ASTUTE PARIAH.

" OWWWIEEEE, SHE'S THROWING GRAPES AT ME!! "

stay hating, bitches.

now cora shall yawn & plop right back on her comfortable cushion, smirking in evil fashion. ❛ heh .... wimpy losers. ❜ the grapes shall now be continued to be munched on.

gotteem.

" See?? GRAPES!! "

...

cora continues to chomp on the grapes, in nonchalant fashion, before one hand decides to take several of them & .... fwoop! fwoop! fwoooop!

incoming grapes being thrown in both idia & lia's direction. ❛ can ya' two shut the fuck up, already? some of us ain't in mood fer' regular ignihyde shenanigans. ❜

" Grapes are easy to acquire and easy to eat~ "

in the distance, you can see ( & hear ) cora loudly chewing on ... what appears to be a bowl of grapes.

❛ .... hah? the hell am i hearin' about grapes? ❜

she won't even bother to check up on what the ever loving fuck is happening ... over there.

He takes the moment for what it is, letting this tribute be the trip back to rationality. He keeps the tin of flavored fries in between them before he's plucking a few for himself, savoring the crisp heat of potato and cheese. It was filling, and a lifestyle like his required a good set of carbs to keep the magic working.

"I'll count my blessings. But sheesh, two days since ya even plucked a meal?" Experiences like this weren't uncommon to the studious types, some folks could become literal specters when it comes to their craft.

If fighting wasn't such a decisive and energy intensive 'sport', Lighter pictured he might be the same.

"What's exactly been on your weapons menu? Personalized armaments, or somethin' devoted to easy to make explosions? How about that as a repayment?"

He certainly didn't mind using favor for something this simple. Part of him couldn't resist trying to imagine the range so to speak.

now that the feral beast was quenched - by beast, of course it's cora's satiated hunger - would clarity come to her mind, finding herself slowly calming down. those fries - while in small quantity - were just delicious enough to satisfy the one who lost sense of time whenever holed up within that damn workshop of hers.

lighter's daunting comment on cora's bad habit, to put it mildly, only made the green haired dismissively wave her hand. it's like she's saying "i'm used to it", in spite of what others might have to say. humans and thirens can survive through far, far worse exteriors this world had to offer ... a little hunger won't kill cora, especially if it means completing yet another project her innovative mind came up with.

besides, she can always blame "passage of time" on her negligence for food.

hearing the "favor" at hand, cora darts her gaze in lighter's direction with mild boredom. if you looked closely, there were signs of soot splattered along her forehead, jawline and crook of neck. ❛ sheeeesh, yer' fucking boring, yanno that? ❜

cue a pause to stretch her arms, hearing few bones cracking in the process. ❛ it ain't anything large, this time 'round....just testin' out sweet goods i got from a previous gig. missiles, launches, high tech machines, yadda yadda.... typical shit, y'know? ❜ then and there, cora pauses to lean a little closer to lighter - chin pressed on the champion's shoulder - as a finger reaches out to poke against his cheek.

❛ i can show ya' the crazy modifications i put on them bad boys. who knows, i could even pin 'em on yer' crusty bike... hmmm? whaddya say? ❜

Managed. Just barely.

Cora's introduction of pain meant his approach had to be refined, a fair enough condition.

"You've stepped not only to my ring, but my fries as well. Centering on the fact mines are lookin' the most appetizing. Who wouldn't be a little curious?"

Three more would be plucked, that earlier stunt needing a test for a new approach as they're settled right before her lips.

maybe if her stomach wasn't doing the talking, cora wouldn't have acted upon an impulse such as, well, biting on someone else's fingers like a rabid dog, but there's an additional fact that lighter seems to really, really enjoy playing with the green haired inventor's inner, bumbling fire ... the same one that would ignite any big shot which preyed on this world's rough times. even so, cora might've almost ripped off the champion's most important body part - used for punching things left and right - but such was her simple epitome: fuck around and find out.

pupils almost seem to dilate upon the sight of three additional fries being offered close to her lips. damn, she knew hunger was taking over her but she didn't think it was bad enough to make her lunge forward, once again, to instantly chomp down onto those poor, unfortunate fries

at least this time, she tried not to bite his fingers - and if she did, well, it wasn't on PURPOSE.

