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

[Syntra]

"Forget about the money?" Inna asked, absolutely horrified. Just, Jesus fucking Christ. Might as well have asked her to forget about eating, huh? Because that was essentially what Liora was suggesting here! Like, yeah, her bank account didn't look nearly as sad as it had a few years ago, but these things stayed with you. Not everyone had the privilege of being a pampered little princess-- Inna still remembered the time when choosing between paying her rent and buying new shoes had been a real fucking dilemma, and she did not particularly want to re-live that part of her past. ...or any part of it, really. She had left it behind for a reason, and that reason wasn't so she could get all nostalgic about it later! (Nostalgia was such a stupid concept, anyway. 'Boo hoo, my life sucked, but it didn't, actually, because it all happened long ago!' Like??? Did the humanity collectively suffer from Alzheimer's, or something? That probably made living in this shit world easier, Inna supposed, but still! Not relatable at all, man. Building your entire personality around old grudges and unresolved traumas was infinitely more stylish, thank you very much.)

Of course, Saint Liora cared not for her distress. Instead, she went on and on about-- about responsibility, and the importance of fancy values, and shit like that. Was Inna actually dreaming here? Because, y'know, the last time she had checked, Liora herself also killed people for money. She did it quite proficiently, too, otherwise Chett would not have given her so many key missions. And yet, yet she decided to play the part of a wide-eyed idealist? With all that blood on her hands? Fucking rich! Clearly, Liora had chosen the wrong career path-- clown make-up would have suited her more than... uhhh, whatever uniform people involved with the mafia wore. (So what if there wasn't any? Oh, piss off. The metaphor may have been a little shaky, but it was hers, dammit, and she intended to keep it alive. So, fuck realism! Why did people fetishize it so much, anyway? Were they not sick of living in reality every goddamn day, paying taxes and shit?)

All her thoughts of metaphors dissolved into nothingness, though, when the flames engulfed her hand-- and when Liora came at her with her accusations. (...damn. Could she be actually right? Inna had refused to even contemplate the thought before, but it didn't seem as far-fetched now-- not with this neat little demonstration, anyway. What if she had burned those people? Some of them had almost been her friends, and she hadn't wanted them to die, and-- wait, no. Why should she let something as petty as evidence convince her? Did she look like a fucking cop? Because, spoiler alert, she wasn't! No, shoving the guilt under the metaphorical rug would work just fine, she was sure. Plenty of place left there!)

"First of all," Inna huffed, "it's my hand, not my ass. Just thought I'd teach you something about anatomy. And also, that I can apparently do this doesn't mean shit. Can you prove that you didn't do it?" Ah, reversal-- her favorite technique! Who cared it made no sense? It should distract Liora from her original accusation, and that would be more than enough. "I bet it's that weird-ass mansion. This human torch thing sure as fuck is news to me, so something there must have triggered it-- which means it could have been the same with you as well. So, like, do you have footage of the incident? 'Cause without it, you're just spouting slander." Alternatively, as the old wisdom said-- pics, or didn't happen.

Except that then Liora started showing off her, uh, diplomatic skills, and with every word she said, Inna's expression grew more and more annoyed. A henchman, huh? How had this girl survived to adulthood again? Like, someone should have put a bullet in her brain by now. Don't get her wrong, she was used to not getting nice things unless she fucking worked for them, but what kind of probability-defying bullshit?!

"Real charming, honey. I bet that's why you're so popular at parties. But anyway, sleep on it? Only for me to wake up and find out that you ran away with the stupid book because you felt like saving the world? No, I don't think so. I'm not gonna chase you to hell and back just to fucking retrieve it. Unless," Inna's eyes flashed dangerously, "you're inviting me to spend the night at your place. I'd be open to discussing it there, with the book in sight. Plus, if you're oh so nonchalant about money, feel free to pay me for keeping my mouth shut. What's your hourly rate?" ...what? Inna hadn't gotten out of her debts by being picky. Opportunities were meant to be seized!

 

[starboob]

Liora took a half step back when Inna's hands erupted into flames. (She would never say this aloud or even let on that she felt this way, but she was irritated that the blonde could control fire––control being a relative term in this instance. She wondered what it felt like to wield that kind of power. All she got was some stupid magic Google Maps installed in her brain. Turn left at nearest secret library.) She could feel the last bits of her patience leaving her body each time Inna had to counter what she had just said––Liora was willing to ignore how she frequently did the same, because that was obviously different. She actually added depth to the conversation and had intelligent things to say.

Anyway, she knew she shouldn't have been surprised that Inna was not going to let her walk off with the book––she wouldn't have trusted the blonde with it either. And, in all honesty, while she had not actively been thinking about running off with it, it was fair to assume the thought would eventually cross her mind and once that happened the odds of her screwing over Inna would increase to 75 percent. She sighed, annoyed, but she was far too drained to think of a way out of letting the blonde into her home (again); she wasn't even sure if there was a way for her to get away without a brawl ensuing.

"Fine. If you want to have a sleepover and gossip about the apocalypse, then I guess you are my guest." she said, ignoring the comment about money (how else do the rich stay rich?) while she rolled her eyes. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her car keys, "I'm driving."

▸▸Fast Forward▸▸
The drive was rather quiet. She wasn't interested in talking, anyway; her mind was more preoccupied with reviewing everything that had happened. To her surprise (and utter annoyance), her mind kept returning to those few images of those two strange versions of herself and Inna, the ones who seemed friendly––intimate even; nothing like how they were now. She knew it wasn't as important as the rest of what had happened, but the scenes kept replaying themselves as if there was a secret hidden somewhere in them. When they did, finally, arrive at her place she packed and filed away those thoughts and wordlessly stepped out the car, not waiting for Inna at all as she headed up to her apartment.

As soon as they entered her place, she went to go make a single-serving pot of coffee––again being her usual hospitable self. She figured she wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight as she was not naive enough to think Inna wouldn't steal the book while she was asleep; so, yes, she did plan on staying up all night. Once the coffee was ready, which only took a few seconds, she pulled the chair from the dining room table into the living room, dropped the backpack onto the coffee table, and then sat down with her legs crossed.

"Even if I were going to pay you to keep your mouth shut––do you really think I'm stupid enough to believe you won't just take that, take the book, and collect with Chett?" she asked, starting the conversation exactly where it had left off in true Liora fashion. "I don't trust you and you don't trust me," she stated, matter of factly because it was a matter of fact. "So forget about the fucking money––because I'm sure you'll find a way to get paid––why the fuck are you comfortable handing the book over?" Even if Liora had done some questionable things while working for the mafia, things perhaps legitimate infiltrators would not have done (at times, her own ruthlessness surprised her), she did think it was justified to draw the line at ending humanity. That seemed like a reasonable line to have. "The world fucking sucks, I get that, but it's going to be actual Hell if you hand the book over," because Liora sure as shit wasn't going to be a part of this; she'd take her chances with Chett if it meant she could wash her hands clean of this. She wouldn't have anything to do with completing this assignment. The greedy asshole could take all the credit if she wanted––this was too much for her.

There was a part of her, small and unnoticed, that was hurt Inna wasn't taking her side. It was easy enough to ignore, for the time being, because she was more exhausted than anything else. She also realized using logic with someone who couldn't have cared less about facts was an inane, so she tried to imagine what might convince the blonde. "Let's at least see what this thing can do––I mean other than invading our minds and spitting nonsense." That seemed like something reckless Inna might like, right? (She really didn't know anything about the blonde.) She set down her mug on the floor and reached for the backpack and emptied its contents onto the table (i.e., the book, the smaller book, and a first-aid kit). "It stopped glowing, so I think that's a good sign it's safe to touch... Unless you're too chicken-shit," she said, raising a brow as she reached for the smaller book (mostly to give herself an excuse not to touch the tome as she was still weary of its mystery and she was almost certain she could antagonize Inna into picking it up again anyway).

 

[Syntra]

Silence was something Inna loathed. It just felt... oppressive, you know? Kind of like death. Not that she knew what dying was like, of course-- since the god or whatever supernatural entity ran this bullshit world didn't exactly hand out fucking informational pamphlets. Still, everything had always grown awfully quiet after she had pulled the trigger, so it wasn't hard to make that connection. Silence = death. Death = no fun. No fun = no good. Simple equations to be sure, but like, everyone had to agree with that analysis, right? Everyone aside from Liora, it seemed, who didn't even have the decency to turn on the radio. Just, sheesh. What kind of psycho travelled without music, anyway? Someone who liked to be alone with their thoughts? Scandalous! Scandalous and suspicious, as well execution-worthy as far as Inna was concerned. Clearly, Liora wasn't human-- and all those survival horror movies showed in staggering detail what exactly happened when you let zombies roam free. (And, no, it wasn't birthday parties. Or any parties at all, actually, because the fuckers, just like Liora herself, couldn't appreciate a good song!)

It was almost, almost a relief when the other woman actually opened her mouth-- never before had Inna thought it would come to this, but here she was. Desperate times, desperate... preferences? Probably. Thankfully, though, Liora started spewing her usual poison, and that sort of re-established the old balance. You know, the kind of balance where she was the voice of reason and Liora a fucking bitch? Yeah, that one. Ahh, her safe space! Here, wallowing in pointless hatred, Inna felt right at home.

"Hmm, I dunno," the blonde shrugged. "Maybe because I don't believe in what random enchanted books tell me?" Now that was a sequence of words she had never thought would come out of her mouth, but again, she also hadn't expected her hand to turn into a fucking flamethrower, so perhaps this was just her new life-- getting shocked by literally everything. Marvelous. "How do you know that the book is telling the truth, huh? Maybe it's manipulating you because it senses you're a dumbass." Which, not the most diplomatic statement ever, but it wasn't like Liora had ever spared her feelings. So, karmic justice! ...or something. "I mean, do you know anything about these things? Because I sure as hell don't. It might be trying to use us as pawns for some creepy, book-y bullshit. If we bring this to Chett, though? We get money, 100%. A guaranteed outcome instead of this fucking Russian roulette. Capiche, princess?" Then Inna shot a resentful glance at Liora's coffee-- like, would it kill her to behave like a human being for once? Her standards weren't even that high to begin with as she mostly hung out with people like Chett, who could barely be classified as human themselves, and yet the other woman managed to crawl under that bar. Impressive! "Nice host skills, by the way. Where did you learn that? In some fucking gulag?"

The conversation quickly turned to another topic, though-- to something much more interesting than their usual bickering, actually. Much more interesting and much more dangerous. "...what?" Inna raised her eyebrow and leaned closer. "Why should I be touching the thing? You wanted to keep it as a souvenir, so you get to be turned into a fucking toad here. I'll watch from here. If you're nice to me, I'll buy you a spacious terrarium, too." There was no way for Liora to convince her-- literally no fucking way, okay? ...well, except for poking her fragile ego, that was. "Pfft. Of course I'm not afraid!" Inna shouted, for some reason very offended that Liora might consider her to be a coward. (An attempt to preserve her image, perhaps? Yes, yes, let's go with that. Who cared that it made no sense? Definitely not Inna!)

Before she could change her mind, the blonde grabbed the book. "See? Nothing. Must have run out of battery, I guess." As if to spite her, though, the thing started glowing once more, and a few inches above its pages, a fucking hole was punched into... uh, the space-time continuum? Look, Inna didn't understand this bullshit. What she did understand, though, was that here, in Liora's soulless apartment, a window to another world was opened-- a window showing them a vision of a white, antigue-looking building. Something Roman, most likely? Identifying it was hard, partly because she hadn't majored in archeology and partly because, uhh, it was on fire. On fire and surrounded by demons. The stairs leading up to it were covered by blood, red like the most precious of rubies, and... Hey, was that fucking Chett beheading someone? Wow.

'Your first stop,' a mysterious voice resonated in her ears. 'Seal the rift, and reclaim what is yours. Become what you once were.'

 

[starboob]

​

Inna struck a nerve when she suggested that Liora was a dumbass––it nearly derailed her from what was most pressing to listing off all of her academic accolades (nerd alert). But just as she was about to open her mouth to do just that, she was reminded why they were even having this nightmare of a slumber party. Immediately, she shut her mouth and her brows knitted together; there wasn't anything she could say to counter Inna, because, on the list of secrets that Liora kept, being a secret magician with knowledge of prophecies was not one them. She knew that she didn't have any foundation to substantiate her worries. "Well," she started, but stopped once the blonde called her princess and something in her stomach leapt up to her throat. It was hard to concentrate after that so she occupied herself with chugging the rest of her coffee––clearly she was experiencing the early stages of delirium.

"If you wanted fucking coffee, you should have brought your own," she said dryly, breezing past anything else Inna may have brought up. They weren't here to talk about Liora's sub-par hostess skills (if Inna had wanted to have a comfortable night she should have stayed at her own place). They were here so that Liora could convince Inna to see her side of things so that she wouldn't doom humanity for money.

