I could probably put Haddaway lyrics here
WHO: Terra Branford and Keith Anyan
WHERE: The City! Somewhere.
WHEN: Today
WARNINGS: Schizophrenic genre switches and mood swings, magic gone awry, hideous hideous hideous.
WHAT: Everything is broken forever. By which I mean human souls are reclaimed, a chance encounter turns this into a bad soap opera, more hideous.
WORDS: yes
If Terra were to be perfectly honest with herself, machines running amok and attacking suddenly from street corners reminded her of home. Sure, ravenous dogs and enemy tanks and similar foul monsters didn't tend to roam around the city limits that she saw, nor ordinarily lurk around corners, but it was more familiar than having to find friends to fight for the experience. And machines, she found, weren't even that difficult a foe to best. Their magic resistance was next to nothing, and regardless they tended to be pretty fragile when exposed to extreme heat, or extreme cold, or electrocuted to the point of shorting out.
It was a nice distraction. But like all distractions, it didn't last as long as she liked. Whether whatever had caused things to go crazy had ceased entirely, or had just retreated to other parts of the City, Terra didn't know. What she did know was that staying cooped up indoors wasn't going to do her any good, and would provide her with no answers. No answers about herself, what she was or wasn't capable of, or what to do with the ring on her hand that alternately filled her with hope and dread.
And so: Terra wandered with little care for where she went or who she met, hoping for answers to the questions she would never cease asking.
... And to maybe blow up a couple more soda machines with lightning. That too.
WHERE: The City! Somewhere.
WHEN: Today
WARNINGS: Schizophrenic genre switches and mood swings, magic gone awry, hideous hideous hideous.
WHAT: Everything is broken forever. By which I mean human souls are reclaimed, a chance encounter turns this into a bad soap opera, more hideous.
WORDS: yes
If Terra were to be perfectly honest with herself, machines running amok and attacking suddenly from street corners reminded her of home. Sure, ravenous dogs and enemy tanks and similar foul monsters didn't tend to roam around the city limits that she saw, nor ordinarily lurk around corners, but it was more familiar than having to find friends to fight for the experience. And machines, she found, weren't even that difficult a foe to best. Their magic resistance was next to nothing, and regardless they tended to be pretty fragile when exposed to extreme heat, or extreme cold, or electrocuted to the point of shorting out.
It was a nice distraction. But like all distractions, it didn't last as long as she liked. Whether whatever had caused things to go crazy had ceased entirely, or had just retreated to other parts of the City, Terra didn't know. What she did know was that staying cooped up indoors wasn't going to do her any good, and would provide her with no answers. No answers about herself, what she was or wasn't capable of, or what to do with the ring on her hand that alternately filled her with hope and dread.
And so: Terra wandered with little care for where she went or who she met, hoping for answers to the questions she would never cease asking.
... And to maybe blow up a couple more soda machines with lightning. That too.