Everything hurts. Kromer's body is covered in lacerations, glass embedded into her back, her clothing uncomfortably wet, and a difficulty staying balanced. All due to Kromer's nice anons working their hardest to make Kromer have a bad day. All due to a prescript Kromer still grips within her hand.
Kromer is quite used to being disliked. She is used to being hurt-- used to being targeted.
And... Kromer knows everything that is currently happening to her is due to her own requests. Kromer is the one who asked for her anons to help her have the worst day possible.
But tears still fall.
Something hurts deep within Kromer's soul. A betrayal, a yearning, a hopelessness.
Curled within a ball, Kromer lets herself sob. This truly is a terrible day. A feeling of isolation that Kromer thought she's gotten over still weighs in her heart. Kromer always thought she would be fine if she wasn't loved-- if she was just a tool.... But the companionship that Kromer has found only leaves her desperately craving for more. Now that it's been gone for a mere day... Kromer has felt like she's lost something she never knew she valued.
The world around the 11th Sinner dulls, the woman clings to herself as sobs leave her. There are faint noises... Faint touches, that Kromer doesn't quite bother to register. She's within her own room, nobody but Jane Doe can get in without an invitation.
Kromer is all alone.
And then multiple things shift around Kromer at once. The faint thought registers to Kromer that the noise of breaking glass could mean another window is about to be embedded in her skin once more. There is a brief tense as someone surprises Kromer by speaking.
"How pretty, this garden of mine. How... Vivid, indeed." A soft yet garbled voice cackles to Kromer's left as the woman shifts to look at the intruder within her room. A man tied to two posts by many vines. The scene is graphic. And then... Kromer realizes that the creature in front of her is a corrosion.
Another thing to make her day worse.... How unfortunate.
Kromer desperately tries to back away from the corrosion, a startled whimper leaves the woman.
And then a hand lands on her head, leaving behind soot in the wake of its touch.
"There, there..."
Another distorted voice, this one is of a young woman. And... When Kromer looks behind herself she is met with a woman Kromer's age made of ash.
Another corrosion.
The two corrosions together. The woman finally gathers herself enough to form complete thoughts, the situation around her settling in as Kromer takes more time to recognize what is happening.
This is Don Quixote and Dongbaek. They are going to kill her and then both feel terrible about it. Don Quixote and Dongbaek will start to avoid her and.... It'll all be Kromer's fault.
More tears slip from Kromer's eyes as she comes to terms that this simple bad day will have longer consequences. This is too far. Kromer's breathing starts to pick up in pace before a hand is thrust into Kromer's face.
"...You... Look like you've... Lost your way." Kromer's face lifts to the owner of the hand, and her eyes meet Sinclair's. A corrosion of a fairy. A fairy that is both buglike and plantlike in nature. Large branches twist around Sinclair's limbs as they tilt their head at the woman. "...As if someone played.... An awful prank upon you... Ahhh... You could really use a guide now, couldn't you?"
The voice is every bit as ethereal and corroded as its owner currently appears. But... There's no kind of anger or violence in the corrosion's many eyes.
Only kindness.
Kindness. Something Kromer frequently associates with the Sinclair of the main bus. Someone Kromer can truly look up to and grow from. And... Sinclair isn't even attacking Kromer while in a corrosion.
Actually.... Nobody is.
Kromer hasn't been drained for all of her blood. Kromer hasn't been burned alive or exploded.
But... None of the corrosions around the 11th Swap Sinner appear to want her dead.
Kromer very gently sets her hand within Sinclair's, a pathetic sniffle leaves the woman as she so desperately tries to calm herself into a more acceptable appearance.
The attempt only makes her cry more. How pathetic.
