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

[starboob]

Well, then they are screwed. If all this magical bullshit relied on feelings and emotions then there is no way Liora will ever reach full potential—she, like any sensible and reasonable person, does not have or deal with emotions. She investigates them, smooths her hands over them, and then packages them away into neat little boxes and jars for later. If everyone did as she does, therapists would be out of work! After all, a client with no emotions is certainly no cause for concern or clinical evaluation.

She huffs, arms crossing over her chest as her own looming defeat seems imminent and she doesn't take to failure well. Her expression must look bleak because she knows there isn’t much hope for her suddenly becoming an emotionally open person—she doesn’t even want to be that as she admires not being pathetic and weak. She clutches the neck of the bottle tightly before taking a LARGE swallow (or two or three). Alcohol, she figures, may help her tap into these forbidden recesses in her psyche—the squishier parts she hadn’t yet hardened into pretty diamonds.

“Lucky for you, I’m the least fucking angry person out here,” she says, in earnest (or in an earnestly aggressive tone). Anger, actually, is the feeling she is most intimately familiar with and had been her favorite friend since she realized how it protected her from inane things like envy, sadness, or fear and happiness! It is a warm security blanket whether she realizes she is carrying it around or not.

Okay, so Inna said not to be angry? But she also said Liora should become a Disney Princess, so really, how could she trust the human disaster, who’s only major talent seems to be failing upwards? (Ah, yes––there we are! Returning back to baseline.) In her minds eye she pulls up all of the times she could recall of the blonde using her abilities; once in an assumed life or death situation; another time when they had been arguing; fighting off the mafia; and after they kissed (to show off, probably). It is difficult to find the common thread between all of these instances. The only thing that they each share is that they had all happened in the heat of the moment––even the one instance where Inna had attempted to command her magic she was responding to a crisis (and the success had not been without consequence).

Maybe closing her eyes and thinking peaceful thoughts will help? (Okay, this isn’t The Force, Master Yoda.) For an extra measure, she takes another mouthful of whiskey—without even assessing how the previous drink had effected her. She gives the bottle back to Inna now and swallows the fire. As she concentrates on nothing in particular her thoughts scramble in her head; then they calm. Slowly, a bright orange spot begins to form before it erupts across her vision—she can feel the heat of flames against her cheeks though she knows its her mind’s trick (the port air is too cold for fire). Fear immediately floods her and she pulls back from the flames; her eyes fly open with a wild start as her hands rise to cover her face from invisible danger. In the next moment she pushes her arms out, instinctually, as if expelling whatever danger away from her body. Whatever energy she sends out, it crumbles the lamp posts in the park (and a small ache taps at her temple afterwards).

“Shit...” she grabs Inna’s hand, “Did you see that?” Where she is definitely excited about the display––she is also talking about the vision since, so far, all of their visions had been shared. She makes this known in her next statement, "The flame visions are getting kind of old, but this one felt more real..."

 

[Syntra]

"Oh, I can see that," the blonde smirked. "About as stable as a chair with three legs. Oh, fuck, wait. Some of those actually are stable! As long as they were built with that design in mind. Those are, uhhh, pretty fucking neat, actually. Peak stylishness." ...what? All of that was incredibly relevant to their situation, Inna was sure. With Liora's level of cluelessness regarding all things aesthetic, she should be fucking paying her for this lesson! No, really. The only pretty aspect of her pitiful apartment was the woman herself, and that hardly counted. Like, sheesh. Winning the genetic lottery wasn't an accomplishment! Plus, it wasn't like Liora's head was attached to one of those terrifyingly, abominably bare walls, was it? So, until it was, it wasn't fucking home decor. All the rules said so. "Let's see, then. As stable as a three-legged cat? Nah, too fucking morbid, even for me. Cats are bros. Hmm, what else? Oh, I know, I know. As stable as Chett's marriage. Bwhahaha!" Somehow, without Inna noticing, her brain had apparently moved Liora from the category 'enemies' to the category called 'kinda sorta friends', and that meant she actually had to find other people to insult from time to time. And as for why that had happened? Uhh... thanks to the sweet, sweet embrace of alcohol? Yup, the universal answer to all the great questions! Hell, even gods had probably been invented by fuckers drunk off their asses-- and, knowing humanity, as a part of some stupid bet. (Which, geez. Thanks for ruining the society, guys!)

"Well, I dunno. Maybe try those anger management courses I suggested? Or meditation. Or, uhhh, punching something till you're no longer angry? I mean, unlike the hippie options, that one might actually work. Anger is exhausting. But anyway, I am not volunteering for that," Inna raised her hands in a defensive gesture. "Not my idea of a pleasant fucking afternoon. Well, technically," she added a few seconds later, her expression turning thoughtful all of a sudden, "I suppose that... No, no. Punching is definitely too much," she shook her head resolutely. "Scratching, maybe, but none of that ridiculously over-the-top shit. A girl has to have standards, you know. 'Cause if you leave it up to the world, you can bet the bar will end up being literally underground." ...um. Was she-- was she suddenly giving Liora goddamn life advice? What was next, her transformation into the fairy godmother? Obviously, Inna had always been a powerful force for the good, but like, didn't you have to be significantly older to get the job?! In order to avoid making your proteges jealous of your dazzling beauty and shit. (Also, um. Was it ethical to seduce your pupils? Asking for a friend, of course.)

Since there was no-one to answer her questions, Inna resorted to the method her ancestors had perfected aeons ago-- namely, to seeking the truth in the bottom of a bottle. Ah, thank god for that ancient wisdom! The sacred drink must have cleaned her chakras or something, because she saw things much more clearly now. Liora, however? Liora seemed to be seeing something else entirely. "Hey," Inna frowned. "You okay?" she waved her hand in front of her eyes, but they were unfocused-- as if they looked through it, and thus the movement didn't bother them. Wow, okay. So, in other words, she had transcended the limits of the human body solely to be able to ignore her? Weird flex, but fine. It didn't bother her, anyway! Stupid Liora and her stupid, pretty eyes could go to hell for all she cared, and-- uh. Alright, now she was grabbing her instead. Grabbing her and looking... sorta cute? Kind of like a kitten, except that Inna didn't want to kiss kittens. Not that she wanted to kiss Liora, of course-- nah, that was a totally random distinction her brain made for no reason at all. Haha! (Anyway, yeah, her blood pressure may have been through the roof, BUT she managed to look cool and composed while the war was raging on inside of her body, so who was the real winner here, huh? Inna, the fucking master of camouflage!) "See... what?" Inna tilted her head aside. "I'm only seeing you, love. I'm pretty sure I'd notice a flame vision-- since those tend to be kinda memorable."

 

[starboob]

She is disappointed that Inna hadn’t seen the same vision too; it shows on her face but she doesn’t spend much time on the feeling. Instead she tries to gather her thoughts as best she can—its somewhat of a task given her level of intoxication. Even if she were sober, what Liora had seen and experienced is not something that she can articulate with ease. (She wishes that Inna had been there with her.) The only thing that she thinks she is certain of is that whatever had happened, it had shown her a few different possible outcomes should Inna and Liora decide to, 'Seal the rift,' and all that. Most of them are favorable––there are only a few where they end up permanently maimed or otherwise incapacitated, so she thinks the odds are pretty good. Moreover, Liora is smart enough (or drunk enough) to focus on the ever important five percent chance they come out with swords. That is a selling point that needs no explanation––especially considering she has had more than a fair share of alcohol and has failed to eat since the afternoon. So naturally, or cosmically, somehow all this means she is working out a way to lasso Inna into this ordeal with her—because in none of the future possibilities did she see herself doing this alone or Inna doing this alone; in each one, they had been together.

"Well, it was... Similar to the last one from the tome except this time..." it had felt as if she had been in the scene––living each possibility independently and simultaneously. It had been exhilarating in all the overwhelm––she's still buzzing a bit from the shock of it all and she may be squeezing the blonde's hand a little too tightly but she means no harm (this time). As she continues, she closes her eyes to help the images become sharper in her eye and easier to describe. "I knew where we were––and I was right––it was Italy near the..." The word slips her mind, like a lot of other things are slipping her mind. After pausing, she points to the heel of her boot. "The bottom part, you know?" she holds Inna’s gaze a moment too long. (There is something... cosmically alluring about the prospect of traveling across the sea with Inna to fulfill some weird prophecy—it is impressively more exciting than being an ex-undercover operative in the mafia.) "Okay, well it's complicated and not very complicated to describe... but, anyway, I guess I saw us closing this chasm or abyss-thing in the ground using our magic-powers," She shrugs.

(Thankfully, Liora is handling her alcohol quite well and is most definitely not looking at Inna with an almost pleading expression. She is not and will never be a groveler, but when inebriated she is more transparent with what she desires. Simply, what she wants right now is to go to the heel of Italy, seal a rift, and do so with Inna.)

"If anything, it'll get us out of the country and further away from that ugly piece of shit, Chett," she adds.

 

[Syntra]

...alright. So, if Inna understood correctly, what Liora wanted to do was to travel to Italy based on nothing but whiskey-fuelled daydreams. That part seemed good enough-- Italy was a good holiday country, so to speak, and god knew she needed a fucking break. Like, yeah, disappearing off Chett's radar wouldn't really solve anything since her career would still be in shambles, but she'd rather cry on a beach instead of, say, amidst the charred remains of Liora's stupid apartment. Unless... Hmmm. Actually, you know what? Maybe this was the solution, after all! Maybe the sea, party cocktails and some real tiny bikini were exactly what she needed to clean her head a bit. A change of scenery, as they said. Pretentious people with way too much money on their hands went on these journeys to ~find themselves~ all the time, so why couldn't Inna go on a journey to lose herself, huh? (Or at least some parts of herself, anyway. As in, how was this fair? She hadn't signed up for any of this magical bullshit! No, really, fuck fate and its love for chosen ones narratives. Tons of narcissists all over the world would kill for a chance to prove their delusions of grandeur were justified, so why the hell couldn't it have gone for one of them?! Inna didn't want that much from her life. All she had ever dreamed of was some good old tax avoidance, dammit! ...well, that, and maybe also of killing without repercussions, but that was a desire so mainstream it did not need to be mentioned. Like, who didn't want to murder their enemies in cold blood? Only psychopaths, most likely!)

So anyway, Inna was on board. She hadn't packed her party hat, but-- well, she hadn't had the chance to pack anything, in fact, and Chett's lackeys were probably torching her apartment as they spoke, so saying goodbye to her material possessions was the best thing she could do in order to preserve her sanity. Besides, who even needed a party hat when you had, uhhh... a party spirit? Yeah, sounded good enough. Except that, as usual, Liora just had to ruin everything-- this time with her implication that, no, they weren't going to have fun, actually. Instead, they were going to work, work and work! Work for free, to top it off. (Living the dream, weren't they? Saving this shit world so that all the Karens could continue complaining to the manager, entirely free of charge. Siiiigh. Wouldn't it be better to let things end while the humanity still had some dignity left? No? Okay, then.)

"Jesus fucking Christ," Inna rolled her eyes. "You're pretty relentless, you know that? Should have become a telemarketer instead-- I swear you'd talk a bald man into buying a goddamn comb. But, fine. It's not like I have anything else to do, and I guess I could use my remaining time on this earth to spite Chett." That, after all, seemed like a worthy cause-- at least to someone as aimless as Inna. (No, really, what was she even supposed to do now? Dedicate her life to bird watching? Write a book exposing the horrific working conditions Chett imposed on his hired killers? Learn a new language? The blonde had absolutely no idea.) "I'm still not drunk enough for this bullshit, though. C'mon, let's get shitfaced. Oh, and it's your treat-- since you're making me work for free and everything. Now, and for the rest of our pitiful lives. Fair enough, don't you think?"

***

When Inna woke up, the earth was moving. Well, okay, technically, the earth was always moving, but usually, it didn't have the decency to let its inhabitants know. Now, though? It was fucking swaying from side to side, as if a sea was beneath their feet, and-- oh. Oh, there was no 'as if'. They were on a fucking ship! Just, what the hell, man. Drunken decisions were funny and all, but like, shouldn't there be some sort of safeguard against this? Selling ship tickets to obviously hammered people should be fucking illegal! 'Customer protection' her ass, really. Inna rose from her bed, only to regret it immediately-- the sudden movement did funny things to her stomach, and for a second, the blonde genuinely thought she was going to meet her dinner from yesterday sooner than expected. Thankfully, the feeling went away fast. Yay! Too bad the same couldn't be said about the general feeling of hopelessness that had settled in her chest, though.

"Oh, fuck," she groaned upon noticing Liora. There she was, the bitch who had gotten them into this mess! (Inna may have agreed to it, yeah, but that didn't count. She had been drunk and vulnerable, and also too fucked up from that kiss. Liora had, uhhh... taken advantage of her rare moment of fragility. Once again, she was the victim!) "I can't believe we're actually doing this. Shit. Do you think it's too late to refund my ticket?"

