Boys will be boys, won't they?
That's what Momiji would say in these types of situations. If she were stupid enough to get herself involved in them... Which in some cases, she was. And just because boys were allowed to be boys, it didn't mean she'd avoid cursing the absolute snot out of their pissy selves. Maybe even beating them up a little, hey, that might work. And Momiji was very good at getting riled up enough to want to beat someone up. It didn't even take so much as a blink for her to feel the fire burn within, that desire to rip someone's nose off and eat it.
But let's rewind, shall we? How on earth did she even get to this place, anyway. Well, it started that morning, as many things often start. Momiji's one for sleeping late. And often. Actually, any time she isn't forced to be awake, the misfortune god can be seen snoozing her years away. But ah, today on the most unholy of days, she wasn't permitted such a pleasure. Every time the lass would close her eye(s) a noise would rip her from her slumber, no matter how deep she could entrench herself.
Primarily she believed it to be her teddy bear familiar, and scolded him heartily without restraint. This, of course, sent him in near-tears out the door with a heavy soul and sorrow blanketed over him. He would be on his way, now, to a soul-searching journey, trying to find out what went wrong? Where did he stray on his path? And in the end, discover that by Momiji's side is the only place he'd like to be. But as of now, he's out of the picture.
Hour two. The noise persists, and Momiji yet again rises from her deep sleep. Annoyed, thoroughly so, she throws the blankets off so that they're nothing but a forgotten heap of cloth on the floor. This would become important later, when she'd use this exact cloth as a hiding space from what seemed to be a specter waltzing around her apartment. Before that, however, Momiji would have to go through several trials and tribulations to even reach that conclusion.
Such as slugging to the bathroom for a bit of a tinkle. Upon where she'd lift the toilet seat up (her roommate was so fickle, always putting it down like she was afraid of the splashes that occurred after one flushed. Those contained the particles of your shit, or whatever ungodly item you dropped from your nether-regions, and would surely spray you upon their mini whirlpool as they licked the inside of the bowl. To Momiji, this was fine, as it was the grime and dirt that coated her that allowed her to retain this misfortunate form!)
That's not the point though, is it? The point here is Momiji going to the bathroom and lifting up the porcelain top, only to screech at the most horrifying pitch even the most skilled soprano wouldn't be able to reach. Because, god almighty, there was a tentacle in there-- what was worse -- it was connected to a full-blown octopus! And it was slowly climbing out, so of course her first instinct is to grab the plunger and force it as far down there as it could go. Like a man trying to get his girlfriend to deepthroat, and she's trying, oh, she's trying but it just won't do, and in the end that octopus ends up winning and Momiji's running out the bathroom, throwing shut the door behind her.
So that was the noise, was it? Well now they have a problem. Her eyes flicker to the resting areas of her roommates, more afraid of their wrath upon awakening than the fact she actually might bother them, and is relieved to see they haven't stirred. Either that or they've just grown so accustomed to her shenanigans. Nonetheless, Momiji decides that the best way to handle this situation would be to leave it to another. Because it's totally not her fault that she just broke the toilet trying to shove a marine animal back down there... I guess.
Quietly the god tip-toes out the door and closes it behind her, a little clumsier than she would have hoped, as it creates a bang so loud it might as well have been in competition with a canon's roar. Alas. That's not her problem now! She goes running down the stairs and out into the darkly-blanketed streets of Hive City, instantly thinking it might have been a better idea to stay inside. But no, no, she is a God. A God of Misfortune, she's not afraid of the dark.
And so Momiji begins her quest of the night, navigating with only one shoe and one free hand and one eye to match, the barely-visible stars as her guide, picking her wedgie as she goes. God it was a nasty wedgie. When's the last time she's changed her underwear, anyway? It must be musty as hell down there... Does she even wear underwear? Momiji can't remember, but she's not about to start slipping off her overalls to find out.
Not out here in Hive City. Even if the dark could serve as a cover, she was positive there were enough stalking creatures with glowing eyes who's vision could pierce right through the night's icy black blanket. Therefore, she continues on to forget the inquiry of her own underwear, never to let it cross her mind again until another day.
