[As much as he had planned to go back to the mall the next day, things had… escalated quickly. Verso’s barely had time to return and prepare for another trip by the time the mannequin has begun to sound like him. And his own body begins to feel stiff in the joints; not a good sign, but he trudges forward all the same.

He ignores the fact that it begins to even look like him, move like him. By the time morning rolls around, no matter where Verso goes, the damn thing trails behind like a shade, finding strangers and saying cruel things, vulnerable things. Things like:

Hey friend. Why don’t you do me a favor and kill me? It’d be a nice change of pace. or Why bother trusting someone like me? Everything’s always wrapped up in a pretty lie—]

Stop it.

[Verso tries to summon enough Chroma to use as a projectile to knock the thing over, but the gesture is halted mid-cast, as though he has no control over his own actions. It’s clear he’s not having a good time with any of this.]

[It reaches the point where he feels like he can barely move, and summoning his sword does little to aid him when he can’t even swing it at his mannequin. Find Verso struggling, practically on his knees, continuing to try anyway.

By now, the news of the fire ridding someone of their mannequins—perhaps painfully—has reached his ears, and it isn’t a stretch to connect why he thinks his blade specifically might help with this issue. It’s imbued with fire, flames licking along the steel as… it clatters to the ground, Verso dropping it in this painful state.]

Aha… putain. A little help, please?

[PLEEK. HELP]