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rosie's p.o.v

i'm not sure how long i waited but it felt like an eternity. i kind of expect it to be like a bus, you know, you wait for ages and ages and then you walk away from the bus stop in defeat and then the damned vehicle arrives. but it never arrives, and i just look like a complete idiot lying in the middle of a fire. with a huff, i force myself to sit up. i feel weirdly okay, despite the pain in my side which is still undeniably there. i look at my hands and my arms and they still seem to be there. for a moment i entertain the idea that i might actually have ended up in hell but when i look up i can still see the building that i fell from and i'm pretty sure that my eyesight isn't that good. so i'm not in hell, this definitely isn't heaven, i'm not in too much pain. looks like i didn't die.

that's nice i suppose, although it means i just went through a hell of a lot of distress for absolutely nothing and that makes me angry. come to think of it, i have a lot to be angry about. this whole scenario makes me angry. i'm so mad. i rock to my feet and just stand still for a moment, forcing a deep breath in and out of my lungs. remember to breathe, always remember to breathe. there's no point not dying only to forget to breathe.

flames lick my arms and legs but to no avail, my flesh refuses to melt like candle wax and i emerge from the bonfire unscathed. right, let's get down to business.

my skin might not be boiling, but my blood certainly is. come on rosalie, use it to your advantage. flexing my spine, i unfold my wings from where they hide beneath my skin. i ensure that the feathers are red and shake them out to make them wide and puffy.

next, i allow my antlers to emerge as red horns, protruding like metal spikes.

then, just out of curiosity i imagine myself with a tail. i've never been so amused as in the moment when a cloud of crimson forms into that signature demon tail with the spike on the end. it's perfect. i'm more than satisfied.

raising my arm in the air, i wait for my bow to join me. when the metal reaches me, it's also red. the whole satan theme is really working out for me.

with a few blinks i can feel my eyes change; i'm ready.

i give my hair a ruffle so that my curls fall around me with more volume, my crown forming in silver leaves around my head, and then i simply push my wings against the air and fly up.

anger pretty much overrides everything else. killian hurt my mom and he hurt my dad and he hurt happy and i am not going to let him get away with it. he is going to feel my wrath and he is not going to enjoy it. if there was ever a time to use the full extent of my powers, it's now.

i swoop around the support beams, coming to levitate behind dad but keeping out of sight. i have to remind myself that as angry as i am, i have to keep tactical. i have to bide my time. if you're going to listen to what loki told you about being a freak, you may as well listen to his advice as well.

i grab onto the railing, my body mostly hidden by a crate as i listen to their conversation. dad is crouching on the floor, surrounded by pieces of broken armour. to me it looks like the mark 42 but it's hard to tell when it's been reduced to chunks of metal.

killian is stood on a higher platform, the proxemics of the situation absolutely perfect if i had to analyse their effects. he's glowing with pride.. and extremis.

"you really didn't deserve her tony" killian shakes his head. his entire chest glows orange like my body did a few moments before; i roll my eyes at this stupid serum thing. it may have saved my life but i'm pretty sure that if it hadn't been invented then my life wouldn't have needed saving in the first place. bullshit. "it's a pity" he continues with an ego that radiates even bigger than my dad's "i was so close to have her perfect".

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