Anyway, she watched as yet another apocalyptic portal opened, this time in the middle of her living room (she could already hear Inna's nonsensical remark about how maybe Liora signed the lease on a flat with magic portals or something else completely illogical and stupid). She made a quick mental note that the book would likely never be safe to touch if they wanted to be omen free. (She also wondered why they couldn't just read it. Though Liora recalled that the books in the library hadn't been written in anything recognizable, she figured if it was as magical as it was supposed to be it could translate itself. Apparently, there wasn't a Rosetta Stone for magic tomes.)

In any case, she actually did recognize the place that was being shown––sort of; the specific location was unknown, but she was able to identify the building style having taken a filler course on ancient architecture in college. The Roman arches and Corinthian columns were the main giveaway that this was likely in Italy, but the rest of those connecting thoughts were cut short as the image panned up blood-soaked steps, demons slithering about the basilica, all leading up to an image of... their boss participating in human sacrifice? (She didn't really believe that he was slaying the demons.)

"Okay," her brows furrowed together, "that just about proves handing this over is going to be absolut––" her gloating was cut short by a pounding knock at the door. She looked at Inna as if the blonde was somehow responsible for the disruption; however, that accusatory look was more out of habit than anything else, because the actual feeling she had meant to communicate was confusion. It was the middle of the night––she wasn't expecting visitors.

This couldn't be good. Fear immediately flooded her system, keeping her frozen in her chair. Her fists clenched in her lap and she took a deep breath; as she released it she felt a strange split from herself and her body.At first, she thought nothing of it. Instead, having calmed her nerves some, she rose from her seat and walked over to the door––not at all noticing that she had left her body behind, sitting in the chair with glassy eyes.

When she went to look through the peep-hole she passed through the door instead, and stood halfway between her apartment and the hallway which was filled with a group of familiar colleagues. (That shock alone was enough for her to not question how she was seeing through her door.) There were four of them outside in the hallway and perhaps another one or two lingering around the complex––if she had to guess; they were armed, clearly. Between them all, she heard them mumbling conversations and was able to catch a small snippet:

'Not sure––surprised it's these two.'

'Chett was so sure they woulda held each other 'ccountable to not steal his shit.'

'At least he said we could shoot 'em.'

‘Let’s just break the damn door—'

After hearing that she immediately pulled herself back into the apartment and didn't notice her literal out of body experience until she turned and was staring at herself, her vacant body, in the chair. 'What the fuck?' She thought, as she approached her still form and stared into her (own) glassy eyes. As she leaned forward and reached to touch her own face, the second her spirit made contact with her corporeal form she was pulled back into her body, sitting again; whole again. 'Weird...' Did Inna notice that? That didn't matter, she was more interested in figuring out how Chett seemed to know they were having a debate on whether or not to hand over the tome. (She made a mental note to unpack the out of body experience later).

"Did you fucking tip off Che––" she was cut-off again, by another knock, this one more forceful and a voice thundering from the other side.

"We know you little snake bitches are in there––we don't mean to cause you any trouble." That statement alone was bad news because it usually meant trouble was guaranteed to follow––especially in their line of work. "Just let us in, we wanna talk."

'Oh right.' There actually was no time to accuse Inna of tipping off Chett (much to her dismay), because they needed to get out of there and fast. "The fire escape is in the kitchen," she said, moving to grab her bag, its contents, and shoving them into Inna's chest. "Get out, I'll meet you outside––" she could hear them smashing into her door; she could hear the door cracking with each crash. She looked over her shoulder, then back at Inna. (The door came off its hinges.) Why was she trusting her all of a sudden? Believing in Inna? 'Don’t let me down.'

"Times up, cunties."

 

[Syntra]

"Aww, shit," Inna muttered under her breath. Like, technically she didn't know why the visitors came, but this situation kind of resembled everyone's favorite nightmare scenario-- namely, the one in which you headed home from work at night, minding your own damn business, and five blokes with baseball bats surrounded you out of fucking nowhere. Now, how could this possibly end? With them buying you cotton candy? Yeah, if you unironically believed that, Inna was jealous of your optimism. (Not of the casket that you would end up in soon, though. The blonde wasn't exactly choosy when it came to her living situation, but there was a fine line, and being dead kind of crossed it.)

Oookay, so how many of them were here? Three? Five? No, more than that. There were a lot of different voices, and judging by the sounds of footsteps-- fuck. At least ten! Man, talk about overkill. What kind of psycho would send a goddamn SWAT team to get rid of two innocent girls?! (...what? Innocence was a very subjective thing, you know. When compared to some war criminals, for example, Inna and Liora were straight up angels.) "Well, I guess we can hope they're just door-to-door salesmen and bet our lives on it," Inna whispered, "or we can, you know, get the hell out of here. I'm choosing the option number two. You going with me?" Because, yeah, Inna would rather give all of her money to some fucking charity before letting herself get dragged into this mess. (Not that she had a lot of qualms about killing left, but she wasn't a fucking Matrix character. Those bullet-evading moves? Yup, total bullshit! Graveyards were full of kiddos who had believed screenwriters more than they should have, and she didn't particularly feel like becoming a part of that statistic.)

...except it seemed that Liora turned into a zombie for real. What the...?! Was she trying to communicate with her mothership or something? 'Cause this wasn't the right time to call your fucking relatives! Frustrated, Inna grabbed the other woman by the shoulders and shook her. "Hey! C'mon, love, stop spacing out. If you fucking ditch me here, I swear those guys will be the least of your problems!" (And that she very well may have left her there? Used her as bait and escaped while the intruders were doing... whatever they had come to do? For some reason, the thought hadn't even crossed her mind-- it seemed as unnatural as the idea putting ice-cream in your hair, or sticking a lipstick in your eye. Unthinkable, really. Probably because only she was entitled to kill her? Yes, yes, that had to be it. Like, Inna hadn't hated Liora for years just to outsource the job to some randos. That wasn't how she rolled, dammit!)

Of course, her efforts went unappreciated. That didn't surprise her, but that she also tried to blame the mess on her? Too far, man. Way too far! "Yeah, I tipped him off, alright-- while also spending the entire day with you, apparently. What a multitasker I am, right? Must be all the gingko biloba I take!" ...wait. Chett had sent those guys? What? How did she know? That mystery had to wait, though, because the the issue of the hitmen standing at their doorstep was becoming quite urgent-- you know, since they were no longer content just standing there? That should probably take precedence here. "Fucking hell. Fine, fine. Right behind you, love!"

The fire escape idea seemed promising-- until, of course, Inna looked out of the window and spotted yet another armed group. "Oh, geez. Are you fucking kidding me?" On the ladder, they'd be sitting ducks! (Well, technically they'd be moving rather than sitting, and humans instead of ducks, but like, shooting someone climbing a ladder was a child's play. Even this bunch of gorillas could pull it off, for fuck's sake!)

Okay. Okay, what now?

Now they fought, apparently, because Chett's lackeys started pouring into the room. "Well, well, well. Meant to disappear without even greeting us, huh?" one of them (presumably their leader) smiled. "Brazen fucking bitches, that's what you are. No manners whatsoever. Hand that book over, though, and I'll let it slide." (...which was, honestly, just about the worst way to approach the matter with Inna. Threats? Those she would have swallowed. Insults? Par for the course. The fake mercy coated in condescending bullshit, though? Yeah, no. She was Inna fucking Orlovskaya, and nobody talked to her like that!)

"Want the book? Well, then take this!" Inna pointed her finger at him, and-- nothing. Naturally. Where were the flames when you needed them, for god's sake? Had she hallucinated the incident or something? Hardly, because the charred bodies sure as hell had been real. No, there had to be some trigger to it. "Uh. Charmander, I choose you?" ...not that, though, since her hand remained distinctly fire-free. Fuck. And this, ladies and gentlemen, was why you should always provide a manual!

"...Charmander?" the guys exchanged glances, somewhere between confused and faintly amused. At least they weren't shooting yet, though, which Inna guessed was nice.

"Look, Mike, she's lost her marbles. Just fucking shoot her." Her heart was suddenly somewhere in her neck, her pulse racing and-- oh. Oh, that seemed to do the trick. A blazing inferno consumed the the room, and all around her, men screamed and burned and rolled on the floor. The problem, though? Her own hand wasn't unscathed. Half of it was covered by large blisters now, and just looking at it made it hurt worse. (Wow. That certainly hadn't happened before-- thinking about the possible causes would have been fascinating if she, you know, wasn't going crazy from the pain.) "The hallway," she managed to hiss at Liora, "c'mon, the front entrance should be unguarded now. Go, go, go!"

 

[starboob]

​

Of all the people in the world that Liora was now stuck with, whether she was fully cognizant of this inconvenient truth or not, she could not believe it was Inna. She also could not believe that Inna had just made a reference to Pokémon in a life or death situation. Or that she would be so reckless as to test out an ability she had absolutely no control over in a life or death situation! (Did she forget that she had a completely functional gun on her hip? That would be quite impressive given they both had spent a good portion of the night threatening to shoot each other.) If they made it through the night, Liora would be shocked.

Since she was the only person using her brain, she grabbed her gun and readied to shoot but it seemed that Inna's Human Torch abilities had finally decided to return. She covered her face as flames engulfed her living room (there went her deposit) and the smell of burning flesh filled her nose for the second time this night. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Inna's blistered, damaged hand and gathered from the way she hissed at her that the wound was just as agonizing as it looked. She didn't say anything, only gave Inna a concerned, albeit slightly judgmental, look before she nodded and took the lead since the blonde was possibly incapacitated.

As she led them out of the complex, gun raised and ready to shoot any threat that came their way, there were a number of things on her mind. The first being that her apartment was on fire and she wondered if she should pull the alarm––but then she remembered that since they hadn't exactly been given time to pack a go-bag, all of her documents, all of her evidence and records were in the apartment. Burning. Now she was kind of relieved it was on fire––hopefully it would be devastating enough to destroy her work (even if it pained her––she would mourn the loss later), because she really didn't need to give Chett two reasons to kill her. One was enough. 'Okay, I'll just pull the alarm once we're down these steps,' she thought, guessing that between now and reaching the next alarm the fire would have spread into her bedroom.

The next thing on her mind, which was a running check-list of worries at this point, was how she was going to treat Inna's burn wound? And how long could they wait before they would have to seek an actual medical professional? However, just as she was putting together a plan to address her growing concerns and just as they were reaching the last step, one of Chett's henchmen kicked the door at the bottom of the stairwell open. But before he could even register the dark haired woman, she had sent a bullet through his face and his body fell backwards onto the pavement. She pulled the fire alarm, stepped over the deadman, exited the building––and she actually checked to make sure she had not lost her least favorite blonde.

Even she could admit that this was largely her fault (which reminded her that another thing she needed to to add to her list: come up with a retort for when Inna inevitably figured out and voiced that this situation was her fault) and maybe that's why she felt a responsibility to get Inna out of this situation, alive––plus, she had already maimed herself saving both of them so Liora figured she owed her. They were even now.

Anyway, she still didn't know how Chett had known they even had the book or that they were even considering lying about the night (it wasn't even a full agreement)... And that became one more thing she was mulling over in between shooting another one of Chett's bozos in the knee as she navigated them through the parking garage. She could hear a few more voices coming as they made the final sprint towards her car, which was already unlocked and waiting for them to slip inside. Once in the vehicle, she started the engine, rolled down her window and aimed to shoot another assailant, this time near the crotch (she liked variety when it came to live target practice. Maybe if those clowns had bothered to know anything about their targets, other than that they were 'bitches,' they might have known to make themselves harder targets to hit since one of them was Liora). 'Idiots.' She settled back into the driver's seat, still leaving them without radio as she peeled out of the complex parking lot with the last of the two lackeys shooting at Liora's car. (Look, there were more important things to do than figure out a getaway playlist; if Inna was so pressed about silent drives she could risk getting her hand slapped for touching the radio.)

Of course, getting away didn't mean Liora was any more relaxed; now she was paranoid that they were being followed. Her fists tightened around the wheel, turning her knuckles white. The thing about Liora, was that, while she was a very good driver, technically, she was also a fast driver. Back in her early days, when she had been left with getaway car duty, she had been known for using impressive maneuvers to get out of hairy situations, but usually not without making her entire team sick. Now was a lot like one of those getaway situations––with her swerving through the streets and making eradicate turns in the event they were adding 'car chase' to the laundry list of things they were going to experience tonight––like could they catch a break? Or was the Universe a bigger bitch than Liora?

"So you know you don't have to be such an idiot, right?" She asked, making a sharp left. "You have a gun? Or at least I thought you did since you have been threatening to fucking shoot me all night." The last part was kind of mumbled as she narrowly avoided crashing into another vehicle (well, to the inexperienced eye it would have been a close call, but Liora knew what she was doing).

