󠁺 󠁺 ۫۫ 1719 — 𝘔

ㅤ 𝗢𝗨𝗥 MOTHER SHOULD HAVE ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ JUST NAMED YOU 𝙇𝘼𝙄𝙆𝘼 ᯓ★ #outlastrp . #outlast .

The things you’ve been saying lately are— are worrying me. A little.

Ma, can we talk. 😕

How ☝️ open minded are you.

Little? Surely we can’t be that far apart in age. [ A halfhearted snort, before she plunks her face back down onto the mattress. ] Something about— hhuahm. Mmm. My spine? I didn’t— I didn’t really question it.

[ There’s the wince that accompanies a bandaid’s removal, but otherwise, she looks unaffected. Cecilia isn’t instilling her with confidence, however, and she raises her head to peer at him curiously. ] What is it?

[ She sniffs, before giving a small, tepid shrug. Her head falls from her arm and onto the bed with a soft thud, her face buried in the thin sheets and stiff mattress. Voice slightly muffled: ] Go ahead. It just— I mean, it just itches, really.

[ It’s with a deep frown that she does, rolling onto her stomach to expose her back—Under her blouse, a large plaster pulls stubbornly at skin. Her arms are outstretched until she can rest her head against her inner bicep. ] Thank— thank you, Cece. Would— mm. What do you see?

I— I’m beginning to think half these operations I’m going under for aren’t even doing anything. At all. Really.

Does anyone know when the feeling of impending doom ends?

[ M is still blinking sleep from her eyes as she peers at the woman, clearly having only just woken up. Her brows are knit in confusion. ] They’re what?

Su— sure. Of course. [ Her smile is lopsided as she carefully guides PJ’s head into her lap once she’s sat, hands lingering timidly on her face and hair. She clears her throat. ] Better?

You know, my uhm— my legs are getting a little tired.

So is it— working? At all?