[She doesn't make any fuss as Alex lays her on the ground, though she does have to be coaxed to release her death grip on the rope around her neck so Beaky can work on taking it off. Perhaps thankfully for Alex, the injuries from the rope look...strange. Convincing when Sayori is still, but with her frightened trembling, something is obviously off about them, like a projection on an uneven wall.
It hurts, but is it real? Debatable. The one saving grace of the subjective reality of these memories.
The room pulses like a heartbeat.
The scratches are real, though, not long but fairly deep. Sayori tries not to look at her own bloody hands, tries to just focus on the comforting touch against her forehead. Her breaths are hitching and uneven, like trying to swallow fire. It's not long before the tears begin to flow in earnest.
Unable to find words just yet, she simply squeezes her eyes shut and nods.]
no subject
It hurts, but is it real? Debatable. The one saving grace of the subjective reality of these memories.
The room pulses like a heartbeat.
The scratches are real, though, not long but fairly deep. Sayori tries not to look at her own bloody hands, tries to just focus on the comforting touch against her forehead. Her breaths are hitching and uneven, like trying to swallow fire. It's not long before the tears begin to flow in earnest.
Unable to find words just yet, she simply squeezes her eyes shut and nods.]