a. z. fell
She/Her
30
December 21st
Fortree, Hoenn
Bisexual
Surviving
Civillian
i'm just a demon who goes along with hell as far as she can.
[attr="class","samcam"] With the brief grinding of gears over and broken glass now swept up, they can turn to other matters of import.
“Well, that’s fucking shit, isn’t it?” she snorts, considering all the saccharine bottles for a moment before shrugging and beginning to dump glugs from each into a draft glass. “Here, here’s more fucking trauma for you. Trauma you can’t even fucking deal with because there’s gonna be more right behind it and you have to save the goddamn world.” It’s a bitingly sweet concoction with the consistency of lava lamp goo that burns on the way down but doesn’t even taste like alcohol anymore. “Why can’t the world just go save it’s own goddamn self,” she says, around a wince and a cough.
She listens to Freya talk and considers, briefly, perhaps, the merits of mercy in a time like this. But there is little of it, in her, and maybe that’s been the difference between her and Freya-- between her and a lot of people, really, throughout her life-- is that she’s always been a little bit off the mark, a little bit wrong in the head, a little bit empty where she should be full-- or full of the wrong things.
“Whoop-de-doo. When we get there and start doing interdimensional war crimes on other civilizations for no goddamn reason other than it gets us hot to go, I’ll make sure to travel back in time and smack myself in the face for this.”
The technicalities do not matter. This is not a blueprint. This is not detail work. They hurt someone important to her and so now it is time to hurt them back.
“So are they, like, up in this ship? Right now? Just chillin’, killin’?” She takes another deep pull of her horrible potion and rasps, “Goddamn besties with every fucking legendary on the fucking roster and we can’t even make it to outer space.” She drums fingers along the kitchen peninsula, thinking. "I wonder if I could take the metalloid I made for Lyune's wing and... make it stable enough for space travel..." she's sketching in the condensation on the marble without even realizing. "Can't be that hard..."
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