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

[Syntra]

'Then I fucking die,' the edgy part of Inna wanted to say. 'So what?' Except that, you know, that edgy part of her was buried under all these new, exciting feelings-- feelings that may and may not have been hers, or at least not entirely. (Ivy probably had something to do with it. ...Ivy, Ivy, Ivy. That name did and didn't belong to her, too, and, in some way, Inna... didn't really want to explore that sensation. As in, there were so many red flags surrounding those three letters that they could successfully fight a fucking bull! Had the blonde been more pretentious, she would have called it a Pandora's box, and-- fuck it, actually. Using one's vocabulary to its full extent was freeing, so yeah, Pandora's box it was! And since Pandora had been a fucking dumbass for opening it, Inna sure as hell wouldn't follow in her footsteps. Yay for lids!)

"You fucking are strong, though," the blonde finally said, instead of whatever poisonous response that had been forming in her belly. "I know it. I'm Inna Orlovskaya, and I always know the best, and so I know you're good enough. Easy peasy." ...wow. That, uh, came out stronger than she had intended it to? Like one of those times when you meant to compliment a girl on her haircut and ended up confessing your undying love to her instead-- which, Inna was sure, was a totally normal mix up. (A totally normal mix up that had, by the way, never happened to her. No, she was just... overflowing with empathy for hypothetical fucking people in hypothetical fucking scenarios, because that was the kind of person she was. Haha!) Anyway, intense as it was, the blonde... didn't actually regret saying that? Like, it rang true. Before the Recent DevelopmentsTM, Liora had been her nemesis, and Inna Fucking Orlovskaya would never have given that role to someone mediocre. For that, she was too iconic! Only Satan herself could truly oppose her, or maybe some kind of god, so clearly, Liora must have been on a similar level as well. That was basic logic and thus also science as well, so like, good luck denying that, bitch. (...or perhaps she was something in between? Like her angel, or--)

Ummm, yeah. Yeah, Liora picked this moment to basically say that she would fucking take care of her, which meant that, yay! The guardian angel theory confirmed. (It also may have triggered certain, uh, suppressed fantasies, such as cooking for her partner and hugging her from behind when she returned from work and, also, would it be too pathetic if this montage ended in wedding? Because that seemed like the logical climax of that arc to Inna. You know, since she loved smooth narratives with no loose ends!) "I will," the blonde said, starry eyed. "Stay, I mean. With you." See? Fucking see? With the power of Context at her side, the statement could be read without romantic connotations, which officially made it Not Weird-- except that Inna could still use this as fuel for her fantasy adventures regardless. So, everyone won! ...but, wow, was it just her, or was Liora looking at her fucking lips? Oh god, oh god, oh god!!! Was she going to kiss her? As a certified hottie, Inna had been kissed many times, and people had usually looked at her like this! (Well, roughly like this, since no two women kissed the same, though still. This wasn't a drill! This sure as fuck wasn't a fucking drill, and her heart was beating so, so fast, and god fucking dammit, why did it feel like her first kiss? Like, earth-shattering shit! Do it, do it, do it! Or do I have to wait another lifeti-- wait, what?)

It was magical and perfect-- too perfect to actually happen in this shit world, in other words. Just, ugh! Why did the god hate them so? What had she ever done to anyone, anyway?! (And, no, all those dead people didn't count. Technically speaking, they weren't people anymore-- just corpses, and corpses didn't even have, uhhh, IDs. See? Not human!) Annoyed to the nth degree, Inna shot Alessia a glare that could kill. "Don't you have something better to do? Like, I dunno, slitting your own wrists?"

"Charming, Inna. I'll just pretend I didn't hear that. And, Liora, that is a sound plan," please, don't say but, fucking don't say it, I am begging you, Inna thought with all of her might, "but," Alessia smiled sweetly, "close combat will be necessary. The rituals need to be perfect mirrors to one another, you see? And surely you remember that I bled on Remus, not five kilometers away from him. If he bleeds elsewhere, his blood will be about as useful as... how do you mortals call it? Ketchup," she beamed, apparently very, very proud of herself, and Inna had to employ all of her meager self-control not to break her fucking nose. "So, you may want to adjust your strategy!"

"Not more than I want to adjust your stupid face, you-- you poor imitation of a human being. Your hair looks like a cheap wig, too. Not even a fucking third-rate cosplayer would wear that!" Inna pointed her index finger at her accusingly. "But," she sighed, "okay. Okay, you win!" Normally, the blonde would have ditched this dumbass task the second someone had been stupid enough to entrust it to her, but with the traitor swords traitorously teleporting them around? Yeah, they didn't exactly have that option here.

"I guess this means I should act as bait?" Inna suggested, turning back to Liora. (Automatically, her eyes grew softer-- kinder, even, if you were radical enough to use that adjective for Inna Merciless Orlovskaya.) "Like, we can prepare some fucking trap and I'll lead him here, via Brutus. Or do you have a better idea?"

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉
​

Did Inna not hear what Liora just said? Was she not listening? She knows that is actually a distinct possibility knowing the blonde, but it is still astounding that she is flagrant about it. What the Hell is even between her ears? Liora is not convinced it's gray matter. Is it just mush? It's like she doesn't realize that when Liora says she doesn't want her in harms way and that she will protect that she means it. So to Hell if Liora is going to let her get vaporized by some overgrown dog. Despite her frustration, she concentrates it elsewhere and the disbelief only lingers in her eyes. “Inna, I have a thousand ideas that are better than that. Were you not fucking listening to me? I am not letting you put yourself in danger! Not again—" she stops, realizing that she technically cannot do this all alone and she will need Inna's help. Just how can she be sure to keep her safe?

She sighs and rests a hand on the other's shoulder. "Listen, hotshot, WE do need to get Remus over here," because she doesn't like the idea of abandoning Inna either. It's not that she believes she's totally defenseless, she does know that the blonde can handle herself; she knows that fire of hers is powerful. So maybe that's why she uses it as the perfect excuse to ensure that they stay together. "I'll drive Brutus and you focus on serving Remus fireballs––we'll get him to chase us towards Alessia and, uh, make him bleed." Duh. Planning out every detail of these magic missions has already proven pointless so even if winging it is not her strong suit, she compromises with these half-plans/loose guidelines. She figures Inna will fill in the blanks––since on the spot thinking seems to be her strong suit.

Since this isn't up for debate she doesn't bother entertaining any of Inna's reactions. Nope! Liora Trinh is always the boss and it is almost always her way or the highway. So, with two fingers between her lips, she whistles––and maybe it's magic or she's just that loud, but it resonates through the city––calling Brutus back to her creator. Her butterfly-worm is there in seconds and, being a good mother, she pets her creation, growing fonder of her the longer she exists. "Hold on tight," she says as she hops onto Brutus, swinging one leg over her side and then bending to offer Inna a hand. It very much mirrors a knight helping a lady, a princess, onto her trusty steed.

“Let’s fucking drown this bitch in blood.“ Is that edgy enough? She wants to sound a little cool. Honestly, she has to at least look a little cool, because what is cooler than riding a butterfly-worm of your own making while wielding a sword? (Definitely, never in a million years, would she have thought this would count as cool; but she also had never expected to more or less runaway from home, infiltrate the mafia, have a workplace nemesis, develop magic powers with said workplace nemesis, kiss said workplace nemesis twice (2), want to kiss her more... Etcetera, etcetera, and then conjure giant butterfly-worms with her powers.)

 

[Syntra]

Ugh. Of course that this couldn't fucking last! This strange peace, or whatever it was. She and Liora were like oil and water, or fire and ice, or... uhhhh, smoking and those commercials that claimed lighting one cigarette would immediately lead to you getting cancer? So, yeah, it made sense they would turn upon one another. A lot of sense, actually! Fate had marked them as enemies, nemeses, even, and now it was obvious the bitterness would only disappear with one of them rotting in a shallow-- wait, what? Liora was concerned for her safety? It wasn't as if she hadn't advertised the same sentiment a few seconds ago, of course, but let's just say Inna wasn't exactly used to people keeping their fucking word. Because, given how often they had repeated stuff like 'but', 'later' or 'not now'? Someone who didn't speak English might come to the conclusion those were the verses of some goddamn prayer! (...they might have been the first words she had learned, too. Not 'mother' or 'father', but excuses, excuses and excuses, one shittier than the one before it. Like, had Inna been unhinged enough to believe in hippie bullshit such as 'deep psychological scars', this would probably have been a good example of one! That wasn't her case, though, and so she was safe from the concept. Whew, lucky her! And if it somehow started bothering her, well, she had Liora now-- Liora, who had never stooped so low as to use such weakass words. No, even when she had been staggeringly wrong, her colleague had always stood her ground, and Inna... well, okay, Inna kinda admired her for that. Kinda, or maybe even a lot. Look, she wasn't a goddamn linguist, okay? Fuck off with all these delicate nuances!)

"Ah. Um. Okay, then. We can do this... together, I guess," Inna said, still somewhat stunned. (...together, huh. The word tasted sweet and airy on her tongue, kinda like cotton candy, and she wouldn't mind eating it all day, really. Especially in combination with that association to Liora! Liora, whose sweetness was buried under seventy layers of bitchiness, but it existed, apparently, which, wow. This is what discovering water on fucking Mars must have felt like! Except that no, not exactly, because it wasn't like a few pitiful drops of water on Mars did anything for literally anyone. Like??? One would have thought they had found a goddamn alien empire there, complete with cyborgs and shit, and meanwhile, they had been crapping their pants over some good old H2O. Clap, clap, suckers! So, no, it wasn't like that at all. It was like something useful, such as, uhhh, fart-powered cars or dismantling capitalism for realsies.)

"Fine. Sounds like a fucking plan," the blonde nodded, deciding to postpone her search for a suitable simile for now. Words could wait, but Rome couldn't! (Not that Inna cared about the stupid city much, mind you, but if solving the issue meant getting rid of Alessia's stalkery ass, then she was down with that. Afterwards, they could get more ice-cream as a reward, and maybe cuddle a little bit, and see whether they could re-create that spicy atmosphere from before. ...what? They fucking deserved it, of that Inna was certain. Also, you couldn't save the world with your head full of ~disruptive thoughts~! Because they did disruptive things, and, uhh, contributed to the general disruptiveness. ...hmmm. Maybe she could try to sell this to Liora as 'releasing pent-up tension to increase their effectivity?' The plan was worth exploring, and Inna filed it away for later use.) "The bitch is somewhat fire-proof, but judging from his reactions? I think it's fair to say it still hurts him. So, yeah, we sure as hell can lure him here. Then we'll send his severed head to his fucking kids, or something! If he has any, that is." ...okay, as far as edgy remarks went, this one was pretty weak. It wasn't like Inna could help it, though! Lately, her knees turned to jelly and Liora's presence, and like, just try to think of sophisticated insults in this sappy state. "If not, I guess we can nail it to the wall of our apartment as a trophy. Once we-- once we get an apartment, I mean." Whoa, whoa, what?! (Inna had, of course, heard the phrase 'digging one's one grave' before, but only now could she appreciate it to the fullest. Like, the tectonic plates were dancing the fucking jive under her feet!)

Thankfully, there was a monster to slay, and so Inna had an excuse not to dwell on what otherwise would have been the faux pas of the century. Accepting Liora's hand, she climbed aboard Brutus-- which honestly should have been accompanied by some kickass soundtrack, and the fact that it wasn't was grounds for at least three different lawsuits. Still, time for slaughter, bitches! ...theoretically, at least.

The realm of theory, however, could be pretty fucking divorced from practice sometimes. Liora and her driving skills helped them avoid the tornadoes, yeah, and Inna's firestorms were as mindblowingly awesome as ever, but you know what? All of that mattered fuck all when the bastard didn't even care! He must have been evolving in real time or something, because now, Remus didn't even flinch when the fireballs hit him-- nah, he just continued with his merry rampage instead. (Which, rude! Inna was trying so hard and this was the reaction he gave her? Seriously? A more considerate audience would have showered her in cash, at least!) Even more disturbingly, the swords... didn't really seem to do anything, either. At one point, Brutus got close enough to be able to hit him with Haenel, and you know what? She might as well have been made of fucking foam rubber, 'cause the damage she dealt to him was approximately the same. No, Inna thought bitterly, not foam rubber. Disappointment, that's her goddamn essence! Stupid fucking Haenel-- useful her ass, really! 'Boo hoo, look at me, I'm a sacred, ancient sword, and the only thing I can do right is to bully an already emotionally bruised girl.' Like, had Inna wanted that, she could have found someone from her fucking family to--

"Hellooo? Can you hear me?"

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. Was there no place where Inna could enjoy a moment of fucking peace? No? No. Okay, it wasn't like she had ever yearned for anything like that, anyway! "What the fuck are you doing in my head, Alessia? Should I remember the grossest thing I have ever seen to smoke you out? Which, by the way, would be your goddamn face!"

"That's a yes, I suppose," Alessia said, and Inna could fucking sense that annoying smile of hers even without seeing it. "Plus, I vaguely remember you trying to seduce me, so this kinda lacks the punch, Inna. Anyway, not why I'm calling. What did I want to... Ah, yes, now I remember! I wanted to let you know you fucked up. My boy Remus here grows stronger with each inch of Rome destroyed, you see, and you kinda missed your chance."

"...so, does that mean we can go home?" Inna frowned. (Not that she had any home to speak of, mind you, but pretty much anything was better than this fucking Fiery Apocalypse feat. Onii-chan Issues.)

"No, actually! It means I'll grant you the opportunity to do better. Hold onto something, ladies."

"Wait, can't you fucking expla--" No, of course she couldn't, as Inna quickly realized. Her name was Alessia, and Alessia's entire shtick was ignoring the pillars of normal goddamn communication. Swiftly, the blonde grabbed Liora's hand, which-- yeah, alright, a good thing she did that! Something seized her entire motherfucking soul, touched it with its icy fingers, and for a few terrifying moments, Inna couldn't breathe. (...she wasn't really choking, though? No, more than that, it seemed like the blonde couldn't breathe because she didn't actually exist. You know that feeling you get when you sit on your leg for a longass time and it sorta dies? Well, it kind of felt like that, except that with her entire body and about hundred times more intense!)

And then it went away, as quickly as it began. Inna blinked into the sunlight, disoriented, and, wow. The buildings were... gone? All of them, really. The thing was, they weren't destroyed per se-- instead, Inna and Liora found themselves sitting on some stupid grassy hill that looked as if nothing had ever been built in its vicinity at all. ...huh. A realization dawned on her then, and she jumped to her feet. "Wait, wait, wait. Wait a goddamn second! Has the stupid bitch actually sent us into the fucking past?!"

