❊ Deep within the depths of the colossus known to be the Andromeda, it had been weeks since the cryptocurrency princess had ventured out of her cigarette-smoke filled chambers; her ways of processing heavy situations did not stray far from how most teenagers expressed their depressions, and though strung out by anger, Vesta did not wish to let how the world now viewed her have as much as an effect on her psyche as it did initially. About a month prior to this dreary night that crept across the darkness on the horizon, the now seventeen-year-old had finally been exposed for the many crimes she had committed against Ishgar and its people under countless aliases. While it was surprising to the young girl just how effective the studies of countless detectives were when it came to piecing the pieces together to her crimson puzzle of money and its power, time was ticking away for her ruthless lifestyle to catch up to her, and it certainly did. One of her old colleagues, Sugar, had been seized within his endeavors and had been offered a reduction in his prison sentence by exposing others dedicated to the criminal lifestyle- this, in combination with the select video footage captured of Vesta at crime scenes by lacrimatech, had caused the investigative teams strung throughout Ishgar to be able to piece together her countless aliases and link them to one name, being Vesta Callo, the eldest daughter of the highest executives of the Biofusion Conglomerate.
In the time that she had spent confiding within the deeper chambers under the main deck of the flagship of the Abyssal Fleet, she had put most of her energy into developing her new airship, the Pomegranate- while she was still figuring out the quirks that came with syncing her own modified lacrimatech to the ship itself, the structure of the ruby red supervehicle was nearly complete. Leaving the side entrance open to the rest of the world that resided within Andromeda's walls, she had hoped that one of her fellow guildmates would make their way into the hotboxed main corridor to say something about what they may happen to see with their eyes. The blood-red fruit was something that made her experience the same feeling that she felt when she would get away with the crimes she would commit; it was a feeling of pride, something she had been conditioned to experience within her early adolescence both by her father and her twisted acquaintances she had met over the years. Bumping to an electronic dj set that she had been listening to for hours on repeat on one of her many crimson lacrimatech fragments that would fill the main corridor of her special construction project, the girl of blonde hair would let out a series of rather dark-toned laughs as she would raise yet another cigarette to her lips, adding to the collection of thick clouds that reeked of tobacco. That feeling of pride felt really fucking good.
Scattering the screens that would float around her, as if they were the planets to her sun, Vesta would begin to run her fingers through her blonde locks that would cascade down to her lower back- on the screens that surrounded her would each project a different depiction of herself in her various old aliases and the attire that came with them. "If the world wants to see me as a fucking criminal, I'll be a fucking criminal," she would confidently speak to the hexbug that would roll around her feet, "...but right now I'm looking at a thousand versions of myself, and not only do I look good, I fucking feel good." Laughing to herself, she would slowly walk over to the stand that her redcube had been resting upon and would twist one of the knobs on its side, causing the volume of the music she had already been blasting to become even louder- tonight she was celebrating her livelihood within this fucked up world, and it felt quite euphoric. "You know what," she would look down at the digital roly-poly that would scuttle up her leg in an attempt to get comfortable, however that may be for an aspect of artificial intelligence, "I think I should take the hottest, most confident bad-bitch version of myself and be that for the rest of my existence. Do you think so, bugby?" The robotic bug would chirp back at its master, which would only fuel her feeling of pride farther within her teenage mind- a sudden urge to take every quality of herself that she felt was powerful and present that to the world with her newfound identity would ring through her mind, which sounded quite appealing within this manic state of hers.
Sifting through the piles of takeout and cigarette cartons that would litter the floor of her newfound ship, the captain-in-training would tap her fingers on the edge of a triangular-shaped drawer and cause it to shoot open with an array of crimson ultraviolet light, revealing a collection of her own beauty and hygiene products. Within this collection was what would appear to be a pomegranate-shaped vial that would sparkle on the inside- unscrewing the cork, she would raise it to the top of her head and would allow the liquid to fall into her hair. In reaction to the magical properties of the potion's contents, the once blonde hair that would fall to her lower back would slip into that of a deep red hue- it would resonate with her crimson optics, flickering with the golden and ruby ultraviolets that would dimly light the interior of the airship of a similar hue. With the flick of her fingers she would pull one of the larger screens of her lacrimatech to sit within her grasp; tapping on the transparent screen of ultraviolet, all of the screens that once showed her previous personas would become that of mirrors, allowing Vesta to see every inch of her body and the "new persona" that she would proceed to bear alongside her upcoming journies across civilization. "God, I feel so fucking alive," she would giggle to herself with pride, allowing the ashes of her cigarette to fall to the floor as she would raise it up to her mouth for the millionth time, "nothing will ever stop me."
wc: 1,052
