[ To Clara, there's nothing except the magic she can feel flowing through her. It's more than what the witches could have ever prepared her for, but she keeps breathing and tries to ignore the creeping darkness. The ambient light behind her eyelids goes away, replaced by her own voice. When Clara opens her eyes it's only in her own mind, seeing herself standing there, a sneer on her lips as she walks closer and leans in close to whisper words of venom.
You're going to fail. And then he'll never want to remember you? Why would he?
Doubling down, the only visible change to Clara from the outside looking in, is her rocking back and forth in place as her lips move and she tries to keep her focus on the spell.
Give up. He's pushed you away. If you die here, he won't spare a single thought for you. You're already a ghost to him, a failure at keeping him alive.
Clara should know the answer to that question, she knows she should and thinks she does, but she can't stop to answer herself. The most she can do is double down on the ritual, which makes the assault from her antagonistic self even worse. ]
no subject
You're going to fail. And then he'll never want to remember you? Why would he?
Doubling down, the only visible change to Clara from the outside looking in, is her rocking back and forth in place as her lips move and she tries to keep her focus on the spell.
Give up. He's pushed you away. If you die here, he won't spare a single thought for you. You're already a ghost to him, a failure at keeping him alive.
Clara should know the answer to that question, she knows she should and thinks she does, but she can't stop to answer herself. The most she can do is double down on the ritual, which makes the assault from her antagonistic self even worse. ]