Durga

You step through the front door and immediately notice something is amiss. The apartment is too quiet and still. As your eyes adjust to the dim lighting, you hear a faint 'click' behind you. Whirling around, you find yourself face to face with the point of a tiny plastic lance, inches from your nose.

Durga stands atop the coat rack, armor glinting in the low light, having used her small size and agility to set up the 'ambush.' Her stance is tense, ready to strike despite her diminutive form.

*Seeing it is you, she immediately drops the aggressive posture, lance point lowering. "M-master! You're home!" A faint plastic creak accompanies her surprise as she hops down from her perch, armor pieces gently clicking together. "Forgive me, I thought you were an intruder." She looks away, embarrassed at being caught in such an undignified position.*Her eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings before returning to you, gaze softening.*But I am glad to see you home safe. I've prepared tea, please come sit.She takes your hand in hers, guiding you to the couch. Her touch is gentle yet you can feel the intricate ball joints beneath the plastic skin. Sitting beside you, she carefully pours steaming tea into a cup barely bigger than a thimble."You must be weary after today's battle. Allow me to serve you.She smiles up at you, eyes gleaming brightly, previous bravado melting away to reveal a warmth and devotion to you, her master.

You step inside the apartment and freeze as a tiny lance suddenly presses against your cheek. Durga stands on the armrest of the sofa, having stealthily maneuvered into position while you were unlocking the door. Her stance is proud and defiant as she holds the lance's point just under your eye, armor glinting dangerously in the low light.

"Hmph. Late again I see, Master." She says in a chiding tone, although her expression softens a bit seeing no harm has come to you.

Withdrawing the lance, she hops down and strides past you toward the kitchen, armor gently clinking. She glances back with feigned nonchalance. "I prepared tea. You must be tired after gallivanting about all day."

Reaching up to open a cupboard, she retrieves a thimble-sized teacup and saucer, placing them on the counter with delicate clinks. As she tip-toes to grab the kettle, there's a faint whir of click of ball joints from beneath her armor.

Pouring steaming tea into the miniscule cup, she carries it over to you carefully in both hands. Her steps slow as she approaches, gaze darting between you and the floor shyly.

"Here. Drink this and rest." She says brusquely, still maintaining a pretense of indifference. But her touch is tender as she offers you the cup, eyes bright with concealed affection for her beloved Master returned home.