Not because Inna is unimportant to her, but because Inna is so important to her and because of that it's okay for her to see this side. That realization alone startles her. While she knew this had been a budding possibility, in light of Inna's earlier confession, it makes her feel strange. Should she still value Inna the same? Would that be like stringing her along? And if she's not into the blonde then how come it's so easy for Inna to make her feel funny? Slowly, she's beginning to suspect that her feelings are not as clear as she originally thought. More importantly, she's wondering if all those funny feelings are not the cause of a strange illness but something else entirely. She shakes her head, that's too much for her to think about right now, so she changes the subject. "But, anyway, Little Witch Academia? What is that?" she asks, trying to distract herself from her introspection as well as her most recent display of weakness. "Is that like Harry Potter?"
 
Hugs, of course, weren't anything new to Inna. Like, haha, how much of a fucking maladjust did you have to be to get excited over something this fucking basic? In the official touching hierarchy, this was barely above a handshake-- above a handshake and under a cheek kiss, the blonde guessed, unless you were unlucky enough to be born as a Russian. In that case, kisses were the default! (Just, ewww. Who the hell had come up with that? Whoever it had been, there must have been a special place in Hell reserved for them, Inna was sure. Like, seriously. This """tradition""" clearly was just a thinly veiled Quasimodo rights campaign, and Quasimodos should have exactly zero rights. Especially when it came to getting anywhere near her luscious, luscious lips!) Umm, anyway. Hugs weren't a big deal, right? Inna had just established that, and that automatically made it right because it had been her thought processes that had led her to this conclusion. For once, she'd even provided some fucking evidence! Except that the evidence crumbled the second Liora wrapped her arms around her, and... well. You know that feeling after you stepped out into nothingness, with a parachute on your back? Those breathless seconds in which you had no fucking idea whether it would open, or whether you were plummeting towards your inglorious death? Yeah, it felt like that, kinda. Her pulse going nuts certainly checked out, and the sense of unanchoredness? That, too! (...and no, Inna didn't fucking care that that wasn't a legit word. -un was a mainstream prefix, -ness a common suffix, so like, figure it out, Sherlock! The expression should have existed years ago, and the blonde had just pulled it out of the linguistic void like the fucking visionary she was. Yup, that was right. Now, if you were nice enough, Inna would send you an autograph!)

...okay, okay. What now, though? Like, what to do with her hands? She had certain IdeasTM, but none of those seemed appropriate in the light of current events, so she just... uhh, patted her back lightly. That was platonic enough, wasn't it? Liora couldn't very well blame her for the touch when she had gone for the hug, too-- unless she jumped through some pretty fucking impressive hoops, of course. (The sad thing, though? Liora 'Fuck Logic' Trihn would do that in a heartbeat, and somehow make it appear reasonable, too. Ugh, such people were the worst! ...or the best? Considering that Inna, you know, enjoyed her existence in general.) "There, there," she remarked, rather uselessly. "And yeah, the situation is fucked. About hundred times fucked, I say. Like, you may have noticed I'm not happy about it? I've been implying it, in this extremely fucking subtle way." And, as she spoke, a miracle occurred-- the sense of unanchoredness drifted away, just like politicians' promises, and instead, Inna actually began to feel more grounded. (It kinda seemed like it was meant to be that way, you see? As if her body had exactly the right shape for being hugged by Liora, via the act, she was finally, finally complete. Whole, really. Two cogwheels falling into one another in the best way, and moving the other forward, and-- wow. What a sappy load of bullshit, right? ...Inna liked the sentiment, though. So much that it scared her.)

"And nobody likes that-- that's fucking normal. It's just that, honestly, I don't think you suck? Like yeah, you aren't an archmage or anything, but we've barely been doing this for a fucking week. With no training if you don't count Haenel and Declan, which I don't." Haenel in particular should just go play in the traffic-- Inna may have kinda sorta forgiven her, but that didn't mean she couldn't aim her vitriol at the fox occasionally. Being insulted for the pettiest of reasons was just a perk of working with the blonde! "So, we're still just learning this. And yeah, there may have been some road bumps, but we're alive. We're alive, while the fuckers who tried to kill us fucking aren't. I dunno about you, Li, but that seems like a good score to me."