As if some higher power heard her question, the door to their cabin opened-- which meant they were facing a tall, buff crew member now. (At least that was who she guessed he was? Judging by his clothes and everything. Well, it didn't matter, anyway. Not with this gross invasion of their privacy!) "You ever heard of knocking, mate?" Inna raised her eyebrow. "In case you haven't noticed, there are fucking ladies on board, and..." she didn't finish the sentence, mostly because that was the moment the sailor chose to try and punch her in the face. 'Try' was the key word, though, as Inna moved out of his way. (Oh, now she was definitely going to puke. Ugh!) "Hey, hey, hey! This is the reaction I get for wanting a goddamn refund? Calm down, bitch!"

 

[starboob]

Whatever conversation Inna has decided to start, Liora is not listening––not because she is actively trying to be rude, but because if she broke her concentration, even for a second, she would then have two gross things to deal with. However, a woman of many talents, and mainly because spewing vitriol at Inna does not require brainpower at this point, she does manage to find it in herself to hiss, "As soon as I fucking figure out how you got me drunk enough to get on a fucking––" she pauses a moment to brace herself against another stomach flip, "––boat I am going to fucking annihilate you." That is over the top, she knows this, but the discomfort is pressing against all of her buttons before Inna can even get to them.

She groans and flops over onto her side, still on her bed, regretting pretty much every single mystery decision she has made since that third shot of whiskey at the second bar. The night really does not exist to her after that and she just hopes this is as wild as their journey will get. Just a peaceful trip to––

Though of course, it's not. She doesn't see it, but she hears what sounds like the door being broken down and Inna yelling, which is as annoying as it is concerning. When she rolls over to see that there is a sailor in their cabin attacking her partner, her immediate reaction is to yell, "Seriously?!" The next impulse is to roll off of the bed and spring up to her feet––that turns out to be a bad move because it only brings on another wave of sickness. (There is no way she is ever going to let Inna talk her into drinking—she is certain of that; in fact she may make a pact with God or the gods or whoever to never poison her body again if they show some mercy.) Tragically, there isn't time to recover so she pushes through the wave as best she can and reaches for the lamp on the nightstand. She raises it over her head and brings it down, hard, onto the sailor's head just as he was about to rise to try again. The lamp shatters and the sailor's body slumps onto the bed before sliding down onto his knees and toppling over.

"Okay, what the fuck––" Not even a half minute after being hit, the sailor groans and starts to rise again and Liora does not wait to see if he has had a change of heart. She is also making a mental note that all of their usual tricks for taking out bad guys (or badder guys?) need to be updated since breaking ceramic over someone's head is no longer effective. "Alright, bitch, let's go!" She says to Inna through gritted teeth. On her way out of the cabin, she grabs the backpack and stumbles into the hallway while simultaneously wrestling with herself to keep the contents of her stomach in its proper place (her stomach).

More of the sailors start barreling towards them from one direction as she hurries through the ship and tries to navigate them towards the upper deck, "Nope, nope––not that way!" She turns around, heading back down a different corridor to avoid the killer-crew––honestly, she is not up for fighting. Not in this state.

When it seems quiet enough and she thinks they’ve lost the lot, she slows down some; then stops completely to groan and clutch her stomach—she is too stubborn to let this hangover win by throwing up. "What the hell was that all about? Also how the fuck are we on a boat? What the fuck did you get us into?" (There is just no way that Liora is claiming responsibility for this! Sure, she had insisted they follow the quest, but that does not mean that they should have proceeded so haphazardly! A sane and sober Liora would not have let herself be so reckless––so clearly this is Inna's fault. Inna and her stupid, stupid, impulsive ideas.)

Suddenly, the boat shakes and begins to creak—this is followed by a crunching noise as the hull collides against something that brings it to a stop. Liora nearly falls over but manages to catch herself on a wall and Inna’s arm (oops). Her thank you sounds like, "Great, you booked us a cruise on the Titanic."

When the boat settles, a melodic laugh rips through the ship and a cool fog begins to fill the air.

 

[Syntra]

Okay, so first of all: What the fuck? That the sailor had attacked her for no reason at all, that Inna could understand-- the world sucked, usually in wildly unpredictable ways, and this incident was just one small component of a large fucking pattern. (A shit-shaped pattern, to be precise. And, no, the blonde didn't really care that shit came in various shapes and sizes. Nitpicking wasn't cute, and besides, this was about conceptual shit-- the mental category for things that were, uhhh, shitty. ...look, don't judge her, alright? With a headache this intense, not even fucking Shakespeare would have been too flowery with his descriptions! Plus, Shakespeare was dead, which kinda made Inna the better narrator out of the two-- at least when it came to current events. ...which, haha, in your face, bitch! What was it like, being bested by someone who had barely graduated from highschool? Not so high and mighty anymore, huh? 'Literary legend' her ass!)

So, yeah, she was mostly okay with that happening. 'Disappointed, but not surprised' seemed to be the main theme of her life, after all, and so her finally catching a break or two wouldn't be thematically appropriate here. Liora's bitching, though? Now that crossed a line! Sever goddamn lines, actually, because this whole mess was unambiguously her fault. Like??? What kind of twisted logic did she follow in order to be able to blame this on her out of all people? You know, on the girl who always did everything in her power to escape anything even slightly resembling responsibility? Yeah, embarking on an insane quest to save the world sounded like something that would be right up her alley-- if you were a complete fucking moron, that was!

"Did the stick you have up your ass finally move far enough to reach your brain?" Inna spat out as they were, uh.... removing themselves from the situation. (To an outside observer, it might have looked as if they were running away, but honestly, that was such a lazy interpretation. A narrative totally devoid of any creativity! No, Inna Orlovskaya would never do something as cowardly. Not her style, baby. She might have employed strategic retreat from time to time, sure, but only so that she could return with a bigger gun later! Kinda like intrusive youtube ads, or maybe those badass cockroaches who could apparently survive a nuclear blast. Thought you'd gotten rid of them? Well, think again, 'cause they'd be back-- and Inna would as well!)

"If it hadn't been for your begging, I would have been... okay, not sure where I would have been exactly, but definitely not here! I could have been making money, you know. Robbing banks and shit, like all the decent people!" Because, as far as Inna was concerned, that was just sticking it to their capitalist overlords. Nothing morally questionable about that! Like, if they didn't want her to steal, the logical step would be to give her the cash instead. That would solve everyone's problems, but nooo, they just had to insist on their outdated social models. Well, sucked for them! Now they got to lose their money and their lives. "And yet I'm here, on this godforsaken ship, and-- aww, hell no," the blonde hissed when some guy, who seemed to be sleeping on the floor, grabbed her ankle out of the blue. The action earned him a stomp-- it was accompanied by a satisfying crack, and Inna couldn't help but smile. Ah, good old violence! When therapy was too expensive and all her friends too busy to listen to her woes, shattering someone's bones always got her through the day. "What's up with the fuckers?" she asked, completely bewildered. "Is it so hard to understand that no means no?" Not that she had had a chance to actually say no, mind you, but like, with these things, you could safely assume that it was implied. Very few people would consent to being punched in the face, you see!

One would have assumed that Liora would commiserate with her-- since, you know, shared misfortune and all that jazz. Didn't they say that facing trouble together made the heart grow fonder, or something? I suppose you'd actually need to HAVE a heart for that, Inna thought bitterly. No, really. Why couldn't she stop being such a fucking bitch for five seconds? Was her hardware overheating? Was her processor overwhelmed by all those new stimuli? 'Cause hey, if Liora needed a restart, Inna would be more than happy to shut her down! "For the last goddamn time, this was your idea. Your idea, born from your dumbass head! You should be thankful that I'm not bashing your skull against the wall as we speak, you little--"

Inna didn't finish her sentence, though. It wasn't that she didn't know what to say-- she knew that rather well, but the sight of a fucking mermaid sitting on the nearby cliffs was somewhat distracting. (She was beautiful, in this otherworldly way. Her hair was bronze, her skin sun-kissed, and her voice-- oh, that was the sweetest of melodies. Sweet enough, in fact, for Inna to want to barf.) "Wow, okay. Did I do drugs as well yesterday, or...?"

"Afraid that I'm not real?" the mermaid asked in a song-songy tone. (Somehow, even despite that, her words were knives.) "But oh, I am, my dear. I am so glad to see you again! At any rate, surely you remember the terms of engagement? A sacrifice is needed for me to let you pass through," she winked, in a manner that was... kinda flirtatious, actually. Oh, alright. Why not? There was no need for anything to make sense anymore, after all! At this point, seductive mythological creatures seemed almost normal. "So, which one of you will play with me?" Meanwhile, more and more sailors were emerging from various cabins-- a veritable army of empty-eyed, silent puppets. None of them bothered to approach them, though. No, they were... waiting for something? A command, maybe? Jesus fucking Christ.

 

[starboob]

Liora is annoyed; this is not much different than her usual state of being though it does feel more justified this time given she is now living in the world where she is hungover, on a boat with someone she mostly hates, and there is a crew hobbling after them like vengeful zombies. So whatever Inna is saying goes right through one ear and out the other, because Liora does not have time to even entertain what she is saying. Plus, she is already firing off her own automatic responses to dig into her position that this was not her own fault. (Like at all.) Even if the other's reasoning is sound enough––the dark haired woman is not one to own her faults, because that would go against her important narrative that she is perfect and can do no wrong; much like an angel. It makes it easy to tell Inna that she's, "An idiot with no sense of self-control," and that's how they ended up on a boat to save the world. However, when Inna suddenly stops her diatribe, she follows her confused gaze towards the cliffs.

(Well, now she would have to apologize to her sister for telling her that mermaids weren't real.)

The mermaid's voice grates against Liora's last nerve––she doesn't care that it's the most heavenly thing she has ever heard; there is so much else going on that she actually finds it in herself to not be the least bit dazzled. Instead, she practically snarls, "Play with you? And just who the fuck do you think you are?" Her arms cross over her chest, hip popped to the side, as she stares down the mythological being. (Now that she has had more than a second to look at her, she does think she is kind of attractive but isn't sure how she feels being drawn to a fish-woman; it is almost as questionable as being attracted to Inna for that single moment they shared outside of the bar––and that moment only.)

Princess Ariel sighs, exasperated as she rolls her eyes and replies, in a tone far too casual for comfort, "Are you saying you don't remember me, Vie? I'm offended––I thought I meant more to you than that." While Liora tries to figure out what that means and who Vie is (or was? she isn't sure), the mermaid turns to address Inna, "How are you still putting up with this? Really, I'm surprised to see either of you together at all. But I suppose she has always been your weakness, hm?"

Exactly everything that comes out of the mermaid's mouth, regardless of how pleasant it sounds, twists confusion with her cavalier and overly familiar gait––not to mention all the strange stories she seems to be spinning about them. Liora is not handling her own discomfort well (though that is not necessarily anything new) and her hand instinctively falls to her hip, where her gun usually would be––if she were wearing it. However, when she looks down, it's not there––and that is not surprising since neither of them had had the opportunity to pack up their cabin and get ready for a day of monster-fighting. Which means the gun is either below deck, or she has this horrible memory resurfacing of one of them saying, 'Who needs guns when you have fucking magic?' She ignores the sinking feeling that tells her that line belongs to her and her alone. (That is simply preposterous––she refuses to believe a part of her exists that is so thoughtless she'd sell a gun to a random.)

If she doesn't have a gun, she hopes that the same is not true for Inna. Especially now that she's starting to notice the sailors standing around them, though there is still enough distance between the two women and the zombie army that there is still time to strategize. Her pulse quickens in response to the impending danger and washes away some of the hangover––at least enough that she can stand a little straighter and think a bit clearer.

Unfortunately, she isn't given much time for peaceful thinking and planning as the mermaid becomes annoyed and croons, "You know, I don't have all day to wait around for you to decide who is going to entertain me." She then waves her hand through the air and sailors start moving forward, closing in on the women. (It's not even subtle, but Liora starts to reach for Inna's hand before stopping herself.) "If you cannot decide then I would be happy to see you both drown," her tone darkens and there is a color of vengeance in it, though that is hardly of importance.

Liora gives a sideways look over to Inna, because she isn't sure what to do or what she can do––but that doesn't mean she's given over to subjugating herself to defeat. She remembers part of last night before she blacked out where they had been experimenting with their abilities; the memories are fuzzy and, to be honest, she is not sure how real they are or if she had simply gone to bed dreaming about practicing and that had embedded itself as a memory. Anyway, real or not, it is what she has and from what she can remember concentration had been key. Though that is not necessarily easy when the sailors are coming towards them, faster now, and she narrowly misses one aiming to tackling her. "Fuck!" It's easy enough to use his own momentum to throw him overboard, but it sends her into the arms of another burly man (who needs a shower); he grabs onto her arms, holding her firmly, and threatens to push her overboard. She sends a heel back into his knee, though he is not affected and continues to dangle more of her over the ledge. "Get your fucking hands off of me!" she says, though that is not exactly what she says––that is merely the gist and tone of the foreign words that leave her lips. Unfortunately, she had not been specific about how the sailor should let go of her, so he nearly drops her into the water and she only barely catches the guard rail. "Pull me up, idiot," she says and the zombie sailor, to her surprise, does just that.