"Anyway, there's a first-aid kit with the backpack," she said, combing her fingers through her hair. "There should be painkillers in there, but you need to get that under running water." That was about as much help as she could give since she was driving (she did not want to hear it from Inna about her poor bedside manner). Unless Inna wanted to consult that magic conch of a book to see if it had any hints on healing burns, it would have to wait until they stopped again; and, to be honest, Liora wasn't quite sure when she would feel comfortable doing that. "Did you roast your trigger finger or can you still shoot if those fuckers tail us?" She made another sharp turn as her eyes watched the rearview mirror.

 

[Syntra]

Inna was an exceedingly patient person. She wasn't the type to gripe when it took some time for her ancient computer to boot up, nor did she bitch about dough seemingly having to rise for ages. Just like every well-adjusted adult, she found something else to do in the meantime-- watching a series, polishing her gun, beating the shit out of her enemies. You know, ordinary stuff. None of the usual distractions were available while stuck in a car with Liora, though, and so her fuse was dangerously close to blowing. And when it did? The fucking Chernobyl explosion would look like a burp in comparison! No, no. Calm down, Inna. You don't wanna kill your chauffeur. As appealing as the idea of Liora's brain being splattered all over the windshield was, driving with a hand this injured seemed like the equivalent of reserving her spot on the local graveyard, and she didn't like that. Way too many people wanted her dead already, so why make things easier for them? Never in her life had Inna accommodated anyone, dammit, and this sure as hell wasn't the time to start with that. If killing her was their goal, the bitches had to earn it.

That line of thought was probably the thing that saved Liora from being straight up slapped-- instead, Inna just pierced her with her stare. "The gun?" she asked, slowly. "You are aware it's a glock and not a fucking AK-47, right? And that everyone else was armed to teeth as well? I would have taken out one of them, maybe, before being gunned down. But, hey, if just shooting them was that simple, why didn't you do it? Too busy thinking of sassy retorts, were you? Well, now's your chance. Stop the fucking car and mow them down like the one-woman army you are, love. I'll be cheering you on from the sidelines!" ...maybe, just maybe Inna was a little bitter, okay? And the pain wasn't helping. (It was white hot and searing, and she felt it pulsing to the rhythm of her heart. Uh oh. This was probably bad, wasn't it? Like, she wasn't a doctor, but that kind of diagnosis seemed easy enough to make. You know, just a step away from judging that the guy you had just emptied your magazine into was, in fact, dead.) "Thanks for the medical advice, though-- I wouldn't have guessed that water could help. Do you have more wisdom to share? That I should breathe to stay alive, perhaps?" And yes, it wasn't the most mature of responses, but like, only the dumbasses who fell victim to peer pressure cared about stuff like that. Nobody but god could judge her, and she knew he wouldn't do it 'cause she'd break his nose. (Besides, what the fuck, man. Unless there was a goddamn oasis in the trunk of her car, Liora's advice was staggeringly useless-- kind of like telling to a drowning person that maybe they should learn how to swim. Just, what was the point here? To rub the salt in her wounds? A new moral low, truly!)

But, yeah-- back to your regularly scheduled drama. Much like Chett, Chett's people also didn't know when to give up, and soon enough, Inna noticed a few cars obviously tailing them. "Shit. Don't they know that no means no?" A few bullets grazed their car in response, and one of them shattered the rear window. "Apparently not," she sighed. "Jesus fucking Christ." Muttering curses in a language that distinctly wasn't English, the blonde reached for her own gun and aimed carefully. "Take this, bastard!" Needless to say, he did-- the gunman who had been shooting at them just seconds earlier stopped, mostly because he fell out of the open window. Heh. One down, million more to go! This would be a fun, fun night.

And that prediction was true, though not in a way Inna would have liked. When ominous clouds covered the sky, she thought nothing of it-- cool, so they'd have a dramatic scenery to go with their chase. Very atmospheric, ten out of ten. Maybe she would have taken a photo or two if she didn't have to, you know, focus on shooting their pursuers before they shot her instead! As it was, however, survival kinda took precedence here. Then the biggest storm you could imagine broke out, though, and-- wow. Did fucking lightning almost hit them? What were the odds? ...pretty high, as it turned out, because it kept happening. It missed them narrowly, and again and again, and once more. Jesus Christ. The air itself tasted of electricity-- hot and sharp, somehow. "Shit! Did you make Zeus angry or something? You can tell the truth, I won't judge you." (Was she scared? Oh, absolutely-- except that Inna's way of coping happened to be smartass comments. Still better than having a mental breakdown, though!)

"Just, uh. Don't fucking stop, or I'll shoot you myself!" ...which, admittedly, wasn't much better than Liora's earlier advice about running water-- since that wasn't exactly a Nobel prize-worthy conclusion, either. Going forward only made sense! At least until the fucking road beneath their wheels disintegrated, kind of like her hopes and dreams, and threatened to swallow them whole. Whoopsie.

 

[starboob]

​

The night just went from terrifying to exhausting back to terrifying without any consideration for Liora's mental well-being. She was fairly good, she thought, at holding down the fort, so to speak, but in times of continued, constant duress she found it even more difficult to be her usual calm, cool, and collected self. Inna was not at all helping this cause––apparently, neither of them were particularly good at lowering another's stress levels.

"There's this fascinating thing you can do right now––it's called shutting the fuck up!" She had half a mind to shove Inna for being so annoying (being herself? Liora didn't know another version of the blonde, to be quite honest), but there were bullets coming at her car and she was trying to keep them alive. As if she already didn't have road rage, she had the pleasure of now driving through the city with Chett's cretins tailing them and shooting at her car. Which pissed her off in ways that Inna had yet to touch, because this car was her child and one of the few luxuries she had truly invested in. If she were 25 percent more reckless, she would have stopped the car altogether and tried to take out their attackers with her glock (should she invest in an AK-47? She really hadn't thought about it until Inna pointed out their non-military grade equipment. It seemed like a good idea in the moment but they would have to survive this nightmare first before Liora could even think about which of her contacts could connect her with a shiny new toy). Luckily for them both, she was not that reckless and instead she punched the gas.

At least Inna was not a useless passenger (that was about the extent of the 'pro' side of the pro/con list of having Inna next to her). Unfortunately, her gratitude was short lived because now, on top of speeding bullets to dodge there were lightning bolts hailing down on them with impossible accuracy. "If you fucking take my earlier advice of shutting the fuck up––maybe I can fucking save our asses!" Liora was terrified as she was annoyed, a true Renaissance woman when it came to emotional dualities, so maybe it would Inna who killed her and not Chett's goblins.

However, she did intend to at least do something before Inna created splatter art with her head (honestly, why not let Inna kill her? She had already more or less detailed how she would do it and, to be honest, Liora didn't know how she'd up dead if it were up to Chett and his lackeys; but she couldn't imagine it would be more pleasant than a quick bullet through her skull). She just needed to think––she needed to concentrate and apparently she couldn't just concentrate on the road since it was disappearing out from under them. "Fucking Christ! Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Here was the plan: stay on the road. That seemed simple enough and she was able to reverse in time that the wheels, the vehicle were back on the road as she turned and landed them on a expressway onramp. Which seemed positive, but before she could give herself a pat on the ass for her maneuvering, the road continued its threats to disappear out from under them. 'How is this fucking fair?' It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to avoid these warp holes in the road (if you thought the infrastructure in the States was getting bad, try navigating these warp holes! Liora would have preferred predictable pot holes in her home country than whatever this fuckery was––she didn't even have time to think this was also Chett's doing).

Okay, so new plan: she didn't have one. The road was disappearing faster than she could avoid it and it felt as if they were getting kettled into a trap––that was highly likely. And maybe it was because they were temporarily suspended in space, because she couldn't outmaneuver magic forever, probably about to die, that Liora felt her heart yearning for home––of course, home was a complicated place for her and so it wasn't so much home as a location that she sought, but the feelings of comfort, safety... things she imagined existed in healthy homes. Again, perhaps it was the fact that they were going to die that random moments of her life began to flash before her––ones of comfort and places that had felt like she could have had a home there. (At least she would die remembering something happy?)

Except, they weren't going to die. As these images flashed through Liora's head, she closed her eyes as if that would help her savor their dulcet taste for just a little longer. She relaxed and when her eyes opened again, she turned the wheel of the car, which may have seemed useless but it felt right in the moment. When she did so, golden streams of light circled around the vehicle like electrons around an atom. She floored the gas, having decided on a direction she wanted to take.

The rays of light enclosed around the car, their shine brightened for a minute, and when the light cleared they were back on a road; they were out of the city. Whatever had happened with those golden rays of light, it had teleported them a significant distance away from the city to a port town that Liora visited from time to time. Compared to the rest of the country, the town architecture stood out as distinctly East Asian in aesthetic with several pagoda-esque buildings; it was a Chinatown of sorts that Liora frequented when the grease-comfort of the take-out places closest to her didn't satiate the need for home in her mouth. Though mainly Chinese, there were a handful of Vietnamese places that lingered throughout the town that she enjoyed. Those establishments were the nearest place where she could get all the soups she never learned to cook.

She checked the rearview mirror to confirm that they had officially lost assailants, the storm, and the disappearing road. While she was still buzzing, shaking from the adrenaline and trying to hold it together so that Inna wouldn't notice, she was not as fearful as before. Though she did not feel entirely safe, it was enough that she was willing to stop. Most of the places were closed, but there was a gas station with a 24 hour convenience market attached. "Get out," she said, flexing her extraordinary conversational skills. "I need to look at your hand." Not that Liora was an EMT or even first-aid certified, but she was concerned and this was how she was going to express such worry. (No, she wasn't going to address that expressway chase; she was distinctly going to blow right past that until they addressed Inna's flambéed hand.)

 

[Syntra]

...shut up? Wow, just wow! Inna had taken the time out of her busy schedule to offer Liora her precious precious, precious insight, and this was what she got in return? A bunch of childish insults? Disgusting. And to think those could very well have been the last words she would ever say! Like, had wolves raised her or something?? Wait, scratch that, not wolves-- wolves were social animals and pretty fucking chill when they weren't hungry, so they would have understood her need to express herself at such a crucial moment. Unlike her colleague, they had a soul. (Plus, wolves were cool and Liora wasn't. Proto doggos with a dangerous side vs. a prickly bitch who knew next to nothing about home decor? Only one of them deserved cuddles, and it sure as fuck wasn't the one who thought having bare walls was a powerful statement. So, no, Liora hadn't been raised by wolves. She had been raised by-- by fucking cactuses!)

...because she was prickly, get it?

Too bad that Inna couldn't share this final insult with the world-- mostly because they were fucking going to die. To hell with roads! (Like, she had known from the very beginning that, statistically, cars were the most dangerous mode of transport. Nothing new here. Between all the crazies behind the steering wheel and the seemingly endless reconstructions, it was a wonder anyone had ever gotten anywhere without participating in a massacre or two, really. Still, was it so wrong to expect some guarantees here? She (mostly) paid her fucking taxes, dammit, and the least the officials could do with that money was to ensure the road wouldn't try to swallow them whole! What was this, rural Russia?! ...and in Russia, this actually kind of made sense because the roads were just mud. Something about asphalt not being communist enough, probably.)

So, Inna closed her eyes and prepared for the sweet, sweet embrace of death. (Honestly, it couldn't be much worse than this. Being on the run with Liora as her only ally, and some creepy book acting as their guide? Dealing with nascent superpowers on top of that? And, most importantly, saving the motherfucking world??? Now that was a joke whose punchline Inna didn't wanna hear. Nah, better to move on and hope for better luck next time. You know, maybe for a life where she wouldn't be the universe's plaything? Or for no life at all, which seriously seemed like the more appealing option right now because she just needed a fucking break. ...plus, who the hell wanted to learn algebra again? Certainly not Inna. Geez, if only she could restart with her old saves!)

To her surprise, death felt suspiciously like riding in a car-- riding in a car with Liora, to be more precise. (Wow. Was this her personalized version of hell? 'Cause if hell translated into having to spend the eternity in a cramped space with her nemesis, Inna wanted her money back! What had she done to deserve this fate, anyway?! ...could it be because of all those murdered people? But, man, humans sucked! Inna should have received a fucking medal for pest control, not-- not whatever this was.) Except that then the pain in her hand reminded her that she was still intimately connected to her physical body, and-- oh. She was alive. She was alive, and the storm was gone. Or rather, they were fucking gone! "How did you do it?" Inna demanded to know, her tone dangerously close to... well, not friendly, but neutral, and that was as friendly as it got with her and Liora.