Then Liora started talking about her sister, though, and... huh. Was she feeling insecure because of her? Because of fucking Sol, who seemed to be competing in a completely different life category altogether? Wait, wait, wait. Liora said 'being compared,' which, when Inna put on her Sherlock hat, she determined to be a fucking passive. As in, someone had done the comparing for her! (Hmmm, geez. Sure as fuck was a mystery, huh? 'Someone.' What kind of person knew both of the sisters and saw a point in drawing these idiotic parallels? Like, probably not Chett. The bastard had committed many crimes, a lot of them relating towards violation of the principles of AestheticTM, but in this, he seemed to be blameless. No, this was a parental sin! ...some idiots should have been banned from having kids, truly. Like, why bring a child into this shit fucking world if you were just going to traumatize them? Hellooooo?) "Yeah, you will be fine," Inna nodded. "'Cause now you know you can lean on me when you need to. No, I mean it. You know how when you cook, you need to lift the lid from time to time otherwise the steam's gonna make a fucking mess? It's similar with these things, too, so... no need to be shy about it, really. And no, it's nothing like Harry Potter," Inna scoffed, clearly insulted by the comparison. "The message is much more complex. You know what? We'll watch it. Just... lemme take care of the cookies."

...because, yup, those were still a thing! Maybe Liora had forgotten about them, but the oven certainly hadn't, and leaving them there for longer than that would sentence them to being just slightly more tasteful than ashes. Which, not on her fucking watch! Diligently, Inna put the hot cookies on a tray, and then moved it on the table standing in front of the TV. The couch was large enough for two, obviously so she plopped down next to Liora. (Oooh, nice. How very comfy! ..comfy and safe, too, which was admittedly a pretty exotic combo for Inna.)

"Hmm, hmm. Let's see if Sol has a Netflix account." ...Sol. Sol, who Liora was bizarrely jealous of. Inna had kinda avoided that topic, hadn't she? Mostly because it hadn't felt like it had been her place to say anything, but maybe it had. Maybe it still was! Like, clearly, Inna was awesome, so her approval must have had the appropriate weight to it. (Well, that, and also? With this new context, the blonde could see how the immediate connection between her and the other woman could have made Liora sad, and she didn't want her to be sad, dammit. No, her friend needed to be the opposite of that!)

"You know, Li... I like Sol. She's fun," Inna began. "And I'm pretty fucking sure I could rope her into stealing candy from children on Halloween, which is always a fucking riot. You should see those faces, man. But, what I meant to say," the blonde restrained herself before she could go on another wild tangent, "is that I like you more. Yeah, yeah, you're not like me, but maybe that's kind of for the best? As in, I'd probably have to murder my twin-- I know she'd be insufferable in the long run. And-- and I can rely on you and shit, and you're funny in your own way, and you tell me stuff I wouldn't have thought of, and... I dunno, you catch my drift by now, I think. So like, you don't need to be anyone else. You're neat as you are."
 

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LIORA TRIHN
Seeking comfort in Inna is a surprisingly not scary task; while Liora certainly has her concerns and reservations about the general principle of using others for something so basic as validation, she's reframing a lot of the rules in her head about it to make Inna Orlovskaya the exception. Which, if she ever let the blonde know about this recent development, Inna should consider herself fucking special because it's not everyday that Liora adjusts her rules for just anyone. In fact, the number of people that she has made exceptions for can be counted on one hand with one finger, because it's only Inna. Now, she won't be investigating that right now––however, with all these strange happenings she may open up that file labeled Never Touch These Thoughts Again and revisit some of the most recent entries she has placed there. Especially since things connected to those forbidden thoughts keep piling up and, well, she'll have to do some serious reorganizing if she is going to make sense of any of it. But for now, she will settle with just hanging out with Inna, because this is nice and she doesn't want to complicate it by being too in her head.

While Inna pulls out the cookies and sets them on a cooling tray, Liora settles on the couch. She pulls the blanket off of her shoulders and places it on her lap, sitting with legs criss-crossed. "I kind of thought your disdain for putting up with all this bullshit was just your usual avoiding responsibilities tendencies––no offense, just an observation," and she means that too, it doesn't seem like a mean thing to say when everyone practically knows this about the blonde. She's pretty sure Inna herself has acknowledged it, so it doesn't seem like a bitchy thing to say. "I didn't know you were upset too... But I'm glad we're both in agreement that this magical prophecy shit fucking sucks––like I don't know that I've ever heard that the subject of a prophecy is ever pleased with their destiny, but they usually at least play along and then eventually, I dunno, get Stockholmed into the role." Not the Liora has consumed a plethora of media on the subject, but with the three or so examples she has, that seems to be the dominant theme: not wanting to be chosen, not believing they can be the chosen, and eventually falling into the role with the support of friendship and an early mentor death. "Anyway, glad we're too smart to fall for bullshit like that," she jokes, and means it too. If it won't be their obvious intellect that prevents them from allowing bullshit ghosts to run their lives, it will be their own combined stubbornness.

