Don&#x27;t get a say, I&#x27;m boss of the one and only me

@crossed-worlds The Aftermath

"....perceptive as always..."

A hand ghosts over the counter, fingertips barely touching it as she instead once more stares from the corner of her gaze at the list. One name in particular always strikes her, yet today it felt so much worse, counting down every second, every minute like it would be her last. She's been in this posistion multiple times, she's always been like a sheep being herded into a corner. She hates the feeling but it's something she can't escape no matter how much she tries. Waking hours or in her darkest dreams. Absent-minded as she's already begin fixing up the package.

"I would imagine the saying 'on pins and needles' might be something you've heard before. Well, that would explain quite a lot here."

Don't think her ungrateful for the jade dragon's hospitality, his unwavering kindness has carved away a lot of her earlier issues, what remained was damage made from years of consisity and growing up with. One thing that she feared would never change, even just seeing him, feeling that tint of an aura. It would always petrify her, make her want to dig her way out of her skin or whatever wall was nearest. Felt like prey to a predator. Each time that man set a foot through that door, she felt like she'd be back there again, unable to breathe from the stress ready to cave her chest in.

crossed-worlds

Two visible ears twitch, listening to the young woman's symphony of being. Fear... unbridled and unrivaled it infected her heart and soul like a parasite. He could smell it sure but he could hear it better than anything. Tense muscles making a sound like stretched rubber straining, heart racing in anticipation to run or fight... Sometimes he enjoyed hearing it in his enemies, knowing when he could strike terror into hearts... but not when it was someone who had earned his care. That was when such sounds awoke the old general in him, the one who had the job of looking after the mountian's young ones... this girl was at least some what immortal no doubt.... but he still knew well her connection to Wukong. Like it or not....was he not still responsible for looking out for her?

He followed her gaze to a paper slip on the wall, he couldn't read it from here but he knew what it was. The pick up orders that Lie kept on hand to know what was needed to be boxed up that day. That meant one of Sunny's visits.....

"Chao..." He started to reach out before thinking better of it and bringing his hand to rest on the counter instead, there if she needed physical comfort and not just emotional. "Ask. I don't mind. What do you need from this old shadow?" He spoke that last part with a small smile for her sake. Hoping that it would help.

If there was one thing possible. She'd have never asked. Never opened her mouth. Wasn't she supposed to be stronger than this. It was so easy to tell Usiku apart from hers, so easily. It wasn't the same to stare at a face that was so completely different than the one she'd always seen. Even still, she still trembles sometimes in his presence. All the same, all the same just because of that hint of an aura they all possessed, that would always trail back to the same thing. They were just different versions.

So when his gaze trails over to the pick up list, not sure if he could see the list. However he seems to understand all the same and turns back to her. Her wearing the most deadpanned expression this side of the planet. Quite frankly she could put some expressions the simians do to shame at times. She is quite sure of that. However...

"I just....I wish he'd try to not appear like...him. He's not? Shouldn't he embrace who he is? You...don't keep them up around me and I just..." She shuts down. That's it. She can't ask him that directly because memories stir of the last time she asked. The sound still echoes in her mind, the way that face had twisted in rage like she'd asked him something almost sacred or dared to utter the other's name. It never sat well with her at all. She hated it. She hated that her mind kept rushing to those scenarios.

"....I don't know what to say to him anymore. What to do."

#crossed worlds

Yeah no she's going back to sleep.

#dash comm tag.#mobile

She could hear the strangled breaths of the shadow simian, as if he was fading. The thought admittedly shocking her out of her tunnel vision of the parasite to gaze back at the other. The shock alone destabilizing her footing, a momentary bit of panic. She may dislike the ebony simian (her own more so than this one) given all the torment she suffered at ones claws, her shoulder still ached with the ghastly wound.

