Fiery Hearts Jan 23, 2023 13:30:22 GMT -5
Post by Amara on Jan 23, 2023 13:30:22 GMT -5
Amara had wanted nothing more than to celebrate her newfound freedom. Vanishing from the face of Plant - leaving only her one-way teleporter behind - and just... taking a vacation, she supposed. Maybe on Earth or Namek. Bring Dion, and make it a whole official 'thing' with him. Yet here she was, willingly floating around Hatchi. Gone was the tidied ponytail and NEO armor that the former Queen was most recognizable in. Messy, straight, chocolate locks of hair flowed freely, spilling over her shoulder and down her back. A pair of thick-rimmed square glasses sat snugly over her brilliant blue eyes. Excess rolls of a baggy, light blue pull-up jumper hung from her arms, cutting off at the black tights that led into similarly blue elastic 'socks' and a pair of black boots.
Frankly, she looked like a college student or couch potato more than she did a former monarch. The outfit was even more hilariously out of place in the middle of a reparation zone. Amara had started some basic clean-up measures last time she was here - immediately after defeating Lottus - but the damage dealt to Hatchi still needed a guiding light to ensure things went smoothly. A trickle of Tuffles had returned to their homes in the weeks since the battle. Parts of the city, mainly suburbs and smaller shops, had returned to a sense of normalcy. Elsewhere looming skyscrapers and streets sat empty, devoid of the people that had once traversed them every day. The damage to Hatchi might've been superficial, but the fear the Tuffles felt - being attacked in their own homes? It would take some time for that to fade.
It was an odd sight. The previous Saiyan Queen dressed in Earthling-Tuffle clothing, manipulating hardlight and gravity guns to remove rubble and patch up damage across the city. Any signs of Saiyan aide had stopped, pulled back as Taori consolidated his power. She didn't blame him. Inheriting foreign policy directly from her instead of making his own decisions would be received poorly by Sadala. Amara sighed, sweat glistening, arms trembling, breaths shaking. She'd been working for hours with non-stop magic and no amplifiers. The half-blood grumbled, floating down to a nearby park bench and cracking open a can of Hetap.
TWC: 373 | PL: 100,000