Ju Fufu, this name falls lightly in front of my eyes, like a yellowed old photo, reflecting mottled light and shadow, with endless loneliness and tenderness. Her skills are like her life, gorgeous but with helpless cruelty, just like those women wandering in the prosperous world, elegant but may be severely knocked down by fate at any time.
Her ordinary attack is the kind of delicate and harsh knock, like a few gentle pokes in the heart, but it is painful. There are no grand fireworks, only a few scars, which belong to the joys and sorrows of the little people. Her every move is soaked in the heat and cold of fire, as if burning herself with flames and stabbing others with wounds.
Dodging is not an easy and elegant turn, but a struggle with a bit of powerlessness. What she avoids is the invisible shackles, the web woven by desires, vanity and scheming. Every dodge is a painful interpretation of compromise with life, but it also implies a desire for freedom, just like the kind of people who keep wandering in the world but can’t find a home.
Her special skills and joint skills are metaphors for the subtle relationship between people. She wields the popcorn pot, that absurd but real weapon, as if it is a protective shield she uses to fight loneliness and desolation. The jumping flames reflect the unspeakable loneliness and helplessness deep in her heart, and also illuminate those neglected emotional details.
In the core skills, the setting of the popcorn pot to automatically attack on the battlefield is like the traces left by people in life. Although silent, it constantly affects the surroundings. The accumulation of heat is just like her suppressed emotions and unknown thoughts. As time goes by, it gradually accumulates into an inescapable burden.
In the fiery rotation state, she is both a hunter and a prey, just like those women in the whirlpool of emotions, who want to break free but are tightly entangled by the flames of emotions. Every time she attacks, she is testing her own limits and resisting fate.
The parrying and counterattack in the support skills are very similar to her contradictory psychology in interpersonal relationships, wanting to get close but afraid of getting hurt. Her additional attacks with the popcorn pot are a counterattack against those injuries, but with a bit of helplessness and sadness. Her invincible moments are like the moments when she pretends to be strong in front of others, covering up her inner fragility and fear.
In the imagery, the extra abilities and attack boosts given to her are not only the enhancement of skills, but also more like compensation for the injustice of fate to her. Her heat and flames have become her sharpest weapons and her biggest burden.
In her story, there is no aura of heroes, no legendary battles, only struggles and pains in ordinary life. She is very similar to those ordinary people who are overwhelmed by reality but still insist on living. Her flame is the last warmth in her heart, and it is the persistence and unwillingness to give up on life.
Every time a skill is activated, it is like a monologue of the soul, telling of her inner loneliness and strength. Her flame is both gentle and cruel, protecting and hurting. Her fight is a dialogue with fate, a resistance to reality, and an expectation for the future.
The image of Ju Fufu is filled with a touch of sadness and helplessness, but also full of the complexity and depth of human nature. Her flame, like a firework, blooms beautifully but briefly, illuminating the darkness, and will eventually return to silence.
Such a woman is distressing, but people can’t look away. She interprets the impermanence of life and the subtlety of human nature in her own way, like a low-pitched poem, penetrating the illusion of prosperity and reaching the depths of the soul.