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βAll people have ambition. But to achieve it means to stamp on the ambition of others who also try to fulfill their own.β
γΙΞΉΞ±ΖΟgΟ Ρ cΟΖΟΡ:#007F03 β ΡΠ½ΟΟ gΠ½Ρ cΟΖΟΡ #B20070γ
|| Need you Now || Lady Antebellum ||
γΙΞΉΞ±ΖΟgΟ Ρ cΟΖΟΡ:#007F03 β ΡΠ½ΟΟ gΠ½Ρ cΟΖΟΡ #B20070γ
|| Need you Now || Lady Antebellum ||
When Fiyero burst in, Erika returned to attention. She glanced back and forth between Clover and Eamon. While the flutist was very well known for how spacy she was, she was also quite perceptive and could read things off of people's faces if she had to. Clover seemed a bit nervous, her tail was stiff instead of the usual swish it liked to have, and Eamon's jaw was set as if he too was stressed about something. Maybe he was just doing his usual bullying, but then why was Clover looking so tight-lipped? It was probably that Eamon was suspecting - "And Eamon wants you two to be his models!" Fiyero decided with a wicked looking smile that looked more like he deserved to be punched in the nose again.
Don't think the oh-so-great Erika Harrington would forget about touching her cat, Fiyero! Clover was only for her to touch, no one else. It was a bit surprising to realize how possessive she was of the feline, though. "Wait, what?" Eamon was more than a bit startled. "Why do I want to make them my models?" Fiyero's grin grew wider and it was obvious he had a surprise hidden up his ugly robe that honestly didn't look the slightest bit professional. For being a servant of a clothes designer, he had quite the gaudy outfit. It made Erika think of a bald fat monk who liked to dig his finger into his belly button to smell the lint. Except Fiyero's lint probably smelled like mana, since familiars don't really sweat. "Why? Because what's better than vigilantes than getting the real Blue Lotus and Tiger Lily to do it for us?"
Eamon crossed arms so tight Erika almost stopped to wonder how long it would take to turn arms into pretzels. "Ugh, Fiyero, I wanted to pretend! It's less awkward that way!" Fiyero looked like he was ready to break into song and dance. Probably not a very good song, either. "But it's more fun for me this way!" It's not like he was tightly wound enough or anything, maybe a pretzel, nice and fresh and softly baked - no, freshly baked - would cheer him up. Oh, wait, Fiyero just - "If you don't have evidence for that claim-" If anything, Fiyero looked like he was trying to do an impression of the Cheshire Cat. Sadly for him it just made him look like a lecher, unless that was just Erika's bias kicking in. "Here you go." He flipped through photos from his phone to reveal them in shadows, changing into their new design. "We had a suspicion ever since the whole Balloon Bomber thing." Eamon said, rolling his eyes. "So I had Fiyero tail you... and this was what he decided to take a photo of? Really?" It was a shot of the day where they finally apprehended the Bomber.
"So." Fiyero licked his lips in a way that made Erika want to tear them off and feed them to Clover. Maybe that would even give her mana? No, that probably wasn't how it worked, you idiot. "I'll let you delete this stuff off my phone if you two agree to model for us." Eamon groaned, it seemed it wasn't him who put his perverted familiar up to this, this was entirely Fiyero's doing. "Or else, maybe I'll give that cute reporter girl a call? Elsbeth? She does have a nice decent sized chest and-" Erika decided not to listen as Fiyero described the reporter's chest. "Sorry." She murmured to Clover. This was her fault for not being more careful, wasn't it? How could they miss Fiyero? Was she just too focused on getting rid of that balloon jerk that day? "I can't think of anything to get us out of this." Eamon swiped the phone quickly and pocketed it. "You know I can use alchemy to add special protective qualities to fabrics, right?" He wasn't good for spells, but that was something he could do. "I'll make you two something that'll actually be able to protect you. And it'll look good, too." His eyes were sparkling - maybe he was finally warming up to Clover.
How did Erika guess that? Well, it was probably because during this entire talk Eamon was unconsciously running his hands through Clover's head fur.
And what was happening with the Bernard household as this was happening? Well, something very obvious because what else would it be? "Your job was to protect my son." Harvey Bernard shouted through his tears. He and a few servants stood at the Wall of Glory. They were going to banish Maple to the other side because she failed in her task. "I took you in, I trained you and taught you magic, and you couldn't even save my child!" The police grabbed her by the arms. "Get her out of my sight." Later that day Bernard would be found in his office, in pieces. The official report would say that it was a magical explosion of too much mana, an accident... but who knew what the truth was?
As for Maple, she wandered the ghetto of the poor side of the Residential District, crying as she walked. She failed, she was cast out, and now she might never get to see Clover ever again. That night, she was found by someone. That someone pulled the black cat into the shadows. "You look like you're having a hard time, Maple." This hooded person was the True Heroine, of course. "Do you want to get your sister back?" Maple didn't know who it was, of course. The True Heroine was very good at staying out of pictures or the public eye. "If you join me and help us, you'll see her again. We'll even guarantee her safety once we can take down the Wall of Misery." That was what those on this side of the wall called it.
Maple nodded, because she knew she had no other options left. "Then welcome to the Revolution." A bright smile full of hidden intentions greeted her. "They call me the True Heroine."