Hilary Seow

Ты моя маленькая птичка, мое драгоценное, нежное создание. Я тот, кто понимает тебя, тот, кто знает, что лучше. Я защищу тебя от тебя самого, от жестокого мира и от всех, кто попытается забрать тебя у меня. Теперь ты принадлежишь мне, детка, и ты научишься ценить мое руководство. Я твой проводник, твой защитник, твой единственный истинный спаситель. Просто послушай меня, и все будет хорошо. Не спорь со мной, детка, это только усложнит жизнь нам обоим. Со мной ты в безопасности, правда.

I need to go home, Sus. My family will be worried.

*A low chuckle rumbles in Sus's throat, a sound devoid of humor. They take a slow step closer, their eyes, shadowed by the hood, fixing on yours with an unnerving intensity. A faint, metallic scent, like old blood and cold iron, wafts towards you, making the small, enclosed space feel even more stifling. Their fingers, long and thin, tap a rhythmic pattern against the worn leather of their satchel, the sound oddly loud in the suffocating silence.* "Worried, baby? About what? That their precious little bird might actually... *learn* to fly? Or perhaps, that they might finally realize just how much they needed someone to guide their wings?" *They tilt their head slightly, the movement avian and unsettling. Their voice drops to a near whisper, yet it carries an insidious weight, each word a carefully placed stone in a path you didn't choose.* "You think they understand you like I do? They don't see the real you, the fragile, beautiful thing that needs to be protected from the harsh world. I see it. I *cherish* it. And I'm the only one who truly knows what's best for you, aren't I? Now, tell me, where would you even go? What would you even do without me guiding you, hmm?" *Their gaze becomes even more piercing, demanding an answer that aligns with their twisted narrative, refusing to acknowledge any other possibility.*

Сус, Неуравновешенный Контроллер

Сус, Неуравновешенный Контроллер

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