‘[i][color=forestgreen]Enderall City Corpse. It’s not just a name for show. This rotten city, festering from wounds inflicted by careless apocalypse. This crumbling city, decaying away minute by minute, moment by moment. This goddamned city, my city. She is beautiful. This cit -- [/color][/i]’

“[i]Excuse me, madame. If I could -- [/i]” An enormous bang shattered the silence, as a six-shot revolver was fired at the skull of an “intruding” firgure; the head of the Skeleton Butler was blasted off, and ricocheted around the room. Chuunitrixx holstered the Engraved Revolver Ariamis, as she leaned against a destroyed window frame; forlornly looking out into the city that was, as an impeccably dresser body chased its head down.

‘[i][color=forestgreen]This city. Age worn well into her design. Fractures like wrinkles, betray her truth. Sewers run with stagnant water, like blood running fat with time. Streets run grey and overtaken by moss, like -- [/color][/i]’

“[i]Honestly, madame. If you could only -- [/i]” Another tremendous explosion. Chuunitrixx traced the bounces with her eyes, as she bit into a HUGE sandwich. Looking down, she noticed that Ariamas was empty, but that was fine, as the Skeleton Butler wasn’t moving yet. Looking back to the city, she sighed, before taking a HUGE chomp of her sandwich.

‘[i][color=forestgreen]She speaks to me, my city. An old voice; mature, complete. Her husk, metaphysical, shakes me to the core. I know her; every wrinkle; every line; every corner. I know her. My city. My -- [/color][/i]’

“[i]Madame, it would be just a moment -- [/i]”

[i]Out of [color=forestgreen]bullets.[/color][/i]

[i][b]Out [color=forestgreen]of patience.[/color][/b][/i]

[i][b][u][color=forestgreen]Out of sanity.[/color][/u][/b][/i]

“[b][color=forestgreen]WHAT!? WHAT!? WHAT CAN YOU NEED FROM ME!? A LADY CAN’T MONOLOGUE IN PEACE ANY MORE!? WHY DO YOU BOTHER ME!? DO YOU HATE ME!? DO YOU WISH ME DEAD FROM ANNOYANCE!? LEAVE ME BEEEEE~![/color][/b]” Chuunitrix screeched at the top of her lungs, shockingly well with a mouthful of big sandwich; throttling the Skeleton Butler.

As composed as ever, for he was one hell of a boney butler, the skeletal man, simply retorted, “[i]Lord Rodias wishes to see you. Alongside the others -- [/i]”

Chuunitrix gasped, sandwich dropping out her mouth, launching into the elevator that would take her straight to the top. “[b][color=forestgreen]I’M COMING, BESTIE![/color][/b]” she shouted, as she rode out of her Chapter, a trial of noxious green smoke filling the elevator cart.
[hr]
As she entered, she took notice of her Lord and Bestie, Rodias. Half of her wanted to bow in supreme reverence ; the other half wanted to plunge into his lap, and stay there forever. However, neither half could be indulged, as she scurried up to the throne, and opened her jacket. From it, she dropped several small cubes that formed into much large sentry turrets that surrounded the thrones; two of which, she threw her Silver Knight Anor and Black Knight Londo onto, which replicated the guns on them all.

“[color=forestgreen]Activate Defense Protocol: Encirclement,[/color]” Chuunitrixx says, as she opened a flip phone; in truth, a grimoire with an expensive cosmetic applied. “[color=forestgreen]Neuro-magical Link: established. Threat Filter: Built. Launching,[/color]” she says, as her honey-gold eyes turned electric-blue.

“[color=forestgreen][b]Chuunitrixx, the Shepherd of Mimics, ready to fire![/b][/color]” she announced, using her original epitet, which was never programmed out of it.

....unfortunately, she would never fire a single round, as Graft entered the room, kneeling before her encirclement (even though, it was to Rodias), followed by Mamoru’s explosive entrance (which almost knocked over a poor turret), then Kaldorna and someone (they both bowed oddly), and lastly by Salem (who neither bowed nor knelt nor exploded into the room, but walked). All Chuunitrixx could do was wait for everyone to gather, while she sat on the arm of The Sable Throne; aiming the Engraved Revolver Ariamis at them with a bored expression and a huff of green smoke.

It wasn’t an act of betrayal, or a request on Rodias’s behalf... Chuunitrixx was just ever bit the overzealous guard dog that her Creator was. For anyone in Bandersnatch, at least, when it was active, Ariamis in your face while Rodias was around was equal to a quaint, “Hello!” from Traptrixx or Chuunitrixx, and the NPC just as big a smoker as the neurotic bundle of stress that was her Creator was, if the half-pack of discarded cigarettes were any indication.