#diissect

azusa is a proud woman --- anyone who ever gave her a glance over could see that in the way she carried herself. the smooth way her long legs gilded her, heels clicking with her posture perfect & a look of complete indifference resting upon her lips.

however that pride carried her to great lengths to keep others at bay when...say she was injured. 

as she was now.

& so she made her way to what was now stein’s office...or laboratory. whichever he preferred to address it. under her suit there was a battle wound she had been suppressing admitting to anyone she had --- it was far more than what she was suited to care for herself. & with what she was expected to do--- this wasn’t a time she wanted others to think she was weak...& so she kept her pride up...

until she closed that door & promptly unbuttoned her sleek black jacket, revealing the decorated dress shirt under that from the side of her rib, a slanted cut bled to just about her hip. her blood was staining the white & how she had been able to act so casual while the pain radiated from her injury was only expected from a deathscythe such as azusa.

                         ‘ there’s no on around to play with me today. ‘

                 the CAT whines, chin pressed into her palm as she SIGHS before amber gaze flicks to the man beside her. he’s friends with mister death scythe and a teacher to maka, soul and the others. maybe he would quell her BOREDOM. 

arm slides into jacket coat as he half turned towards his accuser. another night out, stalled by the same old rhetoric. ‘ use people?! ‘ now turning fully towards the patched up doctor, blue eyes narrow; anger color his cheeks. 

‘ what i do with those women is make them happy. we enjoy a night out and they get what they want. what’s the problem? i don’t use anyone. they know what i’m about .. they all know. ‘ but not ALL. not HER. not his ex-wife. with a scowl he turned away once more. ‘ you of all people don’t get to judge me, FRANKEN. you who hasn’t even had a relationship before. ‘ with an angry adjustment of his tie he opened the door to leave the laboratory where he spent nearly all of his time now. 

Oh god help us.

           It was in his inert nature to question; to think. To ponder upon such things was as much ingrained in him as the very marrow of his bones– a man of  s c i e n c e  as he was, he had been born with the instinct to discover and to challenge, to question, and to think on such things. And with hours upon days upon weeks alone in a stale, sterile laboratory, there was little else to do besides experiment and think, think, think.

           ❝…Right and wrong are determined solely                         by those in power. They’re just words;                         labels, artificial constructs that provide                         an illusion of safety and morality– but                         in truth, there are no such things.❞

      witches were always on the wrong side, and it was not always death’s fault that they were. humans feared the unknown and they feared power and witches represented both. it was because of this that ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, ‘good’ and ‘bad’ never held the same same meaning to eruka as it did to others; if she could be seen as bad for doing nothing, then what was good and what was not was up to the person and not objective truth.