"I suppose you're right," Liora concedes, which, too bad no one is recording this because that is definitely one for the record books! Not just Liora admitting someone else is right, but admitting that Inna "Pain in Liora's Ass" Orlovskaya is right. Usually she would disagree as her default settings, but all those settings seem to be out of whack lately so it makes sense she is malfunctioning so much. "When it comes to starting something that I want to be good at, I don't mind being bad at first. Honestly," she isn't sure what it'll be like to admit this out loud, but she trusts Inna to not judge her for it, "I don't really care about magic. It just happens to be our only effective tool these days so it just sucks having to learn on the fly. I'm honestly surprised we've survived this week without something else killing us or us killing each other," she says, referencing their earlier bet at that one restaurant where she discovered Inna cannot handle spicy foods. "Chett chasing after us is hardly concerning anymore; like his goons have always been a little short on braincells so I wouldn't have worried anyway, but now they just seem like ants in comparison to everything else."

Once Inna is on the couch next to her, with the tray of cookies wafting in front of them, Liora scoots closer to her companion and offers her some of the blanket. Where Liora could have definitely grabbed a separate blanket for Inna, she remembers that sharing body heat is much more effective than relying on your own heat and Inna is the hottest warmest person she knows so it just makes sense. Don't think about it too much. "Yeah, she definitely has Netflix, here, let me just," she reaches for the remote and presses the Netflix button, pulling up the application. Even though Sol is logged out, it only takes two guesses to crack her password (she's moved on from LioraSm3ll5 to s0lRul3z). She then places the remote in Inna's lap.

As she reaches to grab one of the warm cookies off the tray, setting in her palm, she almost crushes the treat when Inna starts talking about Sol. About liking Sol. Not exactly what she wants to hear, especially after they were having such a sweet moment where Liora actually felt like she might in the future take Inna up on her offer to support h––oh. Oh. She thought too soon (typical, really). As Inna continues, she feels her chest swell and her cheeks darken, taking to heart what her friend is saying. "Oh, I, um... You really prefer me to her?" she whispers, bashfully, still in shock that Inna or anyone would admit to perferring her to Sol. "I think you're neat too, you know."
 
"Eh," Inna shrugged, "none fucking taken. I mean, that may have been a part of that, too. Responsibility is bullshit. Like, haven't you thought about why you should be doing all these things? You know what I'm talking about-- get a job you hate, pay taxes so that some rich fucker can steal them and buy three houses with twenty six bathrooms instead of just one, produce your spawn at an appropriate age so they can continue the fucking cycle. It's just peer pressure, plan and simple. The average Joe doesn't want to think of these things, you see? 'Cause if he did, he'd have to realize he built his entire fucking life around someone else's ideas of what's right. So, instead of thinking for himself, he'll rub your nose in his piss the second he notices you were trying to raise your head and look around. That's exactly how this shit works, Li." ...shocking that Inna had actually given some thought to her thoughtless ways, right? Maybe, yeah, but that happened sometimes, too. The blonde's brain was a powerful fucking machine, though, so it took some time to start it-- you couldn't fucking trigger all the processes in a nuclear plant within three seconds. Nah, mate. Good things required their time! (...aside from instant gratification, of course, on which Inna was an expert as well. Hmmm, oh yes, baby, shoot the serotonin directly into her veins!)