This shocking peace lasted even after Inna got out of the car-- possibly because, having dealt with so much fuckery at once, she didn't feel like fighting. "Well, okay," the blonde extended the injured arm, "though I'm not sure what you hope to accomplish here. Surprise, surprise, it's fucking burnt. You can't unburn it." They could certainly buy some water at the gas station, cool it down and wrap some bandages around it, though-- and that was exactly what they did. (Liora helping her was... strange, to put it mildly, but Inna figured she was only doing it out of self-interest. Like, they were stuck together for the time being, weren't they? So, the faster she healed, the faster she could stop being a burden. No feelings here, nuh-uh. They still fucking hated each other, just a little less than they happened to hate Chett at the moment, and everyone knew that allyships built on 'my enemy's enemy' logic were incredibly valid. They would probably still kill each other at some point, but now? Being picky wasn't an option, my dude.)

Anyway, it was getting late, and the two had to spent the night somewhere. (The car would do, probably, but Inna refused to even consider that. Just, not happening. If they were doing this, she wanted the luxury of a bed, dammit!)

The universe wasn't as kind as to grant her that wish, though-- at least not without a catch. The motel they found was nothing to write home about, but okay. You know, the kind of establishment where they didn't ask unnecessary questions if you paid upfront. Yay for not having to show them their IDs! No yays for... well, the rest of this.

"So you don't have a reservation?" the middle-aged receptionist asked. (She smelled of cigarettes and broken dreams, and Inna nearly, nearly felt sorry for her. Needless to say, however, her next statement crushed those sympathetic feelings pretty much immediately.) "In that case, we have exactly one room vacant. Oh, and there's only one bed."

 

[starboob]

​

The rest of the night went about as anyone could have expected: extremely terribly. For Liora, at least. Inna, on the other hand, seemed to sleep like an actual log or rock––completely dead to the world. How, remained a complete mystery to the woman. She could not have possibly imagined a way to be so unbothered by everything that had happened (for example, murdering their entire team––close colleagues) that she would actually be able to get her brain to shut up enough so that she could sleep. She spent most of the night on her back, glowering up at the popcorn ceiling with her arms crossed over her chest. Sleepless nights were not necessarily anything new to Liora, but there was a special torture when she was actually exhausted. Too bad every time she closed her eyes to rest, screams echoed in her ears and they were matched with fiery visions. 'This is so annoying.'

Of course, as if things could not grate on her more, at some point, Inna had rolled over and decided to snake her entire body around the woman. Part of Liora wondered if she was doing this on purpose––if she was secretly still awake and playing some psychological warfare on her or if Inna was simply just made of pure obnoxion (the chemical component for obnoxious people, obviously). She did try to worm herself out of this compromising position, but for whatever reason the blonde had a vice-grip in her sleep. 'I am going to kill her.'

Though after a while of being trapped in Inna's heavy embrace, she did have to admit that the blonde was warm and these motel sheets were thin. Eventually the screaming stopped and her body finally succumbed to sleep.

There was not fire burning her colleagues or the world. No demons. No fucking Chett. Just those two sweet, strange women.

▸▸Fast Forward▸▸
When she woke up, Inna was still coiled around her. Except, now the two women were spooning and Liora was the obvious little spoon. The horror didn’t and couldn’t end there—she found that her own treacherous arm was hooked around Inna’s, the one that was wrapped around her waist; she noticed, even, that her own hand had entwined itself with the back of the blonde's bandaged one. 'For fuck's sake.' In one fell swoop, she pulled her hand from Inna's and shoved her elbow backwards into the other woman, effectively evicting her from the bed. That was satisfying. (Liora really needed to start considering the 'comes around' part of the adage 'what goes around comes around.' It was remarkable that she so often forgot––as if she really was someone of untouchable status.) She leaned over the edge where she had shoved the other. "Wake up. It's––" she looked over at the neon clock, "––shit, it's one o'clock. Hope you slept well," she actually meant that last part, even if it sounded sour.

She hurried into the shower before Inna could retaliate.

▸▸Fast Forward▸▸
Her eyes flitted over the menu briefly––more out of habit than actual curiosity. She had been to this restaurant before and already knew what she liked on the menu; not that she had gone out of her way to taste every item and determine which one she liked best. Absolutely not! That would have been a wasteful disappointment of time and hope. Liora was a creature of habit and when she went out, she usually already knew what she wanted; it was just a matter of finding a place that served it. (For example, were they to go to a Japanese place, she would have wanted udon; if it were Mexican, she would want pozole; if it were French? Well, she wouldn't want French food, but, in a pinch, she could settle for a nice bisque.) In this instance, she wanted spicy beef pho––which she would ask to be prepared with an extra kick or two and for it to be served near boiling (she liked to wrap her lips around hot things). Her stomach growled and she hoped the waitress would be over with her tea soon and she hoped Inna knew what she wanted, because she was hungry.

"Remember when you asked me how we escaped last night?" She pushed her menu to the edge of the table. As she recalled the previous night, it felt like it was centuries in the past—with all the bizarre happenings—but that did not make it any less real; she figured they might as well talk about it since it was the only thing they had in common to talk about and, until they sorted this all out with Chett, they were still a team.

Anyway, the prior night, she had mostly ignored the question Inna had posed but now, having rested (she would not acknowledge why), she felt a bit more conversational. "I was thinking of food," she said it without expecting Inna to contextualize the comment––to put together that while they were falling through the space time continuum Liora had been thinking of soup. She also said it as if Inna was supposed to connect all these dots on her own; maybe because Liora didn't know how to connect them on her own. The only thing she knew, in earnest, was that one moment she had been recalling a memory of this restaurant and the next thing she knew a golden light show had taken them to town where the restaurant was located. (And when in Rome, she figured they might as well eat here. Besides, she liked that it was family-owned and operated––especially since the family that worked here seemed happy.)

"I say, we have a week tops before Chett fucking kills us.” Unlike last night, she had decided that it wasn't Inna who had somehow warned their boss that they were potentially going to steal that talking manual (which was under the table and concealed in the backpack); she wouldn’t apologize for the accusation, though. Somewhere, she just realized that it didn't add up––mainly, because she was pretty sure that the blonde wasn’t a tattle-tale. “But I give us three days before we do it ourselves.” See? She could joke. (Just most of her jokes involved murder or other forms of violence. Her April Fool’s day pranks were just as wicked—ask her sister.)

 

[Syntra]

Inna didn't actually sleep like a rock, thank you very much. For starters, rocks didn't sleep. They were also hard and unpleasant while she was soft and sweet, and so Liora should have been fucking happy that she was gracious enough to hug her. Like, c'mon. Obviously, this couldn't happen to her too often-- considering that she was about as cuddly as the average alligator, Inna sincerely doubted that anyone in their right mind would approach her for reasons other than attempting to snap her neck. Just, no. Even Santa Claus being real seemed more likely. So, in other words, letting her cold-blooded ass experience some human warmth was an act of charity! And how, pray tell, did she reward her for her thoughtfulness? With words of thanks? By making a breakfast for her, maybe? Or even by smiling a little, so she didn't constantly have to look at that 'I'm-holding-in-a-fart' face Liora kept making? All wrong. No, she fucking kicked her out of their bed! Unbelievable, really.

"Ouch!" the blonde hissed, not even trying to hide her confusion. (So fucking what? She hadn't exactly slept well, either. Managing to fall asleep had been one thing-- her body had done that on its own, mostly because she had trained it to be able to shut down under literally any conditions. A dumpster would have been as good as that bed, actually. Getting some actual rest, though? That had been a different story, alright. Her dreams had been full of fire, fire and anguished screams, and, shit, it felt like her fucking brain had turned into charred remains as well-- No, she told herself. Don't think of that. Thinking of things is your first mistake. That's when shit always goes downhill, dammit!)

Thankfully, Liora was there, and happened to be annoying enough to cover all of her distraction-related needs. "What is this, fucking shock therapy?" Inna snarled before collecting herself from the ground. Geez, why did her back hurt as well? Oh, right. The shitty fucking bed! The mattress was too soft, and sharing it with another person when the bed had clearly been designed for a single sleeper had not helped. Should have made her sleep in her beloved fucking car. "Doesn't work on burns, I'm afraid," she continued, putting on her usual smile. (Couldn't let Liora know she actually had feelings, you see? Inna had built her reputation of a cool, snarky asshole over the years and it had taken a lot of effort, dammit. Enough effort for her not to let it be destroyed in a single night!) "And don't tell me a single hug had you this pressed, princess. What, had nobody touched you like this before?" Inna raised her eyebrow. "Well, sorry to steal your first time, then. Had I known that, I would have bought flowers for you beforehand. You know, since I'm such a fucking romantic."

After Liora locked herself in the bathroom, Inna looked under the bandages, and came to exactly two conclusions. The conclusion number one: the burns hadn't healed. Duh. The conclusion number two: this fucking sucked! Like, how was she supposed to deal with this being on the run bullshit when one of her hands was literally useless??? And hands having a lot of uses was kinda their entire point!

Anyway, Inna would rather die before begging Liora for help-- especially after that bed incident. (No, she wasn't bitter about it. Nuh uh. What she felt was righteous fury, actually, and it wasn't at all related to the fact the other woman apparently found her so repulsive she couldn't stand her touch for one millisecond. Inna being sensitive about such things? Pffft, as if. She-- she found her gross as well, so this was fine. More than fine, in fact! It was downright great, because they both felt the same and that was the basis of all successful relationships.) So, through gritted teeth, Inna managed to change the bandages on her own. See how much she didn't need her? Haha!

The suggestion to go grab something to eat was a reasonable one, though, and so Inna didn't feel like arguing with her colleague. Or, well, at least not about that.

"...what? Are you impersonating a random word generator or something?" the blonde narrowed her eyes. "'Cause I'd hate to burst your bubble, but this doesn't make a lick of sense." (And, no, she didn't know what she wanted-- picking a meal in a restaurant you had never been to was a stressful affair! What if you ordered something you wouldn't like? Then you'd have a gross meal and a much lighter wallet, and Inna didn't like that prospect at all. Still, admitting to it in front of Liora would be tantamount to social suicide, and so she decided to order whatever she was having. That couldn't possibly backfire on her, right? Right?)

"Make it two days," the blonde smiled, sincere for once. (...what? She was only human, and humans reacted to humor. Duh! Inna could continue to hate Liora and laugh at her jokes occasionally-- multitasking had always been her strong suit, after all.) "I'm surprised we're still both alive, actually. Has to be some kind of personal record!" ...huh. Where had that come from? It couldn't be a record of any kind, mostly because none of them had ever died before. What a weird, weird thought. Must have been the exhaustion, probably. "But anyway. Where do we go from here?" Since, yeah, no point in beating around the bush. "Not that I enjoy your company much, love, but I'm kind of nursing a grudge towards Chett now and he doesn't seem to like the idea of us following the stupid book's stupid instructions. So, I say we need to do exactly that! ...too bad I have no fucking idea where it wants us to go, though," Inna admitted. "What about you?"

Wow, this was dangerously close to a polite conversation! When the waitress came with their soups, she was almost, almost in a good mood, too-- you know, since she was alive, not arguing with anyone and about to eat. The second she put the spoon in her mouth, though? Fucking hell, her tongue was burning! Immediately, Inna turned beet red and began coughing with such passion that it seemed her lungs would come out of her mouth. "Jesus Christ," she gasped, "people actually eat this shit?"

 

[starboob]

“I'm just telling you what happened," she said with a shrug. Obviously, she knew it didn't make any sense but she thought that maybe some of Inna's backwards logic would help her connect all of the pieces. “And it’s not like anything has made any fucking sense since last night.”

Oddly enough, she didn’t mind talking to Inna that much or, at least, not nearly as much as she let on. It was fun to quip with her (at least when Liora felt like she was winning) and she seemed to being a willing antagonist herself. Plus, it wasn’t exactly like Liora had a contact list full of friends she could just dial-up and banter with; hers was filled with more practical people, colleagues, doctors, etc. none of whom she would ever chat casually with... So this was as close to a normal conversation as she had had in a while.

“Is that a threat? Or a promise?" She raised a brow and it was clear the question was serious (or was it flirty?). There was only so long she could go joking about murder before she transitioned into a serious conversation about murder. "Well, yes, Inna––I would hope that each time we came back from an assignment we're setting a personal record for coming back alive." She rolled her eyes. "Do you have a secret score of assignments where you actually came back dead? And if you’re here, now, does that mean even Death has rejected you?” Okay, perhaps that was a little much or too far, but to be fair she was still irked by Inna's earlier comment that suggested she were sexually inept or inexperienced or depraved. (She really had spun herself in circles over(thinking) that one.)

