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

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

The thing about the gold stars... The thing that Declan failed to mention about them, conveniently, because somehow even an All Seeing Owl forgets, is that the gold stars really do appear on her forehead. And are supposed to last a few hours. Oh, Liora is NOT pleased and she is about to get up and quit before she can be humiliated any further except that Declan then informs her that if she quits then the gold star will stay. Apparently, they'll only fade once she has all three.

So, begrudgingly, she subjugates herself to short-term humiliation. For who's benefit? She's not sure, because this seems like it has no purpose and is just a prank––and, Christ, if Declan wants to play pranks she is advised against it; Liora doesn't do pranks. She does entire sting operations that may or may not result in total social annihilation (okay, one time and it was pretty much deserved). However, Declan clarifies shortly after those thoughts stampede through the brain scape, "I cannot be defeathered and roasted, Liora. I am not actually an owl––this form is just all you can handle to see; my true form would probably give you nightmares. Anyway, you care too much about what other people think and that is impacting your ability to fail––a necessary part of creativity. I know, I know a very backwards concept to your perfectionism affliction––but don't worry, Liora. I fully believe in your ability to fail. "

The words are not encouraging. Success cannot mean failure even with Declan's explanation the anal woman cannot wrap her mind around the concept (not yet). "Yeah, right, whatever." She looks over the clouds, resting her hands behind her head as they skate across the sky. "There's a sunflower and a lizard. The lizard is admiring the sunflower. The sunflower keeps the coldblooded lizard warm, somehow, because it's fiction and fiction doesn't ever make any fucking sense," she pauses, her gaze narrowing as the sunflower starts to whisk away. "The lizard misses the sunflower. She's upset that it's gone, because the sunflower had been her only source of warmth and now it's gone." Her brows knit together. "Or maybe... It's the lizard that left the sunflower... I don't know."

"Why did you change the story, Liora?"

She shrugs as the lizard disappears from the clouds too. "It's just a story." There is no need to read into it like an overzealous literature major (what a waste of a major, too––why get a degree in reading? You can read in a lot of other majors too––majors that are actually worthwhile like political science). Though if one were going to overanalyze it like a literature student, they might find guilt between the subtle admittance. "Is it worth a star or not?" Back to business.

"Yes, yes, here's your second star––this doesn't have to be a race––I'd like to think we're bonding too." (Liora rolls her eyes at this suggestion and another star appears on her forehead.) "If I like this next story enough, maybe those stars will disappear sooner than later."

Even with that motivation, Liora isn't sure she can deliver the epic or whatever it is that her instructor is searching for––it almost feels impossible. It almost feels as if the goal is unclear and undefined and that she isn't supposed to know it, she is just suppose to achieve it and then some. How can she do this right if no one tells her what right is? And even if Declan says there is no right or wrong, there does seem to be a standard since she has rejected some of her trite stories. Of course, what remains out of Liora's field of view is that Declan only rejects the stories where she is not trying––had she put in some effort, Declan may have at least offered her something more constructive for her to chew on. But the owl doesn't believe she really needs those nudges––she needs a shove in the creative vortex.

"Once a upon a fucking time," she starts, finding a cluster that resemble something of chrysalis. "There was worthless little worm who thought he could become a butterfly. If he tried hard enough, he could grow wings and become something more than the Earth's composter. In fact, a butterfly even fed him the stupid idea that he could become whatever he wanted if just tried," she sucks in a breath and holds it. (Then another and another, until she's holding composure like a life line.) "And of course, the worm, seeing how magnificent the butterfly was wanted to be a butterfly herself too. But whenever the worm tried to make a chrysalis, the butterfly just laughed, because she knew the worm was trying and she knew the worm couldn't become a butterfly. But she kept telling the worm that if she just wasn't trying hard enough and if she tried harder and harder and harder then eventually she could have her pretty wings."

(It doesn't mean anything. Projecting is for therapists.)

"What happens next? Does the worm get a happy ending?" Declan asks.

"An owl eats the worm. The end," she mutters turning her head and looking over at Inna. (Who isn't on fire anymore and that relieves her, because good. Inna learned her balance.)

"Oh, come on––you need to be more veiled than that, Liora. Give your audience something to root for!"

"Well the worm didn't become a butterfly, because that's not how biology works," she closes her eyes. "The worm didn't become anything. Just kept trying to make a chrysalis while the butterfly laughed and continued with her cruel criticism! Eventually the worm couldn't take it anymore and just. Left. Joined a worm gang." Her arms cross over her chest and she sits up, looking expectantly at the owl. She doesn't want to be in this classroom anymore. She doesn't want to be in Italy. She doesn't want to be part of this prophecy––because maybe her whole life she had spent wanting to find her story in this bigger picture, but maybe she wished for that too often because saving the world seems like a Sisyphean task. (It would be just like her to take on something as grand as this just to feel important.)

"Fine. A little derivative, but originality and creativity are not mutually exclusive! So, here is your third star," the owl waves a wing and the third star appears on her forehead. "They should fade in a half hour. We can break for now, my padawan."

She doesn't need to be told twice––as soon as class is dismissed, she gathers herself from the grass and makes her way over to Inna like she's running away from whatever the lesson is bringing up for her. While it would have made sense for her to run off, it is interesting that she chooses to checking on Inna to solitude. For some reason, her instinctive response is to find her. Probably because the blonde has been the one constant in all the weirdness of the past few days––everyone else who had been part of this experience has more or less ended up dead (i.e., their teammates, the ship crew, the kraken, probably more to come). Logically, it makes sense to check on her to see how her lesson went. Especially since she got the sadistic sword––Inna will probably have something colorful to say about the experience and, though she won't admit it, she is curious about, perhaps even anticipating, what she'll come up with.

And without assessing the situation that she is plopping into, she falls next to Inna in a huff with her legs crossed. "Well, this has been the worst educational experience of my life," she starts, not yet realizing that her partner is crying. However, when she notices that the other is shaking, her expression reflects her concern; the sobs that follow only cause her to think, 'What the fuck...' This is disturbing. For a myriad of reasons. But primarily, because she doesn't have a lot of experience consoling others (let alone herself) and she had never thought Inna to be the crying type. (There are actually a lot of things about Inna she has not thought about. And the more she thinks about it, the more she realizes how little she knows about the blonde. She doesn't even know something as basic as her favorite color.) It's surprising that someone she had thought was too strong to cry, even above the reaction entirely, is now reduced to the fetal position. (Does Liora even think this is weak? She isn't sure.)

"Oh, you're crying," Captain Obvious says rather uselessly. She curls her knees into chest with her chin resting on top. For the most part she stays quiet and watches, exuding all awkwardness instead of comfort. And she does want to help. There is a part of her that wants to help. That doesn't want to see Inna in pain. But wherever that part of her is located, it is a weak muscle and she doesn't know how to flex it.

"These sword teachers fucking suck." Yeah, yup, she's pretty much useless and maybe she wouldn't have cared about being useless with handling other people's feelings if the other people in question weren't Inna Orlovskaya (... it's important that team morale remain high). "I think we can ditch them if we walk away without thinking about the fact that we're walking away..."

 

[Syntra]

You know these similes about the soul supposedly being like an ocean, so ~deep~ and ~mysterious~? Inna had always thought it to be just esoteric hogwash, and she still did, but with the floodgates open now-- well, the blonde could kinda see the association between the soul and water, if she squinted hard enough. Because, as the tears streamed down her cheeks? There was a genuine relief. Not happiness, or anything overblown like that, but a... sense of release? Of being freed from these chains she hadn't even realized she'd been wearing, mainly because they had been shiny and cool and, most importantly, put on by Inna herself. They had seemed like jewellery before, you see? Something that would turn her into the action movie hero archetype she had grown up on, back when daydreaming had been the only way out-- the only safe space, as pathetic as that sounded. ...except that, somehow, the stupid metaphorical necklace had turned into a fucking noose over the years. It had promised stability at first, like a banker luring you in with the promise of awesome interest rate on your first mortgage, but then, haha! Enjoy the cancerous growth, sucker. Enjoy it taking over your life, too, and squeezing every last drop of juice out of you as if you were a-- a fucking lime meant go into a cosmic mojito. (The metaphor sucked, though honestly? Inna was beyond caring. Only fuckers stupid enough to unironically study literature were sticklers for these things, and besides, she had better things to worry about. There was a goddamn ocean inside of her soul, you see, but a poisoned one, and with every tear slipping past her eyelashes, it was getting out, out, out. Prose police could fuck right off! Inna was close to a breakthrough here, dammit.)

At first, the blonde didn't notice her companion-- the world was blurry through the veil of tears, and it wasn't like it interested her now in the first place. Nah, this was Inna time, reserved for Inna and Inna alone! 'Cause she owed it to herself, for those years of neglect and emotional self-sabotage and-- and stuff like that. Liora's voice reached her nonetheless, though, so Inna raised her head. (The idea of Liora seeing her like this, with her cheeks wet from her own tears? A mere fucking hour ago, the blonde would have felt compelled to stab her and bury her in a shallow grave-- since, duh, she couldn't have allowed this totally baseless rumor of her having feelings to spread. Everyone knew that rumors were like an atomic bomb! The only way of preventing the radiation from contaminating everything in its vicinity was for the bomb not to go off in the first place, so like, she would have been extremely justified in taking that step, too. There wasn't a fucking jury in this shitty world that would convict her! ...the impulse didn't come, though. For some reason, Liora witnessing her weakness didn't really matter that much, and the realization stunned her for a moment. Like??? What would happen next, Inna becoming a fucking buddhist monk? Stay tuned to find out in the following episode of Wacky World Saving Shenanigans: Disaster Girls Edition, she guessed!)

"I guess I am," she admitted, embracing her inner Captain Obvious as well. (Liora's bitchy side seemed to have gone on a vacation, so perhaps that helped her with being honest? Because, let me tell you, baring your fucking soul in front of someone only to be judged for it immediately was a certified Not Fun situation. It had the Not Fun Institute's seal of approval and everything, too!) "I think I fucking earned it, though," Inna continued, even if her voice sounded all kinds of funny. "I mean, I was on fire. It hurt." So, so many other things had hurt as well, and maybe she would admit to that one day, too, but for now? This was good enough, the blonde thought. All the inspirational quotes she laughed at habitually claimed that every journey started with a single step, right? And acknowledging that physical pain could indeed be bad sure as hell felt like one.

"But yeah, it was fucking terrible. Maybe you were onto something with wanting to see their credentials, actually, because I'm sure these teaching methods would have gotten them flayed by pretty much any educational institution in existence." Ah, the wonderful, soothing images of death! When Inna closed her eyes, she could see it-- Haenel getting torn apart by an angry mob, Haenel burning to a crisp, Haenel being submerged in some concentrated acid. "We should follow our dreams and do it, too, because the fuckers deserve it. They can't keep escaping the karmic justice forever!" Inna hugged her knees and looked at Liora, somewhat calmer now. (Actually, could it be genuine concern that flashed in her eyes? ...perhaps. Suffering generated empathy, and yada, yada, yada.) "What did the owl do to you, anyway? I was, uh, too busy to pay attention."

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

The Bitch living in Liora's head, the one that takes up most of the limelight of her personality, has not gone on vacation. She remains, still, though now pointing all her toxins inwards as she stares at herself in a cracked mirror––one that obfuscates her face, because the face in the mirror and the Bitch herself do not reflect Liora. (Not in the slightest.) What is left onstage is a seven year old who has never been allowed to grow much at all and doesn't know how to act. (What does it even look like to retire the main actress from the show and change the entire concept in a span of hours?)

She is completely out of her depth. She is lost. And even though they have run from hellhounds, run from former colleagues, slain an entire kraken, this is the most frightened she has been. She can runaway from monsters; she can even kill them. But what does it mean to be afraid of yourself? If she had the choice, she would hide again. But whatever came out of Declan's lesson is staying––all the characters she had conjured are clinging to her and pulling her at her arms. While she wants to stuff them back into their boxes, into their cages where she had left them to rot, she can't and she doesn't know why. (That terrifies her.)

And what terrifies her even more is the realization she's never held a strong connection with anyone. Whatever is happening now, between her and Inna, feels delicate and tender... Like a peach? Or a bruise? (A bruised peach?) In that hesitancy to engage with what is happening, what she maybe wants to maintain, she fears that Inna won't want that. The fear knots between her shoulders and she holds herself as rigidly as possible to prepare for a snippy remark or some other form of Inna's rejection because, well, that's how it goes. They bitch, they bicker, and they don't do much more than that. But when Inna doesn't bite at her obvious remark or anything that she says after? She thinks that's possibly worse. Now she has to keep this up and she isn't sure that she is careful enough for that task. 'Jesus fucking Christ––don't fuck this up. Like maybe don't be yourself...? That's probably what Sol would tell you.'

"Sure," she agrees, slowly and looking over at the blonde in a way she hasn't before. Because before she had never felt shy around Inna; there hadn't been a reason to when she didn't care about the other. "As far as lessons go, it seemed medieval.

"And I told fucking you, it's not bad to have standards––if we had seen their credentials I'm sure we could have escaped being part of those... lessons––which were honestly such a fucking waste time," she huffs, stretching her legs out as she becomes more comfortable with, not the lightness of the conversation because she doesn't think it's light, but with the new tone of whatever is happening. It is something different and this difference or change is something she wants. She thinks. At the same time wonders if that's something that's even okay to want––did this desire have intentions that would later destroy her? She doesn't know.

"Like there's an entire world about to be set on fucking fire and those idiots decided hey lets set one of these bitches on fire and force this other bitch to participate in mental yoga. If I wanted to waste my time, I would have gone to art school." This is probably the most she has ever said, at one time, to Inna without any of it being harshly directed at the blonde. In fact, all of her ire seems to spare her companion. "Declan had me look at the fucking clouds and tell her stories––like do I fucking look like a Brontë sister or Mary Shelley?" Of course, in comparison to Inna's lesson she knows she had the better end of the deal––gold stars to the forehead just are not comparable to being set on fire and burning yourself with your own anger. Now that is creative, she thinks. (Okay, so maybe Declan is onto something about this whole creativity thing, because she hadn't thought about how it can be applied.)

Though the lesson had upset her too and uncovered aspects of her life she wished to remain covered (out of sight, out of mind), she doesn't share that torture with Inna. The woman can assume whatever she wants about Liora's experience and she won't correct her––because she is not going to delve into the realm of what those stories had been. Even if she keeps thinking about them––even if she cannot figure out why, because they hadn't and don't mean anything. ('Useless little worm,' someone in her mind echoes, without any prompting.) There is no reason to share them with the blonde. "Royal waste of time––Haenel and Declan can go make cryptic bullshit love to each other. Who the fuck even thinks to make a sword sentient?" 'Losers, probably.'

She stands and offers her hand to Inna, without thinking, and waits for her. "Usually, I wouldn't condone ditching, but this isn't actual school––so," she looks off in the distance and spots some smoke clustered around a city's skyline. 'So that's where Rome and thus Remus is... Avoid that.' She turns and finds a promising direction with buildings and villas that does not appear to be on fire. "Let's hope that little cluster has a fucking café, because I am tired of this shit."

