Sold my soul, Broke my bones

We are building a religion, we are making a brand We're the only ones to turn to when your castles turn to sand

“I ain’t tellin’ you my weight if that’s what you’re tryin’ ta’ squeeze outta me,” she’d tease with a growing smile. “Helps I gotta lotta arms … I’m a strong gal. When people ask how I got so strong I tell’em four times a week hair day.”

When Tyco continued, however, she felt her smile.. Wilt. Ever so slightly. But she did her best to mask it over. “Yeah … That’s what everyone said.” Didn’t realize it at the time what exactly they meant, though. How she knew her father didn’t even say anything about her dye job since she no longer had her mother’s hair. No more reminders.

“I can’t imagine you with any otha’ hair cola’, though,” she’d continue, changing the subject off her. “Cant think’a you as anythin’ but a sleek black scalp.”

The fly snapped his fingers, “Damn, you caught on to my elaborate scheme to get a gym partner. So sad. But I do actually need a gym partner if you wanna start up unrelated to this all.”

“ANYWAYS, I digress,” Tyco waved his hand to usher in the next thought, “Really though? I’ve been thinking of a dye job. You know those ones where it looks black until the light hits it and theres a shimmer of blues and pinks and stuff like an oil slick? Maybe something along those lines.”

She suppresses a laugh, possibly cruel in nature, at his request. Just like him, Hellsa understood that the information was not just interesting but useful and, like most useful information, should not just be given away freely. As it is, Hellsa’s never been keen on revealing where her loyalties lie, even though the only true answer also happens to be the most obvious one, herself. 

(How anyone manages to convince themselves the answer is anything different is beyond her).

“You and everyone else, I’m sure. But you have to know I can’t just tell you who I may or may not be exploiting. After all, you don’t win wars by giving away strategies.” War might be a bit of a strong word, it had been a long time since any social battles she encountered had that kind of gravity to their outcome, but accuracy wasn’t really her concern in this (or any) discussion.

“To ease your mind, though, I’m willing to tell you that you’re not on the list of those I’m using, not that I’d say anything different if you were.”

“Where’s the fun in that though? Someone’s gotta stir the pot every now and then,” Tyco rolled his head back as he spoke, a usually display in dramatics. “Everything around this scene just gets so stale without it. I mean, I know I don’t have to explain the social politics to you of everyone. But still.”