Weird, but she doesn't have time to question it because there are already more coming in to attack (and she isn't even sure how Inna is faring). Her own zombie sailor starts protecting her––which, usually, she would not want help especially from a man, but given the circumstances, she welcomes it. Under his protection, she calls over to her counterpart, "Hey, Inna, are you going to fucking show-off or what? Those flames would be fucking useful right about now!"

("Wow, this is pitiful," the mermaid taunts.)

 

[Syntra]

Once, someone very famous had said that life was like a box full of chocolates-- because allegedly, you never knew what kind of chocolate you were about to pick. That, of course, was total bullshit. Like, people usually had eyes, Karen, and so they knew exactly what they were aiming for when reaching for a candy. Had that not been the case, the rate of allergies-related deaths would have fucking skyrocketed. So, that was one problem with this piss-poor analogy. And the other, bigger issue? Her life didn't resemble chocolates at all! Since those tended to be sweet and tasty, and the same could not be said about the clusterfuck scenario that unfolded before her very eyes. Oh no, no, no. Inna's life was like a box full of shit, and every fucking time, she got to enjoy the same goddamn flavor!

Admittedly, though, this was new. Not really in its implications because the general vibe of this situation could be summarized as 'you're fucked, baby', which she was very familiar with, but the actual execution? 10/10 for originality, truly. Brainwashed sailors and malicious mermaids were something Inna didn't see every day! ...not that she wanted to see such things every day, mind you, but hey, still better than being shot in the head by Chett's goons. That would be just so impersonal, you know? They'd become just another number in those ever-growing gun violence statistics, to be recorded and then promptly forgotten about because nobody could be bothered to do shit about it. Like this, though? Their deaths would be l-e-g-e-n-d-a-r-y, and Inna-- well, Inna could kinda live with that. (Or die with that? Man, the terminology got very confusing very fast here. Where were philosophy graduates when you needed them, huh? ...preparing some burgers, most likely. And yeah, yeah, it was the oldest fucking joke in the world, but only because it was true!)

Still, being kinda sorta okay with the outcome didn't mean she'd allow the mermaid to kill her just because she asked nicely. Like??? Not how this worked, baby. Not how this worked at all! The sea bitch had to earn that privilege first. Way too many people were competing for the chance to snap her neck already, and Inna would hate to disappoint her fans. "Yeah," she shouted, once again agreeing with Liora. (A disturbing trend, really, but it couldn't be avoided. Not in this context, anyway. Like, yeah, Inna took Liora-hating seriously, and could probably teach it as a university course at this point, but that did not mean she wanted to die for her beliefs. So, no, she wasn't going to disagree with her here just to see that shocked expression on her stupidly attractive face! ...stupid. Just stupid, with no further modifiers. Man, wasn't it funny how brains did whatever they wanted? And how none of her thoughts reflected what she was really thinking! It was, uh... a pro gamer move designed to protect her from alien mind-reading devices. If what they read there was total bullshit, then they couldn't control her!) "You haven't even bought me a single drink, and I'm not that kind of girl. I'm all about romance, baby. Gotta court me first!"

It seemed that the mermaid wasn't interested in such things, though. Instead of that, she... kept inventing more bullshit, like Liora supposedly being her weakness. Which, what??? "Listen," Inna said, her temper flaring, "I have no idea what your Alzheimer-ridden ass is talking about, but I'm gonna kick it! ...your ass, I mean." Fine, fine, not one of her best retorts, but she was under duress, okay?! The implication that she and Liora shared something more than undying hatred was insulting, for fuck's sake. Just, pure slander! Especially now, in this post-kiss era. If anything, it only made her realize just how much she didn't want her! (Hmm. Following this logic, though, perhaps she should try and seduce her? Solely to expand the list of ways in which she didn't want her, of course. Gotta ascertain Liora sucked in that regard as well! ...what? It totally made sense. Pavlov had proved ages ago that negative associations were a thing, so her methods were actually backed by science. Haha!)

Not that she had a lot of time to think about that now, however. Just like Liora, Inna was suffering from a distinct lack of a gun, too-- she didn't really remember what had happened to it, but she'd unravel that particular mystery when those zombies weren't fucking trying to kill her. So, it was just her and her barely working powers, Inna guessed. You know, the ones that had cooked her goddamn hand the last time she had tried to use them in earnest? A dream configuration, indeed! "Dude, this is the worst cruise ever," the blonde rolled her eyes as she roundhouse-kicked one of her would be assailants. (And, no, this was NOT doing pleasant things to her stomach. Not at all. Still, Inna assumed that being strangled to death would be even less enjoyable, so she decided to suck it up.) "I will be demanding that refund, rest assured!" More guys approached her, but Inna did what she excelled at-- namely, she found a way to make the battle less fair for her opponents. The fact that they didn't have a weapon didn't mean she couldn't arm herself, right? And the poor paddle was just lying there, so sad and abandoned... heh. It would be such a shame if someone were to crack their skulls open with it!

She was in the middle of doing just that when Liora demanded being saved via fire. Easy for you to say, Inna thought sourly, when you aren't risking your fucking hand. Might as well ask me to shoot myself in the head, why don't you? It wasn't like she was afraid, of course. Fear was a word that was missing from her vocabulary entirely, thank you very much! To the great Inna Orlovskaya, it was just a meaningless cluster of vowels and consonants. (The same went for PTSD, by the way, and all that New Agey-bullshit. The afflictions that tormented normal mortals obviously couldn't hope to touch her!) No, the blonde was just, uhhh... exercising caution.

"Shut up and watch, bitch. I'll take them out without a single spark! Yeah, I am that good. So fucking good, in fact, that I'd feel bad about unleashing my powers against these scrubs! I-- I mean, how would that be fair?" ...the speech might have been more convincing had one of the sailors not started choking her from behind, but eh! Sometimes, things just didn't work out.

"Ah, poor little Ivy!" the mermaid giggled. "Afraid of her own powers, huh? Downright tragic, I'm telling you. And she used to be so strong, too! I guess the history won't repeat itself this time, then. Oh well! Should have known you were just a bunch of pathetic fakes, anyway."

 

[starboob]

Does Inna have to romance everyone that she is enemies with? Like way to make a girl feel special. Of course, Liora isn’t jealous but she does wonder if Inna is so desperate for love she craves it from anyone. (Also, mysteriously, she files away the piece of information that says Inna probably really does enjoy being taken out––since she's mentioned it so many times. Never know when she might have to... wingman? No, no... that’s not right.)

Anyway, she blocks a sailor's right hook and then smashes her palm upwards into his nose; he keels over; she continues to assess the situation. There is no short supply of these brainwashed henchmen and Liora realizes that focusing on these small annoyances distracts from the actual enemy. Ultimately, though, this is a later concern as she needs to get away from the current cluster of zombie muscle, first, before she can strategize how to get an attack over to the mer-devil.

“Goddamn, you are so fucking loud! Would you shut the fuck up and cast the goddamn spell already?!” If she could have done this herself, she would have but the magic manual they had been left with has already proven itself useless and she still hasn’t had a quiet moment to look at the other text to see if its anymore useful. So her knowledge on fire magic is pretty limited—well, her knowledge on all magic leaves something to be desired. Plus, between the two of them, she still believes Inna knows more given the evidence (who cares about a cooked hand if it meant saving the fucking world? Look at the bigger picture). “And since when the fuck have you ever cared about fair? You're the one who cheated and set off all the fucking traps in Howl's Murder Castle!” Liora has not watched the movie she is making a reference to as she is not a nerd––at least, not when it came to movies for children. (No, she thinks those people are completely weird and need to get a grip, face reality, pay taxes, and grow up.)

But if Inna is not going to come in for the save then she will! As soon as she figures out a plan, that is. Currently, these minor details are working themselves out as she flips another sailor over the railing. Her mother, after all, did not raise a quitter; her mother simply raised a daughter so terrified of failure she will use any means necessary to achieve her goals. And the goal right now is making sure they both survive. Honestly, Inna should consider herself lucky to be paired with someone so obviously equipped to handle any situation by virtue of this fear affliction.

Her puppet sailor continues to push back the others, though clearly three on however many is still not a fair fight. And when she looks over to see how the other third is doing only to see Inna being choked? Her first reaction is to roll her eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ. Why the fuck did Chett hire your useless ass?" Even while she is taunting the blonde, she is not wasting any time making her way over to her, along with Steve (the name she had decided to give her sailor).

Without thought (many things she does seem to be without thought these days and she wonders if that is the effect of hanging out with Inna Orlovskaya for too long––overexposure or something), she grabs the strangler’s forearm. At once, she feels a surge of something (electricity? energy? magic?) rush from her hand into his body. He tenses first, then relaxes, dropping Inna––this brings their numbers up to four (she'll call this one Evan). However, Liora isn’t convinced that she can pull this trick too many more times as controlling these guys puts a strain on her mental faculties. Already, it is difficult for her to concentrate on her own actions/thoughts on top of filling two people’s heads with impulses.

She turns to the mermaid and lashes out, “You psycho-fucking-bitch if you did your research we’re not––“ as her temper rises, storm clouds shroud around them and thunder smacks through the sky. (Okay, whatever, Mother Nature. Liora can yell just as loud––screaming with her own mother had taught her as much.) “––whoever the fuck you have beef with!”

The mermaid only rolls her eyes in response. "Your temper is as tepid as ever. I see lifetimes worth of rest has done nothing to smooth out that character quirk. Though I'm surprised you're so upset with Ivy. That seems strange, if not backwards." The words do and don't make sense to Liora, but there is little time for her to sort out her confusion as she grows more irritated with the mermaid and thus more focused on figuring out how to get her to shut up, permanently.

From the corner of her eye she spots a harpoon gun and it's pretty obvious where her next line of thinking goes as she abandons Inna and makes for it––Steve and Evan following suit. Though she has never operated one of these before her personal sailors have and intuitively, they assist. Though the mermaid seems unbothered by what is happening and when the harpoon does launch towards her, she simply raises her hand with a yawn and catches the projectile using the ocean as an extension of herself. Water encompasses the weapon in an orb and then turns it around to aim back at the ship. 'Oh... Shit,' she thinks as she skirts to the side just as the harpoon pierces into the spot where she had previously been standing. "I cannot wait to tell the others that we're finally going to be free of the chains you whores put us in," she says, continuing to taunt the women. (For a moment Liora catches a 'glitch' in the mermaid's appearance and swears she almost sees a creature rather than a fish-woman.)

"If you're just trying to draw out your own deaths, I have to say, you are doing an excellent job!"

Liora turns towards wherever Inna is and, in a rare moment, admits, "Alright, I'm all out of ideas. It's your turn to be the brain."

 

[Syntra]

'Well, obviously not for the vastness of my arcane knowledge! Since, you know, your ability to cosplay Buffy, the Vampire Slayer isn't usually the thing people look for when hiring a fucking killer,' the blonde wanted to answer. Wanted was the key word here, though, because it was kinda hard to talk with that fucker crushing her windpipe. (Sloppy work, by the way. Like, there were more efficient ways to choke a person! As an experienced choker, Inna would know. She'd rate this attempt 5/10, and that was a way more generous mark than he deserved. The grip was fine, sure, but had the idiot actually known which spot to press, she would have been out of it already. And frankly? That would have been the better outcome here! No, really. Give her a clean death over this-- this prolonged fuckery. Did she have to bribe someone into shooting her in the head, or something? Inna had thought this to be basic goddamn decency, but apparently not. Once again, the supernaturals proved that they had no place in the civilized fucking society! Who would have guessed that the Spanish Inquisition had been the true heroes all along? What a twist.)

Except that, no, the sweet embrace of death didn't come to her just yet. (Inna would have welcomed it at that point, which was probably the exact reason why it didn't work out. Damn stupid fate and its stupid tendency to do the opposite of what she wanted! ...huh. Could this be exploited if she wished not to win the lottery hard enough? Or maybe for Chett to live long and prosper? Or for Liora not to grow a moustache? Now that could be an interesting thought experiment!) Anyway, her would-be murderer suddenly let go of her, and Inna fell to her knees. She was seeing stars and her throat hurt like motherfucker, but yep, she wasn't dead. Good news, more or less, except that she wasn't dead thanks to Liora, and that kinda soured things for her. Great, just great. Yet another justification for her to be totally insufferable! Inna could imagine it in vivid colors already. 'I saved your life, your worthless little worm, so build an altar for me!' the Liora in her head said. 'Afterwards, I will need you to clean my shoes, and oh, also to kiss my feet. Or would you prefer my ass?' (...she kinda would, to be honest, but that wasn't the fucking point! And also, wtf @ her brain? Inna thought it was supposed to be her ally, dammit, and yet it kept supplying her with these weird-ass images! It had to be the lack of oxygen, really.) "Nicely done, I guess," the blonde muttered under her breath as she collected herself from the floor.

