[Well, she won't hesitate. She's going to try to punch out with some color, but of course, as always, a memory comes into being.]
[The world of Tubular Bells (21-48) is not a kind one. A foe to defeat, to protect a young girl, and the vital mission she's gone through. But even so, the tables seem to turn. One hand, sliced off. The other, sliced off. But she knows she's had the upper hand.]
[For when he goes to blow another of his balloon animals to direct to her, the "scent" is already on the flesh integrated with his body forces them back within his own head. She gives him a choice. Pass out and die, or choose the hard way.]
[And of course, in his anger, he chooses the hard way.]
[Hello? Hello??????? She is both alarmed, queasy and baffled as fuck. Pick one of those three? No. The fuck. She does, at least, manage to glance at the arm she lost.]
[A deep dark cellar, and...a memory. A woman in chains, kissing, and horror, a twisting horror from that alone, before angry tears in the rain give way to a bout of laughter.]
[She...doesn't understand it all. Why...there? Why trap her there? For what? Torture? Hot Pants blinks, furrowing her eyebrows, before turning to Nogiku.]
...I'm sorry that...your mother had to go through such suffering.
The expression on Nogiku's face is furious. Though it isn't really Hot Pants' fault.]
... I appreciate your condolences, but I don't want them. My mother died a miserable, undignified death, and only one thing will put her soul to rest now.
[She really isn't. It only confirms what that memory was suggesting.]
I'm sure you know a thing like that will destroy you. But its not my place to say whether its the right or wrong thing to do. You do what you feel you need to, in this life.
I'm fighting to keep something out of the hands of someone who would abuse it to hurt and kill others for his own needs. I'll do anything to prevent that from happening.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
week three, monday.
She standing in front of one of the interactive exhibits at the museum, squinting.]
... "Bromance?"
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Maybe they misspelled "romance"? But between these two...
[WAS THERE ROMANCE...]
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[somewhere out there, a historian furiously writing a friends to enemies to lovers fic.
but as they converse, a bubble sneaks up on them to trap them inside. wowie!]
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[Well, she won't hesitate. She's going to try to punch out with some color, but of course, as always, a memory comes into being.]
[The world of Tubular Bells (21-48) is not a kind one. A foe to defeat, to protect a young girl, and the vital mission she's gone through. But even so, the tables seem to turn. One hand, sliced off. The other, sliced off. But she knows she's had the upper hand.]
[For when he goes to blow another of his balloon animals to direct to her, the "scent" is already on the flesh integrated with his body forces them back within his own head. She gives him a choice. Pass out and die, or choose the hard way.]
[And of course, in his anger, he chooses the hard way.]
[Hot Pants stands...and just closes her eyes.]
...Tch. Could've been worse.
[COULD'VE BEEN WORSE?]
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What... [WHAT?] What?
[Hello? Hello??????? She is both alarmed, queasy and baffled as fuck. Pick one of those three? No. The fuck. She does, at least, manage to glance at the arm she lost.]
Your arm. Is it...?
[Okay? A prosthesis? AHHH.]
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[She raises both arms to her - and they both look like regular arms! Nothing off here.]
They're alright. I can heal myself with my ability. That's more than most could say.
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[Still a little ??? fucking alarmed ??? though.
She's apparently baffled enough, that she doesn't realize when she touches the bubble — imbuning it with some color.]
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[She...doesn't understand it all. Why...there? Why trap her there? For what? Torture? Hot Pants blinks, furrowing her eyebrows, before turning to Nogiku.]
...I'm sorry that...your mother had to go through such suffering.
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The expression on Nogiku's face is furious. Though it isn't really Hot Pants' fault.]
... I appreciate your condolences, but I don't want them. My mother died a miserable, undignified death, and only one thing will put her soul to rest now.
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[She closes her eyes.]
Is "revenge" that one thing?
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The monster that ruined my mother gave birth to an even worse abomination. I'm the only one who can stop her.
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[She really isn't. It only confirms what that memory was suggesting.]
I'm sure you know a thing like that will destroy you. But its not my place to say whether its the right or wrong thing to do. You do what you feel you need to, in this life.
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[She closes her eyes, briefly.]
But, even knowing that, I can't allow more women to fall victim to that awful ability... You have a reason to risk your life, too, right?
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[She understands that, and respects it, too.]
I'm fighting to keep something out of the hands of someone who would abuse it to hurt and kill others for his own needs. I'll do anything to prevent that from happening.
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Then, I would say our motivation hails from similar places.
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[Solidarity, indeed.]
You're a strong woman, Nogiku.