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fire & brimstone.

i.

She's got blisters the size of coins on her palm, hidden in curled fists under the table. The only thing keeping her from gritting her teeth from the pain is the satisfaction she knows the grinning figures seated across from her would get of her playing with fire.
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Who is she? If you were to listen to them, the Devil clothed in flesh.

ii.

"What are you doing?" He's standing uncomfortably close to her shoulder, such that she curls it tighter over her desk to get away. She hadn't heard his cat-light footsteps, perhaps learned from his familiar. It's always this question -- doing. Never creating. The summoning book she's supposed to be studying hasn't even had its spine cracked, while the maths book is opened to chapter eleven. As he always reminds her, there is no honour in the mundane.
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"I'm making a gyroscope," she says defensively, parts hidden under her cupped hands. At least, she's trying to, with little luck, but she's still secretly impressed with her progress despite a lack of proper equipment.
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"A what?" he asks incredulously, and he picks up the maths book roughly, ignoring her grab for it. Hardly a glance later, he snorts and slams it shut, tucking it under his arm.
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"No one needs this," he says, and suddenly his arm is sweeping across the surface, tools and parts clattering half to the floor, half into the trash. "Honestly, Liang-Shu, what did I do to deserve such a worthless child?"
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She almost gets away with no tears, but a few sly ones slide down her cheek as she bends down to pick up what used to be an exceptionally clever machine. She is exceptionally clever. Even if no one else can see, she comforts herself in that knowing.

iii.