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[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=SILVER][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]Formal Homecoming[/I] - [I]A.R.C., Pacific Royal Campus[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=SILVER][b]Dance Monkey #4.093:[/b][/COLOR] [I]I Know the End[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][color=SILVER][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] [I]Manny Blaylock [@Festive] & Lucas Bray [@Nemaisare]-[sub]-[/sub] [/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=SILVER][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Soliloquy
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The force of emotions hit Cleo like a kick in the chest. A murder of crows that burst forth from the tempest, each one carrying a shard of torment—hopelessness, grief, anger, rage, despair. Despite the song that wove itself through the storm of emotion, threading hope; it could not mask the presence that was about to be felt.

A darkness. Cleo could feel it pulling her in, its gravity stronger than anything she'd ever known. A storm of emotional transference that carved through her psionic energy and gave an unwanted glimpse of a place where even chaos dared not dwell. It was still. It was quiet. And it was endless. Death's cold grip, opening the door. It pulled her further, stretching her connection to the breaking point. She reached out, trying to hold on, manipulating the energy as best she could against the current, but it was too much. She was severed from Amma—violently, cleanly, and too suddenly to stop it. 

Her chest heaved with the shock of it and she was back in the ARC, the floor beneath her knees, but her mind still swam in the ink black darkness of what had been felt. Cleo froze, her entire being trembling with the weight of it. The connection had slipped, had broken, and now everything bled into her at once—Amma’s grief, her rage, the darkness, and then the screaming silence. It rushed through Cleo. She could still feel it, a yawning chasm with an indescribable hunger.

And then—nothing.

Suddenly, arms wrapped around her; strong, pulling her away from it all. Manny. His presence was an anchor. She clung to him and her bloodied and gloved hands gripped at his jacket. Her touch cloying, as if she feared he would disappear and in his absence the terror would come back. 

Manny’s steady voice was a lifeline, his concern pulling her away from the brink, into the here and now. Cleo nodded, shook her head, then nodded again. Uncertain. Her thoughts still caught somewhere between the horror she had touched and her friend holding her. She pulled away, slowly, her hands moving to her chest; rubbing over her heart, trying to calm the frantic rhythm, trying to ground herself. Over and over, her hand moved in the shape of their signal. Over and over and over.

[color=#94b9ff]“I’m sorry,”[/color] she whispered, her voice small, lost. She looked up at him - and then to Lucas. Her pupils were wide, swallowing the colour of her eyes, reflecting back the same emptiness she had just herself seen. She didn’t even know who she was apologising to. To Manny? To Lucas? To Amma? To herself?

[color=#94b9ff]“I really did try…”[/color]

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