[ hours later, and she's still trying to struggle— not with anywhere near the little energy and focus she'd had at the beginning, but still aimlessly trying to writhe her way out of those chains.
that wearing struggle exhausted her enough that it takes a few moments before she registers the sound of his approach... but when she does, she panics, throwing herself against the binds heedless of the fact that they've squashed her almost violently to the ground already. ]
[ shame somehow still has the ability to both blindside and blind her; she's snarled and thrown herself sideways against the chains again before she can try for any kind of rationality. the familiar haze of unthinking rage is right there; the only thing keeping her from gladly accepting the excuse to stop thinking is the exhaustion making her want to curl up and cry and the fact that it'll make her look no better than a trapped animal. ]
[ again, it takes a moment for her to lift her head to blearily regard him. the sight of the books throws her off badly enough that she ends up staring in blank confusion for several seconds before remembering to be suspicious ]
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that wearing struggle exhausted her enough that it takes a few moments before she registers the sound of his approach... but when she does, she panics, throwing herself against the binds heedless of the fact that they've squashed her almost violently to the ground already. ]
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Kou approaches her fearlessly, still at that sedate pace, kneeling beside her and letting the chains holding her mouth shut slither away.]
And who are you?
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hisses, raw and thick in the back of her throat, and spits at him. it's bloody. ]
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That's some attitude from a trespasser.
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Go to Hell.
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...doesn't matter.
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No.
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How were you poisoned?
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[ congratulations, she's upset enough for some straight answers ]
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[Taking that pretty much in stride.]
I'm not seeing the logic between attempted suicide and breaking into a bookshop.
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I just wanted something else to think about.
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