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉
​

Inna suggesting that they will one day live together does not go over the woman's head––in fact, she's thinking about it as she simultaneously dodges tornados and attacks from Remus. Thankfully, driving has always been a task she can do without thinking. Usually, her drives are a way for her to clear her head and even though she is operating a gargantuan butterfly-worm, in the middle of some epic battle between herself, her hot partner (because of the fire), and a giant demonic wolf, she finds the time to also think about that comment. She supposes it would be nice to live together––it makes sense too. Depending on how long this whole Saving the Fucking World mission takes maybe they should live together? It would save time and money... It would be entirely convenient. Now, the real question is figuring out how messy Inna is because––

"Hellooo? Can you hear me?"​

​

'Jesus fucking Christ!' Just how many mythological beings have access to her train of thought and how the fuck can she kick them off? Because it is getting real tiresome having these bitches in her head! Before she knows it, fucking Inna will be inside her head too! Though the reasons she is against that are different from the reasons that cause her to want Declan and Alessia to be yanked out of her mind (presumably, Haenel as well, but that is an untested hypothesis that she hopes remains untested). Unfortunately, there is no time to explain that, because she can feel herself splitting from her body and being pulled elsewhere.

Now, where exactly is Elsewhere? Pre-Roman times, apparently.

Okay. Okay. Okay. Liora is chill. Liora is fine. This is a perfectly reasonable development. Except that it isn’t and she is wondering why Alessia failed to mention this important piece of information until now. Because, sure, Liora had been pissed earlier about this whole situation and refused her predestined role, but had she known it would bite her in the ass like this? Maybe she would have been a little more reasonable. You know, since she is an extremely rational person and explaining things logically usually works on her, but nooooo. Everything has to be done and be learned the hard way in the magical extended universe. (Like is this supposed to make them stronger or better? Do the bullshit entities that exist in the magic world just trust anything that they hear and follow orders mindlessly? That seems illogical to Liora and yet, so far, there have been implicit expectations that herself and Inna just do exactly that! The real joke, then, is on The Universe herself for picking some of the most suspicious and untrusting women out there to save the world.)

She turns to Inna, disbelief all over her slightly-translucent features. "This has got to be the most annoying assignment we have ever been sent on and I thought that stake-out in Prague was going to eat my brain because it was so fucking boring!" She doesn't notice that Inna's hand is in her own and that she had been holding onto it for dear life until she swings her arms up in exasperation and notices it is attached to her partner. 'Oh,' she thinks, but she doesn't let go. When her arms come back down, she remains attached to Inna, finding it comforting that in all this bullshit she has her partner. Reflexively, she gives her hand a squeeze.

"And what the fuck does she mean by giving us a second chance? That stupid bitch sent us way too far back––like what? She can send us to fucking 1000 B.C.E. but not to a few hours ago when Remus was probably a weak-ass little dog?" As her irritation builds so does her volume and she becomes noticeably more tense and frustrated.

Of course in that moment, two figures come into view––well, they don't come into view so much as they walk right through the two women (which feels weird––like she is made of some thick liquid and when they walk through her, her body ripples in response). The figures are two men (ugh) and they seem to be having a heated discussion. At first, Liora doesn't understand them––the language they're speaking is not one she is familiar with but soon her ears adjust and she's able to catch snippets of what they're saying as they walk off to some small settlement.

"Oh, brother, please––lighten up, it was only a prank! Surely, you are not upset over some feathers tarred to your armor. I just thought it would match your flight personality is all," one says, he appears to be younger of the two.

The second brother snaps back, "You've made me look entirely ridiculous, Remus! In front of my entire peoples! How are they ever going to respect me?"

'No fucking way,' Liora thinks turning to look at Inna. "Is this supposed to be some history lesson to help us defeat that fucking dog version of Remus or...?" She hopes not, because that seems stupid. She already knows this myth and how its supposed to end. It hadn't helped her before so why would it help her now? "No, the dumb bitch said we are here to do better," she says, thinking out loud. She looks at the ghost sword in her hand, asking Declan silently if she has any ideas. Naturally, she doesn't get a response. The owl is suspiciously quiet. "Hey, is Haenel talking to you at all?"

 

[Syntra]

Was Inna shocked? Well, naturally. It didn't happen to her every day that she was transported to the past via some advanced magical bullshittery, so yeah, it was safe to say the blonde felt justified in her bafflement. At the same time, however? That part of her that ran on pure pattern recognition and nothing else kinda... saw this as a part of a bigger picture, really. (Of a bigger picture that had been painted using literal shit, but hey! This was her life now, so no point in being choosy. Inna might as well get used to, uh... all the shades of brown and various smells? Because there was a snowball's chance in hell of this ever improving. If anything, she could fucking see this escalating-- it was a goddamn matter of time till Alessia, or some other bastard, yeeted her into another dimension so that she might kill Hitler before he was born, or something. That seemed to be the logical outcome here, right? Because Fate, the demented architect of these increasingly more improbable events, was surely frothing at the mouth at the idea of that! ...could all of this be some fucked up competition to make her angry? Like, 'provoke Inna into flying into murderous rage and receive a free cookie?' So far, her experiences with the supernaturals supported that goddamn theory.) "No, you don't get it," Inna smiled sweetly. "That would have made some sort of sense, you see, and Alessia isn't there to make sense. Nah, she's there to be fucking obnoxious. And, like, I hate to admit that, but as someone who dabbles in the art of eroding people's sanity as well? The girl's scarily good. A fucking league of her own!" Maybe that was the entire point-- making Inna taste her own medicine, and force her to acknowledge it was goddamn bitter. The problem with that, though? Inna knew! Inna had known all along, and it was, in fact, the entire motherfucking point! She wasn't investing so much effort into being as annoying as possible to... be likeable... just??? How hilariously backwards! Some galaxy-brained fucks might convince themselves being an outrageous asshole would generate a Stockholm syndrome of sorts in their victims, but like, not Inna's case. No, she used it as her fucking shield, and shield was meant to keep people away.

(Because fuck off with that 'gotta open your heart to people' nonsense. It was a pretty cute idea when examined in isolation, but you know what happened every. single. time she had done something similar? Heartbreak, inevitably. Like, was it so hard to understand that her heart wasn't one of those footbags you could kick and kick and kick, until you got bored of it? That she might not enjoy that sort of behavior? It didn't seem like a difficult concept to grasp, though here they fucking were. So, in other words, Fate could shove its ~precious lessons~ and ~dramatic irony~ where the sun didn't shine! Inna was going to take absolutely nothing from this, and remain in her little shell of ignorance forever. She'd already decorated it, dammit!)

"Anyway, I have no fucking idea what the bitch might want from us. You think we graduated to the position of lab rats? Is this some elaborate maze we are supposed to wander in for her amusement?" Because if that was the plan, then it was, uhhh, pretty bad. Laughably so, since Inna had absolutely no problem with just plopping down on the grass and enjoying some goddamn rest for once in her life! (The blonde could live like this, she thought. Just her, green fields as far as the eye could see, and... and Liora. Liora, who would literally be the only other person in her life now. ...didn't this seem like some Adam and Eve shit? Wow, wow, wow! What if this was actually a reward for all that bullshit Inna had had to wade through, with grace and limitless patience? Her own paradise and a hot girl to seduce? This one might not even abandon her, considering she would have literally nowhere to go to! ...which was the healthiest fucking foundation for any relationship, Inna was sure. Stability equaled to wholesomeness, right? Right!)

Before she could develop her fantasies further, though, some guys appeared in their field of vision. Guys who turned out to be... Romulus and Remus? Talk about a fucking coincidence! "Um, no. She's been silent. Personally, I'm hoping that it stays that way. You think there's a reliable method for cutting out tongues when it comes to spirits? 'Cause I'm starting to understand the fucking adage about silence allegedly healing." Still, though, that could be solved later-- Inna could check out books on exorcism, or something. Mutilating one's guardian spirit would fall under that umbrella, right?

"Maybe we're supposed to kill him here," the blonde suggested, a thoughtful pucker on her forehead. "I mean, murder is all I'm qualified for and he seems pretty fucking vulnerable here. Go big or go home, I say!" And since Inna always went for the former? She didn't hesitate-- not for a fucking second. Swiftly, she rose to her feet, sneaked to Remus from behind and wrapped her fingers around... huh. 'Attempted to wrap her fingers around his neck' would be a more fitting way to say it, really, because they fucking phased through! Disgusted, Inna spat on the ground. "The bitch is not making this any easier for us. Say, princess, what was their legend even about? 'Cause, uh, I kinda know fuck all about these things."

"...fuck all? Your vocabulary gets nastier and nastier with each passing second, Remus," Romulus scoffed. "Is this how you hope to earn the respect of our people?"

"What?! I didn't say that," Remus defended his honor. "Do you have worms in your brain, dearest brother? Since it looks that way to me."

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

“This doesn't seem like a fucking promotion to me. If one more of these fucking fuckers approaches us with a new task or some weird cryptic message about Vie and Ivy, I'm going to fucking stab them." It's a threat as much as it a promise; she is angry enough to act on the impulse, but with some time she may let it go. She will, however, ask to see the credentials of the next fucking fucker because the magic world seems to be full of shady figures and she is fed up with dealing with incompetence. (The mafia had given her enough experience with incompetence that it could last a lifetime or two––like how hard is it to put a bullet in someone's head without getting caught? Some of those idiots made it seem as challenging as a Yale quantum physics exam.)

That, however, is not the point. As she finds herself getting sidetracked with a past life that no longer exists to her, because she is no longer Normal Liora, she is now Sorcerer Liora, she brings herself back by watching Inna’s murder attempt. And apparently, being stuck in the past means that they are not able to interact with the things from the past. It's like only a ghost of their selves exist. So this really does just keep getting better and better. Ugh! She rises from her seated position on the grassy knoll and starts to follow the brothers towards the settlement. "Well, basically those two idiots were raised by wolves and when they grew up Romulus built a wall around his settlement, A-K-A Rome, and Remus made fun of it, so he killed him," she’s pretty sure that's the gist of it. (It’s also flattering to her that Inna rightfully assumed that she would know this.)

"It's kind of stupid––" she stops, watching the brothers react to Inna's language. ‘Alright... so they can hear us...’ A thought comes to her head after this discovery and without thinking much about it, since she really doesn't think she has much to lose by trying this, she cups her hands around her mouth and shouts, "Romulus still pisses himself!" It's the first thing that comes to mind––but she knows how to handle siblings and it's not hard to get under their skins. The pettier the comment the better.

The effect of her call is immediate in that Romulus whips around, eyes hot and fiery as he searches for the slanderer. "Remus! What is the meaning of this!" His head flies back over to his brother.

Remus only looks wide-eyed in shock, though a smile does threaten to reveal itself. As earnestly as he can manage, he responds, "I haven't the faintest clue––perhaps the gods are blessing us with some pertinent knowledge."

The two continue on, bickering––more so on Romulus' end, Remus appears to be the less uptight of the two––and Liora creates some distance between the groups to sidebar with the blonde. She looks at Inna, "Alright, so we can't do anything to them, but they sure as fuck can hear us." It's not hard to figure out what to do from here. "Romulus seems to have a fragile little ego so annoying him into killing Remus shouldn't be difficult.” She then hesitantly, but with a smile adds, “I mean, I think other than killing, we were both pretty good at nearly driving each other to murder." She hopes it's not too soon to make light of their former relationship, but she's also not wrong. Getting under people's skin is an area of expertise they both have and Liora has also had the benefit of learning from the master (her sister). "Fratricide should be cake for us."

As they approach the pathetic settlement, pathetic in comparison to what Rome becomes, that is, Liora can immediately deduce why Remus berated the wall. It’s just giant fucking rocks—like maybe cement or whatever hasn’t been invented yet but even so Romulus hasn’t even bothered to fill the gaps between boulders with smaller stones. The functionality of it is useless. And riding on antagonistic sibling energy, she finds a joke and decides to share it with her partner first. “Oh my god, Inna,” she starts laughing. “Do you think he erected that to compensate for something?”

 

[Syntra]

...wow. A murder because of some fucking wall? Now, don't get her wrong, Inna was the goddamn Queen of Pettiness, but this seemed too much even to her. Just??? He could have found a better reason, at least-- something like Remus stealing the last cookie from the cookie jar without permission, or maybe making fun of him in front of that really cute girl. (In Inna's mind, both of those would be totally justified! People who stood between her and her snacks deserved death, without question, and the same went for those who dared to disrupt her sacred quest to become the better version of Don Juan. Donna Juanita, or something? Was that how it worked? Anyway, the Greeks had once gone to war for a fucking woman, so there was no reason Inna couldn't do that as well! ...aside from, you know, not having any army or the resources, but those were all such tiny, boring details. Only bastards who let reality bind their hands allowed that to destroy their dreams! Besides, a week ago, Inna hadn't even had magical powers, so like, checkmate, atheists. If these trends continued, the blonde would have a whole-ass army of demons at her command in a month tops.)

"I dunno, princess," Inna frowned. "Isn't that supposed to be some fucking symbolism for... something? The insurmountable distance between their different visions for Rome, maybe? Yeah, yeah, I know it's pretentious as hell, but those idiots breathed pretentiousness. They were all: Oooh, look at me, I say something, but mean something else! For some reason, that makes me smart, and not a fucking dumbass who doesn't understand how words work. Man oh man, I just know English professors will lap this shit up a few centuries later!" And if Inna sounded bitter, then that was only the case because it was true. Like, seriously. In a just world, 'literature students' would get beheaded the same day they chose to study that pointless bullshit-- but, noooo, instead of that, they were allowed to poison more young minds at schools. Kids should fucking study useful stuff, such as how to kill a man twice your size effectively, or how to con a corporation out of their stolen money. The education system was in a dire need of some fucking reform!

Inna would have ranted some more, mostly because angry rants were like 90% of the reason she still bothered to stay alive, except that then Certain FactsTM came to light. Fact number one: The merry band of fuckers could hear them. Fact number two: Liora, underneath her rules-loving exterior, could actually get a medal for advancing the fucking art of psychological warfare! (...which, uh, was weirdly hot. Now, when she was stuck in this strange limbo of not exactly hating her, but not knowing what she felt for her, Inna could admit that being insulted by Liora had been somewhat stimulating-- in that it had helped her perfect her own technique, because stealing your opponent's moves was a time-honored tradition. Insulting other people alongside her, though? Wow, what a completely different experience! Kind of like eating from a fucking trash can versus a dinner at a five-star restaurant, and, uh, Inna kinda liked it. More than she would have liked to admit, even.) "You know what, princess? I think the world isn't fucking ready for our cooperation. Like, the second we start taking it seriously, it's over for these bitches. The universe may as well combust, 'cause it'll never trump this. The combined might of Inna Orlovskaya and Liora Trihn, that is! But, yeah, let's show them how these things are done," Inna beamed at her companion and nodded eagerly. "I missed some good old psychological terror... among, uhh, all that new magic-related terror."

