#pigeonmagic

Though her hectic lifestyle had never really left room to properly indulge in its festivities, Halloween was possibly the greatest themed holiday for a horror junkie like herself. Its approaching celebrations bringing the promise of fully endorsed mischief to sink her teeth into -- a welcome relief from the endless housewifey tedium to which she was currently bound. The prospect of ingesting her own body weight in candy and marathoning the sickest movies she could get her hands on had Revy reeling in crazed excitement. What better way to jump start the spree then, than luring an unsuspecting husband into what sounded like it could be one of the most hilarious pranks ever?

The plan would probably be misconstrued by most as an act of spite, but when it came to Revy -- this was just a skewed demonstration of comradeship. Luca was one of the good guys and she wanted to reward that by frightening the ever living shit out of him.

That was the whole point of Halloween, right?

Sprawled across their couch in reverse position, eyes glossed over the pages of some trashy magazine awaiting her victim to make an appearance. His footsteps could already be heard shuffling down the hallway and once he'd arrived into the lounging area, he'd find his wife, head dangling over the seat's edge staring directly at him.

"Hey, Luca!"

Her mouth turns down, lips pressed tight together, hands bunched up in little fists at her sides. Her eyes narrow, staring up at the box that's just out of reach.... She'd tried multiple times too and each time her fingers barely missed the cardboard sides of cereal.

But she tries again anyway. Standing on her tipiest tiptoes, Mary's hand stretches out as she leans toward one side, hoping, hoping that maybe this time she might be able to reach it this time. Eyes close tight and she holds her breath. Please. Please. Please!!

No luck. She fall back defeated. A pout sets in. What is she going to do now? The thought of asking a worker to help her makes her dizzy and in the end, she decides against it -- at least until all other facets are exhausted.

With her face set, she grabs a hold of a shelf with both hands and places a foot on another. With a prayer on her lips, she pulls herself up (just barely), her arms and legs shaking. A breath and she reaches out a trembling hand and grabs the box....but at the same time her trembles send a bunch of boxes tumbling off the shelf on both sides.

"Ahh!!!" She glances down at the mess she's just created and with that one glance she realizes just how far up she is.....Her hand drops the box and clings onto the shelf, shaking.

He was gonna kill a certain alchemist. With the most ugly top hat ever and possibile put the guy through about 666 ways of torture. That bird man better watch out.

to: mahou shounenfrom: kaito

"Fuckin'aye"

Revy awoke with the same, debilitating throb that greeted her most mornings. A dull ache she'd grown accustomed to over time, but didn't hurt like any less of a bitch all the same. With a series of pained groans and lagged strides, she just barely managed to drag herself to the bathroom. Not bothering to slip into her denim shorts en route due to having every intention of returning to the mattress once she'd splashed a cool stream of water across her visage.

Blurry vision fixed into looking glass mounted on the wall, she reached out to turn the cold water tap on, mouth stretching open in release of a loud yawn. That's when she saw it first -- a small symbol, inked into the fleshy surface of her tongue.

"No fuuuucking way??"

Suspecting this to be a possible hallucination caused by the residual booze lingering in her system, Revy leaned in closer towards the reflective glass, tongue poking out of her mouth for a clearer view. Nope, it was definitely there -- clear as day. What the Hell had she done last night? Only one person could answer that question at present.

"LUCAAAAA!?" Gripped by a mild frenzy, she catapulted out of the bathroom in frantic search of her unfortunate husband, who'd probably witnessed what kind of state she'd returned in post work shift.

"LLUUUCAAAA-- Fuck there you are, LOOK!" Discovering said husband hard at work in the kitchen (of course, he's in the kitchen) she half bounded, half crawled over to him - mouth wide open for further inspecting with her tongue currently being yanked out between thumb and forefinger.

To: LucaFrom: Mary!!

SENT TO: Luca.SENT FROM: Makoto Tachibana.SUBJECT: excuse me.

7. How does your character perceive themselves? Positive? Negative? Neutral?

Revy doesn’t generally like to perceive herself at all, hence her standard objection to partake in any self analysis which speaks for itself, really. She knows she’s not a good person and is at the same time conscious of not being specifically evil either. She's hyper aware of her strengths and weaknesses alike, she knows the moral code but chooses to ignore it because no one's had the decency to apply it to her so why return the favour? On the whole, she doesn't too many positive traits to reflect upon. Such is life.

23. *shoots you down* Do they prefer romance or affection? What is the quickest way to your character’s heart?

Neither! It’s suggested/ heavily implied that Revy suffers from reactive attachment disorder, spurring her to very violently and aggressively counter all notions or gestures of romance, love, affection directed at her regardless of whether she reciprocates those feelings or not (which she persistently outright denies, despite frequent prompting from others Eda).

Therefore, the quickest way to her heart (if such a route exists) is with a shittonne of patience, perseverance and quite frankly, a bit of a masochist streak to go with it! They'd have to be an embodiment of the knight in shining armour she fails to realise she needs/wants. Because at the end of the day, though she’ll solidly refuse to admit it even to herself, Revy doesn't want to be where she's at but is also incapable of 'saving' herself. So, whoever can get her out of the pit…..well, therein lies the answer.

A prayer circle for you, pigeon husband.

28. Are they afraid of death? Do they have any regrets?