Turning to face him, concern and fear in her eyes as she goes to turn towards him, to run through the barrier and try and help him. (He looks like he's about to die) she can't let that happen. Blood splatters. Her outfit rips as the claw rakes across her shoulder. The sickly wound of a pitch obsidian black surrounded by purple, a familliar claw shaped mark that begins to bleed from the fresh cut. Her body falling forward-

Only for it to vanish in a puff of golden smoke and a haunting war cry that can roughly be translated to 'Let Wukong Testify For Me!' before the entire weight of the staff slams down on the infected golden simian, stabbing through his throat and angled to run down into his chest where it ignites, burning flesh, muscle and even down to segments of bone as she plunges it, wedging it deep and barely getting both spots. She targets the thick masses of the stuff, burning at it violently, to give it no chance of escape. She knows she can't get all of it but it's a hasty made strike, not one of perfect precision. Her glamors long gone as fangs are bared in their full entirity. A face mask resembling the essence of a phoenix on her, bright red and orange colors with tints of gold at the edges. Along with a ebony black tail, rather long with segments of golden coloration seeping in at the tip. A claw gripping his hair and yanking his head back as his body collides with the floor hard enough to create a crater like crack. Forcing him to gaze at Macaque.

"Look at him! Look at what you've done Father."

The word spat out like venom, she won't hide her blood ties but she hardly thinks it applies to this one. She is more so using it to dive deep, to shock his brain into thinking, to break free from the trap of the entity. She's seen him peeking out, perhaps this will push it. "He's dying. This thing is taking him over. It's taken you because you can stop it. He's dying again."

"Because of you."

Horror curled inside him and made his head snap up. His gaze was unfocused, not really seeing her. But there was terror in his voice. “KID!!” He cried, trying to push himself. His arm gave out under him finally, sending him to the ground with a solid thump. He fell onto his side, the trinket falling out of his scarf. He curled up slightly, breath rattling in his chest. The glamour beneath may have hidden the extent of the spread, but the smell of disease smothered sandalwood and plums. He felt so heavy, and his limbs didn’t feel like cooperating. He could feel the infection wrap tight around his core…he could feel it spread to his arms and legs.

Fuck, was this it? He couldn’t even lift his head. His ears were unglamoured, the magic focusing solely on covering the sight just under it. Hazy amber eyes faded into purple and black. He stared ahead, struggling to see anything, anything.

✵✵✵✵

Deep inside, Wukong felt the crushing weight of shame again. He had lost. Even smothering the rest of the abilities, he had lost. The parasite won. Those thoughts were cut off by the falling form puffing into dust. Neither he nor the parasite had the time to react to the war cry. There, he was greeted with an agony that reminded him of his time in The Crucible. The fire blazed through him, tearing into the thing clinging to him like a filthy leech. He does not know if the horrible sound that filled his ears was it or his. Perhaps both. He was burned by holy fire and carved from the inside out. Something inside him cracked at the pressure, almost splintering in half. Yet the immortality forced it together again through sheer will, and he felt it break, over and over again as he burned. Above him was an avenging being, a mixture of himself and the shadow that lay dying in the corner. Awe and shock flickered in but it was smothered by the agony again.

Yet, being crushed against the stone was nothing to the searing fire in his chest. He could feel it do its work, burn the thing away. There were still fragments clinging on, struggling to keep their hold on him. Dull pain sparked from his scalp as he was gripped, forced to bear witness to the sight before him. Her words stabbed into him, and he looked. Macaque lay before him as if trying to curl into a ball but he just couldn’t do it. The other seemed to see them, to see her. But the awareness slipped away before his eyes, the ebony simian going lip against the stone. Even from here, he could smell that the infection had taken hold. The other was barely clinging on.

She was right. This was his fault. Even more so because he remembered the feeling of his trapped body sinking its claws into Macaque that fateful night. He struggled to push himself up, just enough. The entity screeched in his head, clinging onto the thin strings left.

Wukong exhaled, a small puff of steam leaving his lips. He was not as he used to be. But…he had to. His magic fanned the dying flames inside him, inside his core. The king slammed his hand against the ground, once, twice. Small flames envelop it, rising from the fur. Before he buried it into his chest and set his core ablaze.