So, time to bust out the big guns, I suppose. "You passed my test," Inna announced to Liora triumphantly. "I was just, uhhh, testing your abilities. I could have beaten the fucker easily, of course, but I wanted to see whether you were worthy of working with me. Well, you are! Your prize is the wonderful Inna Orlovskaya, so, congratz," the blonde smiled as she lied through her teeth. To her credit, she didn't even blush-- like 80% of her communication with the outside world consisted of creative re-imaginings of otherwise boring, boring reality, so you could say she was used to this. (So used, in fact, that sometimes it was difficult to see where the lies ended and where the truth began. But hey, no way this could possibly backfire on her later, right? This way of life was so fucking healthy that Inna hadn't needed to visit a doctor for years! ...okay, that may have had something to do with the fact she had no health insurance plan, but whatever. Just a tiny, meaningless detail!)

"Anyway, watch this. Watch, and be amazed!" At which point Inna turned around, pointed her finger at the nearest cluster of zombies and focused on the idea of flames. Flames, bright and hot and all-consuming. "Burn, motherfuckers!" she shouted, her fears of cooking her hand again forgotten. (Or, well, not forgotten, but put aside. Like, she couldn't not use her powers after that speech, now could she? Her honor was worth more than her flesh, and besides, the idea of Liora possibly laughing at her stung more than burns. ...which was completely normal for enemies, Inna was sure. You couldn't do the whole nemesis shtick without some degree of mutual respect!! And without tension, and maybe a romantic date or two, and definitely not without releasing all that pent-up frustration in a moment of emotional vulnerability-- um. Haha. What a great sense of humor she had, right?)

The fire flared up, almost as intense as her feelings, and the air was immediately filled with the smell of burning flesh-- except it died down as quickly. Huh. What the hell, man? This was supposed to be an inferno so intense that the Devil himself would turn green with envy, not a-- a bunch of pitiful firecrackers! (Distantly, Inna realized that whatever Liora was doing also failed-- which, good. Saving her was bad enough, but had she also killed the fucking mermaid? Yeah, she would have had to change her identity and move to some distant country to escape that kind of shame.)

"Ahaha! Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. What's wrong with you?" the mermaid taunted. "Has death stolen your common sense from you as well? Balance, you stupid bitches. B-a-l-a-n-c-e! But, sure. If you want to be volatile like mercury, go ahead, Ivy. And hey, you can be as unyielding as steel, Vie. Let's see how that works out for you!"

...oookay, Inna had no fucking idea what the mermaid meant by this, or why she insisted on calling them these weird names that had no real connection to anything, but she did know one thing-- the bitch was pissing her off, and thus she was going down. How, though? If only they were closer! Then she could reach her with her flames, and... Hmmm.

"Alright. Alright, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I've got a plan." Ewww, right? Inna was the spontaneous type-- plans were for cowards and weaklings, and people who unironically made shopping lists before going to a supermarket. In other words, for people like Liora! ...shit. Could it be contagious, maybe? 'Cause Inna didn't want to turn into someone whose life had an actual direction! That would mean arriving somewhere, and she very much wasn't ready for such a commitment. Nah, running in circles was where it was at! "Could you control one of your new friends here to steer the ship? To steer it closer to Miss Scaly Tail over there? I'll fucking incinerate her once I'm able to actually reach her. I'll, uhh... watch your back as well, I suppose." Because enemy of my enemy, and so on and so forth. It wasn't like she wanted Liora to survive this intact, or something. No, no, no, that would have been just silly!

 

[starboob]

"You're like a fucking villain that doesn't know when to stop fucking monologuing!" She may or may not be talking to both Inna and the mermaid, but it is said generally enough even she isn't sure who her intended target is––just, some quiet would be nice. After all, that hangover is not gone, just merely ignored while she occupies the minds of two men (it really is as disgusting up there as you can imagine, a literal locker room of sorts––unlike Liora's nice records room) and fends off the other zombies. All this adds to her mounting agitation and manifests itself in the (darkening) air around her.

Though she is disappointed she missed Inna's fire power (it's pretty mesmerizing––anyone could get lost in it), it is apparent it was not nearly as successful as it had been the first few times. Which, honestly, blows because she had been hoping for the unfair magic advantage to finally start working in their favor. So far, it only seems to be biting them in the ass no matter where they turn.

Anyway, Liora is more than happy to follow Inna's direction and let her take control of the situation—somehow finding it in herself to trust a plan that didn’t come from her own head. So for the endurance of this temporary alliance, she quiets the impulses that tell her to chew her out every five seconds (now it will be spaced out to at least 30 seconds). Besides, like Inna, she is tired of this mythological boss. Especially with all the confusion she draws out of her with these very specific and very convinced taunts; they make the woman increasingly uncomfortable as they seem to be keys to some locked cabinets deep, deep within the machinations of her mind. And she isn't certain she wants them opened––least of all, not when she is in the middle of stopping the start to a demonic apocalypse. No, please, keep the sensory overload to a minimum before the last pathetic remnants of Liora's humanity exit on their own accord.

"Yeah, I think so," she says, acknowledging the plan and casting her hand over towards the helm of the ship to send her sailors over to commandeer it; she figures if Steve and Evan still could operate the harpoon gun because she wanted them to––accessing whatever knowledge existed in their brains to do so while still under her grip––so she guesses they can still operate the boat. Yes, she prefers to use tried and true methods, but the Inna Effect is powerful and the condition has accelerated since the prior night. (Perhaps they got a little too close...)

And now without her bodyguards protecting her, Liora, decidedly, sticks close to Inna while Steve and Evan take the boat closer to the cliff's edge. On top of that working, the amount of zombie sailors does seem to be thinning out––though they had been difficult to get to stay down, for the most part they seem to have been beaten, bludgeoned, thrown overboard, or burnt and their bodies littered about the deck. Some still fly in with fists, but their moves are predictable by now and so long as she is paying attention, she manages to collect minimal damage.

Unfortunately, the relief is not long lasting. Just as they are getting within range of the sea-bitch, she fucking cheats and whirlpools the ocean around her to bring her onto the ship! And, much to her complete displeasure, the mermaid is actually much larger that Liora had initially anticipated––at least 9ft / 274cm tall; also, the way the water supports her bottom half—the way she manipulates it, she starts to look more like Ursula rather than Ariel as watery tendrils begin to form and then... Liora sighs, in complete disbelief, because the water starts to change, morph, gel, and solidify into actual fucking tentacles. Honestly, she might be starting to understand why Inna uses humor to cope because this had to be fucking joke! "Alright, how is this fucking fair..." she grumbles to no one in particular, but she assumes Inna will respond with something snarky or remind her about how she has no interest in saving the world so this all is her own damn fault. 'Well, no one forced you to get on the boat, bitch.’

"Is this close enough...?" she whispers, grabbing the blonde's hand and pulling her back, as if this were a very natural and habitual thing for her to do. (Yes, she did want the blonde to solve this very large problem but she also didn't want her being completely stupid about it like she seems to have a habit of doing! Then Liora would have to heal her again and well.) She lets go of Inna's hand a half second later. For no other reason than hand holding not being their deal. “This would be so much easier if we had a weapon.”

“I am going to relish in tearing you two apart—it would have been nice if you two could actually put up a decent fight,” she says with a shrug, launching her slippery appendages their way. Which, Liora dodges one aimed at her foot but another coils up her unsuspecting arm and the mermaid yanks her forward. “But a win is a win and your discord means our reign is near.”

 

[Syntra]

At this point in her life, Inna was used to assorted bullshittery. She was used to groceries getting more and more expensive with each passing second, and also to various sect members ignoring the 'fuck off with your pamphlets, Satan rules' sticker on her mailbox. Hell, she was used to sharing the same planet with Liora, which tested her self-control every goddamn day. And with the supernaturals added into the mix? Yep, nothing could possibly surprise her anymore. From now on, Inna would walk through life with a stoic smile on her face, only ever expressing emotions through subtle eyebrow movements and the occasional sardonic remark. Girls would fall all over her, too, because man, they loved that Byronic hero shit. And since she was actually trying to save the world? Inna technically counted as one! She'd start smoking cigars, too, because cigars were classy. Never again would she raise her voice, and--

"Hey, what the fucking fuck?" the blonde shouted as she watched the mermaid's unholy transformation into... something. Something unmentionable, which only those who frequented the darkest corners of the internet dared to talk about. "Like, is she allowed to do this?" Inna asked nobody in particular, putting her hand on her hip. (The quintessential 'I want to speak to your manager' pose, truly.) "I'm pretty sure there must be some kind of law against this. I mean, if there's a law revolving around giving Englishmen the right to shoot Scots with a bow after the sunset, this base is bound to be covered as well." Something about transformations being copyrighted by the Pokémon company, maybe? (...what? It wasn't that farfetched. People copyrighted the shit out of everything, to the point Inna was mildly surprised that some stupid corporation didn't own the color blue yet. Besides, that way, the copyright laws could finally accomplish something that wasn't concentrated fucking evil!!!)

"Um. I guess," Inna whispered, her gaze lingering on their joined hands for a second longer than it was necessary. Just, what was Liora doing? Laying the groundwork for an elaborate prank? Stealing her life-force via some spell she had conveniently learned a second ago, just like with that new mind control shtick of hers? Because, dude, this was still Liora. It didn't matter that she kinda sorta kissed well, or that her eyes weren't totally ugly when you, uhhh... actually looked at them? Anyway, Liora was Liora, and everyone knew she was physically incapable of not fucking everyone over. Next to her, even the Antichrist looked like an innocent baby sucking on a lollipop! (...the bigger concern, then, was why, exactly, Inna allowed this. Why, instead of fighting for her freedom, she gave her a reassuring squeeze. Um. She was-- she was trying to lull her into a false sense of security, obviously! Right. By pretending that she knew not of her nefarious intentions, Inna could strike when Liora least expected it. ...perhaps she really did deserve the title of a strategic genius!)

"Yeah, yeah, fuck off," Inna rolled her eyes. "If I wanted to hear cheesy villain speeches, I'd go to a conservative rally." (Which, shudder. Like, the blonde may have been a hired killer, but she had her morals, thank you very much.) And because she wasn't really interested in more self-righteous bullshit, Inna raised her hand and focused. Truly focused, which was the kind of undivided attention she usually dedicated to videogames only. (So, the mermaid had criticized her for being too volatile, huh? Okay, let's try something else! Since, you know, Inna was a well-adjusted individual who accepted constructive criticism and the like. Hahaha.) "Burn, bitch!" And-- huh. Perhaps the mermaid wasn't full of shit, really, because the flames that ignited the air around them? Oh yeah, she was feeling them. It was a fucking wall of fire-- multiple walls, actually, and they formed this really nifty cage around the sea bitch. Except that, unlike with a real cage, the walls moved closer and closer, until she had no space to maneuver in at all, and then there was no other choice left to her aside from burning. "See what happens to the enemies of Inna Orlovskaya?" the blonde shouted, nearly delirious from all that adrenaline. (...huh, so this is what magic could feel like. It wasn't just chaos and cooked hands, but this-- this funny feeling in her chest? Almost like seducing pretty girls, but somehow better? ...okay, okay, so Liora had been right about something once. Big deal! Stopped clocks, and all that.) "You'll be erased from the fucking history, you little shit. Nobody will remember your name, mainly because you didn't even have the decency to introduce yourself!" Wow, what a roast. Maybe Inna should work on cool one-liners in advance? Because this seriously undermined the sheer badassery of her accomplishment! "So, in short, burn and die."

It should have been smooth sailing from now on (hehe), but when the mermaid started chuckling, Inna had an inkling that this, uh, might be more complicated after all. "Nice try, Ivy. You always did learn fast, you know? Sadly, you've never learned how to pick friends." And with that, the mermaid flicked her... tail? No, not a tail. It was a fucking tentacle, and it put out the flames in an instant, and, what?! The mermaid was gone, alright. It was only gone because there was a goddamn black mass of tentacles in its stead, though-- tentacles that were swirling, and doing all those tentacle-y things. Also, when they all moved to one side? The movement revealed a large, smiling mouth. Uh oh.

"Congratulations on burning my disguise, I guess! It was my favorite one, though, so I'll have to kill you in some extra nasty way."

