Plan of Action

"Welp. It's official now. I feel like flaming garbage." Amara spread herself across the yellowed grass of Hell, groaning slightly as her senses continued to just... hurt. She'd been in Otherworld without an actual body since her arrival, given that the Tuffle saw no need to actually have one. Climbing back into a meat puppet with all of its' quirks like SENSORY INPUT after already having adjusted to not having it was borderline torture. "How did I even stand this before??" Rolling over to her stomach, Amara buried her face in the coarse flora, continuing to let her soul acclimate to its new physical prison once more. "I want to die a second time. This is the WORST THING!" Of course, Amara was not required to stay in a body per the Otherworld's rules, but she did so regardless.

So why then had Amara switched gears from her free-floating spirit before? It was only as of her last encounter with a certain Arcosian that the Tuffle had decided to sit down and think. Think about what it really meant to her. 'It' in this case being internment in the afterlife. And Amara came to the solid conclusion that with all these weirdos coming to disrupt her peace and continuously misinterpret everything she said that it was STUPID. So many random living people wanted her to come back to life for whatever stupid reason, and the world's leaders continued to be jerks. There was no choice but to prepare for the impossible! Amara hadn't the slightest clue of where to start for actually breaking the natural laws of nature. She assumed, however, that reclaiming a physical body to carry back with her would be a decent starting plan. Despite the physical pains, it luckily functioned identically to just a free soul when using her magic. A small victory and the first step forward!

There was still the big issue of figuring out how to transport a soul and its new body across a dimensional barrier specifically designed to not let people like her out. That was a bit more tricky given that Amara actually did hold some respect for the Ogre King. Betraying the trust she'd been afforded in going to Heaven seemed almost slimy. The Tuffle wouldn't fool herself with the excuse of 'but it's for the right cause!'. She did believe the ends could justify the means in very fringe and extreme circumstances, but this was not one of them. Her purpose was self-serving, arrogant, and ultimately defied the natural order. Still, as much as Amara liked to pretend she was detached from emotions and events unfolding outside of her prison... she wasn't. She was mortal, after all.

"Hmmm," Amara wiggled her very physical extremities, fingers wobbling to and fro. Her sense of touch was still off. Physical nerve sensations were far less accurate than simulated ghost senses, but they'd have to suffice. "And up I go!" With no small amount of effort, Amara hopped to her feet, hand automatically adjusting her goggles now that it actually caught her hair. "I have a feeling that this is going to just make me realize all the little annoyance about being real again." She sighed dramatically, glancing around at the majorly barren plateau before her. There was a specific place she was aiming to uncover in Hell. A place that her previous suppliers for the physical counterparts of hardlight tech got their stuff from. It was apparently a VERY well-kept secret from most. Rumor had it that an illegal black market of sorts that not even the most diligent of Ogres could pin down existed in the area. It was just what she needed!