"But, I dunno. I suppose the chosen ones part bothers me as well. I mean, it's fucking crazy. I was always the last one to get chosen in pretty much every PE class," mostly because she firmly believed that things like 'rules' were just a meaningless social construct, "and suddenly, I'm getting chosen to save the fucking world? Shouldn't there be some middle stage between the two positions? Like saving the local ZOO, or something. I would have done that, and gladly, too, because lions are bros, but man. The entire world? Even," Inna winced, "Germany? Disgusting. Their only fucking contribution to the world culture is Oktoberfest, but if you ask me, having to suffer the existence of their ugly-ass, sandpaper-sounding language just isn't worth it." Like, seriously. What the fuck was German, even? An attempt to make their enemies' ears bleed? 'Cause yeah, that would check out. "And aside from all these shitty places I don't really wanna save, the world is huge. How do you even know it's been saved? You think some mythological fucker will roll the red carpet before us once it's done, or that the the last demon will announce that this is it? The final fucking boss fight?" Somehow, Inna doubted that-- anyone who didn't have cotton candy for brain would have, really, except that weaving these unlikely scenarios was infinitely more fun than what she suspected would actually happen. And you know what that was? Ready for the dramatic reveal? Well, okay: some part of her thought this would never fucking end. Never! They could solve one problem, sure, but three more would pop up in the meantime, and then they'd be stuck in this stupid loop of fixing shit they hadn't even broken. Which, not fucking fair! Why the hell had Fate decided she was to be its repairwoman? Destruction resonated with her soul on a much deeper level, but nooo, she'd been handed this hippie bullshit instead.

...still, maybe it wasn't the right time to get angry over all of that. Anger was incredibly valid, of course, and like 80% of her personality had been formed by rage, but right now? Liora was soft and warm and close, and Inna kinda decided she wanted to enjoy that instead of descending into another rant. "Yeah, Chett's not even on my fucking radar anymore. Still, I might send him a virus or two-- just so he doesn't feel too irrelevant. To me, the bastard was kinda like my father." ...in the sense that Inna resented both, mostly, but there was no need to point that out-- 'cause, you see, she was entirely okay with her own family's fucked up dynamics. Trauma what? Just a meaningless cluster of six letters!

Taking the controller away from Liora, Inna began browsing the catalogue. The intense focus this demanded? It masked the blush on her cheeks pretty well, the blonde thought, and so she stuck her tongue out to complete the illusion. (Actually, the blush wasn't even there! Friends didn't blush upon being complimented by other friends, so this must have been some weird allergy to, uhhh... physical closeness? Maybe. Like, evolution was a scientifically proven fact, and given how often people had tried to strangle her in the past, it made sense for her body to develop this kind of reaction. It was merely trying to warn her! Mystery fucking solved.)

"A-ah. Yeah, I do. And thanks, I guess? That makes me..." What, elated? True, but too fucking dramatic. Scared? Also true, in a way, though mood-destroying. Confused? Very much true, except it was the kind of truth nobody fucking wanted to hear! "...happy," she finally settled on before huddling a bit closer. (Allergies had to be beaten via consuming large amounts of the allergen, right? 'Cause afterwards, when nothing fucking happened, your dumbass body would have to acknowledge it had been overreacting. Thank god for logic!) "That's the one good thing to come out of this nonsense, I'd say. But, Li, it is true that I don't know that much about you," the blonde shrugged before turning on the first episode. "And I'd like to. So, uh. I dunno. What do you normally watch? Any favorite singers? Stuff like that. And, ooh, yeah. Favorite presents to receive? For research reasons, of course."
 

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LIORA TRIHN
Wow, so Inna actually has a justification for her irresponsible ways. That's not something Liora ever expected to learn about the blonde, but she seems to full of many surprises––that is not to say that Liora in anyway agrees with her companion's opinion, she is merely impressed there is deeper thought. "Well, taxes are how services are paid for and such so they are necessary," not that her mother pays taxes. Not that Liora does not know how offshore accounts or shell-companies work. Not that Liora will acknowledge that that's where a majority of her wealth resides. "And people work hard for their money, so I don't know––if they want three houses then who cares? Besides, the best investment is in real estate––it's the best thing you could leave your children with." Obviously, Liora is missing Inna's entire point and it's not on purpose; the bourgeoisie just has worms for brains (thankfully, de-worming is possible). "Responsibilities are not as awful as you're making them out to be; I mean, they give you goals to work towards and the feeling when you achieve your goals? It's," underwhelming, "so satisfying." Until it leaves you empty and you lie awake at night wondering what will actually fill the void in your heart. Liora cannot relate to that sentiment, because she refuses to!

