Improper Guardian

Chapter Twenty Six

By: Brenli

"Ne… ma?" Lilliel finished awkwardly. Nema was walking, no, stomping angrily on by… without a shirt on? "Where is your –"

"I'd rather not talk right now, Lilliel…" Nema said quietly, though her face betrayed annoyance. This was not to be taken in a negative light, for Nema had found that she was actually strangely fond of children. In fact, she had decided that one day she must have a daughter… and when she did, she would name her Isobelle, in honor of the little girl on whom Nema had performed a mercy killing.

But however much Nema may have enjoyed children, she was in no mood to deal with anyone, child or not. Particularly, she was uncomfortable seeing Lilliel… because since the day Nema had begun to date Rujiel, Lilliel had been overflowing with happiness at the idea of Nema becoming her official older sister. As far as Lilliel was concerned, the two were already engaged and had, apparently, at some point in time given her the task of making wedding arrangements. For some reason, Lilliel was both the Maid of Honor and the Flower Girl. Her plans were as illogical as Lilliel's assumptions often were, and that's what was going to make Nema's agenda hard. Lilliel wasn't going to take what Nema suddenly had in mind and shrug it off or even pout for a week or so. She was going to raise her own little childlike version of Hell.

"… Hey… do you want me to clear the path for you?" Lilliel asked, her ivory curls bouncing as she hopped in front of a distraught Nema.

Nema managed a weak half-smile. "… Sure."

Nema regretted allowing her such a duty. "MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY! OLDER SISTER WALKING THROUGH! HEY, YOU! QUIT STARING! YOU KNOW THE QUEEN IS A GIRL!"

Nema sighed slowly and marched on with her head hung. Yes, this was going to be particularly hard. It was going to be hard enough as it was.

"Nema?"

Oh, so terribly, terribly perfect. It was Rujiel, leaving his spot next to Nyssa and following his miserable mate. Nema could not bring herself to answer or even acknowledge him as she walked on. God, what kind of mess had she made?

She knew that by no means was Rujiel a bad man. He possessed a strangely Michael-like quality in that he often teased her with a façade of deep annoyance. However, it was a just that. A strangely Michael-like quality.

After beginning her war, Nema had definitely come to realize that Michael was not a desirable man; he had done several things that made him undeserving of love, particularly hers. And yet she couldn't deny that sometimes… she liked to pretend that Rujiel was, more or less, Michael. In a way, he was, for Nema had been shamefully using him as a Michael replacement. Yes, she was ashamed, and had for a little while now been trying to force the Fire Angel out of her head and replace it with the image before her: the image of Rujiel, her mouthy and yet particularly gentle Rabbit boyfriend.

But it should be noted that even Rujiel was what one would call undeserving of her affections. Or perhaps he was, but was hardly ready for it. For as time crawled on, and Nema had begun to try to force Michael away, she'd become keenly aware of Rujiel and his actions. While he was no two-timer, he remained a self-appointed figure in Nyssa's life, often checking up on her, spending time with her, talking about her. Perhaps, if he did not seem so… hopelessly interested… in Nyssa, Nema would have shrugged off the behavior. But it was very much apparent in his garnet eyes. He continued harboring feelings for Nyssa.

Nema sometimes wondered if perhaps he, in some subconscious way, was using her just as she had been using him.

Well… it wouldn't matter, anymore.

"Okay, have fun!" Lilliel said gleefully before bowing in her pretty red and pink dress and skipping away. The couple were at the door to Nema's bedroom, now, and once the little Rabbit girl had left them, Rujiel brushed Nema's snowy white hair over her equally pale shoulder.

"Holy… You need to get that looked at, Nema…!"

"I'll get it looked at," Nema mumbled quietly, rushing into her room, making a big show out of looking for a brush.

"… It was Michael, wasn't it?" Rujiel asked with the low, brooding tones of disgust and anger.

"… That's not what matters." Nema said weakly.

"'Course it matters; don't be stupid!"

"I'm not stupid!" She quickly hissed over her shoulder.

"Nema, that bastard has been singling you out left and right ever since he came here to see you! He's doing it on purpose, you know…"

"I don't care."

"I DO. And so does everyone else." Rujiel said firmly as Nema finally found her hairbrush and began running it through her ivory strands. "Don't you hear what they're all saying…? He does it to make you weak… It is a war maneuver, and he's using it to the best of his ability!"