Anyway, Fact number three: the wall, indeed, sucked. Now Inna understood why Remus had decided to mock it-- it was the Chett of walls, in that it was ugly as fuck and practically falling apart. (The monument to human stupidity, really. Like, what the hell was he thinking?! 'Hey, let's do the bare minimum and maybe the gods will take care of the rest'? Not how these things worked, pal. The gods wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire-- instead, they'd sooner douse you in goddamn gasoline!) "Pffft!" Inna snorted. "If this pitiful fucking pile of rocks is representative of literally anything that is going on with his body, the guy should visit a doctor."

"A pile of rocks?" Romulus raised his voice, turning around to face his brother. "Remus, this is not funny. I almost broke my back trying to drag this perfectly shaped boulder here. You know, the boulder you promised to help me with before you suspiciously fell ill!"

"You and your stupid conspiracy theories," Remus rolled his eyes. "Look, it's not my fault that--"

"--you're such a fucking dumbass!" Inna shouted with the full capacity of her lungs.

"What! So you were out partying, just as I thought?! Remus, this is scandalous. Completely and utterly so!"

"No, that's not true. I really felt ill, and besides, I was busy--"

"--pissing into your sleeping bag," the blonde improvised. "I couldn't help but notice you sleep alone all the time, dearest brother, and so I wanted to share some of my warmth."

And at that point? Romulus' face was so fucking red you could easily mistake it for a lobster. "Ah ha!" he pointed an accusatory finger at Remus. "I knew you tried to sabotage me, you treacherous little worm. To-- to make my people love me less, with these dirty tactics!" ...wow. So he actually had a problem with body odor? (A good thing that this vision of the past didn't include smells, Inna supposed. Sniffing ancient sweat wasn't really very high on her goddamn wishlist!)

"By the gods, Romulus," Remus spread his arms, exasperated. "Don't be so ridiculous. Of course I'm not trying to sabotage you."

"You kinda did that yourself, with you shitty parody of a wall!" Inna screamed into the other man's ear. "What, were you hoping the invaders would see it and go: 'Hmmm, no need to check this settlement out, these fuckers don't have anything worth stealing, anyway?' A splendid plan, dear brother!"

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

Watching Inna, a master of her craft, at work is oddly alluring? Entertaining? Intriguing? Liora isn’t sure, but the feeling isn’t a bad one and she knows she is at least awestruck. The insults themselves aren’t things she thinks she couldn’t have come up with on her own, but the rate at which these quips fly from the blonde’s lips? She should get an award. Or a reward. But Liora doesn’t spend much time getting lost on that train of thought, because she finds both the competitive side of herself and the side that wants to impress Inna coming out (not that those versions of herself are well hidden in the first place). It also doesn’t seem like they’ll need much else to push Romulus over the edge, thanks to her partner’s stroke of brilliance (if one could call it that—Liora may be far too dazzled to be an objective reviewer).

"I swear to the gods, Remus, if you insult my wall one more time! I dare you to see what happens," Romulus whines like some petulant over-pampered child.

As has become habit, she grabs Inna’s hand as they follow the two imbeciles and gives it a squeeze as if to say, ‘That was good—now watch this.’ A smirk even presents itself on her lips. She switches sides to walk behind Remus and whispers to him, “You know it’s true—you know that wall is about as effective as a pile of leaves; you should demonstrate that. For the posteriority of Rome. You wouldn’t want the Etruscans coming in and wiping your sorry asses out. Jump over the damn thing and prove to your idiot brother that he is a fucking idiot.”

In combination with the suggestion and with his brother's increasing unreasonableness and fragile accusations, Remus smirks and does do as Liora had whispered. "Brother, let me prove to you how meaningless this gesture is––" And Liora had been right! The wall is completely useless against anyone who regularly participated in leg day.

The fire in Romulus’ eye only needs a helpful nudge and Liora provides, “Yeah your subordinates are never going to respect you now—you made such a fucking poor decision they’ll think you’re just a worm in the mud. Useless, worthless, pathetic little worm. You think they’ll respect a leader who can't even gain the fucking respect of his own younger brother? Pitiful. Remus is sure to usurp you now. The only way to stop that? Kill him.”

She shrugs and watches the rest of history play itself out. Romulus charges Remus, tackling him to the ground and begins to pummel him. He then draws his dagger and lodges it through Remus' skull and she's pretty sure that's what kills him. It must be, because soon after she feels her body shifting and, again, quickly grabs onto Inna's hand as they temporarily cease to exist and re-synchronize with their corporeal forms.

When she settles and opens her eyes again... Well, they are not where they had last been left––which, as she recalls, had been flying on the back of a giant worm and watching Rome burn. Though she is not sure what she had expected to see when they returned to the present, it certainly had not been to appear in some strange ornate bedroom. Even for Liora's upbringing, this is extravagance in excess––gold details are everywhere from the crown molding, to the bed posts and the desk and chair in the corner. The sheets underneath them are easily made of the finest silks. And the view out the window suggests they are at some sort of vineyard. The dark haired woman looks at Inna, perplexed, "Did we fuck that up so bad we're now in some alternate universe? Or is this a fucking reward?"

Before there is time for response, Declan comes into view in her owl form. She appears nervous and shiftier than usual. “Well, no. You two performed wonderfully! That teamwork was something they'd make an underdog sports movie about. But, uh, funny story... You’re really going to have a hoot and holler when you hear this one,” Declan says, wringing her little owl wings together as if she has actual hands. “So while you were, how do you kids say it... yeeted to the past, some of Chett’s lackeys came to try and murder your physical bodies. Thankfully Haenel and I were there to save the day––but another group came in while we were distracted and trapped you in this magical villa. Now the good news: Haenel and I are sixty-two percent sure these are good guys, but we also think they might be very bad guys. It's hard to tell––they're either preparing a sacrifice in your honor downstairs or you two are the sacrifices... Or they are trying to siphon your powers. We really aren't sure!”

 

[Syntra]

Inna Orlovskaya was used to winning, thank you very much. And hey, why the hell not? Her entire life was one uninterrupted string of victories, each greater than the one before it, and she refused to participate in the whole 'pretending to be humble' charade some people played to stay likable. Like??? Did the sun dim its shine to make dumbasses feel better about their dull ways? Did the lion shave off its mane because some insecure dudebros couldn't grow a beard to save their worthless, pathetic lives? No, of course not! So, Inna wouldn't make herself smaller, either. She'd take up space, and fill it with her expectations, and the world would have to take it, you know? Because if it didn't, the blonde would fucking carve the home she deserved-- and out of the bones of her enemies, too. Again and again and again, if only to spite them!

Anyway, the point of her little speech? Inna fully expected to succeeded. The odds were so fucking laughable, really, that Remus might as well have dug his own grave in advance-- in fact, maybe he should have strangled himself on his umbilical cord, because that would have been far more dignified than the end they had orchestrated for him. Just, mwhahahaha!!! She and Liora, the unstoppable duo. Yes, a duo, because her companion actually pulled her fucking weight! Inna watched, an amused smile on her lips, as the woman sowed more discord among brothers. (...which continued to be, uh, weirdly attractive. You know how in cartoons, they often depicted a little angel and a little devil on the protagonist's shoulder? Well, let's just say that Inna... imagined a similar scenario with Liora, kinda. She wasn't little, because that would have been weird, and she, ummm, may have been wearing a lot of leather, and also, also, her sitting on her shoulder wouldn't have worked, would it? 'Cause of her being a grown fucking woman and everything. So, in Inna's mind, Liora was actually kneeling at her feet as she was... presenting certain interesting propositions to her. Only for fun, though! Hahaha. Haha. Ha. Damn... this one was good, man. Right into her 'nightly fantasies' folder it went!) But, yeah, the fact that she expected to succeed didn't make their eventual victory any less sweeter. Like, would pizza be any less tasty just because you fucking ordered it, and thus knew it was coming? Nah, only a goddamn lunatic would view it that way! It was still pizza, dude. Just shut up about your ~complicated feelings~ and enjoy the cheese, for fuck's sake. And Inna? Inna, of course, intended to savor every metaphorical bite! "Nobody else is going to say this, so I kinda think I have to: good job, princess. You were great. We both were! The fuckers never stood a chance, and--"

Sadly, though, it seemed that Alessia was fond of teleporting Inna mid-speech-- well, that, or it was simply hard to find a moment in which the blonde happened to be silent. (...what? She just had a lot to say! Each word of hers was a fucking pearl of wisdom, too, and so the filthy mortals around her should feel blessed that she was this generous with them. In fact, perhaps Inna should hire a scribe who would record her musings for the future generations, so that they might learn from someone as awesome as she was. Hmmm, hmmm. The thought was worth exploring, at the very least!)

...not right now, though, because, wow. What the fuck was this, some heavenly reward? (Inna couldn't miss the fact they happened to be lying in a bed, too. And, hey, everyone knew beds were only good for two things! For sleep, and, hehe, wink, wink, nudge, nudge stuff. Now, using the advanced scientific method of observation, Inna was able to determine that they weren't in fact, sleeping. Which meant what? Why, that they were supposed to use the bed for that other purpose! Just, fuck. To think that Fate would be this blatant about its intentions for them! ...not that the blonde was complaining, of course. A nice, romantic vacation was something they absolutely deserved after the bullshit they had gone through, and if higher powers wanted to sponsor it, then so be fucking it.) "I dunno, princess," Inna gave Liora her most charming smile, "but if this is a punishment, then I don't mind being brought to fucking justice. Anyway, wanna a massage? I am Inna Fucking Orlovskaya, and I give the best massages, I assure you."

Inna was going to add something about her stiff back, too, but of fucking course that Declan had to appear and ruin the moment--and in the most spectacular manner, too. "...trapped in... a magical villa," the blonde repeated, practically stabbing the stupid owl with her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, cool. Thanks for the assist, guys! Not like we fucking wanted to not be stuck with creepy fuckers in a creepy mansion. It was one of my sight-seeing dreams for Rome, so I guess I can finally tick it off!" Like??? They had had one job. One. fucking. job! How hard could it be, keeping Chett's lackeys at bay? Most of them had been recruited straight out of some fucking dumpster, with their only qualification being that they could nod fast enough! One would have said that Ancient SpiritsTM would be able to beat such trash with their arms tied behind their back, but nooo, apparently. Handling the redshirts had cost them so much effort that another group and swooped in and stolen them, as if-- as if they were unguarded wallets, or something! ...was this the point where Inna could demand a refund? A refund, and maybe some compensation for emotional damages, too? (And, no, the figure 62% did not fucking fill her with a sense of peace!)

Before the blonde could explode, though, the door opened-- which revealed a fucking maid, straight out of some weeb's fantasies. "Miss Liora! Miss Inna! I am so, so glad that you are awake. Mistress was beginning to worry for your health-- it isn't healthy for your souls to leave your body for a prolonged period of time. But, anyway. Allow me to welcome you to the Giordano household! We would have liked to contact you in a more dignified way, trust me, but... well," the woman smiled, "it is rather hard to pick the spot in your packed schedule. You're always fighting some disgusting monsters!"

"...not out of our own volition, might I add," Inna grumbled as she side-eyed the girl. Yeah, yeah, she appeared to be reasonable so far, but what if it was a fucking trap, huh? 'Trust no bitch (aside from Liora)' was her new official motto! "Which, funny, but we aren't exactly here because we fucking want to, either. What is this about? Do I have to set something on fire? Because I fucking will. Don't try me!"

"N-no!" the maid's eyes widened, all color draining from her face at once. "We just wish to talk, that's all. My mistress has... the access to some information you might find useful. We also wished to thank you for saving Rome, which is why we prepared a feast for you. ...at least give chance for us? Please? You may go whenever you wish, too. We fortified the mansion to protect you, not to keep you here. A-anyway, if you do agree to meet my mistress, you should put on something appropriate. It will be a great celebration, after all! Whatever you find in these wardrobes is yours to wear."

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

Were Liora more well-versed in all things fantasy related the appearance of a maid and her talking about a Mistress might have raised several alarm bells in her head. Instead, she thinks the outfit is tacky and needs to be reworked, because she cannot imagine trying to perform maid-ly tasks wearing something as ridiculous as that. And that is really her only critique of the situation. Well, other than being utterly annoyed that they have been loosely kidnapped against their will––sure, the excuse that their schedule is busy is a good one, but for Christ's sake couldn't they have waited for the women to wake up and actually agree to whatever this next clusterfuck is? It's like she has no sense of autonomy anymore––and that is saying something for a person who had grow under another's thumb.

She's thankful that Inna is taking care of all the swift remarks, because she does not have the spoons for this. She falls back onto the bed once the maid has left with her hands over her face as she elicits something of a groan. "Just, like, fucking kill me, you know? This is getting so fucking ridiculous!" She's not exactly enticed by the promise of a feast––she's had fancy banquet dinners before and to be perfectly honest the only good thing about them is the food and alcohol. The rest? Fantasies of shoving some heiress' heads into a toilet and giving them swirlys remerge, if that gives you any indication about how much she enjoys these things.

Still, dutiful, a rule follower, and since they are back on track with saving the world and no longer ditching their responsibilities to eat gelato at some café, she resigns herself to entertaining whatever else is happening. If it turns out to be stupid or some ploy? Well, she's pretty sure that now that her and Inna are actively working together they can just destroy the entire mansion and whatever weird harem exists here. She kind of does believe they're that powerful––and that's not even in reference to their most recent victory. The way she sees it, if they were still able to defeat a kraken while irritated with one another there must be so much untapped potential when they actually care to work together. She voices this too, "If it turns out to be some weird cult, I say you burn this place to the ground and I'll make some monster to eat them."

She swings her legs over the side of the bed and opens the wardrobe to see if she'd even like whatever form of dress is available. That may also decide whether or not she wants to attend, because Liora Trihn will not be seen dressed like a damn fool. She flips through the outfits, idly. "So were you a masseuse before joining Chett's sorry excuse for an organized crime syndicate?" You know, since she claimed to give the best back massages. It's not like Liora is going to turn that down, but it's also not like she would let just an unqualified person touch her. "Ugh, my last masseuse must have been born for the role; she wasn't scared to really dig in, y'know?"