You can see already she hasn't had the best of sleep, right? Whether she's had any at all can be debatable. Momiji spends the rest of the night searching for small crevices in the buildings, or anywhere comfy that she could rest her head. Unfortunately more than once she's been chased out by midget gangsters, rabbit robbers, and blood-sucking lolis. There are more than those than should be allowed to exist, you know. Which usually wouldn't be such a problem, but Momiji was goddamn tired, and her powers had been restrained. Not to mention she had chased out her trusty familiar just hours before, so she wasn't in the greatest position to defend herself.
Fast forward to now, it's daylight, and she's trying to catch a break outside this fake-o chinese restaurant. The dumpster serves as a nice soft cushion for her weary body for a while, but as soon as she finds the comfort of sleep creeping over her, someone's woken her up with shouts of a foreign language she can't understand. She tries to wave them away, but this ends her up on the stove somehow. Literally on the stove. How? We don't know, and we'll never know. Obviously she's gotta get out of there, though, so she makes a break for it as soon as she can find the opportunity and slips out the window.
Every step is another three pounds knocking in her skull. One flick of her eye can send lightning through her head, and shivers down her body. She's tired. She's weary. All she wants is to sleep, dear god, why can't this goddamn city give her that satisfaction? Has she done something to deserve this? Is being a God of Misfortune really all that bad? Their ultimate goal is to teach humanity kindness, after all. Even if their title might suggest otherwise. Many things are not as they seem, though, no?
Like this wall, for instance. It seems like just an innocent brick wall. It's a bit high for her liking, but hey, she's no architect. In fact if she looks closer she can see it's actually creating a nice shady patch here for her to rest. A good barrier to the sun, it was. A slender, bony hand reaches out to press its palm against it, creating a nice place for Momiji to lean upon as she thinks. The sun's already up and she still hasn't had a wink of shut-eye. Should she just sleep all day? Or should she wait until night to keep her sleeping schedule in tact.
Then again, what the hell does she care? She's always done whatever the hell she's wanted to. So why should it stop here? There wasn't even any naggy old Sakura Ichiko present to tell her why she shouldn't do anything, or why she should be banished from this earth or, god forbid, punch her in the face. Man, that woman could it. Momiji subconsciously raises her hand to rub at her cheek, feeling as if a bruise could form just at the thought of that woman's fist. Augh...
And for a moment, the world freezes, and Momiji becomes lost in her thoughts. Thoughts that drift back to that city she should have been trapped in. To her mission. To protect Ichiko... For the first time, Momiji realizes she's failing that mission, and an anxious snake coils around whatever small object she has for a heart. It's stupid, really, she knows not to be connected with humans, but this one's grown different. She's....
...Different. The mist glazes over her expression and before long Momiji finds herself resting against the wall, no matter how uncomfortable a position it was. Further and further she slips down the slope of her day dreams, dreams that soon become reality as she falls into slumber. A sweet slumber she's been chasing all night, morning, and into the hours of the sun. It feels good, but only for a moment, because in reality the grating texture of the wall can only scrub against her cheeks as she slides down, and she's abruptly awoken.
She curses under her breath, letting slim fingers scratch idly against her cheek, as if attempting to regain the knowledge of how to feel. A sensation that's lost in the fog of drifting out of sleep. A sleep she so wish she could return to, but alas, this was not the place. Perhaps if she were to lay down it would be better. Momiji Binboda was not above sleeping outside. If anything, she liked i-- no... it can't be said that she enjoys it. It's just what it is. Just like anything, Momiji will take it for what it is.
It's too much of a bother to care about the world around her and how it affects her, negatively or positively. She's simply an entity floating of her own free will. If something is so heinous she must remove it or alter it in order to continue enjoying her leisurely way of life, then perhaps she'll do something about it. Such as move out of the way. Which is what she aims to do right now as Momiji peels herself away from the wall, dusting off the bits of residue that have stuck to her clothes.
