[ti]solo[/ti]Hope and Despair

She had it all organized.

All sorted, all planned. A pathway, broken into steps, easy to follow.

Lori looked at the chart she'd made, obscuring the wide wall of the living room.

Specific tutorials. Specific locales. Multiplayer focused. Arena. Things locked behind bytes, behind time, behind the wills of the devs.

She knew what to do, now, one chip at a time.

Pictures were stapled up, around her charts. Fan art. Drawings of Tuesday. Two different faces, but the same person. Tuesday and her sword. Tuesday and her snowflake. Tuesday and her deer.

Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday.

Tīw's Day

Of combat. Of law.

Of justice.

Lori sat there, on the hardwood, in the dead soil. Her apartment rose around her, her home had fallen to ruin. She was alone, and an ambassator from a neighboring country had come through.

Tears fell on the papers, scattered on the floor.

Well, He had said, dismissive. Cold and icy. How could anyone live in a place like this?

Her hands twitched, scraping against the floor.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she remembered lunging, remembered a scream, cut off so, so quickly-

Lori sat up, and quickly got to her feet. Nothing else would be taken from her.

Justice was owed to her, and her alone.