Admittedly, she was surprised that Inna wanted to actually follow the book's cryptic instructions (what the hell did 'become what you once were' even mean?). Though the blonde's following logic cleared up any prior confusion––of course, she was only interested in spiting Chett. She wasn't actually interested in figuring out what the book was, where it came from, or what it was supposed to do. (No, that was Liora and for some reason she wanted to share her curiosity with the blonde. Maybe if they followed this instruction Inna would have a little more conviction?) So this time, when she spoke, she treaded carefully, because for once she actually wanted something from Inna (other than for her smug face to explode). "Well, while I'm flattered you think that I am just a pool of random facts on ancient structures—I have no fucking clue. It's probably burned down anyway." Well, actually she was not sure if that vision was supposed to be from the past or future––Chett was there so that led her to believe it was a warning and not a flashback. She also, somewhere, realized that she had once again defaulted to being unhelpful so she tried starting over and offered, "It looked Italian or Greek...” and then she muttered, “You would think that for a fucking entity that wants us to do its bidding, it would be a little more clear, because you’re not exactly a Dr. Watson to my Holmes." (Yes, this was treading carefully.)

When the soups arrive, Liora was not really paying attention to the blonde—that was until she heard the other coughing and her head whipped up to see a red Inna. Unfortunately, Liora’s sense of humor was slapstick so seeing her colleague in physical discomfort? Well, the bubbly and surprisingly infectious laugh that ripped through the restaurant probably would have surprised anyone who knew Liora; though it seemed genuine to any onlooker—they might even have assumed Inna was a professional comedian and had told the end all be all to jokes. But she was not entirely cruel about the situation (probably because of the dopamine rush) and when she finished suppressing the remaining giggles, she took the soup from Inna (her appetite was surprising, but considering she had transported an entire vehicle, herself, and the hate of her life across coasts just last night? It was wholly expected).

Then when the waitress came by to check on them, she ordered some dumplings for the blonde—which she figured were a safe bet since nearly every culture had its own variant. Anyway, she couldn’t have Inna passing out on her because she ordered a soup she couldn’t eat; Liora was not in the business of dragging bodies around. (Well, not technically.) Besides, the thought of abandoning Inna now seemed like an entirely alien concept—like a flip had finally switched on that told her to at least go through the motions of caring about the blonde. (If she were aware the switch had been flipped, she would have spent some time searching for it, but for now it went unnoticed.)

“At least Italian/Greek isn’t spicy,” she said with a grin (a marked improvement from her usual stank-face).

 

[Syntra]

....ooookay, so Inna had Questions. A lot of Very Big Questions, in fact, but since wasting her time formulating them didn't seem like the most strategic of decisions, most of them could be summarized thusly: What the fuck, man? Who was this woman and what had she done to the old Liora? You know, the Liora who would fucking chew her fingers off and feed them to stray dogs before risking being mistaken for a human being with human emotions? Was this-- was this some new way of fucking with her? It had to be, really. There was no other explanation. More than likely, the bunch of algorithms masquerading as her brain had calculated that this behavior would be the one to confuse her the most, and so the bitch had changed her tactics. Yup, sounded feasible. Good thing Inna had seen through her vile, vile tricks! She wouldn't fall for them, oh no. Instead, the blonde would hold onto her dignity, and--

"A promise, princess," Inna heard herself saying as she leaned closer and... and winked. Uh oh. That had to be the sleep deprivation, right? Right! "Or would you rather I promised something sweeter?" Definitely sleep deprivation, then, because this didn't make any fucking sense. Like, not even a lick of it! (...how fortunate that she had this excu-- oh, um, undeniable fact to explain the strangeness. That way, she didn't have to think about her actions, and that was the surefire way to success! Not that there was anything to succeed at here, of course, because she wasn't really trying to accomplish stuff with her words. No, this was just-- just verbal shitposting. Shitposting with her nemesis. Completely normal and not at all suspicious! And besides, Liora had started it, which meant Inna had the official permit to do whatever the fuck she wanted. It was, uh, one of the Rules.) "And Death was actually too salty about me looking more stylish than her. Said something about returning for me in my old age 'cause I wouldn't be able to compete with her as a granny. Dumbass, I'm telling you. As if wrinkles could possibly stop me." Because Inna wouldn't look decrepit or something, obviously-- she aged like fucking wine, and experience would therefore give her a more dignified appearance. Beauty standards could go to hell!)

"Oh?" Inna raised her eyebrow. "Well, you have to admit it was an easy enough mistake to make, Little Miss Know-It-All. Blame your own propaganda for being too effective." And, yeah, that was somewhat closer to their normal interactions-- except that it wasn't, mostly because Inna failed to glare her usual daggers. Instead, she seemed... mildly amused? Okay. (Look, not her fault. Again, there was that pesky sleep deprivation, and maybe she was also suffering from PTSD. Mental health wasn't to be underestimated! And, uh, if Liora had to be her sort-of-ally now, then it made sense for them to work on teambuilding for a bit. It was the only logical conclusion. Like, yeah, Inna still wanted to kill her, but she also wanted to kill many, many other people, who in turn wanted to murder her and Liora. And, as anyone who understood maths would tell you, being outnumbered was bad! A temporary alliance to get rid of those shmucks seemed like a solid conclusion-- they could go back to their regularly scheduled programme of trying to kill each when they didn't have to worry about being backstabbed by, uh, literally everyone else.)

So, the soup incident. By all accounts, Inna should have gotten mad and shot everyone at the restaurant to prevent the damage to her precious, precious reputation, but for some reason, she actually... smiled? Wow. Probably because of laughter being contagious or something. That was a documented scientific phenomenon, thank you very much! (Also, Liora's laughter was kind of pleasant-sounding, okay. It was also surprising, as Inna hadn't thought the other woman was even capable of a reaction this fucking human, and that shock likely triggered her own weird-ass response. Humans had evolved from primates, after all, and primates smiled in tense situations. It made perfect sense! ...if you ignored reality, which she was more than alright with. Who even needed such stupid things? Certainly not Inna, that was for sure.)

"You have fucking asbestos in your mouth or something?" she chuckled. "Because I refuse to believe it's not fireproof." When her dumplings arrived, Inna approached them with some degree of suspicion, but when she discovered that they, in fact, weren't fire personified? The blonde started devouring them with the passion of someone who hadn't eaten for weeks. (How come she hadn't noticed she was so hungry? Oh, right, sleep deprivation and PTSD. Her new answer for everything, it seemed!) "This, man, this is good. But anyway, don't you think that Italy and/or Greece are a bit, uh, broad categories? We should probably ask the goddamn book. I mean, it got us into this mess, so I say it is also responsible for guiding us now." ...huh. When had 'I' and 'me' changed into 'we' and 'us'? What a curious, curious transformation. Again, though, Inna wasn't a fucking philosopher, and so she refused to even start thinking about it. (Staying in one's lane was important, people. A vital skill, actually!)

And speaking of things that probably shouldn't be dissected... "I have to say," she smirked, "that I kinda appeciate the way you saved me from that demonic soup. And since I dislike being indebted to people, let me buy the booze." ...because there was going to be booze, right? Like, getting terribly, shamefully drunk was just about the only refuge they had in this stupid fucking situation. No matter what kind of clownery they would inevitably be dragged into, alcohol would always be there to wipe their memories! "Gotta seal the alliance, I say. I don't trust anyone who hasn't seen me puke." Not that Inna would ever trust Liora, of course-- she was, uh, just fooling around and saying cool stuff like the cool person she totally was.

While the waitress side-eyed her for ordering whiskey so early in the afternoon, she didn't say anything, and brought the bottle soon after. Which, good. Finally a person who knew her place! "Well? Will you give the toast, love?"

 

[starboob]

If one were to spend a day inside of Liora's head, it would probably come as no surprise to learn that it looked like records room of sorts. Each little nugget of information that she had collected over her more than two and half decades of life were orderly filed into their proper compartments. Something she was currently filing away, into the drawer marked 'for later,' was to figure out how to get Inna to stop calling her princess before both of them ended up more confused than they needed to be. (Was her face flushed or was the soup getting to her?) She was also debating storing the file into her ever growing 'ignore' cabinet.

"I'm all for reading, but that book seems to be one of the worst fucking interpretations of an oompa loompa imaginable." Her tone was full of exasperation and frustration and they had not even spent that much time with the book. It just filled her with dread to think about touching it at this point. At the same time, she wasn't sure there was actually another way to get around it, because Inna was right. What were they supposed to do? Hop a plane and scour two ancient countries and just hope for the best? Liora would have rather watched money burn than waste her time (circuitous logic if one ascribed to the belief that time was money––which Liora did). "But..." she trailed off and then decided against finishing the thought. Instead keeping it to herself because she was worried if she said something like 'but I am curious' that Inna would... well, she didn't know why she was holding back or why she cared about Inna's opinion so much, so she just buried the worries in mouthfuls of pho.

"Well, if I'm the one that's fire-proof..." She smirked, eyes flitting briefly and pointedly to Inna's bandaged hand. "Then maybe I should have been the one who gets to be flamethrower." That line would have been executed with a little more cool if she wasn't so clearly jealous about the other's new unlocked abilities. While she knew that she had also been experiencing her own bizarre transformation, she seemed slower on the development (like getting boobs after everyone else in middle school). She sighed and inhaled another mouthful of fire personified. As she slurped the noodles, she held a dangerous amount of eye contact with Inna––mainly because she was floored that she was smiling (it wasn't like she was showing off her puckered lips). Sure, she had seen Inna smile (like all the time––she always seemed to have some smug smirk on her stupid little face) but it was different when Liora knew she was the cause. 'That's... Hmm...' (And another one into the 'ignore' cabinet.)

At this point, she was not shocked that Inna had suggested they drink or that they should do so at such an early hour––but the last thing she wanted to do was to die during a shoot-out because she was completely plastered. And she was convinced that would happen––she easily slid down that slippery-slope. "That's probably one of the stupidest ideas you've had so far." Still, she figured one drink wouldn't hurt; besides she liked whiskey; and she had eaten plenty beforehand. So, after a moment of debate, she accepted the glass and tapped it against Inna's, "Fine... To not killing you." She said it like a promise more than a joke (and the irony of it all would reveal itself soon). The whiskey disappeared from her her glass in a single gulp; she only made a slight face about it though she tried to play it off like it was nothing.

That should have satisfied the blonde, right? She didn't actually expect for them to drink themselves to puking? That had to have been a joke, or at least Liora was hopeful it was; she kind of felt like this were a thinly veiled trap and she was essentially stepping into it on her own accord. "Happy?" She asked, setting the glass down on the table, next to the empty dishes. "So are we going to arm wrestle over who touches the book this time?" If she moved on to the next subject fast enough she was sure Inna would forget about senseless drinking. Plus, she would have rather focused on business so they could get to the next thing––Liora was tragically and woefully all business, no pleasure (Jack was such a dull boy). "You might as well just grab it since your hand doesn't exactly give you the advantage."

 

[Syntra]

...Liora actually went with her suggestion? Wow, okay. Inna had half-expected her to refuse and go fill out this year's tax return form or whatever the fuck she liked to do for fun instead, but here they were, drinking. Cool, cool. You know, maybe there was going to be an apocalypse after all-- because this sure as hell seemed like one of its signs. (Was Liora acting like a fellow human being one of the Plagues of Egypt? Probably not, Inna guessed, as she had most likely never even been to the country, but like, the vibes checked out. Plus, this was also much scarier than locusts. Those motherfuckers were tiny and you could demolish them with your boot, but would the same strategy work on Liora? Inna didn't really think so!)

Not that such thoughts were relevant at the moment, of course. They were, in fact, possibly the least relevant than they'd ever been before-- mostly because Inna didn't really feel like killing her colleague. Not now, at the very least. (See? Yet another fucking sign! What was next, rivers turning into blood? The one percenters donating all of their money to some sappy charity? Since that would actually be less strange than their, uh, interesting developments here. It's the alcohol, Inna decided. That alcohol made people behave in unusual ways was a fact that had been known to humanity for centuries, and so there was no reason to question that explanation. So what if the StrangenessTM had begun long before she had had a single drop of whiskey? Inna had been, uhhh, drunk from the very idea of drinking back then. Right! If placebo effect was a thing when it came to medication, then you could surely trick yourself into being drunk as well, she was certain. Ah, the human brain! It worked in mysterious, mysterious ways indeed.)

"I'll drink to that," Inna smirked before raising the glass to her lips. "Cheers!" And, you know what, this actually wasn't so bad. The whiskey was pretty fucking good, she didn't have to go to work tomorrow and fate had granted her a partner in crime! The dream configuration, at least if you overlooked the whole 'being on the run' aspect. (No worries, though, as Inna happened to be a fucking expert on that-- if some shadowy organization gave her a Nobel prize for her ignorance, she would ignore that as well. That was how good she was, dammit!)

Perhaps she had been too hasty with her judgment, however, as Liora wanted to return to business talk immediately. Oh, no, no, no. Not on her watch! "Do I look like I'm puking yet, love? 'Cause it doesn't seem that way to me. Or are you implying a single glass is enough to destroy you? Tsk, tsk. How sad!" As in, did Liora seriously think this would be the end of it? Ha! There were no brakes on this train, baby, and especially not after she had bought the whole bottle already. Like, her momma hadn't raised a fucking quitter. (Since she also hadn't raised an alcoholic, however, she couldn't drink it all on her own. No, there had to be some way to convince the other woman to continue!) ...naturally, the opening was provided by Liora herself when she suggested some good old arm wrestling.