Some kind of instinctive, primal horror settled in her heart, and for a moment, Inna wanted nothing more than to run away-- which she honestly might have done had it not been for the fact she wasn't fucking Moses. As it was, though? Nah, she had to fight! "Keep dreaming, baby. I'll just burn the rest of you as well!" ...which, uh, didn't really work out. For some reason, the flames refused to touch her? They hovered a few centimeters above the black thing, as if they were too grossed out to get closer. (Mood, Inna thought.) "So simple-minded. Your fire cannot hurt me, little one. Not with the level of magical protection I have at my disposal. Now, my turn!"

"Ah, shit!" And yeah, that characterized the situation quite well. The tentacles fucking charged at them, and Inna only had a few seconds to react-- a few seconds that she used to drag Liora (and herself) behind one of those large boxes the ship was littered with. It didn't seem like the tentacles minded too much, though. No, they just grabbed some poor sailor that got in their way and threw him in that thing's fucking mouth! Wow, talk about employee rights. It swallowed him whole, so-- Swallowed him whole. Hmmm. "Okay," Inna whispered to Liora, not bothering to examine why she had bothered to ensure her safety as well, "I think we should just... get eaten. Casting spells while inside of that thing might just work! Since I kinda doubt the magical protection covers its fucking stomach." ...what? It was called thinking outside of the box, Karen. (Well, that, or alternatively, 'Inna losing her marbles'. Depended on your point of view!)

 

[starboob]

Though Liora does not let on that fear is rapidly starting to heat in her stomach, calm washes over her when Inna offers that small gesture of reassurance. It doesn't go unnoticed and a small chalk mark tick is added to the 'Inna is Okay' column in her brain (the other side, the one that is labelled 'Inna is Bad,' is much fuller; though progress is progress and this particular gesture may stick around in her reel of passing thoughts for at least the next three days).

The fire warms something inside of Liora, too, as she becomes a captive audience to the flames that ensnare the monstress––truly, wholly mesmerized. Though the peace and calm she gets from the display only lasts so long. Especially when it becomes clear that they are not going to have any effect on her. Her mistake for hoping that this could be easy and would be solved with a single effort. "For fuck's sake," she mumbles as she watches the monstress transform again and gladly goes in the direction the blonde pulls her towards as a flurry of tentacles come their way.

While Liora does not have a better plan than the one Inna has just suggested, she does think she has lost her marbles. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" she hisses out in a hushed whisper as she pops her head over the container to watch the tentacle beast consume another sailor; she doesn't notice that the beast is just swallowing them whole. Maybe if she had she would have understood and trusted the blonde more, but as of right now she is not going to put blind-faith into the faithless. Getting eaten by the monstress does not exactly seem like it's on the path as saving the world; it actually seems counterintuitive to the whole mission! This would be just like Inna, too, coming up with a plan that would fail. 'What a creative way to say you're giving up.' She doesn't even need to say that, because it's written so plainly on her face that anyone would have to try and ignore the stank of it.

So her first answer is no, they are not going to throw themselves into the mouth of a fucking tentacle orb. Instead, they will go with the half baked alternative; or at least she will go with her half-baked alternative. Which... Okay, she doesn't even have anything half-baked; her brain is pretty fried controlling two sailors and setting aside that headache from earlier. She just really is against the idea of hopping into the jaws of the beast and she does try to come up with something, fast. The monstress had given them a few tips so far; (1) don't be as unyielding as steel (whatever that means, Liora is obviously completely malleable) and (2) she has protective spells surrounding her. She knows the latter is why Inna had come up with her idiocy in the first place, so she needs something better.

And better, unfortunately, does not come. The box they had been hiding behind is castaway by a stream of tentacles and before either of them could have reacted, Liora feels the wet muscles wrapping around her torso and she does not give Inna the chance to run––this had been her stupid idea even if she is not consenting to its execution––because she grabs the blonde just as she's being pulled into its mouth.

Her eyes shut tight as she imagines Death pulling her life force from her as she enters the abyss. Though the abyss? It's just more tentacles and Death is taking her sweet time coming to reap her soul. The slippery, puckered arms continue to wrap around her and threaten to restrain her until all she can do is be crushed or torn apart under the pressure. She thrashes against them and breaks one arm free; immediately she wildly beats away the other masses coming her way and as she does so her hand makes contact with something... At first she thinks it's one of the sailors that had been consumed before but its too small, whatever this object is. The tip of her finger brushes against it once more and her eyes follow upwards where she sees the end of a jeweled hilt; it calls to her and she reaches for it, clasping her hand around it.

As she starts to pull on the hilt, dislodging whatever it is from the writhing appendages, Liora can feel the monstress' hundred year anger surge through her own veins (she thinks she's screaming something too, but she cannot decipher it from inside its "stomach"). When she pulls it out, the hilt doesn't appear to have a blade, tip, or edge; it only appears to be a fancy hilt but that doesn't mean Liora believes it's useless (well, she does but intuition is telling her to wait before the judge brings down the gavel). Instead, the jeweled end casts a string of light towards another jeweled point in the beast not too far away from herself though still out of reach. She searches around the beast for Inna, not as concerned with how she is fairing as she is kind of like a cockroach in terms of resiliency in life or death situations. "Do you see that?" she points towards the glistening end with her free arm, "Gra––" Though before she finishes, a tentacle smacks across her cheek and wraps around her mouth––which gross she is definitely going to have a questionable relationship with seafood following this. While she does bite down on the limb, the monstress' blood is so putrid she cannot clamp her jaw long enough before she's automatically coughing against it and the tentacle wraps tighter around her.

 

[Syntra]

Ahh, that signature, signature stank face of hers! Inna had missed it so much-- almost to the same extent she would miss a bullet in her fucking stomach, really. Well, I suppose I can only blame myself here, the blonde thought sourly. You know, for forgetting that she's a massive goddamn bitch! The previous day, when presence had been slightly more pleasant than the idea of someone gouging her eyes out with barbed wire? The constant hand-grabbing, that had been... kinda nice, all things considered? Yeeeah, just some weird glitch in the Matrix. Nothing to see here! (And, no, she did not feel hurt over her dismissal. For starters, Inna did not have such ridiculous feelings-- the only emotion she allowed herself to feel was anger, and she was pretty fucking happy with the choice. Would recommend, ten out of ten. Anger was fuel, you see-- unlike sorrow and other, totally useless impulses humanity had developed due to some evolutionary error. So, naturally, Inna had discarded those! ...and even if she was weak like that, the one to inspire such feelings in her definitely wouldn't be Liora. Nuh uh.)

"Dunno," Inna shrugged. "Are you? I mean, if you want to sit there and throw spells at this impenetrable fucking barrier, then be my guest. Not my favorite brand of entertainment, though!" Stupid fucking Liora and her stupid, unsolicited commentary. No, really, was this her idea of constructive criticism? The employee of the month, truly! "If you have a better plan, though, then I'm all fucking ears. Care to share some of your brilliant, brilliant insight, love?"

Unsurprisingly, she didn't-- most likely because she didn't have any. Inna wasn't a mind reader, of course, but Liora possibly not seizing an opportunity to lecture her? Not bloody likely! Nah, her head must have been as empty as her cruel, blackened heart. (Haha, serves you right, dumbass. Next time, think before you open your stupid, kissable mouth!) The blonde's glee over that didn't really last long, though. And as for why? Because they fucking received a one-way ticket to the belly's beast! (Or more precisely, Liora had, but apparently, she decided that Inna would just love the chance to gaze at the monster's entrails. Wow, thank you, bitch. The best birthday present ever!) "Hmph-- what the fucking fuck, Liora?!" Liora, Liora, Liora. The name resonated so strongly in her mind it was practically deafening; she heard it over and over, like some fucking broken record. (Maybe it wasn't a record that was broken, though. Maybe-- no. Fuck off, feelings. No point in thinking about that when they were being devoured alive!!)

So, the good news was that the kraken-looking motherfucker had, indeed, swallowed them without biting. (Again, the bar was on the floor, but Inna was beginning to get used to this. Being eaten by mythological beings? Cool, cool, why not. Just another fucking Tuesday!) The bad news, however? The tentacles were apparently inside of that thing as well. Which, what kind of Darwin-defying bullshit? What exactly was their goddamn purpose here, huh? To show off? 'Ooooh, look how many tentacles I have! Two million for the price of one million, sucker' type of deal? Either way, Inna was not impressed.

The discovery of the sword didn't really impress her, either; a) it looked ridiculously tiny in comparison to their fleshy prison, so it kinda felt as if she was about to fight an angry tiger with a toothpick, b) the weapon was lodged into the fucker so firmly that Inna just could. not. get. it. out. Aaargh! And Liora? Oh, Liora was just chilling there, allowing herself to be eaten. Great, just great. ...except that, no, it wasn't! Nobody but Inna could kill Liora, dammit. The showdown between the two of them would be fucking epic, you see, and some overgrown shrimp couldn't take that away from them. Not so anticlimactically, anyway. And so, without thinking, Inna straight up hugged Liora. (The contact with her skin, Inna knew, would protect her. How? Look, she didn't fucking make the rules. No, she just followed that faint, not-quite-voice in the back of her head that told her that things would be just peachy. That they'd beaten the Seafood Menace once already, and so they could do it again. ...huh?) "Just a warning, love-- it might get a little hot around here," the blonde smiled as she pulled the other woman even closer, regardless of the tentacles. And afterwards? Everything fucking exploded in flames, white and hot and fierce.

 

[starboob]

For the record, Liora is not trying to get ripped apart and become part of the monstress' life force, thank you very much. It's just that she does not possess incredible super human strength that would have allowed her to free herself from her current, perilous tangle. It's frustrating feeling this powerless. Though it only lasts a few seconds longer as she feels something familiar embrace her; it takes her a minute to place it, the familiarity, but she realizes that Inna has wrapped herself around her and, for once, welcomes the safety she intuitively associates with it.

She rolls her eyes at Inna's cheesy-heroic line, but does her best to hold onto her and close any distance between them. Even when the tentacles drop from her figure, she's still glued to the blonde. A few more seconds are all she needs to gather her facade and put it back together lest the other woman think she actually needed that saving (she very much did; how she has gotten away with ignoring the obvious on the daily and has lived to be her big age? One of life's greatest mysterious). Though, despite that and somewhat surprisingly, when she does pull away from Inna it's slow and she keeps her grip on her shirt as she does so. There's a half second where she looks at her, smelly, sweaty, bloody from defeating the Seafood Buffet Boss and those coal eyes that usually burn so hot you can't even see into that corny window to the soul? Well, the look is something soft and genuine. It expresses gratitude she could never verbalize herself (she doesn't know how––the words are lodged in her throat like a rock but she swallows instead of releasing them).

All of that, though, is gone in an instant––one could even doubt its existence in the first place with how quick she is to lock away that part of herself. Liora does not show her softness with anyone––even if they had just saved her life and are wrapped in an attractive package. "You can get off me now," she says and, rather than offer a thanks or some other comment, she puts her hands on the blonde's shoulders to shove her backwards.

The action, though definitely a result of her inability to express her budding feelings, could also be chalked to the discomfort in her stomach as adrenaline leaves to make room for sickness––as nearly immediately after she is running towards the railing with her hands clutching her abdomen. She throws her upper half over the barrier and empties the contents of her stomach into the sea (it's like she's throwing up things she hadn't even eaten yet). It's definitely not the sexiest thing she could have done after being saved from a weeb's erotic fantasy––but neither is shoving her savior. At least this definitively kills whatever mood had been created when she lingered in her arms longer than necessary. 'Just end me.'

She tries to not think much of the embarrassment or the ghost of disappointment that she hadn't taken advantage of Inna saving her by rewarding with something other than a shove. Instead she gathers her self-respect and turns around so that she is facing the deck with her back against the rail, looking over all the carnage. 'I am not cleaning up this shit.'

And then, something occurs to her to about earlier, coming back to her in a flash noise and she whips around to look at that annoying Knight in Shining Armor. When she makes eye contact with the other, she doesn’t look angry or sick or even exhausted. Instead, the hint of surprise is plain on her features. “I didn’t think you actually knew my name.”

 

[Syntra]

Naturally, Inna wanted to let go of Liora. Holding her was a lot like holding a venomous spider, you see, but probably more dangerous. (Like, sure, spiders were demonic creatures from the deepest pits of hell, probably created by god to spite her specifically. Clearly, peace among her and the little fuckers had never been an option. At the same time, though? Despite all of her biases, even Inna admitted that spiders did have some bro-potential. Eating mosquitos, for example, was one mighty fine thing they did. Also, they mostly tended to leave you alone as long as you didn't bother them-- which, good for them! A sign of a healthy, mature individual, really. It was also something Liora was chronically incapable of, hence why Inna thought her to be the bigger pain in the ass.) So, yeah, Inna didn't wish to tempt the fate. She wanted to let go of her, maybe utter a cool one-liner or two, and probably fucking go to sleep because nothing about this was not soul-draining. Like, who did she have to kill here in order to get one. goddamn. break?! God himself? Good, good. No problem! Just descend from the heavens and taste Inna's fist, you flood-triggering, petty asshole with a god complex, and... wait. Did it still count as a god complex when you were actually a god?

