[OPEN] only god can see what i've become.

[killtime]

⬤ Andy @ the CR Meme ⬤
⬤ Permissions Post ⬤

Who ⬤ Andromache of Scythia (now of Enma) & YOU!
What ⬤ The bastard woman drinks and brawls her way through May substories
When ⬤ Throughout the month of May
Where ⬤ A bar, a backlot, and a bloody arena
Content Warnings ⬤ Profanity, violence, substance use, sex, etc. To be updated as needed!



A | MOON MEDICINE / SUBSTORY #1

[ This might be the most alive she's felt since arriving in hell. Whatever the fuck was in that medicinal mochi — it's like being high on cocaine and bloodlust at the same time. It feeds into that part of her that has always loved a fight. That up-close and personal shit where you can practically smell your opponent's breath. That's what she was raised on, seven thousand years ago on the Eurasian steppe — heir of the warrior-queen, bare and bloody on the battlefield, her mother's axe in her right hand.

No axe now. No battlefield either. Just the dirty alley out behind some dive bar. But that look in her eye is the same now as it was back then, wild and bright as she slams her fist into the unrecognizable pulp that was formerly the face of the yokai who had gotten fresh with her inside. Her knuckles are split open, but she doesn't seem to notice. Tunnel vision, everything else utterly irrelevant while her opponent is still standing — and he is, just barely. Just enough to take another clumsy swing at her, a move so obvious and slow that, in her violent fervor, she barks out a mean laugh, teeth bared. Bracing herself, she lets gravity do most of the work as she catches her victim by the clothes and flings him out of the alley towards street —

Right into anyone unfortunate enough to be passing by. ]

B | VEND ME A DREAM / SUBSTORY #2

[ Normally, on a day like this, Andy would have found some way to drink herself into oblivion by now. But she's spent most of her time in hell hungover, and somewhere between the constant headaches and violent nausea, she figured her newly mortal body was probably begging her for a break from the bottle. But being both idle and sober lends itself too readily towards her tendency to wallow uselessly in her own misery, so when the shirime approaches her with its winking butthole and a request for item A5, well...

Fuck it. It's not as if she has anything better to do.

That's how she winds up in that backlot, leaning up against a porno vending machine with a dwindling cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth as she flips through Juicy Peaches. The look on her face is one of stoic apathy, but either she's bored or the asses within are just that compelling, because she's still turning pages. This page in particular has her head turning slightly one way, then the other as she considers it. Out loud, to nobody in particular: ]

...That's a fucking fish.

[ Given the context, she might mean that literally. Only one way to find out. ]

C | BRUISED & BLOODY / SHUTEN TERRITORY ARENA

[ She'd been beating up people for free in bars this whole time, so it seemed only practical to at least get paid for that shit. The booze and cigarettes don't pay for themselves — and gods forbid that Andy hold a regular nine-to-five. She'd rather have her bones broken. Besides, she makes for a good underdog bet. Compared to some of the monstrous yokai that have stood opposite her in the ring, Andy looks decidedly ordinary. A woman who is neither particularly tall or strong. Nothing to betray the centuries she's spent mastering different ways of using her body to cause others pain. Except maybe that certain look in her eye. Something sharp. Something a little mean.

On one of the nights that she fights, she might find herself facing off against another Lost Soul in her next match. Or maybe afterward, with her left arm hanging loosely from its socket, she might be looking for someone to lend her hand — hopefully someone who isn't too squeamish to shove a shoulder back in. Otherwise, after the fighting is done, she makes a habit of smoking a cigarette right outside the arena, usually more interested in indulging that bad habit than patching herself up. ]

Comments

[medicative]

[a girl could forget she's at work, being kissed like this. anchored by Andromache's hands on her arms, kissed so sweetly, different from the first time but just as good. oh it's complicated, her heart is a tangle of things and she'll need to be frank and honest about certain things. but right now, she just wants to enjoy this, what had been stolen from her with duty and aid, and she's kissing Andromache back and leaning in closer. there's not a trace of being sorry in her at all.]

