Daisy snorts weakly. "...you stink worse now. Just so you know."
Everyone does. Every mark that reflected the Fears without ever having truly touched them is now ignited and alive the way the marks on those from her own world were and are. Like the plastic wrap's been taken off.
She chuckles at the idea of stinking worse - thinks of a clever joke about perfume, and shelves it. Instead, she nods at what else is said, and Daisy can see it this time.
"You've got a pretty fair team to help your fight. Doesn't matter how long it takes."
"Mm." Her head sags against the mattress, hair a chaotic and incongruous halo. "Hate— hate how it feels like. Being back at step one. Even if I'm— not."
She doesn't sound entirely convinced by the idea she isn't, but she's trying to take Fever's words to heart properly. Turning them over in her head.
"It doesn't help that you could hear it loud as anything in there." Beat. "I passed through it. Not for too long, but I heard it. Felt it. Those who kill, and those who are killed."
It's not the same as living within it, but it had shown her the shadow of the concept. At the time, she had been so consumed with the push to live that she hadn't thought to say anything, but now...
"My own— my own blood. And the blood. And— every heartbeat in the building. And outside."
The line between the rush of her own blood in her skull and the rush of the strange, nebulous Blood is hard to define, but they are separate, one feeding into the other. The connection was stronger, there, with the Hunt so close, could feel every individual that bled into the collective in a way she can't, now (thank god), but it's still there.
She snorts softly at the Phil comment, before her brow furrows and her eyes close as she tries to focus. Tries to listen past the rushing blood, the pounding rhythm of every heartbeat. It really is harder than usual to hear through the noise, but...
"...well, birds. Obviously. Forest— forest noises. Generally." Go beyond that. Further out from the estate and the surrounding forest. "Some— some kid laughing. Lots of chatter. People never shut up. Uh."
Daisy breathes in, and exhales. Tries to keep her attention on the voices. Tries to remember what it means for the world to be alive, not just a Hunting ground.
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Daisy snorts weakly. "...you stink worse now. Just so you know."
Everyone does. Every mark that reflected the Fears without ever having truly touched them is now ignited and alive the way the marks on those from her own world were and are. Like the plastic wrap's been taken off.
"It's— it's hard." Not an argument. Just truth.
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"You've got a pretty fair team to help your fight. Doesn't matter how long it takes."
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"Mm." Her head sags against the mattress, hair a chaotic and incongruous halo. "Hate— hate how it feels like. Being back at step one. Even if I'm— not."
She doesn't sound entirely convinced by the idea she isn't, but she's trying to take Fever's words to heart properly. Turning them over in her head.
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It's not the same as living within it, but it had shown her the shadow of the concept. At the time, she had been so consumed with the push to live that she hadn't thought to say anything, but now...
"What do you hear right now?"
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"My own— my own blood. And the blood. And— every heartbeat in the building. And outside."
The line between the rush of her own blood in her skull and the rush of the strange, nebulous Blood is hard to define, but they are separate, one feeding into the other. The connection was stronger, there, with the Hunt so close, could feel every individual that bled into the collective in a way she can't, now (thank god), but it's still there.
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It's loud, so very, very loud - but is there more? Is there more she can find in the mess? Like sifting through the battlefield for a friend.
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She snorts softly at the Phil comment, before her brow furrows and her eyes close as she tries to focus. Tries to listen past the rushing blood, the pounding rhythm of every heartbeat. It really is harder than usual to hear through the noise, but...
"...well, birds. Obviously. Forest— forest noises. Generally." Go beyond that. Further out from the estate and the surrounding forest. "Some— some kid laughing. Lots of chatter. People never shut up. Uh."
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If there is no quiet to listen to and the blood is loud, listen to something else. Distract the process.
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"N— Normal, mostly? Normal stuff. I think someone just told a bad joke."
Didn't catch the joke, but there's someone laughing and groaning, out there, somewhere.
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No one said it'd be easy, of course, but it might help, just a tiny bit. One handhold against the howling.
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Daisy breathes in, and exhales. Tries to keep her attention on the voices. Tries to remember what it means for the world to be alive, not just a Hunting ground.
"...okay. Yeah. Okay."