I was going, Mother, to pick roses, to find death

MaeA This... could not have gone any worse. The reaction Jigano just gave was the very one Maea had been afraid of, what she had sought to avoid by bringing Sunjata along. It seemed the Provost was right; she did not know him as well as she thought. And after this tirade? She started to question if she even knew herself. If what Jigano saw when he looked at her was the true version, and the girl she saw in the mirror was just... some mirage. An illusion conjured by her own mind to protect her from reality. In the end, she could not bring herself to speak up at all. Not even as they began to talk over her head, Sunjata as protective as Jigano felt dismissive. She felt like a piece on a checker board, about to be moved without a chance to speak, a moment to think... But at least Jigano offered her that. Time. And to that she managed a mute nod, a wordless promise to think on this, to consider all the implications of everything that had gone wrong here. Then the silver-haired man left, and Maea slumped down deep into her chair, bringing the arms up over her head. "I'm so sorry," she said hoarsely to Sunjata, closing her eyes tight. "This... did not go as I had hoped." Way to state the obvious, girl. ---- - Maea fin! you're so cold, but you feel alive.