[Main] Pretty Pretty Slaughter

Una, Cinnamon, and Tinkerbell

Cinnamon felt elated to be given orders, and a name. Names were only reserved for the 5 star servants, but this new-comer had gifted her a name. Cinnamon felt a new sense of worth beyond the elation that came from any interaction with just Tinkerbell. Cinnamon happily handed Una the glass of water and stood happily in the corner. She stood very still awaiting new orders while her master analyzed whatever she had done with the funny box.

The entries following were what Una was capable of pulling from the data.

<:TINKER VIRUS HAS BEEN SUCCESSFULLY INSERTED INTO THE RE:COMPILER:>

It is to remain in stasis until outlier <Pretty's> voice reaches re:peat. It is estimated it will reach the re:peat sometime in the 21st century. The Tinker virus will emerge with the goal to sedate as many outliers as possible and centralize them in one location. An expiration date will be set tentatively for it to commence <clean-up>.​

<:TINKER VIRUS HAS BECOME SELF-AWARE:>

It has managed to become aware of its coding, conditioning, and directives. It still is still making remarkable progress and is estimated to have sedated 40% of outliers by [EXPUNGED]. Continue as planned, but increase dimensional interference to lower its autonomy.

[DIMENSIONAL INTERFERENCE WILL RAPIDLY DEGENERATE ITS PSYCHE]​

<TINKER VIRUS HAS CONTACTED "UNA">

We are coming for you.

1568851653480.png​

Immediately after Una would have read the last entry, Tinkerbell zoomed into the room, "Heya big girrrrrlllllll! What did ya find out? Scary bugs being bugs am I right? Do you get it now? Mhmmmm! This is one wacky world we live in!" Tinkerbell landed down on the nearby bed, "Mhm... well I've done somethin' just for you! I broke my tethers for the next THIRTY SECONDS! I can ANSWER any question! Quick quick quick! Ask me something and I will answer it! One question!"

InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum
 
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Khaliunaa Bayanbold

Una took another gulp of water before sitting at the edge of her bed with the laptop. She opened the data that remained, which was in the form of three entries. Una opened the first one, and was instantly taken by surprise.

<:TINKER VIRUS HAS BEEN SUCCESSFULLY INSERTED INTO THE RE:COMPILER:>

It is to remain in stasis until outlier <Pretty's> voice reaches re:peat. It is estimated it will reach the re:peat sometime in the 21st century. The Tinker virus will emerge with the goal to sedate as many outliers as possible and centralize them in one location. An expiration date will be set tentatively for it commence <clean-up>.

Una had no clue what the Re:Compiler was, but apparently Tinkerbell was in it, and she was in stasis until Pretty's voice reached... re:peat. "What the hell is repeat?" Una asked herself as she continued on. Apparently Pretty's voice was to reach in the 21st century, which was the current time period. "So someone knew Pretty's voice would come when it did and make me... all of us into magical girls? And the Tinker... Virus will sedate as many outliers as possible to get them ready for clean-up... Well they called Pretty an outlier, so does that mean all magical girls are outliers? Or just the mysterious ones like Pretty? Whatever, all I know is that Tinkerbell was sent here from... somewhere to get rid of us magical girls. This must be what she meant by being evil. Why does she want me to stop her then if she's freaking evil? Ugh! Whatever. I'll keep reading."

<:TINKER VIRUS HAS BECOME SELF-AWARE:>

It has managed to become aware of it's coding, conditioning, and directives. It still is still making remarkable progress and is estimated to have sedated 40% of outliers by [EXPUNGED]. Continue as planned, but increase dimensional interference to lower its autonomy.

[DIMENSIONAL INTERFERENCE WILL RAPIDLY DEGENERATE ITS PSYCHE]

Una was a little less surprised by this entry, considering what she had read before and all of the weird things she'd seen happen to Tinkerbell seemingly randomly. Turns out they weren't so random, and whatever the dimensional interface was worked to keep her more controlled. What was alarming however was the fact that 40% of the 'outliers' had been 'sedated'. If 40% of all magical girls got 'cleaned up' then that'd be a lot of dead girls. "Dimensional interface will rapidly degenerate its psyche... So that's why Tinkerbell has been freaking out every now and then. Poor thing."

<TINKER VIRUS HAS CONTACTED "UNA">

We are coming for you.

Una nearly fell off the bed as she read the last entry. Just as she finished reading it something came flying into the room. Instinctively Una transformed. Her pretty blue dress emerged over her body and she hurried to stand up just as she saw Tinkerbell rush in. With a sigh of relief, Una let her muscles relax before returning back to her normal form. It seemed Tinkerbell knew all about what was on the computer, and just wanted Una to educate herself. Una would've preferred to have known this beforehand. However, Tinkerbell was prepared to answer a single question. One of any sort in the next thirty seconds. Una wasn't quite prepared, and wasn't sure what to ask. For a few second Una could only utter simple "Uhms," and "Uhs" before she got an idea. One that would potentially help keep her safe, and discover more information in the future. Una sat back down on the bed, and gazed at Tinkerbell's overjoyed face.

"Who all is working with... them? Like who are they? Who in this uh... repeat or whatever is on their side? If they're coming for me... no... all magical girls, I need to know who I can trust."

There was a look of determination in Una's eyes after she asked the question. If she knew who to fight, then she'd fight them with everything she had.

SadistPoet SadistPoet​
 
Tinkerbell and Una (Cinnamon too)

Cinnamon remained standing in the corner loyal as ever. She did not seem to flinch at Una's reaction, and instead remained very still. It was almost as if she had no thoughts of her own. The only thoughts that would come to her mind were those inserted into her by others.

Tinkerbell listened intently to Una's question, "Who all is working with... them? Like who are they? Who in this uh... repeat or whatever is on their side? If they're coming for me... no... all magical girls, I need to know who I can trust."

She took a deep breath readying herself for a hasty reply, "Soooo they are the group with no face: Nightingale. They have yet to show themselves in this world because showing themselves severely decreases their odds of achieving their goals. Repeat is the world right now and it will be like that for at-most twenty more years before they do their big bang boom move that will either make or break their plans, but that doesn't matter cause of they mess it up they will try and try again like they always do! They do small changes to get what they want by alterning things in minor yet meaningful ways! As for who or what is coming for you - hahah well do they really need to come for you, or will your fear tear you apart Una?!?! I want to stop the cycle Una and you can turn this around on them if you just seize the r-" Tinkerbell suddenly went quiet for a moment.

"Oops times up!" Tinkerbell hovered up into the air, "Well that was just about as long as I could spaareee.... If I go any longer bad bad things will happen. Anywho, meet and greet time Una! Come on! Let's go go!" Tinkerbell took Una's hand and began to pull her from the room.

InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum
 
Patch

As Patch ran and ran away from the train clutching a Magical Girl in her arms it became clear that the girl was no longer with her. The girl had a gaping hole just above where her heart was with no glowing magiaphage visible. This one had been killed too. Why had Patch been spared? Ruri seemed like an efficient killer, so why did Patch get missed? Something inside Patch did not quite feel right. She could feel her magical energy lessened. Just before Patch was knocked out she could remember the particular feeling of a scorching fragment passing clean through her body. If Patch looked down at her chest she would then spy fragments of crystal. It became clear that her magiaphage had been hit, but it only got chipped to a minor degree - not enough to kill her.

Whether or not Patch chose to abandon the girls body was up to her. After much running, Patch stumbled upon an estate surrounded by rolling fields. It was a scenic view that was ruined by a random waterpark behind the estate. Next to the estate was a black, boxy, craft of some sort - if Patch knew anything about latest technology she would identify this as an airship. Judging from the parked airship, it seemed that the estate was occupied. Would Patch approach the estate? Or would she bypass it looking for somewhere else to get help? Maybe she would scout the perimeter of the estate? It was up to her.

ElenaIsCool ElenaIsCool
 
Eesha Shahnaz
In a plane-In ruin || Mention(s): Everyone

Eesha didn't know what that feeling was--but she felt powerless; she felt... Dead. And it wasn't only for a second.

Standing before her weren't Joan of Arc and her comrades, but world's most-known magical girl, Pretty. Clad in her pink dress, the figure of all magical girls stood. Eesha could felt youth and miracles radiating from her. Determination filled her up, but in this current state of her, she wasn't able to set it ablaze.

But she couldn't help but to smile internally despite the stares of suspicion, bewilderment, and shock from her comrades. Was it really worthy for me to call them my comrades, though? Aside from this, she hadn't really suffer with them together.

The pain they have went through... Must be far more painful than this simplicity.

...right?

And that was when Pretty got thrown up harshly. Back to them; served to them, was Pretty with one of her eyes dangling due to the gravity. Around her waist, she was held by a metal arm.

"Buddy" It called to the lone dark-skinned male.

Is that... His partner?

And before Eesha could do anything, blood and pink energy flowed from one of the cargo plane's jet engines. And that picture was imprinted on her mind.

Thee corruption hath increased
Corruption: 8%

Post the plane crash, Eesha woke up with plane parts scattered around her and others. The size varies, from the size of Jack's body, to tiny bits that she could scope with her fists. She was about to shape her hands into fists before she winced and propelled herself with opened palms resting atop the small shards of the plane.

They felt warm..

Once Eesha had sat on the soil, Eesha lifted both of her hands, bloodied palms presented before her caramel-colored eyes. The fresh metallic scent filled her nostril, showing a sign to her that this scent would became a part of her starting this day. That this kind of war would became a mundanity for her.

Blood-curling scream filled the silent air. It then turned into a plead to be helped. To be freed from something. The voice was familiar, despite it rarely being heard by Eesha.

This is Aimi's voice...

But a name caught Eesha's full attention, Francesca Turner. She whipped her head up and frantically search around, hoping that the said woman wasn't standing near them.

But she was.

And Eesha paled.

What would happen if there's a gheist there? Would their safety be secured?

Thee corruption hath increased
Corruption: 10%
Beginning 1st alteration

Eesha couldn't stopped to worry as magical girls began to "welcome" the head of Turner Corporation. The questions of her parents well-being lingered, and Eesha had yet able to trust the only lady standing on that horrendous field, the smell of smoke and ashes along with the metallic scent of blood dancing in the air. While towering above all the living beings there was Estera's band of light.