✵✵✵✵

Distantly, Macaque could hear another yell. But he’s too tired to lift his head. He’d seen enough, surely he’s seen enough now? The ground felt cold, and he knew it shouldn’t. Not with the fire blazing feet from him. The kid…he’d seen…he was sure he’d seen it. There was no other way to explain that this kid was theirs. Or at least, another version of theirs…he wanted to laugh.

But what would he be laughing for, again?

There he was. Gazing upon his work (hardly. It was all the infections) and at the shadow simian that was no doubt falling apart as it spread, nothing could hide the smell of decay that the parasite always made. Revolting, perhaps more than showing her true self. Ears ever slightly lowering as her tail ticks irritable, releasing the golden simains hair as he screams from self inflicted wounds, no doubt attempting to burn the rest out of him. All she can do is keep the staff ignited, trap it at that point and listen as the last of it dies before taking the staff away. Allowing this wukong's quick regeneration to heal that horrible wound as she gazes to the other side of the barrier, lips pulled into a thin line.

"....you don't want to die again so why are you letting it win." Atleast she can assume that, speaking with authority in her tone, it's not like she'd hiding her aura that's akin to the king's, perhaps more formidable feeling considering it's calm and composed state instead of rampaging. There's nothing she can do besides pour her energy into trapping the barrier close around the other simian, to trap him for now.

"What an annoyance."

Her soulless gaze settled on the rising figure of the infected simian, this one was fully under its control, though she does pay attention to the main points, his throat and his chest. They clearly were taking advantage of the other being immortal. A dead host wouldn't do them any favors she supposed, given it would just keep falling apart and that would mean wasting resources. Which meant wasting time. Time to spread. Time to grow. This was a parasite in the raw form, dangerous but also not spread far enough to be a true disaster. However, if it's been hunting down Macaque like this then it would mean it's only spread to what's plaguing the other and Wukong. Damn it all. Couldn't it have been something easy for once? Fuck.

Her skin crawls when he speaks, she wants nothing more than to shut it up and that's what she's going to do. It seems slow, if it was fast at anything it would be how it could infect someone. Though given her immortality she's quite sure she'd just become a prison for it, naturally taking evil energy and changing it into something positive. Her whole fighting was a basic jack of all trades with two main split paths she'd taken. A fighting style all her own that she was proud to have. That being said, if she couldn't prevail, she'd sooner die than let anyone control her fate. She'd just have to find a way to do so. While killing the other infected simian would be easier, a part of her screamed bo about that type of thought. They weren't the same and she needed to stop acting like they were. Yet...how could she when she's back here, back in the fray, back stuck fighting him of all people. Her luck was shit.

"Macaque. Tell me what you know about this thing or do you want to face this thing yourself!? Running won't solve shit!" As she says this, quickly moving forward, she barely ducks the swinging attack of the entity, it doesn't seem like it's figured out many if at all any of the simians abilities besides his unholy strength. Which she could match with her own, rearing back as she takes the flaming staff and shoves one end right into its open mouth, intensifying the flames as much as possible. It didn't seem to like fire. Maybe she could use that to her advantage.

The infected king tilted his head, the angle unnatural as he watched her approach. The parasite pulled his arms, a powerful swipe directed toward her. Yet as the end of the staff is shoved into his open maw, there is a screech. It is not exactly his own, more like the thing inside him using his vocal cords to express its own agony. The starburst in his throat moved, traveling down away from the blaze. Wukong is jerked back, hand clutching his throat. He coughed and hacked, the sounds less grating than his voice had been before.

✵✵✵✵

Macauqe pulled his hand away from his mouth, coming away red. He took a wheezing breath, struggling to focus on her words. Right, right. The kid. The monster. Ugh, his head hurt. He shook it, giving himself a harsh slap. That seemed to right his head. He blinked, turning his gaze to her. “...i-infection,” he croaked out the obvious. “Can…pierce skin…how it…” he coughed, doubling over. “How it…infects.” he forced himself to continue. His limbs felt so heavy. “It ca…can rip out…out of host. To attack.” Copper dripped from his lips, falling onto the stone. What else could he give? He didn’t know too much about it. The only other person who knew was fully possessed.