She picks out a few dresses and a couple suits from the wardrobe and lays them out on the bed, tapping her finger against her chin as she debates whether or not she even likes any of these. At least they are not as revealing as that maid's outfit––that would have definitely resulted in her rejecting the invitation. They all actually resemble dresses that could be found on the red carpet or perhaps cotillion; again, boring events in the grand scheme of things, but the memories do come flooding back to her whether they are wanted or not. Mostly memories of arguing with her mother right before the event over something nonsensical like the color lipstick she had been wearing or how her hair wasn't perfect. She chews on her bottom lip then wipes the scenes from the forefront of her mind; these used to be locked up tight in her mindscape, but ever since that lesson with Declan she keeps returning to her past.

As she looks over the outfits, Declan lands on her shoulder, "That one looks nice," she points to only dress that isn't black (it's a deep shade of red). "What do you think, Inna? What should Vie wear?" (The owl may or may not be very hurt by Inna's earlier glare and may or may not be actively working on getting back on her good side by facilitating some healthy interactions between the two women. Just as she and Haenel had done earlier with their "lessons.")

 

[Syntra]

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Inna would like to ask... well, several questions, actually, but one of them seemed especially relevant now. So, here it goes: When the fuck had this turned into one of those cheesy renditions of the goddamn Cinderella?! (Yeah, yeah, there technically wasn't a prince, and thank the gods for that. There also wasn't a Fairy Godmother-- if you didn't count Declan, that was, which she sure as fuck didn't. The disturbing lack of glitter flew in the face of the established lore! ...and, um, now that she thought of it, the stepsisters were also kinda missing from the picture. Okay, fine! Most elements were missing, actually, but hey, that certainly wasn't going to stop Inna. The main idea still applied, you know? The idea of a poor girl receiving a fancy dress, and going to a banquet. ...pffft! This particular combination of words, in this particular order, seemed fucking hilarious-- at least when used to describe the two of them. Like, hahaha! Who cared about this snobbish bullshit, right? 'A great celebration' her ass, really. A glorified kidnapping, that was what this was, and what did that mean? That they weren't obligated to follow any of these stupid rules. Duh! Like, would you expect a robbery victim to give you a fucking warranty list on the stolen goods? No? Then fuck off with your unreasonable nonsense, fuckers! The most Inna was willing to do was to wrap herself in one of those expensive-looking curtains-- mostly because she wanted to see the snooty expression on the """Mistress'""" face. Liora could do the same, and... huh.)

...huh, indeed, because Liora seemed to be taking this seriously. What?! Had her companion never heard of, like, dignity? Or of not negotiating with fucking terrorists? Yeah, yeah, what the maid had said sounded kinda benign, but why should they believe a single word of that? Hellooo, this was still a kidnapping! And, as a rule, kidnappers generally didn't harbor good intentions towards their victims. Inna would know, and not just because this job could be found in her work history-- nah, she mostly knew because she liked to use her fucking brain, dammit! (Also, wasn't that supposed to be Liora's role? Because Inna didn't feel comfortable with it. No, the blonde was there to be sexy and make all those cool, spontaneous decisions that wouldn't look out of place in an action flick, not to - eww - think. If someone caught her thinking, the damage to her reputation would be irreparable!)

(...and maybe, just maybe some of her discomfort stemmed from the fact that she had never worn a fancy dress before. What was worse, it seemed that Liora had! Which meant that she knew how to do it, and Inna didn't, and, uh, she didn't like that cursed, cursed configuration. What if she made a fool out of herself? An even bigger fool than usual, to be precise? Because, yeah, Inna did enjoy being a clown, but under her own fucking terms only. Being made fun of for lacking certain knowledge didn't really fall into that category!)

"No," Inna shook her head, still somewhat stunned. "No, I'm just... enthusiastic about making people feel good, I guess. Sometimes. But anyway, I've only ever had positive references." From the girls she had seduced, but hey, those counted, too, right? If a newbie in the field wanted to gain some references, they had to work for free in this capitalist hellscape! So, nothing suspicious to see here-- nuh uh.

"Looks nice, I guess," Inna said, her voice full of... well, something uncharacteristic. Fear? Doubts? Shocking, but true! The insecure vibe she was giving off was only supported by the way she hugged herself, entirely subconsciously. "I, um. I bet red's your color." Was that what you were supposed to say in these situations? (Not that Inna thought it was true, mind you-- as far as she knew, her colleague didn't have the color fucking copyrighted. Not how these laws worked, pal! ...well, that, and Liora would look good even in a potato sack, so why bother with something this elaborate? Just to flaunt that you could afford it? Marx would be reduced to fucking tears!)

"But, are we seriously doing this?" Inna raised her eyebrow, hoping it made her look more... dunno, confident. (Spoiler alert: no, it fucking didn't. It was hard to look confident with your lower lip trembling!) "I-- I mean, isn't it ridiculous to give in to their demands? For all we know, it's some weeb with weeby tastes! Which would, by the way, explain the fucking maid. And I don't give a fuck about what is and isn't appropriate when we were essentially kidnapped. Remember? Yeah, that's still a thing. Nine out of ten professionals support not collaborating with your kidnappers," Inna prattled on, not even caring whether what she was saying made any kind of sense at this point. Saying something was enough, right? "I think torching the place is a reasonable fucking plan. The mansion looks like the owners don't know what to do with their money, anyway. So, some repairs could help with that dilemma! A-and besides, I, umm, I've never worn a dress," the blonde admitted, her ears red. "I'd kill myself, I'm pretty sure."

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉
​

Liora isn't thrilled that Declan asked Inna for her opinion, but since she has the woman is only left with this odd sense of... not dread or fear, but some form of electric current that makes her heart beat much faster than the recommended 60 to 100 beats per minute. This can't be healthy and, at the same time, she is curious about the blonde's opinion. Maybe, just maybe, there is a teeny tiny Liora inside of herself that even wants this opinion. For what purpose? That is yet to be determined, but anyone with experience could tell you that she might want to appear desirable for the blonde. An odd notion, a completely new notion too, so that's probably why she doesn't place it just yet and instead just gives Inna what she thinks is an inquisitive look, but it may or may not come off as judgmental. Like, if you screw this up I will never in a million years ever forgive you. (Probably because accepting anyone's opinion or feedback other than her own is so uncharacteristic for the woman she does not know how to play any of this off as normal.)

Evidently, though, she agrees with both the owl and Inna. Mostly Inna. She stacks the other outfits on top of each other and goes to put them away, not yet noticing her partner's obvious discomfort with the whole situation. "Yeah, you're right." Besides, it's been a while since she has worn anything colorful. The woman practically looks as if she is ready to attend a funeral at a moments notice with all the black in her regular wardrobe. "The embroidery work on that one is pretty aesthetic as well." Again, still mostly in a world of her own she pops into the master bathroom and rummages through the drawers to see if they've also been supplied with make-up––which, they have!

When she comes back out, she finally notices Inna's posture. It is so unlike the blonde that she knows, she wonders if, somehow, her soul got exchanged for someone else's when they landed back in the present. Except, then she remembers all those other classic Inna remarks from only moments ago and starts to put some puzzle pieces together. What she says also confirms this weird hypothesis that the great Inna Orlovskaya is nervous. And honestly? Once the picture comes together, she almost wants to wrap the woman in a strong embrace and tell her that it's fine. But she resists that weird foreign urge and settles on encouraging words. "First of all, I don't know what a weeb is," she admits. (Vaguely a conversation with her sister comes back to her, but as with so many of those memories she has replaced Sol's actual words with the sound the adults make in Charlie Brown––you know, wah wah wah wah wah wah.) "Second, I'd be open to ditching this, but the last time we tried that resulted in us getting shot back a thousand centuries. Plus, if they kidnapped us who's to say they won't try that again? I'd rather see what this Mistress lady is up to and face her head on, right now. Also, this is clearly a historical villa––like Medici level historical––so I'm sure they've spent their money exactly the way they want to," she shrugs.

As she walks back over to the wardrobe, she gives Inna's arm a passing squeeze, one that is so brief and odd you might even wonder if it actually happened. She fingers through the outfits and pulls out a few different options for Inna. One's that, yes, she does think the blonde will look good in and even already knows what she'll look like in them because her imagination is that good. (When it comes to this type of visualization, apparently.) "I'd stay away from bright warm tones, if I were you––it won't compliment your complexion... I think you're more of cool summer, so muted blues, greens, and dark purples are pretty safe. But if I'm wearing red, then you should go with blue or purple. Red and green are the worst complimentary colors, in my opinion." Though, she does think Inna would look killer green... She waves that image away and holds up two dresses to Inna's face; one a deep purple and the other a soft blue. "Black, obviously, is safe too."

She sets them aside. "There are also suits in there if you don't want to wear a dress and again, I'd stick with the same color palette." Hmm, it must be the Italian sun getting to her and the way it's hitting all this gold is definitely why she feels hot all of sudden. 'Fuck.' Ah, the image of Inna in a suit is just as hot as the image of her in a dress. "Anyway, it's also not like this is a debutante ball––thank fucking goodness––because that at least means there's no expectation to fucking dance." She always hated those. But at least smashing people's feet when they got too annoying or touchy had been a fun option. "It's really not that scary––you'll be fine. They're just clothes. You're still Inna fucking Orlovskaya underneath them," her tone is warm and possibly even comforting, if anyone is even brave enough to use that description for the woman who is a notorious ice queen.

"And, like..." She chews on the corner of her lip, debating this next line. "I'll help you. We're a team, now, remember? I, um, kind of like being on your team, too." Okay, that's the last fucking time Liora Trihn ever ad-libs! What a horrible fucking experience and she is not even dignified enough to think to take it back. Where is Alessia and her weird ability to teleport people back to the past? Maybe she can teleport Liora to, you know, the moment she was born so that she can just end her suffering before it ever began? ...Of course, she will never be so lucky and so she sits with that admittance. Even if true, it is not something she had meant to say out loud. To Inna. Her entire face is red at this point and she quickly turns around to hide her shame. "Uh, so, so––like which dress do you even like? Because it's important to like what you're wearing. It helps you feel confident."

 

[Syntra]

Oh, god. Oh, fuck. As Liora demolished all of her arguments systematically, Inna came to a startling realization-- her colleague was taking this seriously. Seriously enough, in fact, to force her into one of those scary, scary dresses! (...okay, okay, that was a dramatic way to put it. So fucking what, though? Being kidnapped and expected to attend a party that may or may not have been a part of some shady ritual bullshit was pretty dramatic, so when you looked at it from this angle, Inna was just following the conventions of the genre!) "I mean, the fuckers can try?" the blonde shrugged. "We wouldn't be unconscious this time, so I kinda doubt they could pull it off again. And, like, this is so fucking irresponsible! What kind of message are we sending by caving to their bullshit demands? That it's okay to kidnap people if you want something from them? This will be the end of our society as we fucking know it. It may seem innocent now, sure, but just wait a few weeks! Soon enough, everything will be... uh..." What, exactly? This scenario was too wild even for Inna to spin out of thin air, it seemed, and so she paused-- the cogwheels were turning in her brain almost visibly, and so fast that steam was practically rising out of her ears. "...fucked," Inna finally settled on. "Money will become obsolete, and we'll switch to a new economy based on, uh, kidnappings. You want some fucking bread? Just kidnap the baker's daughter! Your fridge stopped working? Kidnap the repair guy's dog and threaten to call him a bad boy. That's exactly how it will turn out, and it will be our goddamn fault. The blood will be on our hands, princess!" ...wow, Inna really was a genius. How many people would be able to come up with such a convincing vision within seconds? Not many, the blonde would wager. Perhaps she should become a politician, or, better yet-- the leader of a revolution, liberating the proletariat from its shackles. ...hmm, hmm. Maybe as a side gig.

Liora, however, didn't seem to be interested in her excu... extremely valid complaints. Wow, just wow! Such an insightful analysis, it seemed, was completely fucking wasted on her colleague. Next time, Inna would just keep her observations to herself, and Liora would be left to wander the world in total ignorance, and-- um. Wait a goddamn second. Was she comforting her? Like, comforting... comforting, not mock comforting? If any levels of sarcasm were present, its concentration was too low for her radar to pick up on, because the blonde only heard concern. Um. That was... new? (Inna couldn't really remember people talking to her like that, or at least not recently. Admissions of inexperience usually led to insults, or awkward silence, or general unpleasantness, really, and to discover that she could lean on Liora? That she could do it without the woman fucking tripping her legs? It felt nice, kind of. Nice in that strange, 'wow-I-have-been-searching-for-this-feeling-without-knowing-it' way-- a deja vu that had never happened, or something like that. ...or maybe it had, but to Ivy? Whatever, man. For some reason, the name tasted bitter in her mouth, and Inna didn't feel like exploring why. ...something about it would ruin them, she knew that. It would ruin them, and this was far too good to ruin, and the blonde just didn't want that. Nothing wrong with closing her eyes to the truth for the rest of her life, right? Self-reflection was for suckers, anyway!)

"Thanks," Inna muttered, her voice barely louder than a whisper. (It still felt strange to say these words, you know? 'Thanks' and 'please' and 'hello' that wasn't followed by 'you stupid motherfuckers'. Despite that, she kinda felt she owed it to Liora, and so she tried her best. That had to suffice!) Apparently willing to give the dresses a chance, the blonde glanced at the collection. "Cool... summer?" What the fuck did that mean? Could Liora possibly be calling her cool? Jumping to that interpretation was tempting, but somehow, it didn't seem correct. "Sounds like a fucking branch of science," she complained. "Like, how am I supposed to know if I'm cool summer or hot autumn or french fries dipped in mayonnaise? Which is the worst fucking combination ever, by the way. Team ketchup here." Pertinent information to be sure, but it helped her to keep her cool, you see? To prattle on and on and on, and drown her worries in the flood of thoughts. Still, that didn't mean she wasn't paying attention-- she was, because multitasking, motherfuckers, and so Liora's words didn't escape her.

"Ah. Um. I... like it as well? Which is a goddamn plot twist, but yeah," Inna flashed her one of her sweetest smiles, suddenly a lot more confident. (The praise? It helped her to soar, man. Hmm, oh yes, give me that sweet, sweet validation!) "Hmmm, let's see." Inna walked closer to the dresses Liora had picked for her, and caressed the fabric-- for her to feel good in it, the material had to feel pleasant, thank you very much. None of that itchy bullshit! An expression of utter fucking concentration appeared on her face, mostly because when Inna Orlovskaya decided to take something seriously, she meant it, and then...

