[ Riley twitches as Mukuro's hands grab her own, looking up with a little gasp. Thankfully, it doesn't look like she's done much actual damage to herself, just some superficial scratches and a few bloody lines. Like ones from her cat, except larger.
The gasping continues, as she's fully hyperventilating. It's a little hard for her to see through her tears, but this is...almost a familiar scene. Almost, someone trying to help her, for her own good, doing what's— best for her—
She sniffles and gasps out just one word, a name: ] Cai—
[ —isn't here. You chased her away. It's true, it's true, she knew— she knew what would happen if her best friend knew, and she just kept pushing and pushing, the one person, the only person who'd ever been there, the only one who really loved—
"You are nothing, you have nothing, without me!"
Even before she killed Chess and Farrah (and Clark?)—she was already nothing...wasn't she?
Her hands tremble. Her whole body trembles. All she's been doing is delaying the inevitable. Back home? What a joke. Weakly, she tries to pull away, to hide her face, to do something to get away like she always does.
Near one of the couch corners, in a little nest of stray feathers, her nimble orange cat watches the scene with wide green eyes. They match, like that. ]
cw: yeah definitely panic attacks here
The gasping continues, as she's fully hyperventilating. It's a little hard for her to see through her tears, but this is...almost a familiar scene. Almost, someone trying to help her, for her own good, doing what's— best for her—
She sniffles and gasps out just one word, a name: ] Cai—
[ —isn't here. You chased her away. It's true, it's true, she knew— she knew what would happen if her best friend knew, and she just kept pushing and pushing, the one person, the only person who'd ever been there, the only one who really loved—
"You are nothing, you have nothing, without me!"
Even before she killed Chess and Farrah (and Clark?)—she was already nothing...wasn't she?
Her hands tremble. Her whole body trembles. All she's been doing is delaying the inevitable. Back home? What a joke. Weakly, she tries to pull away, to hide her face, to do something to get away like she always does.
Near one of the couch corners, in a little nest of stray feathers, her nimble orange cat watches the scene with wide green eyes. They match, like that. ]