His head lowered, breathing becoming more difficult. Was everything so hazy before? “Run,” he rasped, words starting to slur. “Save urself’, too late.” It was too late for them. The fire seemed to help but what did they have to burn it out? She should just run. She should leave now. Lock them in here. It would be a win if she did, the infection trapped.

✵✵✵✵ Wukong wheezed, fingers digging into his throat. At the moment the parasite was recovering, the king dug his claws in. Tainted blood dripped from the opening wounds. As if sensing what the king was trying to do, the starburst moved up again. The simian’s hand spasmed before falling to his side, straightening. The muscles in his legs bunched before he launched himself at her, that dark thick muck coating his hands. He lashed out, intending to inflict a cut. Something easy for it to slip into.

She could hear the strangled breaths of the shadow simian, as if he was fading. The thought admittedly shocking her out of her tunnel vision of the parasite to gaze back at the other. The shock alone destabilizing her footing, a momentary bit of panic. She may dislike the ebony simian (her own more so than this one) given all the torment she suffered at ones claws, her shoulder still ached with the ghastly wound.

Turning to face him, concern and fear in her eyes as she goes to turn towards him, to run through the barrier and try and help him. (He looks like he's about to die) she can't let that happen. Blood splatters. Her outfit rips as the claw rakes across her shoulder. The sickly wound of a pitch obsidian black surrounded by purple, a familliar claw shaped mark that begins to bleed from the fresh cut. Her body falling forward-

Only for it to vanish in a puff of golden smoke and a haunting war cry that can roughly be translated to 'Let Wukong Testify For Me!' before the entire weight of the staff slams down on the infected golden simian, stabbing through his throat and angled to run down into his chest where it ignites, burning flesh, muscle and even down to segments of bone as she plunges it, wedging it deep and barely getting both spots. She targets the thick masses of the stuff, burning at it violently, to give it no chance of escape. She knows she can't get all of it but it's a hasty made strike, not one of perfect precision. Her glamors long gone as fangs are bared in their full entirity. A face mask resembling the essence of a phoenix on her, bright red and orange colors with tints of gold at the edges. Along with a ebony black tail, rather long with segments of golden coloration seeping in at the tip. A claw gripping his hair and yanking his head back as his body collides with the floor hard enough to create a crater like crack. Forcing him to gaze at Macaque.

"Look at him! Look at what you've done Father."

The word spat out like venom, she won't hide her blood ties but she hardly thinks it applies to this one. She is more so using it to dive deep, to shock his brain into thinking, to break free from the trap of the entity. She's seen him peeking out, perhaps this will push it. "He's dying. This thing is taking him over. It's taken you because you can stop it. He's dying again."

"Because of you."

#ooc #crossed worlds #shadowyspectre #siixkiing #CRACK #IM SORRY BUT THIS JUST HAS ME LAUGHING #IM WHEEZING ABOUT JT

@shadowyspectre 's infected wukong: ah yes a new host

@crossed-worlds & @siixkiing 's ready to throw down behind her with eyes glowing

While she'd never seen Macaque so scared, a part of her relished in his fear. For once she wasn't the one cowering in fear, she alone stood strong and firm while he was the one cowering away. However, his mistake was thinking that she'd be compliant with him. What a fool. Did this monster really just ignore her entire presence. It aims itself at Macaque entirely, as if she didn't exist (which she could use to her advantage) to it at all. That meant her suppression of her aura was working, to appear all but invisible to the magical eye. She's about ready to tear this infected simian apart when a claw snags her. Memories rise forward as she yells, not of panic but pure rage.

She doesn't care that the monster is pursing, or calling Macaque things that frankly she couldn't give judgment on. This wasn't her world. That didn't mean she would succumb to another's whims however. The edges of her fingers find the ebony simians tail and yank as hard as she can, prompting him to stop and only then does she grip at his clothing, hauling him up with ease and throwing him where he wanted to go. Glowing eyes staring at him before turning her attention back to the infection. This disgusting abomination clinging to the very being that had tormented her entire waking hours, had dominated her life and subjected her to things a father should never to their child. The staff radiating enough heat that the stone begins to melt around it.