"You think that man makes me weak?" Nema snapped, gripping the brush tightly.

"We've seen it, even Nyssa had commented on how unattached you become after he attacks you. You leave questions unanswered and prisoners of war hang in some kind of limbo until you FINALLY get your act together, Nema…!"

"I think you forgot your place, Rujiel…!" Nema said darkly, her ruby eyes sending invisible, angry sparks toward him. "YOU are just a soldier and have no right giving ME advice!"

"I am your BOYFRIEND and I've got the right to tell you when you're out of line!"

"YOU are the one who is out of line! Are you telling me I'm WRONG, somehow? Why? Because I'm not POPPING the heads off those pathetic White Wings we scoop up? Because I'm not OKAY with an ex lover doing shit like THIS?" She pointed at her neck wound, which had finally stopped bleeding. "Forgive me for not being as much of a TYRANT as I'd started out to be!"

"Nema, stop it!" Rujiel snatched her hairbrush away from her. "Tyrant or not, that… that man is messing around with you. As a soldier AND your boyfriend I can't let that slide!"

"What are you going to do? Kill him?" Nema snarled.

"… Maybe."

Nema stood there with her ruby eyes fixed on the center of Rujiel's chest. "… It's… not your position to get rid of him. You… have a little sister that needs you. So I can't allow you to take on a mission quite so… big." She said the words softly, all of a sudden, as though just maybe, she were trying to convince herself that this excuse was valid.

And Rujiel knew that was what she was doing. Making excuses. Under his scowl he growled, "… Then who, Nema…? You?" He felt his heart break a little as she maintained a cold face and turned away, apparently searching for a comb now that her hairbrush had been taken away from her. He watched her turn away, cold as ever… too much like… someone he still vaguely adored. "Jesus…" Rujiel sighed bitterly, "Just like Nyssa…"

"Yes, JUST like Nyssa." Nema snapped acidly.

"Now what is that supposed to mean?" Rujiel replied with tones of frustration and anger.

"It means exactly that it sounds like! I am JUST like Nyssa. In YOUR eyes." Nema turned to face him fully, light reflecting off her red eyes. "And I think it would make you DAMN sick to know who I think YOU'RE like…! SWEETHEART!"

"Don't get snappy with me, Nema, I –" Rujiel felt Nema steal her hairbrush out of his hands.

"YOU nothing…!" Nema hissed, and dropped the hairbrush on her vanity with a 'thud'. "… NOTHING. We're through."

There was a significantly long pause. Nema shut her eyes to keep from seeing any kind of reaction. Eventually it came through, quiet and yet, screaming in her ears. "… You aren't serious…"

"I can't do this, anymore!" Nema screamed, yet to her it was too quiet, not expressing the right amount of pain she endured at this moment. "I'm not going to lie to myself and pretend you're HIM! Maybe you're fine with that game…! Maybe you aren't even playing that game to begin with! But God, I was, and I'm done!"

Still her eyes were closed, and she couldn't see. "You were…lying to me."

"Yes, I was. And I'm going to stop lying right now…!"

"Nema…"

"You may leave, now, Rujiel." Nema finished coldly and began digging through one of her drawers.

"… I'm not leaving."

"I said LEAVE!"

"No!" Rujiel snapped, and then Nema felt hands gripping her arms and trying turn around around.

"Let me GO!"

"I'm not leaving! If you are dead serious about this you better look me in the EYES and tell me what you just said!"

Nema struggled to slip a shirt on her body… a black, man-tailored shirt… too big for her… belonging to… that Angel of hers…

Rujiel felt his insides freeze and his hands dropped from her, as though suddenly they were far too heavy for him to lift. He could have sworn she would have thrown it away by now… But there it was, washed and ironed… settling on her perfectly, though it was too large for her small frame.

She had kept his shirt… Michael's shirt. And now she stood with her head hung, the black shirt left unbuttoned, still exposing her bra… but somehow, she seemed to have lost her modesty.

Rujiel found it in himself to take her by the shoulders, turn her around, and cradle the pale face of hers, urging her to look up at him. "Nema… talk to me…"

Nema opened her red eyes and allowed two tears to slip down her face. "I have always considered you a friend… and that's why… I can't lie to you, anymore."

"But… I… I l-"

"Don't." Nema said sharply. "You will be lying to me… Because I know."

"No…"

"I know that you still love her."