Except that then Liora looked at her like that, and Inna... well, she may have melted, just a little bit. (Listen, anyone would have gotten lost in her eyes, okay?! So, not her fault! Besides, most people looked at Inna as if she was a particularly resilient stain on their favorite t-shirt, meaning that this was a pleasant change of pace. Something, something, variety being the spice of life.) "Um. I..." What did she want to say, even? Jesus fucking Christ, Inna had no idea. This showed on her face, too-- more than anything else, she seemed a little scared. Scared, uncertain, lost. You know, all those distinctly not-Inna things? She watched Liora with wide eyes, too, and didn't move an inch. The tension in her shoulders was massive, too, and like, did she actually expect her to do something? But what and why? Inna was the fucking doer here! (...because, every time she had relied on someone to do something, it had gone to hell. All those scars proved it. But, hey, maybe it could be different this time? Maybe the anticipation would turn into something sweet?)

Naturally, that was when Liora shoved her. Ah, okay. Inna wasn't at all sure why she had expected literally anything else, though the reality check was appreciated. No, really. Her stupid-ass brain had almost come to a certain pretty dangerous conclusion, you see, and these things had to be nipped in the bud! So, no, she wasn't angry. She wasn't even disappointed, mostly because this was Liora and shit like that was exactly what Liora did. Would you get mad at a bull for fucking you up after waving a red flag around? No? It was similar here, really-- except that 'red flag' had to be substituted for 'existing in her general vicinity'. "Oh?" Inna raised her eyebrow, swallowing her bitterness. (It... didn't really work, though she decided to ignore that. Ahhh, the ultimate was of solving problems! Applicable in every situation, truly.) "I could have sworn it was you who held me in place, actually, but I suppose that truth is subjective! Maybe you were actually screaming and crying and begging me to fucking release you. I guess we'll never know!"

As Liora puked (gross), Inna approached the similarly gross pile of charred remains and pulled one of the swords out of it. The weapon was pristine, practically shiny-- for some reason, the flames hadn't been able to touch it. (...if only she could remain this unaffected. Unaffected by these strange new powers, the catastrophes that seemed to stalk her whenever she went, and by Liora as well. By this-- this total fucking bullshit! No. Just, breathe. None of this will help you, anyway. It's not like anything will change just because YOU don't like it.)

"Hmm?" she hummed, refusing to meet Liora's eyes. This, of course, wasn't caused by her discomfort or the plethora of other, inexplicable feelings the other woman seemed to spark within her! Nah, son. Inna was just terribly occupied with watching her badass sword and the way it reflected sunlight, or something. A-e-s-t-h-e-t-i-c-s. "I know your fucking name. I just don't like the sound." Which, true. It made her feel nervous, for reasons she couldn't comprehend-- maybe bad karma? Look, Inna wasn't paid for examining her thought processes. (She wasn't paid for anything, to be more precise, because the fucker had fired her!) "I just assumed we were dying, and that you might appreciate hearing it. Thanks for the assassination attempt, by the way. That's so like you." ...huh. Where had that one come from? Inna wanted to say more than that, but suddenly, a chill ran down her spine.

"...hahahaha... Do you think that it's that easy to destroy me, bitches?"

Alarmed, Inna turned around, and... uh. The black bits were actually coalescing together? "Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me!"

 

[starboob]

Truthfully? Regret eats at her immediately. The shove felt important and self-preserving in the moment and yet now she doesn’t feel quite as good. This kind of sick feeling settles in her stomach with a different kind of weight than the prior one and she knows it won’t go away as easily as opening her mouth and retching up everything left in her––but she is hopeful it will go away otherwise. She doesn’t have many experiences handling regret, because Liora doesn’t feel regret or guilt or shame or apologetic––absolutely not! If she is going to do something, she will own the entire action with her head held high; she isn’t a dog with a tail to put between her legs. This would go away on its own; she only needs to remind herself the reasons behind the action and ground herself in the logic of it all. Really, the machinations of Liora’s mind are quite efficient, albeit convoluted, but they do many things to protect her (mainly from herself—and one could argue she desperately needs to confront that beast).

Also, Inna’s response only... makes her regret thicker, slower moving, almost like molasses the way it sticks to her (and twice as disgusting to eat on its own). That swirls like a whirl pool in the pit of her stomach, because honestly? She likes the sound of her name from Inna’s sweet mouth. It reminds her she had never been particularly kind saying hers––in fact made three times the effort to pack as much resentment into those two syllables. She makes a quiet note to try it differently––in the privacy of her shower thoughts since it seems like thats the only space she’ll be getting from the blonde––seeing as the Universe (and maybe to a lesser degree, Chett) had conspired against both of them and assigned them as lab partners for life. (She doesn’t feel bitter or annoyed acknowledging this, interestingly). The guilt trip about her nearly dragging Inna into the jaws (tentacles?) of death stings too––but triggers more automatic anger than guilt and that? That is something she can hold onto and, with luck, burn it hot enough to melt away all those other things she is ill-equipped to handle. “Sure, because you aren’t just waiting to fling me into Death’s arms,” most evidence pointed to the contrary, actually, "You've threatened to fucking blow my brains out enough."

She runs her fingers through her tangled hair as she wrestles with her tongue to let go of the flavor of bile; let go of the taste of regret; the sample of disappointment. Where is anger? Why isn't it stronger? She pops herself off the rail and picks up the empty hilt she had dropped, most likely when she had clung to Inna like a koala. As she inspects it, she thinks of clever things to shoot back at Inna; though, perhaps luckily, the blade that seems to spring from the handle with a shnk distracts from that endeavor.

Well, that and the grating sound of the monstress’ voice echoing through the air. Liora almost believes she is hallucinating––that the combination of an empty stomach, adrenaline, and perhaps tasting monster blood has put her on some acid trip. Unfortunately, when her head snaps up in response, she only watches as the entity reforms into a similarly nasty beast that she had been only minutes prior. At least they had swords this time? "What is it going to take to kill this bitch..." she mumbles. While Liora is not an expert monster killer––it is surprising that these things don't go down as easily, say, a regular mortal.

Instinctually, she twirls the sword with her wrist as she brings it upwards (a signature from her first life though she doesn't, herself, register the action as familiar) and sweeps into a fighting stance––as if she had done this a hundred times before. Disjointed memories seem to not only fill her mind but her body as well as she stands against the monstress. She feels more confident this time having the weapon in her grasp. "How many times are we going to take you out?!"

"Perhaps if you two were better suited for each other, you'd actually be able to come up with an effective way to kill me––but continue on as I much enjoy living. Your discord already tastes so delicious." Though the monstress doesn't really have a face anymore, Liora can still feel the smile in her words. 'I'm going to smack that fucking smile from her... words.'

She also does not seem to be concerned by their shiny new toys and attacks in the same manner she had before––meaning, she launches another slurry of tentacles towards them. However, instead of running, this time Liora pivots only slightly before arcing her sword upward and cutting through the appendages as if they were not more than soft butter. In response, the beast screeches and pulls back the sizzling limbs. "Not so fucking tough now," she mumbles, scooting closer over to Inna––it felt safer to be closer to her. Besides, she could protect her better that way (???).

Of course, the montress is strategizing as well and switches from tentacles to raising the ocean so it brings the ship up in a swell and then suddenly drops when she releases the water. Which, of course, if that were not enough to knock her opponents off their feet, she follows by bringing up a wave to crash over the deck.

 

[Syntra]

"At this point? I really have no fucking idea. Like, seriously. What is this, some stupid anime boss fight where we're supposed to have flashbacks of our traumatic pasts before we're allowed to wrap things up? That was stupid back in the middle school and it's even stupider now!" the blonde complained. Just like Liora, she, too, raised her sword-- an action that was probably incredibly foolish considering the fact she had only ever seen those in cheap action flicks before, but you know what? Fuck common sense. Perhaps binging fantasy movies actually could turn her into a master swordswoman! Something, something, visual learning. (Well, that, and the sword also called for her. Inna wasn't really an expert on, uhhh, sword psychology, but it seemed pretty obvious to her that it wanted her? And pretty intensely, too. That wasn't at all weird, by the way-- if anything, it felt right, and she hardly cared to dissect the situation beyond that. Like, everyone knew that as long things felt right, they were good for you! That philosophy hadn't failed her yet.)

"Discord this, discord that. Is that the only catchphrase you have? Like, I'm not sure if you noticed, but thesauruses fucking exist, and they contain some pretty exciting words. Might want to check one of those bad boys out! " Automatically, Inna re-positioned herself so that her back was touching Liora's-- she, of course, did it solely to avoid having to look at her stupid face. (...okay, maybe also so that she could defend her more effectively. But like, this actually meant nothing, you see?! It wasn't that she enjoyed protecting her dumb ass, or that the idea of her dying on this ship genuinely frightened her. Oh no, no, no. It was, uhhh... just strategic thinking! If Liora survived this clusterfuck, after all, Inna was more likely to survive as well-- safety in numbers was a thing, you fucking genius. So, don't even try to blame feelings here! Feelings that Inna did. not. actually. have, thank you very much.)

"Time to make some sashimi, huh?" she smirked at Liora before turning around and cutting off a few tentacles herself. It... actually went pretty smoothly? Honestly, Inna had half-expected to cut her own hand off accidentally, but no, no such thing happened. In fact, swinging it around felt pretty fucking cool. Almost as if she had been born to do this, or something! (Dude. What if swords actually behaved like giant kitchen knives, and everyone who knew how to cut bread was actually decently good at swordplay? If that was the case, then humanity had fucked up severely by discarding them! ...and, yeah, the explanation sounded ridiculous even to her, but what other interpretations were there? Her being a natural? The sword just injecting the skill into her via some advanced magical bullshittery? Hahah-- wait, all of those were actually plausible! Okay, just... don't think. Why would you ruin this by thinking when you can, I don't know, enjoy being a sword-wielding badass instead?)

Which was a great plan, actually-- or would have been, had the kraken-looking abomination not chosen to fight unfairly. (Just, ugh. How dared she? Not following the rules was Inna's area of expertise! Besides, controlling water was ridiculously overpowered when their arena was surrounded by the fucking ocean. In conclusion, where was a goddamn referee when you needed them?!)

Miraculously, though, Inna managed to grab a railing, and she held on to it for dear life. (Most likely, that wasn't an exaggeration. All those unconscious sailors who fell overboard? Yeeeah, the blonde suspected they weren't going to be okay anytime soon. Especially since the monstress devoured most of them!) "I swear, you stupid piece of shit, once I'm done with you, I'm gonna pour a gallon of gasoline into the ocean every fucking day to drive all of your relatives to extinction!" No, really. The ocean was full of big, scary things, and clearly, none of them could be trusted. Plus, collective punishment was the epitome of justice, right?

Justice they wouldn't get, by the way, because the monster kept performing its unfair tricks. Wish I could fucking control water as well, Inna thought. I'd hold the fucking flood in place, and... huh. Somehow, that was exactly what ended up happening-- the water hung in air, levitating a few centimetres above the ship. (...okay. Should she have wished for a million dollars instead? Because this kind of seemed like a wasted opportunity.) "I think I'm responsible for this," Inna announced to Liora nonchalantly, as if she was discussing weather. "Branching out, I guess. Anyway, if you wanna go all stabby on her, this would be the right time. No pressure, though! I'm sure I can grow additional superpowers if you let me stew in my misery." Since, yeah, this actually wasn't all that pleasant. The water was so heavy! It kinda felt like-- like trying to lift a fucking house with her pinky finger, except that the pinky finger was her brain and it hurt, goddammit.

 

[starboob]

Now Liora is glad that she had thrown up earlier, because this nifty new roller coaster trick is definitely daring her to find something else to hurl. And there is little she can do to even process just how big of a nerd her colleague-for-life truly is, because holding her hand over the railing seems to be the far more important thing to focus on as they crash back down into the sea. (She is pretty sure there are less annoying ways to kill them and finds it difficult to rationalize raising the ocean instead of, say, literally anything else?) When the wave comes up overhead, she is almost certain she'll end up in the sea and braces for that possibility; though it never comes. The wave never touches her and when she looks over at Inna, who confirms what is happening, she finds it annoying that she's already got two elements under her belt! That and this officially means Inna has saved her ass twice now and she doesn't quite like how that settles.

"Well, shit, could you at least do something more useful than just fucking holding it in place––like big fucking deal," because Liora is incapable of saying 'thank you' or offering some encouragement that might have been able to inspire Inna to put the ocean back into the ocean (where it belongs). If being criticized her entire life had taught her anything, it is that criticism (and living under impossible expectations where the goal is never clarified) is an effective motivator. She is the living proof.