"You talk too much." Before electricity crackles through the tips of her fingers, the iconic lasers of pure energy coming from her eyes and going straight through the blob of whatever growth, rapidly eviscerated whatever it made contact with as she tilts her head up, more than an attempt to simply eviscerate it. If it's taken over Wukong then she'll do everything she can to kill the immortal. Leave the fighting to the royals. The only one who could kill another royal was a royal right. Suppose that's why she was here, the queen needed to put down the king. Even still, after the area is throughly scorched, only then does she stop. A quick crackle of energy forming a barrier that rapidly cuts off the area around her and past her. Since Macaque was so determined to stay away from it, she'll let him cower behind a shield. "I need him for answers. You can't have him yet."

A yell ripped from him, fire snapping at the base of his tail. He turned, half a mind to claw at the source of his pain. Deep purple snapped through the glamour on his eyes, panic smothered by fury. But he did not have the time to claw into her flesh, being picked up like an unruly cat. He was flung forward, body rolling across the hard floor of the cavern. His shoulder smashed against the rock face. His claws gripped at it, breath coming out as a harsh wheeze. Copper filled his mouth. He must’ve bit his tongue.

The heat made his fur stand up, and he pushed himself up with one hand, groaning through his teeth. His vision was blurry, something he knew wasn’t the result of being thrown. The thing inside his chest twisted, and his next groan could not be smothered by his maw. The hand not holding himself up pressed hard to his chest. He could feel dark lines under the glamour moving, spreading. “Fuck,” he hissed, pressing a hand to his mouth as a cough rattled through him. It sounded wet.

There was the sound of agony, a wordless scream that tore from the entity itself from the fiery blaze. It retreated inside the host, leaving only one wail. Yet, when it stopped…the host rose. The smell of smoke and burning fur and flesh filled the small area. Wukong staggered, movements almost self-aware. But before the king could do anything, he jerked up. Like a puppet on strings, he shifted, movements stiff. The growth sat inside him, black lines spread over his form, mapping out veins. It curled into two dark starbursts of black: one settled in the collum of his throat and the middle of his chest. The simian’s fur was no longer a brilliant golden brown, stained a darker color.

Two golden eyes stared at her, sclera stained black. “𝖫𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾,” it croaked through him. His expression was a blank canvas. “𝖣𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗌. 𝖳𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗒. 𝖣𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀.” She was a danger, so its attention solely focused on her. It would deal with the ebony one later, he did not have much longer anyway. This one would do. She would make a good host, and it could spread easier.

"What an annoyance."

Her soulless gaze settled on the rising figure of the infected simian, this one was fully under its control, though she does pay attention to the main points, his throat and his chest. They clearly were taking advantage of the other being immortal. A dead host wouldn't do them any favors she supposed, given it would just keep falling apart and that would mean wasting resources. Which meant wasting time. Time to spread. Time to grow. This was a parasite in the raw form, dangerous but also not spread far enough to be a true disaster. However, if it's been hunting down Macaque like this then it would mean it's only spread to what's plaguing the other and Wukong. Damn it all. Couldn't it have been something easy for once? Fuck.

Her skin crawls when he speaks, she wants nothing more than to shut it up and that's what she's going to do. It seems slow, if it was fast at anything it would be how it could infect someone. Though given her immortality she's quite sure she'd just become a prison for it, naturally taking evil energy and changing it into something positive. Her whole fighting was a basic jack of all trades with two main split paths she'd taken. A fighting style all her own that she was proud to have. That being said, if she couldn't prevail, she'd sooner die than let anyone control her fate. She'd just have to find a way to do so. While killing the other infected simian would be easier, a part of her screamed bo about that type of thought. They weren't the same and she needed to stop acting like they were. Yet...how could she when she's back here, back in the fray, back stuck fighting him of all people. Her luck was shit.