 

[Syntra]

An alternative universe in which reading minds was a part of Liora's shiny magical skillset? That would have been an interesting concept to explore, really, because she would have found out that Inna's thoughts mirrored hers, more or less. (She, too, expected a bitter turn. That was kinda what Liora did, wasn't it? Crushed every chance of something more underneath her combat boots, which wasn't really what she was wearing, but she fucking should have, because with her, every conversation felt like a fight-- like a goddamn pissing contest. 'Ooh, look at how perfect I am!' 'What, you can't tell what 383383376 + 22444322938374 equals to without using your calculator? Embarrassing! Have you undergone lobotomy, sweetie?' 'What do you mean you need to breathe? I, Liora, have transcended the limitations of this mortal shell, and can thus live off concentrated smugness. Go play in the traffic!' That kind of thing, really. Now, Inna wasn't really looking forward to this development, but it had come eventually-- it always did, without a doubt, and expecting anything else would have been peak stupidity. Crying didn't turn your brain into mush, you see? So Inna knew, knew, knew, knew it in the same way she also knew the sad spectacle called 'her life' would only ever end in tragedy-- with her placed into a shallow grave, most likely, and with Liora laughing. Morbid? Maybe, but that didn't make it untrue! ...sadly.)

There was no something more. Something more was a product of her attention-starved self-- of a fucking mental disease, really, because even if Liora did give her some fictitious scraps of affection that she didn't actually have, it wouldn't be enough. They couldn't feed her. Not when she had no idea what she was hungry for in the first place, and-- yeah, no. Better not to get her hopes up, right?

Except, get this, Liora was sweet. Not cotton candy sweet, or even toothpaste for kids-tier sweet, but still sweet in her own way? Fresh more than sugary, with this minty aftertaste. (Hmmm, Liora-flavored bubblegum. Where was the so-called variety that capitalism supposedly offered now that Inna needed it, huh? Yet another proof it was just fucking bourgeois propaganda!) "Okay, okay," the blonde raised her hands in the air, smiling just a little bit, "you were right, princess. See? I don't actually mind admitting that," and, fuck, now she really didn't, "so now you can rest easy. You exercised better judgment than Inna fucking Orlovskaya. Congratz, I guess! Maybe, if you play nice enough with me, I'll carve out a little badge for you. It'll have a fucking crown and everything." And, again, a tone could make a world of difference, because the way she sounded? That could only be described as teasing-- teasing and friendly, perhaps, if you dared to go far enough in your interpretation.

"Right?" Inna exploded, once again indignant. "Like, if you have this much power, do something useful with it, bitch." ...a part of her thought Haenel's lesson had been somewhat useful, actually, but the blonde suppressed the thought. No matter what she had managed to take from it, the fox still deserved to be, uhhh... locked in a fucking zoo and forced to wear a silly hat! 'Sacred spirit' her ass, really. Nah, mate. Haenel was a clown, and the whole world should see her that way!!! "Sounds like a drag," Inna said, in a rare fit of empathy. "And I mean, no. I've seen the photos of the two, and you are prettier." ...what? Couldn't a girl make a not-so-innocent observation?

(Especially since, uh, the something more thing? Liora hadn't crushed it yet. Shyly, it grew, and Inna knew it would be slaughtered at some point, but that point hadn't come yet, and it felt kinda nice to have this, didn't it? Like a tiny pot with a tiny flower that could maybe bloom one day, if only she cared for it diligently enough. ...stupid, stupid fucking hopes.)

"You know what?" Inna smiled as she squeezed Liora's hand and pulled herself to her feet, "I'd say that ditching them is our moral duty here. Seriously, just think about it. What kind of message would we be sending by staying here, huh? That these practices are okay? I don't think so, princess! These stupid bitches need us to save the world, so they should fucking act like it. Which means, a strike it is!"

And, yeah, the gods decided to be kind to them for once, because there was a café in the village-- a small one, with white facade and furniture made entirely out of wood. (A little oasis of calm, had Inna been poetic enough to use the term. She wasn't because, hey, poems were for the weak, but honestly? Even she could admit that the atmosphere felt kinda sorta nice, especially with the smell of fresh coffee that welcomed them once they opened the door. Just, mmmmm.) "Wow! I can't remember the last time I've been to a place like this," the blonde admitted. "'Cause for Chett, cafés weren't hardcore enough." ...and she hadn't really been seeing people other than Chett, at least on the regular basis. Depressing much?

"Every single business had to be conducted in some fucking shady bar. If at least three patrons didn't throw up in front of us, it wasn't ~authentic~, apparently. I mean, was wanting to have nice things too much? I always assumed people wanted money because they also wanted nice things, but I'm having my doubts now." Most of the tables were empty, so Inna just chose one randomly, and then they had to wait for the waitress. ...which, awkward! What should they even talk about, now that they (probably) didn't hate each other? For the time being, at least?

"What kind of ice-cream do you like?" Inna blurted out, strangely flustered. "I would literally kill for pistachio. Cherry is also good, I guess, and caramel, and-- yeah, I think I can live in a world where you'd prefer blueberry to pistachio. Just don't let it be fucking vanilla, I swear. Too boring!"

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

"I mean, I would also hope so?" She says, unsure of where this train of thought is going but since she is unsure of herself she allows to take over, because it seems safer than being caught in a weird silence. "They all kind of have, or had, that look of Victorian sickliness... Like they suffered from typhoid or something and only had a single friend named Gregor growing up. Which probably contributed to their weird Victorian repression..." But they did write some nice stories, she thinks, before realizing what weird tangent had just come from her mouth. Or even before she realizes how it sounds like she's rejecting the compliment––which she isn't. She is flattered, obviously, because people don't typically compliment Liora on account of her unapproachable aura that thickened and made the air suffocating around her. "Oh, but thanks. You too?" She pauses then clarifies, "You're pretty too."

There are few people in Liora's life who make her feel like she walking on eggshells (or who make her feel like the eggshells are relevant enough to avoid rather than just crushing them with her vitriol). It surprises her that Inna, of all people, is worming her way into those ranks––and quicker than she had thought is possible. Even if they'd known each other for some number of years, none of their interactions had provided the depth it would take to climb that ladder; and yet, Inna manages to ignore the ladder entirely and invents her own escalator to the top (honestly? Why does that surprise her? That is true to Inna entirely and maybe that thought is amusing to her).

So of course, her palms feel sweaty and she's desperately hoping the blonde hadn't noticed that when she accepted the offer. (That little squeeze is felt in her heart, of all places... It's like when the pretty popular girl notices you in class and even knows your name despite never talking and clearly belonging to different social worlds.) Though she tries to play it as cooly as possible and hopes that her stoic features, also known as Perma-Bitch Face (a step above the resting variety), aren't breaking. Though it may fissure a bit when princess casually, once more, flies out of Inna's mouth. It seems to have a greater effect now, for reason that are still unclear to her.

"There used to be a place below my apartment, you know the one that you torched, that was... decent," she says, casually and not pointed. When Inna torched her apartment, after all, it wasn't like there had been many other options unless they wanted to be at the bottom of the English Channel. She also doesn't pick up on the implication that Inna didn't go out much unless she it was to meet with Chett for an assignment; simply because she is just the same––to the surprise of no one. "Well, he is a cheap fucking asshole so it makes sense he'd choose dives instead of literally anything else. It's not like a ritzy establishment would have fucking killed him or blown the cover of the operation––they're just as crawling with criminal activity as any other." More so white collar crimes or crimes way beyond the comprehension of those not in the upper echelons of society. Not that Liora knew, specifically, much about that, but she figures as much is true. Her mother certainly held all sorts of off the books meetings at them.

"Yeah, nice things or power and influence are the general reasons people want it." Power and influence usually came with those who had a different understand of how money should be used, spent, and controlled. Nice things is a pretty rudimentary purpose for money, but she doesn't say that. "Chett, apparently, wanted to use his to retrieve an ancient fucking book to destroy Rome or something," because technically they didn't really know his motivations. Liora would never assume they were good, however. Especially given some of the assignments he had sent her on seemed more like petty errands more than anything else. Like sure, your neighbor (accidentally) killing your dog with chocolate is upsetting, but does the neighbor need to be poisoned back? (And yet she did it without question, interestingly).

Her eyes flit over the menu, though she already knows what she is going to get; again, the menu is just a habit and perhaps just to fill the gaps of silence with doing something rather than sitting there and staring at each other. So she somewhat welcomes the idea of talking about ice cream––besides, her earlier realization that she didn't know much about her partner still lingers near the top of her thoughts and this is as good a way as any to at least glean more around what interests the blonde and perhaps, even, who she is beneath all of her Inna fucking Orlovskaya layers. (Also, she wonders, why the hell is Inna so obsessed with saying her full name? It seems like it's a catchphrase more than anything else at this point). "Okay, but is there something you wouldn't kill for?" She asks, raising a brow as she looks up over the menu. "I did like vanilla when I was fucking three, but obviously I'm more sophisticated than that." She sets the menu down and looks at Inna with a level of serious that is definitely not warranted for the topic at hand. "It depends on where I am, though. If I'm at the store then I'd probably get chocolate or coffee, maybe mocha." Okay, why is her answer so detailed? Inna did not ask for her life story via ice cream flavors! "When in Rome, I'd probably go for nocciola or maybe the seasonal fruit... Spumoni too?" 'Wrap it up, wrap it up, she does not need to know this!' "There was this place I used to live by," in California, "That had a horchata flavor that was pretty good as well as ube."

"You like Pokémon, right? My ex was obsessed with that pigeon one which seemed kind of lame to me." Yeah, yeah, sure just talk about your ex. That's just great. 'Okay, but it's also it's not like this is a date... This is Inna. Your colleague––what does she care about your romantic history?' She hurriedly continues, "Like that little fox-cat one that evolves a lot seems way cooler."

 

[Syntra]

So, uh. Was it just her, or had they fallen down a fucking rabbit hole and emerged in some kind of bizarro world? You know, one where Liora wasn't a bitch supreme who probably ate children in her spare time? Because sitting in this cozy little café with her was nice, almost. Not quite, though, because it wasn't real. Like, yeah, with some degree of imagination, Inna could convince herself this wasn't just a random side effect of them having undergone the emotional equivalent of waterboarding-- that they weren't just clinging to one another for the sweet, sweet sense of normalcy, 'cause better the devil you know than the fox who had set you on fire. Nah, that she'd have zero problems with. Inna happened to be an expert on these things, you see? Via careful retconning of the past events and some, uh, creative interpretations of reality, she had almost managed to trick herself into believing getting out of the bed every morning wasn't a total fucking waste of time! And, let me tell you, the talentless hacks at Hollywood would kill to have her editing skills. So, sure, the blonde could write a little AU fanfic in her head at the drop of a hat. In that fanfic, Liora would call her pretty habitually and mean it-- they'd frequent cafés together, bond over delicious desserts and, maybe, after 100k+ words of slowburn, share an equally delicious kiss. It would be pretty fucking awesome, too, with great prose and thousands of positive reviews, and--

--and it still wouldn't be any more real, the way most of her existence wasn't. Ugh, stupid fucking Haenel! Before the wretched fox had come into her perfectly fine life, Inna hadn't cared about pointless details such as, you know, most of it being a goddamn lie. Like, millions of people were content with their delusions! Some of them were even mandatory in this shithole of a society if you wanted to retain a semblance of sanity-- the widespread belief that you mattered for more than just generating profit for a handful of soulless corporations being one of them, for example. Why, then, couldn't Inna nurse hers? What kind of discrimination was that, huh? Was it because she was a criminal? Well, newsflash, motherfucker, criminals had human rights, too!

It seemed, though, that once the fucking veil had been lifted, Inna couldn't put it over her eyes again. (Have you ever watched one of those really, really old action flicks, where the stuntmen used wires for their assorted bullshittery? Well, when you spotted those, you couldn't unsee them, either. Couldn't, couldn't, couldn't! They were always fucking there, and you knew they were there, and that knowledge hovered somewhere in the periphery of your mind like a ghost of your past self that actually had had fun with the movie. ...and that was exactly what this felt like, too.)

...well, no. Maybe not exactly? More than a ghost, this seemed to be a zombie-- even if the organism was fucking dead, it still moved, and Inna did find herself having fun for some reason. (A wholly instinctive response, probably. And the shy, silly hope that they could make this real somehow? Yeah, that factored into this as well. Welcome to Inna's newest shitshow, she guessed!)

"Hmmm," the blonde smiled, in a manner that was unmistakably mischievous, "for quite a lot of things. I wouldn't kill to have my eyes gouged out, for example. I'm not really an expert on these things, but that doesn't seem like fun! I also wouldn't kill to have my face slowly peeled off my skull, or to have venomous spiders planted into my apartment. Oh, and I wouldn't care for opera tickets, either. Bleugh!" the blonde made a face, looking thoroughly disgusted with the concept. "Like, if I wanted to listen to some overly dramatic bitch scream at the top of her lungs, I could just sing in the shower for free. Also, not sure if this isn't just me, but isn't it impossible to understand what they're singing about when every goddamn syllable lasts for ages? Which, you know, is kind of a problem if you're supposed to enjoy the fucking story!"

...oookay, now she was definitely rambling as well, but hey, anything was better than awkward silence, right? Or, alternatively, this devolving into insults. (For some reason, Inna wouldn't be able to take that. Not here, and not now.) "Right," she grinned, apparently unbothered by Liora's level of detail, "I'm gonna pretend I actually know what half of those mean. They sound delicious, though! Especially the fancy Italian ones. Dunno, maybe it's the mystery component of it, actually? As in, I'd order one of those and wonder what would land in front of me." ...with some luck, it would be less spicy than that fucking soup that had reduced her to tears the last time, too. "What would you recommend?" Inna asked, her gaze innocent. "It has to go well with pistachio, though, because I am definitely having that one as well."

That change of topic, however? Yeah, it was so abrupt it might as well have fucking mugged her. "How do you know?" the blonde's eyes widened, as if Liora had just uncovered her darkest secret. (Maybe it wasn't that, though. No, she was just... mildly shocked? Shocked that Liora, the local Ice Queen, knew something about genuinely fun things. And, for that matter, that there had been an ex! Like, wow, that did crush some of her theories, alright.) "But, I mean, yeah. Pidgey is a plebeian choice, though. It's a fucking bird! A bird that does... bird things, I guess, and like, considering how out there the rest of them are, preferring it to others is like going to a fancy restaurant and stuffing your mouth with goddamn butter. Eevee is much better, I agree. What is your favorite evolution? I enjoy Vaporeon myself," Inna announced, apparently proud of her answer. ('Cause, duh, wasn't it obvious? Vaporeon was the cutest, and water was the best fucking element in those games. Only scrubs disagreed!)