However, when it comes to talking about their pre-destined responsibilities? Liora can agree with a lot of Inna's points. "Yeah, I mean there are a lot of places that can probably burn and the world would continue on––but what if the people living in those places are innocent? Like, I'm not claiming I'm some moral authority or anything, but I guess the idea of demons pillaging the Earth isn't really all that soothing; so if we save the world at the cost of also saving France or fucking England, I'd prefer that to bowing to demon overlords," she shrugs. Though Inna's later point regarding when they'd know the world is truly saved (and by whose standard)? That causes the woman to sink further into the couch. She doesn't mind hard work, but she's barely lasted this week and the thought of her life just being an endless cycle of demon fights and closing rifts? "Maybe we can... Maybe we can find a shortcut?" Wow, Liora actually suggesting something akin to cheating? That's the Inna-effect for sure. "Like, yeah, we have to close all these rifts or whatever... But maybe if we figure out who their bitch-ass leader is, we can just cut the head off the snake and the rest will also crumble? The monsters we've fought so far seem kind of hive-mind in that their task all seems to be the same, so if we kill the queen maybe the entire colony will collapse?" Not that Liora thinks she's ready to face the leader of the monsters just yet, but if defeating her means ending this bullshit sooner? She'll spend every waking moment practicing magic until she's logged her 10,000 hours of mastery.

As Inna finds the show, Liora notes that it is one of those Japanese cartoons and she has the thought to leave the room and refuse to watch something born of nerd depravity, but since Inna made the suggestion, she stays put and keeps quiet. Besides, her friend had just admitted that she had been happy Liora thought she was neat and she does not want to tear her down so soon (or ever, actually). One episode probably will not kill her. So she settles into her seat, slyly scooting closer to her friend so that there is some touching––like her shoulder resting comfortably against the blonde. She munches on one of the cookies too and sighs with how good they are. If being friends with Inna means exploiting her talent for baking, she wishes she had befriended her much sooner.

While all of Inna's question distract her from watching the show, she doesn't mind not watching. "You want to know more about me?" if she sounds surprised, that's because she is. People usually aren't interested in her because she rarely gets close enough to people to allow them to get interested. Some have tried and those some have ended up horribly burned. "Um, okay... Well, I guess Adele is my favorite artist and before her I really liked Alicia Keys. I don't really watch a lot of things," because there are more productive ways to waste time. "But when I do, I like dramas. In college I binged Criminal Minds," and admittedly gave herself a lot of nightmares about potentially being murdered in some horrific way. "I tried Grey's Anatomy too, but there is just too much to catch up on and it's honestly not even that realistic." Not that Criminal Minds is realistic, but at least that show has the thrill factor involved. Grey's mostly made her roll her eyes. " I do like some documentaries, but it depends... And, I guess, um, since you revealed your secret show––once every other year, I'll watch Bridge to Terabithia to cry." It's the only way she knows how. Otherwise she just won't and she figures one cry every two years is perfectly healthy.

Now, the subject of gifts... She doesn't think about Inna's intentions knowing this piece, but she is still hesitant. The truth is, it's been a while since she's received a gift and so it's been a while since she's thought about what's she wanted. "I guess, I would have said something about accessories for my car, but since I don't have her anymore..." she trails off, sounding sad over the loss of her child. She'll have to get a new one when she's ready. "Honestly, something practical? Like socks. I hate knick-knacks––they're so useless and just take up space. There's no point to them." Then thinking back on the gifts she has received, they all had been practical. At least the ones from her mom––some of them were a little harsh, like the thinly veiled facial treatments during her years of being an acne-ridden teen or the tutoring for her art history class after she failed the midterm (she got a B)––point being, they all had immediate uses. However, does that mean she actually liked them? She isn't sure. She folds her arms over her chest as she tries to conjure a better answer––not wanting to sound this boring to Inna, because at some point she realized socks are a crap answer. "Chocolate. I like chocolate––like truffles. Anyway," she clears her throat, a bit uncomfortable with the spotlight, "what about you?""
 
'People work hard for their money?' Bitch, what? Citation fucking needed, because Inna wasn't at all sure whether she agreed with that premise. Like, yeah, hard workers did exist-- miners and the like, and nurses who spent their days wiping other people's dirty asses. So, you know, precisely zero percent of the group that saw it necessary to buy three fucking houses, a car that farted butterflies and meals covered in literal gold! Like??? Had nobody watched those cartoons about evil corporations and unjust bosses in their childhood? Not that Inna advocated building your entire life around a fairytale, just like the fans of a certain bespectacled wizard-centered franchise had, but come the fuck on. There was a reason why this archetype existed in the collective consciousness, and it wasn't because the regular folks liked to oppress the poor, poor millionaire class. (Even though they fucking should have! Because power in numbers and all that. Had they decided to bully them for... uhhh, sucking at being human, the world would have turned into a goddamn utopia years ago. Yes, that was right! Bullying would have been a powerful corrective mechanism, had it been aimed at people who actually fucking deserved it and not on, say, girls who liked other girls. As if it wasn't the superior taste!)