And it had yet brought to her full consciousness that a dark blue-colored tail was moving in reflection to her emotion behind her.
 
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Francesca Turner

Francesca paused a moment to observe the wreckage. Her face was still and unwavering, as if she had seen this before, or seen worse. In this moment of stillness changes in her appearance could be seen. Her silver-grey hair was more lush and vibrant. It had a new-found thickness to it giving a vibrant life-like glow to it. Her normally pale-skin had a mild amount of flushed-pinkness to it. Francesca was never one to adorn herself with copious amounts of cleavage, but her Victorian dress revealed ample amounts of cleavage. Her stomach appeared more rounded, as if she was pregnant? All of these details together would suggest that is the case. Regardless of her pregnant state, Francesca stepped forward into the wreckage. She rose her hand to the air and lightly waved it as she took a step forwards. This hand waved signaled for several men to deploy from the air-ship. They were geared up in deep-crimson fatigues and recognized as Francesca's private military.

The men secured a perimeter around Francesca as she waltzed forward towards the wreckage. She kept her hands at her side in fists and walked with her chest out in a masculine gait.

"Miss Turner, it's not good...there was a man made out of metal, and a dark-skinned man who I think was the Mahou Hunter, and we tried to fight but couldn't, and then Pretty was there an- Please help!" Claire cried out, wounded on the ground.

Initially, Francesca had looked to Claire with sympathy in her eyes, supposedly about to help her. Once the phrase "Pretty was there" left her lips Francesca's expression soured to an unnatural one and a red glint came to her eyes. The soldiers surrounding Francesca brought there rifles to level, as if reacting to Francesca's discomfort, "Pretty... are you sure my dear Claire?" Francesca absently said with her usual posh tone. Before Claire could offer a response, Francesca already was headed further into the wreckage.

Francesca heard Liv shout to her, "Liv dear! Get back to the airship, now!" She grabbed the hems of her low hanging dress and increased her speed. Her expression became more and more soured. Franesca's eyes were now a full, burning, and nigh-demonic red.

"SOMEONE, PLEASE! SOMEONE HELP ME! GET HER OUT OF MY HEAD! I CAN'T MAKE HER STOP! SHOOT ME! PUT A FUCKING BULLET THROUGH MY SKULL! PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU! JUST MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT ALL STOP!" Francesca came upon Kyoko trying to help Aimi who appeared to be losing her mind. Francesca simply reached her hand out and then Aimi felt a peace come over her entire being. The voice would subside - for now.

Francesca continued forwards spying a Virtue talking to her weapon, "Virtue, I can contact your chain of command. Give me a moment," she rushed forwards - now in a full run. Her soldiers ran alongside her. They passed the wreckage and found Jack stumbling out of the shrubbery.

"Sir Fletcher, confirm whether or not Pretty is here," Francesca spoke with uncharacteristic animosity in her voice.

Jack recognized those glowing red-eyes as a sign of bad things to come, "S- sure as shit! She went that way! That way!" He pointed in the direction of the cliff.

Francesca paused and sniffed the air, "I can smell her stench on you Mr. Fletcher."

He backed away nervously, "Yeah yeah! She yanked me from the crashing plane, saved my life. Saved the girls too!"

"Understood Mr. Fletcher Please help secure the girls and get them into the airship. Then we will decide whether or not to continue with this operation," Francesca looked to her soldiers surrounding her in a ring, "That goes for you men too. Please leave me alone for a moment. Go help the girls."

Francesca stood alone at the outer edge of the plane crash simply staring in the direction Pretty went, "Do not cross me." She stood with her glowing red orbs for eyes looking off into the distance, and somehow Francesca seemed to know that Pretty was staring right back in her direction.

---

Within the airship would be a peculiar soldier that had been taken in by Francesca, a Zeta class Magical girl with cat-ears. She had been told to stay put within the airship until further notice. Once the girls had all been secured she would meet her new team...
 
Cleo Donovan

Those eyes--a full, burning, demonic red.

She had sit up from the ground, one hand reached to hold the back of her head--it was healing, but the pain from when her head hit the ground was still there. Her eyes wandered, watching as Francesca Turner made her appearance, as the girls around her immediately felt relieved with her presence. Liv called her name. Claire desperately sought help. Others calmed down each on their own--calm enough to comfort the other, she thought as she watched Kyoko went over to hold onto Aimi, who screamed. Everyone was going through something different, and each of them took a different response. Cleo had watched silently from aside, slowly catching her breath, long returned to her human form.

But her eyes rested on Francesca Turner the most--her hair, much more vibrant, her flushed, healthy skin, plump breast, obvious cleavage. A stomach that was much more rounded--Cleo narrowed her eyes, the possibility passed by her head, but she brushed that aside. None of that is important, even the thought of the possibility that while they were happily dying outside, Francesca was somewhere else adorning herself layer by layer didn’t catch Cleo much of any attention or surprise at all.

There’s no point in being surprised when she pretty much already figured that they’re just tools under her, after all.

However, tools or not, the one who’s utilizing these tools--would she ultimately be a friend or foe? The question shrouded her mind, had been shrouding ever since the incident with Memoria and Tinkerbell. It was when she was thinking this that she caught the brief change in Francesca Turner’s expression--the word uttered by Claire that suddenly twisted the gentle, sympathetic face of their master. For that utter crimson glow to overtake her eyes, a demonic red that symbols rage.

Pretty. The word is Pretty.

Flashbacks of everything that had happened so far swarmed her head.

There was no denying it--that with that moment of explosion, a tiny flame of satisfaction grew in her heart. Her stern eyes followed the cyborg as the force blasted him toward May’s candy pillars--through it--then proceed to be blasted by Annie’s carbine. However, any type of emotions would not last long as reality permitted no time. The plane began to quickly descend after Jack’s yell, everyone was pulled into the air into zero-gravity. Then the wielded door of the pilot bay blasted open, and another man made his appearance. A tall, burly African man, in one hand holding a spherical object unknown to Cleo, the other a revolver. He jumped into the air of zero-gravity with them, and the girl recognized him.

The Mahou Hunter.

The real deal came faster than expected, huh.

However, just as white orb began to form in her palm, Cleo was not the first to react. Kyoko launched forward, clenching her fist. Liv’s dolls spur into action, aiming for the spherical object in his hand. What is that? Cleo had wondered, something telling her it’s not just a bomb. Everything fell into chaos, every single girl engaging into action--whether they were still recovering from being blasted into the air or not.

Perhaps, at that moment, the calmest, most soothing voice had been Eesha’s.

It sounded robotic, but elegant enough to be human. The world was quiet for a moment to listen to her tale.

She wanted them to believe what she said before she began. Cleo had frowned at first, but when it occurred to her that this may be her magical power, she tried to believe as well. Each word sounded almost like a fairy tale, but more so like a spell. She wanted to witness from aside this new magical girl’s ability, to see it unfold. The white orb in her hand vanished.

However, what happened with each word by hers seemed to have taken a different response than expected. The sphere began to glow a soft, gentle pink. A physical figure took form.

Pretty.

Then the world stopped.

She knew of her, briefly. The magical girl of magical girls, the powerful bringer and wisher of peace and harmony. Cleo didn’t really care much at first, remembering her just as another breathtaking, great figure to learn about among all the other heroes or people she read before in books or heard before in new or from other people around. In a way, to see her actually in person felt rather detached, as if somewhat unrealistic. Pretty. As she spoke, Cleo recognized it. The voice from the vision. It was her.

What is she doing here, in the Mahou Hunter’s hand?

Could she really save them?

Even as the world stopped and none of the girls could move, they could still hear. Cleo listened as Pretty tried to talk with the Mahou Hunter, with a voice as loving as it is motherly, sweet persuasion. Protect his daughters, heal his wife. OneMind? Nightingale? Those words carved into Cleo more than the others, mixed in with all the other suspicions and questions she had been holding in her head. The Mahou Hunter seemed to be taken in by her too, lowering her revolver, smirking. His expression softened.

A couple of words repeated in Cleo’s head.

“I just want the cycle of hate to stop.”

How naive. How naive. Whether the girl meant those words sincerely, or is just putting on an angelic facade. The words entered the girl’s ears as nothing more than a child’s idealistic dream. Hate? Hate is something that exists in this world, as natural as the winds and the particles in the air. Long before these mess, long before Gheists, long before Magical Girls exists. It is born with the creation of living creatures, sharpened into form by the evolution of humans. Just as there is light there is shadow, as there’s love there is hate. Wars. Deaths. Revenge. Civilization thrives on it, humans live with it. It is what carved half of Cleo’s soul in this world.

Cycle of hate. It is something that’s inevitable in this world. Pretty’s dream is as idealistic as it is unrealistic. But Cleo would applaud her. It is a dream worth dreaming. A world without that...Despite herself living in one--despite them all living in one...Would be lovely. Lovely indeed.

As if proofing what she’s thinking was right, the loud thud of the magical girl’s body hitting the cargo plane ceiling entered her ears. The frozen time resumed, and Pretty fell from the ceiling, her skull caved in, one of her eyeballs hanging out. Seven made his re-appearance, grabbed Mahou Hunter by the collar, and chucked Pretty through a hole to be caught in the suction of the airplane engine.

Dead. Alive. Then dead again. The airplane exploded. The Mahou Hunter duo escaped.

See, this is reality.

As they fell, Cleo watched the red torrent of girly pink energy exploded. She doubted that Pretty would actually be dead--someone as powerful as her probably wouldn’t let her magiaphage break apart that easily. And right, isn’t that man named Jack still in there?

Ahhh-ah, today was a flat defeat. Welps, at least it was somewhat fun.

Cleo closed her eyes briefly before actually falling unconscious.

---

Now, wide and alert. From the corner of her eyes she watched Francesca Turner growing in rage, but holding it in--couldn’t hide those eyes though. Dozens of questions burned inside of her, but Cleo only inhaled, then exhaled a long, exhausted sigh.

