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[b]“I’m home.”[/b]

No, she wasn’t.

A small suite with a living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom wasn’t a home. It was just a temporary abode for Moe to crash in. Discarding her raincoat, she shook the water off it outside, before hanging it on a coatrack. Spare droplets still dripped down onto the linoleum floor, but the pink-haired girl didn’t pay much attention to that. Her barefeet slapped against the wooden boards as she strode over to the refrigerator. Power drinks and ingredients for sandwiches welcomed her, as well as a bag of frozen mandarins.

The girl closed her eyes, imagining how tasty last week’s ramen was, before shaking those delusions away. Food was tasty. She needed to stop dawdling about and learn how to cook for herself. Ramen wasn’t even that hard to make. Just the soup base and then noodles, at the very base.

Still, Moe didn’t feel like trying anything today, and the rain hadn’t let up at all from her trip back home. Twisting open the cap of a fruity power drink, she guzzled down the entire bottle before pulling a few pieces of ham to jam in her mouth. Settling down on her comfy bed, Moe closed her eyes. She’d get fat from this, eating and then sleeping, but…
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…she still had steam to release.

Stepping into the other side of the world, where datastreams were made visible and everything was controlled by ones and zeroes, Mauve Night stared up at the dark skies, feeling the abnormal sensation of simulated wind. The Faded City was as gloomy and cyberpunk-esque as ever, and as she closed her eyes, she could hear scraps of combat throughout the expansive landscape. Her buddies from the Reds had been rather needy recently, always wanting to drag her along for Dissolution-hunting missions like a bunch of White wannabes, and thus, she found herself looking at the neon lights of the Faded Spires more often.

Goddamn weaklings. If they wanted to git gud and crack open masked heads, they should be fighting people, not monsters.

Another unpleasant memory replayed in her head, and the red-eyed Avatar’s grip tightened. There was combat somewhere, and she was particularly interested in stress relief.

Time to go a-hunting.