Work Text:
The apartment she rents stinks of cigarette smoke by now. Not that it was in a good state to begin with, being all she could afford on minimum wage. But this learned pattern, this human addiction- it had caught her, hadn't it? She wasn't too prideful to admit that, as she struck another match with the intent to make it even worse.
Her thoughts help her idle as she puts the lit cigarette between her lips and pulls the acrid taste of poison into her lungs, her elbows finding their place on the windowsill, one knee propped up against the wall. And her gaze met the horizon, a silver stripe far in the distance. Somewhere in that distance, the quiet rumble of thunder brews.
Summer is the cruelest of seasons, she thinks.
In the autumn, as the leaves change and the harvest begins, there is peace. In the winter, as the skeletons of trees are exposed and nature falls into its deep sleep, there is hope. In the spring, as buds open and petals fall, there is rebirth.
In the summer, the world has only its cruel reality.
From her most recent successful failure to recreate the world, she has learned several things.
First. That she was not wrong. She had never doubted that- it was plain as day to her that the way humans lived, they were doomed to misery from the moment of their birth. The vast majority of them were right to want to reject that fate. Living is suffering, dying is worse. She'd known that from the beginning, and it had only been reaffirmed.
Second. That the will of the majority is never respected. Never mind if humanity as a whole would prefer things one way or another- it's a world of the strong. And if someone is willing to destroy you for your plans, well, it's easiest to give them up.
Third. Humans are more prideful than she'd ever given them credit for.
With a long breath out, the smoke from her lungs rises up to meet the grey sky.
She extinguishes her cigarette on the palm of her left hand. She's felt worse.
Work starts in twenty minutes, anyway. There's not enough time to sit around feeling sorry for herself, and sorry for plans already dead. Without hesitation, she pulls the window shut behind her- and moves to go collect her uniform, putting the mask of humanity on once more.
Being created by humans- How different is she from them, really?
...Ah, they've really gotten to her this time.