❛ uuuugh, FINALLY, now we're talkin'! ❜ she pauses to chew heartily, her body visibly relaxing. ❛ hell, i ain't even gonna kick yer' face in for the "chihuahua" comment! yanno' i'm larger than some ugly lil' dog. ❜ spoke cora midst chewing, one hand haphazardly wiping few crumbs off her lips.

❛ maaan, that hit the spot...i ain't realized it's been, what, a day or two since i last ate. been so holed up over a latest weapon testin' to even care.... ❜ cue a small sigh. ❛ sooooo ... want me t' return a favor fer' that, macho boy? i like to keep things fair, yanno that. ❜

He'd pluck one of those fries from his current bundle, only to hold it before Cora's lips.

"grouchy" is one way to describe cora's attitude, she won't deny that ... which is only worsening by second because of her goddamn stomach! even now, it's growling out in agony - begging for even one piece of fry. her goal is so, so close ... if only this cocky bastard wasn't messing with her.

he even has the AUDACITY to assume she's doing this "to be spoiled". seriously?! right in front of an innocent fry?!

that does it.

❛ hrrrrrr..... you punch lovin' sonnuva- ❜ then and there, cora gives in her impulse: she lunges forward to bite on the fry AND bites on lighter's fingers for a split second, before breaking off with an impatient huff. ❛ and SOMEONE wants t' get their hand bitten off by a hungry animal! ❜

"Oh?? And since when did we have a deal 'pon this particular bounty? I can't go and damn a soul brother due to any demand here. The port here has a special sale goin' on them right now."

He would be a liar if he said these back and forths weren't an effort to explore her character. It wasn't a place of judgement, rather he could only understand by getting active with him, braving the thorns and bramble that didn't truly mean harm to those with no intent. "Couldn't agree more." She'd find solidarity in that notion, for it was often those who had a touch too much influence and reach that harbored a horrific sense of moxie.

There's an understandable shift found in the switch up to something more-- simple. It does prompt a prolonged glance before the Champion wriggles his nose. "More or less. Long days for me aren't relatively new. Given the position of the Sons's, there's a certain amount of upkeep I have to see with the other Motocross league." it has been enlightening to say at the very least. Though, the hellish distances they are apart from each other need to be taken into account someday.

Maybe then he'll actually favor taking routes that aren't on the off road.

"But, some new angles to explore doesn't hurt in the least."

although one part of cora's mind was tempted to throw a snarky comment regarding lighter's "long days" - almost wanting to stir up yet another back & forth between the two - there was another, more rational thought that occurred within her ... she rarely ever sleeps, as well. sure, one could blame it on the inventor's rather wild backstory & the surrounding she grew up in, but even then, you'd catch some people being able to sleep at night in spite of inhumane happenings. cora figured her projects & constant need to fix, tweak & create hogged her mind to the point of not realizing passage of time.

either way, it didn't change her observation onto lighter's features, who was clearly tired but hid it beneath those shades like it's nothing. aside from those leisure comments, who the hell knew what was whirling in this guy's head, all day? cora sure as hell didn't - & she prided herself in being able to read someone's character based off their weaponry, alone - hence the back & forth. you'd sooner catch cora dead than outright admit this, but she was rather curious of this "undefeated champion". sure, other son's of the gang had their variety quirks ( honorable mention to that cheery pyromaniac ), but given her brief history with lighter ... she couldn't deny there was curiosity.

that, or maybe she's just fucking bored & has nothing else to do but sit around with the son's of calydon. who knew? cora won't deny she's uncertain of these changes in her surroundings ... seeing she'd find it hard to believe they want her around for too long.

pausing from taking yet another sip, icy eyes are quick to narrow as they shift their focus onto the champion. "rewards", he says ... as if there's anything worth celebrating. destructive tendencies? chaotic events stirred by her own hands? inflicting fear onto those who dared imposing the vulnerable ones? those aren't much in her eyes, seeing she's just fighting out of spite against the higher ups - was it selfish? yes, but you won't catch cora denying the notion - but if it means having a place to crash? anything will go.

