Tera sat in a living room that had the egotistical feel running through it. The main culprit and conspirator in this feeling was an overly extravagant Chinese Dinner Table, the kind you don't eat dinner on. And with various over living room devices present, in the living room that had little space for living, Tera stood, sketchbook being used. She smiled, as her perfect plan unfolded, if only in her mind. She couldn't pull it off half as well as in reality, but she was more than willing to believe she could pull it off, limiting factors thrown upon her back. She would not dare look into their angel eyes; she wouldn't dare look into the eyes of a dragon. She wouldn't dare. And her thoughts emanated through her despite, as the room pumped the egotistical feel around a little more. Just a little more, for old time's sake.
Tera worked her leg muscles again. She was no longer in the middle of the room called egotistical, she was now nearing it's door. And her arm muscles worked… The living room called Egotistical was in fact a small room carrying the title of large. It was a living room in a mansion, an offshoot, like the offspring of a bamboo shoot, a small insignificant thing… Compared to something else. The interior of this building was white; the tile, the everything; the light that was not present was blinding. Tera herself walked down the corridor, the long corridor, westward, or northerly, she wasn't quite sure herself.
Tera eventually came upon him. Standing at the top of the stairs, the man she called Beck… Called something else by the others. Her Beck, their someone else, was standing at the Top of the Stairs, looking away, himself a factory of calm, and quite the philanthropist to the adjacent air in overflowing stores of his product. A violin case lay upwards nearby, a black hard case not out of place in the slightest or most absurd sense. Terra moved forward with a hug in mind; Terra moved and tackled Beck forward; a smile of the cruelest kind made Terra's face it's home. And he fell. And time slowed down, as if this one moment was more important, should be savored and devoured and most importantly, given time to see if it should be digested. It was probably a curse to be worn on her sleeve, like a bruise or black eye. A badge of honor. Terra took her fingers pliantly, a halfway crossing of her index and middle finger, and hit her eye. Polarities were reversed, as if in a camera. Dramatics were everything.
Tera watched as Beck fell. He fell down, down, down. A leg hit a step and he spun wildly. Not a single utterance passed his lips as he fell downward in his spiral. His eyes were blank, bare. They were accusing, but blank. A bare canvas with a thin wrapper over it, and beneath that wrapper anyone in the whole wide world could sense a great amount of emotion. It was enough to make Tera shiver. And shivering, she took the brunt of the blow. She was hit from the front and then the back, and then the front again. It alternated, and then it was done. But the last blow was from the back. Falling forward, Tera fell. She fell forward as if she wanted to fall backwards. But she didn't scream. She didn't frown. She smiled. She leered. She grinned. Her perfect plan had unfolded perfectly.