>>5651192>>5651221>>5651513>>5651550>Let them be. Maybe Emma will do something.You find yourself half a nanosecond away from smashing a Magical Girl into the barrier- and stopping. Damn. Standing still is harder than moving. It’s like you are on fire.
But, you accept it. It’s the least that you, the God of Magical Girls, can do: accept that every time you meddled things got worse over and over again. It hurts, of course, because you’ve always meant well. But now you can redeem yourself- by doing nothing.
It’s all up to Emma now. Let’s watch her grow
or stay in place so paralyzed that she’s not blinking, that works too. Poor thing; the hamsters in that brain of hers must be setting everything on fire. And yet, when the cop comes, she “just” so happens to be on his way, and he stumbles on her.
▲ Emma: Ow! Sorry!
She turns to face him face to face, and all red is drained from hers. It’s not even that look on his face, it’s not even his size. At this point, the facts speak enough: this is Buenos Aires, the capital city of Argentina, meaning that there’s at least a fifty-fifty chance that this man with a manstache under his sunglasses just buried someone’s face in the hood of his black and white car
yet he still tilts his hat in greeting.
Policeman: My bad, lil missy. What about yours?
▲ Emma: Sorry. My bad.
Emma nods apologetically and walks away, glancing at Angel who somehow teleported and is now reading a magazine
but a hand gently yet firmly grasps her arm, big enough to wrap itself around it.
Policeman: Not that one bad, princess. I wanna you to talk me about the other one bad. The one 'bout you stealing from these fine people.
Cashier: Wait WHAT?
Camila, Karuna, and Marcela stop moving and breathing at the exact same time.
▲ Emma: But- I didn't steal anything! I'll show y-
Policeman: (covering his face) Now, now, you keep that dress on cause it's cold or I'll go back to find my humble cabin raided by them feminist gals.
▲ Emma: But I have nothing! I'm not lying!
Policeman: Calm down, no need for hysterics. I know you dindu nuffin, princess. This old fella here is just havin' a hard time thinkin' you ain related to that other girl over there.
And, of course, he's pointing at Angel. Who had just stolen yet another tiny chocolate bottle filled with whisky.
Policeman: And to those other two gals back there, cause y'know that's a whole buncha girls is what me thinks.
▲ Camila: Two?
She glances at Marcela, outside, happy, free, sprinting away.
▲ Camila: (M-FUCKING BITCH!!)