Her hand reached to her pocket then realized the cigarette pack wasn’t in it anymore. Frustrated, she only managed to find the vape that Francesca Turner had given to her--given to each of the magical girls, as their gifts. As her only option she relied on the vape instead to get the momentary relief, but it wasn’t enough. Soon, her eyes turned to Eesha next to her.

Then the dark, blue-colored tail swaying behind her.

Cleo studied her briefly, her pale features. Unlike some of the magical girls who were happy to see Francesca back, the new girl’s face was one filled with worries and concerns. She leaned over and placed a hand on her shoulder. After everything that had happened, Cleo had calmed down relatively herself, no longer feeling the anger, or the annoying, frustrated emotions that was fueling inside of her all this time. Instead, she was just tired.

“Your tail,” she called out. “It burst out just now. Kinda cool.” A half-laugh escaped with her word. Her eyes went to skim the surroundings, watching as Francesca Turner busied herself one after another. Cleo caught the way she calmed Aimi down with just a hand on her head--even now, she could still not decipher what their “master’s” powers could be. And for some reasons, it feels frightening to find out.

There was another girl that Francesca spoke to, the girl that briefly tried to give Seven a kick but was skewered by his blade instead. HQ. Chain of command. Looks like there’s a lot more to find out about her.

Soldiers worked with her among this mess, her glowing red eyes never subsided, the way she talked to Jack lack any gentility in the way she speaks with them. The hand that was on Eesha’s shoulder patted twice.

“It’s okay. Don’t force yourself to trust her,” Cleo muttered to Eesha quietly but casually with the smile still dangling on her face, continuing to watch Francesca from a distance. New orders. She’s giving new orders again, isn’t she? The hand on the girl’s shoulder squeezed, for a moment her expression was complicated and unreadable. Then the girl yawned.

“Oh yeah, if you’re a story-teller and everything you say come true, does that mean ya can make some cigarettes appear? I don’t need it right now, but later. I bet Franny’s saying something new now, telling us to get in a truck or a second plane or ship or something, so we probably gotta move first,” lazily scratching the back of her head, Cleo looked honestly frustrated. One of the things she hated the most is when she couldn’t get a smoke when she wanted to. The addiction had long been deeply implanted into her health like a parasite. “Oh, and I want it mint flavor. Give it to me later, alright, buddy?”

Her tiger teeth were apparent when she smiled, and finally stood up. Francesca Turner had, after giving out several commands, excused herself from the soldiers. The girl watched her moving away from everyone else, walking to the outer edge of the plane crash.

Cleo’s smile faded then as when her back was turned against Eesha. Her friendly gaze retreated back to seriousness, finally allowing the questions to bubble back in her head.

New ones. Mahou Hunters. Who exactly are the Mahou Hunters, who exactly are their enemies? Why do the Mahou Hunters want to eliminate them all, why hunt after magical girls? What started this specific cycle of hate in particular? She’s sure there are evil magical girls out there, those who utilized their powers simply for evil. She’s sure there’s more of them out there who used their powers for different reasons. Creating enemies would obviously be one of the consequences.

But then, what’s Pretty’s relationship to them?

And why--oh why, would their dear Francesca Turner’s beautiful, angel-like expression change when hearing that name?

“Cross what?” She only caught half of her words when she approached from behind, her arms crossed. She looked as happy as usual. The same cool, casual smile as if she doesn’t mind just shrugging the whole world away, wild and innocent. A huge contrast from that of Francesca’s current expression.

Cleo sighed, her eyes followed in the direction Francesca was staring at before, then looked back. “Are you okay, Ms. Turner?” It would be obvious that Cleo came more than just small talks. Her personality was rather obvious since their peaceful time at the Pretty Tower. When there's no reason for her to specifically approach someone, she rarely won't.

Eyeing the round bump on her stomach, she proceed to wiggle her eyebrows. “And uh, congratulations?”

Friend or foe, but friend right now. On the surface. At least. And there’s not yet a reason to tear that facade off.

------
Mentions: @ everyone
(In particular): Sacrosanctis Sacrosanctis (what she said)
Interacted: Gunnhildr Gunnhildr SadistPoet SadistPoet ​
 
Patch

‘Get away get away get away I gotta get away’


Those were the only the only thoughts that were in Patch’s mind. The train was already out of sight, which was quite a relief. The girl she was holding should’ve woken up by now. Patch looked down and her eyes widened once again. The girl wasn’t going to wake up, ever. She had a hole just above her heart and no magiaphage or even it’s glow was present. She looked just like rat-girl.

Patch felt tears well up in her eyes. She should’ve noticed, but was too busy running to actually feel her pulse. The girl slowed down, before stopping completely and slowly put the girl on the floor. She felt..Strange, weak even. Like she could do less than before. Patch looked at her chest and her hairs stood on end. Small pieces of her magiaphage were seen. It looked like the bullet only managed to chip it. It wasn’t enough to kill her

But why me? I should be dead

Patch tried to shake away such thoughts and glanced at the girl

She’s luckier than me..She gets to eternally rest..

Patch shakily sighed and kept on running. Soon, she found herself in an estate with a parked airship, lots of security and..A water park?

This person must be insanely rich..

Patch made her way to the front door and stared at it. What if the occupants didn’t like Magical Girls? What if that’s where that Uri girl lived? The thought sent shivers down her spine. Patch decided to become Bell once again

Bell

The knitter sighed and knocked on the door. The only thing she could do now was wait.​
 
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Plane Wreckage & Airship

Francesca had tuned Cleo out who was standing next to her. The Victorian lady's once pregnant appearing body for a moment appeared slightly tally, broader, and more angular. It was nothing major, but rather a small shift in her otherwise normal physique. To the untrained eye they would only notice something was "off" about how she looked, but to the trained eye she almost looked - demonic? Monstrous? Or whatever sinister descriptor one might think of. This was only enhanced by her glowing red eyes, a detail the Pretty Protectors were not aware of. She finally noticed that Cleo was standing next to her with the words stating, “And uh, congratulations?”

Immediately, Francesca's posture and "form" softened from a mildly sinister form to that of a rounding pregnant one. She blinked and her demonic red eyes simply faded away, "Oh Cleo dear, I did not notice you there. You appear to be in good health despite the circumstances," she placed a hand on her swollen belly, "Not one of you were supposed to see me in such a state, but this moment was dire, and has simply escalated more." Francesca turned to look at the cliff-face. It seemed as if she was trying with all her might to not throw herself off the cliff. A strange air of energy was about her, and she was getting restless. "Come Cleo, back to the airship and a truth will be revealed."

Some time later...

All of the girls had been loaded aboard the airship. It was about the size of a small house, and had an interior to fit despite its outwardly military-type appearance. The interior had small pod-like areas for different purposes. One for lounging, one for sleeping, one for washing, and a larger pod that looked like a meeting room of sorts. It was cramped, but had just enough space for the girls to be seated around a round table. Every Pretty Protector, excluding the three new arrivals, were sitting around the round table. Francesca stood at the table's end with her hands to her side, if any of the girls had not noted the change in her appearance before, they surely would notice now.

Two of the new arrivals stood at either side of Francesca. One was a cat-eared girl, and the other a frail child-like girl. The other, a virtue, had been peacefully apprehended and was seated just outside of the room among the Turner-Corp private military.

Each of the girls had been given medical-attention that was enough to stimulate their regeneration, thus they were all in a workable-condition. They were mid-flight in some direction, or perhaps they were hovering? The airship had very little turbulence, or signs that they were actually flying.

"First and foremost, my dear girls I would like to apologize with my most sincere words. I am so very sorry that I have not been able to visit, and personally spend time with each one of you," Francesca paused for a moment, "Before I continue with this meeting, and further apologies, allow me to introduce two new members," she individually pointed to each, "Sera and Christine." She allowed a moment for the pair to offer greetings to the seated members of the team, "You two are dismissed." The pair of new arrivals were escorted from the room as quickly as they were introduced by Francesca's soldiers.

The three new arrivals were now all together with free-reign of the airship. They could get to know each-other better, explore the modest space, try to eavesdrop on the meeting room, or just pass the time. Jack sat alone in the corner of the airship with a look of concern on his face. He stood up and tried to approach the three new arrivals, but one of the crimson-clad soldiers shot him a glance and he sat right back down.

Back in the meeting room Francesca continued speaking to the seated girls, "I believe after all the traumas you have endured for my sake - everyone of you deserve an explanation. An explanation of my absence, and one for the simply question of why."

She let that word why linger in the air, "I am going to tell you girls the truth, and this is absolute. Your purpose was never for the sake of saving the world. I had two reasons my dears for this group. One has been made a success, while the other has failed." Francesca placed her hand on her belly, "This child, my dears, is all of yours. It is an amalgamation of all your genetics combined together, and perfected. It is being gestated as the perfect hunter of gheists, and a weapon of mass-destruction to assure my world peace. Please rejoice that you are all mothers now."

Without skipping a beat, and with no respect to the weight of the words she just dropped, Francesca moved onto the next topic, "Now your other purpose was to prove the viability of a magical team. You all, and the other two girls I gathered, were some of the best examples of magical girls. Even then, with all your training, work, and dedication - you all have failed me. Annie you got side-tracked like a fool. Luce cowered. Liv wept over death of something not real. May failed time and time again. These are just a few of your failings. I believed in magical girls when no-one at my level would. The idealism of a girl able to be who she desires, and with the power to make her dreams real is beautiful, but your failures spit all over my idealism."

Her words like venom did not cease, "Only now will I give everyone of you one more opportunity to redeem yourself. Your missions success is being observed by those above, and you will have no more purpose as agents of change if you fail. Yet, you only have complicated things more. In addition to the Mahou Hunter, you will also kill Pretty. No questions, no hesitation, or failure my dear girls. Now I know how this story goes - I have perused enough... Japanese Cartoons... to understand. I let you go free and Pretty wins you over with a wiggle of her hips and a few cute blinks of her eyes. No, you will not join her - if you do, then it will be time."