"No I d-"

"It's okay… because I still love him." Nema felt her two tears slipping through Rujiel's white fingers and onto her face. "Please go… before you make me want to keep lying to you."

Rujiel opened his mouth, but no words could leave him. What more could he say, or ask for? She had looked him in the eye and calmly, sadly, told him that she would no longer be his. "… God…" Was all he could mutter before his gave her a kiss to end the relationship with. She was heartbreakingly compliant, allowing him to make it deep, long, and soft. She felt she owed him that much. "… I'm sorry." He apologized quietly, and then he left.

The door clicked shut.

And the deed, the horrible deed, was done. Nema should never have had to do such a thing to begin with. She never should have kissed Rujiel before Michael, and awarded him that kind of illusion. Nema had woven an elaborate mess in the midst of a literal war, because she was just that foolish and heartbroken. Now she had gotten rid of the mess to the best of her ability…but what made it hard was that Nema was STILL foolish and heartbroken. In anger and sadness she chewed on the edge of the black sleeve, fighting down a sob, but failing to keep the tears from running down and away from her. One tear managed to slip down into her bite wound, making it sting.

A knock on the door made her jump. "What?" She sounded snappy and she knew it.

"Nema-sama…" A shy voice came through softly. She knew who it was. It was a girl about her age, and though she had insisted that she not be referred to in such respects when they were not in the midst of White Wings, this girl continued to honor her. "There is a new prisoner of war… What would you have us do with him? Leave him with the others or…?" She squeaked as Nema threw open her door. "Oh goodness, Nema-sama, you could have told me you were getting dressed…! … Nema-sama?"

Nema marched past her in some apparent, newfound rage. Rujiel said that they thought she had gone weak because of Michael. She had let a number of prisoners of war go on living because she needed time alone, to attempt to mentally clear Michael out of her head. And because of this, her people found her weak.

Well, she'd show them. Just because she was a heartbroken fool didn't mean she was INCAPABLE of dealing out pain. She'd show them. Even if her shirt was still unbuttoned.

A trail of curious onlookers formed, but Nema remained oblivious to them. At the very most, she wanted them to see what she was about to do.

Oh, there was the door. A heavy door, with a heavy lock, but by now, in all her despair and rage, she blew the door right off its hinges. Nema had to admit there was a hefty number of White Wings within this room… And judging from the blood seeping out from under the fallen door, she'd already gotten rid of at least one. She stepped onto the door, her red eyes piercing into the tired and half-starved bodies around her, and she said plainly, "You're overdue."

She began the way she thought it best, and took care of limbs first. Bodies fell and flailed like strange white-winged maggots, screaming and crying men, perhaps too tired and sick to really put up any kind of defense. The exploding flesh and muscle tissue quickly slipped around on the pools of blood, but from Nema's spot on her door, she was only lightly splashed with the red liquid. After this, she decided to rupture their innards. The cries grew significantly louder with this second wave of assault, and from behind Nema the cries of shock echoed through, turned the room into an opera hall of slaughter. It was so strangely artistic, this cruel mass murder of hers, in that she saw her pain reflected on the faces and cries of the White Wing foes.

At last, there was one more step. The head. And all of these poor White Wing heads disappeared at once, leaving behind masses of flesh, bits of torn skin, misplaced white wings… and a floor coated in blood.

"… I hope…"

The many faces of the Improper Children inched away as she looked over her shoulder.

"… That you have all been properly entertained." And with that Nema stepped off the door, stepped through the mess she'd made, and stomped through the path promptly made for her. "Never again will you accuse me of being weak! Whether a White Wing stole my heart or not is NOT your concern! My priority is YOU, and I will win your freedom! And that is all you will concern yourselves with!"

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Doll mumbled and hummed to herself as she brushed her black curls out of her eyes and looked up, for perhaps the tenth time today, at the image of Betty Page that she had stolen from Katou. She sighed and slipped into Barbiel's white stilettos, closed her dark eyes, and stepped in front of her mirror to observe herself.

She had made a copy of Bettie Page's outfit out of one of her many maid dresses. She used the gray fabric of one of her skirts to make a pair of gray capris, so tight she was pretty sure they might burst open if she took the wrong step. Her white crop top was constructed with the fabric of one of her many aprons, and she had tied it into a firm knot between her breasts, just as Bettie had done.