"So, you played the games as well? With... your ex? Was she fun?" Nooo, it wasn't as if Inna was trying to determine what kind of person had managed to worm her way to Liora's heart-- just, haha, that would have been preposterous! (Preposterous, and maybe just slightly true.) "One of my exes introduced me to Battlestar Galactica," Inna prattled on happily, mostly because shutting the fuck up was for the weak. "She had the personality of a wet blanket, but the series was good. I, umm. What do you even like to do when you're not working princess? And saving the world now as well, I suppose." Hoo boy, what a weird, weird question! A few days ago, Inna couldn't have even conceptualized the idea of Liora doing anything else than crawling back into her fucking coffin, but... here they were, she guessed. Here they were.

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

The longer they're in the café, the more Liora worries about the ever increasing possibility that one of them will slip up and insult the other––and to be honest, she has less confidence in herself than she does Inna. This is an outcome she actually wants to avoid. Sure, it had been a past-time of hers to get under Inna's skin and make a nice blanket of it, but now that idea does not seem as comforting. Not when she wants warmth, like that lizard in her story.

So when Inna asks for her recommendation of ice cream flavor? Liora takes it on in earnest––as if to prove herself and win whatever warmth could exist in Inna (she is kind of like fire incarnate so she imagines there is a lot). She pauses, with brows knit together, fist under her chin and everything—you can practically see the smoke coming out of her ears with how hard she’s thinking. Finally, she breaks her silence and hesitantly offers, "Spumoni has three layers and one is pistachio––the others are cherry and, depending on the establishment, either chocolate or vanilla. So you might like that." For what they are discussing, she is far more fearful than she needs to be about potentially fucking up the answer (because she doesn't see it as a recommendation; it is answer and answers must be correct). As if giving the wrong answer would actually get her flamed or something equally nasty. "And, if you don't, you could just give it to me. But, if you wanted to branch out beyond those, I'll probably get nocciola and you can just try some of mine––it's also a nut flavor. Hazelnut." Okay, they hadn't even technically discussed going to get ice cream and yet Liora more or less suggests that will be their next stop. Oh, her cheeks are definitely turning pink when she realizes that. 'Alright. Alright. That's fine, I guess. She brought it up anyway...'

The waitress, thankfully, comes to take their orders and gives Liora a brief moment to recover herself before she has to dive back into this combat zone of a conversation. (The topics aren’t even that bad—Liora is just that inept and Inna makes her nervous. Like she’s been caught redhanded but she doesn’t know what the offense is.) She takes a deep breath and looks at her colleague, then down at her hands. "When you set fire to my apartment, you said, 'Charmander I choose you,' to try and activate your powers and then you called Haenel a 'second-rate pokémon' earlier. It was just a guess," she shrugs, speaking in a rather matter-of-fact way as if were presenting a brief powerpoint on the evidence that led her to believing that Inna must have enjoyed the series. Why she committed these details to memory? She isn't sure and she’s pretty sure it’s making her seem weird. (Also why does she feel like she’s about to pass out of some unknown disease that’s making her feel so severely off-kilter?)

"No, I don't play video games. They're for children," Okay, oops. "I mean, they're fine... I guess. Do what you want with your life––they just seem like a waste time." The grave she's digging? It's only getting deeper the harder she tries to correct her first statement. 'Jesus fucking Christ, Liora! Stop being so fucking judgmental––it literally cannot be that hard.' Frustrated, feeling something near her sternum strain, she looks away from Inna. Nevertheless, she still continues with her correction, because for some reason she really doesn't want to screw this up (whatever this is). "I mean, I didn't mean that––I don't think... I just––they never appealed to me," which isn't necessarily true. She may or may not be nursing a grudge against the entire franchise because she hadn't been allowed to play them or anything, really, as a kid...

Anyway, as a distraction from witnessing whatever reaction Inna will have to that horrendous display, she quickly pulls out her phone and searches 'Eevee evolutions' and scrolls through the pictures. "Umbreon. Espeon looks kind of cute too." Obviously, she has no idea about pokémon types and is going based purely off their looks. She also didn't want to pick vaporeon in case it seemed like she was just copying, but she does think that one looks cute too. Actually, "They all look cute. I like all of them, I think." 'Wait, shit... Am I allowed to like all of them? She said favorite... Favorite means one, right?'

This entire conversation is out of Liora's emotional range and even though she thinks it's unpleasant, there isn't anything in her that wants to leave (an emotional masochist? It feels that way). While that is partly because she does not want to be alone right now, there is a part of her that wants to know more about her partner. That wants to stay with Inna and be not alone with her, specifically––and not even because she’s technically a last resort. The newness of that desire is somewhat unsettling to her, because she doesn't know what it means or what it's called, but again it isn't something that she is avoiding (at least not right now).

"She wasn't fun, actually. She also didn't really have any huge ambitions like saving the world. Like why get a law degree if all you're going to do is become a tax lawyer? It was really irritating. But she, um," met her mother's standards, to be honest; and filled a benign curiosity she had about relationships, because she had wanted to know if she liked them (her middle and high school ones didn't count). And after ending that relationship, she had decided she didn't care for them and hasn't pursued any since. "She was pretty, I guess." Liora's romantic side is showing in that she doesn't seem to have one. Though maybe that would change if she actually feelings for her partners? 'As if...' That's something that she thinks is a fantasy or, if not, reserved for lucky few.

When the conversation shifts to what she does outside of work, she rests her chin on her palm, with her elbow on the table, and looks everywhere except for Inna (again). She finds it difficult to focus in that particular direction, especially when what she did outside of 'work' was work, but for a different cause. "I really didn't... don't do things outside of work. I try to not waste time when I can be doing something more useful with it." If she sounds lame, that's because she is and she really hadn't been bothered by that until a few hours ago when Declan had forced her to tell stories... When she had told her that her upbringing hadn't been normal. "So outside of saving the world, I'll probably continue to do that––except for when, apparently, we get assigned the worst teachers in the fucking world. There really is no appreciation for the craft anymore. Apparently, they'll just give anyone credentials." 'Liora, shut up!'

"What about you? Do you have interests outside of being in the mafia and Pokémon?" 'And pistachio ice cream... and Battlestar, apparently..' It's like she's holding onto these four sacred facts for dear life and perhaps she is even hungry for more. "Also, I realized earlier I don't know your favorite colors. Mine are black and gold," her eyes imply that she expects Inna to share in return.

 

[Syntra]

"That, uh. That is nice of you," Inna said, without thinking, because it was true. No, seriously. Liora expressed a freakish amount of consideration, at least for her usual bitchy self, and that had to be appreciated somehow-- 'cause, you know, positive reinforcement and shit. (Who knew? Maybe Inna could actually Pavlov reflex her way into getting a normal fucking partner. With some luck, the stick in ass hadn't reached internal organs yet, so pulling it out would only result in minimal damage. Afterwards, they would be able to enjoy numerous wonderful activities, such as uhhh, existing in the general vicinity of one another without triggering WW3 every time they opened their mouths! And all of that, ladies and gentlemen, just for the low, low price of acting friendly to Liora. Okay. Okay, then! Just so you know, Inna hadn't been raised in the fucking woods. She knew how to be nice, thank you very much-- she just chose not to be most of the time, because this shit world didn't exactly give her a lot of incentives. Once the blonde decided to be sweet, though? Nobody could beat her in this game, mostly because nobody could beat her at anything, period. Yeah, she was just that good. Inna Orlovskaya, bitches!) "Thank you," she added, her conviction growing stronger by the second. Rudeness wasn't working, so she'd drown her in kindness instead! In inquisitive questions and birthday well-wishes and forehead kisses and, uhh, all those things that people who didn't hate each other did. Like, it couldn't be that hard. Mammals were group animals, theoretically, so following their instincts should elicit the desired results, right?

Step number one: restrain your inner bitch, embrace your inner hippie. C'mon, Inna, you can do it!

Liora apparently wanted to test the depths of that resolve, though, because the way that she responded? Yeah, that wasn't how you earned friends. That was how you earned a fucking black eye! Inna's brows almost returned to their default, perpetually annoyed position, but then-- huh. Then Liora started correcting herself, in what almost seemed like an attempt to sound like a less of a spoil sport. ...wow. Wow, okay, now she had seen everything! (It wasn't a particularly good attempt, mind you. More than anything else, it elicited pity-- kinda like a three-legged puppy who thought it could win an agility race, or a kid who genuinely believed they could follow their dreams instead of becoming one irrelevant cog in the capitalist Money Machine. Regardless of that, though? That Liora cared enough to try was... sweet, somehow. Endearing.)

"Okay," Inna tilted her head aside, her expression playful, "but riddle me this, love. If games are for kids, then why are there so many 18+ titles, huh? Are you suggesting the kids should - gasp! - break that rule? How scandalous of you! And, and, and. Do you even know how big the gaming industry is? Millions rely on it to feed themselves, so like, if I stop compulsively buying games every month, some random family will starve. That's just basic economics, baby. The most grown up thing ever!" With fire in her eyes, Inna leaned closer-- it was a good thing the table separated them now, really, because without that? The blonde would have been firmly wedged in Liora's personal space. "Also, I severely doubt that. Games not appealing to you, I mean. That's like saying you don't like books or flowers or, uhh, sweets! Like, there are so many genres that you can't possibly dislike everything. I have three words for you, princess: statistically fucking impossible. You know what, actually?" Inna put her hands behind her head and flashed her a perfect smile, "I'll find you something you'll like. I swear, on my non-existent honor. We'll play together, and you'll be able to forget about all those Important ThingsTM for a while. It's good for your head, you see? To let it relax. The brain needs a vacation from time to time to recycle thoughts as well."

The thing that kinda got to her, though? That Liora continued to try, try and try, endlessly, almost as if her opinion actually mattered. She even reached for her mobile to look up the fucking evolutions, for god's sake! (And when she did so? Inna looked at her-- really, really looked at her, possibly for the first time in her life. She didn't do it to imagine a target in place of her face, or to pierce her with her glare, or for any other nefarious reason. Nah, mate. She looked at Liora to see her, and... uh. Didn't she seem kinda nervous, actually? Fragile, in this distinctly not-Liora way? Wow. The very fabric of this universe was tearing in front of her fucking eyes! ...and, on some level, she understood her. That was the scary part.)

"Wanting to be a lawyer isn't ambitious enough?" Inna snorted. "My most ambitious ex wanted to get her own TV show because she could shoot Sprite through her nose really, really far. It absolutely needed to be Sprite, as water didn't apparently have the right properties," the blonde rolled her eyes as she made air quotes with her fingers. "Can you believe? I dumped her after she threw a hissy fit about me not understanding the depth of her artistry, or something. Anyway, she at least was fun. Why did you even date your ex at all? Like, were there any redeeming qualities?" Because it sure as hell didn't sound like that. Rather than a former girlfriend, Liora seemed to be describing a handbag she had bought on impulse and subsequently never worn because it didn't match the rest of her fucking wardrobe. Except that, duh, girlfriends weren't handbags! ...at least if you didn't happen to be a psycho, or something.

That Liora didn't do much outside of her job wasn't a surprise, but it still felt... off, a little bit. Like??? How could one person be this fucking defined by what she did to get money? Sad, truly, and not even in an ironic way. Just, didn't she ever want more? More than this bullshit reality offered to people? Thankfully, the waitress returned then, and so Liora was spared Inna's pity. "Wow! This looks really fucking good. I'm almost inclined to forgive Haenel-- because, thanks to her fuckery, I was able to meet this beauty," Inna sighed, her gaze dreamy, as she observed the tall glass full of ice cream. Living didn't necessarily have to translate into suffering, it seemed!

"The love of my life, no doubt. Anyway," the blonde said before sinking her spoon into the frozen treat, "I like a lot of things. Cooking. Eating. Skiing is nice as well, I guess. But when I'm bored, I just observe people and make up stories about them. The girl sitting two tables away from us, for example? Looks like a serial killer to me. I bet her favorite method is flesh-eating scarabs, and now she's calling her dealer because the last scarabs he had sold her were herbivorous. Embarrassing, especially when you go on a villainous monologue and everything and your weapon just fails! Couldn't be me-- that's why I prefer my gun. It's nice and sturdy." Her, rambling? Yeah, more likely than you might think! "And, uh, purple, I guess? My apartment was full of purple. Purple bed sheets, purple pictures, purple everything."

A certain thought had been planted in her head, though, and it wouldn't fucking let her go-- it waved at her, and screamed, and demanded her attention like a spoiled brat who wanted her 12th new toy this week and knew exactly how to get it. And in the end? Inna capitulated. "Are you nervous, Liora?" she asked, in a tone that was unusually thoughtful for her. (Sweet, almost.) "I mean, you don't have to be. You've blown your first impression with me years ago, so now it can only get better. Plus, I'm kinda... enjoying this," the blonde admitted, suddenly feeling bashful herself. "This is nice. I think. What I meant to say is that I know this is nice, but, uh, in this hard to describe way? Not sure. Though I am!" Oh, god. Where were Chett's hired killers when she actually wanted to be shot?!

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

The last few days seem to be about unpacking all the new weird shit about the state of the world, the state of the Universe, and now, apparently, the state of their partnership; because now they both seem, or at least Liora is, in her own way, trying to repair the smashed to dust state of their relationship. Honestly, saving the world kind of seemed like the easier task. But Liora, ever ambitious, and not one to do a job half-assed, puts her entirety into this endeavor since she has decided it is worth her time to pursue.

When Inna leans forward, Liora leans back––not particularly fond of people being in her personal bubble (which could also be described as her person fortress with how fortified it seems to be). However, it's a subtle gesture than anything else. It's not like she puts her finger on Inna's forehead to push her backwards (but any closer and she might). A small smile makes an appearance, a result of being enamored with Inna's brilliant one––the kind that you kind of want to stare at forever. Even if it is the result of her wanting to find a game that Liora will actually enjoy, even if she's rolling her eyes, highly and obviously doubtful, it amuses her. And she doesn't reject the idea outright either. "If that's how you want to spend your time, you're welcome to try. But I've never played a fucking video game in my life," not even a mindless app like Candy Crush, "And I'm doing pretty fine without the experience. But, what was it you said the other night? You can try and rock my world."

(As an aside, she is running a parallel thought process of coming up with a nickname she thinks will fluster Inna as much as princess does for her.)

"Well, not really––anyone can be lawyer. Just study hard and take the bar––or go to law school, study hard there, and then take the bar. It's not really that impressive." At least, she didn't think so––her own career goals had once included law school and therefore that meant anyone could do it. Also, she does think it's interesting that Inna has dated before as well. Not that she isn't attractive and not that Liora doubts someone would want her, for whatever reason, she had just assumed that she was more the love them and leave them type than anything else. "That's disgusting," she doesn't even think that Inna's ex sounds fun––she thinks she sounds like an idiot (and it doesn't surprise her Inna would partner with one). Though Liora is not the judge on what counts as fun being the Countess of Uncool. "She asked me out," again, she is matter-of-fact about this as if that is the penultimate reason to date another person. "And I agreed," after three rejections. "I guess because I didn't totally think she was annoying. We sort of had similar goals and she seemed stable, like she could at least provide equally and wouldn't get in the way of my goals. No big red-flags either like being overly emotional or something. She had an important last name, too." If it sounds like Liora treated relationships as check-lists that is an extremely accurate assessment. Is it surprising? Not in the slightest. "I didn't think she'd embarrass me either––like if I brought her home or whatever." Again, mother's approval is paramount––almost before her own.