ELIMINATION METHODS

A scrolling page listing all of the detailed elimination methods of the Pretty Protectors scrolled on a holo-graphic screen, "I did this not out of hate, but out of love. I loved every one of you so much that I would kill anyone of you to protect the others. Now, your failures has forced my hand. You fail this task, run, or some combination thereof - it might not be tomorrow, a month, or a year from now. But I will find you, or my lovely growing baby-girl will," she stroked her stomach, "And we will simply wipe you from my history." Francesca sat down and reached below the table pulling from a small-fridge. She produced a tub of ice-cream, opened, and began to eat it with a spoon. It was a blue-black color and appeared to be a blueberry flavor of some sort. Throughout her entire rant, and even now, no indication of true anger existed in her voice. She calmly sat and ate her ice-cream, "Mmm... I have been eating a lot of this flavor recently. Such odd cravings - what wonders of pregnancy. None-the less, we will land on my cruise ship soon to relax and re-arm. Then we will re-deploy you ladies back on your mission for one more chance to prove the viability of my magical girls." She continued eating her ice-cream, a bit of it fell onto her ample cleavage, "Oh, what a mess. I really need to stop eating this delectable treat, or I will end up like Una..."
 
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Khaliunaa Bayanbold​

Una let out an annoyed sigh as Tinkerbell finished her answer without finishing her final sentence. Her question hadn't really been answered, likely because of how broad it was, but Una was hoping to get a name of some people she could go take down or something. At the very least, Una got the name of the group. Nightingale. Tinkerbell said they had yet to show themselves in the world, whatever that meant, but they had been around for a long time it seemed. Whoever they were Una would have to find a way to locate them and kill them. Preferably before Tinkerbell turned bad, but it probably wouldn't be that easy. What was most important is what Tinkerbell wasn't able to say, how to beat them. She was cut off as she made the 'R' sound, so later she'd look back at the data and see if anything with an R was important. Of course, Una would've right then and there but Tinkerbell was already dragging her away to the meet and greet.

Una tried to remove the stressed and upset expression from her face before she was to show herself in front of everyone. She had to make everyone love her, which wasn't something she had done in awhile. Una struggled to keep her footing as she was led along by Tinkerbell's swift hovering. "Who am I meeting exactly?" Una asked.
 
Cleo Donovan


“.......Pffft.....Haha…..Hahah! Hahahaha!”

Each of Francesca’s words weighed down in their heads. Brief silence followed after she’s done with everything she said--that tone, as gentle as it is emotionless, that expression as motherly as it is cold and cruel. The truth, as she called it to be. The truth for her--for them to hear, when she urged her to return to the airship with the rest of the girls after she approached her by the aircraft’s ruins. She had foreshadowed it, almost. The bad omen rose up in her since she first saw Francesca’s appearance--watching the girls desperate to see the sight of her, watching her eyes glowed red. Spotting her briefly--even just so brief--as a figure somewhat inhuman.

With every step and every second passed since she entered the airship, sat down, listened as the three new additions were introduced, waiting for all the meaningless starters to pass by--Cleo had sensed a dark, almost frightening sense of feeling bubbling up in her. She had felt like something bad is going to happen. Francesca, even just the sight of her back when she called out to her in the very beginning--the change of her expression from rage to motherly--had instilled a feeling that Cleo had not felt in so long.

Fear.

She had felt fear.

The goosebumps up her sleeves, the hesitation to hear the truth.

However, when she finally heard it, each word uttered by the so-called Francesca Turner and ended with a comment on some mysteriously flavored ice-cream, those feelings...It vanished. Even when she read the Elimination methods--her elimination methods, the fact that all her ex-gang members would be killed. Maybe, were killed already.

Cain. Her dear gang leader she risked to rescue, too.

Her worst fear, far more frightening than the rest of the details her elimination method entails.

Francesca's reality, the “baby”--or monster in that stomach, far more frightening than a gheist, that they had all contributed to its creation.

Her idea of world peace, their next mission forced upon them. What she’d been holding them all these time for--far more than anything Cleo could expect from the simple knowledge that they were being used as dear, adorable tools.

Cleo listened to all these, taking it in, allowing a long moment of silence---

Then she laughed.

In the rather spacious airship hovering midair somewhere, in the small, cramped space they were in to take in this sudden nightmare, her bright, clear laughs echoed against the walls and bounced off the ceilings. They were loud, innocent, almost relieved.

“Haha...Hahaha, di-did you guys know? I said--pfft---I said congratulations to that baby earlier, congratulations!” She held to her stomach as she gasped for breath, her other hand slapping against the table, trying to recollect herself to be able to speak properly from laughing so much. The laugh was sincere, it didn’t even sound a bit sad or sarcastic, or dry or fake. That was the only thing she said, but it sounded as if the most hilarious joke has been heard.

Perhaps it is the most hilarious joke.

She is the joke, they are the joke. She knew something was wrong, but held it off until now. Uselessly had she mindlessly wasted time with a powerful corporation she’s supposed to hate, supposed to despise and even destroy and no, she just wasted all these time and somehow donated to the creation of a monster that could be far more frightening than a Gheist. Somehow believed that this gentle-looking, motherly demon is better off than being captured by the FBI. Somehow believed that she is doing the world a favor.

Oh Cleo, have you always been this foolish?

Cain would’ve kicked you out of the gang and leave you to be shot a thousand times.

Aye, FBI would've been the better option.

Finally, a long sigh escaped from her. She felt no fear, she felt no anger. Disappointment, perhaps, was there, dwelling inside the heart, but mostly at herself. She did feel a sense of relief at finally knowing the truth of why they’re here, or maybe still somewhat disconnected from the reality she was suddenly forced to face. Then, questions rose up to her immediately.

Why tell them this now? Why not delude them longer? Find a lie on why they must eliminate Pretty and the Mahou Hunter and she would believe half of the girls would trust her words and follow the orders. Secondly, what exactly is her definition of world peace? What is she planning to do with that monster in her belly?

And most importantly, are her gang members dead yet? Could she still save them?

However, she asked none of these questions to her former “master.” There was no point in asking, she felt, because none of it really mattered right now. Perhaps the rest of the girls would ask, but those answers wouldn’t help them in any way--Francesca had only left them two options, to continue to abide by her, or to face the Eliminations.

“Ahhh right, what else did you say? Pretty would win us over with some blinks of her eyes? Wait, you’re relying on some Japanese cartoons to make that assumption? Pffft, haha! If anything, both of you are equally hilarious. How naive she is and…”

A pause. Finally, she retracted her laugh and stood up from her seat. The smile was still there, but it’s no longer a bright, casual smile. Danger lingered in that smile along with the dazed glow in her shining golden eyes that hinted a small flame of rage.

“How stupid you are, Ms. Turner.”

A million things needed to be considered if she leave this airship right now.

Where should she go? Is Pretty even the better option? Somewhere inside of her she doubted that. The Mahou Hunters? Perhaps. Gheists or the birth of this baby, both of them are enough to destroy the world. To stay or not to stay, either one are likely to lead to their deaths, or a damned life under the corporation. In the end, there are no good options to choose from. Each one leads to another nightmare. It depends on which one’s the wisest.

Staying with Francesca Turner would’ve been, in a way, nice--even smart, if one will voluntarily gives up on herself. However, having to suppress her nature and beliefs so long now being under this insanity of a corporation, Cleo feared losing herself more than losing her life. Herself--yes, the way she lives, the reason she left home, joined her gang.

Right, her gang. What if--what if losing here would mean the death of them all? The Turner Corporation is huge. Francesca Turner is a demon with unknown, unlimited power. They--she--could definitely kill them off--one by one--as easily as a swift wave of a hand. Could she even save them? The chance is smaller than 0.1%, Cleo realized with her current level of power.

To leave. To leave now is to bring all the responsibilities of their lives to hers alone, if they’re not already dead. The rest of the Eliminations details could not compare to this bit of importance. She would be pulling them all in this gamble, one she has barely any chance of winning.

Weak. She’s still weak.

But what would her gang--what would Cain rather have her do?

To admit and surrender just because she’s scared for their lives?

Cleo stood there, eyes firm, fists tight.

Nah, they would laugh if she stayed here. Beat her to death, too.

So the Magical Girl Of Explosions decided to just smile her casual, cool smile again, eyes narrowed. She looked over at the rest of the magical girls, for a second wondering what they would do, but ultimately decided it’s none of her business now, not anymore. Instead, the girl just looked over at Eesha, her hands by the side of her waist.

“So, where’s my cigarette?”

And when she did get the cigarette, she would--as if itching for that nicotine, take a nice smoke, Time slowed. Then with one hand, she reached to her side and pulled out the small, throwing knife she always carries around with her, the one she bought all the way from the mysterious ghost town she ventured upon in Georgia.

The moment she threw it precisely, aiming straight at Francesca Turner’s rounded stomach, the other hand reached to blast out a huge hole on the side of the meeting room. Strong winds immediately blasted inside, she took a careless look out to see the sky.

“A little boop to our new baby,” she mocked sarcastically, then walked to the hole. To get rid of that baby is to kill it off right there when it's still in its "mother's" belly, however, such ideal task would probably not be that easy. She decided not to actually risk it, not going to bet on the chance when Francesca's powers are still by all mean unknown. “Aww look, we’re midair. Barely noticing that with the little turbulence of the plane,” standing by the edge of the hole, she looked down at the ground hundreds of feet below. Winds blew against her hair, making it messy all around. She took one final look back at everyone in the meeting room.

“If any of you want to tag along, feel free. Otherwise, it was nice meeting you all. You too, Ms. Turner,” she grinned, and right before she jumped out, she spoke her last sentence.

“I’d gladly take the risks of the eliminations.”

Her words faded with the air and her disappearance.

------
Interacted:
(In particular) SadistPoet SadistPoet Gunnhildr Gunnhildr
@ everyone ​
 
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Christine Gein
Lodestar
Mentions: everyone
Interacts: Jack ( SadistPoet SadistPoet ) Rosemary ( Servant Servant ) Sera ( Pilgrim59 Pilgrim59 )
​
It could work, Chris mused by her lonesome, Magical Girls working together could surely accomplish the feat, all calculations have concluded. It started as a theory, simple past time, but now that she was there, where she could see it with her own eyes, it seemed perfectly plausible. She was confident so. It excited her, gave her the energy to go on. It would go like this, and would go quite magnificently, one Magical Girl with large output of raw energy should be placed inside a generator, one or more with protection based power should be assigned to keep the ship intact while it’s breaking out of the atmosphere, and another with air manipulating ability would maintain the oxidizer supply for the propellants, then Tada! the airship has become a spaceship. After all, the only difference between the two is one soars in the air while one the outer space, which is much cooler. She would name it The Magirlion, a magical-girls-powered spaceship.

