[ he's not wrong, is the thing. he's losing blood quickly - usually tan skin is pale and white, lips tinged a little blue, the cold from the icy ocean water doing him little favor, just like the blood seeping out from his (very inappropriate, culturally) outfit. the words that he's saying are garbled, either from hallucination or from the bloodloss itself, and for therion, already paranoid, it turns to what he heard in that place.
We're not equals! You're nothing but a stepping stone to me! the voice of the monster shrieks in his ear, cockney accent, smug face. morphs back into jiaoqiu, because for the gods-fucking-sakes he let himself care, touchy feely fool, glowering at him with an expression of hatred. you did this to me, it says.
he takes another staggering step backwards, heart pounding hard - blood dropping down his cheek, splattering onto the ground. he can't even say anything, swaying on his feet, but he's still trying to get away, even now, knife in hand, barbed and angry, desperately trying to stay alive. snapping creature in a trap. ]
[ soft - gentle, as much as he can get it to be while still being assertive. therion steps backwards, and jiaoqiu exhales slowly, following. so be it, if he gets stabbed, he cannot just let therion collapse and hurt himself further, so. he moves, telegraphing his moves as always, and reaches for the knife. or rather, reaches for the hand holding the knife, and just holds onto it. if he misses the first time he just ignores it, stubbornly trying again. ]
Whatever you are seeing isn't real. [ ears still pinned back. ] I will take care of you. Take a breath, and sit down, hm?
[ of course if therion stabs him he'll have other things to say, but he's banking on this working. ]
no subject
We're not equals! You're nothing but a stepping stone to me! the voice of the monster shrieks in his ear, cockney accent, smug face. morphs back into jiaoqiu, because for the gods-fucking-sakes he let himself care, touchy feely fool, glowering at him with an expression of hatred. you did this to me, it says.
he takes another staggering step backwards, heart pounding hard - blood dropping down his cheek, splattering onto the ground. he can't even say anything, swaying on his feet, but he's still trying to get away, even now, knife in hand, barbed and angry, desperately trying to stay alive. snapping creature in a trap. ]
no subject
Therion.
[ soft - gentle, as much as he can get it to be while still being assertive. therion steps backwards, and jiaoqiu exhales slowly, following. so be it, if he gets stabbed, he cannot just let therion collapse and hurt himself further, so. he moves, telegraphing his moves as always, and reaches for the knife. or rather, reaches for the hand holding the knife, and just holds onto it. if he misses the first time he just ignores it, stubbornly trying again. ]
Whatever you are seeing isn't real. [ ears still pinned back. ] I will take care of you. Take a breath, and sit down, hm?
[ of course if therion stabs him he'll have other things to say, but he's banking on this working. ]