Quoted By:
λ Felicia: That felt weird! I’m never doing that again!
You… kinda agree, despite just watching everything through a hacked Kyubey. The transition as you left the snow globe was kinda of nauseating. Lifa is the only one that is not complaining. Staring around as Patchwing rests on its head, the mammoth obediently lays on the veteran’s bed, over all of her scattered, likely dirty clothes. Wordlessly, Lifa untransforms (which reminds Felicia to do the same), picks up the snow globe, and leaves the room with the smaller of the blondes following in tow.
Grandma: Oh dear, did your robot friend shrink? Who is this new model?
Lifa: One I had hidden under the bed.
You can’t tell if that’s just how they communicate or if Lifa’s grandmother does take that literally- but it’s all you are left to work with as the granddaughter leaves the house through the front door with firm steps. You don’t get to see her eyes. Once past the little bridge with carps, once past the tree-shaped iron gate, Lifa lifts the snow globe over the Planet Earth that is her hair- and looks around, and hesitates- and smashes it against the pavement.
λ Felicia: WHAAT?
And just like that, Lucinda is there, still transformed. As if she was summoned like a Pokemon. The deadliest of blondes takes her time to stand, then looks over her shoulder; when she sees Lifa and Felicia, she untransforms. After holding eye contact with her date for a good five seconds, the Fucknado limps away, not leaving a word in her wake- and you can tell that Felicia’s got stuck in her throat.
λ Felicia: (Madoka, that girl is too scary! Everyone is too scary around here!)
Well, this isn’t Japan. In Latino cultures, you often get what you see- and no person in the world is not scary in its unique special way. You tell Felicia that everything is going to be alright, even if you have absolutely no idea if that’s going to be the case.
As Lucinda vanishes the second a bus hides her from your sight, you realize that this isn’t over yet.
Lifa: Come.
You feel <span class="mu-s">very</span> commanded- most likely, by your guilt.