... Which she hadn't really thought about until now. And now that she is thinking about it, it's disturbing that she can acknowledge that her decisions are STILL ruled and informed by what she perceives her mother might think about her. That's uncomfortable, maybe more so that having to create made up stories. 'Ohmyfuckinggod... Still??' She takes a scoop of her ice cream, letting the tip of the spoon rest on her bottom lip while she watches Inna's face light up instead. That's much easier to think about than the internal world that is being set on fucking fire like everything else in her life.

When Inna starts to tell a story about the girl a few tables away from them she feels a tinge of jealousy because of how easily it seemed to come to blonde after she had practically sprained her brain trying to come up with three stories for Declan. At the same time, she isn't exactly surprised that Inna had this skillset––after all, her colorful insults and zinger-lines definitely demonstrated her creative––'Wait, why the fuck do I have the creative ability when clearly Inna is the creative one between the two of us––controlling the fucking elements has got to be way more aligned with me.' Though, interestingly enough, she takes careful notes about the story and tries to think of one of her own. (Declan would be so proud of her shining star pupil.) "That's interesting. How did you do that though? Like, just come up with a story like that? The best I could come up with would be that she's on her period and waiting for her girlfriend to bring her a spare change of shorts," she admits, knowing that story is significantly worse than Inna's.

“I—no?” Being nervous isn’t a Liora thing to do, what does a Liora even have to be nervous about? Fucking up the fragile balance of the Universe by slaying her partner with sharp words? Actually, yeah she is pretty nervous about that and has been this entire time. She knows this—just coming from Inna and knowing how obvious it looks wants her crawling inwards on herself until she implodes or anything equally dramatic. Basically, she wants to disappear and she gets the idea that her heart wants to as well (can the blonde see that too?). “I’m not nervous. I don’t get nervous,” she says, nervously? Because yeah, her voice is shaking and under the table she’s wringing her hands like you do whenever you’re convinced you can, actually, squeeze a towel completely dry. “I’ve just never done this before,” been normal, been nice, been a lot of things. If she thinks hard she maybe remembers an instance or two when these similar physical reactions had occurred but she doesn’t really remember how it went down. “But my stomach feels weird... maybe all that magic bullshit is making me sick.” (Butterflies). “It probably has side effects, right?”

And watching Inna ramble? As if she’s the actual nervous one? “Maybe you’re projecting, like Freud, because you seem nervous. Or are you always like this?” Her question, while it has a certain, pardon the French, je ne sais quoi that could be taken as incredibly fucking rude it actually carries a genuine curiosity. “I don’t think I know what you’re like.” Frustrated as she is with how poorly she believes she's performing right now, the blonde's positive reinforcement actually does encourage her to keep trying. "But, yeah, I like you too." Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. "I mean––you're probably fine, like yeah I'm sure I could like you, or appreciate you or something, but I didn't mean that... But like, wait, is that mean? Just strike that from the record, please," she's desperate. "This is nice too."

If she holds her breath and closes her eyes maybe she can manifest the ability to either (A) fly away or (B) become invisible. If she is really lucky, the sweet goddess Death will kiss her forehead and she can permanently exit this reality, because that honestly seemed like a better alternative that existing in this café. "... Yeah, I'm nervous," she finally admits since she more or less made that incredibly obvious even she cannot live in Denial. She puts her head down on the table, somewhat giving up the ruse that she isn't nervous or that she isn't exhausted from all this bullshit. It's a pretty unusual posturing for her and she probably won't be able to recover from it go back to whatever normal is or was. "This isn't normal, is it?"

 

[Syntra]

"Okay, okay, okay!" Inna waved her hand dismissively, as if she was trying to shoo away an especially annoying fly. "But like, all of that is literally irrelevant. Why did you like her?" Because, so far, it seemed to the blonde that Liora was describing a job interview for a not-that-great-but-also-not-horrible job-- you know, the kind of offer you accepted because you wanted to pay your bills and were too chickenshit to enter the world of crime. So, uh, not the words you'd use for someone who made your heart skip a beat! (Which, what the fuck, man. This didn't correspond with her inner image of what Liora was like at all! Now, Inna obviously didn't think her partner was into grand romantic gestures-- she couldn't imagine her filling her bed with rose petals in anticipation of some wink, wink, nudge, nudge shit, or serenading her love interest under a balcony like a much hotter version of Romeo. Nah, both of those seemed downright absurd. Liora not being picky about the people she dated, though? The same Liora who had given her a whole goddamn lecture on what types of ice-cream were worthy of her refined, refined tongue? Inna knew she was repeating herself at this point, but what the fucking fuck! That was like... uh, like making a huge deal out of which shoes you were going to wear for some fancy schmancy event while neglecting to put on any pants. Actually, no, scratch that-- still not absurd enough. It was like ruminating over the shoe dilemma while ignoring the fact that the host had been fucking murdered, so duh, no party, idiot!) "Anyway, doesn't seem like the greatest love story ever. And, hey, say what you want about Elyse," The Sprite Girl, "but at least she composed a burp poem for me. It was romantic."

A part of Inna, and a large one, expected Liora to just scoff at the story-- to call it a waste of time, criticize her for using so much of her brainpower on anything but world domination schemes, and move on. 'Cause that was her signature style, right? The most boring version of utilitarianism possible, straight out of some fucking corporation's handbook! Except that, uh, no. She... she seemed to appreciate it? And want tips??? Whoa, mate. Okay, so who was this woman and what had she done to her partner? Had Declan swapped bodies with her protege, imprisoning the actual Liora in her tiny, feathered body? Because, yeah, character development was a thing, though more than that, this seemed like total character annihilation-- like tearing Liora apart on the subatomic level and then putting her back together, but wrong. (Or right? Since Inna did like this version better and everything.) "How do I do it?" she repeated, her brows furrowed. "I mean, I just turn my brain off? Then I play with all those fun, fun associations. And your story isn't bad, but it needs more murder. All stories could use more murder, I think. More murder, and also more ghosts!" Inna exclaimed, more excited than she probably should have been. "So, maybe her girlfriend actually died last year-- specifically because she wanted to bring her those shorts and some fucking asshole ran her over. Tragic, really. The girlfriend never got over it, so now she visits this café whenever That Time of the Month comes for her and waits for her shorts, hoping that her distress will reach her beloved in the underworld. ...or something," Inna shrugged. "Still needs more action, but it's not, like, unsalvageable. Maybe we could throw in some exorcism?" When had this changed into a creative writing lesson, again? The blonde had no idea, but this was... nice, actually. Relaxing, in this chill way where she could build castles in the air and not worry about Liora setting them on fucking fire.

"Riiiiight," Inna grinned, putting her head in her hands. "Of course you aren't. Silly me, right? I mean, why would anyone interpret these obvious signs of nervousness as nervousness? Clearly, you're just bluffing. Want to lull me to a false sense of safety so you can steal my wallet while I melt over how cute you're being, huh?" ...which was, uh, more than she had intended to say, but so what? This kinda seemed to be a running theme in this café. (Had the waitress spiked their ice-cream with a truth serum, or something? Well, whatever! This was her new life, apparently, so she was going to roll with it. Not much else she could do about it, anyway. Resistance would only result in the Universe trying to fuck her over that much harder!) "That's a lot of effort for nothing, princess, considering the fact that I only have like ten pounds in there. Choose better victims next time!"

Liora's next outburst, though? It gave her about five types of whiplash at once, and Inna wasn't sure what to think. Like??? What was this, the world's most complicated plan to insult her, or the world's most egregious example of social ineptness since the invention of anime pillows? ...the latter, Inna decided, when Liora all but collapsed in front of her. Wow, wow, wow! (Also, had she admitted she liked her? Ah. Um. Okay. The butterflies seemed to be dancing a fucking jive in her stomach, but Inna, of course, was alright. And the crimson that stained her cheeks? Look, anyone would have reacted like that after such a confession! Liora was objectively fucking hot, and the body had, uh, certain pre-programmed responses. Haha!)

"It... isn't, I guess," Inna admitted. "But don't you think it's a little too late to get fixated on a sense of normalcy, anyway? That fucking ship has sailed." Along with their careers, their chance at a vaguely normal life and most of her dignity. (Yay! Thank you, Fate, for this awesome, awesome development. Without these new, exciting ways of drawing the short end of the stick, Inna would get bored of managing to do exactly that every single time!) The curious thing, though? Liora's capitulation bothered her-- bothered with a capital B, even. Like, hadn't they just agreed this was nice? Why wasn't she enjoying herself, then? To detract from the Niceness? Oh no, no, no. Inna Orlovskaya wouldn't stand for this bullshit! "You wanted to know what I was like," the blonde said as she stood abruptly, allowing the chair to topple. "Okay, then. Fucking okay. Just watch!"

"Miss, what are you--?" the waitress began, but at that point, Inna was bending down and... uhhh, walking on her hands? Or, more accurately, falling on her ass. She had made like three steps, though, which, great! Her new personal record! With a sweet smile on her lips, Inna looked up at Liora from her spot on the floor. "Still nervous, princess? 'Cause I have more tricks up my sleeve."

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

Honestly, Liora feels that she has answered Inna's question already, because to her the things about a potential partner that she can cross off on her Build-A-Bitch Workshop (where Life Partners are made) check-list are the things that attract her to people. (Actually, that is not true at all. The check-list, again, serves as a purpose to make sure she can avoid any undue criticism from the one and only mother dearest. If she happened to also be attracted to this person as well, then that would be the icing on the cake. Though, luckily, none of that is relevant to her anymore since she found the partnership to be more draining than worthwhile and thus carries the assumption that they will all be like that. So relationships are on hold for the foreseeable future until she sets aside the time for that energy drain––aka never.) So she chooses to ignore the question––besides, if Inna were to ask her what she would like about another person she wouldn't have an answer and she doesn't want to admit that. "So that's what it takes to win the heart of the great Inna Orlovskaya? A burp poem?" Her tone more or less tells the blonde that she isn't surprised (but it doesn't suggested that she is disappointed or otherwise judging the arrangement). "How will your next partner ever top that?" she teases. "Personally, I think you could probably do better than that."

However, in the next moment, with absolute white horror in her eyes, she watches as Inna bursts from her seat and proceeds to... Stand on her hands? While Liora is mortified and embarrassed that she's being associated with this kind of dumbassery, it's also hard to ignore that the display makes her giggle even if her face is bright red. While there is a part of her that does want to snap at Inna for being so childish, with everything that has been surfacing lately, she decides against it and somehow... Enjoys it––against everything in her that tells her enjoying something like this is childish, immature, for people who have no sense of dignity or self-preservation (which, maybe Inna doesn't have those last bits, but what does she care? Why does she care so much about how other people live their lives?). She finds herself appreciating the fact that Inna had done all that not to just amuse her, but to help relieve her nerves? It's sweet, in it's own way, she thinks. Usually, when she's nervous she's only used to getting more nervous so... It's kind of a nice change of pace.

She leans forward towards the blonde on the floor, amused smile still on her lips (thoughtlessly) as she reaches to sweep loose strands of hair from Inna's face. Some might say she caressed her, even––those daring enough to make such a connection. But no, Liora's interpretation of the scene is much different. To her, she is simply just helping a... a friend with something that she, herself, would think is a nuisance. Besides, it is super easy to turn off her brain when Inna is smiling at her like that––like permission to drop her walls (or at least make a window at the bottom to allow Inna to peek inside and glean what the rest of her personality could possibly be behind the demon guardian). She shakes her head, still simpering, and just says, "So you're a clown?" (Yeah, this does feel nice. Kind of like being held, but not really––she isn't sure how to describe it and while she is mildly suspicious of it, she hesitantly lets it be.)

It doesn't surprise her that Inna may naturally be a dumbass, when she's not being an asshole, but she has never been privileged enough to see this side of her partner (likewise, it's not like Inna had ever seen whatever side this is of Liora––which feels distinctly not like Liora at all). "That was unexpected, actually," she says, though she is thinking it would have been more impressive if she had made it further than a few steps. But she keeps that to herself. Something about nothing nice to say, don't say it? "Were you trying to show off?" Still, Liora is Liora and competition is somewhat her default setting after the bitch one. "I can do a cartwheel."

 

[Syntra]

It was bizarre. Bizarre and surreal and uncanny, and more fancy synonyms for 'shocking' that Inna couldn't think of at the moment, because, really, who the fuck even needed them? Like, the ones she had mentioned were all perfectly fine words, god dammit. Just use those instead running off to find a thesaurus! ...but, uh, she was kinda rambling now. The point was, Inna felt good. Just genuinely good, no ifs or buts about it, and even more shockingly, she felt good thanks to Liora. Yep, that was right-- 'thanks to', not 'despite of' or even 'as a petty form of revenge'. That realization struck her when the other woman giggled, because, wow. Who would have guessed that Liora 'Probably Murders Kitten for Fun' Trihn could even produce such a sound? (...and who would have guessed it would be this fucking cute, too? Like, not fair!!! Cuteness of this caliber should be illegal, or at least regulated by the state. You know, to ensure the planet would keep on turning instead of stopping abruptly, the way Inna's breath just did. Clearly, this was a matter of global fucking safety! So, couldn't some Big Brother type follow her around and prevent her from smiling Like This more often than once per day? Since that was her limit, Inna was convinced of that. One more smile this radiant and she would fucking combust, like a vampire in direct sunlight!)

Liora, of course, sensed that weakness. Why else would she have gone in for the kill? She leaned closer and closer, and Inna could only watch the scene unfold in slow motion-- mainly because she was utterly fucking paralyzed. (Kind of like a fly in a spider's web, really. If Liora decided to pull out a gun out of her handbag and shoot her in that very moment? Inna would probably thank her, mostly because she was in a serious need of restart. Just, ugh!!! Who did you contact if you wanted to get a refund for your own goddamn brain? 'Cause brains weren't supposed to freeze like this, Inna was pretty fucking sure of that. They were supposed to solve problems and produce thoughts and generally work for their owner, not against them! ...except that then Liora caressed her, oh so gently, and the rest of her world? It fucking shattered with that single touch. Truly, how many weapons of mass destruction did she have at her disposal?!)