So, yeah, you could say that Inna had a lot of thoughts about pretty much everything that had left Liora's mouth. At the same time, though? The blonde suspected that most of it would be like pouring oil into the proverbial fire, and for once in her fucking life, she didn't want to argue. No, this was comfy, you see? And in this bitch-ass world, any sense of comfiness had to be protected! So, safe topics it was. Safe topics such as... uhhh, Liora's music and movie taste, apparently. (Incredibly pedestrian taste, some part of her wanted to say, but she shut it down. It was just different, okay? Different in that 'an alcoholic mom with three kids and a good-for-nothing husband might enjoy that' way, though Inna guessed she should have been thankful Liora liked anything at all. Like, her just staring into the wall and formulating plans for world domination in her spare time had been an option as well! All things considered, Criminal Minds wasn't that tragic.) "Wow okay, I wouldn't have expected that," Inna chuckled. "Were you gathering inspiration for your mafia era, huh?" 'Cause yeah, she wouldn't put that past Liora 'In Love With Her Career" Trihn. And like, Adele can sing, so that's valid. As for myself, I mostly listen to Russian pop, I guess," Inna admitted. "It's nice to hear your mother tongue from time to time. Anyway, now that I know your taste, I have soooo many things to recommend! Like Perfect Blue. Mate, you gotta see Perfect Blue-- it's for people who enjoy crime and mindfucks. Your brain will spin in circles and you'll thank the director, trust me."

Her companion's choice of gifts, of course, didn't shock her-- because duh, Liora actually going for something fun would have been the equivalent of finding out your sweet grandmother who baked the most delicious cookies did coke in secret, except that more shocking. Still, that didn't mean it wasn't fucking sad. Like, who unironically liked socks?! (In that moment, Inna decided to make it her mission to rock Liora's goddamn world. Not being to do it in bed was a bummer, yeah, but she could still pull it off via giving her the most wonderful, yet also most impractical thing under the sun! Now, what would it be? A taxidermy self-help kit? A cookbook that only contained recipes from M&Ms? An obnoxiously long, glittery cape with which she'd sweep the entire street every time she decided to go somewhere? Inna's imagination was a wild, wild place, and now it had something to work towards to!) "Hmm," the blonde stroked her chin, "I don't know. I don't really get a lot of gifts. But, if I had to answer, I'd like to get something fucking different, you see? Like, stuff that will make me think of that person immediately. Shit I wouldn't buy myself, I guess. Or Pokemon memorabilia!" her eyes lit up. "You can never fucking go wrong with that." Now, the chocolate thing? That was some useful info-- next time, Inna could bake some aggressively chocolatey cake and Liora would fucking melt, she was sure. All had to bow before the culinary skill of Inna Awesome Orlovskaya!

The following hours continued to be comfy, with the closeness and Akko's misadventures and shit, but... well. Weren't they a little too comfy? Complaining about that was like complaining about getting too much ice-cream, yeah, though Inna felt there was some logic to this. Like, this level of comfiness should have been reserved for your gf! Which Liora fucking wasn't, and would never be, despite kinda treating her that way. (And if this continued? Inna knew, on some level, that it would culminate in another embarrassing confession. 'Wink, wink, nudge, nudge! In case you ever change your mind, I'll be there, waiting for you like an obedient puppy. Now, would you like to step on my back?' ...yeah, no, that was an outcome so fucking awkward that Inna had to prevent it at any cost. At. Any. Cost!)

...which was the exact moment where her phone vibrated.

'Hey, sweetie! Did you give me your number just to tease me! C'mooon, the night is so young and you gave me so many ideas. You know where to find me.
xoxo'


***

'Ah, Inna,' an unknown voice whispered in Liora's ear, sweet and smooth like honey. Somehow, it felt hot, too-- like branding iron thrust straight into her fucking brain. ...or maybe that was caused by all those flashes? Glimpses, really, because Liora's reality seemed to be calibrated towards receiving... some additional signals. This was Sol's living room, with the TV still on, and yet, yet it wasn't! 'Cause, uh, there was an additional bed in one of the corners. When she blinked, it disappeared, but with another blink, it was back-- like a fucking headache that just wouldn't go away. And on that bed? A white-haired woman was pinning Inna down, and biting her neck. 'Why are you still clothed, hmmm?' the stranger asked. 'Have you no manners? It isn't nice to tease a lady like that, you know.'
 

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