"Yeah––sure, while I go kill the fucking thing you can just chillax and hang out here," her words are sharp, but it's all to hide her fear. While she knows that Inna is keeping them from getting swept away, this is the only way she knows how to tell her that she is terrified to face that kraken atrocity on her own. The last time she had tried to fight evil on her own she hadn't been entirely successful––'What the fuck?' She tries to shove this line of thinking aside, but the beast, as if sensing this familiar confusion, croons once more, "You know you can't do this alone, Vie. You've already tried that."

Agitation practically pops the vein in Liora's neck as she whips around (wait, why is she responding to that name?); her sword is held tightly in her fist as she storms towards the creature and practically leaves thunderclaps with each step she takes. Fear no longer exists as blind spite take over. "You really need to learn when to shut the fuck up," she spits, charging towards her without an immediate plan in mind.

"No, I'm being serious here––you need her." Her voice doesn't just claw at Liora's eardrums, it strikes a nerve that reverberates through her deep self; it slowly opens a vaulted door in her psyche. Supercuts of a past life (her past life?) flash through her mind and almost stop her in her tracks; they almost distract her enough that she nearly misses a sweep towards her legs. Sepia memories overwhelm her. Something in her chest begins to scratch against its cage. She almost drops her sword as she fights against whatever is now attacking her from the inside, haunting her mind. It takes nearly all of her concentration (and therefore letting go of her hold on Steve and Evan) to push this flood of memories back into their vault. No, she is not going to have any existential revelations while in the middle of fighting the latest challenger in her increasingly weird life! She is not going to be distracted; she is not going to die; she is not going to leave Inna hanging!

Unfortunately, though, in her distraction, she does miss one tentacle and it wraps around her ankle, yanking her above its head. The stupid thing is going to try and eat her again, she has figured out that much, and she is not exactly thrilled with those prospects. Though, the monstress does not immediately drop her into her mouth; she is first trying to disarm her before consuming her––clearly not wanting to have the sword stuck in her again. While Liora's own arms are free enough that she can fend off attacks, from this angle and with all the blood rushing to her fucking head, she is only able to haphazardly keep the arms away from her. It's not super effective and is more exhausting than it is helping. However, when she sees that during this struggle she has moved so that she is now above the eye, an idea springs into her mind and she begins to hack at the tentacle holding her ankle. 'Don't worry about the fall. Aim for the eye,' is what she thinks, except it's definitely not all her idea.

Once she severs the grasp, she points her sword towards the eye, and––coming down faster than the kraken's reaction time––she pierces it with a satisfying pop. (Though she barely realizes this, when the sword impales the target her body seems to float in midair before gently bringing her down to her feet.) As Liora twists her sword and jerks the blade to the side, the monstress belts out an anguished scream. A tentacle comes to fling the woman off, sending her crashing into some scattered boxes and breaking them on impact. The sword falls from her grasp and slides a few feet away from her. Her head rattles, brain knocking against her skull as she tries to gather herself back to her feet, arms nearly giving out under her as she scrambles to get up. A bit dizzy, she does not give herself anytime to question this impulse, and desperately she cries out, "Inna, I need you!"

 

[Syntra]

...wow, okay. Okay, bitch! Like, Inna hadn't really expected Liora to act like a reasonable human being-- that would be like dumpster diving and thinking you could get a Michelin-level five course meal out of it, or reading Twilight for the plot. And she didn't particularly enjoy disappointment, you see? So, no, the blonde hadn't hoped for Liora to kiss her feet or something. She hadn't even anticipated a single 'thank you,' because that just wasn't how her colleague rolled. Oh no, no, no. Liora was too fucking good for basic manners-- she was an angel who had descended from the heavens, and clearly, her continued willingness to suffer the presence of all those filthy, filthy mortals like Inna was reward enough. All of that had been established ages ago. You know what, though? Even so, she hadn't expected her to actually fucking criticize her! "Oh, I'm sorry for inconveniencing you so with my incompetence, mademoiselle," Inna spat out. "Honestly, not sure how I'll be able to live with myself like this. Now I've seen the error of my ways, though. I should have just followed your example and done one big, fat nothing!" And, yeah, as usual, her sarcasm game was A+++. Underneath it, though? There was this... strange undercurrent of melancholy, ancient and bitter. Sadness, almost, had Inna not been too afraid to actually use that word in relation to herself. I'll be never good enough for you, huh? No matter what I do, because it's not about that. It's about me being me.

...what a weird, weird thought. Why should she care about these things, anyway? Because, a little reminder: Liora was a fucking bitch, and quite possibly a robot designed to wipe out the human race. Someone like her not liking her was a fucking badge of honor, not a-- not a reason to start yet another emo phase. All well-adjusted people had left that shit behind when they had graduated highschool, dammit! And so, even if the words were knives against her skin, Inna didn't acknowledge the bleeding. (Blah, blah, blah, what didn't kill you made you stronger. So, good news, actually! If this went on, she would soon become immortal and attain godhood. Haha! Take that, Liora. Also, once Inna founded her own religion, she would definitely turn her into a Satanic figure in her mythos. Slander on a cosmic level was exactly what the bitch deserved!)

"Less talking, more killing," the blonde rolled her eyes. "I'll be over here, chilling and doing my nails. You can handle it on your own, right? Since you're obviously so much smarter than my dumbass self. C'mon, love. Show me how things are done!" Because, yup, admitting to Liora that she literally couldn't do anything but hold the water in place was quite possibly the last thing Inna wanted to do. Like, seriously. Even the idea of stepping on hot coal sounded more pleasant, because at least hot coal didn't fucking judge you when you screamed. Liora, though? Oh, Inna could hear her already. 'Jesus Christ, Inna, why are you so fucking useless? Not mastering a new brand of magic five seconds after discovering it is SO embarrassing!'

Except that then everything devolved into chaos-- since, duh, of course it did. At this point, that was a natural law. If anything, literally anything went smoothly, Inna would probably assume they were just caught up in some fucking illusion and their enemy was about to slit their throats. Even that seemed more probable! Speaking of (im)probabilities, though, had Liora actually said she needed her? Well, well, how the tables had turned!

...that was something Inna should have thought, really. Instead of that, however, the phrase triggered something within her-- something strange, something that had been sleeping up until now. A monster hiding in the depths of her mind, far enough that Inna didn't usually reach it. And that monster? It was fucking hungry. Hungry for some sea bitch blood!

The mass of water under her control split-- some of it went for Liora in order to soften her fall, and embraced her gently. The rest, however? It turned and twisted, like a fucking whirlpool, except that whirlpools didn't usually grab swords. Apparently, though, Inna's creations could do just that! They could also jam the aforementioned sword into the kraken's remaining eye at full speed, which was admittedly pretty swell. Yay for new, badass moves! Not new, the voice from before said. You just remembered.

Remembered? Remembered what, exactly? Because, uhhh, Inna was pretty sure she hadn't actually killed a Lovecraftian abomination before. Some people who looked like them, maybe, but not the real deal! Besides, now probably wasn't exactly the best time to reminisce-- not when the goddamn kraken started rampaging around!

"What have you done, you stupid bitches!" she yelled, and for the first time since their little encounter had started, it sounded... terrified, actually. "You'll pay for this," the thing promised. "I can still smell you, you know? Ivy, you pathetic piece of shit. Should have told me right away you actually liked getting killed!" ...which, what? An interesting statement to unravel, really, but then the tentacles went for her with the accuracy of heat-seeking missiles, and Inna suddenly had, uh, more pressing issues to consider. Right, it'll be okay. I just need to... lift my hand like this, and... The water moved at her command, turning itself into a see-through, shining shield. (Possibly the most beautiful thing Inna had ever seen, aside from perhaps Liora. ...and, no, she sure as hell wasn't going to examine this. Fuck off, Freud!) That beauty, however? Yeah, that did jackshit for its functionality because it fucking dissipated a second later! All that aquatic weight came crashing down, and her head hurt so much that stars were dancing in front of her eyes, and she felt drained, so utterly drained, powerless like a leaf carried by the wind, and now there was nothing to protect her, and--

 

[starboob]

Soaked, shivering from the cool cushion of Inna's ocean, she picks up her discarded weapon and uses it as a prop to lean on (something in her is horrified she's treating a weapon as a cane, but she's quite honestly spent and is already running on fumes––so that uptight voice lecturing her on the appropriate uses of ancient weaponry is immediately silenced). There is little else she does as she tries to catch her breath, ignore all of the screaming aches and pains, while Inna (or her whirl pool arm) jams the second sword into the kraken's eye.

Half-heartedly, she had hoped that two swords to the eye would have taught the kraken bitch to leave them alone. But her anger seems to blind her more than swords had and Liora, again, watches as she comes for Inna. The moment when it becomes clear that sea monster's rage is enough to overpower the blonde's newfound power, it's not even a question––it's an automatic reaction. She springs forward using the last of whatever remains of her energy to put herself between the onslaught and the woman she believes she hates. However, as fast as she is sprinting, it becomes clear she won't make it to the blonde before the monstress rips her apart.

Just as desperation and worry fill her, she recalls a spell that she had used in the past to create barriers from the spirits of fallen victims. Though she knows she has centuries of rust to clear away, it's the only thing she has to try (there's no time to question these 'memories' or her confidence in this spell). While she continues to run towards the other, she drops her sword to drag it along the ship's deck and whispers foreign words. When the spell finishes, she comes to a stop and in a swift motion brings the weapon upwards and lifts a curtain of glowing apparitions up from the depths of sea below them. The curtain hurries to wrap around Inna, forming a tight a bubble just as the tentacles would have come down on her––the bubble then expands to push the monster back. Though the kraken does not stop her attacking and bangs against the spirit-made shield––each time the arms crash into the forcefield it's like a direct hit to the top of her brain. Now it's Liora's head that's suffering from a massive headache.

Thankfully, seeming to ignore Liora, she is able to slip past the attacks and through the barrier unscathed. Once under its safety, she crouches next to Inna and gives her a concerned once over––one you would give to any fellow associate who has been hurt on the job. "How much time do you need to recharge?" she asks, ignoring the pressure building in her head though her tone does express strain. Despite this, and against her usual mode of operation, she doesn't necessarily rush the blonde––perhaps having found some sympathy now that she knows what its like to hold up a barrier with her mind.

Though they may not have the luxury of time and self-care, because she can only stubbornly ignore her fatigue before her powers will give out on their own. She can feel this much and admits, "Fuck–––! I think this thing is going to come down a few fucking minutes so I hope you're ready." Sweat builds across her brow and lip as she tries to defy the odds and force this shield to stay. And in her efforts, she dredges up another memory. "Okay, when the barrier drops, we need to touch our swords together to trigger the next spell." She doesn't know what will happen specifically when they do this, but she trusts the visceral memories that tell her this will slay the kraken for good this time.

 

[Syntra]

Um. Was she-- was she dead already? Because that would explain a lot. The glowing wall of spirits, hanging in the air like some morbid curtain? Yup, that aesthetic checked out. 8/10, really, and she only subtracted those two points from the final score because, c'mon, re-using the ship was just so unimaginative. Like??? Presumably, she was in hell, and Satan was supposed to be obscenely wealthy. So, couldn't he have spent some of that sweet, sweet demonic cash on painting a slightly more impressive scenery for her? Some good, old-fashioned cauldrons, maybe, with the sinners being boiled alive and shit? No? No, apparently! It was just her luck, really, that the Powers That Be fucking half-assed her death as well. Seriously, the lack of customer care was downright staggering. The biggest event in one's (un)life, and yet they acted as if Inna had come to redeem a coupon she had gotten for free along with her McDonald's order! To top it off, they made Liora act out of character, too. You know, since their version of her colleague actually had a fucking soul? Just, hahaha. What a stupid oversight! Might as well believe in Santa Claus, or maybe even in the fairness of their judicial system. The real Liora would never have looked at her this kindly (except for the times she had), nor would she have given her the opportunity to recover. Nah, mate. Instead, the bitch would have lectured her about positive reinforcement being for the weak, and fed her to the monstrosity herself.

The out-of-character Liora Inna would have handled, though. Like, it probably wasn't too weird that she was too demonic even for the demons-- portraying her must have been struggle, and she sympathized with poor, underpaid worked all over the... uhhhh, underworld? So, no issues here. What the blonde couldn't gloss over, however, was that her head still fucking hurt. It felt like a tiny goblin had settled in her goddamn skull, and you know what its favorite hobby was? Playing whack-a-mole with her brain!

