Gods Aren't Perfect - OFFICIAL

Chapter One: Well This Is Trashy

Farrah woke in a pile of uncooked instant noodles.

The plastic wrapping of the ramen bags was strewn all over the place as far as she could see. All around her, there was darkness, lit up by the occasional lamp or a bit of burning... actually, she didn't want to know what was burning. As she got up, it became obvious that actually standing up would be a problem - the ground was uneven, several parts of it were soft and collapsed beneath her, and sharp objects were littered all around - falling would not be fun. Overall, it just wasn't very humanoid-safe.

Straightening herself, her white hair and her white dress, she began to make her way to a light source. After nearly tripping or stepping in something questionable five times, she picked up a nearby stick and used it for support and testing the ground. -7/10. Filthy and unorganized. Would never visit again.

Finally reaching the light source, Farrah grabbed an old, half-broken chair and pulled it over. Once she had inspected it and declared it clean enough, she sat down and tried to ignore the one leg that was shorter than the others.

It didn't take long for another "survivor" to show up - or well, two of them. Both seemed to be female - at least from a distance.

One girl had long blonde hair dyed pink and navy at the tips, contrasting with her gray hoodie and black top. She was slowly making her way over as well, accompanied by a red-haired curly-girl in a gray shirt and jeggings. Both wore violet-framed glasses that... I would say threw light about, but there wasn't much light to throw about anyway.

"Good morning, afternoon, or whatever time it is," the fiery-haired one said as she finally made it to Farrah. "I don't know. I'd check the sky, but there doesn't seem to be one."

"Yeah, I figured," the other one sighed. "I miss the sky. Wait, have we ever seen the sky?"

"I don't know and I don't care... yet," Farrah replied. "Who are you two? Identify yourselves." After saying those two cursed words, she fell on the floor and promptly passed out from cringe.

"Whaaaa... oh, I'm Rosa. Rosaluma." Adjusting her glasses, the blonde girl looked back at Farrah's unconscious body on the floor. "Nice necklace, by the way. It a bird or something?"

Being unconscious, the girl in white couldn't answer that. The red-haired one bent down at her, shifting her gray T-shirt a little. "I'm Eleanor. You all right down there?"

Farrah gave her a thumbs-up from the floor. "I am alive."

"Okay, good." Eleanor grabbed a pair of headphones, put them over her ears and turned them to full blast. Two seconds later, her eyes glazed over. There was no saving her now.

Rosaluma sighed. "Oh, just great. Farrah, you think we have a way out of here?"

The white-haired girl was silent. "Well... not really. Dunno, we could... uh... find something around here? There's a lot of trash."

"Teleporting trash!" Eleanor suddenly sang out before returning to her music.

"...not a bad idea," Farrah noted. "It might work. Who knows what's in here?" Standing up from her seat, she shuddered at the unevenness of the trash. "I'm not sure if I want to know, either."

• • •

"Oww..." Not that far away from Farrah's group, another girl stirred. She straightened herself into a sitting position, making sure her butterfly wings weren't crushed and that the dictionary she held was still there. Sure enough, her wings seemed fine and her book was in her hands. Her longsword, too, was sheathed and where it was supposed to be. Fixing her glasses, she prepared herself, then jumped into the air and began to flutter one or two feet above the ground.