"This one. I like this one, I think. Seems like it won't make me look like a complete clown." When she turned to face her colleague, Inna was holding a purple dress-- it was long and flowy, the type you'd expect a princess to wear, and, um. That might actually be a problem, now that she thought of it. "Ah. Maybe... maybe not," she stuttered, her cheeks almost as red as Liora's, "I wouldn't know how to put it on. I mean, this is fucking ridiculous. Look at all the straps! Where do you even begin? Do these things come with a manual, kinda like IKEA furniture? Haha! I... um. Would you help me?" Inna suddenly blurted out. (And the prospect of Liora's hands brushing against her naked skin, all soft and gentle? That almost ended her right there, alright. Right fucking there!) "To put it on," she soldiered through it regardless. "I don't want to... tear it, I guess."

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉
​

Inna is an idiot. This isn't a new revelation for Liora. Usually it comes with a disgusted feeling, but right now she somewhat finds it... entertaining? Endearing? if she lets her thoughts linger on this subject for too long, but the main take away is that she is not annoyed with Inna's senseless justifications for what will happen if they go to this feast. "Only twenty-five percent of what you said is valid. We probably shouldn't eat the food or drink the wine until we know it's not poisoned or enchanted," because they should start thinking about magical threats too. "But running away won't solve anything––like doesn't the idea of potentially slaying this Mistress figure kind of excite you?" Liora isn't opposed to the idea––killing things is an effective way of getting rid of an enemy. Not running away from them. Inna should know this, but she also remembers that she is a grade-A slacker. 'Whatever. I'm not.'

Instead of replying to Inna's comment about her ideal color palette, she just smiles. It's cute how confused she is and for once in her life she isn't using this as opportunity to prove how much better she is than everyone else (specifically Inna, in this case). It doesn't even occur to her to call the blonde stupid for not knowing how to find her color using semi-proper jargon. Also, Liora is surprised to see Inna taking this seriously and considering the options she had laid out instead of, you know, throwing them out the window or setting them on fire (as seems to be her potential new go-to). She even claps her hands together when she selects the purple one, her eyes possibly doing something close to a star-eyed gaze. "That one would look nice on you," again, she's already envisioned it for herself. "A real Princess Charming, to be honest."

What she had not envisioned or considered, however, is the getting ready part once they have selected their respective outfits. A foreign sickness takes over her stomach and she can feel the heat flooding across her face––like a fever, because she doesn't know any better. The idea of helping Inna get ready... The idea of, um, touching her, because she knows that is unavoidable, sends a spark through her veins and now she is starting to walk back on the notion that this is a good idea. Because it has made her sick. Clearly, she should listen to her body and stay in for the evening and not attend the feast. But she doesn't do that––something in her prevents that; some part of her that is nervous, yes, but the kind of nervous you get before plummeting to your death on some insane roller coaster (excited). "Yeah," she finally squeaks out––higher pitched than she had meant to but for some reason the sharp edge in her usual tone is gone. She clears her throat, trying to get it back. "Y-yeah, I can help." Her eyes are so wide they might get mistaken for UFOs. "I'll probably need some help too––these stupid things can be really hard..."

"I can do your hair and make-up too," she blurts out before she can even stop herself. "Like, if you want. I'm sure you're capable, I'm not trying to insult you or anything––but, but," but what? She pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a signature deep breath to settle her nerves. "I just thought it could be nice." Now, nice is rarely a word that Liora uses and rarely one she assigns to herself––her doing something nice is so alien she really might be a cyborg. Yet the idea of playing with her hair is appealing for some distant reason. (A dangerous reason, actually, connected to a three letter name that she begrudgingly realizes is her own too.)

"So, like, you could... Change here––I don't mind," and she really doesn't! What is there to be so scared of? It's like the girl's locker room all over again and if she had survived that from middle school through high school, and then at the gym, she can certainly handle it now. This is Inna after all. Her former colleague, forever partner. A new friend. Nothing to be scared of. "I like won't look––I–I'm not like a perv or anything. (Please kill me.)" If she could somehow shut herself up, she would. Where is the spell for that when you need it? "There's also the bathroom. And you can let me know, um, wh-when you need some assistance." This just in! A new renewable energy source has just been discovered and it's called Liora's perpetual embarrassment.

 

[Syntra]

The blonde pursed her lips, suddenly all pouty. Like, what? Was Liora accusing her, the great Inna Orlovskaya, of cowardice? The same Inna, who had once emailed her daily schedule along with an invitation to join her to some second-rate assassin hired to kill her? That didn't fucking check out, man! "I'm not suggesting we run away," she muttered, unwilling to abandon the premise of always being right even if she had technically agreed to go to the stupid party already. "Just thought we might kill her without going along with this... this bullshit. Who the hell even wants to dress up for a dinner, anyway? Is this like, an adrenaline junkie thing? Avoiding all these opportunities to spill some fucking sauce on this outrageously expensive dress does look like something that could get your blood pressure up, if you ask me. And, besides!" Inna went on and on, apparently not needed to, you know, breathe and the like. (...huh. Maybe she had been the true demon all along? An interesting fucking theory-- one that the blonde would explore in-depth once she was in the mood for some good, old existential dread.) "Running away from your problems is a completely valid strategy. In this line of business, we call it 'strategic retreat'. Retreat long enough, and your problems will run out of steam! That is just basic science, princess. The law of conservation of energy, or some nonsense like that. Basically, you usually create your problems out of your own fucking dumbassery-- which means its energy reserves are finite. They can't create fuel out of thin air! Nah, they run on what you gave them. Now, you can get new energy from food or mocking your enemies or... compliments, I guess? So, you'll always have more of it. There's literally no fucking reason not to spend that energy on running," Inna finally concluded. "Those who discount it are just propaganda victims." (Checkmate, science deniers! ...seriously, though. Just, how awesome was she, to be able to formulate such advanced hypotheses with no academic background? Clearly, god himself had robbed her of the opportunity to actually attend a university-- because, had Inna gone there, it would have been over for that bitch.)

When Liora praised her choice of dress, though? Her face lit up with a smile, as bright as... uh, neon lights? Or the sun? But not nearly as aggressive, so maybe both of those comparisons sucked. (Looked, don't blame her. Liora had just fucking complimented her, okay? Her brain was too busy pumping endorphins into her system, so go to hell with concepts like 'coherence' or 'making a lick of sense'! Just, Jesus Christ. Who knew her heart could beat this fast without straight up shooting blood out of her fucking nose? ...yet another thing anime had been lying to her about, by the way. Wow, wow, wow! Could Inna believe anything in this shit world if even her beloved cartoons were being insincere? Like, what was next? Discovering that thirteen year olds in Japan weren't routinely left to fend for themselves because their parents worked overseas, or something?)

...now, wait a fucking minute. Was Liora nervous? Nervous, and not in the 'shit-I-forgot-to-turn-off-the-stove' way, but more like 'fuck-she's-hot' style? Inna would hate to be presumptuous, of course, but her radar was good at picking these things up-- scarily good, even, because literally everything the blonde invested some semblance of effort into went smoothly for her, thank you very much. Ah, the curse of being too good! (Admittedly, though, Liora also wasn't making it hard for her. Maybe she thought she was being subtle, given her alien/cyborg/demonic ways, but frankly? She might as well have been shouting it from the rooftops, with that adorable stuttering and blushing and... um. Had she just called Liora adorable in her thoughts? The same Liora, whom she had wanted to fucking strangle not too long ago? Also, also, were those butterflies in her stomach? Okay, Inna was just officially not in charge of her body anymore! She wasn't sure who was, mind you, sooo you could mail all of your Inna-related complaints to the god, or something. Not that Inna-related complaints had any fucking right to exist in the first place, but still!)

So, anyway. Liora promised that she 'won't look,' right? Somehow, it felt both considerate and infuriating-- the duality of Inna, she guessed. For some reason, though, the infuriating bit seemed to be... a bit stronger, actually? Like, 70% vs. 30% kind of thing. Hmm, hmm. That meant she had to do something about it, didn't it? Because this kind of """balance""" simply wouldn't do! She wants to play a fucking girl scout, then? We'll see about that, the blonde vowed in her head, her eyes shining with the level of resolve that was unseen since the fall of Carthage. (Oh, she'd make her look, alright. It shouldn't even be hard, mind you-- not stealing a few glances at someone as hot as Inna would be like, uh... like being offered ice-cream and saying no. Like, what kind of fucking lunatic would reject that?)

"I'm thinking I'll do it here," Inna said, smiling from ear to ear. "I mean, I never know when I'm going to need help! Better play it safe instead of, you know, attempting some gymnastics in the fucking bathroom and cracking my head open against the sink." Now, normally, the blonde undressed herself in the same way snakes shed their skin-- piles of clothes usually remained on the floor like breadcrumbs, tracing the trajectory of her movements in the apartment till she decided it was time to actually wash them. And she tended to do it swiftly, too! 'Cause getting home meant entering comfy mode, dammit, which was something she couldn't wait to do. At the moment, though? Inna took her sweet, sweet time.

She sat on the bed, seemingly fully focused on her task, and began to take off her trousers-- the pace was agonizingly slow, and she, uh, may have caressed her thighs a bit to draw Liora's attention where it fucking should be, god dammit. (The sound that escaped her lips? It resembled a moan, but plausible deniability was a thing, so, haha, suckers! Try actually proving it.) Also, before she discarded her T-shirt? All good things required buildup, so Inna let it slip low enough to reveal her shoulders before doing anything with it-- accidentally, of course, because she was just so hellbent on removing the jeans. (Too bad she couldn't just let it fall to the ground like that-- stupid T-shirts with their stupid, unimaginative designs. Still, having to pull it over her head gave her the justification to fix her hair with her hands, which could be pretty... aesthetic as well! Especially if she also bit her lip while making eye contact with Liora, which... damn. Damn, damn, damn! Her cheeks filled with heat immediately, and in that moment, Inna lowkey felt like dying. Who had thought this to be a good idea, again? Some brain parasite, undoubtedly, because such a plan couldn't possibly have been born in her mind.

Now wearing underwear only, Inna grabbed the dress and put it over her head-- only to discover that, yeah, you'd have to be a fucking gymnast to reach the zipper. "Um," she looked over her shoulder, her eyes oh-so-innocent, "help me, Liora?"

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉
​

What––just what is Inna doing? And why is Liora staring? (Blatantly, too.) It’s as if she cannot look away, like when watching some nerd get horribly rejected by her crush! Except this is not like that at all, because where the latter usually inspired some secondhand embarrassment on the nerd’s behalf... This is something closer to firsthand embarrassment. Like she is the nerd (not that Inna is her crush and not that she is being rejected). That thought is horrendous on its own, because Liora doesn't regard herself that way––nerds are pathetic and she is not. But Jesus fucking Christ, why does she feel this odd heat in the pit of her stomach? That's... never really happened to her (not that she can recall, at least). She doesn't even realize that she is holding her breath, like just breathing could shatter the illusion in front of her; like there's no way that Inna is really performing a fucking strip-tease right in front of her very eyes! That would be ludicrous! That would be insane––

That would be totally like Inna, actually. For what purpose she is doing this remains a complete mystery to the dark haired woman. The only thing she really knows is that her fists are tightly balled at her side and her face may be a new shade of red not yet discovered by the human eye. She is trying to pull her gaze away, but all hope on that front is lost when Inna moans. (Why does that sound so pleasant? Why does she wonder what it would be like to have that noise pressed right up against her ear... Why does she wonder if Inna's legs are as smoo––'No! What the fuck!' That's so indecent, even if Inna is more or less giving her imagination the invitation to create some suggestive images of them together. It's unfathomable to her that any of those images can ever be realized, because, because, because––well, because they used to hate each other! Inna is just doing this because she's Inna and Inna does things that rarely ever make sense to Liora. So just pack those fantasies right up and put them in their appropriate locked file cabinet. Never. to. be. touched. again.)

But speaking of touching, apparently she's going to have to do that to assist the blonde––right after said blonde has held her eye contact for longer than she thinks is necessary and has forced her to imagine what it would be like to be the one biting her lip; it doesn't even matter that she looks embarrassed afterwards––Liora hardly notices that (and she usually notices everything).

She blinks and swallows hard, somewhat broken from her spellbound trance. It’s then that she starts to breathe again, and she reasons that the lack of oxygen probably inspired all those inappropriate thoughts about her undeniably sexy partner. 'Shut up!!!' She clears her throat and whispers out, "Yeah, yeah––that's what I'm here for..." And ever so slowly approaches the blonde as if this is some trick that will disappear from her grasp the moment she lays hand on the zipper. First, she starts by straightening out the dress, adjusting it so that it is correctly positioned; then she gingerly places one hand on Inna's waist––she really had looked for other areas to put her hand but the waist is just so convenient! Why would the human body be shaped that way if it isn't meant for hands trying gain leverage when zipping up a dress! (God, she could really use some fucking water.) She tugs on the zipper and it flies up with ease. She then adjusts the shoulder straps before stepping around the front to take a look at Inna.

In which, she loses the ability to breathe once more. A spell cast on her that leaves her completely dazzled—something she hadn’t thought possible and yet, here she is. Her mouth might be slightly agape before she it occurs to her that she's obviously ogling and she quickly gathers herself. Barely. "Y-yeah, yeah, that looks about how I imagined––totally, stunning... I can't believe you were scared to put one of these on." Thankfully, she's able to stop her motor-mouth before it gets her into any more trouble. There is an attempt to calm her nerves, but none of her usual tricks are working since this is an entirely new experience for her (that is, being nervous because of another person––a person that isn't her mother, a person she does not find totally threatening (well she does find Inna threatening for different reasons that are related to how she makes her feel and that's an entirely different kind of threat). There are a lot of new pieces for her to juggle with).

She steps back, chewing on the inside of her lip as she goes back to staring––being entirely useless. Though when that specific thought occurs to her, she immediately begins shuffling around the room to find useful things to do. "Honestly, you could just go as you are and still kill everyone in the room, I'm sure, but I was thinking your hair might look nice if it were pulled away from your face and then a light shimmer gloss would be nice too... Maybe some highlighter. Ugh, if the bitch had given us more time I’d paint your nails too..." Wow, it is getting really hard for Liora to concentrate as she imagines the blonde completely done up––as if her current look isn't already destroying her. Maybe she shouldn't be offering to do Inna's hair and make up? But if she stops distracting herself with tasks, she will be forced to stare at her Inna Her Partner in Crime/Saving the World and she simply cannot afford to do that. It's making her eyes sting like staring at the Sun for too long.

"Um, uh––what do you think? About that?"

