Hey who remembers this?
The day grows still. Rosey stands in a pool of cold light, drowning in its colour. Its illumination. Katie's face grows cold in the golden beam, beholding the tool resting between the fingers of her Paragon, her Lala. The gun rises along the joints of Lala's arm, which bends inwards, bowing at the Rosey's temple.
Rosey raises a free hand to wave goodbye to Katie, who shakes her head in disbelief, tears forming in her eyes as the final words form on her friend's lips.
Rosey: Goodbye.
The world explodes under Lala's hand, and the day grows cold. Katie, eyes streaming, breaks out in poem, clutching Rosey's sticky corpse with an earnest longing. Wishing. She screams the words to move a mountain, but none is moved. Lala blows the smoke from her pistol, then turns to leave.
Katie: Oh Rosey, remain!
Please say that you feign
Your body still warm
Oozing out on the lane
Whatever your pain-oh
You did not complain-o
But now you're a stain-o
Splayed out on the lane! No!
I miss your sweet laugh and
Your muffin-filled 'stache!
Tears tear from her eyes as she looks up at Lala with cold, dead fury.
Katie: The end of our path...
Was brought close by wrath
Lala: ...
Katie: Maybe yours will be, too. Watch your back, Lala.
She turns away softly, sadly, poetically, distraught-- Grief and denial clinging to her heart like a dagger of frozen pain stuck in tight and twisted, manifesting in clenched fists-- And heads off to the coffee shop for a muffin. Renée joins her, wiping her own tears away with a puffy bit of cake. She holds Katie's hand well into the evening.
Oh what fun it is to sing a slaying song tonight.