(no subject)
Who: Rita, Simmons
When: Night, shortly after this thread. Backdated to Friday.
Where: Streets of Mayfield
Warnings: Death, violence.
What: Karma's a bitch.
There was no blood, no cry for help, but Rita still felt like a murderer. She'd dropped the knife some time ago, personal safety disregarded in the face of self-disgust. Under normal circumstances she would have chided herself for such carelessness, but her typically brilliant mind was just a wee bit unhinged tonight.
That animal, or toy, or whatever he was- had been sentient. She couldn't deny that. He'd pleaded for his life, and Rita had taken it as carelessly as, as... well, as breaking a blastia. She was no better than Alexei, now.
I had to! she raged, fingers clenching into fists. I couldn't be expected to sacrifice my own life for a damn stuffed animal, even if it could talk! I have a world to save! It was this town's fault, not mine! It... I didn't...
Estelle was nowhere to be found, and for all Rita knew Judith was probably stalking her right this minute. Hell, even the half-pint would've been welcome company at this point. The mage needed someone to talk to, someone to tell her everything was okay.
But Mayfield was quiet at night, too quiet for Rita to even pretend that she wasn't alone.
Sometimes being a genius mage wasn't enough. With a heavy sigh, Rita sat down on the curb and buried her face in her arms, refusing to cry. She wanted her friends, she wanted to undo the past day, but more than anything, she just wanted to go home.