But something stops her. Scares her. A scream jumps from her throat and lingers in the air for several seconds longer, perhaps even a minute. Something had fallen and bonked her on the head, something she heard land a few feet away but she still continues to scream instead of actually checking out what was happening. Really, Momiji wasn't sure what she was doing after that first minute, and just like the rule of inertia that states an object in motion shall be kept in that same motion until altered, so will Momiji continue to scream until she is stopped by her own will or that of another's.
By now her face has turned blue, tinting on violet, and unless she wants to pass out and subject herself to more fruity torture she should take a breath. Which she does... eventually. She's on her knees now, though, limbs gone weak from how much air she's pushed from her lungs. Ah, she's overdone it, hasn't she? Momiji desperately wants to get back up and figure out what the hell happened, but it takes a minute or two for her to actually regain composure enough to lift herself up. Oh well. It's not like she didn't have all the time in the world... Misfortune Gods live a long life, after all. And this has altered her perception of the flow of time. So instead of others who are always trying to bustle and move and get their life going, Momiji has the privilege to take it easy and waste her's away.
Alright-- breathe, Binboda, breathe. Here we go. She ascends, now, eyes peeled and dangerously squinting for the object that bounced off her cranium. It doesn't take long until her gaze fixates upon a discarded apple core and she kneels down to pick it up betwixt thumb and forefinger. Lifting it high as if to examine, she brings out a magnifying glass from her overalls and lets it hover in the space between her eye and the core, apparently looking for clues.
But it's something she doesn't need, as it only takes the turn of her head to spot a pair of dangling little legs hung over the wall like some kind of overgrown squirrel. If squirrels were allowed legs in their pitiful lives... Now imagine it. A squirrel with long, toned, sexy shaven legs. You want to touch them, don't you? OH, you're such a furry. Touching those legs. How sick. No, no worries... I would touch them too. In fact, I'd like a squirrel with legs as a pet so I could lay my cheek against their smooth leg and move up and down, letting the soft friction tingle my senses.
But this up here, this was no squirrel, not even a squirrel with human legs. Unfortunately. He was too princely for that bullshit. Momiji stands there, slightly wavering from her lack of sleep-induced discombobulation, as she debates whether or not to confront him about it. On the one hand, she could just let it go, be i her way and possible find some nice patch of grass to curl up on. But on the other...
He had hit her with a fucking apple. What kind of punk does that? It didn't matter what his status was, it didn't matter if boys would be boys, Momiji was about ready to go up there and kick his ass because NO, she did NOT have time for this today. Not after that restless night and those images of legged squirrels running through her mind... That was enough for a hundred years worth of not sleeping. Yeah, she was angry, and she was going to take it out on this asshole.
With a flash she's already jumped up there. Hey, even if her powers were repressed, it doesn't take away her basic physiology, right? She's a goddamn God, she can jump further with ease than any human should be able to. In fact, she can procure cosplays right out of the blue a hundred times a day. What can explain that? Science? No, hell no, I don't think so. But now that she's actually up here, she needs not but a second to regain her composure, staring at the Prince with her exposed eye.
It's a little windy up here, and nature's fart blows her hair just a bit, almost making her look like a hobo who walked into a victoria's secret model shoot. Resting her cast at chest-level in its usual position, Momiji employs her other hand in keeping her bangs from flying too far into her face. She needs that eye to squint angrily at the teen in front of her, after all.
Her tongue is dragged across dry lips, and for a tiny instant Momiji realizes she hasn't had anything to eat or drink all night. Eating, though she felt it was dire, she could go without. But drinking was another story. Even a bit of water would have helped her mood right now, so delirious and cranky from sleep deprivation and dehydration. What an awfully chosen day and an awfully chosen person to throw an apple core at. But that's fate for you, isn't it? Twisting two lives together at the strangest of times.
She says, her voice low as always. Momiji's words never really carry any girth to them, nor sharpness. Unless she's seriously kidding around she doesn't even bother to lift it that much. Could it be the only thing she actually spends time and energy on is joking? Yes, it can. Because she's just that type of person, and therefore it's extremely hard to tell whether or not she's being serious sometimes. Right now is one of those times... except that anger she felt... that was real. That was serious.