(It was worse than the kisses they had shared. Worse and also simultaneously better, somehow, which was the kind of contradiction Inna had sort of come to expect from Liora. Making sense was so last century, you see? Anyway, it was worse because there had been no dumbass bets this time-- nah, Liora had just gone and annihilated her casually because she felt like it, apparently. That also made it better, though? In some intangible, difficult-to-grasp way. ...look, Inna had never claimed to be a fucking intellectual. If you wanted a semblance of internal consistency, you should have picked up a maths textbook or something! Now, shoo.) "Um. Not a clown," the blonde protested, more out of habit than anything else. "I prefer charmer. It has a nicer ring to it. Or, if you insist on something clown-aligned, than a jester. You know, so that I can serve in your court-- since you're a princess and everything." ...so, okay. What was next? Would her brain jump out of her skull, a tiny knife in its hands, and stab her directly into her heart? Because that was kinda what had just happened, metaphorically, so it wouldn't really surprise her if it tried to level up and attempted literal murder as well! (It would also make sense, she supposed, for only Inna Orlovskaya could kill Inna Orlovskaya. Ah, the sad, lonely fate of people who were too badass for their own good!)

"I, um. I'm glad you enjoyed it, I guess? If that was what you meant by that. Please, say that you did," the blonde continued to speak, to her own horror. (Just, what? Had she really said that? Some parasite must have taken control over her mouth, really, because there was no other explanation for this bullshit. No. Other. Explanation! ...except maybe for her personality falling apart? Since it sure as hell did feel as if there were multiple Innas inside of her head now, and perhaps a few Ivys as well, and all of them were engaged in this epic battle royale for-- for--) Thankfully, however, Liora provided a much-needed distraction from her own internal chaos.

"Can you?" Inna asked, desperately trying to appear cool and unbothered. (And as for whether it worked? The audience would have to decide that on their own, really.) "Well, go on. Show me then, princess. You see, a burp poem isn't the only way to earn my heart-- it is true that it can only be won via actions, though. I'm not one for pretty words!"

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

Inna is amusing. In this last hour or so with her, she has come to the conclusion to reassess her prior notions of the blonde. So far, she has removed "asshole" and "annoying" from the word association bank floating in her mind whenever Inna is mentioned or within her realm of existence. It's surprising to think it took her this long to see this, but it also makes sense given that previously they both essentially avoided each other as much as they could. And if they couldn't? Well, the interactions had been just short of Chernobyl levels of reactivity. In fact, the contrast is so stark she may or may not believe this is all but a dream––a weird one, sure, but she had been having some interesting dreams as of late.

Even if her stomach feels weird, there something pleasant about it; like the way hot soup can warm you from the inside out on a cold day. That's kind of what this feels like, but magnified to the nth degree. It somehow even increases when Inna starts referring to serving on her court, because Liora is a princess. And before she can even stop herself, blurts out, "Why do you keep calling me princess?" The other affections don't bother her so much––love, for example, can be colloquial, she supposes, but princess? It has always struck her as more intimate; it may not be unique, but something about it does make her feel special. (Maybe that's why she has the reaction she does every time Inna, specifically, uses it on her?) "I mean, not that I mind, I guess––I just..." she just, she just, she just doesn't really know where she had been going with that line of thought. Her cheeks might as well be a rose garden in the spring. "...Have been curious."

Of course, when Inna starts rambling again it's Liora's turn to melt––well, actually, no. She doesn't melt. An Ice Queen such as herself thaws; and slowly, eventually, all of Inna's radiance will free that human person trapped beneath all the permafrost. (Secretly, she does wonder if there are other ways to fluster Inna, because she thinks it's endearing and it pulls her in and there is part of her that misses this. And she doesn't question how she can miss something she's never technically experienced, because it just makes sense and she accepts that piece.) "Yeah," she relents, "I did enjoy it." More than that, she appreciated the gesture for reasons she doesn't really want to disclose. "It was... sweet. I didn't know you were thoughtful. I kind of thought you were just an asshole." Her eyes widen, horrified, and quickly she scrambles to save the mood before she ruins it completely, "––I mean, like because I don't know you that well, you know... It was sweet and like that's kinda why it wa––" before she can finish that, she turns her brain back on and shuts up immediately, brows furrowing together as she scolds herself for saying too much. It's frustrating that she believes she has to provide all this evidence to what she is saying and that all her evidence has to sound slightly offensive. The art of shutting the fuck up is one she is clearly working on. She purses her lips together and takes a deep breath. "No one's ever, um, done something like for me..."

"Okay, but not in here," she says, recovering quickly, and eager to jump on an opportunity to (1) show off and (2) gloss over entirely how she is not equip for socializing normally. For those reasons, It sort of doesn't occur to her to think about Inna's implication that she's trying to win her over. Instead, she waves over the waitress to pay for the ice creams and once that is taken care of, she searches for a soft spot to perform this stunt. This happens to be a grassy park across the street from the café.

Of course, only after stretching to avoid injury does she easily perform the cartwheel in a fluid motion. Unsurprisingly, it's not enough for Liora to perform a single cartwheel and she goes for three. Somewhat to match Inna's three steps on her hands. "I used to be able to do more, but I'm out of practice," she continues, somehow existing between shy and boasting. She walks back over to Inna, one hand on her hip. She scratches her head, "So, if you're vying for the Charming or jester spot in my court, what would you do to, um, prove which slot you deserve to be in?"

 

[Syntra]

Pffft! Who would have thought that Miss I-Am-So-Perfect-That-My-Farts-Don't-Stink would struggle this much with, you know, basic fucking communication? It was like watching a freshly hatched bird trying to take to the skies for the very first time-- and it plummeting to the ground instead because, duh, birds this young didn't have any feathers yet. Careful there, stupid little birdie! ...was what Inna might have said a few days ago, really, except that turning Liora's life into living hell didn't seem nearly as appealing anymore, for some fucking reason. (Perhaps due to her attention span? Like, yeah, antagonizing her had been fun, but at this point, it was like replaying the same goddamn game for the ninth time-- metaphorically speaking, Inna had seen all the endings, tried out all the viable playstyles and knew the cutscenes by heart. So, what did that mean? That she needed something fresh, of course! A new game entirely-- a cooperative one instead of a competitive one, maybe. ...or a dating sim? Those usually were too easy to truly capture her interest, but hey, managing to seduce Liora must have been like winning the Pulitzer's prize of dating! Or climbing the Mount Everest of dating, or-- or killing the Fidel Castro of dating. So, in other words, a ridiculously difficult task! ...and also, if the blonde were to be honest with herself, she didn't hate the idea. Not even a little bit, which might have contributed to the decision somewhat.) "Oh," Inna grinned, "but I am an asshole, princess. At least on work days-- it's part of my persona as a badass gangster. A girl gotta watch her reputation, as I'm sure you understand. On weekends, though? I'm an utter darling, sweet enough to rot your teeth. You'll see, if you stick with me long enough!"

...which was a joke, obviously, but only for about forty percent? Because Inna did mean it, at least the sticking part. (Nobody had really done that for her before, you see? Not a single fucker had ever waited for longer than three seconds to see whether there was more to her-- whether, maybe, she had more to offer than the cool persona Haenel had accused her of wearing. Nah, deleting her number it had been! Always, always, always. ...yeah, yeah, perhaps Inna hadn't exactly made it easy for them, but so fucking what? Every stupid motivational quote in existence hammered into people's heads that they should work for the truly good things in life, dammit! A princess didn't fucking offer her hand in marriage to the first knight that visited her castle, and, uh. Maybe Inna liked to pretend, at the very least, that she was worthy of that kind of effort, too. ...even if the rest of the world didn't seem to agree.)

"Oh?" Inna's eyes lit up when Liora promised to perform some gymnastics for her-- more than anything else, she resembled a kid in a candy shop. "Okay, okay, okay! Lead the way, princess. Quickly, before you change your mind." ...why was she being so enthusiastic about this, again? Inna couldn't tell, actually. Like, it was a fucking cartwheel, not a private rock concert-- there was nothing particularly jaw-dropping about watching someone exercise. Millions of non-Americans did that every goddamn day, so like, nothing exciting there! (Except for, uh, that tiny, tiny implication. You know, the implication that implied, in this very implicit way, that Liora did it to please her? And that, based on this ClueTM, she might be willing to do other things as well for her? To kiss her some more, perhaps, and engage in other, uh, kiss-aligned actions. Hahaha! Haha. Ha. ...fucking hell, was it suddenly hot in here!)

Un-fucking-surprisingly, Liora turned out to be an expert at cartwheels. Not that the blonde expected anything else, of course-- Liora didn't seem to be the type to reveal her weaknesses eagerly, and she had been the one to suggest this. "Whoo!" the blonde clapped nonetheless, smiling from ear to ear. "Good job, princess. Ten out of fucking ten." ...this did mean, however, that now Inna had to find a way to impress her as well. Hmm! How, though? Gymnastics wasn't something Inna had ever excelled at, so like, something told her this shit wouldn't be the key to Liora's heart-- not unless she enjoyed watching her fall on her ass, anyway. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Would this be the end of their grand romance, then? No, Inna! Use your goddamn head for once. Isn't that why it's sitting on your neck, huh? That sounded reasonable, so she did consult her brain, and... ooh, bingo. Heureka, even! "Fine, fine. I understand that I need to prove myself. Close your eyes, though-- I'll need some time to put my evil, evil plan into motion. Prepare to be amazed!"

A minute or so passed, until-- "Ta-dah!" Inna beamed, smiling that sweet smile of hers that was (unofficially) reserved for Liora now. "You can open your eyes." And once she did so? The blonde was handing her a neat little flower crown, woven out of what appeared to be daisies. "This is not jester-y, I guess, but I can take care of your PR for you. Every princess needs a crown, and, umm. That may have been one of the reasons I invented the nickname for you, honestly. I thought you'd look nice in it."

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

She doesn't have it in her to say it with her words, because maybe she hasn't practiced, but at least with her eyes, she tells Inna, 'Thank you,' after she leans into Liora's asshole comment. Even if it is true and how she feels, she at least knows enough to know that it's not something you should say when you're trying to make a friend out of a former work... nemesis. Apparently, after years of not caring about the wasps that fly out of her mouth, she has forgotten what it means to have a filter. And carefully, she is constructing one that diverts all negative comments about Inna away from the exit (her mouth), towards the incinerator ('Inna-cinerator...'). Also, if she really thinks about it, is there even a point to being mean to Inna? To poking at whatever insecurities she could exploit? Honestly, it's starting to feel like a waste of time; a waste of her effort and if there is one thing Liora Trihn hates, it's being wasteful with her precious, precious braincells.

To a certain degree, the self-deprecating part of herself (the one she can usually direct outwards towards unassuming bystanders and work annoyances), is convinced that it's pathetic Inna barely has to try to make her feel... Not bad for being herself? That it takes just a smile or just a little bit of encouragement to pump a dose of endorphins into her system... Even after she falls completely on her face; it's weird not being laughed at or scolded for imperfection. On the one hand, it does feel good; yet, on the other hand, she doesn't like the idea that another person can be responsible for these good feelings. That is threatening to her, which is confusing because shouldn't positive feelings leave her feeling stronger and not more vulnerable? So why does she feel like retreating back behind those castle walls?

But before she can even wander off with that thought, Inna has her close her eyes (she doesn't peak, rest assured). When she opens them again not only is there a summery smile on Inna's face, one that makes her cheeks burn, but she's holding out a daisy crown. That alone swipes the worries from her head (for now), because she's trying to figure out why her face feels so hot and why her heart feelings like it has just done at least six 360 degree turns in row. Even while shocked, she puts the crown on, then reaches for a daisy and plucks it from the grass (actually, she makes sure to grab one that doesn't look stepped on and isn't missing too many petals––something close to her image of perfect). When she comes up, she tucks it behind Inna's ear. "Well, as long as you understand the importance of PR––it's the difference between an international scandal and a brief mention on the news cycle. That’s what my mo––"

Before she can even go down that path, however (and thankfully), she spots a group of people bounding towards them behind the blonde. Her brows stitch together and soon, none other than Alessia comes into view, leading said group of people. As they get closer, they bring a distinct smell of destruction and death––or, really it isn't a smell, it's more of an energy wafting off their bodies and it smacks Liora around like an emotional riptide. Still, she appears unaffected and crosses her arms over her chest and pops a hip out to the side, entire posture changing in a blink.

“Jesus fucking Christ, how the fuck did you find us? And what’s with the entourage? Are you raising a fucking army now that you’re retired from human sacrifice?” She snaps, returning to her usual unimpressed annoyance that she is now reserving for anyone other than Inna.

“I followed your scent,” Alessia chirps, waving along the mob. “And no, and not human. I told you two that you need to stop Remus and it seems you are enjoying an Italian vacation instead. Well anyway, I found this group running away from flames and carnage and I think that was really quite lucky, because I told them I know exactly who can help and who can even restore their lost homes––you know the ones their families have been living in for centuries."

So Alessia is going to be the one to ruin their fun as opposed to one of them tripping over her words too hard? Well, Liora does prefer this outcome; if only because it spares her the title of Ultimate Bitch, Ruiner of Good Times and, currently, she would prefer to hold onto the princess title for a little while longer. So while she is glad that she isn't the reason for this all ending, it is fucking annoying that Alessia thinks she can just call upon them like fucking errand dogs! Prophecies and apparent past lives aside, she isn't exactly qualified for this saving the world shit! Declan proved that to her earlier with that kindergarten lesson where she could barely flex her creativity in any meaningful way.

"Yeah, right... Like that's going to happen," she says looking over to the blonde briefly. "We're not whoever you fucking think we are and I'm tired of this fucking reality where we got randomly selected to be the next fucking Frodo Baggins––could you step off?"

Somehow, Alessia ignores all of that and just stands defiantly, almost toe to toe with Liora and fires back, "So you want Chett to win?"

 

[Syntra]

Had someone decided to dedicate time and resources to figuring out how Inna's brain worked, they likely would have found out that about 80% of its computing power was reserved for coming up with various excuses-- and, lately, those excuses had mostly revolved around feelings re: a certain colleague of hers. Now, though? It seemed that her brain just shut down entirely, because the blonde didn't even try to deny any of this. (Yeah, yeah, she was having butterflies in her stomach. So fucking what, though? Like, was that really what you were going to focus on? In this shit world, there were also war criminals who kept escaping justice, door-to-door salesmen who didn't understand the word 'no', and people who believed vaccines were just a precursor to governmental mind control. What she meant to say was, find some better cause to fight against! Her feeling kinda sorta enamored with Liora was normal and healthy, and it also generated this pleasant sense of warmth in her chest. In conclusion, fuck off, morality police! Enemies-to-lovers plotlines were incredibly valid, and Inna was living in one now. Nothing could possibly stop her!)

...well, nothing but the consequences of her (in)actions, it seemed, and maybe also the highest ranking officer of the morality police, Alessia. (Siiiiigh. Like, did she have a radar or something? Because destroying a scene this cute couldn't have been an accident-- no, Inna was convinced her sneaky ass must have fucking planned it. Doubtlessly, she had been hiding behind some tree like... like a particularly vicious squirrel, and waiting for her opportunity to strike! ...and, just so you know, underestimating squirrels did not pay off. Have you ever seen the fucking teeth? It was all fun and games till someone lost an eye!) "A scent?" Inna raised her eyebrow. "What is this, are you cosplaying a dog now? Do I have to get a fucking restraining order, Alessia? Because I will, even if I have to forge it with my own goddamn hands!" Not that Inna had any faith in their judicial system, mind you, but it was the matter of principle. As in, if the bitch thought she could just casually sniff her and not face any consequences for it, then she was sorely mistaken! Just, no. Caveman problems required caveman solutions, you see? In that case, playing whack-a-mole with her fucking head was entirely justifiable according to the Geneva convention, the blonde was sure.

