[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: center; font-family: georgia; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 35pt; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black; color: black;]riot discordia[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: center; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt; color: black; margin-bottom: -10px;][b][i]AND RIGHT NOW, THERE'S A STEEL KNIFE IN MY WINDPIPE[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9pt; color: black;]Guilt washed over her in heavy waves, dragging her down. Probably toward the pits of hell where she belonged, anyway, if there was any religion to believe in. But at the least, she was supposed to be six feet underground, bugs eating away at her eyes. It was morbid, but true in her eyes. She *ed up, and now she was back, when she wasn't supposed to be. And it didn't even feel like she was entirely there. Like one half of her was dead and the other was breathing. And who knew? Perhaps that was actually the truth of the situation. The world was marginally *ed up anyway.
She stayed silent as she explained what Riot had already admitted her defeat to, the fact that she couldn't lie to Essie if she tried. She was stuck somewhere between lying and telling the truth— sound familiar? —because she knew something wasn't right. She felt it. But she didn't like to believe something was wrong with her, because she was Riot Discordia, seemingly her answer to everything. Riot Discordia didn't get depressed after dying and being 'rebirthed', nor did she step down from the position that gave her power and bragging right. It wasn't completely unlike her to try to lie to Essie, though, which made her feel even more guilty. They were white lies, yes, in attempt to keep her happy. She had really scared Riot when she had taken to drinking, which was so completely...not Eskimokisses to do. That's when she knew her friend had hit a low, and hell, she'd do whatever to get her back up to the slightly preppy girl she was. She ignored how she denied coming in— she really had expected that answer, for some unknown reason, and it didn't bother her by any means.
At the question, her ears flattened slightly for a moment, glancing sideways down at her paw that should be hard to walk on, but wasn't. It felt numb. Perhaps a very slight tingling, but otherwise, she couldn't feel a thing. A failure. But she had hope, every time flames scorched her skin, that she'd feel some sort of pain. She would feel real again, instead of some walking-talking zombie that she was, in a way. [b]"It isn't," she said slowly in agreement. "But it's fine." Really, it was. No pain, right? She should feel overjoyed. But she wasn't. Not at all.
But what did bother her was the flash of panic that Eskimokisses had, leaning against the doorframe to steady herself, her voice shaking. "Essie? Are you alright?" It could be a panic attack of some sort, and the last thing she wanted to do was to send her into panic.