Those random thoughts kept her occupied as she waited for Francessca to return. At the end of each daydream, she would turn to her cat-eared companion. Who knew how long she had spent staring at this funny person, yet her mouth kept shut all the way. This catgirl didn’t look like a very friendly cat nor human, she appeared bitey, like a scary panther. But the cat ears. The cat ears allured Chris to no end, she wanted to touch them badly but couldn’t, she didn’t want to lose her hands. So the little girl returned to her thoughts, feet dangled in the air as the chair stood a bit too tall for them to rest on the floor. She hoped the girls they were going to meet would be more approachable, or less bitey.

The door slid open, there they were. A mess, she thought, even knowing that they had just survived an air crash, the girls still looked like one of Chris’s self-made breakfasts: messy, covered in raspberry jam, and could fall apart at any second. As if standing before a pack of shivering puppies, the urge to hug overcame her. But they might think of her strangely.

Before she could make up her mind or say anything, Miss Fran has sent her and the cat-eared one away. She sulked, readied to protest, but there was no point, she can’t get her way by throwing a tantrum, not right now.

So she was back in that room again. The newcomers caught her eyes, a girl with almost white hair and a short man, though still taller than her.

Chris froze in place. Her mind had run off to find a way, that isn’t weird, to approach them. They didn’t seem so threatening, tired and beaten up more like.

Then a brilliant idea came to mind. Food. Nothing like some good food after a hard-working day.

Let’s see. Chris dug into her bag, a book titled “Friday” which was freshly smeared with chocolate milk, an old diary, lots of pencils and her last pack of homemade cookies. Holding the plastic pack in her hand, she approached the girl covered in blood first.

“You look dying. Here, have a cookie,” she said, putting one in the girl’s hand, or wherever available on her body to balance a cookie on.

Then, more timidly, she went to the cat-eared one. A breath in, then a breath out, approaching slowly, Chris recalled every single time she had tried to feed stray cats in the past, those that weren’t used to being fed by human hands. A cookie waggled between her fingers.

“Come,” said Chris sweetly, “You want one don’t you? It’s yummy, I promise.”

Then exploded a loud bang. The airship rocked gently, but more importantly, the cookie was slipping from her fingers.

In a second, Chris dove herself ahead, barely caught it with her fingertips, and found herself balancing on one toe while the rest of her was leaning towards the ground. Years of being pushed to the limit for the sake of her caretakers’ experiments had paid off with this one cookie.

“Oops.” Chris straightened herself, “Miss Fran did say something like that would happen. And since she might need us soon, we should eat now,” once again, her hand stretched out to offer the cat girl her cookie, “or not, so chew carefully, okay?”

“How about you? Fancy one too?”, she turned her attention to Jack, completely ignored the armored soldiers and the whole situation in the next room.
 
Liv sat with the other girls in the meeting room of the airship, massaging her fingertips under the table. All of them had received treatment, and her broken right arm was healed for the most part, but the insistent tingling in her fingertips didn't fade.

Liv's thoughts whirled as her gaze flickered between Miss Francesca's rounded belly and the two girls flanking her. Just moments ago, she had watched in concern as Miss Francesca ran among the wreckage of their cargo plane. The usually composed woman looked more frazzled than Liv remembered ever seeing her, but maybe that had been due to her... Pregnancy? It didn't feel right to congratulate her right now after their failed mission, and Liv doubted it would be appropriate to ask now of all times about who the father was. And those two girls... Liv tried to keep her expression neutral when Miss Francesca introduced Sera and Christine as new members of the Pretty Protectors. She didn't want to be rude, but all these new additions to the team felt so sudden. And- oh, they were leaving already.

Having Christine and Sera join the team was undoubtedly a necessity, considering all the original members that were missing. But unlike the rest of them, Christine and Sera didn't spend months training together as a team. Even Kyoko had a month with them back at Tinkerbell's place before she was thrusted into a mission with them. It all just felt... Out of place.

With a small sigh, Liv focused on Miss Francesca's words.

As the explanations went on, Liv felt herself plunging deep into an abyss. If Miss Francesca's insult felt like a punch in the gut, then the elimination methods on the holographic screen were like knives twisting into heart. Her father, whom she'd left for... For... This monster, was being used as a threat to keep her in line. And- and that child? Liv didn't even know what to think of it. The silence that followed Miss Francesca's words rang loudly in Liv's ears, broken only by Cleo's abrupt laughter. She turned her head stiffly and watched as Cleo gasped for breath. Liv wanted to think that she was laughing in hysterics, brought upon by the feeling of betrayal and hurt from the woman that'd treated them like a mother. But Cleo was laughing so brightly, as though she'd just heard a hilarious joke from a friend.

A thought struck her.

Liv didn't understand Cleo. Didn't understand how she thought. And that went for everyone in the room. She thought that the Pretty Protectors were her friends, people that she could trust, people that valued the team just as much as she did. She thought of Miss Francesca as the mother she never had. But how well did she actually know them? How many of them had ulterior intentions for the team? How many of them actually cared about each other?

Cleo blasted a hole on the side of the airship, and without hesitation, she leapt. Liv shot out of her seat and stared after her in shock. Cleo would survive the jump, but would she be able to survive Mi- Francesca's hunt for her? And what of her gang? Liv didn't know much about Cleo's relationship with her gang, but for to be able to risk her own life and theirs...

Her father...

Liv wanted to do nothing more than follow Cleo out that hole, to show Francesca that they weren't just tools for her convenience.

But... She wouldn't be able to risk the life of her father.

Liv turned back to face Francesca and slowly lowered herself back into her seat, wishing that she had even just a fraction of Cleo's courage and strength. But if going through with this woman's demands would keep her father safe? Fine. So be it. She'd do it, even if all the other girls decided to go with Cleo.

"I'm staying," she gritted out, loud and clear for the remaining occupants of the room to hear.

Liv thought back to the mission that Francesca spoke of. Kill the Mahou Hunter and Pretty? Liv's face soured. That was impossible. At least, not for the team as it was right now. But running wasn't an option. She'd rather have her magiaphage in pieces after a failed mission than run.

Even as the fear of death gnawed at her, Liv glowered silently at Francesca, the pounding of her heart quelled only by a familiar warmth in her chest...
 
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Una's meet and greet

Tinkerbell dragged Una into the hallway towards a blue-portal, "You are gonna meet at your adoring friends! Your actually a big hit down here! Well sorta - I made you one anyways! Put photos of you everywhere! Linked your videos - even the exclusive ones! Sorry I illegally accessed them, but a convict wanted by the FBI, DEA, MI6, KGB, IDF, SAS, CIA, ATF, and all the other alphabet soups doesn't follow the law!" Tinkerbell stopped Una right in front of the portal, "Your goal is to make a good impression on everyone. After-all you will be their future leader! By the by, the MC's is my officer, Vulture!" Tinkerbell fluttered behind Una and shoved her into the portal with great force.

When Una came out the other-side she was on a stage accompanied by fire-works. It apparently was "night-time" in this part of Neverlandia as evident by the star-lit sky. A crowd of at-least a few hundred girls stood in-front of the stage cheering once Una came to the stage. A thick fog suddenly came over the stage and then a tan-skinned girl with dark hair that had a multiple grey streaks in it appeared from seemingly nowhere, "Yo yo yo! It's ya girl Vulture introducing the titular titan, the blonde bomb, the sex-machine with no in-between, the one and onlyyyy Unaaaa!" She sprung out from the fog with a mic in hand. It appeared she was in her magical-girl form which looked to be some sort of rustic apocalypse-esque gear. She wore ramshackle armor with a bare and tight-midsection. Her armor was adorned with several small feathers as decoration and she had a handgun holstered, "What up Una! Tell the lil' ladies about yourself..." she held up the mic to Una's face for a response with friendly brown eyes.

InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum



Bell at the estate

(OOC: This took place before Francesca intercepted the crashed aircraft)


Bell's knock on the door was met immediately with a crimson-clad soldier opening the door, "Outlier present on the premises, orders?" He stated, presumably speaking into a communication device. The soldier took a step-back and hovered his hand over a side-arm staring her down.

A large-breasted woman with a rounded belly approached from behind the soldier, "Brother Maric, this one is fine, allow me to talk to her." The soldier left back into the building leaving the two of them at the door-step. "Hello dear, are you lost?" She tilted her head to the side slightly showing concern, "Or did you come looking for me?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

ElenaIsCool ElenaIsCool
 
j0lTWiW.jpg
Sera Sommerfeld
☆ :::: Kovert Kitty :::: ☆
「African Airspace, South Atlantic Ocean」

Interacted: Christine ( Mqueserasera Mqueserasera ), Francesca ( SadistPoet SadistPoet )
Mentioned: (Anyone else on scene)
​


A brief blink of an eye, and they were already airborne. Following suit with her employer's swift induction, Sera and her companion was quickly dismissed as soon as they could draw their breaths. A long exhale followed, as Sera found herself at the mercy of the expressionless crimson paladins. Where their helmets and gears met, Sera felt as if they were watching her the entire time. Fletcher, a name that she picked up on, had dissuaded himself from interacting with the girls by a glance of a crimson operator. From what she could tell, based on the solemn mood of the room, was the peculiar nature of her new assignment. Where she had once been indulged in the politics of blood and steel, the feline girl would pursue her curiosities no further than what she was given.

Leaning back against the wall of their given room, Sera could tell that everyone else was on edge after their recent ex-filtration. The feline operator's crossbow hung from her one-point sling, with her duffel bag in tow. As much as Sera longed for a tranquil trip home, she was keen on staying vigilant with her gears. It would do her best now to keep to herself, and be ready for what was to come.

