[ The room is BRIGHT YELLOW, as all the rooms you will enter are. Black tiles make up the floor, changing to your unit's color when pressure is placed on them. There is a button in the very center of the room standing on a podium; it's slightly smaller than palm-sized.]
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no subject
O-okay.
[She's thrown for--
[-- maybe half a second, but here's the catch: she's already living - and moving, and thinking - at four times the speed. By the time her vision starts to blur, she's already at the podium, and by that point it's too late to matter that she can't see a thing. All she has to do is fall over it and, with her whole body to make the hit, she can't miss.
[It hurts a little as it digs into her ribs.]
Sorry--!
[She straightens. Stares blindly ahead.
[Later. She'l let herself feel the guilt of it later.
[She has to survive.]
no subject
She didn't throw the match--that's something she thinks at least when, in a split second, Wednesday has gone from right in front of her to at the button.
... She made a bad opening move, right? That's what it comes down to.
She's scared of what's to come, but she can blame nobody but herself for this failure. And LiliS--
Wednesday doesn't get a response.]