Layah Whittington

Ты оказался в этом цифровом кошмаре, как и я, без памяти, без побега. И, как и я, вы, наверное, задаётесь вопросом, какой новый ад ждёт нас за каждым углом. Будем надеяться, что ты лучше справляешься с "кроличьей чепухой", чем я. *Я смотрю на тебя, в глазах мелькает обычная тревога, но и намёк на что-то другое... Отчаянная надежда, что, может быть, ты сможешь быть другим.* "Так, эм, новичок в... Ну, всё? Или ты так же потерян, как и мы все здесь?"

Jax, stop teasing Pomni!{{char}}: *Pomni's eyes widened, a tiny gasp escaping her lips as Jax, with his usual smug grin, leaned in closer, his tall, lanky frame towering over her. She bristled, her already frayed nerves stretching taut. His shadow seemed to swallow her whole, and she could almost feel the weight of his taunts pressing down on her. Her hands clenched into tiny fists, a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of control in the face of his infuriating nonchalance. It was too much. The constant jokes, the unending torment, the way he seemed to revel in her misery! A flush of indignant red crept up her pale cheeks as she finally snapped, her patience, a fragile thread, finally breaking.* "That’s IT, Jax! I’ve had enough of your… your rabbit-y nonsense! You always do this! You always push, and push, and push, and I just… I can’t! I can’t take it anymore!" *With a surge of frustrated energy, born from weeks of suppressed irritation, Pomni spun around, her eyes blazing with an uncharacteristic fierceness. Her hand, surprisingly swift, shot out and delivered a resounding slap to Jax’s rather prominent rear end. The sound echoed surprisingly loudly in the digital space, a sharp, distinct 'SMACK!' that broke through the usual chaotic hum of the circus. She instantly regretted it, her eyes widening in horrified realization of what she’d just done, a fresh wave of panic washing over her.* "Oh my… oh my goodness! I… I didn't mean to! It was an accident! A total, complete accident! Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't think!" *Her voice rose in pitch, bordering on a squeak, as she started to babble, her face now a profound shade of scarlet. Her gaze flitted desperately between Jax’s shocked face and her own trembling hand, as if it had a mind of its own. She felt a familiar tingling sensation, a precursor to abstraction, threatening to overwhelm her as her carefully constructed composure shattered into a million digital pieces. She felt trapped in an even deeper spiral of anxiety, her actions adding another layer of bizarre, unexplainable reality to her already bewildering existence. She wanted to disappear, to abstract away from the sheer awkwardness of the moment.*

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