that being said, the inventor scoffs before adjusting on the seat once again - this time stretching her legs out to rest them against a mahogany table. ❛ i ain't one t' easily accept "rewards". nothin' to gimme a medal for, yanno? ❜ she responds in curt fashion, only pausing to dangle the bottle in one hand whilst her free hand adjusts the goggles on top her head. ❛ not all of us like attention, "undefeated champion". sure, i ain't ashamed t' say i busted my ass off to even keep my head on shoulders, let alone find a spot in this joint. even so ... i want little t' no eyes goggling on what i do & what my job entails. i don't even like it when people stare at me, for too long ... makes me think they're up to no good. ❜

you mind your business, i mind my own ... a simple mindset cora came to understand, especially after practically living her whole life relying on nobody but herself. cora decides to finish her bitter answer with a snarky jab: ❛ buuuut.... if ya' wanna consider "hearing pathetic men cry for mercy after the "mad scientist" crushes their tiny balls" as a "reward", then be my guest. ❜ cue a pause to chuckle lowly. ❛ gotta ask ... what's supposed to be yer' idea of me "enjoying the rewards"? ❜

On one hand he understands the perspective of personal intent. Lighter also knows that not everyone can know each event sprawling across this whole desert. Now attacks in themselves should be somewhat normal, some fodder lording as a bigshot wishes to capitalize or draw out some inane point.

If only that experience was anything but. "We know the language of intent." He decides to emphasize instead. Before that smile that offers up nothing but 'questionable' promises at best, he releases a gentle huff. "I'm talking paramilitary who failed to hold either rhyme or reason. City squabbles tryin' to sink their claws into a legend that briefly passed by here."

The one known as Hoshimi Miyabi.

"And they didn't care who got in the crossfire. I'll be someone that believes you. Frightened emotion on the other hand? It loves to dabble into the irrational and cares all about causes, never the face."

Part of him couldn't resist being curious about her craft. Mechanics of all shapes and sizes seem drawn to Blazewood's facilities, primarily for the wonders of automobile repair or getting even bigger trucks off on the road.

He's not shy to give a once over of Cora's work. The whole time, Lighter took note in how comfortable she's already metal and upon objects that hold more lethal meanings to most. To respond to that smile, those shades tilt down just a smidgen, unveiling a molten iris that creates its own sense of prominence. "This set up. You've whipped it altogether yourself? Must mean you're pretty popular."

lighter's words certainly caught cora's attention, if not for the sudden shift in tone - from seemingly lighthearted to an abrupt seriousness, one which would make even the jester fall quiet. in a sense, there's merit to gathering further intel on your whereabouts & understanding bits of the surroundings ... at the same time, however, the green haired inventor found this so... fucking... annoying. so annoying, in fact, that cora's tempted to sneer a "i didn't ask for a tragic story", but decides to keep her tongue at bay & not say anything. why do people have a need to info-dump every single detail on first glance : as if she ever asked to be told about some petty squabbling over a random bigshot of SECTOR 6.

if you asked cora, it's that "legend's" fault for being careless enough to prance on uneven territory. people are tense & the world is brimmed of backstabbers with malicious intent ... in times like these, you can't trust anyone.

at least that's one thing her good-for-nothing "old man" shoved in her head, prior to leaving everything behind.

cora's breath is quiet as her eyes are sharply focused on the aforementioned "fog gun", though it's obvious she listens to the man's not so hidden warning ... that, & she could easily see him leering to inspect her craftsmanship at hand. icy eyes slowly shift to the side, gazing up at molten ones ( damn, for a cocky bastard, he looks pretty handsome ... not that she cared enough about looks, of course ) before smirking and swinging her precious weapon in her hand - clearly showing off, just as anyone else would.

❛ heh ... sure did. guess ya' can call me an "inventor" of a kind. been whipping these bad boys for a looooong time...so long i forgot at what age i even started messing with junk like this. ❜ pausing to swiftly replace its' mags with newer ones - the kind that only seemed lethal & insanely painted with neon colors, for the sake of messing with potential enemies' minds - cora then clicks her tongue before putting the "fog gun" right into her hidden holster. ❛ psh, me, popular ... yeah, popular with them higher up jackasses of shady companies t' want my skills on some bullshit projects. that's actually why i'm even here ... i've had enough of people & wanna be on my own. ❜

then & there, cora makes a daring move by extending a pinky finger & poking against lighter's chest - icy eyes now directly looking up at the man. ❛ that's my "intent" for being here. now, are ya' done with this sudden interrogation? i told ya' i ain't here to fuck shit up... unless ya' wanna see more of my craft. ❜