"No, not really. I mean, I'd prefer it if he crawled into some fucking hole and died, but he probably won't do that, will he? Which is what life is about, I guess! You never get what you truly want, or some shit. Refer to a motivational quote of your liking for more empty wisdom, because Inna Orlovskaya is out. C'mon, princess," she turned to Liora, "let's get the hell out of here. I hate moaning as a soundtrack to whatever I'm doing." ...unless it was, uh, moaning of a particular kind, but people whining about their homes being burnt to a crisp did not belong to that category. Like, not her taste, bro! (Besides, now that she kinda had Liora, Inna didn't really have to concoct pointless fantasies about strangers-- that would be like gorging herself on stale bread when there was a delicious hamburger within her reach. A delicious hamburger that could kiss pretty well, in her experience!)

"Inna," Alessia said, her voice cracking like a whip. "You can't mean this seriously. Just look at these people!" she made a grand, sweeping gesture with her hand. (In the background, a brat in her early teens started crying-- which, nice try, kid. Emotional blackmail didn't work if the one you were blackmailing didn't do emotions in the first place! ...and also, also, when she had cried, nobody had helped her, either. If anything, the bastards had used that opportunity to stomp on her fucking face, so, like, the kid should become her own hero! Blah blah blah, something about teaching a man how to fish. Weren't all the YA protagonists roughly her age, anyway? Since fate of the world resting on the shoulders of some dumbfuck kid made perfect sense, as everyone knew! ...not that Inna was about to complain, of course. Talking toilets could be the humanity's new saviors for all she cared-- as long as nobody demanded her involvement, really.) "With your powers, you've also been given a great responsibility. You can't just abandon it!"

In response to that, however, Inna's smile only widened. "Yeah? 'Cause I kinda happen to be an expert at dodging my responsibilities. Just watch me as I remove myself from this toxic clusterfuck! Besides, it's not like anyone fucking asked me. You think I wanted to be your Harry Potter? Well, I certainly didn't!"

Alessia gave her a glare that... almost looked disappointed? Cute, really, that she thought Inna might care. "I know you're hurt, Ivy, but taking it out on the rest of the word won't heal you. I thought you understood that by now. Plus, you happen to like the world, don't you? I can guarantee that will no longer be true if you let Chett transform it to his liking. Rome is just the start. Millions will die, and their blood will be on your hands."

"Uhh... I'm pretty sure it won't be?" Inna tilted her head aside, her expression unimpressed. "Sounds like manipulative bullshit to me. I mean, I am not forcing Chett to murder these fuckers at gunpoint, am I? Unless I'm sleepwalking and doing some wild shit in the process, which seems pretty fucking unlikely. So, not my fault. Audieu, bitch!" Inna turned her attention back to Liora then, and her smile gained its old sweet quality. "Wanna go sightseeing, princess? I bet I can find a way to make boring old statues fun."

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

Liora is honestly done with the idea that they have some grand responsibility to save the world. Also, assuming that they aren’t the only magic users out there, she is curious why it has to be them to save the world? (And clearly they aren't the only fucking magic users if their former boss, of all people, is also a fucking grand wizard; ugh, if only he had the decency to grow a big white beard to cover his ugly face!) So if her hypothesis checks out, then clearly someone else can do the job. Someone who has actually practiced magic their whole life and not someone who suffered through one questionable trial magic lesson (at best). In her opinion, it seems irresponsible of the world to choose two people who clearly do not fit the job descriptions. AND who obviously did not apply for the positions in the first place.

Her arms cross tightly over her chest, she groans, and she rolls her eye with enough exaggeration that she may have increased the speed of Earth's rotation in the process. "Honestly, a few hours ago I would have disagreed with Inna on principle, but she has, like, a major fucking point. If this is our responsibility, I think it would be a lot more obvious––I'm pretty sure that dusty old tome sneezed on the wrong fucking people because this magic shit is not intuitive and, no offense," she looks at Inna, "but we suck at it."

Alessia actually gives Liora something of a surprised look, almost defeated too. “Really, Vie?" The tone is pointed and she kind of knows why it feels like it's connected to the tip of a knife in Ivy's stomach. Like this is somehow her fault. (And she's slowly starting to realize that it is, but it's nice to ignore this for a tiny bit longer... Like, does she have to be Vie too? Does she have to take on that woman's responsibilities? Being just Liora was a pain on its own already.) "You're the responsible one. Or you were supposed to be," she finishes, sparing them both of the reality everyone else seems to already know and Liora is still making sense of (she doesn't know what Inna knows and honestly? She doesn't plan on asking).

The people behind Alessia moan and cry and whimper and Liora... She would help them if she could, but she knows she can't. She knows that she's useless in this fight. It's not worth trying––the kraken had been a close enough call as it is. For Christ's sake, they got swallowed by the damn thing! (Ignore the part where Liora dragged Inna into that one.) Earlier, she's pretty sure Remus would have eaten them too had they not ran at Inna’s suggestion––Alessia had even been there for that! So who the fuck does she think she is telling them that they can? Is this some cruel joke sent to prove she's a worm that will never be a butterfly? Well, she already knows that. "And I think it's responsible to want to stay fucking alive. In fact, I prefer that we both stay alive so you can turn that guilt trip around and fuck off, because, honestly, yeah I think an Italian fucking vacation sounds kind of nice right now."

Honestly, she likes that she and Inna are on the same page for once––and not even begrudgingly like the last few days. She truly agrees with the blonde. Plus, when she flashes that sweet smile of hers? It's pretty easy to forget that world is possibly ending and they're somehow responsible for saving it. "Yeah, okay," she says, pulling them both away from Alessia and leaving her with the increasingly distressed mob (which, Liora is a bitch older sister––ignoring nuisances is almost what she has been born to do).

"It's honestly fucking stupid that we got sucked into this, but you know," she shrugs, "Magic powers aren't the worst thing in the world. Do you think we can use them to mess with the statues?" The look in her eye? Some could call it mischief––perhaps she's feeding off of Inna's energy or maybe rebelling against Declan's suggestion that she's rigid, but it's unmistakable that she is curious. "It could be good practice, too," she adds, to keep it somewhat practical.

 

[Syntra]

Inna nodded and nodded and nodded-- so often, in fact, that she started to resemble one of those toy dogs dumbasses regularly bought to decorate their cars with. (...which, huh. Who would have thought that Liora out of all people would reduce her to this state? Like, what kind of game-breaking bug was that? Had the god decided the universe sucked and thus it needed to go up in flames in the most spectacular manner, or something? Because that was exactly what an Inna + Liora alliance would result in! A crippling inability to commit to a goal was pretty much the only obstacle that stood between Inna and world domination, and, uh, Liora could potentially act as antidote for that. Not that the blonde was whipped or anything, of course-- no, her brain was galaxy-sized, and it belonged to her and her only. Private property, bitches! Liora and other Liora-aligned individuals who would attempt to infiltrate it would find an electric fence there, and a 'keep out' sign, and maybe a bunch of attack dogs. Her defenses were fucking impenetrable, so like, good luck!) "Right. We don't have even have any credentials," Inna added, demonstrating just how much Liora wasn't influencing her. And the way she glanced at her, looking for approval? Why, yet another proof of her fierce, fierce independence! (Only those confident enough in their own abilities would dare to risk the criticism of others, right? It made sense, at least if you ignored what the phrase 'make sense" actually meant.) "What will you do when we inevitably fuck up, hmmm? You won't even be able to sue us for damages because we're broke. I mean, I don't have a fucking insurance against magical calamities! So, what I mean to say is: you need a professional, aka not me."

"You will regret this," Alessia warned. "This is why you returned-- your very calling. Rejecting it will only hurt you in the long run. It's not good for your souls, you know? Especially considering that you've already put them through the wringer."

"Blah, blah, blah," Inna rolled her eyes. (Like, who did she think she was? A middle aged wine mom with badly treated depression who tried to find some semblance of meaning in occult bullshit? Because, yeah, someone like that might buy into that whole 'souls' hogwash. As far as Inna was concerned, though? If you couldn't see it on an x-ray, it didn't fucking exist!) "Thanks for the warning, I guess. I'll keep you in my thoughts and prayers. Now, will you finally fuck off? Since, you know, desperation really isn't cute." After that, Alessia may as well have stopped existing to Inna, because ugh, Liora. Liora was there, with her shy smile and a newly found sense of irresponsibility, and both of those obviously required her full attention.

"Hm. I have no fucking idea, but you know what? Let's try, princess! I'm thinking a lot of those statues could use some, uh, modern touch. Like, all that white is so boring. Wouldn't this little guy look much better in pink?"

"No," Haenel said, "he certainly wouldn't. This is the cultural heritage of Rome we're talking about, Inna! We haven't guided you here so that you could fucking deface it."

"Yeah, yeah, that doesn't surprise me-- 'cause that would be fun, and you're like the fucking antithesis to fun. Also, whoa, mate!" Inna flinched, taking a few steps back. "Why the fuck are you here? Like, I can't believe I'm the one who is giving literally anyone an etiquette lesson, but when a girl ghosts you, it means she doesn't want to see you anymore. Not now, and not ever! Seriously, do all supernaturals have boundaries this fucking poor?" Because, so far, it seemed the blonde would spend the rest of her life getting new and new restraining orders!

This time, however, it was Haenel's turn to roll her eyes. "You can't ghost your goddamn mission, Inna. By the way, I am very disappointed in you, Liora. I thought at least one half of this disastrous pair wasn't totally hopeless, but apparently, my protege's dumbassery is infectious!"

"What! You take that back, bitch," Inna frowned, her lips forming a thin line. "Only I can insult Liora, and that's because I've fucking earned it. A second-rate Pokémon like you will never--"

"Oh, shut up," Haenel flicked her tail, and, uh. The world around them started shifting?It kind of resembled a drunken episode, but one that was unusually unpleasant-- something grabbed her by her fucking stomach, which didn't usually happen, and then it yanked her forward. (Everything slowed down, to a tempo that felt downright insufferable. Years passed behind her closed eyelids, whole fucking millennia, even, and then-- then, of course, they found themselves standing right in the middle of a blazing goddamn hell. Flames licked buildings, and the way everyone screamed at the top of their lungs? Not even earbuds would save you from that level of noise pollution, really. Great, just great!)

"Ugh. Why do I have the feeling like I know exactly where we are?"

As if wanting to answer that question, Remus flew over their heads, and set another non-descript house on fire. "Wow," Inna opened her mouth in wonder. "So, are we just going to ignore the fact that wolves shouldn't be able to fly? Seems like a fucking biological impossibility to me. The bastard's cheating!"

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

Liora, actually, is preparing an Art History lesson for Inna, because it may be helpful for her to know that the statues were painted at one point in time; and if they are going to give these statues a modern touch, it's important to have some context. However, before she can even wrap her mouth around the first syllable, Haenel appears (somehow) and interrupts before she can even start. While Liora had, at first, liked the fox, her unsolicited criticism of her choices does not resonate. 'Jesus fucking Christ––why can't I catch a goddamn break?!' Like, earlier she had been advised to stop thinking by her teacher and now, her substitute (because where the fuck is Declan?) is telling her that she needs to be responsible again? Also the implication that they are both disasters is not lost on her either and does nothing to boost her confidence for the task at hand. (The task she very much did not ask to be a part of...)

Before she can even whip her tongue to defend herself, Inna does it for her. It's so unexpected that her eyes go wide and she tilts her head to the side, completely stunned. It's not even because they've never defended each other before, but that no one has defended her before; not that there has ever been reason for someone to defend Liora, she does make that pretty impossible. On top of that, she especially hasn't given Inna that many reasons to defend her. The kindness sits in her stomach funny and not like spoiled food per se... Just funny in a way she doesn't know how to describe. Where she would usually be suspicious as to why the blonde is being nice to her, she figures that maybe this is part of that wave of positivity they're riding from earlier and accepts it.

But whatever thanks she may have offered the blonde is lost when they are teleported to their next assignment. It's an uncomfortable transition and she may have somehow grabbed Inna's hand somewhere in the process for comfort. And it's a good thing she had, because the scene they step into? Yeah, this does look like a problem. She still doesn't understand how it is their problem (again, this seems like a Vie and Ivy problem that they somehow inherited through soul-cycle roulette). The smell of smoke immediately clogs her lungs, stings her eyes, and the screams are enough to disorient her. Having Inna's hand in her own is the one thing she can ground herself in––the one thing she has to confirm that this is unfortunately real. Somehow the blonde is an anchor point for her now. As she collects herself, she squeezes her hand then lets go just as Remus flies overhead.

"Oh, for FUCK'S sake!" she says through gritted teeth. Well, they're here now. It doesn't seem like running away is going to help. It doesn't seem like they're even allowed to runaway. But at least this time they have their magic, right? Well, Liora still thinks hers is useless but Inna can control flames, right? That thought gives her an idea and she looks at her counterpart, "Do you think... Do you think that you can control the size of the flames? That might be a good place to start."

Not even a second after making that suggestion, a rush of people stampede past them and––wait? Is that Declan? Yeah, Declan appears to be leading the stampede and she also has lost her golden glow and now appears to be made entirely of golden sunshine. Too bright to really stare at, but an easy focal point for the crowd being led through the thick black smoke. She bellows something in Italian at the mob, probably telling the people to flee, before landing in front of the women and returning to her softer glow. "Hoowdy! You made it!" Somehow, she is not affected by the carnage or the flames; she does not even appear scared of the giant flying wolf either. "I got most of the citizens out of the city––so you two don't have to worry about doing any civ damage. You ready?"

Liora's face clearly reads as 'NO!' but Declan is a selective expression-reader, so she ignores that, transforms herself back into a sword, and pops herself right into Liora's hand. This time, when she speaks, she's in Liora's head (which, just great, that's exactly what she wants). 'So, Vie, sweetie, what's the plan? Rome is already a burial ground itself so the spiritual energy should be plenty to draw on. Can you feel it?'

At first, she doesn't know what Declan is talking about––maybe resistant and still angry that she is forced here against will, but eventually she does start to notice thin tendrils of energy lifting from the ground like a quite smoke. When she looks down she notices that more are pooling around her specifically and even drawing up towards Declan. It’s oddly comforting and jolts something in her.

'Okay, yeah, I see it,' she thinks.

'Good, remember our lesson earlier?' The sword owl then sends a flood of abstract images through her head––it's kind of like a downloadable instructions manual on her abilities (this would have been helpful yesterday), but it's not complete or particularly explanatory. It only gives her enough to understand why exactly Declan had her flexing her creativity.