"Doesn't sound fun, to be honest," she sighed dramatically, a mischievous spark lighting up her eyes. (Once again, Inna looked suspiciously close to... uh, having fun? Not many people would guess she actually hated her companion's guts, that was for sure. Some misguided souls would probably even say she sounded a little flirty, but that only meant her camouflage was fucking excellent! Hahaha. Haha. Ha.) "Instead of that, how about we have a drinking competition? If you're afraid, though, you don't have to," Inna added with a hint of false sweetness in her voice. "No, really, I get it. Having me as your opponent-- that must be a terrible fate, huh. Downright unfair. Okay, I suppose I can handicap myself to give you at least some chance of winning!"

 

[starboob]

Liora needed to learn that when Inna's eyes sparked, they were not sparkling or twinkling innocently––they were warning signals for future chaos and discord. However, since she had yet to learn all of the other's quirks, she would have to settle for learning the hard way and falling into her ill-placed traps.

"I––No!" she said, with a little too much volume that drew undue attention their way, so she repeated, quieter, "No—I'm not a lightweight!" (Blatant lie. Liora did not drink enough to have built up any meaningful tolerance to alcohol.) "I'd just like to get back to living a normal life where we don't cause a demonic fucking apocalypse and where we are not being hunted down by our former boss!" Though quieter, her tone was no less sharp. (Also interesting that she made NO mention of wanting their temporary alliance to end as that might have been an immediate first on the list only 24 hours ago.)

It soon, however, became clear that Inna was not going to let this go. (Why hadn’t Liora stopped her from buying the entire bottle? This was a little excessive for eating her soup for her.) “I don't know if it's a high compliment to yourself to say you could outdrink me. Why be proud of being an alcoholic?" Even as she was speaking (and making one of her signature presumptuous statements), she had already grabbed the bottle and one of the empty water glasses. If they were going to do this then Liora wanted to make sure she could actually outlast the blonde—even if she had made the earlier claim she was not a lightweight, she had an idea that regardless Inna had the higher tolerance. (Inna said to outdrink her, not outthink her!) She filled the glass just less than half and slid it over to the blonde, "Take your fucking handicap." She then poured herself another serving and only downed it once Inna had knocked back hers. (Which was honestly... impressive. ‘Damn.’)

At two shots, Liora felt relatively fine. Her chest was warm, like the alcohol was taking its sweet time on its way down to her stomach, but she felt like she still had her wits about her. The dark haired woman was aware of her limits and knew she would still be fine if she took another drink (somehow her glass had already been refilled and she suspected it would stay full––so she would need to keep an eye on that). "This is so irresponsible..." She grumbled, taking the third shot. (Though, to be honest, she would be liar if she said she weren't curious where this would lead––she had not let herself be this careless... in a while and somehow Inna was taking advantage of this hidden curiosity.) “Like Chett’s little creeps could just...” and she went on about some extreme worst case scenario that her mind had conjured and the more she exhausted herself thinking of it it became harder to track the number of shots she had taken (oops) as she got more caught up in monologuing and her glass just kept not emptying!

Now, somewhere between trying to steer the conversation back to their purpose and the sixth shot, Liora realized (1) her mistake and (2) that she was not a high functioning drunk and had forgotten about... well, she had forgotten about quite a few things. That would probably be why they were now at a bar with a pitcher of beer (each—Liora bought them, actually).

“They didn’t have beer cans for us to shotgun, but whatever. Who—ever finishes first gets to choose the next game.” Liora had already bully-flirted a couple of dudes out of their pool table and was working on racking the billiard balls. She was fairly certain she could beat Inna at this game as she had spent a decent amount of time in college playing. "Do you know how to play this one, or do I have to school you?" Her brow cocked upwards as she leaned against the cue stick, officially off-kilter from the alcohol. (She had not calculated how being drunk would factor into her ability to crush Inna at pool.)

 

[Syntra]

"Sounds like something a lightweight would say," Inna smirked. And, really, it only made sense-- considering that Liora's idea of fun seemed to be staring at blank walls and terrorizing others for daring to have an actual personality, Inna sincerely doubted that there would be many people foolish enough to drink with her in their free time. Nah, not likely. That would basically be classified as self-harm, and her colleagues generally enjoyed hurting others instead of, you know, themselves. (Self-care above all else and such. Just mafia things!) So, her social life must have been drier than the fucking Sahara desert-- and her throat as well. Bwhahaha! (Technically, of course, Liora could have gotten wasted every day on her own. There weren't any laws banning such behavior, so even her rules-worshipping ass should have had no reason to frown upon the concept. The issue with that, however? Liora herself. More than likely, it hadn't even occurred to her that she could, uhhh, not be a giant fucking bore 24/7. ...what a drag. Talk about being your own worst enemy!)

"And it's not being proud of alcoholism," the blonde rolled her eyes. "This is about resilience. About overcoming your limits, and the limits of the human body in general. Why do you think warriors of the old drank so much, huh? Because they weren't fucking pansies!" Admittedly, it also might have been because because there just hadn't been much else to do with no internet, but Inna decided to keep that to herself. No need to undermine her own narrative, after all! (...besides, people who cared about being factually correct were goddamn cowards. Cowards and fools. Like, were they not paying attention to what kind of politicians were being elected these days? Obviously, misinformation was where it was at! Get with the times, suckers.)

Speaking of 'cowards', though? Inna definitely wasn't one, so she accepted the glass and downed it in one gulp. "Behold my power, sunshine. Behold and tremble!" After that, things got pretty intense pretty fast. Inna drank and drank and drank, and dammit, was she having a good time. Again, she could probably thank the whiskey for that-- watching Liora struggle with it was a contributing factor, sure, but that didn't mean she was enjoying her company or anything similarly silly. Nah, son. This was, uh, the equivalent of burning ants with a magnifying glass. Pure malice, in other words, and that made everything just fine. Laughing at one's nemesis misfortune wasn't suspicious at all, was it? ...or it wouldn't have been, at least, had Inna's laughter not sounded downright friendly. Joyful, almost. Ringing of the bells instead of nails scraping against the blackboard, light and carefree. Oh well! At least there weren't any witnesses? (And, no-- all of the patrons didn't count, actually. Those were just NPCs and didn't really matter. Would you be ashamed of pissing your pants in front of a dog? No? Clearly, this was the same case!)

"Pfft! Of-- of course I know how to play pool," she waved her hand theatrically. "What kind of dumbass doesn't know these things?" Spoiler alert: Inna. Games hadn't been a part of her life until recently, mostly because she had been busy just trying to survive, and the catching up she had done revolved around videogames, not around whatever this bullshit was. (Like, sports were so stupid. They probably appealed to the part of the brain that still remembered flinging shit at one's enemies back when humans had been apes, which explained why men enjoyed them so much.) "Only some social reject, I'm sure. Which I'm not! 'Cause I'm smart and pretty." ...nooo, the alcohol was having absolutely no influence on Inna. None at all! She felt perfectly sober, thank you for your concern. Sober, and also capable of making alllll the important decisions. ...hehe.

So, yeah, there was no chance in hell Inna would actually admit to her ignorance. Winging it would probably be fine, wouldn't it? As in, getting some balls in some holes couldn't be that complicated. Idiots managed to do that all the fucking time, and naturally, she was better than idiots.

...or so Inna had thought. With her hands shaking and her eyes somewhat unable to focus, this was actually pretty hard, you see? So, uh, Inna missed. "Just warming up," she told Liora. Amazingly, the blonde seemed to be... blushing? Wow, okay. "Stretching is important. Wouldn't want to pull my fucking muscle!" Okay, this is it. My chance to redeem myself. Go, go, go, Inna! She aimed carefully, her concentration razor sharp, aaaaand-- another miss. "Oh, for fuck's sake. I-- I mean, I wanted to say that this was exactly my plan! You wouldn't get it, though. Too devious." Oof, that was close. Good thing she was so fucking resourceful when it came to excuses! ...that still didn't solve her problem here, though. Hmmm. Perhaps thinking outside the box could help? No such thing as a shameful path towards the victory, after all! "Look, princess. There's, uh, a giant-ass spider on the ceiling. Also, what the fuck, it has a knife!" Well, that should be a fine enough distraction. An exquisite one, in fact! Which was why Inna grabbed as many balls as she could and started shoving them into the holes. ...what? The strategy was perfectly legitimate-- in her head, at least.

 

[starboob]

"Well, I'd say at least half that statement is true," she said, not at all hiding the once over or how she let her eyes linger over Inna's figure to let her know just which half she thought was true. Though, in earnest, her attraction to the blonde was never something she had spent much time on. She had eyes and could acknowledge certain undeniable truths; beyond that there was nothing else hiding. If she spent more time on this, she may have been able to recall briefly thinking Inna was categorically hot when they had first been introduced––though the thought never developed further because as soon as the other opened her mouth Liora made an immediate decision to never interact with her. (Clearly, that had not worked out as their history of banter and bitching went far beyond the past few days.) After that, there was no reason to spend time ogling her colleague––except for now, when she was drunk, more playful, and her flirtations were transparent as a result.

It didn't occur to her to assume that Inna had been lying when she said she knew how to play pool––though it did strike the woman as odd since it seemed up her alley. Liora had this fabricated vision of Inna being much cooler than she actually (probably) was, or at least had embellished her talents in certain areas and deflated the ones that seemed inconceivable. So when she watched the other disastrously try to shatter the rack, the laugh that tumbled off her lips was as genuine as the one heard earlier in the restaurant––again, laughing at her and not with her (that would have been far more intimate than Liora would ever want to get). "I thought the legendary and badass Inna Orlovskaya would have been a bit more impressive," her tone was not as biting and harsh as it would have been sans whiskey and beer; it came off more teasing, casual, and friendly. Like she wasn't actually trying to offend Inna for once.

She leaned over the table, sloppily as she was using it for balance––more so weak thinking about being called princess than being drunk (though she certainly was not knee-buckled thinking about Inna specifically calling her princess––she refused to believe that alcohol could be that powerful). "But regardless of whatever strategy that was––spiders can't hold guns, by the way––you sunk the fucking eight ball." She didn't explain any further, playing into the fact that Inna had lied about her billiards knowledge and only letting the implications connect the dots. Circling the table, she began to set up another game––though she was not sure they'd end up actually playing anything. She mostly wanted to show off. Once it was set, she took her cue stick and aimed at the plain white ball, giving it a decisive strike once she had gathered enough focus (she was thankful she hadn't missed––it had been a while since she had been to a pub). The rack scattered and a couple of the balls sunk. She decided to take out the striped ones and missed after an additional two were pocketed. When she had finished her turn, she looked over at Inna, "Even a blonde like yourself could figure this out." (Still mostly joking––albeit, now going for some cheap shots.)

Then, without much thought or consideration, she looped her fingers around Inna's wrist and pulled her over to where the cue ball currently was; there was a pretty easy shot to make. "Most people fuck up by not knowing their angles or how much force is necessary," she continued, getting behind Inna, pressing herself flush against her back and placing her in a starting position. Her hand smoothed over the other's arm, reaching backwards for her elbow to put it into position at the right angle. "Once you know that, the rest is practice," she said the words a bit lazily as her tongue was too loose to actually hold onto the syllables she was trying to make. That fact did not stop her from taking another sip from her pitcher once she had stepped away from the blonde to let her make the move, not even bothering with a glass.

As she stared at the table, gaze turning somewhat blurry as she played with focusing/unfocusing her vision, she chewed on her bottom lip before musing out loud, "What's something we're both good at?" Like other than stealing and killing. Liora still wanted to know who, out of the two of them, was better. She was still bitter about their fight last night though she would not outright address that (she would have been interested in a rematch if Inna was not still nursing her own dumbass mistake of an injury).

 

[Syntra]

...h-half? Which half, though? Because, uh, that seemed kinda important to Inna at the moment. Not that she valued the opinions of someone like Liora, of course-- hell would freeze over before she admitted there was some merit to literally anything the other woman said. Her mouth was full of vile poison, so you'd probably have a more meaningful conversation with the fucking Cleverbot. Like, you couldn't expect actual contributions to... well, pretty much anything from someone who had constructed her entire personality around the idea of being as insufferable as humanly possible. The intent to annoy was always at the forefront-- so, logically, none of her dumbass statements could be taken at a face value. Especially not this! Inna knew that, of course, and only cared for, uhhh, research purposes. Right, that was it. Deciphering what she meant would give Inna further insight into Liora's twisted, twisted psyche, and that would allow her to deal with her more effectively. Getting to know your enemies and shit!

