(no subject)
Tak's claw shook from the effort, but the hole in the stone wall slowly knitted itself back together. It'd been slow going in rebuilding Mewtwo's Place; Her long lack of psychic ability left her with the power of a novice and endurance to match, and she had to rest often. She breaks the contact and pieces of mortar fall bouncing to the ground again.
"Mimi. Start up some fried squidnoodles in the kitchen. I'm going to NEED it after I'm through with this." She said sidelong to her cat-disguised SIR unit. The robot eyed her with catlike affront that Tak would dare make her work, but then turned and obediently sped off in a black streak.
Mewtwo was back. Sort of. He'd manifested himself as pure psychic energy because not even death could take something as powerful as him, it seemed. He was a towering, vaporous column of stuff when he could focus... and when he couldn't he was so disperse that he could literally be everywhere. Dilute, invisible, but tactile. She could feel him. It was like hearing the echoing voice of a dead lover in an empty house, just as elusive and just as insistent on its presence. And because of it she'd been spending the past few weeks with a permanent lump in her throat that she couldn't swallow. The same kind one gets when they're on the verge of tears.
She snarled, and reestablished her force on the wall. The broken stones softened and collected one by one like globules of water (This was the only place in the Multiverse where she had that kind of power) and lifted the mess onto the wall, laboriously forming it flat with a wince. A lot of good dwelling on it was going to do! Even the most concern the Mewtwo-entity had shown was a fleeting, detached curiosity that didn't hold the validating sting of concern at all.
So what good would feeling sorry for herself do?
"SLARKITALL, Mimi! Where are those squidnoodles?!"
"Mimi. Start up some fried squidnoodles in the kitchen. I'm going to NEED it after I'm through with this." She said sidelong to her cat-disguised SIR unit. The robot eyed her with catlike affront that Tak would dare make her work, but then turned and obediently sped off in a black streak.
Mewtwo was back. Sort of. He'd manifested himself as pure psychic energy because not even death could take something as powerful as him, it seemed. He was a towering, vaporous column of stuff when he could focus... and when he couldn't he was so disperse that he could literally be everywhere. Dilute, invisible, but tactile. She could feel him. It was like hearing the echoing voice of a dead lover in an empty house, just as elusive and just as insistent on its presence. And because of it she'd been spending the past few weeks with a permanent lump in her throat that she couldn't swallow. The same kind one gets when they're on the verge of tears.
She snarled, and reestablished her force on the wall. The broken stones softened and collected one by one like globules of water (This was the only place in the Multiverse where she had that kind of power) and lifted the mess onto the wall, laboriously forming it flat with a wince. A lot of good dwelling on it was going to do! Even the most concern the Mewtwo-entity had shown was a fleeting, detached curiosity that didn't hold the validating sting of concern at all.
So what good would feeling sorry for herself do?
"SLARKITALL, Mimi! Where are those squidnoodles?!"