She looks over at Inna, "Okay, I'm going to try something... It might not fucking work..." The last part is said quietly and it's an odd thing for her to admit in the first place, but for some reason she doesn't exactly mind the blonde knowing this––plus, she reasons, this will help her save face later if she fails. Though she has her doubts, Declan's confidence in her is hard to ignore with the sword actually in her hand and telling her to specifically ignore Haenel's earlier comment (that she may or may not have pinned to the wall of criticism she reviews at night). So with a deep breath and a cheetah heart, she begins the spell. Similar to when she had pulled a curtain of spirits to protect Inna from the kraken, she drags the tip of her sword on the ground, gathering energy from the spirits below. As the souls collects into the sword, she imagines a new shape in her head and brings it to life in front of them by arcing her sword upwards and then back down.

The guardian that shoots out of her sword to protect them? It's an elephant-sized worm and, at Declan's suggestion, she also gave it butterfly wings. (Kindly remember that Liora is still working on creativity.) Rest assured, the worm does prove useful in that the next time Remus bounds back towards them, the creature screams and blasts the wolf into the Coliseum. Nothing important.

She turns to Inna, cheeks bright red, and simply requests, "Please don't fucking say anything..."

 

[Syntra]

"Umm... I mean, I guess I could try? The sky is the limit, or something. All the empty motivational quotes say so, at least." The only thing Inna was truly risking here was looking like a goddamn clown, and honestly? That ship had sailed already. Like, the speed with which it had disappeared behind the horizon had been so fucking impressive it had probably ended up somewhere in the stratosphere! "Alright. Alright, why the hell not!" she continued, visibly switching gears. (Mind over matter, right? And also, also, 'fake it till you make it' was a valid advice for reaching pretty much any goal a person could conceivably come up with. If success was an engine, then confidence was fuel, baby! ...so, sometimes, you just had to pour fucking cooking oil into the mechanism and hope for the best. Petroleum didn't grow on the trees!) "Prepare to witness yet another triumph of Inna Motherfucking Orlovskaya," the blonde pointed her index finger at Remus, solely because it looked really fucking cool. (It had this decisive air to it, you know? And in combination with the blazing inferno that was going on in the background, Inna resembled a superhero from one of those cringey movie posters! ...a superhero with an infinitely better fashion sense, though. Like, in which universe was wearing your fucking panties over your trousers seen as sexy? Was this some weirdass tactic for... drawing the attention of the villain to your crotch? Actually, you know what? Inna wasn't fucking thinking about what that implied. The few brain cells she still had were precious to her, and the blonde wasn't going to murder them like this!) "You're going down, bitch." Cool, cool, so that had been established-- every fucking journey began with knowing your destination, didn't it? Now, Inna just had to figure out how to actually get there!

"You have no fucking idea what you are doing, do you?" Haenel asked, which, yeah, it was safe to say that her voice was swiftly becoming Inna's least favorite sound in the entire goddamn universe. (Including the alarm clock and various 'game over' tunes, actually! So, good job, Haenel, for winning The Biggest Thorn in Inna's Ass Trophy. The competition had been great, but you had fought bravely, and now you got to observe her fucking organs from up-close!)

"I'm not gonna listen to that criticism from a trainwreck like you," Inna huffed. "Check your hypocrisy score, because it's over 9000!"

"What? What do you mean?" Haenel flicked her tail indignantly.

"Well," she shrugged, "you chose me as your wielder, didn't you? So, I'd say it is actually you who has no fucking idea what she's doing. I mean, trusting me when you could have gone for literally anyone else? That points to a lack of foresight that is pretty fucking staggering, pal."

"...you've got a point," Haenel admitted, "though it's more complicated than that. Trust me, if I could, I would have chosen someone else. But anyway! I'm actually here to help, dummy. Remember the little self-control exercise we did?"

"...you mean the one in which you fucking set me on fire?" Inna asked, her hands balling into fists automatically. "Kinda hard to forget about that one!"

"Good, because that was the entire point. Calming those fires should be easy enough for you, if you link yourself to them spiritually and then calm the fuck down." Ugh! What was up with Haenel and unreasonable requests like this, anyway? This was like-- like telling a starving guy to stop being hungry, or informing a cancer patient that, duh, everything would be fine if they only talked the tumor into not growing. Really insightful information, pal! Might as well found a fucking financial consultation agency and be like: 'Well, have you tried not being poor?' Still, Inna had a feeling Haenel would offer her very little sympathy if she complained, so try she did.

Okay, okay. Some mythological fucker is flying around and setting things on fire, and that is obviously just fucking peachy! I am calm. I am calm. I am SO GODDAMN CALM THAT DALAILAMA HIMSELF WOULD SLIT MY THROAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT OUT OF SHEER JEALOUSY! ...fine, so this, uh, wasn't working? If anything, it seemed that the flames fucking grew, encouraged by Inna's inner fire. Uh oh.

"Not like this, Jesus fucking Christ!" Haenel wailed. "Imagine something nice. Do you have no coping strategies at all, girl?" Normally, Inna would have argued against this filthy accusation, but considering that the flames swallowed Pantheon within seconds? Alright, alright, time for a different approach!

...something nice, huh. What about that one time she had unexpectedly found twenty Euros in her pocket, then? Nuh uh, didn't work. Receiving her father's obituary? Inna had laughed for days then, but apparently, that memory just wasn't fancy enough for the dumbass magical energies coursing through her veins. Like??? What was she supposed to do here, go on an impromptu Disneyland trip to create some certified Happy MomentsTM? The bougie conspiracy against the working class truly permeated every inch of the society, even the magical parts! It was hardly Inna's fault that happiness was in short supply unless you fucking paid for it, and-- um. Liora. Suddenly, a series of images flashed through her mind-- Liora in that café, looking at her as if she wasn't something gross that had gotten stuck to her shoe. Liora caressing her hair. Liora wearing her flower crown, smiling at her in a way that made her heart beat just a little bit faster. Those did classify as happy memories, right?

And apparently, magic agreed with that, because the fires were going out one by one. Yay! Sure, sure, Rome still mostly looked like a smoking ruin, but what could a girl do, right? Rewinding time wasn't a part of her skillset, and besides, most of those buildings had been terribly old, anyway. (Like, come up with something new, bitches! They couldn't just live off their old glory forever.) Meanwhile, Liora continued to work on the destruction of the city via... demolishing it with a giant worm? Wow, the girl certainly deserved some extra points for originality!

"What do you mean, 'don't say anything'? I'm sure as hell going to say something, because that was fucking awesome," Inna looked at her partner, starry-eyed. "You could do this the whole time? I mean, yeah, fire is cool and everything, but man, this is some Godzilla-level shit. Ten out of fucking ten." ...now the blonde kinda felt bad about her own performance, though, because if Liora could be rated at ten out of ten? She barely earned a three out of ten score. Which, not fucking fair! If the Remus bastard actually had the decency to land somewhere in her firing range, Inna could actually contribute, but-- huh. Firing range? Intredasting.

"Liora," she turned to the other woman, squeezing her hand in the process. "I have a... a plan." Yes, Inna herself couldn't believe this word was leaving her lips, but it happened! Quick, someone bust out some fucking confetti. "How well can you control your little friend here? Because, uh, I could ride it, if you ensure it won't fucking crush me to death. That way, I could feed Remus some quality fireballs! Since I won't reach him from there."

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉
​

"––Ten out of fucking ten."​

Immediately, all of her embarrassment and anxiety over creating a butterfly-worm guardian melt away; all because Inna scored it so highly and she hadn't realized how fearful she had been of her taunting until the blonde lifts that weight from her shoulders. The revelation shocks her––even if she has maybe, possibly, always thought that Inna is cool... which could mean that then, maybe, possibly if she accepts that, it's reasonable enough for her to believe that's why the score matters so much. It's not about Inna's approval––it's about a cool person's approval. She's certain. At the same time, while the review is perfect, she is simultaneously upset that she hadn't thought to create something closer to God-fucking-zilla. 'Fuck! Why didn't I think of that?!' (Probably because of her fixed belief that Declan is expecting something original over something that is just plain creative. Inna's comment does, however, make her wonder if she is allowed to create things that technically already exist. 'What if it's plagiarism?')

(Declan does answer this concern for her and lets her know that, yes, she can create whatever she wants and there is no need to file any paperwork with the existing copyright bodies... or however that works.)

"I honestly didn't know I could do that," she admits, looking away from Inna. She is still shy about the useful giant worm that is protecting them–– even currently, while Remus continues to try and attack them in the background. "The wings were Declan's idea," she adds, as if to discredit the accomplishment. ('Liora! Stop being so mean to yourself. Bad pupil! Bad! Zero stars!' Declan chastises.) "But making the worm giant... that was me, because obviously a regular size worm wouldn't be that helpful," she says, rambling in that same nervous way as before. "Declan said I had to name her too––so I chose Brutus." (She is absolutely trying to compensate for making a giant butterfly-worm that she still doesn't think is that cool––also, no, the name is not ironic at all.)

When Inna says that she has a plan, Liora looks at her with something of surprise in her eye. (There's also something else lingering there that Liora cannot place. Attraction, perhaps?) Really, after Inna said the word plan she could have been talking about enacting some evil plot to destroy the world and Liora would have agreed. For some reason. Probably because she trusts (?) the blonde a lot more now. And that trust allows her to agree without question to the plan––because she doesn't think it's terrible; dangerous, sure, but it's no different than these past few days. (It's not that she's getting numb to the threats coming their way, it's just that she hasn't processed what she feels and she may be outright refusing to confront the stress. That won't backfire at all). "Brutus won't hurt either of us. I made her with the purpose to protect you and me," she says matter of factly, because thinking about Inna's safety is automatic. "She'll do whatever I say, too," she's pretty sure, "Just try to hold on––I've never done this before." Which is to say she isn't sure how to drive a worm.

'Okay, Liora,' Declan starts, 'you can do this! Remember when you controlled those sailors? Well, the principle is almost the same and yet entirely different. You really have to learn by trying.' As if to cover for the fact that her advice is entirely unhelpful, the typical cheer in her voice is increased and Liora sees right through it. Sometimes, Liora thinks, the swords should have stayed swords if they are going to be fucking useless––she would even settle for them just shutting the fuck up. 'Excuse you, missy! That is very hurtful––I have feelings! But I see your point and you sometimes just have to trust the process, Vie-ora (do you see what I did that? I combin––'

She ignores her instructor's background commentary as it only gets more unhelpful the longer she fills her head with air. While she doesn't know exactly what she is doing, thanks to Declan, and that terrifies her, when she looks over at Inna a sort of calm passes through her. If only because she knows the blonde isn't scared, or doesn't seem scared and maybe it inspires some bravery in herself. This doesn't change that she doesn't know what she is doing, but she also remembers that Inna hardly ever knows what she's doing and if it's worked for her so far, then maybe she is onto something. Besides, Liora is starting to appreciate her reckless and thoughtless behavior––if only because she is starting to see the value in having a freer mind. If a freer mind will allow her to think of Godzilla-like creations to conjure over some giant fucking butterfly-worm, then she'll give in to the whole turning off her brain strategy. But for now, Brutus will have to satisfy. So with a deep breath, in true Liora fashion, she sticks out her hand and calls to the worm.

She waits.

Nothing happens.

Her brows knit together and frustration builds in her belly, threatening to somehow choke her, but she doesn't give up––Inna is counting on her. (Inna's plan is counting her and who knows when she'll procure another.) With her hand still raised, she closes her eyes and concentrates, feeling the bond between herself and her creation. "Brutus," she calls, her voice like a whisper that echoes through the city. This time, when Brutus hears her name, she responds; she finishes whipping Remus back into the Trevi Fountain (bummer, Liora actually liked that feature) and flies, with a surprising amount of grace, back to her creator. When the butterfly-worm lands, Liora places her palm at the center of the worm's head (?) and as she syncs herself with the spirit creation, her eyes begin to glow as does her palm. Once finished, Brutus approaches Inna and waits for her to mount.

"You ready?" Though her tone is steady, part of her does worry. Not about failing this mission, but the possibility of Inna getting hurt. It might show in eyes, but she tries to keep the rest of her face neutral––she doesn't want Inna to know her concern. It won't help either of them, so she pushes those feelings into the closet and shuts the door. No need to get distracted when distraction really could mean her partner getting injured––which would mean kissing her, some foreign part of her thinks. 'Okay, weird––focus, Liora! Focus––she's counting on you.'

 

[Syntra]

"For sure," Inna nodded. "Like, yeah, regular worms are fine and dandy when you need to, uhhh... catch fish or some shit, I guess, but probably not when hunting mythological fuckers? Unless you created many of them and had them try to eat him, though I'm not sure whether these things are omnivorous. Ten pounds says not. But, hmmm, wait! Rewriting fucking DNA is no biggie to you, so you could probably make them omnivorous, I think. Just imagine it: the great Remus, eaten by worms. What a sad ending that would be! Straight out of some Greek tragedy, if they were creative enough to use man-eating insects. Which, spoiler alert, they fucking weren't! Nah, instead they just wrote like nine thousand stories about Zeus hooking up with random mortals." ...was she going on wild tangents? Well, maybe, but Liora had started it! Besides, if her partner devolved into goofiness, Inna felt it her duty to follow her there. Like, what was she supposed to do? Behave like a reasonable individual, with job prospects and shit? Never! Over her dead fucking body. Silliness was their last hope in this dumbass world, and they could pry it away from her cold, dead fingers. "But," the blonde added quickly, "a giant worm is pretty fucking cool as well. Not dissing your choices here-- Brutus is better for, like, dramatic entrances and such. Just offering more options here! 'Cause diversity of thought is important. I think? Unless those thoughts are shit, of course." (...you know, like this entire fucking debacle? It seemed that some worms had found a new home in Inna's brain, actually-- worms that had shat all over it, which was why shit was also coming out of her mouth as now! (Which was totally how these things worked, Inna was sure. Watch out, neurologists, since a new sheriff was in town!)

"...anyway," Inna cleared her throat awkwardly, "yeah, yeah. I was fucking born ready! Back in kindergarten, I drew myself destroying a city while riding a dinosaur when the teacher asked us to portray our future careers. This feels close enough. I mean, this could theoretically be considered CV-worthy? If you squint." Nooo, it wasn't like the whole credentials talk was getting into her head! Not a chance-- she still thought that people who believed in these things unironically were the Flat Earthers of this generation, and that the history would remember them as such. Because, duh, of course it would! (As a rule, Inna Orlovskaya didn't change her opinions. And really, why the fuck should she? Every single thought that had ever hatched in her head was pure, unadulterated truth, and so hippie bullshit such as 'accepting others' perspectives' would be an obvious downgrade. Like, would you go for fucking fast food if you dined in a five star restaurant every day? No? Well, the same goddamn principle applied here! ...and as for why she was spouting this nonsense, then? To, uh, make Liora feel better! Since, in the past few hours, this task had ascended quite dramatically in her personal... hmmm. Could you call it a 'lader of priorities' when there were like, three items and one of those was 'breathing'? Further research was needed, clearly.)