Before long, a voice broke the truce of silence in the room. The cat girl's eyes widened at a peculiarly frail figure before her. A cookie upon her gloved hand. Sera let out a sigh, as her hand navigated away from her crossbow's trigger guard. As vigilant as she was, the hospitable gesture from the girl, of whom was no less younger than her, was more than enough to dissuade the feline operator from the sudden movements. While they were on board together for most of the trip, Sera have yet to catch her friendly companion's name. Blissful negligence, bred from her habits to focus on her surroundings rather than socialize, have kept Sera alive for as long as she could remember.

"Dankeschön (Thank you)." Sera replied softly in her German accent, as she took it upon herself to nibble lightly on the cookie. The girl smiled lightly, all the while blushing.

One could tell Sera's thoughts simply by the way her tail goes back and forth. Her panther-like ears twitched a little at the cookie's scrumptious scent. Eyeing the girl trying to balance herself, as a loud bang went off in the back, Sera could not help but break forward. Even so, she was more amazed at the girl's nonchalant negligence of the abnormal pulsations going off.

"Stay put." Sera said, as she raised her crossbow forward towards the door, checking both sides of the hallways, before stepping out.

With her acquaintance's cookie secured inside her jacket's pocket, Sera hugged the corridor and traversed carefully towards the source of the explosion. Before long, she was joined by the other operators in red. Raising her hand signals towards the soldiers, the latter would stack up on both side of the door. One of them turned the knob, cuing Sera to breach into the room with her weapons raised. Her eyes scanned both corners of the room, as the rest of the soldiers followed in behind her to secure it. There, the feline girl diverted her weapon towards the hole in the airship. Counting the faces on-board, as well as their undivided attention, there was no mistaking it - someone deliberately made their escape with that little stunt. Despite that, the airship was somewhat intact. Lowering and slinging the crossbow over her shoulder, Sera raised her voice over the howling wind towards her employer.

"Were you harmed, Frau Turner?" Sera quickly scanned Francesca's body for any shrapnel and wounds, before casting a quick glance over the other members of the Protectors around her.

Her dreaded thoughts came into light. With that said and done, what remained of her short-lived leisure time was now accountable for what she could do in this scenario. A betrayal? An external factor? Or perhaps an insurrection among the Protectors? Sera reasoned to herself not to fathom what she has perceived before her own eyes. Given her new profession, perhaps Francesca would shed a light on the situation at a later time. After all, she have yet to acquaint herself with everyone else. But to her, it mattered little. Her faith in her new boss, her new master, was absolute. To others, Sera might have gotten a grievous bargain of a new life, but to her, she was simply glad to be out of a bomb-collar. In the end, there were many things so foreign to her own ideals, but at least there were those of whom have yet to relinquish their stands on this particular situation. At least for now.

Given her dealing with Francesca in the past, her enigmatic eyes and composed manners are a lot scarier than her security details. There was no comprehensible way of what she could do, given her status as a renowned figure of the modern world. Despite her conforming eyes, Sera have yet to renounce these inner prudence. But who was she to say, in this world full of wickedness, that her new boss would turn out to be but another politician? Sera thought. Forsaking these speculations, the feline operator held onto her gear straps with a tight grip.
 
Francesca Turner

Francesca fully expected at-least one girl to strike back at her. After-all she gathered them based on ability, genetics, desperation, and many other combined factors rather than them just being okay with being used. Francesca harbored no ill-will in her eyes even when Cleo threw a dagger at her swollen belly. She simply moved her left hand in one fluid motion to impact the shaft of the blade. The unnatural strength and speed she hit the blade with deflected it to the side, just narrowly missing her stomach, and sending it into the wall behind them. Francesca did not even flinch when Cleo blew a hole in the wall. She knew that Cleo would not make an explosion that would harm anyone within the room.

Her crimson-soldiers rushed into the room with weapons at the ready, but Cleo had already ejected herself from the craft. Francesca pressed a button and an auxiliary layer of metal unfolded from the interior of the outer hull making a thin seal over the blasted open wall.

"Were you harmed, Frau Turner?" Sera asked her. Francesca knew she made a good pick with this former conscript with her asking those words.

Francesca knew she was okay, but looked down to check her wounds, "Yes, I do believe I am fine dear. Thank-you for your concern." She smiled at Sera and then stood up. Francesca patted her on the head as if she was a house cat.

"I'm staying!" Liv declared boldly wanting to affirm her position with the Pretty Protectors. Francesca's heart swelled with happiness, but she knew that her intentions probably were to protect her father. Regardless, Francesca walked over to Liv and embraced her in a tight hug.

"Your loyalty is admirable my little Liv," Francesca's body pressed against Liv. Francesca felt warm and soft, but smelled of iron? Liv could also feel something peculiar pressing against her waist where Franny's stomach was. It felt like a small, weak, yet determined fist pounding against Franny's belly from the inside against Liv....

Pilgrim59 Pilgrim59
Dawnsx Dawnsx
 
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[div class=textbox]Una didn't have time to process Tinkerbell making all of her images and videos, public and private, known to everyone in Neverlandia. Instead she stumbled through the portal and onstage. Her pupils went wide as she took in the sight before her. Hundreds of girls were below her, cheering in the nighttime air for her. Fireworks boomed in the sky, and the music's heavy bass sent ripples down her spine. Her look of shock was quickly replaced by a broad smile, even before the oddly familiar Vulture appeared from the fog. Una was silent for a moment in front of the microphone. Una had prepared for this moment for a long time.

Suddenly, Una was enveloped in a bright blue glow. Beneath the blinding glow, her clothing shed from her body like snake-skin and dematerialized into bright blue fragments of light before floating away in the wind. Una's glowing form rose into the air, spinning in a circle as she began to take on her magical girl form. Starting from the bottom up, her armor began to form. First her silver greaves formed, shining brightly beneath all of the lights. Then the blue cloth running halfway up her thighs appeared, giving way to her deep blue half cape hanging from her waist down to her calves. Next the bright blue glow gave way to her chest piece, another fancy piece of armor. The glow disappeared from her arms, revealing silver gauntlets. On Una's upper back, a massive luxurious cape burst into existence. White fur lined her shoulders, holding the cape in place as it fluttered in the wind behind her. Last but not least, Una's golden crown dropped gently onto her head. Opening her striking blue eyes, Una dropped back down to the ground in a crouching position, holding her hands out in front of her. A blue beam of light slowly formed in her hands, taking on the shape of an anime-like spear. Una rose, standing up tall before slamming the blunt end of the spear into the ground beside her. She smiled and pointed out towards the crowd.

"Hey there Neverlandia! You girls already know who I am, Princess Peril, the Internet Sensation, the Unbeatable Queen, the Leader of the Pretty Protectors! Whatever you know me as, know that I'm here to bring all of my awesomeness here to Neverlandia for all of you lovely ladies!" Una let out a couple of cheers before continuing. Tinkerbell thinks I can help keep Neverlandia as perfect as it is, and I'm totally sure that she is totally one hundred percent correct! I can't wait to get to know all of you guys and make everlasting memories to last us a lifetime! Magical Girls Forever!"

Una's smile beamed brightly in the night. She had always wanted to do something like in front of a crowd, better yet and crowd of fellow magical girls. It was as if she was born for this, born to show how awesome she was in front of as many people as she could.

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[div class=minibox]Khaliunaa Neverlandia SadistPoet SadistPoet
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[/div][div class=credits]credits @RI.a [/div]

Una didn't have time to process Tinkerbell making all of her images and videos, public and private, known to everyone in Neverlandia. Instead she stumbled through the portal and onstage. Her pupils went wide as she took in the sight before her. Hundreds of girls were below her, cheering in the nighttime air for her. Fireworks boomed in the sky, and the music's heavy bass sent ripples down her spine. Her look of shock was quickly replaced by a broad smile, even before the oddly familiar Vulture appeared from the fog. Una was silent for a moment in front of the microphone. Una had prepared for this moment for a long time.

Suddenly, Una was enveloped in a bright blue glow. Beneath the blinding glow, her clothing shed from her body like snake-skin and dematerialized into bright blue fragments of light before floating away in the wind. Una's glowing form rose into the air, spinning in a circle as she began to take on her magical girl form. Starting from the bottom up, her armor began to form. First her silver greaves formed, shining brightly beneath all of the lights. Then the blue cloth running halfway up her thighs appeared, giving way to her deep blue half cape hanging from her waist down to her calves. Next the bright blue glow gave way to her chest piece, another fancy piece of armor. The glow disappeared from her arms, revealing silver gauntlets. On Una's upper back, a massive luxurious cape burst into existence. White fur lined her shoulders, holding the cape in place as it fluttered in the wind behind her. Last but not least, Una's golden crown dropped gently onto her head. Opening her striking blue eyes, Una dropped back down to the ground in a crouching position, holding her hands out in front of her. A blue beam of light slowly formed in her hands, taking on the shape of an anime-like spear. Una rose, standing up tall before slamming the blunt end of the spear into the ground beside her. She smiled and pointed out towards the crowd.

"Hey there Neverlandia! You girls already know who I am, Princess Peril, the Internet Sensation, the Unbeatable Queen, the Leader of the Pretty Protectors! Whatever you know me as, know that I'm here to bring all of my awesomeness here to Neverlandia for all of you lovely ladies!" Una let out a couple of cheers before continuing. Tinkerbell thinks I can help keep Neverlandia as perfect as it is, and I'm totally sure that she is totally one hundred percent correct! I can't wait to get to know all of you guys and make everlasting memories to last us a lifetime! Magical Girls Forever!"

Una's smile beamed brightly in the night. She had always wanted to do something like in front of a crowd, better yet and crowd of fellow magical girls. It was as if she was born for this, born to show how awesome she was in front of as many people as she could.
 
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OneMind Africa

Cleo, after ejecting from the airship, found herself just off the coast of Africa. She would not have known exactly where she was, but would be able to just get to the shore. Once she got to the shore she would find herself in a small coastal village. Wandering through it would yield some hints about the already reported new condition of Africa. The homes were all made from a metal that was slightly malleable to the touch, and the food was all distributed in nutrient tubes. Camera's littered every corner of the small village. Each moved about focusing in on different individuals. Cleo would not know that she currently was flagged as an outsider, but the people seemed friendly enough. Before she could firmly find herself gathering information from the locals, Cleo became assailed by several sleek trucks and a few helicopters closing in on her location.