 

[Syntra]

Inna, of course, knew that Liora was about to adjust her dress-- mainly since she had fucking asked her for it, duh. Communication, bitches! Ask and ye shall receive, and shit. She needed the help, too, because the dress had apparently been designed as a metaphorical 'fuck you' to the very concept of practicality-- Inna's humble estimate was that you'd need, like, a small army of servants to tie all those... uhh, fabric-y things in under an hour. (Disgusting, by the way! Honest killers had to risk their very freedom every fucking day just to collect a check that wasn't all that great, to be honest, and yet there were apparently people who lived Like This. Clearly, if Fate existed, it was a bourgeois collaborator and deserved the greatest guillotine of all! ...hmmm. How to get to it it, though? Presumably, it resided somewhere in the heavens-- you know, so that it had a good view and could laugh at them all while munching on popcorn, or something. Should they build the Babylon of guillotines, then? Like, start from the ground and add to it till they finally reached the fucker? Ah, the philosophical issues Inna grappled with every single day! The world wasn't ready for her mind, truly.) Anyway, yeah, letting Liora help was totally reasonable-- not a single flaw in that plan, nuh uh. ...except that, you know, this meant her colleague would have to get close. Freakishly fucking close, in fact. Somehow, her brain had bypassed that part of the equation completely, and, uh. Suddenly, Liora was touching her? Help???

(Seeing this as more than it was was stupid, Inna knew. Stupid with capital fucking S, and multiple exclamation marks, and, yes, it was written in bold text as well. Liora couldn't not help her, you see? Because if Inna showed up looking like a total fucking clown, it would reflect badly on her as well, and Perfect Little Miss Liora couldn't have that. Couldn't, couldn't, couldn't! ...still, the heat radiating from her hands? The way it seeped into her skin, and set it on fire? That was real. So, so real, in fact, that Inna couldn't help giving a sad, pathetic little whimper-- another moan, really, but much less scripted. Another thing she failed at, and quite dramatically at that, was preventing her imagination from, uh, incorporating certain creative edits. ...you know how Liora was helping her to dress herself? Well, let's just say that her brain added the un- prefix to the verb, for ReasonsTM. Instead of pulling the zipper up, the Liora that lived in her head pulled it down. She bared her shoulders first, but that wasn't enough, it sure as fuck wasn't, so she pulled some more, and the stupid dress fell on the floor and then, oh... then Inna could feel her lips on her neck, biting, which-- whew. Yup, that wasn't a safe topic. Not a safe topic at all!)

As if wanting to chase those thoughts away, Inna shook her head-- needless to say, though, it didn't fucking work! Especially since Liora looked so obviously... shit, the blonde refused to believe she was actually going to use that word, but yeah, enamored. Enamored with her, mind you. (Wow, wow, wow! Never before had she thought she'd get to say these words that without adding 'with the prospect of killing' in the middle of that sentence, but here they fucking were. Here they fucking were! ...stunning. Liora Trihn had called her stunning, without a hint of irony. Inna thought so as well, of course, but hearing it from her lips hit different. Like a fucking truck, but... pleasant as well, somehow? As far as collisions with trucks went, anyway. ...shit, could this mean she should wave her brain cells goodbye? 'Cause her thoughts turned into jelly all of a sudden, and despite not being a neurologist, the blonde kinda assumed this wasn't supposed to happen. Fuck, fuck, fuck!)

"Thank you," Inna smiled regardless, in a way that must have looked entirely stupid. All that make-up and hair talk went over her head, but... hmmm. Maybe she could use this to her advantage? Emboldened by her colleague's reactions, the blonde wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled her a little closer, her lips curling up in a mischievous smile. "Sure. I trust your judgment. Not like I understand any of that, so I'll defer to your, umm, expertise. Feel free to do whatever you want with me, Liora." And the way she said her name now? Oh, that was a far cry from all those previous accidents-- it was full of purpose, and sweetness as well. (Gentle, almost. A caress, but one done with her lips, not her hands. Although... yeah, it was safe to say Inna could image more exciting things she could do to Liora with her lips. A lot more exciting things, actually!)

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

The tiny Liora that controls the daily scheduling and activities for the coporeal Liora is quickly reviewing all of her notes to figure out just when she had stepped into this current alternate reality. It happened sometime in the morning, that is for sure––sometime after that lesson with their sword instructors when they had gone for gelato. Yes, that's about when Liora started to feel strange––so strange, in fact, that she hardly recognizes anything that is happening around her; it's not quite an out of body experience, because having a couple of those literally under her belt, she knows she is still intimately in contact with herself. Still, the experience and everything happening is so foreign to her she may as well be on another planet! One where the lifeforms are arsenic based, because she does feel like she is dying.

Despite the discomfort, she can't say that it isn't also exciting. Where she usually can hide so much of herself through her general hostilities, there is something freeing about letting go of the thick, nearly impenetrable facade. Especially for Inna. Who is giving her the dopiest grin on the planet and if she hadn't looped her arms around her neck and pulled her closer, Liora might have toppled over. Instead she hides her face by looking anywhere except for Inna's face (which is a challenge given the sudden close proximity––it's also impressive that she's chosen to forget about the concept of object permanence, because looking away from her doesn't mean she isn't any less real!). And it's especially hard for her not to crumble when Inna says her name like that. (Also, what's up with the suggestiveness in her tone? And what exactly is she suggesting, because it doesn't seem like she's talking just about her hair and make-up anymore.) As shell-shocked as ever, as seems to be her new baseline, she simply nods and leads the blonde into the bathroom and sets her down in front of the vanity. (Which, damn––as if Inna doesn't already shine on her own, the prime selfie-lighting in the bathroom really accentuates her... everything.)

"Make-up is kind of bullshit, to be honest," she mumbles as she pulls out supplies from the drawers. None of the brands are ones that she recognizes, in fact there is something odd about them that she can't quite place, but when she opens the liquid foundation, she realizes a couples of things: (1) these are supplied make-ups, so matching skintone might be an issue and (2) the liquid foundation appears clear? Her brows knit together and she swipes some onto the back of her hand. The liquid shimmers for a moment and then settles into a shade that matches her own. 'Wow the first fucking useful magic thing we've discovered and it's fucking make-up. At least it's not a talking fucking mascara brush.' She then dabs some onto Inna's face––doing her best to concentrate on her own actions than the fact that she is touching Inna's fucking face and holy shit is her skin soft. She clears her throat, "I remember my sister asking me how to do winged eyeliner once and she just could not fucking get it," she makes the story sound sweeter than it is, because in reality Liora had laughed at Sol's disastrous first attempt, and told her something like, 'You look like the child of a raccoon––are you an idiot? Can you not follow simple instructions?'

Anyway, she ends up settling on a neutral look for Inna, since she figures that matches the blonde's personality more. And while it is extremely difficult for her to concentrate while applying the light shimmer gloss to her lips, because she may or may not have had an urge to kiss her for non-medical reasons, she persists. And, of course, being Liora, the look produced is flawless in execution. (Probably because she spent an entire summer learning how to do make-up so she wouldn't be a pariah at school.) "There, all done––um, I'll just... Let you admire yourself and go get ready."

Quickly, before she can make herself look any more foolish by ogling at her partner, she dashes off back into the bedroom and picks her own dress up from the bed. She debates warning Inna that she is going to strip, but she also kind of imagines that Inna might spend time checking herself out since she is somewhat conceited (or rightfully confident). Plus, there is a part of her that might not mind if she sees her––after all, the blonde had more or less teased her only moments ago and it's not that she wants revenge but she may want to get even? Though, maybe that's a bold assumption that the blonde is even interested. She's pretty sure the only reason she's being so nice as of late is because they both have yet to return to their usual bitchy ways. So the alliance feels fragile even if she knows it's getting stronger with each passing second where they refrain from hurling insults at one another. She sighs and sweeps her hands through her hair as she undresses––in haste too. She steps into the red pool on the floor and pulls the dress up.

It's a flowy dress, similar to Inna's and made out of a semi-sheer fabric. While it does not have a deep V-plunge and it's not backless or strapless, it definitely invites the imagination to wonder with areas that are a bit more see-through than others. Her torso is especially revealing, really only hiding the areas that would get her fined for public indecency. Technically, she hadn't realized how revealing the fabric is until she put it on and, well, she doesn't feel like changing. "Inna, can you help me?" There are some ties around the neck and one around the waist that she can probably do on her own, but she wants Inna's help.

 

[Syntra]

So, okay. Wanna know one of the lesser known facts about the awesome Inna Orlovskaya? Among other things, she also happened to be a leading expert on flirting-- pick up """artists""" all over the world would fucking cry their eyes out when confronted with their own incompetence, contrasted by her... competence... Okay, so that comparison didn't work out, but so fucking what? It got the message across, and that was a goddamn rarity in this postmodern madness of 'do words mean things, tho.' (Just, why?? Philosophy as a field had been discredited ages ago, so it wasn't like her contemporaries had to dance on its grave to drive the point home, or something. In Inna's book, the last valid philosopher had been Diogenes, so like, everyone else could just go home. Man, imagine being so disconnected from fucking reality that you thought you could top his trolling. The arrogance! The hubris!) But, anyway. The reason Inna felt the need to clarify her credentials? Well, as a Leading ExpertTM, she was convinced this couldn't be a coincidence. The touches, and the smalltalk, and, um, the way she dared to exist around her without being completely fucking annoying? That was flirting, baby. Clearly, no other options existed!

(Distantly, of course, Inna was aware that concepts such as 'friendship' were, indeed, a thing. Being friends with someone as hot as Liora, though? That sounded fake as fuck! Like, it was normal to want to kiss lips this plump, and... to do other things... hnngh. Damn. Why the fuck did she have to be cursed with imagination this vivid? Usually, Inna didn't really mind, but now her brain was helpfully providing scenarios that would be better suited for bed time. Which, how distracting! Liora herself wasn't helping either, with her suddenly being so generous and kind. A few days ago, Inna likely would have wondered which aliens had kidnapped her ever-bitchy colleague in order to replace her with their spy, but now? Oh, now she could only wonder just how far that generousness of hers extended. ...like, she was a people-pleaser, wasn't she? In that aggravating, 'gotta-do-everything-right' way. Hmmm, hmmm. Interesting! Let's say that there was one area where Inna wouldn't chastise her for being... obsessed with the results. Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. Was it too late to spin some ridiculous excuse as to why they should barricade themselves in the room instead of going to that stupid banquet? Because the blonde had a much more fun program in mind.)

"Uh huh," Inna replied, obviously distracted. "I, ah. I've never really used it. Due to my traumatic fucking experiences. When I was in middle school, I stole a cousin's lipstick, but it turned out she had the grossest fucking rash you can possibly imagine. I'm still shocked I don't have scars." Sure, sure, just talk about your disgusting rash. Way to go, Inna! This is the surest path to a lady's heart. "But, um. Afterwards, I figured I shouldn't use it because it would be fucking unfair," the blonde quickly clarified. "You know, I wanted to give others some chance to not fall for me. Inna Orlovskaya's personal Code of Honor, page 85." As Liora worked, she observed the change happen in real time, and... wow. This was much more subtle than what she had expected, but not in a bad way-- it just accentuated her best features, which were all of them.

"You have a sister? I don't think you've mentioned her before." ...which, yeah, fair, considering the fact it would have been fucking weird to provide info about your family members in the middle of a shouting match. (Huh. Had there really been times when their communication had consisted solely of that? It seemed like a bad dream now, vague and half-forgotten.) "Does she work in our business as well?" ...hopefully not for Chett, though, because man or man, would that have been awkward. Rarely could you seduce a girl via murdering her fucking sister! "Thanks," Inna said, for what felt like millionth time that day, but she fucking meant it. The assistance was nice, and Liora's skill? Impressive. Impressive, indeed! Mesmerized by her own reflection, the blonde didn't hear Liora at first-- she turned around just in time for an interesting show. Wow, wow, wow! Looking good there, Liora, was pretty much all she managed to think before her brain, uh, overheated. (Protip: producing too many fantasies in quick succession, and without being able to do anything with them, wasn't the most healthy thing. Like, Inna felt as if she was going to jump out of her own fucking skin! ...also, that dress. How were such things legal, even? With the amount of car accidents they must have caused, this was cleat public endangerment!

Liora, of course, had to make things worse. "Yes," Inna gulped, trying not to get too overwhelmed by the idea of, you know, touching her bare skin. (Oh god, oh god, oh god.) Bizarrely enough, there wasn't even a zipper, as the blonde discovered once she stood behind her-- just... a set of bows, waiting to be tied. Well. Well, if nothing else, Inna could tie things! And that was exactly what she did, even focusing on making the little knots pretty-- since Liora had done such a good job on her, you know. Just returning the kindness! (...did she steal a few opportunities to brush against her, for way longer than would have been necessary? Yes. Look, Inna wasn't a fucking saint, and Liora apparently wanted something from her. Why not discover what it was, then?) "Now you're a real fucking princess," the blonde smiled. "Beautiful... but also pretty stiff. You sure you don't wanna a massage after we are done with this bullshit? If you don't mind me touching you, that is." And, as if to demonstrate what she meant, Inna caressed her arm gently, from her wrist to her shoulder. "Or maybe you like it?"

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

As Inna comes over to secure the ties, Liora sweeps her hair over one shoulder, looking down at her feet, at the corners of the room, out the window, anything to distract from the bubbles in her stomach that infect her heart as well. Where she knows that this is something she wants––that is, Inna close to her, Inna touching her––it inspires the same pre-game nerves she used to get before competitions. Even then, that's not an accurate comparison to whatever this feeling is; she twists some of her hair around her finger and starts an idle braid. "Well, I didn't know your favorite color is purple until I asked so," she says, a little sharpness in her tone––she may have brought her up, but the subject of her sister is complicated and usually a sore one. Naturally, she gets defensive about the fact that she hardly mentions her, because somewhere she knows that isn't exactly normal. "But, no––I don't think this is up her alley," because Sol won't even hurt a fly let alone another person. "She's still in school, I think." Whatever she's studying is beyond Liora. Not because it is undoubtably a subject she would disapprove of, but because her sister has changed her mind so many times she isn't sure what she settled on. Besides, she doesn't talk to her and hasn't for a while so she only knows as much as is available online (which is a quite a bit since Sol has zero sense of online privacy).

"I'm surprised the Inna Orlovskaya personal honor code has any pages, let alone eighty-five," she says, trying her hand at something that is more in the territory of roasting than it is insulting. (Apparently, there is a difference and it's one Liora only barely understands.) "I would have thought you winged that shit like you do everything else," again, more friendly poking fun than anything else. But, of course, worrying that she isn't making that clear enough through the subtle nuances of her tone, she clarifies, "But, like, that's not awful––I mean, it's been pretty fucking useful these last few days so... Like. Yeah." All elegance and grace gone. If the Liora from a few days ago could see the present day Liora? She'd bitch-slap her for letting herself sound like a complete idiot buffoon.