Her dark eyes went completely round. If it weren't for the cuffs around her wrists and her little maid hat, she never would have thought she was herself. "Wow… So… guys like girls who look like this…?" Then she checked the clock. "Oh! It's time for Uriel-sama's tea!" Doll cried and hurried about, getting the tea ready for her speedy delivery. Doll had taken it upon herself to run in circles in these shoes when she was in the privacy of her room. After falling over twenty or so times, she got the art of performing daily functions in stilettos down like a science.

"Uriel-sama!" Doll cried cheerfully, nudging the door to the Earth Angel's study open. "I have your tea!"

"Yes, th-" Uriel paused, eyes wide, as Doll giggled and bounced toward him, unaware that her new outfit was doing an exceptionally good job of accentuating her assets. He quickly looked away, pretending to be wrapped up in the papers he was studying.

"May I ask what Uriel-sama is reading?" Doll asked, looking over Uriel's shoulder.

"Just reports concerning the Rabbit Hunting and the War… Michael was found unconscious on the battlefield the other day."

"Really? Why?" Doll leaned further forward.

"…"

"Uriel-sama?"

"It says here that according to medical reports, he had overdosed on painkillers… this, and they found self-inflicted wounds on his body."

"My goodness…! What would Nema think?"

"… Who is to say, anymore? Times and people are in chaos, up in Heaven. Who can say anything for sure, anymore?"

Doll sighed. "Uriel-sama, you shouldn't read so much depressing stuff…!"

"I shouldn't?" Uriel, in the process of turning, lightly brushed his shoulder against her bosom. It sent the poor Archangel into a very rare state of panic, and he jumped back, his face sharply turned away from her. "I'm sorry…!"

Little did Uriel know, Doll was giggling inside. "What ever could you be sorry for?"

"Doll, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Suddenly Doll's internal giggles stopped. "… Why, Uriel-sama?"

"… I would like some time alone. Please leave me. And thank you for the tea." Uriel said as evenly as possible.

"… Oh. Okay…" Doll said quietly, bowed, and began to leave.

She was no longer bouncy, and made her movements slowly, until the door had finally clicked shut. A part of her had wanted to turn just once more and see if he was looking at her. It felt like he might have been… but he had also asked her to leave. Maybe… it was like Barbiel had said… and Uriel was not like Katou, and Uriel did not like Bettie Page, and Uriel… had thought she was ugly.

Sometimes she hated herself for her amazing ability to be so childish.

Her steady walk away from Uriel's room began to turn into a run as she fought back the drops of sadness lingering in her eyes. She was so ugly…! And Uriel would never LOOK at her the way she wanted him to…!

"Whoa! … Well, hellOOO."

It was… HIM. That pig! That perverted jerk! Being as happy as always. Looking at her… you know, LOOKING at her. Ugh! He probably just wanted her to bake more cookies! "Go away… pig!" Doll snapped and rubbed her arm over her face in angry sadness before moving around him and continuing her run.

She half expected him to run after her, and sure enough, he did, his blonde hair flowing behind him. If there was ever a trait of Katou's that Doll had liked, it was that hair. So different from Uriel's dark waves… a beauty that belonged to Katou only.

Not that Doll liked anything else about him. "Someone's a little bitchy today!" He said cruelly.

"That's not funny!" Doll despised the way her voice cracked. It was pathetic and weak of her, and she only allowed herself to be weak around Uriel… and NEVER around that perverted pig, Katou!

"… You okay?" Katou said it with a strange sort of laugh in his voice. It seemed tremendously fake, but Doll didn't pick up on it.

"That's not your business! Go away!" Doll cried. Then something truly strange and unexpected happened. Katou suddenly pressed on ahead of her and grabbed hold of the doorknob to Doll's personal room, turned it, and opened it for her.

He said nothing, and let his eyes pierce into her. He was searching for something. Doll didn't know what. Maybe he was just getting an eyeful. Well, this eyeful wasn't for him! "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? CLOSE MY DOOR!"

Katou arched a brow and laughed. "What, didya wanna run into the door a couple times? Are your gears a little out of wack?"

