the plague ✖ (angelika & frankenstein)
"You must train to be a god."
The idea was laughable to say the least, yet the scientist couldn't laugh at these new circumstances. Her clones, her children, all of her work was all left behind. The modified, enhanced body that she had bestowed upon herself had been replaced with her former body that had only a small portion of the strength as the other.
Despite feeling pangs of vexation, she recognized that there was nothing that she could do about it; how thankful she was to still have her intelligence that would allow her to start anew. Angelika had no doubts that while she was placed a few steps back, she would make sure that her research would continue and that she would only meet success that would surpass any past successes. She would create something that would rival a god, consume them, and then surpass them; it was as simple as that.
Angelika managed to gather basic necessities: scrap metal, syringes, scalpels, and the like. Luckily those from the 'Supreme Body' were incredibly submissive; she merely had to tell the owners of a small business that sold metal trinkets that she wished to take over their business and they happily complied. Twelve gloved fingers cradled the tools that she had acquired as she entered the establishment. She couldn't care less about the first floor. She only cared about the fact that this place had a basement that was filled with spare metal parts, a few tables, and materials used to weld said metal. This area had potential to be turned into her sanctuary.
With the utmost grace, she neatly placed her tools on one metal table neatly. Using the white cloth that had been surrounding these tools, she threw it over one of cold, metal tables. Red lips curled into a smirk as she imagined all of her new possibilities; her hard work would surely pay off. Her index finger slid over one of the scalpels, placing it within her grasp as she remained in her daze. However, the bell that hung over the front entrance interrupted her daydreams; perhaps they wouldn't even enter the dim basement that she was currently trying to improve.
She placed her scalpel on the table, but didn't bother to disguise her work area to look like something less abnormal. Despite a sinister aura, she'd like to think that she was fully capable of using toxic words to reason with others. The door knob twisted slowly as the woman with platinum tresses maintained her crimson smirk, surrounded by the foundation of her future work space. However, it seemed as though cold hues were only met with ones that nearly matched hers.
"Ah, I'm sorry to inform you that this place is under new ownership; it's closed permanently, actually! Although, something tells me that you're not looking for cheap metal trinkets to purchase."