While Liora does note all the times Inna brushes against her for longer than needed, she says nothing about it. Mostly because each time it happens, her jaw clamps down so tightly it prevents her from doing or saying anything that can count as idiot buffoon material. She is certain that she has reached her quota for the rest of the fucking century. The touches feel nice too, so she doesn't want to do anything that might put them in jeopardy (admittedly, excluding the other night where Inna had snuggled against Liora in her sleep, it has been a while since another human has touched her; these days if another human is touching her, it's because she's engaged in trying to end their life. So this is a decidedly... interesting change of pace. A welcome one too.) Of course, whatever resolve she has in holding her broken composure together is shattered to dust when Inna straight up caresses her arm, calls her beautiful, and offers to massage her later (not in that order, but Liora is so scrambled she doesn't even know what happened first).

She clears her throat, tries to swallow something to bring moisture back to her mouth. Her hands smooth over the fabric of her dress as she turns to look at Inna, "Oh? You were serious about that?" To be honest, she thought it had been a joke earlier––sometimes these things are hard to read with someone unserious as Inna. Knowing that it's a real and standing offering, she does consider it. Even without Inna having the proper credentials... Some part of her bypasses that usual security measure (i.e., excuse), reasoning it might be a while until she is able to get to an actual masseuse. "I––I guess. That, um, would improve efficiency. Like, you can't save the world with fucking knots in your back," she laughs nervously, trying to ignore all the other implications hidden in the blonde's offer. "I don't know what I like," is the only defense she has to avoid the seven layers of meaning behind liking Inna's touch (which she does).

Rather awkwardly, she pulls herself away from Inna and quickly finishes the rest of her make up in the bathroom. Similar to what she had done for Inna, she settles for a more nude look, save for the red-lip she chooses to match her dress. Once that piece is settled, she takes Inna's hand, daring to even step it up and lace their fingers together as she takes them out of the room into the rest of the villa. Which has the same excess as their quarters. Liora is somewhat stuck admiring all of the frescos that line the walls and the statues scattered about. (She did not waste her education on an art history degree, but she is fairly certain all these pieces have been done by the greats.) Whoever this Mistress woman is, she has a thing for art and extravagance. "If these were painting, I bet stealing just one could set anyone up for life," she comments as they finally reach the fancy, gilded entrance to the dining hall.

She squeezes Inna's hand as the doors open on their own accord (probably sensing the arrival of the honored "guests"). Music immediately swims out into the hallway and practically pulls them into the party. This is nothing like a debutante ball.

 

[Syntra]

"You don't know, huh?" Inna raised her eyebrow, a big smile blooming on her lips. "Hmmm, hmmm. Very curious, princess! Perhaps we'll find out tonight." Because, hahaha, this had to be some attempt at flirting, right? Not a good one, mind you, with 5/10 being a generous rating, but like, this was Liora Trihn. (Had Inna discovered a new appreciation for the woman? Against all odds, yeah. Did this shift in perspective negate everything she had ever learned about her? Uhhh, no. Liora was still a goddamn alien, and her ways were completely fucking incomprehensible. For all Inna knew, this was a 10/10 seduction technique for Eldritch Horrors, or whatever the hell she was. Just, the woman couldn't have meant it literally! Nobody was this fucking clueless. A woman who didn't know what she wanted would be like-- like a politician who didn't know how to steal, or a murderer who had to guess which side of the knife to use for slitting their victim's throat. ...hmmm. Maybe Liora was actually, like, testing her? You know, by throwing these non-answers at her in order to see whether she was able to turn it into something ~juicy~? Okay, bitch. She was Inna Fucking Orlovskaya, and every challenge was just an opportunity to prove just how great she was!)

Fully convinced of her own truth, Inna returned Liora's squeeze and allowed her to lead the way-- because, hey, relinquishing control from time to time could be nice, with the right person. "For life, you say?" the blonde looked around, trying to ascertain just what was so special about these things. (Like, yeah, they were sorta aesthetic, she guessed, but the same went for most of those statues old people decorated their fucking gardens with, and those were generally considered trash-tier. So, what made these statues different? That they had been made ages ago? 'Oooh, look at me, I'm a piece of shit stone and I'm valuable because some people said so,' Inna mocked the concept in her mind. "What," she said, "are you implying the great Liora Trihn is so small-minded she can't even steal a fucking statue? Pfff." (Similarly to Liora's words earlier, though, there was no bite to her statement-- if anything, Inna's gaze seemed warm. Kind, even, and maybe something else as well. Enchanted? Enamored? One of those fancy words beginning with an e, probably.) "You are good, princess, I have to admit, but you still have some way to go in the world of crime. You gotta think on your feet, you know? If I were to steal a fucking statue, I would..." Hmm. What would she do, actually? "I would pretend it has always fucking been mine. Like, I'd greet the Mistress and everything, be polite as shit," for Inna's standards, anyway, "and then I'd casually pick up my statue as I'd go on my merry way. When she complains about it? Dude, what the fuck. Don't you know this is my only friend? He follows me everywhere. Are you suggesting I'd just steal one of your statues before your very eyes? Wild! You may wanna get weaker meds next time, friend."

Inna would have expanded upon her plan, and maybe even tried to get Liora on board, really, but she didn't exactly get the opportunity to do that. As they emerged in the hall, the music suddenly stopped-- all the eyes were on them, and fuck, was it a whole goddamn circus. Like!!! Uniforms could be cool, Inna did see the appeal, but not when they consisted of scarlet cowls. And the masks that hid their faces? What was this, Satanists as portrayed by dumbass Hollywood movies, or some fucking joke? At this point, literally nothing would surprise her. If fucking Rick Astley rose from his grave to Rick Roll them personally and informed them he had orchestrated the events of the past few days solely to enjoy this moment, Inna would probably just shrug and go on with her life! ...well, with what remained of it, anyway.

Needless to say, though, Fate had something else in store for the duo. One of those masked clowns approached them-- instinctively, Inna's hands balled into fists, but, umm. The person actually fell to their knees? Wow, finally the respect she was owed! Maybe, just maybe clowns could be valid at times.

"Lady Vie, lady Ivy," the woman (?) wailed dramatically, "we've been blessed. To think you'd return to us during our lifetimes! We've been preparing for the possibility, but we dared not hope. I apologize for the way we seized you-- the battlefield was, uh, rather chaotic. Good job with Remus, by the way. I understand there have been some... issues... when it comes to you reconnecting with your powers, but you're doing splendidly! As you always do. ...well, aside from that one time," the woman coughed discreectly, "but it is my understanding that you do not wish to speak of the Incident. Am I right, lady Vie?" she looked up, just briefly, and it seemed like her eyes could see right into the depths of Liora's soul.

"Great," Inna rolled her eyes, "so what you're saying is that you kidnapped us to feed us more cryptic bullshit? I don't think Alessia is done with that, so assume your place in the queue, bitch. Plus, who the fuck are you?" she asked, with all the tact of a machine gum.

The woman, however? Oh, she didn't seem to be surprised-- she chuckled, actually, in this strangely fond way. "Ah, lady Ivy. Always so refreshingly straightforward! But, no. I am Mistress," wow, involving them in her roleplay? Rude! "and I am here to provide answers. You've been entrusted with a great mission, you see? Now, come." They followed, because why the fuck not, and the sea of red in front of them parted. In the middle of the room, there was... a fountain? A white one, except that instead of water, blood seemed to be flowing out of its depths. (Blood that felt like home, Inna thought, which... wow. The crazy really was contagious! ...fucking hell, did she need a break. Several of them, and ideally on a private beach with Liora!)

"This is your very essence," the Mistress explained, "collected from times long past. Peer into it, and you shall know your Purpose."

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉​

Liora obviously has several holes to poke in Inna's scheme; even if she can tell that she's joking, the woman still thinks it's important for her colleague to know that these statues probably weigh a ton and would not be so easily removed. Like how does anyone, a blonde or otherwise, neglect the fact that marble is kind of a heavy rock? Thankfully, for Inna, she is spared that argument as they are rushed into one of the strangest feasts that Liora has ever seen. It's kind of difficult for her to even grasp that her own point of reference is misaligned, because how hard is it to misinterpret the word "feast?” She sure as fuck wasn't expecting to see this weird cult within the banquet hall. Now she’s wondering why they had been given clothes leagues above these silly uniforms. (Although, had that oddly dressed maid suggested they wear scarlet cowls... well, even she knows she would have laughed and immediately left. She assumes Inna might have had a similar response as she can only imagine her disagreeing out of spite.)

The woman rolls her eyes when they are addressed by their old names––for all this research this group has done on them, going so far as to locate them and kidnap them, she assumes that Mistress must know that they're current names are Liora and Inna. Not Vie and Ivy––those names, along with those women, are dead. 'What happened to that clean slate and fresh start...' she pauses that thought, startled by it and the direction it had been going. Sure, she is aware these are past lives of theirs but... the thought still feels foreign in her head. Like it’s from some new (?) part of her that is still struggling to find its place in Liora’s highly compartmentalized organized personality.

It doesn't help that Mistress gives her a soul-baring look that dredges up disturbing memories and confusing feelings that shake her core. Unlike all the times before, she somewhat knows where to place all of these internal awakenings. Still, just as before, she remains quiet and feigns confusion by curling her lip in a mixture of confusion and disgust. Though her silence now has a certain air of suspicion if one is paying attention––like how she gives a quick, nervous side-glance to Inna to see if she has caught onto what all these people have been referring to. And she becomes noticeably relieved when Inna only offers a signature snarky comment. 'Thank fucking God.' They're just starting to warm up to each other and she just... She just wants to keep it the way it is right now! There's just no telling how the blonde might react––she is too unpredictable and Liora, for some reason, cannot stand the thought of her being hurt by her. It's entirely selfish, but Liora does not even consider that fact. (Also cut her some slack; she is still adjusting to all this shit that is now her life.)

As they are led towards the fountain in the center of the room, the one that spills blood, Liora actually doesn't even question it. Not because she has been thoroughly desensitized to all magical bullshit in these last three or so days, but because this fountain feels familiar to her. If what the Mistress has said is true, and she doesn’t actually believe the “woman” is lying to them (yet), then it is because it is part of their essence. When she is front of the fountain, she peers down into the thick red pool. The silhouette of her shadow shifts the longer she stares and where she might have looked to Inna to see if she is seeing the same transformation, the imagery in front of them holds her in a trance.

The familiar women that have haunted (or graced) their minds eye come into view, along with the sword forms of Haenel and Declan. The women are at a rift site, similar to the temple they had been at earlier this morning (?). At the center of this temple, there is a chasm in the ground emitting magical energy that also spews out creatures she has never seen before. Ivy and Vie draw their weapons and, with grace like she and Inna have never had, are able to coordinate their attacks, both physical and magical, to defeat the monsters that have spawned from the rift. Next, the women stand at the edge of the chasm, smiling at each other with such warmth it causes Liora to ache––though that is beside the point. The women push their foreheads together, grasping the nape of the other's neck as they stare into each other's eyes and whisper words that have echoed in Liora's dreams (though she’s never been able to make sense of them until now). As they whisper, wisps of magic (?) begin to collect around the swords, causing the blades to shine. Once the blades are fully luminescent, Ivy and Vie touch the tips together which causes the blade to reform into a larger saw-like blade that they wield together, their hands laced around the handle of the weapon. They separate from their embrace and finish the spell by sending the giant blade along the seam of the chasm. As the serrated edge saws through the magical energy, it severs the mortal realm from magic realm and closes the portal.

The scene ends abruptly for Liora. As she pulls her gaze away from the red pool, she looks up expectantly at Mistress. She honestly has more questions––what caused these rifts? Why are they responsible for closing them? Are Haenel and Declan necessarily for this ritual? Why do they have to stare into each other's eyes? What even is the story behind Vie and Ivy? (Other than what she already knows.) Are they ever going to be as powerful as their former selves? How did they reincarnate? Why did is take so long for them to realize their abilities and their hidden mission?

 

[Syntra]

'Peer,' the mysterious bitch had said, and yeah, Inna could do that, at least. Considering the flurry of bullshittery they had been forced to go through the past few days? You know, escaping a burning apartment, defeating a motherfucking kraken, being yeeted into the past and triggering the Romulus vs. Remus incident, and all the other things she was too fucking tired to list? Yeah, this was the least taxing request by far. Now, Inna would have preferred something else to watch-- a kickass action movie to steal one liners from, maybe, or a cheesy horror so she had a reason to ~huddle closer~ to Liora for comfort. Still, not even the blonde could deny she was just a liiiitle bit curious! (The past was a goddamn minefield, Inna knew that. A can of worms, and if she opened it? They would eat her alive, leaving behind nothing but bones. ...still, though. Fucking still! Didn't they deserve some answers? Safe answers that would help her conceptualize all of this and... and figure out where she stood, or something. Whew, that sounded suspiciously responsible, didn't it? Like something Liora would say, and not Inna Avoiding-Commitment-At-All-Costs Orlovskaya! ...had she, like, installed some mind control chip into her brain when she had been asleep? 'Cause that would explain all those rapidly shifting opinions, and the tangled mess her thoughts had morphed into-- though perhaps the blonde just wanted to figure out in which direction to run. Having no idea where you were could land you in trouble, you see? Since you could be heading towards your Fate, not away from it! Yup, that seemed reasonable enough. Satisfied with her conclusion, Inna stepped closer to the fountain-- stepped and watched, as she had been instructed.)

...home, home, home. What was it, even? The place where you could rest your head, and have a breakdown in so that you could continue to pretend to be a Well-Adjusted Adult for a little longer? Inna had never really thought about this, really. To her, the whole thing had been just propaganda-- 'hurrr durrr, buy this overpriced, mass-produced piece of shit table to make your Home feel CozyTM'. Just another cheap trick of capitalism! ...and if it wasn't propaganda? Then people like Inna, who had all the sentimentality of a screwdriver, clearly didn't qualify for the feeling. Like, hahaha, who even needed to feel like they belonged somewhere? Such weakass bullshit! Inna belonged to Inna, and that was the greatest fucking honor in the entire universe, and anything else would have been a downgrade of such epic proportions she would have sued. The blonde had come to this brilliant conclusion as a teen, which was a proof of her superior wisdom! A wisdom she had kept close to her heart ever since, and-- and now it was shaking in its foundations, violently. Because, as Inna watched the vision? She felt at home, for the first time in her life. At home and cherished, as Vie touched her... well, Ivy... so, so gently.