Doll stared at him with wide eyes. Though he often insulted her, he'd never really gone so far as to pick on her in regards to her body. She knew he knew that she was living in a very old shell, so defective that now and then, Uriel had to wind her up with a key. She was comprised of earthly elements and all outward appearances looked and felt very human, but her very most important organs were nonexistent… literal gears and screws made of organic material. Truth to tell, she hated her defective body. Doll was ALREADY sad that Uriel did not find her attractive. Now Katou had to step in and say THAT! She wanted to hit him, so she did, and was frustrated that he did not seem very effected by it. "I HOPE YOU DIE… AGAIN!" Doll hissed and rushed into her room, throwing herself onto her bed like only she, in melodramatic ways, could get away with.

"Listen, kid, whatever's got you so wound up –"

"THAT'S NOT FUNNY! IF I WANT INSULTS ABOUT MY STUPID ROBOTIC BODY, I'LL ASK FOR THEM!" Doll wailed.

"… Well that wasn't what I MEANT, but whatever…" She heard him kick her door shut.

"OPEN MY DOOR!"

"Why? You're, like… BAWLING all over the place. You don't think we should retain the water in one room?"

"STOP IT! STOP TRYING TO BE SO FUCKING FUNNY, BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT!"

Katou blinked. "Did you just… SWEAR at me?"

Doll looked up from her despairing position on her bed. "So what if I did?"

"… Sorry about the gears thing."

She observed him as he said his plain apology. His face was as plain as his words, as though, perhaps he saw no difference between his insults and this apology.

After a pause in which Doll sniffled and buried her head in her pillow, Katou coughed, maybe out of boredom, maybe because he couldn't think of what to say. "… So… what's the occasion?"

Doll sniffled loudly. "What?"

"Your new getup. What's the occasion?" Katou openly pointed at her Bettie Page-esque outfit.

This only sent Doll into a fresh batch of tears. "… URIEL-SAMA THINKS I'M UGLY!"

Doll sobbed and wailed like she were a mere two year old, but she choked on the tears when she heard a stifled laugh.

Katou was trying… he was trying so damn HARD…! But good Lord, Doll was just hilarious sometimes.

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU IT'S NOT FUNNY?"

"Doll, kid… If Uriel-SAMA thinks you're ugly, he's not worth your tears." Katou stated simply.

Doll tried to look at him through her tears, but he looked blurry and deformed. "… What?"

Katou let loose a small laugh and grabbed her wrists, pulling her off her bed. "Oh, for cryin' out loud…! What is it with women? Doll, kid, wipe your face off and look at yourself." She didn't have to because her did it for her, with the bandana he'd had formerly twisted into a band and tied around his head.

Doll went ahead and looked at herself, reflected in her closet mirror. She was standing there in her Bettie Page outfit, so tight it showed off each feminine curve she possessed. Her pouted lips were still locked in a frown and her dark eyes were a little watery from crying.

"If you'd just smile, kid, you'd be a total knockout. Hell, even with you NOT smiling, you're a total knockout. But whatever. You get my point?"

Doll blinked rapidly at Katou's reflection in her mirror. "… So do you think Uriel-sama thinks I'm pretty?"

Katou snorted, suddenly looked more than a little peeved. "Well how the Hell should I KNOW, huh? But if he doesn't, he's fucking dumb." He observed Doll's cross face. "What? That's the truth. You're damn pretty, Doll." Suddenly he couldn't really look at her, anymore, and it was then that he noticed his missing Bettie Page image taped to Doll's mirror. "Hey, I was looking for that…!" He promptly took it off her mirror.

Doll looked over her shoulder at him, but now he seemed very intent on just staring at Bettie's picture. "… You're just saying that 'cause I'm dressed like HER!" Doll snarled. Somehow she felt even angrier at Katou than at Uriel. How dare he get flirtatious with her at a time like THIS, just because she looked like HER?

There was a long pause. Katou was looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She, once again, couldn't read into the look, but it, as usual, made her a little nervous. "… Doll, I don't know what you're talking about. Everybody knows that maid dresses are sexy. And you LIVE in them. Don't fucking tell me when I'm lying. 'Cause I'm not this time."

"… What?"

"I'm not repeating myself! It's your own damn fault if you have bad ears!" Katou was suddenly slipping back into his rowdy self, but Doll ignored that fact.

"… So I'm pretty either way?"

"You oughta know the answer to that by now, kid!" Katou rolled his eyes. Doll realized that it was so overdone… about as overdone as her bout of tears! It made Doll smile. It was good to know she had caught him at a moment in which he didn't feel in control, anymore.

"So I can take these stupid shoes off and I'll still be pretty?"

