#ccxarin

@ccxarin​

The Inventor had no hard feelings against the magical mongrel. If her identity was compromised, she had to eliminate the source at all cost. It was not in her nature to attack anyone as she was more the kind of entity that preferred to stay locked up in her workshop or some laboratory – she used to trick others by feeding them with lies and making them look like fools. Now, it was not the case. On the contrary, the magical girl that ‘she’ had tailed had knowledge that could destroy her new life. There was nothing more precious to the card than her freedom.

Transformed, on top of the roof of a building around three blocks away from her target, the white-haired card was observing the latter’s every move. Her goggle was not for show as one of its purposes is to be a scope. “Target at 2 o’clock…” She lifted a heavy object similar to a rocket launcher and an early modern grenade rifle and carried out her mission. She sighed as she shot a little orb at the magical girl’s – more like civilian her – direction. It was in no hard feelings, but, to survive, one must forget anything that could get in the way even honor. If the Inventor had to survive, she would gladly sucker punch anyone.

It seemed that the orb landed right where it was supposed to. The substance that it held began to leak and thick fog clouded the area (a radius of twenty kilometers, which is about the same distance her powers can cover). The card had learned that from a previous encounter with another card who hindered the sight of its foe in order to take the upper hand in battle. It was clever and she remembered it. Thus, it was why she elaborated a formula to create fog using the natural humidity in the area. She sighed before she let the comfort of the roof to attack her opponent, a formidable foe at that who survived when others perished.

She landed quietly in the fog. Her goggle adjusted itself to the new surroundings for her to see.  If she was anything near her former self, she would have made her presence known by asking her enemy if she knew the difference between fog and mist, but she was no longer the trickster the world used to know. Instead, she restrained herself and remained quiet. She swiftly moved behind her opponent while taking what seemed like a pistol that came out from her leg.

8: Eyelid Kiss

@ccxarin

he’s trying to kick a glitching machine back to life when it happens. he’s always said these pac-man machines are old and decrepit and ready to kick the bucket at any moment, but the managers insist they’re good to go. he’s cursing his managers and the creator of pac-man and the ten year olds who should probably be home studying all at once when the whole building jerks violently, tossing him against the very game he was trying to fix and causing the power to flicker once before everything powers up in a cacophony of sound.

most of the patrons brush it off as a small earthquake, nothing to be concerned about. but with the way the tremor resonates as lingering vibrations in the bracelet around his wrist, he reluctantly accepts the fact that it was no earthquake. it’s something far worse, something he wants absolutely nothing to do with, because he swore off fighting the moment he escaped from the scaly grasp of what had once been his brother. and yet somehow the battles, the fights, the monsters, the ever-growing number of impossibly perky magical heroes, they seem to find him no matter how hard he tries to hide.

he considers ignoring it. someone else will deal with it. it’s not his problem. he has job to do here, scrubbing snot off of joysticks and squeejee-ing sticky colorful handprints off of the windows, kicking old machines until they work again and showing customers how the new machines work. he has no time for being a magical hero, and no one’s paying him for it.