There was something else as well, though. When Liora's past self grabbed her by the nape of her neck? The hand was steel, somewhere in the area of her stomach. (Cold steel splitting her apart, in one fell swoop. Blood was escaping her wound-- so, so much of it could fill a lake, an ocean. Bathing in her own sweat, Inna looked down, and... nothing, obviously. Her belly was as intact as ever, but fuck, she could fucking see it! Not the wound itself, of course, but the ghost of it-- a see-through picture transposed over her reality, as a grim reminder. 'This was you, once,' a voice whispered. 'It is your future as well. Cycles, you see? Repeating, over and over. None shall escape.' Which, fuck! Tears stung her eyes, tears which Inna tried to blink away and succeeded, mostly-- too bad that the dread in her stomach couldn't go away as easily, though. ...dread that, somehow, pointed towards Liora. Her... her friend. Her more-than-friend, actually. What the fucking fuck?!)

"You've seen now," the Mistress said, and smiled knowingly. (Even with the mask, Inna could tell-- mainly because the expression must have been completely fucking obnoxious, so her smugness radar was going off.) "Become what you once were. You understand now, do you? What your mission is. You need to close the gaping jaws leading to the Other Worlds, and restore the balance. You didn't succeed last time, though now you will. The stars have been kinder towards you in this timeline, I believe."

...stars? Kinder? Fucking what? Those were words for sure, but like, the Mistress might as well have been speaking in Cantonese! (Except that Cantonese at least fucking made sense to people who spoke it. This bitch, though? She might as well have gotten a job as a random number generator!)

"So what, you show us one youtube tutorial and expect us to understand?" Inna began, full of righteous fury. "'Cause I fucking don't! This isn't a goddamn IKEA table I'm supposed to build. Like, I've seen them do it, but I have no fucking idea how they did it! Do you have to get in sync with the... I dunno, energies of the universe, or... or..." Inna would have liked to continue, really, but with those images still flashing before her eyes? It was hard, kinda like focusing on driving while... while someone was stabbing you. (A shitty fucking comparison, yeah, but let's say that stabbing was, uh, a prominent theme in her mind now. Extremely prominent!) "Liora," she turned to her, deciding to flex her brand new communication skills, "did you hurt me? I need to know."

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRIHN ☉
​

"Liora, did you hurt me?"​

​

Why does that question feel like a death sentence? It sends an earthquake through her brain and topples over all those neat little file cabinets that inform her on how she is supposed to respond. Even though the question is vague Liora knows exactly what she is referring to––denying it would be as ignorant as believing the Earth is flat. Everything in her body tells her to say the truth; if Inna already knows, what is the point of lying to her? But a few justifications encircle Liora like chains. The look on the blonde's face, for one, stops everything in her heart. She isn't sure if she would call it searing or something else, but it just feels like if she tells the truth it will shatter her (which her though? Who is she really protecting?). Second, and maybe even vying for the first position, is the fact that the entire room has gone silent. It's as though everyone has stopped breathing, has stilled their hearts just so they can hear and witness how Liora is going to respond. That unwanted limelight just reminds her they aren't in private and so she isn't sure why Inna is bringing this up now. (The mother in her head scolds her, 'Never air our dirty laundry in public, Liora. If you embarrass me like that again I will not hesitate in showing you the limits of my generosity. Now, run along––your piano is still sloppy and you missed a mark on your last exam...')

For these reasons, she chooses to lie. To protect Inna. To protect her reputation (whatever it is). And she does so with an unsurprising amount of conviction; she holds Inna's eye contact as her lips turn into a frown. "I mean, probably? I said some pretty fucked up things to you over the years; I imagine some fucking hurt." That's not, like, a great cover-up but at least she somewhat addresses a semblance of hurt Inna could be feeling. Her question had been non-specific anyway. Plus, aside from her prior justifications––Liora did not kill Ivy. Vie did that and as far as she can tell, the only thing she has in common with that woman is the fact that... For some reason a shard of her soul is stuck somewhere inside of Liora and as soon as she can figure out how to dislodge it so that she can have her regular life back, she will! Like just how responsible is she supposed to be for the actions of a past life? She barely knows anything about Vie and thus does not feel that it's fair for herself to be held accountable for that woman's crimes. "Are you really thinking about that right now?" she asks, all confusion and no sense that she has caught onto the real underlying question.

The Mistress somehow communicates her disappointment through her mask which irritates Liora for a number of reasons, but right now she deflects to wondering what the purpose of a mask is if literally everyone can always tell what stupid little expression is on your stupid hidden face! Before Liora's inner tirade can continue, Mistress speaks, "All will be unveiled in due time, Lady Ivy. Magic is not something that can be learned like mathematics or putting together IKEA furniture––it takes a level of intuition and will. It is a force you communicate with and thus it has its own language; the laypeople refer to it as spells and through spell casting you can bend this force to your will. Some sorcerers have a higher acuity for the craft than others which can be based in a number of different factors, such as heritage." Liora can feel another knowing smile seep out from beneath the mask; though, this time, she doesn't know what Mistress is referring to. It also makes her somewhat uncomfortable––Alessia had mentioned something like heritage as well and that's such a complicated subject for her it's hard to even touch let alone prod.

"Now, come along, before I explain any further let us feast––you two have been through so much in these last few days, you must be famished. We have curated this menu to match your tastes so we do hope that you enjoy." Mistress claps her hands and the banquet hall transforms into something that actually fucking resembles a banquet hall. The fountain moves to the back of wall, behind Mistress' seat, to make room for the long tables filled with food. "Lady Ivy, Lady Vie, as our honored guests you have seats reserved by my side. We can eat, converse, and I will do my best to answer what I can. Do understand that some questions may not have answers that will satisfy."

Liora follows along, still suspicious of whether or not she should trust this woman but also resigned to play along until her alarm bells really start blaring. Besides, it gives her something else to do rather than stew in her own guilt. Even looking at Inna is somewhat difficult––earlier it had been because of how stunning she looks and now it's because she obviously saw something devastating and Liora just cannot confront that. She's not that brave or strong. Well, maybe she'll be able to after a glass of wine––which there seems to be plenty of. "See, I told you there would be alcohol," she whispers to Inna, as she takes her seat, in some desperate attempt to control the conversation so that it NEVER returns to the subject of a certain murderous woman who lives in her soul (rent-free... What a bitch!). "Now, I wonder if the soups are as fucking spicy as that last one we had together." Again, another attempt at light conversation.

Just as she is about to serve herself, there is the half-worry that they should not consume anything from someone they do not know––especially from someone who is magical, especially from someone who's face they cannot see, and especially from a group they still do not have a name for. So before she even accepts the wine in her chalice or the array of soups and other dishes she doesn't recognize, she challenges the Mistress, "If we eat this shit how can we trust that you're not just going to trap us here forever like some fucked up Persephone bullshit?" It's a pretty logical comparison too, since they have just found out the legend behind Romulus and Remus is real (and something they orchestrated).

 

[Syntra]

Carefully, Inna studied Liora's face. Hmmm, hmmm. Could she have been wrong? The idea seemed absurd, mainly because Inna Orlovskaya was never fucking wrong, but maybe-- maybe this was one of those memetic exceptions that proved the rule, or something. Like, perhaps the vision had been a metaphor? A metaphor with a shockingly benign meaning, such as, uhhh... Ivy loving Vie so much that her death had been a knife in her gut. Yeah, yeah, that made total fucking sense! Everyone knew that prophecies and shit were cryptic on purpose, and so this couldn't be as straightforward as her partner murdering her in cold blood. Just, no. More than likely, it was a bizarre test of their trust-- the reasoning being something like 'Hurrr durrr, I'll give your a proof of your companion's betrayal and if you believe it, you fucking failed. Don't even try to use your brain, bitch! Only wild associations and positive vibes allowed here. Now let me set you on fire so that you remember your fucking lesson this time. You can thank me later, xoxo!' Which, hahahaha, fuck off, fucking fuckers. This wasn't Inna's first rodeo, and after the bullshittery that dealing with Haenel, Alessia, and pretty much everyone even tangentially involved with magic had been, she wouldn't fall for the same trick twice. No, the blonde believed her.

(...she wanted to, so, so desperately. Liora had been with her from the very beginning, you know? From the time they had touched that stupid fucking tome and their lives had fallen apart, in a manner more spectacular than even her imagination could possibly conjure. She'd been with her for the first clumsy attempts at magic, and when she had outed herself as a Pokémon lover, and-- and when the fucking kraken had mistaken them for a burger, or whatever it was that krakens ate. That had to count for something, right? Like, being in the same stomach sure as hell made people grow closer! ...and when Inna had cried in front of Liora, she hadn't laughed her, either. No, not at all. Even with zero job experience, the other woman had allowed her to apply for the position of a jester at her court, which, wow. Finally a honest career that didn't make her want to gouge her own fucking eyes out with a fork! ...she kissed so sweetly, too. So, so sweetly, as if what they had actually mattered, and Inna enjoyed the taste, you know? Far more than the bitter undertones of betrayal beneath her tongue, anyway. That betrayal was pain, and cold, and the blood seeping from her abdomen, and, uh, she had actually been wearing her favorite shirt as well, hadn't she? In the past that had never happened, with Liora that hadn't been Liora not shanking her. ...yeah, not remembering that would be better. Like, why should she store it inside of her head when it hadn't even been a thing, huh? Might as well start archiving her favorite nightmares, or her childhood traumas that also hadn't happened! Man oh man, memories were such a trip. More like fake-ories, right?)

"I... suppose you're right," the blonde finally said, flashing her signature smile. "I mean, some of those insults were pretty bad. Not crying-into-my-pillow-at-night level of bad, but still fucking effective. It was a silly questions, I guess. Sorry for being weird. Like, more than usual. I blame the lunatics-- hard to stay sane in this company," Inna waved her hand, not caring at all that the aforementioned lunatics could hear every. fucking. word. "You think we could sue them? For, I dunno, shattering our reality as we knew it. Seems like a big deal to me-- could be a goldmine for a lawyer who isn't totally braindead." The blonde had also liked that fucking reality, thank you very much! It was a reality in which every issue could be solved with a well-placed bullet, and she happened to be pretty good at placing her bullets. No pulse = no problem. Now, though? They depended on magic and mysterious benefactors and talking swords, and really, it was just a question of time before the goddamn Fairy Godmother showed up and, uhhh... turned them into a fucking pumpkin? Because in their version of the fairytale, the stupid hag would definitely fuck up?

Speaking of stupid hags, the Mistress went on and on-- blah, blah, blah. Wow. That's a lot of words for saying absolutely fucking nothing, huh? Like, seriously. Had magic demolished the single brain cell all the supernaturals must have shared, or had they gone to the same uni and taken the Pissing Inna Off 101 course? Because if the latter was true, then congratulations, bastards! She was, indeed, pissed off. Pissed off enough to set this entire stupid room on fire, along with these stupid cultists and possibly her stupid self, too, since then she'd be fucking dead and wouldn't have to deal with this bullshit. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was starting to look like the most dignified solution by far!

Except that then, then the Mistress finally said something interesting. "Food? Booze? Now we're talking," Inna grinned and sat down, not even surprised that this whole place apparently had some eerie chameleon-like properties. It worked in her favor this time, so like, why try to repair something that did exactly what she wanted it to? A tremendous fucking waste of resources, that was what that would be. "I hope it won't be some pisswater," Inna whispered back. "My alcohol blood levels are dangerously fucking low, and I will cut a bitch if I don't get black out drunk in about three hours." Especially since these people lived in this obscenely wealthy-ass looking mansion! Like, the least they could do for her after fucking kidnapping her, forcing her to stare into a pool of hallucinogenic blood and almost sabotaging her relationship with Liora was to provide some good whiskey, god fucking dammit.

"You can't know that for sure, I suppose," the Mistress smiled beneath her mask. "Would my word be enough? I don't think so, yet that is all I can give. You'd do well to remember that we don't actually have Persephone here. I admit, we stole from the Greeks quite enthusiastically, but we improved the myths. Here, she is called Proserpina! Don't you think it sounds much more melodic? Like a caress to the ears!" ...what? Was that the part they'd improved, and not, you know, the whole non-consensual marriage to a kidnapper shtick? Those were certainly... priorities, Inna supposed.

"You know what? I don't care. If I get trapped here, then so be it. Becoming a goddess to some fucked up cult is a way better career than what I dared to dream about as a kid, so like, cheers!" the blonde announced, and downed her glass in one gulp. ...which, wow. This really was some good shit! Smooth and smokey, and yet strong enough to fucking make her shudder. Okay, stomach, now listen closely. We have a mission, you and I. I will drink as much of this bad boy as I can, and you will hold it inside. Do we have a deal? And the stomach remained silent, meaning he had no problem with the plan. What a fucking bro!

A second glass disappeared in Inna, with another following shortly. Then there was a glass number four, and number five, and... wow. Was she trying to break the world record here? (Possibly. Well, that, and the alcohol also made her feel pleasantly warm-- a nice contrast to the coldness that had settled in her stomach since witnessing that Totally Not Real Murder. Ah, alcohol truly was the mankind's best friend!)

With her cheeks sufficiently flushed and her world much more blurry than it had used to be, Inna finally turned to her companion. (Wow, wow, wow! Stunning and beautiful and perfect, and all the synonyms she was too shitfaced to remember now. Had Liora always been this fucking pretty? How come she hadn't noticed before? Wanting to snap her neck might have interpreted with that perception somewhat, but still. This was like failing to recognize that the goddamn sky was blue!) "I'm so... so glad you didn't hurt me," the blonde giggled and scooted closer, as if they were two schoolgirls sharing an especially juicy secret. "Because otherwise, this would have been so fucking awkward. You know what I mean, don't you?" ...actually, now that Inna thought of it, she probably didn't. Whatever was going on in that thick skull of hers, it was beyond the scope of her comprehension-- kind of like an ant trying to understand god, or maybe a god trying to understand a different god 'cause she didn't feel like putting herself down. The clueless queens of cluelessness, both of them! 'Cause this surely went both ways, Inna was sure. Alright, time to break the fucking cycle.

"C'mon, Liora," she whined. "What else do I need to do? I fucking offered to massage you, twice. Do I need to compose a poem? Or serenade you under your goddamn balcony? Look, I want you, Liora Trihn, and it's your own fucking fault," the blonde furrowed her brow, righteous fury burning in her chest. "If you didn't want this to happen, you shouldn't have been born as my type. And, um, you shouldn't have been nice to me, either. You shouldn't have been you, in general."