...so, could she possibly consider her to be pretty? Inna didn't doubt that fact, but damn. To think Liora had such good taste! Maybe she wasn't that bad. (That wasn't too much of a compliment, though-- in her case, not being 'that bad' meant that talking to her was about as pleasant as cutting your finger off as opposed to, you know, jumping into a pool full of acid. Just slightly more tolerable, in other words. And besides, Inna didn't at all get flustered by someone paying her a fucking compliment! Why would she? She had to chase away potential partners every day in the same way celebs had to chase away paparazzi, dammit. This meant nothing to her, alright? Nothing! ...and as for the blush, that was pure coincidence. Pure coincidence and alcohol, most likely.)

"Well," Inna shrugged, "what can I say? Just trying to give other people their chance to shine. If I stole the spotlight constantly, everyone would hate me. Which, I imagine, is something you're intimately familiar with!" Her usual jab, one would say, but again, it didn't sound like that-- her tone was light and airy, her smile easy and relaxed. The body language of someone who was just teasing a friend, really.

When Liora started showing off, though? Yeah, that was when Inna returned to eye-rolling. Just, geez. In which dimension was being able to hit some ball impressive? Technically, it was something she hadn't managed to do, but like, she also hadn't managed to shoot herself in the head. Did it mean that those who had were suddenly cooler than her, huh? Nah, mate, that wasn't how the coolness factor was measured. Coolness was measured by how similar someone was to Inna, obviously, and Inna herself was 100% Inna. Try beating that!

What happened next, though, kinda undermined her narrative-- or rather, most of her narratives. You know, the one about coolness = Inna, for example? That one got sunk pretty hard, mostly because when Liora touched her hand, she made a small, undignified sound. (A cute sound, one would be tempted to say, if she wasn't a badass mafia bitch. Or a badass ex-mafia bitch, to be more precise, which only made her that much more hardcore. You know how many people got to survive and put that title on their business card? Not many, that was for sure. So, naturally, Inna couldn't be cute. Puppies and kittens were cute, dammit, and the last time she had checked, she wasn't a fucking kitten! No, she was merely caught off-guard.)

"Seems simple enough," Inna said, trying to save the scraps of her dignity. To her credit, it mostly worked-- her old nonchalance was back now, and one could easily chalk that outburst to surprise. Happened to everyone from time to time, right? Except that then Liora fucking pressed herself against her back, and Inna melted. (A planned sabotage, that was what this was!! As in, Liora had to know she had a nice body, right? And obviously, pressing such a nice body against someone would to lead to ConsequencesTM. Strong-willed as she was, Inna was only human, and like, girls were pretty. How was one supposed to ignore that? No, really, trying to destroy her ability to focus like this was a whole new low! ...that was what Inna thought, or rather, would have thought, had her thought processes not been reduced to 'wow, nice'.) "Ah. Um. Sure, makes sense. I guess," she muttered, trying her hardest to pretend she was actually listening instead of... uh, fantasizing about more interesting things.

When Liora moved away, though, her mind cleared somewhat, and-- damn. This easily, she had established her dominance! What a sly, sly move. ...ooookay, so now Inna basically had to prove just how cool and unbothered by all of this she was. Fine, no problem. How to trump Liora, though? "I dunno," Inna shrugged. "I mean, I've never really played most of those games. Too small-minded," she said before emptying another glass. Ahh, the whiskey really packed a punch! (...good, though. A punch or two would come in handy-- you know, considering her plans and everything.) "I guess we could rob someone... or kiss," she suggested in a tone usually reserved for, say, discussing weather. There, that should do it! Some flimsy touching couldn't possibly be ~cooler~ than this, Inna was certain. The fucking embodiment of not caring, truly. (And if Liora actually accepted? Well. That would be a problem of her future self, the blonde supposed. Haha, sucked to be her!) "Though I'm pretty sure I'm a better kisser than you, actually, so I don't know whether that would be fair."

 

[starboob]

​

She has to admit, seeing Inna flustered is amusing. The blushing and the small noises don't go unnoticed and while Liora cannot place that she, specifically, is the cause of it all she finds it endearing. (Liora assumes the alcohol makes Inna blush and giggle and squeak surprised noises.) It somewhat shifts the narrative she has of the other, but she also reminds herself that they're both drunk and so most of tonight doesn't count as part of her was certain that by tomorrow this will all go away. (And she doesn't want to think about that, because, right now, she is actually having fun––something she had thought was reserved for children and not workaholic responsible adults like herself.)

The mood shifts entirely when Inna suggests that they rob people. Of course Liora was good at that and had no qualms causing others personal suffering or harm but why would she have a reason to do that now? Being fired from the mafia, she more or less didn't see the need to play that––wait a minute... Her brain catches up with the second half, the more interesting part of what Inna had suggested and she feels... Ill like something is attacking her chest from the inside and pressing against her sternum with such force she swears it will crack open and let whatever vile beast that is responsible for this to escape. She doesn't notice how the lights seemed brighter when her chest swells; she also doesn't notice that her face colors; or that a few tables over all the glasses knock over to the floor soaking a group in their expensive drinks.

Though, once she is able to gather herself and shake off whatever temporary illness had taken over her body, she offers a smile before chuckling at the suggestion and the antagonistic statement made after. "Now that is hilarious," she says, taking another sip of the beer though she doesn't look directly at Inna. "Could you even imagine that?" The beer disappears from the pitcher soon––though she hadn't meant to finish it, she mostly got distracted by the thought of them being intimate like that (she couldn't even say it to herself); except she is not really thinking about them specifically––just those familiar friends she (and Inna) had discovered the previous night. (It was easier to picture them than her and Inna. They already seemed sweet. She wonders if a tenderness like that will ever enter her life, but shoos the thought away just as quickly. It makes her angry which is to say under that there is sadness.)

Try as she does to come up with something to say, to retort back and restore balance to this crumbling world, the best she comes up with is, "I––I think I'm done with this place." While spoken out loud, it is not necessarily directed at the blonde. "I need to, uh..." She loses her words for a minute as she starts to walk off, apparently not as capable of walking and talking and being drunk as she thought she might be so she stops to complete the thought, "I need some air..." Her sentence trails off as soon as she does and she doesn't ask Inna to follow her; she also doesn't assume the other would follow her.

As she walks past other patrons, her fingers slip into some pockets and when she is outside, braced against the fleeting warmth as the sun began to retreat, she looks at what she had found. (Inna had suggested they rob people, so why not go along with that idea instead of that silly one she had––obviously Inna had just been joking around as she couldn't fathom the blonde being serious.) But she doesn't really register the item (a wallet) in her hand or the bills that she pulls from the centerfold. She goes through all of these motions and only seems to be frustrated that her train of thought keeps going in directions she is actively avoiding. As her frustration grows the streetlights around her seem irritated too what with all their dimming and brightening to match her quickened pulse. 'That's just... so ridiculous. I mean she doesn't really... She didn't really... That was a joke, right? That had to be––' And so her thoughts spiral the more she thinks about the suggestion instead of brushing it off as a joke as she had done earlier. "There's no way she's a better kisser..." she mumbles as she shoves the money into her pockets and leans back against the wall, confused why she is even spending time on this.

 

[Syntra]

In that moment, Inna's thoughts could be summarized as: '???' Admittedly, that had been true for quite some time now, but this was a new flavor of confusion. Less of a 'what kind of apocalyptic bullshit is that' and more of a 'what the fuck is her problem?', really, which felt refreshing in the grand scheme of things. Refreshing and also weirdly infuriating. Just, dude. How unbelievably rude! Was that the kind of reaction you were supposed to have when a pretty girl offered to kiss you?! A pretty girl who wasn't fucking leprous? One would be forgiven for coming to that conclusion based on Liora's attitude, but no, actually! As far as Inna knew, she wasn't a carrier of some deadly disease. So, again, why the hell was she like this? (Now, obviously, Inna didn't care. She didn't care so much, in fact, that the nonchalance could be extracted from her, put into bottles and sold as a fucking perfume. Eau de Inna, or some shit. Having established that, though, it was still freaking suspicious, you see? Someone rejecting free ice-cream level of suspicious, and that needed to be investigated because... uh, reasons. Some very good reasons, probably. Maybe-- maybe the key to destroying Liora for good could be obtained via deciphering her weird-ass behavior. Kinda like discovering a lich's phylactery!)

Motivated by that idea only, Inna stepped outside as well. The air was fresh and pleasant, especially when compared to of the bar, but somehow, she couldn't savor it. Not truly. And the victory she had won for herself? That, too, tasted just a little bit bitter. (It's 'cause I'm ambitious, Inna decided. Right, ambitious and thus never really satisfied with anything. There was always another goal to reach, another mountain to climb, and this desire for more, more and more made far greater sense than her getting upset over Liora's... what, rejection? Could it be classified as that, even? It had been a bet. A bet she was too fucking cowardly to accept, by the way, which only emphasized Inna's own superiority. Ah, how difficult it must have been for other people to exist in her presence! It had to feel like trying to outshine the goddamn sun, really.)

Anyway, Liora looked straight up pitiful. Had alcohol demolished her this much? Laaaame! Inna, on the other hand, was perfectly sober-- her step may have been slightly unstable, yeah, but like, that meant nothing. And the perpetual blush on her cheeks? Oh, fuck off, Sherlock Holmes. Nobody had asked for your corny input!! "You okay in there?" she inquired, something suspiciously close to concern coloring her voice. "I swear, if you're planning to drown in your own vomit, I'm gonna kill you myself." Because that would mean abandoning her, and naturally, Liora couldn't do that. It was, uhh, illegal! The bond between partners in crime was sacred, man. Besides, their bond ran much deeper than that, even, and-- wait, what? Where had that even come from?

Thnakfully, Inna didn't really get a lot of space to think about the implications of that particular idea. And as for why? Because what Liora said hit her like a fucking sledgehammer. It was just... umm... kinda interesting, you know? The way she apparently kept thinking about that kiss despite it not being a thing. Fascinating, indeed. Fascinating enough for her to get these tingly feelings in her stomach, which proved just how dedicated to her research she truly was. Yay for scientific passion! (...this couldn't possibly be anything else, now could it? Like!!!) "Well," Inna smirked, her mouth working independently of her brain at that point, "why don't you show me, then?" And since Liora was leaning against the wall oh so conveniently-- well, she may have used her hands to trap her there. Gently, she put a stray strand of her partner's hair behind her ear and moved closer, her lips almost touching hers. (Almost, but not quite. A good kiss required some build-up, you see? Only boors went in for the kill immediately, and while Inna may not have known the difference between the salad fork and the dessert fork, she at least fucking knew this.) "Rock my world, then. If you can!" ...and the wild thud, thud, thud in her chest that suggested Liora, in fact, could do exactly that? Oh, merely a side-effect of the adrenaline, Inna was sure. Attempted murder could easily be the other woman's response to this stunt of hers, so this was a very normal way to feel! Right, she was just-- just flirting with danger. Business as usual, then.

 

[starboob]

Liora doesn't realize that Inna had joined her or that she had heard her comment (which she also doesn't realize she had said out loud). When she finds herself between the wall and the blonde she doesn't find it as irritating as she had last night. Though she does find it suffocating and uncomfortable; mainly because there is this lurch in her stomach that she has never felt before and she is pretty sure that it is the alcohol trying to make a second appearance. "Wha––?" (Sometimes, Liora forgets how much she loves to use her precious brain to figure out and solve the situations that she gets herself in––but, maybe, in this instance it isn't so much forgetting how to use her brain so much as it is that this proximity to Inna has her brain completely shut off.)

If it weren't for her being petrified as her slow processor works on putting together all of these pieces, she may have leaned into the other's hand when she moves her hair out of her face. (The action is so delicate Liora feels herself craving more of that affection.) Inna is so close to her and she has never seen her eyes this clearly before or noticed how pink her lips are and how soft they look. It's hard to even notice that Inna's heart is thundering, because her own is somewhere lodged in her throat and she isn't sure what to do. Though a soft echo in her mind helps her decide as it whispers, 'Kiss her. You've waited to for a thousand years.' And this strange thought seems to melt whatever had frozen her and she relaxes some, looking at Inna now through a half-lidded gaze. She reaches up to grab the nape of the blonde's neck, pulling her forward and closing the last inch of distance that separates them. Her other hand makes a tight fist around Inna's shirt and she tugs on it so that it's not just their lips crashing together.

For the most part, Liora tries to focus on the anatomical nature of the kiss. That they are two bodies coming together and nothing more than that. She ignores, or tries to ignore, that this kiss is so different from all the others that she's had in her life in that it feels alive. She didn't know that kissing someone could feel this way––that it could make someone feel anything at all. She didn't know that when people talk about sparks that it isn't just metaphor because she does feel something bloom in her chest.