"Macaque. Tell me what you know about this thing or do you want to face this thing yourself!? Running won't solve shit!" As she says this, quickly moving forward, she barely ducks the swinging attack of the entity, it doesn't seem like it's figured out many if at all any of the simians abilities besides his unholy strength. Which she could match with her own, rearing back as she takes the flaming staff and shoves one end right into its open mouth, intensifying the flames as much as possible. It didn't seem to like fire. Maybe she could use that to her advantage.

#dash comm tag.#mobile #shadowyspectre #CRACK #the sarcasm is real

"Hooray another egotistical parasite that wants to control me."

@shadowyspectre Just Her Luck

She would have taken anyone else to bump into besides Macaque. Not even twelve hours ago this very face had been intent on tearing out her throat, not even five had he been dead alongside the king, not even three hours ago had her world been all but obliterated by the gods wrath. Only she had survived. Only she. Why Buddha had chosen it, some sick second chance? Could he have given a second chance to those who she considered her true guardians. Those she had actually cared about?

Focusing on that doesn't matter. There is something vile here, worse than the Macaque (who's in shit condition and smells like he's rotting) deciding to take the lead. Their earlier confrontation hadn't been pleasant, with him managing to barely talk her down after she'd been quite content on attempting to see if she could spear him through the tree first. Brow twitching as she recalls the entire encounter, now to be stuck in a cavern with him (something following them no less) was grating on her last nerves. Except the sound of something clattering randomly makes her pause (while the other scurried back like a frightened cat) and stare in the direction it came from, years of brutal abuse training have her ready. Or so she thought.

Hardfast disgust rising, the urge to puke what she'd barely eaten for breakfast was an option as the scent of sulfur, rotting flesh and what she can only daresay was the scent of a rejuvenating corpse assaulting her sense of smell. Wanting to quickly get rid of the sense just from how potent it was, she actually does nearly gag when the thing finally shows itself. Disgust worms its way through her until quick acting despair grasps her heart like a claw plunging through her chest.

There's no damn way. That faint bit of an aura, smothered under the repulsive one that this entity was radiating. She grips the staff tighter, this reminds her too much of the abomination she fought in the depths of the sea when she'd been learning how to swim. Her lungs ache at the memory. Even still, dragging the end of the staff as sparks dance before the white lines amongst the red and gold ignite, the staff twisted in her arms for a steady one hand hold as she puts herself between the currently shock frozen simian and the corrupted being.

"Macaque, what the fuck is this!?"

He could only stare as it towers over them, hands trembling as his brain screamed at his legs to run. They needed to go, they needed to leave. Shock stabbed into his core as the kid stepped between him and the damn monster. “I…” he croaked, eyes darting from her back and those glowing eyes. “I…” he couldn’t find the words. His heart pounded, and the thing in his chest suddenly moved, making him stumble.

There is a horrific gurgling sound, and it took him a couple of seconds to identify it as laughter. The thing was laughing at him. It lowered its head, blank face splitting to show a fanged grin. “𝖣𝗈𝗇'𝗍…𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋…𝗆𝖾?” Its throat sounded filled with liquid, and it crept further inside. The voice…Macaque’s eyes widened.

“No,” he said again, but this time it was desperate. “No. NO. 𝖭𝖮. You’re just a monster! That’s all you have been, don’t fucking pretend that—”

“𝖥𝗈𝗈𝗅,” it crooned. “𝖳𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗋. 𝖢𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽. 𝖫𝖨𝖠𝖱.” From behind it, a tail sprouted, flicking. Clumps of thick black fell from the tip, splattering over the floor.

Macaque’s breathing picked up, terror filling every part of his body. As if sensing what he was about to do, it grinned at him. The muck cleared a little around the mouth, revealing hints of dirty golden fur. “𝖱𝗎𝗇. 𝖣𝗈 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍…𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍…𝖬𝗂𝗁𝗈𝗎.”

It lurched forward, sending Macaque into a panic. He grabbed the kid and fell into a run, dragging her with him. Behind him, he could hear the monster make contact with the stone, cracking it. It laughed. “𝖥𝗅𝖾𝖾! 𝖱𝖴𝖭 𝖠𝖶𝖠𝖸 𝖫𝖴𝖨 𝖤𝖱!” The latter half of its words shifted into a scream, a tone different than the mocking lilt from before. Macaque followed the order easily.

