[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/gUVwnDw.png[/img][/center]
[right][color=FF75E3]Location:[/color] Unknown
[color=FF75E3]Vibes: [url=https://youtu.be/SFGvmrJ5rjM]Sad song much sad.[/url][/color]
[color=FF75E3]Interactions:[/color] Bongo[/right]

[hr]

Escape. 

Escape was detrimental.

Stagnation was a killer. Every second she wasted was another second gifted to Samael. She knew this, she had made a promise to herself. 

So why couldn't she [i]move[/i]?

Was it the air here? So much thicker, it tasted dirty. Tainted. Like it needed to be run through a filter. Breathing it in was like snorting paste. And yet, it was still more refreshing than the air of the battlefield. The scent of blood, decay, all amplified by the rain. She shook it away, forcing back the thought, the hideous realization that she had been slipping around in the gore left behind by her fellow hoods. That their bits and pieces, their blood, was stuck to her skin. 

It hadn't bothered her when the blood belonged to her Father, though, had it? 

No, no, [i][b]no[/b][/i]. Not her father, not again. He was just a stain, a bloodied stain burned to ash and spread in the nearest ditch. She had made sure of it, he would not be coming back.

Only in her nightmares. 

She [i]wanted[/i] to move. She [i]needed[/i] a drink. 

Fingers, groping at her side, the movement was so fluid. Instinctual. There was nothing there, her flask was gone.

Teeth, grinding together slowly. A heaving breath, hands digging through hair. A low, garbled whine. She must've looked mad, doubling over just enough for a throbbing pain to spike in her side. Straightening, she gripped the air, dragging it down to her thighs in a fit. 

The worst part? She wasn't present for it, she was only doing it. Going through the motions. She just needed to move! If she moved, she could find Samael. If she moved, she could get a drink. 

Choppy breaths, blazing eyes. She forced a step forward. And another, another after that. She took methodical steps, until finally she broke into a casual stride. She could act normal. She had to act normal. Samael was probably watching her, laughing. Who wouldn't be amused by a woman going through a breakdown?

Her steps lead her to a gate, a scissor gate that was gleaming orange beneath the glow of two street lamps. Almost without thought, Eliza dug into her knapsack. She retrieved a charm, one of the last she had. Peered down at it, turning it over in her hand. 

With a maniacal cry, she launched it at the gate, straight at the lock that was binding the two lengths of folding metal. In midair, the charm shifted, becoming a large chunk of earth. 

The gate broke, and with it went a solid portion of Eliza's anger. Breaking things felt good. 

But did it really? [color=FF75E3][i]Yes.[/i][/color]

It felt good, in the same way breaking her father had felt good. Even in the moments after, until Colin found her, and she felt guilty. But everyone needed a guilty pleasure, right?

Wrong. Right? She didn't know anymore. She just needed to walk. 

And so she walked, down the grainy, albeit smooth stretch of outdoor flooring. She walked until she heard the chime of a bell, and pressed herself flat against the wall of the nearest building. One of the ones that stretched into the sky. One of the ones that was covered in windows, windows filled with lights.

She waited, breath catching in her throat, as the sound of the bell came closer. And closer. Then stopped, then started again. Then stopped.

Goddess, the bell was teasing her. 

Finally, she broke away from the wall, peering around the corner. The sight that filled her eyes left her face scrunched with surprise. 

A dog. Not of any breed that she had ever seen before, but a dog nonetheless. It was small, covered in tufts of white fur from head to toe. The fur looked so soft. Around its neck was a bell, tied to it by a handkerchief. It laid eyes upon her as well, and for a moment, Eliza crumpled under the weight of desire. 

She wanted to pet the dog.

Crouching down, the dog immediately raced forward, prancing with paws lifting up in exaggerated motions. She allowed it to sniff her hand, a hoarse giggle escaping her as it licked her palm.

Scooping the small creature up into her arms, Eliza slouched against a building, marveling at the puppy. She had never met one so friendly. She stood there for a time, stroking the creature's fur and letting it writhe in her hands excitedly. 

She was almost too enamored to catch the light. The clicking and whistling, the calling of a name. [i]Bongo[/i]. The dog seemed to writhe more furiously at the sound. Eliza considered rushing to the other side of the building, but by the time she moved it was too late.

A beam of light hit the side of her face, and she froze. She glanced to her side, catching the eye of a relieved man in a similar outfit to her own. 

[color=3f99dd]"Oh, thank fuck, you found my dog!"[/color]