[killtime]

[ There's probably a lot of things they could and should talk about. Things that Andy only knows the surface of — things that she's glimpsed simply by being peripheral to it all. But Emily's kissing her back, and Andy doesn't have the sense or self-control to pull away before she has to. Instead, she lifts one hand to cup the line of Emily's jaw, tilting her face so that she can kiss her harder, deeper — letting slip a little hint of the hunger that was interrupted the night Emily couldn't sleep. ]

[medicative]

[it's not the same force that would have left her weightless, and good thing too, or she would have needed to excuse herself. a taste, not the full weight of it - just enough to get lost in for a fleeting moment, and make her wish she was in her own apartment with the door securely locked. but there's at least this, and when she pulls back it's not for air as much as it is wanting to make sure she's not utterly unbalanced for the next hour. still, she stays close, barely moving away, before a smile cracks across her lips again.]

[killtime]

[ It's thoughtless and automatic, the way she leans forward to close that small space that opens up between them, her mouth instinctively chasing Emily's — then stalling a hair's breadth away when she sees that little smile. This is probably dangerous, right? Not the situation itself — even with the risk of being seen — but the fact that this woman can stop Andy in her tracks with just a smile. Just a word. Just by saying her name.

Fuck.

But she still doesn't want to pull away.

It's an absent murmur when Andy finally speaks. ]

Don't you have patients, Doctor?

[medicative]

I'm trying very hard to not think about the fact that they could appear at any moment.

[a soap bubble of a moment, to be popped the moment it's touched. but she'd have to pull away to really acknowledge that, and she doesn't wish to. not yet.]

[killtime]

[ Wryly: ]

That’s a little reckless of you, Em.

[ But she must not mind that, because she isn’t pulling away either, instead letting her hands drift from Emily’s arms down to settle on the curve of her waist. ]

Does that mean you want me to kiss you again?

[medicative]

...Yes. But I should be more conscientious of my surroundings.

[she says that, and yet lays her hand on Andy's arm, making no move to back away.]

I should tell you to go. You'll drive me to distraction.

[killtime]

[ She should probably tell her to go. But she doesn't. And Andy doesn't mind being a distraction as much as she should.

There's a gleam in her eye that's akin to mischief when her hands tighten around Emily's waist, hefting her up against Andy for the brief moment it takes to hoist her on top of the nearby cabinet. It makes the vase of wildflowers teeter precariously, but Andy's more concerned with pressing in close, her palms warm on Emily's knees as she leans in to kiss her again. ]

[medicative]

[Andromache can never figure out how that unbalances her, or she'll never have a moment of peace again. instead, she kisses her, hands coming up to sink into her hair, eyes closing to lose herself with it. oh, if they were somewhere else, she'd turn her phone off, and let them have time to themselves, but at least they have this.

until, of course. someone knocks on the door, and Emily pulls back, instantly flaming up scarlet.

just one of the other employees asking if she could assist later with a few tests.]

Y-yes, of course. Later we can do that. Of course.

[she looks very much like she's just been caught, and her heart races for it.]

[killtime]

[ It probably says something about her, how she's a little mean — the fact that seeing Emily flustered is both endearing and amusing to her at once. She could be helpful. She could pull away, maybe help put the good doctor back into presentable order. But instead, this bastard of a woman only gives the closed door a sidelong look, the corner of her mouth quirked upward wryly as she slides her hands up ever so slightly from Emily's knees, giving her thighs a slight squeeze. ]

[medicative]

Please, don't do that.

[don't, if she's to survive this moment. her voice is a whisper, to keep anything out of earshot. if she was more irritated instead of high alert, she would have lightly smacked Andy's hands away - as it is, she has to figure out how to put herself back together and not look like she was on her way to being kissed into a daze. it's hard, with Andy so close, it truly is.]

[killtime]

[ She honestly might have been a little entertained to have her hands smacked away - but she seems to take Emily’s meaning, lifting her hands when she’s chided and putting them up in an appeasing gesture as she steps back. Her voice is a low, wry murmur when she answers with familiar words: ]

Duty calls again, Doctor.