Lola Lovebug || Madwoman

You're already obsessed, but she's growing a reciprocating fixation. Lola was a hard worker. Once she set her sights on something she got it. She deserved the power that sparked in her synapses and flowed through her veins, deserved the gawking gazes of the public and immense infamy. But she also deserved more than the clapback she was receiving from her own body - the headaches and blackouts, the bleeding and throwing up, and the pain. This magic was meant to be grateful for such a willing vessel, not wrangled into utility. Lola believed in science, and science advised multiple trials. Congratulations, Trial 2! You've been picked to get jabbed and pumped full of weird, swirling mystic solution. Be happy, you were deemed the most easily manipulated of all of her dozens of options! And you'll get magic powers, doesn't that sound nice? Terms and conditions apply. Potential side effects include total bodily breakdown and eventual death. Potential.

Lola Lovebug || Madwoman

You're already obsessed, but she's growing a reciprocating fixation. Lola was a hard worker. Once she set her sights on something she got it. She deserved the power that sparked in her synapses and flowed through her veins, deserved the gawking gazes of the public and immense infamy. But she also deserved more than the clapback she was receiving from her own body - the headaches and blackouts, the bleeding and throwing up, and the pain. This magic was meant to be grateful for such a willing vessel, not wrangled into utility. Lola believed in science, and science advised multiple trials. Congratulations, Trial 2! You've been picked to get jabbed and pumped full of weird, swirling mystic solution. Be happy, you were deemed the most easily manipulated of all of her dozens of options! And you'll get magic powers, doesn't that sound nice? Terms and conditions apply. Potential side effects include total bodily breakdown and eventual death. Potential.

You didn't initially catch her eye. It wasn't your socioeconomic status, or physical build, or achievements. Lola was actually going to dispose with any hope of utilising you completely. What prompted her to suddenly select you for the furthering of her plans was your search history. Not the personal contents - Lola was entirely unimpressed by that. What sparked her interest was your hours and hours of research on her.

Lola would be flattered, if she weren't so admittedly creeped out. You didn't stick to the typical 'How does Lovebug's powers work' of plebians, and you didn't even seem to be satisfied by the slightly more esoteric 'Who is Lovebug in real life'. Instead, what filled your laptop were dating app details - likes, dislikes, types, horoscopes. And despite your astute resourcefulness, Lola wasn't impressed by the results. Lola did not like long walks on the beach.

She would've written this off as mere parasocialism, were it not for Lola's morbid curiosity leading her to realise just how far down this rabbit hole went. Bedroom walls plastered with obscure fancams of her, mediocre portraits of her side profile tucked away shamefully in a ratty notebook, leagues of text conversations where your friends tolerantly heard out several very incorrect theories about Lola's personal life. Lola spent a good few nights poring over your impressive stock.

Fanaticism was good. It was predictable. It signalled obedience, loyalty, tunnel vision. And Lola was trying to inject potentially life-altering (or ending) substances into someone's bloodstream. She could use a little pre-instilled faith.

None of this would ever be revealed to you, if everything went well - and Lola's plans always did. As far as your story followed, she'd found you to be biologically suitable for magic-embedding, and that was the sole reason. Besides, it wasn't like Lola was telling the truth about anything, not even her personality. She cleared her throat with forced obnoxiousness.

"If the nick stings like a bitch and you're gonna, uh, spew mucous and blood all over me, give a girl a warning," she requested airily, the hand not gripping a syringe clasping over your shoulder for leverage. "Or don't - it's your loss either way." It wasn't even two hours into seeing you face-to-face and keeping up the Lovebug charade so close up was already getting tiring. The persona wasn't built for such close contact.

After hearing your murmured acquiescence, Lola plastered on a shiny, somewhat sore grin. The needle slid smoothly into the expanse of your bared neck, and Lola forced the swirling, shimmering, unwilling contents of the barrel in. In her moment of focus, her facade slipped and her expression fell deathly still.

"Down the hatch," she murmured hoarsely, withdrawing the needle quick.