Her natural grit and skill led to her fleeing into the African wilderness. She found herself in the Mediterranean evergreen forests of Central-Africa (She may or may not know this information). Cleo spent the next week evading authorities who were hunting her down. It was a difficult task. The men hunting her seemed to be anything but African too. They appeared to be multi-racial and spoke with varying accents - ranging from French all the way to Asian-type. The language they used did seem to be a mystery. It was either a native language she never heard before, or perhaps a new language all together. Additionally, she had received the killing end from the weapons they used. Cleo had been wounded by pulse-rifles, toxic grenades, sound emission devices, and countless other technological terrors. Cleo would recognize pulse-weapons from her days with the Noirs, as they use to be a hot-commodity in the gun trading business, and would always attract authorities. These guys used these advanced weapons almost wastefully. They would spend day and night hunting Cleo and just sending attack after attack.

Cleo's only respite came when she would happen upon towns and villages. The men would halt their attacks in fear of harming the locals, but would mount up a perimeter to try and intercept Cleo after she left. She might have considered staying in town for longer, but she knew that they would eventually send specialized troops in to hunt her. In these towns Cleo would find the strange semi-malleable metal all the structures had been replaced with. By this point she would notice that all the Africans were speaking one language. If Cleo ever listened in class, she would know that Africa has over 900 spoken languages. All the towns she had ventured through appeared to homogeneous in both their manner of speaking and the way they lived. It was truly as if Africa had been united under "one mind."

Now Cleo was not just wandering aimlessly, she had a goal to find the Mahou Hunter. She knew that their mission was "supposed" to take place in Botswana. Cleo was aided by newly reworked roadway systems which had signs that were user-interactive. By this point she had grown wise to their data-monitoring, so she managed to gesture for a local to use the terminal for her. She simply said the words, "Botswana" and they got the cue. She now had a general idea that she should head east on the super-highways they had erected in Africa to get near Botswana. Cleo stole from locals, but not to an excess, to prepare for the journey.

This was when she learned that despite her initial belief, not everything was exactly "one" in this new Africa. She had her usual run-in with OneMind soldiers, but suddenly was aided by insurgents who had been informed of her whereabouts. She met with their leader, a fellow magical girl named Bloody Bull, and made her goals clear. Bloody Bull aided her, but held no words back to call her crazy. Regardless, Cleo spent the night in safety among the rebels known as the "Ojiji." The next day she was given a ride to a location near Botswana, which was considered the territory of the Mahou Hunter. It seemed that the Ojiji were not enemies to the Mahou Hunter, but were not exactly allies. Bloody Bull's actions implied that she was simply helping out a fellow magical girl, and left the rest of the actions up to her.

In all this time, Cleo had not seen one sign of Pretty in Africa. Was she dead? Or did she run away? For all Cleo knew Pretty could be up in London making her grand return. That did not matter to business minded Cleo - she focused on her goal. Cleo spent three days prowling the area that was littered with diamond mines. This area appeared to not be under the control of OneMind. Many starved men, women, and children all appeared to be laboring away in pits looking for diamonds. There was no sign of advanced technologies. Language and culture appeared fractured. Cleo also had the suspicion that her being a lone female here was a huge risk to herself. She did not stay in one place for long, and eventually found what she was looking for. Through a bit of luck, while also skulking through areas selling limbs and portions of girls, Cleo managed to find herself the Mahou Hunter. He was with many other individuals, most of which appeared to be young men, and some even children. They all had weapons nearby while they off-loaded boxes from a truck into a dingy bar.

Cleo had a moment to stop and take in her surroundings. They were in a town built around a diamond mining operation. It consisted of several shacks that locals lived in along with a nearby strip that had many places selling bootleg dvd's, blades, food, and several other nick-nacks. Hanging from posts every-so often was the flayed bodies of girls that would twitch every so often. This must be what they do to magical girls around these parts. If Cleo caused a ruckus, she would have a fight on her hands. Many of the individuals were armed in the town, but they did not seem to have much training. This was her moment to approach the Mahou Hunter and get what she wanted. What would she do....?

SilverBlack SilverBlack

Una's Meet and Greet!

The crowd burst into cheers at Una's elaborate transformation. They already were awestruck with the skill she exhibited in her transformation. At this point, it did not matter what words came out of her mouth, any talking would win the crowd over. Following Una's proud speech, several other basic questions followed. All of which Una would have no trouble answering. Vulture seemed confident enough and had a degree of showmanship. She was a bit sarcastic, but seemed to have a good-natured personality. Once the show was over, Vulture got Una off the stage with her. Cinnamon waited behind the scenes, somehow getting to them.

Vulture looked over to Cinnamon, "Damn it Shanay! You can't be wandering about like this!" She yelled with her tomboy-like voice, "Tink is serious about doing something with you if you keep acting up."

Cinnamon responded back with a pre-recorded answer, "I love Tinkerbell so much."

Vulture held Cinnamon's hand and talked to Una, "Yo, preciate' you accepting her as your servant. With that you got my respect already."

InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum
 
Kyoko fought the tremors that passed through her body, the nausea that crept through her belly. This had all gone so wrong. She had felt safe with these people. Maybe not in the situations they had been in, but in a general, familial sense. But this...

This felt like home. In the worst possible way.

Elimination methods. Genetic material. God, this woman sounded like her parents. So methodical and practical, even when spouting atrocities. She believed this was for the best. She believed the girls to be a commodity.

Kyoko was sick and fucking tired of being a commodity.

"How dare you," she whispered quietly, then louder, "How dare you?" She offered no quantification to her statement, simply cast a glance at the newly patched over wall. She cursed her own indecisiveness, wished she had followed Cleo down to the ground. She trusted her, trusted the other magical girls. This new woman, this Francesca, this monster in the guise of a monster killer? Not so much.

Home sweet home. Fuck that. Fuck being treated as another scientific oddity, fuck the spreadsheets, the research. And now she wanted them to kill Pretty? She had idolized her in the dark time after her change, her vision. After her parents had told her that her abilities were simply a curse, had subjected her to the tests and the trials. Was that what awaited her here? she wondered. What happened when there was no mahou hunter, no Pretty? What then? She refused to believe that they would simply be allowed to live normally. They were too precious a resource.

No, she had had enough of being a commodity.
 
Bell

The wait wasn’t long. Actually it got immediately responded by a soldier wearing red. Bell smiled nervously at him as he spoke to her


“Outlier present on the premises, orders?”

Bell blinked. Was he talking to her? The way his hand hovered on his side arm was a no. Bell felt herself tense, when her saviour came in. A large breasted woman, pregnant probably, form the size of her belly. She looked familiar. The soldier, whose name was revealed to be Maric, left the two of them on the doorstep.

“Hello dear, are you lost? Or did you come looking for me?”

Bell faked a bright smile, her speciality. This familiar lady had the right to feel suspicious. A girl she probably didn’t know knocking on her door, she would react the same. Only nicer.

“Yeah! I got lost when I was sightseeing. Do you know where the nearest hotel is?”

Bell felt her shorts pockets for her wallet..

‘FUCK DID THOSE GUYS TAKE MY WALLET?!’

Her smile didn’t falter, or her cheerful demanor. Instead she chuckled

“Aw, silly, clumsy me! I must’ve dropped my wallet!~”

Bell looked at the lady again, this time searching her memory at the same time. Then it hit her. Bell’s eyes widened

“Are..Are you Francesca Turner?”​
 
Francesca and Bell

Francesca grinned at Bell stating that she was looking for the nearest hotel then went on to pretend to have lost her wallet, "Oh dear the blood spats on your clothing tell a far different story, and yes, I am Francesca Turner." She leaned in slightly to take in a whiff of the air, "Yes, as I suspected you are a magical girl. I can just smell it all over you - in little bitty fragments too." Francesca put a finger to her chin inquisitively, "Did you get into a scuffle perhaps? Maybe kill another girl, or did you happen to escape from a nearby train?" Francesca stepped to the side and offered for Bell to enter the estate, "Would you mind answering a few questions for me dear? It is not like you will make it far otherwise. After-all, this little slice of Americana is controlled by separatists," Francesca patiently awaited Bell's answer.

If Bell were to look behind her, a few soldiers would have entered the front lawn without her noticing. They had either been secretly ordered, or had taken a hint to block Bell's escape route. They a faint reflection surrounded the body of the soldiers indicating that they had some sort of energy shielding on. It would be hard to take out these soldiers and make a clean escape, but it was up to Bell what she would do next.

ElenaIsCool ElenaIsCool
 

Rosemary.gif
Pumpkin sat by the lounging area, arms crossed and her now fully healed leg tapping the floor in an antsy manner. Not only had that lying 👌✋❄👍☟ yet to contact HQ but she had also forced Pumpkin to get into her ship for an "enjoyable" ride. Well, maybe it was more so her soldiers what did the trick. Still, the tediousness of the situation made Pumpkin miss her previous plane ride towards the ground at whoknowshowmany m/s. Also it's important to note that up until this point Pumpkin had occasionally glanced over at the guards near her, almost as if she were considering the possibility of taking them on directly, but as she eyed them one last time Pumpkin simply let out a frustrated grunt before picking up her weapon and bringing it inches away from her face.

"Oh shut your mouth already you oversized lighter, us getting into this mess is all YOUR fault." The pair stared at each other with expressions of absolute contempt, a far call from their mutual care attitude that was seen before they get on the ship. "You heard me, maybe if you worked out from time to time you would've ACTUALLY harmed Mr.Cyborg but noooooooo instead you just ended up lightly nudging him and I am the one who has to pay for YOUR mistakes as always." Pumpkin paused, almost as if she were allowing the weapon to respond. It didn't though. "Ohohoho good one but not even in a thousand years would you have ever met a Virtue that actually tolerated your lazy ass. Had it not been for me you would've been scrapped long ago and turned into bathroom plumbing pipes, maybe then you would've been useful." Another pause. Despite getting no response again the expression on Pumpkin's mask became one of sheer rage. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'D GET LESS SHIT AS A BATHROOM PIPE!? I TREAT YOU BETTER THAN YOU DESERVE YOU SPHERICAL SLOB!" And with the end of that seemingly one-sided argument Pumpkin furiously set Chainy back on the floor before facing away from her weapon with her arms crossed. She probably could've stayed in that resentful posture all throughout the remainder of the trip had she not noticed the presence of someone standing beside her.