Yet, of course, these feelings are muffled as she attempts to redirect her focus onto what she's willing to do to prove she's a better kisser (because that is easier than trying to decipher all of these new-old, old-new obviously-alcohol-induced feelings––it seems like the perfect excuse to cover for the fact that she wants more). Her lips part and she swipes her tongue across Inna's lower lip, before it darts into her mouth and she brings them closer together. This action, however, instead of quieting everything that is bubbling inside of her, completely backfires and only seems to bring about more fervid intensity. She more or less forgets about where they are or even who they are and she has a fleeting desire to live in this moment forever.

 

[Syntra]

It meant nothing. And, really, why should it be otherwise? Unlike someone, Inna wasn't a fucking nun. Plenty of people had kissed her, and it had never meant anything beyond some variation of 'you're hot, wanna go home with me?' So, you know, none of that fairytale nonsense. The time itself hadn't stopped just to emphasize the importance of the moment, or whatever the fuck the latest stupid romance novel cliche was. The ground had never shaken beneath her feet, either-- mostly because the fucking earth didn't really care about her romantic escapades. (It had its own shit to do, you see? With-- with all the rotations, and not trying to explode, and things like that. ...look, Inna wasn't a geologist, but she was pretty sure it must have done something.) The point was, there was no reason it would be different with Liora, right? Well, okay, maybe aside from her throwing up in her mouth a little bit because it was fucking Liora, though that didn't count. Such a reaction would be justifiable and acceptable, and actually pretty fucking funny. (Not even Inna could frame that as a victory, granted, but so what? You won some, you lost some. Besides, to earn the right to tell a really good anecdote, you often had to suffer. One of the universe's laws, really. What was one lost bet against a lifetime of laughter, anyway? One big, fat nothing!)

So, it was fair to say that nothing about this could shock Inna. She had envisioned every possible outcome beforehand, considered its implications carefully and now awaited her fate with the calmness of a fucking Zen Buddhist. This wouldn't shake her. Things scarier than a little make-out session had failed to do so, and getting soft now certainly wasn't a part of her agenda. Just, nah, mate. Not until hell froze over!

Except that when their lips finally met, Inna found herself moaning into the kiss. Without thinking about it, she pulled Liora closer and... uh, this was kinda embarrassing, but then she melted in her arms. (It just felt good, okay?! Like a gulp of water after wandering the desert for centuries, and Inna was fucking going to savor it. For a while, anyway. A few more seconds, and then she'd show the bitch who the true boss was. Right! Such a victory would be way more satisfying-- letting her pathetic ass believe she had won at first, and then pulling the rug out from under her at the last second. How devious. A plan worthy of her magnificence, truly. Haha, Liora would have no idea what hit her! Just... let her have this for a few more heartbeats? Solely to maximize the psychological damage dealt to her later, of course.)

Anyway, the plan was good-- or would have been, really, had Inna not grown more and more pliant in her arms instead of, uhh, implementing it? God fucking dammit. Had someone roofied her drink or something? Because enjoying the kiss would have been one thing, but clinging to her like this and practically begging for more-- yeah, that was exactly the kind of shit that forced people to change their names and wear paper bags over their heads for the rest of their lives. Just, geez. If Inna knew what was good for her, she would get a hold of herself! C'mon, do it. Do it now. Show her there's some brain left in your skull, dammit. "Took you long enough," Inna said instead when their lips parted, a stupid smile all over her face. Well. Well, that was... quite a statement. You know what else was a statement, though? A tiny fire shower that exploded above their heads-- some of the sparks landed in Liora's dark hair and shone there, harmlessly, like stars in the night sky. Wow. Like a goddess, some traitorous voice whispered in Inna's ear. (...of stupidity, she added to save her face, but it lacked the usual punch-- mostly because she was still fucking staring at her as if she had just descended from heavens. Yeah, that kinda undermined it.)

"Um. That was... not bad, I guess?" Inna scratched her head. Out of habit, she did it with her injured hand, too, and instead of the expected wave of pain, there was nothing. How come, though? Not that she wanted to complain, but still! Incredulously, the blonde inspected her hand and... it seemed to be alright. Alright, as in unhurt. "Wait a fucking second," she said, her brow furrowed. "Did you just heal me with that kiss?" Because Inna wasn't nearly drunk enough yet for that sort of bullshit. No, seriously. Healing... healing goddamn kisses. Alright, why not! It wasn't like she needed the world to make sense or anything, anyway.

 

[starboob]

​

When its over, it takes everything left in the woman to gain some sense of composure. In fact, now she feels suddenly and disgustingly sober. Or at least more sober than she’d like to be—especially given the circumstances which are head-spinning in all confusion. The snake-like muscle she calls a heart even seems roped into knots; it’s wholly uncomfortable and despite it, there is an addicting quality to this feeling. The danger of that alone easily has her walls returning to their prior fortitude—no need to come undone over a kiss that had been part of a petty bet between work-place rivals enemies.

"Yeah, yeah... Sorry," she finally says—though she isn't sure what she is sorry about; the apology came out before she could even think of why it had materialized in the first place. Yet, it is brushed away easily enough as she becomes distracted by the sparks glittering down over them. At this point, she doesn't find the firework show above their heads to be anything out of the ordinary and, anyway, she likes the ambiance it provides. It helps her separate the two distinct realities she seems to be grappling with––the one were Inna is a really good kisser and the other where she would rather contract rabies and lose her mind than be this close.

The way Inna smiles at her has her feeling self-conscious because she has never seen that level of dopiness and assumes that there had been something funny about the kiss; her review of it leaves something to be desired as well—the moan and fireworks overhead aren’t something Liora folds into the ‘Not bad’ remark; she sees it as separate and unrelated somehow. (Okay, so did she win? Did they need to do a best two out of three? Because Liora wouldn't mi––'Knock it off!')

"Not––not bad..." she repeats in agreement, not going to say anything more if Inna wasn't. The comment is punctuated by patting Inna's shoulders, awkwardly, like some coach after giving his struggling star player a pep talk; she pushes her away after, though, finding it difficult to breathe properly with her so close and in her personal space. Already she is completing the last of the mental gymnastics needed to justify everything that has just happened––which she realizes, technically, she had been just as enthusiastic about; even if Inna had made the suggestion and first move, Liora had closed the gap. She doesn't regret it, she decides, but it is something that makes her suspicious since it had been so unexpectedly... Nice.

As the brain fog continues to lift, she combs the remaining and fading sparks out of her dark hair and only offers Inna a confused look in response to her accusation; she doesn’t remember healing the blonde. However, instead of saying anything biting in return she takes the blonde's hand and inspects it for herself, as if the blonde had anything to gain by lying. "Well, if I can heal you with a kiss I wonder what else I can do..." She muses, not really thinking about how her words could be misconstrued as sexual because her focus truly is on her abilities and figuring them out. In fact, with this perfect distraction Liora had moved from thinking about that life changing kiss and to wanting to experiment.

So she grabs Inna around her bicep (she would have gone for her hand and maybe part of her wants to, but she thinks that is a strange desire to have and ignores it) and starts dragging her towards the nearest corner market. She decides that first on their new agenda is returning their blood alcohol levels to something that could actually justify any more strange nonsense. Whatever had happened during the kiss, whether it was the exertion of magic or the excitement of it all, Liora feels much too present in her body/mind and a new bottle of whiskey should cure her of that ailment soon enough.

Now settled on a park bench, she hands the bottle to Inna to open. "You're going to show me how you... How you do all that shit with the fire," She says, not really bothering to ask since she was not looking to invite the other to reject her request. It should have been enough that she is even considering Inna's expertise in the area as, under any normal circumstance, Liora would have just as easily ignored the other and tried to figure this all out on her own. Yet since Inna seems to be able to use her powers, or is at least willing to recklessly experiment, she must know something. It could not have all been dumb-luck, right? "I'm tired of being fucking useless." Most of her life has been spent that way, or at least spent overwhelmed by feelings of not being enough, and quite honestly, she is over it. (She also manages to miss all the ways she had been helpful—if only because it hadn’t been near as flashy as the blonde.) “So... how does it work?”

 

[Syntra]

Whereas Liora sobered somewhat, Inna only felt more drunk-- more confused, more disoriented, more... everything, really. Probably because Liora had drunk that whiskey as well? Logically, kissing her afterwards would only deepen her own inebriation. Kind of like second hand smoke, except that with booze! And it miraculously being stronger than Inna's own attempts at getting wasted? Ummm. Some-- some bullshit enzyme strengthening the effects, most likely. Oh, how mysterious the human body was! A veritable Pandora's box of mindfuckery. You never knew what you'd get, really-- would it be a stroke this time, or an inexplicable burst of inhuman strength? Your guess was as good as hers! So, in other words, there was no point in trying to interpret the weird reactions she was having, anyway. The crimson in her cheeks? The way her heart was racing, as if she had just won a fucking marathon? The smile so blissful it seemed she must have gotten a lobotomy? All complete coincidences, Inna was sure. A roll of the dice. Only a fucking charlatan would try to extract some sort of meaning from it-- like, haha, her possibly liking Liora. Could you even imagine? Nah, son. About as likely as, uhhh, her suddenly getting superpowers. ...now, wait a moment. That had fucking happened!

"Agreed. Not bad. It was a... result of some pretty good team work. Yay for us," Inna nodded, the cogwheels in her brain still turning at full speed. Just, ugh. Why the hell was she suddenly incapable of coming up with a suitable metaphor? Metaphors were totally her jam, man! Like, not that she knew the first thing about literature or anything, but comparing stuff to some other stuff wasn't hard. In fact, it was the easiest thing in the world! Take this random object, that random object and boom, instant fucking statement. And if you didn't see its Deep and MeaningfulTM nature? Well, congratz, you were the idiot here! A wonderful strategy, really, and unlike English majors, Inna wasn't even stupid enough to sell herself into debt slavery for the rest of her life to learn it. She had come up with it all on her own, thank you very much! ...except that something in her brain had broken, apparently, and now Inna was the simpering idiot. Marvelous, truly. What would come next, her surrendering to the fucking police in order to atone for her crimes? Because that seemed to be her trajectory now!

Liora wasn't helping, either-- especially not when she started wondering about other uses of her kisses. ...or maybe even things, uh, slightly more interesting than just kisses? Ooookay, if there had been any rational thought in Inna's head left before, it sure as fuck dissolved with that. "Well, I dunno, princess," she smiled, dazed. "I mean, every theory needs to be tested out, doesn't it? And my head kinda hurts, so if you need a volunteer..." Oh, Jesus Christ. Her mouth was just doing whatever the fuck it wanted at this point, wasn't it? Running, running and running, leaving Inna in the dust. (If this continued, she would wake up one day and discover it had emigrated to the States, dammit. And you know what? The day this inevitably happened would be a blessed one, because at least she would lose her means of spewing this kind of nonsense! 'If you need a volunteer,' pffft. A pick up line from hell, alright. ...wait, n-no, it wasn't a pick up line! Just, uh, a weirdly worded offer of help, since they were allies now and everything. Haha. Ha.)

Liora appeared to be far too fascinated by her own abilities to rip her into shreds, though, and Inna muttered a quiet 'thanks, bro' to whatever god that was having her back. "Hmm. I suppose I could, if you give me a good enough incentive," the blonde chuckled. "Taking a padawan under my wing is a big fucking responsibility, you see? So it better be nice." 'Like that kiss,' she wanted to add, 'but I'd accept a back massage as well,' though some pitiful remnants of her self-control shut that shit down. No, the ~implication~ had to suffice. And as for the other problem? Specifically, the problem of Inna having no fucking idea what she was doing re: her magic, or most things in life? Eh, that would work out somehow. Nothing a big smile and a dose of unearned confidence wouldn't solve! It had landed her her entire goddamn career, so Inna saw no reason why it couldn't work for ancient magical energies, too. Both were part of the same universe, so surely the same rules applied here...? It made sense, really, as long as you didn't think about it! (Besides, the way Liora looked at her? With something that was closer to admiration than her usual disgust shining in her dark eyes? That made her heart sing, okay, and she wouldn't let something as petty as truth come between her and that feeling. No, not her style. For this night only, she would be Hermione fucking Granger. ...and if whatever bullshit advice she invented didn't work, Inna could always blame it on Liora's incompetence. Yup, a sound narrative. What could possibly go wrong here?)

"Hmm..." Inna opened the bottle and drank from it, hobo-style, before handing it to Liora. "I'd say that feelings are the key, my young apprentice. Feelings and, uh, your inner harmony, of some shit." That was New Agey enough to feel authentic, right? All the ladies with crystal balls and, like, tarot cards spouted this nonsense, as if they had read the same handbook. They couldn't have pulled it out of their asses! Plus, maybe they actually weren't wrong. "Whenever I was... casting a spell, I guess... I was having an emotional reaction to something. I don't recommend anger, though-- that's how I cooked my hand. So, open your fucking heart and turn into the Disney Princess you were always meant to be!"