"Cool, cool. I'm off, then." (Inexplicably, some part of her wanted to kiss Liora goodbye, but haha, right? That would be weird, and Inna Orlovskaya wasn't weird. Smart, yes, and mind-blowingly pretty, but not weird! People who bought fucking anime figures were weird, and the blonde had only done that once in her life because her waifu was just that awesome. So, uhhh, this was probably just some half-forgotten instinct? You know, from the time she had been Ivy and dreamed of kissing Vie and-- whoa, whoa, what the fuck.)

Deciding this was enough bullshit introspection for one day, Inna climbed on Brutus. (The worm lowered her head obediently, kinda like in those sappy Disney movies about the beautiful bond between a human and her... mythological murder machine, she guessed. A good girl!) "Alright, friend. See that ugly, biology-defying fuck? Yeah, the wolfy demon right there. Bring me to him!" Upon which Brutus straightened once again, and, damn. Even Inna had to admit the view was scenic as fuck, with all those old buildings and devastation and new fires Remus kept lighting! Very apocalyptic.

"Okay, okay, so, go closer and-- hey, bitch, don't you understand when you are not fucking wanted?" Inna rolled her eyes when Haenel, in her sword form, teleported herself into her hand. Way to disrespect her goddamn boundaries!

'Don't be childish, Inna,' Haenel's voice resonated in her head, somehow sounding even more annoying than before. 'I'm here to amplify your fucking powers. Which, by the way, is something you should be thanking me for!'

...amplify her powers? How, by setting her on fire again if she didn't kill Remus fast enough? 'Cause that kinda seemed to be her modus operandi, and-- yeah, no. Inna Fucking Orlovskaya wouldn't let anyone roleplay out their Jean D'Arc fantasies with her, much less this Pokémon-looking fucker! And so she did what she did the best-- namely, disregarding consequences. Now, how did this lovely trait manifest itself this time? The blonde, uh, may have dropped Haenel.

"Find someone else to torture!" Inna blew the sword a kiss. "Because anyone who would tolerate your fuckery deserves exactly that. Peace out, dumbass!" Brutus, somehow attuned to her emotions, waited for nothing and charged forward. (Which, wow! This would make for a great heavy metal album cover, Inna was sure-- her, in all her Inna-glory, with wind in her hair, riding a... worm... and concocting a fire storm in her hand. Could it even get more awesome? Like, a slightly more awesomeness than this and the universe would fucking collapse on itself!) "Wooohoo!" Inna raised her fist into the air when the flames licked Remus's fur, and the bastard howled in pain. "I told you you were going down. A life hack: never cross Inna Orlovskaya, bitch." Hahahaha!!! Oh, how easy this was! Pathetically easy, even, and she didn't even need that stick-in-the-ass killjoy Haenel to prevail. Songs would be written about her, and Liora would definitely reward her with a kiss, and... uh oh. Was Remus actually shedding his skin?

"Hey!" Inna furrowed her brow. "Not fair, motherfucker. Mammals can't do this shit! You cannot have your cake and eat it, too." Just, was spitting in the face of Mother Nature his sole goal?! ...it wasn't, as it turned out, because Remus proceeded to crash into Brutus with all the strength of a nuclear warhead. The worm, of course, toughed it out. Inna, though? The impact, uh, kinda sent her flying-- to the ground, mostly because she respected certain biological truths. You know, like not having wings!

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉
​

'Why.' From below, Liora has been following Brutus and Inna as close as she can in case anything happens to Inna and also to make sure that Brutus holds her form. And when she sees her partner drop her sword something tells her it's not because Inna has butterfingers––Declan seems to be a little shocked as well (or maybe she is just reflecting back what Liora is already feeling). There's a flare of anger burning in chest and while she is used to being upset with Inna, this time feels different. There's another complex layer on top of that, or maybe underneath, and she cannot figure out what exactly it is. Unfortunately, or fortunately, there isn't time for her to do some introspection and self-therapy to figure it out. Not while her idiot of a partner is dedicated to throwing caution to the wind and giving Liora a heart attack.

With her brows turned downward into a V, she continues to chase after the worm, retrieving Haenel in the process, while also simultaneously avoiding rubble and other obstacles. (Just Capricorn things.) While the aerial fight happen in the sky is quite a sight––Inna on the back of her creation, creating a giant firestorm in her hand, probably flashing her brazen smile––she doesn't find that much enjoyment in it as she pictures the blonde getting hurt.

Hmm, and it seems those fears are about to be realized.

Remus collides with Brutus once more and while Liora is able to keep the worm intact, the blonde goes flying. "Inna!" She cries out, immediately changing the direction she's running in to follow her partner's trajectory. Though she has the half thought to send Brutus over to break her fall, she knows the worm won't make it time and this only inspires a slurry of worry. 'C'mon, c'mon––think of fucking something, Liora!' An idea comes to her, one she isn't sure of, but being unsure seems to be her new state of being so there is no point in trying to find her footing. She also knows that if she doesn't act, Inna could get seriously injured or die and she cannot let that happen again! Not when she's supposed to be protecting her! (And the blonde is certainly not making this an easy task.)

There is no time for her to even ask Declan for another magic lesson or even consult with the sword on whether or not she can do this. Liora, for the first time in her life, probably, acts without thinking. As she continues making strides forward she slices her sword through the air, fixing her energy on the point where Inna will land, and opens a portal right before her. The portal doesn't have an end point yet and instead provides her a series of options where she can land. (As it turns out, the entire world, and some world's she doesn't even think are from Earth, appear as options in front of her.) She homes in on the image of the blonde's flight path and once she's found that, she slices the air again to create the exit point.

It's not graceful, but as soon as she steps onto the other side of the portal, she does break Inna's fall. With her own body and that elicits a grunt from her throat as the impact forces them to slide back into the ground, kicking up dust all around them. The swords fall out of her hands, somewhere out of reach but she isn't too concerned about that at the moment. Her arms immediately wrap tightly around Inna, she coughs a bit but seems to ignore a lot of what is happening around them and to her while she attends to the other. Her eyes are wild with worry as she looks over her, searching for injuries. "What––What the fuck were you thinking? Why did you drop Haenel?" Easily, judgment could have soaked her questions, but really it's not even that. It's worry. It's concern. And yes, it is angry too, but it is not condescending and that probably stands out the most.

"That was fucking stupid, Inna! Y-you could have got fucking killed! Or injured or, or––" A thousand terrible things race through her head and as upset as she is, she only clings to her tighter. Like that can protect her. "I don't know, but that was fucking... scary."

 

[Syntra]

Inna had never really thought she'd die in a bed, surrounded by grandchildren. Mostly because she didn't fucking want them, you know? On a conceptual level, leaving behind some sort of legacy seemed nice, but children were work. Work she would have to do, and that just didn't sit well with her moral code. Like, had she wanted to put some actual effort into literally anything, Inna would have gotten a degree in Bootlicking and become one of the 'Human Resources,' which didn't sound dystopian at all! Nah, mate. A bullet in her head was much more preferable, and that was roughly how Inna expected her life to end. That, or in some exciting car chase, or leading a prison rebellion after she inevitably ended there. You know, all the mundane gangster things? That was before her life had turned into a fucking fantasy novel, though, and now she... found herself plummeting to the ground, falling off a giant worm after being hit by yet another mythological creature. ...well, it was still better than dying thanks to having a piss poor health insurance deal, she guessed? Like, Inna didn't even have the time to be angry. For that, everything felt too whoosh-y and the ground approached way too fast and it was, dunno, kinda unreal? (Once her fucking bones shattered, it would be very real, she assumed, but till then? Yeah, her brain couldn't process what was happening at the speed at which it was happening. Just, hahaha! Ceasing to exist in like five seconds? Fucking surreal! Surreal and hilarious, in the same way it was also hilarious to discover that your bank account had been bled dry to the point you could barely afford a pack of bubblegum. In this stupid society, that was a kind of death, too!)

...death, huh. Wow. She really was going to die here, wasn't she? Without ever telling Liora that she didn't suck as much as she had previously thought, and without kissing those stupidly kissable lips outside of medical emergencies, and without-- without experiencing so, so many things. (...without letting her know that, hey, maybe this meant more to her than she was willing to admit. The scale scared her, you see? Like, yeah, of course Inna had been into people before! Only severe maladjusts hadn't, and she was perfectly fucking normal, thank you very much. So normal, in fact, that she should get to dictate the standards for normalcy, not this clown-ass world. But, anyway. Previously, those interests had been sort of passing-- kinda like seeing a new trailer for a movie, thinking that, yeah, this might be fun, watching it and then never thinking of it again. Liora, though. Fucking Liora, who was--)

--breaking her fall? Damn. (Was the blonde going to deny that her breath hitched? No, the fuck she wasn't! There were certain limits to the whole 'eternally unimpressed' shtick, and landing right in the arms of a smoking hot babe exceeded them so dramatically it wasn't even funny. And to hear that the aforementioned smoking hot babe was afraid for her? Wow, wow, wow! Nobody was afraid for Inna. Quite a lot of people was afraid of her, she was sure, or of the fact she just wouldn't die fast enough, but this-- this was an unexplored territory. Her personal fucking Atlantis, or something, and, ummm. As much as she usually hated this sappy bullshit, the blonde didn't really mind charting it? If... if it was with Liora, that was.) Unthinking, she wrapped her arms around her neck-- a princess and her knight in shining armor, ladies and gentlemen! A display that was utterly fucking ridiculous, it must have been, but Inna needed that little oasis of safety. (Needed her her, really. Her arms were so warm and strong, and knowing that they shielded her from all this bullshit willingly? That, uh, felt nice-- kinda like being wrapped in her favorite blanket, really, but about hundred times more comfy. ...oh, if only she could stay. Like, forever.) "Sorry," Inna blurted out, burying her face in her neck, "sorry, I-- I know." ...okay, were those goddamn tears streaming down her cheeks? Well, duh, because it certainly wasn't holy water! Liora must have noticed, too, since the way they wet her shirt wasn't exactly subtle, and that was the worst fucking feeling. Tears were associated with emotions, which Inna Orlovskaya didn't fucking do! Every one of these amygdala-influenced fuckers represented an opening in her armor, and-- wait. Liora had seen her cry already, right? And she hadn't stabbed her through that opening, even if she could have. ...maybe, just maybe her partner was safe, then. "I didn't trust her," the blonde admitted. "The last time I did, she fucking set me on fire, so like, I don't think it was unreasonable. And, um, yeah. Yeah, I know. I didn't, though, because you were here. Thank you." the blonde pulled away, just enough to look Liora in the eyes, and... smiled? Shyly, almost, which was so not Inna it fucking surprised her as well.

"Oh, how very touching!" Alessia clapped as she materialized out of nowhere, a stupid smile on her stupid face. "You girls have gone such a long, long way! Too bad the path before you is perilous still. Even so, that's not why I have come. See my boy Remus here? He's a bit stubborn, I'm afraid, and won't listen to you because you are not family. Fortunately, I can summon his brother Romulus-- he'll give him a heart-to-heart. For that, though, I'll need some of his blood! You know, kinda like I was made to bleed for him? Just do that for me, ladies, and I'll take care of the rest."

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉
​

Against her better judgment, or some form of judgment that exists within her, she does hold Inna even closer the second the blonde has her arms around her neck, the second she feels tears wetting her shirt. She even presses her cheek to the top of Inna's head. Angry as she is, it is not a strong or lasting anger and now that she has her in the safety of her arms she feels more relief than anything else. Her body seems to melt and mold to fit the shape of her partner. A long forgotten instinct returns to her in that moment and while one arm remains firmly fastened to her, the other rubs her back gently.

"Just––you can't scare me like that, Inna. I've been able to save you so far, but what if... what if I can't? What if I'm not strong enough?" While Liora used to believe that she was the best at everything and better than everyone else, magic is one area of expertise where she feels lacking (appropriately so, given she has only had these powers for a few days and is only just beginning to understand how some of them work). It's difficult for her to admit and yet it is such a stark truth that it is easy to name––pretending she is anything more than a novice would be truly delusional and Liora likes her delusions to be somewhat grounded in reality. "I've cleaned up human splatter before and I really don't fucking want clean up yours, okay?"

"You don't need to trust Haenel, but Jesus Christ, could you at least hold onto her? We don't have our guns anymore so until we get replacements, we have to use those sentient pieces of steel." Liora is not trying to be controlling, but she doesn't like the idea of Inna in trouble and being unable to defend herself––especially in the event she is not able to protect her. Like she has promised to do, recently in this life and so many more time in the one before (in a pleading way, she feels that it had been a plea to be able to have the chance to protect her––another confusing piece to add to the puzzle). "Like I guess I can't force you to use her if you don't want to," she admits. "So just stick close to me," she says, implicitly suggesting she'll take care of her if she doesn't want to use the demon sword. She presses their foreheads together, swiping away Inna's tears using the pad of her thumb, nearly touching that precious smile of hers but stopping. There's another thought beginning to form in her head, an impulsive one that she almost acts on but Alessia arrives just in time to shake some sense into Liora (even if she is annoyed that the resident nuisance has returned). 'Well, it probably would have been weird to kiss for non-medical reasons,' she thinks as she pulls away to glare at the disturbance.

Alessia's arrival is, obviously, unwelcome––even with her weird tip and offer for help. Liora is specifically annoyed because before her arrival, she existed in this bubble where Inna is in her arms and they're having a heartfelt moment, one not felt in eons, so she wants to savor it, but nooooooo responsibility strikes again. (Seriously, she's beginning to wonder if her mother is so powerful that she is ensuring Liora always remain on task.) She doesn't move though. She doesn't let go of her partner even if it would be an appropriate time to do so. "Alessia, could you like fucking read the goddamn room for once in your fucking life?!" Liora wishes for the ability to take her out with one swift kick to the jaw. The image is a little too soothing.

"I did and the room happened to be Rome, which is on fire, and I thought to myself, 'Hmm maybe I should check on those two skinny bitches and see if they decided to clean up.' Turns out you made things worse, but at least you're here now. Chop, chop––my offer to help you will expire if you keep wasting my time," she smiles sweetly and if there had not been an Inna standing in between them, Liora would have launched and bitch-slapped her into the next century. As it is, she just barely holds it together and the only thing that pulls her away from some angelic thoughts is the sound of Remus howling––which is apparently the new trick-start for tornadoes. Alessia smirks to punctuate this new development, "And trust me, you do need my help to defeat Remus."

Liora somewhat settles on flipping Alessia off (which has no meaning to her, being Italian/not-of-this-world and all) as she begrudgingly goes to locate the swords that seem to only teleport when they are not wanted. "Honestly, the faster we do this the faster we can get Alessia to shut the fuck up and hopefully never fucking seeing her again." She regrets more and more saving Alessia earlier this morning and hopefully Inna has forgotten that it was her idea as well. "Do you think I can get Brutus to wield Declan and Haenel so we don't have to do this? Because those tornadoes... Look, I'm not fucking Dorothy and I'd rather deal with them from a distance."