...wait, hold on. Didn't the pain mean she was actually still alive? Fucking hell, Inna was way too disoriented for this philosophical bullshittery. (Not that she ever wasn't, but, like, not the point!) "Just... just a few seconds," the blonde uttered, deciding to play along for now. Because, really, why the fuck not? What did she have to lose here, anyway? Her fucking pride? Hahaha, the last remnants of that had died the moment she had admitted waking up in Liora's embrace was actually a pleasant fantasy, and-- whoa, mate, what? Jesus Christ. If this nonsense went unchecked, she would soon be ordering a custom doll in Liora's likeness from some shady, shady website whose existence alone was the greatest argument against god's alleged altruism. (...that was, uh, an interesting mental image. A good thing, really, that Inna was so proficient at recycling those!)

"The next spell, huh," she uttered. The pain still came to her in waves and echoed throughout her mind ceaselessly, but the blonde kinda assumed the kraken wouldn't put this fight on hold just so she could pop a fucking aspirin. Again, the supernaturals had no manners! "You know what? Fine, I trust you. It's not like this situation can possibly get even more fucked, so I might as well." ...it wasn't just that, though. As absurd as it was, Inna sorta sensed that Liora might be right? And, no, she didn't understand why-- which was why she used 'sense,' not 'know'. Amazing, right? Words, in fact, had meanings! "Here goes nothing, I guess. Just promise me one thing: even if this doesn't work and we die here, we need to find a way to refund those fucking tickets. I'll return as a vengeful ghost if I have to!"

Somehow, it did work, though. There was this strange pull when Inna touched her sword - magnetism? - and, wow, okay! The swords just fucking combined into one large-ass sword, its blade gleaming with errant energy. Sword-ception! (A joke Inna probably would have made under literally any other circumstance, but-- well. It actually almost drove her to tears? Like, not that she was into this spiritual, New Age-y bullshit, but she really felt whole in that moment. Finally whole, after a lifetime of having a hole in her chest where her heart should have been.)

Enough with the sentimental nonsense, however. As they both held the sword, Inna perceived the world with new pair of eyes as well, and... huh. What was this shiny, shiny orb in the kraken's centre? (The beast screamed and flailed, but this time, everything about it was downright pathetic-- the sword's aura kept it bay, it seemed, and so Inna could take her sweet time assessing the situation. Heh. At least it stopped with the villainous monologues!) "I don't know about you, love, but this looks like a target to me. Let's go!"

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRINH ☉
​

When Inna says that she trusts her, she almost responds with don't. (Ugh, how melodramatic! Where is this all coming from?!) On some level she knows Inna hadn't even meant it like that; she knows this is purely conditional and, still, hearing her say it... She overflows with guilt. It distracts her, her shoulders drop some as she untangles herself from whatever these feelings mean. And, for once, when Inna provides her commentary she isn't annoyed; it pulls her from her inner-world back to reality and she is grateful. (Okay, she isn't actually sure if this reality is better but it is different from the distress of her inner-world.) It shows itself in a slight smile, though she turns away quickly from the blonde to stand at her full short height. When she does look back at the other again, the ghost of her humanity is gone and the only thing written on her face is steely determination.

As they stand apart and bring the weapons together, the iridescent glowing wisps that surround them are wholly mesmerizing. She feels an odd connection... not just to Inna, specifically, but to all the realms that are connected to their mortal one (filed under: unpack later). She follows all the threads that she is now privy to and traces her gaze along the one fastened to the monstress' core––the same one her counterpart seems to be referencing. "Obviously," she agrees with a nod. Her brows furrow together, her jaw clenches and she helps lift the blade.

They move in synchrony, rushing towards the kraken, who seems to be frozen or incapable of doing more than cower as they get closer. The sword impales the being with ease and when the tip sinks into the glowing life force Liora feels energy, power, magic pumping through the sword, through her arms, and into her chest. It's nearly intoxicating. The kraken screeches at an earsplitting level and while she is tempted to drop the weapon, she turns slightly and digs into their stance, pushing the sword deeper into its essence. The orb of energy starts to crack as its power is drained; though instead of exploding outwards, in its finally breaths it collapses in on itself before bursting out into a bright beam of golden light. The intensity obfuscates the world around them for almost a minute.

When her vision returns to her, she's still next to Inna though the swords are back in two separate pieces. The monstress is gone and nothing of her body remains. (She's thankful that had not been a messier ordeal––not that she would have cleaned it up but she does like being in clean spaces.)

Her head turns slowly as she looks at her opposite. She's not really sure what to say or if there is anything to say after you kill a monster who had had very specific stories to spin (though she'll think about those and everything else later). "That was... interesting," she says, settling on something neutral. Though the more she thinks about it, she decides 'interesting' isn't good enough and backtracks the declaration. "No––it was pretty cool." She wants to say more. There is a part of her, larger than she will ever admit, that is deeply curious what Inna thought (about everything) but she doesn't know if she should ask. They've never really had a civil conversation before (that may or may not be mostly her fault, but she isn't sure; she really isn't interested in looking in the mirror at present). Worry tells her that if she is open about her curiosity Inna will just tell her something like, 'Who cares, love? We killed the fucker lets go drink and find a bank to rob because I want to be dead-beat criminal for the rest of my life.' (Her Inna impersonation can use some work.)

She taps the sword against her calf idly, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Evidently, she gives up on trying to connect with Inna and decides to head back below deck, with no announcement whatsoever either. It's not until she's at the entrance that she calls back, "Did we kill the cook? I'm starving."

 

[Syntra]

Life had never really made a lot of sense to Inna. It was just... empty, you know? Going to school to earn a piece of paper, then working to earn more pieces of paper and, ultimately, deciding who would inherit the paper you didn't manage to spend because, duh, there was never enough time to actually do that. Instead, it was always do more, try harder, improve yourself-- a fucking slaver's rhetoric wrapped in a nice package, really. Like, did that actually feel fulfilling to anyone? Did the boot taste irresistible, or something? Either way, yeah, Inna couldn't be bothered to care about any of that bullshit. Clearly, the fact that she lived at all was just some cosmic joke-- an elaborate way of antagonizing her. There was no fucking purpose to this! All the people who managed to convince themselves otherwise? Just morons grasping at the straws, way too cowardly to face the nothingness head-on. ...except that, when the sword impaled the kraken, Inna was compelled to join their ranks. This, whatever it was, at least felt real, you see? Both real and meaningful, which, fuck. What a combination! (In comparison, the rest of her existence seemed like a mirage, pale and weak and inconsequential. The difference between a feverish dream and reality, truly. Which was which, though? And did it fucking matter? Inna... didn't know, actually. What she did know, however, was that her 'before' and 'after' were separated by a thick, red line, and nothing would ever be the same. She would never be the same, either. ...and the only person who shared that experience with her was fucking Liora. Amazing! Just the woman in front of whom you wanted to reveal your deepest vulnerabilities, really. Why oh why couldn't it have been a man-eating shark, or something? Those seemed more friendly!)

"I guess," the blonde muttered, forgetting to put on her mask. As a result, she seemed... tired more than anything else? And way more human as well. (...which was the exact impression she had been trying to avoid while working for Chett. His goons had a taste for blood, and a lone girl? An easy enough victim, with a fucking target painted all over her back. Especially when the girl had been desperate enough to seek them out on her own, because, yeah, that didn't exactly point to her having many other options. Oh no, no, no. Contrary to what Hollywood movies would have you believe, selling your soul to the fucking devil wasn't actually one of the top ten career choices! Now, when you made yourself look like a goddamn psycho? That protected you, a little bit. People felt less inclined to fuck with you, mostly because they enjoyed waking up in the morning, and unpredictable bitches like Inna could make that not happen. Idiots didn't care about consequences, right?) Anyway, she should have kept it up in front of Liora as well, but like, the blonde was exhausted, okay? Exhausted and salty, now that all the memories returned to her. (Memories of her pushing her away, seconds after she'd saved her useless ass. Being reprimanded for everything and anything under the sun, but then supposedly being needed when her glorious plan didn't work out. Just, what the fuck, bitch? Make up your fucking mind!)

"Dunno, man," Inna shrugged, "I didn't think far ahead enough to ask them what their job was before I burned them to death. I know, I know, how silly of me! Blah, blah, blah, irresponsible and stupid, probably shouldn't have been born. There, saved you some fucking breath!" ...yup, to that say she was in a foul mood would have been an understatement. Quite an understatement, in fact. (For some reason, she felt infuriated and sad all at once, and-- well. Better to convert the rest of the sadness into anger as well, right? Because Inna straight up didn't know how to deal with those emotions. With emotions that were lingering rather than explosive, a steady stream of water instead of the usual flames. Anger, on the other hand? You just broke a few things and everything was automatically fine, thank you very much-- yet another psychological crisis averted!)

Sadly, as they walked through the ship, it quickly turned out that everyone was fucking dead. Why, though? Like, with some of them, it wasn't exactly a mystery-- you didn't need a coroner to determine the cause of death when it came to the charred remains. There were also sailors who appeared totally unhurt, aside from... uhhh, not breathing? Which, Inna admitted, was an important detail. (Maybe the kraken had tied them to her own life force, or something? Eh, it probably didn't matter.) "Ugh. I guess I'll cook," the blonde frowned when they reached the kitchen. "Hmm, hmm, what do we have here? Potatoes and... more fucking potatoes, I suppose. Well, I hope you like potato pancakes because I have no idea what else you can do with that many of them. Say, how useless are you with a knife? Am I better off just peeling the pile by myself?" Normally, Inna would have insisted on Liora contributing, but now... Well, on some level, she hoped her colleague would just fuck off. Like, maybe she could go destroy someone else's self-esteem for once? That would be pretty swell.

 

[starboob]

☉ LIORA TRINH ☉

Liora is, of course, aware that she’s a bitch; that’s not a mystery or something in her blind spots. It also isn’t something she takes pride in, it’s just something that is (like a birthmark or the color of one’s eyes). What she is not used to is feeling guilty for it. But she realizes Inna is upset with her—the impersonation makes that clear as crystal. Her first reaction is to get angry; she grits her teeth. “I wasn’t fucking blaming you, but I can if you want everything to be your fucking fault.“ She almost adds, ‘Have you now decided to become the protagonist of some bullshit angsty young adult novel since your gig with the mafia didn’t work out?’ Thankfully something (her small sliver of humanity) stops her from grabbing a pick axe and finding a new low. "I was just asking." That is her neutral alternative. Too bad Inna is not privy to the edits and therefore cannot appreciate the miniscule growth.

"I only know how to throw knives," she says flatly while wandering away from the blonde. It's not hard to tell she wants to be left alone and the dark haired woman is happy to oblige. Plus, Liora Trinh does not know how to cook (her family had a maid for that) so she is going to let Inna take care of the entire cooking thing. And though she would prefer some form of soup––like maybe nilagang baka?––if all they have are potatoes she guesses the pancakes will be fine.

She decides it's easier to stay silent than to say anything else. It's probably for the best that she is exhausted and completely running on empty––in this state her mind is hardly quick enough to fire off anymore remarks and she doesn't really want to. So instead of giving herself more problems, she snoops through the kitchen, poking through drawers and rustling through cabinets. The snooping pays off, too, because she finds a Kuerig machine and coffee pods. (Perhaps this is the Universe's weak reward for them ridding the planet of that hideous monster.) Instantly, she's cleaning the machine and prepping it to brew. And admittedly, she does only make a cup for herself. The positive? It actually doesn't take her long to consider that after everything they had been through not just today, but since the mansion, that maybe Inna wants coffee too? When she sneaks a look over at the other, even she can recognize how drained she looks. It's something she can sympathize with. The worst that could happen is she ends up with two cups of coffee. Boo hoo.

The second cup finishes and she brings it over to Inna, setting it on the stainless steel counter and pushing it towards her. "There's no cream or sugar." She moves away from the other, feeling the need to put physical distance between herself and Inna. After that, she remains quiet and stews while their earlier adventures flood her mind. It's not even that she's focused on the monster––or that monsters are, in fact, real––she's thinking about Inna, mostly. And she's thinking about how doesn't like her salty attitude. Usually, she would not care, and she wants to not care now, but things between them have been different, more complicated, and she hates it as much as she wants to hate Inna. (Well, she does hate Inna but it's been lacking it's usual fire recently and she needs that intensity back!)

Liora feels like a fly caught in a spider's web and its uncomfortable because she's used to being the fucking spider!

She's starting to get more irritated the less she realizes she understands; she sets her mug down harshly on the counter. "Look, I really wasn't blaming you," her tone is stern, maybe even defensive, but not necessarily angry; if she is trying to sound angry, it sounds hollow. It's not like Inna had been wrong in assuming Liora would blame her for killing the cook, but actually hearing how she sounds through the blonde's mouth? Even if exaggerated? It sounds like her mother and she cannot believe her brand of bitch is genetic (well, not genetic but at least nurtured). She grabs one of the potatoes and spins it like a bottle on the table, fixating on that instead of the blonde. "Like how could I? He probably would have been coming at you with a fucking knife anyway. They were pretty intent on murder––and, I mean, it's like your whole talk shit, get hit philosophy. I don't disagree with that."