#scratch singlehandedly saving idw verse from the metal virus. you're WELCOME --

[wisponed]

did you really think this is the right thing to do ?

SEND ME MEMES !

"are we having a discussion about morality or are you just trying to get in my way?" scratch doesn't look to shadow as she cleans her wispon with an oil rag, going over the same spot across the wisp port for the third time. it's not that shadow intimidates her, more that she thinks his look might force her to reconsider, reflect, recontextualize, think.

scratch is so tired of thinking.

she can't remember the last time her body hasn't felt like a taut wire, tension making her feel like something brittle. hit it once it won't break. twice? maybe it'll survive, fault lines holding together like a kind of belated prayer. three times...?

if she's going to break in front of someone, it certainly won't be shadow.

the ivory lightning wisp swoops over to her, hovering at her elbow, its glare expectant. she's gotten used to calling it blitz, a name it seems to accept if not outright enjoy. blitz isn't hers, not a pet to be toted around or a simple weapon to use, but it is the closest thing she has to a friend she has. scratch may not have a fancy miles electric to translate the language, but she and blitz have been working together long enough to understand one another. the robotnik base is clear. time to head inside.

scratch tucks the rag into the back pocket of her pants, double checking the grappling line on her wispon. when she finally does look up to shadow, yellow eyes meeting red, her gaze is hard. blitz bobs up to float near her shoulder, staring shadow down in tandem. even if blitz doesn't condone scratch's hunger for revenge, she knows she can count on it to back her up in any argument.

"you gonna force me into a socratic, or can i get my night started?"