“You look dying. Here, have a cookie,”

Pumpkin jolted a bit and was close to screaming about there being a ghost in the ship when she first turned to face the girl that stood next to her. If Pumpkin looked dying then this girl was straight up dead. And to make things even odder due to the fact that Pumpkin still had her arms crossed the ghostly girl had to place the cookie right on her shoulder. Pumpkin's mask showed pure bewilderment as she stared at the cookie. She looked back at the girl. Then back at cookie. Then back at the girl. Then back at the cookie. Then back at the girl. She was offering a cookie to a cat girl. This was getting weird.

"Uuuuuh...thanks...?" Was the only thing Pumpkin could muster to say.

Before she was able to even consider tasting the sugary treat the sound of an explosion coming from inside the ship sent Pumpkin straight into fighting mode. She stood from her seat and was almost about to follow the cat girl when she heard the ghostly girl mention that this was an expected event. Great, the trip would remain as mundane as before. Pumpkin slumped back onto her seat, the boredom was unbearable. Such sudden movement caused the gifted cookie to fall from her shoulder onto her lap. Pumpkin briefly eyed the treat before picking it up, she was about to take a bite out of it when all of a sudden the image of a slaughtered Pretty flashing within her mind made her realize something:

"I can't trust anybody here." Chainy's maw swung open and Pumpkin tossed the cookie into the roused green flames that awaited within her weapon, charring the treat in mere seconds. Once the deed was done and Chainy's maw was shut again Pumpkin stood up and began heading for the ship's washing pod, after all when you spend so much time in the jungle you tend to end up missing a hot shower quite a lot. She would still remain in her magical girl form of course as she only intended to quickly wash her hair on the sink. Pumpkin looked back at the guards and the ghostly girl one last time before leaving the lounging pod.
 
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Bell

"Oh dear the blood spats on your clothing tell a far different story, and yes, I am Francesca Turner."

Bell looked at her clothes. Oh shit, she forgot about that. The blonde looked back at Francesca, to see her grinning. She didn't like that grin.

"Yes, as I suspected you are a magical girl. I can just smell it all over you - in little bitty fragments too."

Double shit, she meant the magiaphage chips. Bell was getting nervous. Was Francesca an Anti-Magical Girl? Did she really smell that bad?. Bell felt like running. Francesca tapped her chin, as if she was thinking.

"Did you get into a scuffle perhaps? Maybe kill another girl, or did you happen to escape from a nearby train?"

Bell gasped. How did she know about the train incident? Did she..Orchestrate it? Bell took a step back. Francesca stepped to the side, offering her to enter the estate.

Would you mind answering a few questions for me dear? It is not like you will make it far otherwise. After-all, this little slice of Americana is controlled by separatists,"

Dang..She was right. If anyone saw her like this..Bell looked behind her for any potential escape routes, but was met with more red soldiers. They had some magic shield thingy, apparently. Taking them out would be nearly impossible, she couldn't even summon a thread without feeling like passing out. Bell's hand, which was in a fist instinctively, relaxed and she sighed. She didn't want to die yet. Not yet. Bell bit her lip and looked at Francesca, before stepping into the estate.



​
 
Annie craddled her metallic right arm with her left. Even with her enhanced strength, its weight was enough to throw her body off balance, giving her an awkward gait as she took a seat. She wore a patch to hide the red glow of her eye. The fresh mutation distorted her vision, making half the world look similar to a broken computer screen. Colors were badly off, and her body seemed to process more information than she could handle. Her new accessory kept the eye from fluttering open, but it only barely helped with the migraine that was taking root in her head.

Francesca introduced two new members of the group, shoving them outside the room as suddenly as she brought them in. Annie was surprised when she didn't even question it. After all, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Something was broken inside of her, now. It was like she had lost faith in humanity. Anyone would, after what she'd seen. A man who had done countless wrongs was given a second chance. Rather than take that chance, he SLAUGHTERED Pret--

Annie released a shuddering breath. Just thinking the name sent a wave of pain through her body, and the shock stopped her thoughts in their tracks. She was beginning to understand. It had honestly taken far too long for her to get it, but now it seemed quite obvious. People just weren't good. All her life she had lived in a happy illusion, one where everything could end peacefully if everyone worked hard enough. But reality didn't work like that. In real life, expecting people to be decent could get you killed. Maybe it was time for her to start expecting the opposite.

This thought coincided with Francesca's words. Annie felt a dark feeling welling up inside her as she listened to Fran's motherly voice. A mother. She was stealing DNA from Annie and the other girls, and the resulting creature-- their daughter-- would be used to kill monsters around the world. But the child wasn't the only tool here. It seemed like Annie's thoughts were right: one of the women she trusted the most was using her as a means to an end. And she wasn't even useful. Just a failure, a fool. Annie stared down at the table in shame, praying that this speech would end soon.

Something made her head snap up. Elimination methods scrolled rapidly across the screen, and Francesca continued to repeat the word my in a horrifying mantra. But if anyone paid attention to Annie's expression, they would see a faint glimmer of hope in her eyes. Did she just say...kill Pretty? Impossible. She had seen the original magical girl get killed not even a day ago. And yet, Fran was telling them to hunt her down like her ongoing existence was a matter of fact. Annie almost hoped that she was being mislead, that Fran was creating some sort of trap. But no, Pretty wouldn't be able to sway them if she was dead, right?

Annie's expression was still as she watched Cleo abandon ship. She didn't dare follow. It was entirely possible that Francesca was lying, that Pretty was really dead after all. But if she wasn't...Annie looked on with a determined gaze. Every single one of these girls, her teammates, would be out for Pretty's blood. Annie would play along with them. Then, when she finally saw Pretty with her own eyes, she would do everything she could to make sure she was never harmed again.
 
Eesha Shahnaz || Estera
Mentioned: @ everyone || M. In particular: SadistPoet SadistPoet (Francesca), dazzling dazzling (Lucia), SilverBlack SilverBlack (Cleo), Dawnsx Dawnsx (Liv) || Interacted: SilverBlack SilverBlack (Cleo)

Why would... Francesca Turner make elimination methods of them?

That certain question spiraled in Eesha's mind, deafening the other dozenous questions. Francesca Turner's explanation didn't justify this particular action of her as well, to Eesha at least.

If they were to stray from their work negatively... If they were to disappoint you further...

..why can't you just fire them out while keeping them alive?!

Memories of kindnesses provided by the names written on those slides were displayed in the theater of her mind. Claire who was the one to reached out to her and held her hand to keep her head from clashing against the floor of the plane, Cleo's kind word of her first mutation.

Mutation...

Eesha glanced at the dark-blue tail from the corner of her eyes. It looked like one that's owned by a lizard. Disgusting..

A part of humanity was robbed from her in exchange for something... inhumane. And she never liked anything of hers to be robbed.

Eesha absentmindedly scratched her cheek, somehow feeling it itching. Lowering her hand to once again rested on her laps then, she stopped when her hand felt a piece of cloth wrapped around her neck.

How could I just noticed this?

She took it off, the knot loosened and the edges caressed her neck gently. Upon of her examination, she noticed the familiarity of the cloth.

There was no mistaking it, that cloth was Luce's. The blood didn't overly-soaked it, so one would still be able to notice. Eesha's eyes darted towards Luce and her eyes began to water.

They were so nice...

Way nicer than them.

Tears dripped down her cheeks and she quickly wiped them up with her sleeves.
Suddenly, Cleo's laugh bombed.

“Haha...Hahaha, di-did you guys know? I said--pfft---I said congratulations to that baby earlier, congratulations!”

Baby?

What did she miss when she was in that little emotional moment of hers?

"What baby...?" A low-voiced, small whisper passed between her lips. Instantly, Eesha's eyes looked at Francesca's belly. She didn't exactly remember if she harbored a baby inside her when they first met. She couldn't really tell. She wanted to congratulate, because even if the mother were... demonic, a newborn baby would still be pure. He or she would still...

Suddenly an order was given to her; a request for the mint-flavored cigarettes Cleo asked not long ago--when they were still sitting atop the plane ruins.

Eesha looked at Cleo and couldn't help but to saw tiredness in her. Wait..no... Not just her..

A look around her, she took.

Almost everyone is.

Eesha thus began, hoping that the item she would create would be enough remedy for Cleo. Eesha cupped both of her hands and faced them down to the table.

Made of haxamine, stearic acid, ammonia, benzene, arsenic, tolunene, acetic acid, metanol, cadmium, acetone, carbon monoxide, with 10 grams of nicotine.

I hope that's enough nicotine...

Sprinkled to them was mint. The scent, the taste, they shall be mint-flavored.

To their side, the container that lits up flame; The igniter.

A medicine to they who need; to they who seek.

But a reaper to they who abuse.

Eesha felt something nudging her fingers from inside her cupped hands.

Did it work..? It did..., was what she thought as she opened and retracted her hands. Her eyes stared at the box of cigarettes with images of mint leaves adorning the box. Beside it was a lighter.

Cleo must be in desperation for these to manifested from those simple lines..

Eesha grabbed the two items and handed them to Cleo. She took some breaths and not long, Eesha could smelled the minty scent. It was fresh, yet it slightly choked her lungs as well.

Eesha hoped it was enough. She truly hoped.

So why hadn't Cleo calmed down?

A hole was blasted by her and Eesha's hair was flapped around due to the sudden wind. And there was a noisy, long ringing in her ear. It deafened every voices in the room.

Everything even until Cleo's jump.

Did she... Left us?

Eesha couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe at all. She thought she had put Cleo a little at ease. However, a little didn't seem to be enough.

She wanted to join her. But she couldn't. Eesha looked at the lady that was hugging Liv. She was conscious that she was nowhere near of the capability to put Francesca to rest--and she couldn't also risk the safety of her parents.

She couldn't at all.
 
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