“We have to go,” he wheezed. “We have to go!”

While she'd never seen Macaque so scared, a part of her relished in his fear. For once she wasn't the one cowering in fear, she alone stood strong and firm while he was the one cowering away. However, his mistake was thinking that she'd be compliant with him. What a fool. Did this monster really just ignore her entire presence. It aims itself at Macaque entirely, as if she didn't exist (which she could use to her advantage) to it at all. That meant her suppression of her aura was working, to appear all but invisible to the magical eye. She's about ready to tear this infected simian apart when a claw snags her. Memories rise forward as she yells, not of panic but pure rage.

She doesn't care that the monster is pursing, or calling Macaque things that frankly she couldn't give judgment on. This wasn't her world. That didn't mean she would succumb to another's whims however. The edges of her fingers find the ebony simians tail and yank as hard as she can, prompting him to stop and only then does she grip at his clothing, hauling him up with ease and throwing him where he wanted to go. Glowing eyes staring at him before turning her attention back to the infection. This disgusting abomination clinging to the very being that had tormented her entire waking hours, had dominated her life and subjected her to things a father should never to their child. The staff radiating enough heat that the stone begins to melt around it.

"You talk too much." Before electricity crackles through the tips of her fingers, the iconic lasers of pure energy coming from her eyes and going straight through the blob of whatever growth, rapidly eviscerated whatever it made contact with as she tilts her head up, more than an attempt to simply eviscerate it. If it's taken over Wukong then she'll do everything she can to kill the immortal. Leave the fighting to the royals. The only one who could kill another royal was a royal right. Suppose that's why she was here, the queen needed to put down the king. Even still, after the area is throughly scorched, only then does she stop. A quick crackle of energy forming a barrier that rapidly cuts off the area around her and past her. Since Macaque was so determined to stay away from it, she'll let him cower behind a shield. "I need him for answers. You can't have him yet."

#I See Who I Want To Be In My Daughters Eyes ☆ Sun Wukong #It's Your Golden Hour ☆ Visage

yourslimeybuddy

don’t ask me what i’ve been doing this is all i can give you

@shadowyspectre Just Her Luck

She would have taken anyone else to bump into besides Macaque. Not even twelve hours ago this very face had been intent on tearing out her throat, not even five had he been dead alongside the king, not even three hours ago had her world been all but obliterated by the gods wrath. Only she had survived. Only she. Why Buddha had chosen it, some sick second chance? Could he have given a second chance to those who she considered her true guardians. Those she had actually cared about?

Focusing on that doesn't matter. There is something vile here, worse than the Macaque (who's in shit condition and smells like he's rotting) deciding to take the lead. Their earlier confrontation hadn't been pleasant, with him managing to barely talk her down after she'd been quite content on attempting to see if she could spear him through the tree first. Brow twitching as she recalls the entire encounter, now to be stuck in a cavern with him (something following them no less) was grating on her last nerves. Except the sound of something clattering randomly makes her pause (while the other scurried back like a frightened cat) and stare in the direction it came from, years of brutal abuse training have her ready. Or so she thought.

Hardfast disgust rising, the urge to puke what she'd barely eaten for breakfast was an option as the scent of sulfur, rotting flesh and what she can only daresay was the scent of a rejuvenating corpse assaulting her sense of smell. Wanting to quickly get rid of the sense just from how potent it was, she actually does nearly gag when the thing finally shows itself. Disgust worms its way through her until quick acting despair grasps her heart like a claw plunging through her chest.

There's no damn way. That faint bit of an aura, smothered under the repulsive one that this entity was radiating. She grips the staff tighter, this reminds her too much of the abomination she fought in the depths of the sea when she'd been learning how to swim. Her lungs ache at the memory. Even still, dragging the end of the staff as sparks dance before the white lines amongst the red and gold ignite, the staff twisted in her arms for a steady one hand hold as she puts herself between the currently shock frozen simian and the corrupted being.

"Macaque, what the fuck is this!?"