Katou's gaze pierced into her again, searching for a second time, but now Doll welcomed it was a challenging grin. "Well why the Hell are you wearing them if you think they're so stupid?"

Doll seemed to find the answer hiding in those words and happily kicked them off, well aware that she was now five inches shorter than she already had been against Katou's tall frame. "And now I'm still pretty?"

"DAMMIT, DOLL! Fine, whatever! You're pretty, 'kay? Geez, who the Hell blew up YOUR ego?"

Doll laughed. She hopped and laughed, and she wasn't sure why. Maybe because she was happy to see that she'd annoyed Katou back, after all the times he'd succeeded in annoying her. Maybe she was happy that Katou found her pretty. He wasn't Uriel, but he found her pretty! … But… it was just too bad he wasn't Uriel. "… But HE doesn't think so…"

"Oh what the Hell, Doll? I already told you! Do I have to spell it out for you?" Katou suddenly cried. "The guy is an idiot. Okay? I don't care if he's Mr. Doom & Gloom, check out my badass scythe, I'ma CUT you! Point is, he decided to stick you in this pretty little body of yours, and for what? So you can make him tea? Fuck, isn't that some kind of life?" Katou sounded thoroughly disgusted, and Doll wasn't sure how to take any of that. He was disgusted, but not because of something affecting him. It was because of something affected HER. "Seriously, first time I met you I was DAMN sure he was usin' you for a bed buddy!"

Doll suddenly gasped. "OH, HOW DARE YOU –"

"Then it hits me that he's not! You're just his maid! His lonely little maid, and let me tell you it's DAMN obvious that you worship the ground he walks on!" Katou didn't even hear her. "And seriously, what kind of life is that? Huh, kid? I mean, you can't possibly be OKAY with serving tea all day and not getting anything in return! To be honest I'd probably be happier if he WAS your bed buddy! Then I wouldn't have to see you sobbing all over your bed like just now! Dammit, Doll, Uriel's a either an asshole or a coward! Either way, he can't expect you to wait forever, can he? Let me tell you if he's not careful, someone's gonna steal you away! AND YOU'RE PROBABLY GONNA LIKE IT!"

"… U… Uriel is NOT an… an asshole!" Doll stuttered. "He just…"

"Is hung up. On Alexiel, who isn't his. She's Kira's. Meanwhile, you go ahead and worship him, kid. Dress up like Bettie Page to try and seduce him. At least… ya chose a good model." Katou coughed again, trying to come off casual in spite of the fact that he had screamed… much more than he had intended. He pretended to be infatuated with his little picture, smiling at it. "What a doll, huh?"

Doll couldn't help but pout. She wasn't sure why. Suddenly she was angry again. Let down… and it… wasn't because of Uriel. "What kind of expression is that? 'What a doll?' There's only one Doll while I'm here!"

"Well EXCUSE ME, Princess." Katou snickered. But when he tilted up her chin, he hardly looked sarcastic or mean at all. "There is only one Doll. Got it."

Suddenly, Katou was leaving. "Hey, K-"

"Save it for later, kid. I'm tired." And to her surprise, she watched him tear the image of Bettie Page into fourths and toss them into the trash.

"KATOU! But… I…" Doll quickly assumed a snobby attitude. "I thought you needed to stare at that dumb picture all day… like the pig you are!"

But Katou wasn't playing along this time. "… Eh. I don't need it, anymore."

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AUTHORESS NOTE: OH, I KNOW! I am such a BLASPHEMER! SINS! I SHOULD GO TO HELL!

Hah. Like that's even all that bad. I mean, Lucifer's gonna be there!

Anyway, in case it isn't obvious by now, "Impy" is a little more than Mika and Nema… even if they ARE the main focus… they're just not the ONLY one.

And it is NOT that I don't like UriDoll pairings. I personally find the pairing a little adorable, myself, and I know a lot of you do, as well. I will not be surprised if I get reviews crying, "KATOUDOLL? IT'S ALL ABOUT URIDOLL!"

Well, MAYBE it was time for a refreshing change as far as Doll goes. Also, MAYBE I'm paving the way for my future coauthoress and her whole deal. But I won't go into that. You'll find out about that soon, enough anyway.

But yes, I know. I'm a blasphemer and I'ma goin' ta HELL!

WOOO! PARTY AT LUCIFER'S! I'MA BE THERE!