Quoted By:
๑:
It doesn't matter. Now it's not the time to fuck around. Marie sold her soul for that wish: she /has/ to get something in return.
>Look at my... Soul Gem? Dolores called it? What color is it?
Marie transforms the ring on her finger into it's bulkier Soul Gem shape; it's orange. It's also murky already. Should it become completely black, she will become a man-devouring, pain-sowing Witch, completely clouded by despair.
It's like she's barely taking notice.
As fear threatens to seize her senses, Marie sees in real time how her Soul Gem, that pretty gem, grows slightly less orange and slightly more black- then unglues her eyes from it violently. No; it doesn't matter. She had already chosen to live hard and fast, to spend a day like a lion and not a hundred like sheep. It's going to be worth it.
>Look for an umbrella and grab it. Go outside even if I don't find one.
For some reason, staying home feels like a very bad idea, so Marie grabs the black umbrella hidden behind the cupboard, the one with dolphin patterns, and takes to the streets in a rush. Fucking magic. Fucking dolphins. And fucking Dolores if you dared scam my ass.
>Try and look for an abandoned area, building, prime marks. If the weekend is going to end soon and I might faint again I might as well get in as much B&E as possible before I'm bed-ridden.
Knowing that her power doesn't trigger automatically it's the silver lining the sky isn't giving her. Making path through Osaka, haunted by the thousand words from the flashy screens, Marie is having a hard time focusing on dodging all the people surrounding her from every side, all drops of a water from a single river.
She doesn't want people right now.
The fresh breeze threatens a downpour as the gray above grows solid, yet Marie's black boots have already taken her to a silent place. The factory, very away from home, could very well be a graveyard. Although the voices of kawaii anime girls trying to sell her stuff is omnipresent, the sound of cars feels like a soothing whisper, and so Marie decides that she is exactly where she wants to be.
Tension wrench-kun.
Pick rake-kun.
Flathead screwdriver-kun.
Humming a tune, Marie gets out of that dark place, only to break into another dark, humid place. The reality most people like to dismiss is that people could barge in at your house at any time they please. Lockpicking essentials are sold on the Internet, including even manuals, and there are even videos of people teaching it how to do it step-by-step. The justification for their existence is well beyond Marie; she can't bring herself to deny that all this information has led to people getting murdered. But, she's grateful to have it, and that's good enough for her.
.....crrrreaaaaaakkk.
Right as Marie unlocks the door, it opens with such a heavy creaking sound that it might as well be a security alarm. Excitement takes over; now she won't even have to worry about getting caught because she's a Magical Girl.