That was seriously real, and really serious. Even if the manner it's being narrated in may suggest otherwise, that's just the realm from which Momiji reigns. Things that happen are supposed to be taken seriously, but it's executed in such a way that prevents the reader from taking it as such! Then again, it still has the power to make people cry. Please read it, it's such a good series and you wont regret it.
It also breaks the fourth wall a lot, just like this narration is doing right here. This is completely in character, that way, you see. It's not ridiculous at all. Alas, this should probably be getting back on track now, no? This crime was heinous! Super heinous! Inexcusable and annoying, like the very existence of mosquitoes.
And it looked like the perpetrator was a real punk-ass motherfucker, too. Look at him, can he even see with all that hair in his eyes? Was he blind, perhaps? His senses could make up for that fact, then. Or he might have been an ex-base ball player, that may have explained his impeccable aim towards her head. At such a high angle too, it was a lucky shot. But ah, no, he couldn't be a baseball player, he didn't have a goatee, nor that perpetual look of guilt that constantly festered around him over stabbing some chick in the bathroom.
So he was just an annoying kid, then? This conclusion elicits a sigh from the Misfortune God, who seems to relax just a bit. She can't keep up this emotion for long, she's so tired, but she still intends to scold this kid on his actions. Taking a moment to scratch at the side of her head when the wind dies down a bit, Momiji stares right into what she believes to be his eyes, and reaches down into her overalls. When she pulls her hand back out, an apple core can be seen, and she dangles it a little above her head like an owner would to its cat to tempt it to jump.
Her disposition suddenly turns sweet. Too sweet. Almost enough to give you cavities if you continue to look too hard. But of course it's nothing but a farce, and as Momiji wears this saccharine mask she pulls her shoulder back to get ready for the toss. She would wink, but unfortunately she only has one eye exposed at all times to do anything with, so even if she did it would only appear as a blink. Or if she tried to do it with the other eye, it wouldn't appear as if she was doing anything at all. She can only look cute without relying on the magic of an anime wink.
And with that, she thrusts her palm forward, the apple projecting from her fingers at a high speed and hurling towards the other. The apple core cuts through the air like a sword through flesh or a toddler splashing violently into the water. Its trajectory is headed straight towards the Prince, and if it were to hit, it would probably hurt a bit. Of course, he was crafty, so perhaps he'd be skillful enough to dodge it in time.
All that mattered to Momiji right now, though, was releasing this rage within. The pent up emotions that had been slowly leaking into her from the outside source of her lack of sleep, like an infiltration of two opposing forces. Slowly, one by one, its soldiers would sneak inside, unbeknownst to the host as its such a small fraction at a time. Before long, however, there's a whole bunch of soldiers in there, perhaps a whole army, and they're ready to release their gumption.
Maybe later she could care about hitting him. Later as in as soon as she threw this apple core. That was only considering the option it might miss him, however. She'd surely be satisfied if it made the connection with his face. Or shoulder. Dick would be nice, but that was a stretch. She would have to work hard if she wanted to hit the golden land.
And so she would let her little projectile fly, fly away like a bird pushes its babies from the nest. That apple core had been with her since the beginning... the beginning of this hatred towards this squirrel of a boy, this stupid long legged marsupial who had the gall to hit her upon the head with a discarded food item. Ew, his spit was probably all over it, right? Ah, what if it got in her hair? Oh icky, boy cooties!
But with every large attack should come with a catchphrase, right? Momiji thinks of this between the split seconds the apple makes its last registration on her fingertips, and she must think quickly to pull one out of her ass. One that would look cool and make her a hero in the eyes of kids watching everywhere, even though this isn't a TV show and there are probably not people watching because this kind of shenanigan happens every fucking day in this fucking city. Ahh-- she's got it!
Oh yeah. There it is. Such a badass comeback, that oughtta show him!.... Alright, even Momiji could admit later that it was terrible and she probably shouldn't have said anything at all. But at least it sends out a good message towards the environment, right? Littering is a top crime, after all. Especially when that litter hits her on the fucking head after a night of not sleeping and dealing with shit from one hundred different angles. Then, it really is bad.
