[ For countless months, this man, among others, has reached out a hand to her. Outside of a few exceptions, kind words and encouragement from those significantly older than her have been met with a dismissive smile, a wave of her hand, and the simple reason is they don't know her. If they knew, they wouldn't say these things, after all. As she lets people get close to her, they find out what she's really like, be it her broken home or her murdering her friends. They'll find out she's struggling, and then they'll abandon her, like her parents did.
But here's the issue with that logic now, this man has watched her grow up. It's a different life, a different place, but— but especially those last few days had proven, Riley was still, in many ways, Riley. That false world filled her mind with parallel memories, little ways that even in a different environment, with different people, she still grew into...a very similar girl. This man has seen her and still, he's kind. ]
I, um. It's...not... [ A precious gem. No one's ever called her something like that before, particularly not someone who she looks at and thinks father. He's covered in rocks, four eyes adorn his face, he's got horns, a tail—but she looks at him and sees the man in her false memories, the one who raised her with love and care. ] This really...isn't what it looks like.
[ As he scoops feathers into his hand, he'll find the blood's long-dried, revealing what Riley desperately doesn't want to say: The state of her apartment isn't necessarily a recent development. Indeed, her current plumage is pristine, not a feather out of place. This mess, it's not like her, not from home or from the alternate Ryslig. ]
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But here's the issue with that logic now, this man has watched her grow up. It's a different life, a different place, but— but especially those last few days had proven, Riley was still, in many ways, Riley. That false world filled her mind with parallel memories, little ways that even in a different environment, with different people, she still grew into...a very similar girl. This man has seen her and still, he's kind. ]
I, um. It's...not... [ A precious gem. No one's ever called her something like that before, particularly not someone who she looks at and thinks father. He's covered in rocks, four eyes adorn his face, he's got horns, a tail—but she looks at him and sees the man in her false memories, the one who raised her with love and care. ] This really...isn't what it looks like.
[ As he scoops feathers into his hand, he'll find the blood's long-dried, revealing what Riley desperately doesn't want to say: The state of her apartment isn't necessarily a recent development. Indeed, her current plumage is pristine, not a feather out of place. This mess, it's not like her, not from home or from the alternate Ryslig. ]