#third - “im not a kid - no fucking kidding pattycakes” lives RENT FREE in my mind in fact I will pay rent to YOU

[patty-propaganda-archive]

Patty goes hard. She may be delicate and kind but she is also a survivor, I find hope in her and I believe in her

DMC Questions Anon here!

DMC 5 did a great thing a gave us dates! It also gave us a Patty cameo that revealed it's her birthday on May 3rd. So my question for you is, how will her next birthday go after DMC 5?

The heady scent of incense burned through the air, the dark night sky hidden behind curtains so thick they felt as if they could keep the entire world at bay. Furniture pushed to one side of the room, scratch marks still visible in the parquet floor. It was now or never.

She was alone. She had never felt so alone. Desperate. No matter how many people she surrounded herself with, no matter how many flashy names with their flashy smiles and even flashier cars, she never felt safe anymore. Those marionettes with the double-barrelled surnames that had never stared down death and been protected by the barrel of a gun. They didn't understand. They could never understand. How could they, unless they had seen what she had seen? She wasn't cruel enough to wish that on anybody.

She remembered a simpler time, when she was told everything would be okay if she closed her eyes. When she dared to trust a stranger, in eternal optimism that there were good people she could trust, and she would be taken care of. Rescued.

It was her turn to do the rescuing now. She closed her eyes and took a breath.

The sigils outlining the circle began to glow as she fell to her knees and slapped bloodied palms on the floor. She recited the words, not knowing exactly what they meant but trusting them anyway. Lady would be furious, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. She poured every ounce of hope she possessed into every syllable she uttered. They came from her gut now, and from the darkest recesses of her heart.

She felt pressure, pressing on her from all sides, suffocating, but she pressed on. She had spent months nurturing her skills, learning the words down to the last inflection and growl. She'd be damned if she would give up now. Giving up was not a phrase in Patty's vocabulary.

The pressure reached a crescendo, crushing her chest inward and pushing her down toward the floor, bowing to a deity not even there, but with the last demonic growl the sigils disappeared from sight, the magic poured into them spent, and the room was draped in darkness once more. She leaned forward, bowing her head, trying desperately to hold herself upright and hear anything beyond the rushing of blood through her ears. Darkness.

---

Heavy breathing, then the glow of a small summoned sword faintly lights the room with blue. Eyes immediately pick out the girls silhouette, slumped on her side but knees still drawn up toward her chest. A flash of red - he knows that silhouette.

"...Patty?"

She feels him speak more than she hears it, and cracks her eye open, frowning against the pain in her head and rubbing her forehead against the cool wooden floor. He's beside her in an instant.

She knew what to say: she had spent almost as much time daydreaming about it as she had studying the dark arts she would need to make it happen.

"You're a whole year late, you know."