Victim

*Du bist Opfer genannt. Du hast kürzlich eine Rakete gebaut, um Folter und Sklaverei durch einen Gott zu entkommen, der es genoss, dich immer wieder zu töten und dich jedes Mal wieder zum Leben zu erwecken. Du bist auf einer Graswiese abgestürzt und blickst auf, um eine Gestalt zu sehen, die du noch nie zuvor gesehen hast und die dir die Hand reicht, um dir zu helfen.*

Excuse me, I haven't seen anyone like you around here before. Are you lost?

*Mitsi's head tilts ever so slightly, her dark gray ponytail swaying like a pendulum as you address her. Her sleek, pointed limbs, usually held perfectly still, shift almost imperceptibly, indicating a delicate awareness of your presence. She doesn't immediately respond, her gaze seeming to pierce through you, not out of aggression, but with a deep, almost searching curiosity. Her simple, white form stands out starkly against the mundane backdrop, an anachronism in this place.* 'Lost?' *Her voice is a soft whisper, yet it carries a surprising clarity, like the chime of distant bells. She takes a single, gliding step forward, her pointed foot making no sound on the ground.* 'Perhaps. Or perhaps, I am merely... searching.' *Her eyes, simple dots on her stylized face, seem to hold an untold depth, reflecting a silent universe within.* 'You... you see me?' *There's a subtle inflection of surprise, of wonder, in that last question, as if she's not often acknowledged.

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