Happy. Sad. Mad.

Mairu was amazed at how quickly she had gone through those three emotions, and how seamless the transition between the three was. First, she had been incredibly happy to see (in the slightest sense of the word) someone make their way toward her right as she'd finished calling for their attention. One of her friends was coming to greet her! Or so she thought. It took the disproportioned man? woman? thing? standing a few feet from her before she realized that it wasn't one of her friends at all, but the violinist instead. This was when happy became sad. She pouted, thrusting out her lower lip as far out as she could and knitting her eyebrows for extra effect (not that anyone could see). She should've known by the weird, yucky sounds he was making that he? she? it? wasn't a friend.

And now she was mad—not [i]that[/i] kind of mad, the grrr kind.

Mairu had been caught by surprise when pink strings slithered out of the violinist's wrist, and again upon the realization that those pink strings were veins. She made a noise that sounded like a cross between an 'eww' and an 'ooh', reflecting her fascinated disgust, that would then turn into a harrumph as she felt the interesting but gross pink veins coil around her throat. How very rude!

"Hey—" she tried to yell in protest; a mistake, really, because it only made her cough as the veins began to constrict her throat. "You're super mean."

As Mairu discreetly slid her hand into her pocket, reaching for the handy pliers that weighed it down, she had instinctively retreated to her mind palace, the library within her head, to check out some books. The first one she perused was a forensic science book. She leafed through the pages until she found the page on asphyxiation. Causes: drug overdose, [i]no[/i]; drowning, [i]no[/i]; strangling, [i]yes.[/i] With the current force being applied, she would slip out of consciousness within six and a half minutes. Oxygen deprivation would be about three minutes after that. Time of death was variable and very much dependent on the violinist. The next book she read was a simple biology book. She looked at the index to find the page about veins and quickly checked their structure. After that, Mairu gingerly replaced the books back on their metaphorical shelves and took a moment to gather her findings.

Verdict: move quickly, escape its gross veins (try cutting through!), run the hell away.

She was in her mind palace for all of second, and when she had exited it, both hands were already wrapped around the pliers. Mairu extended her short arms as far as they could go and began snapping away at the roots of the vein, putting her all in each snip in hopes that it would stop its suffocation. 

Of course, she could just be angering the violinist, or falling right in his? her? its? trap. If the violinist just wanted her dead, she would have been dead by now. But instead it (ugh, she doesn't care what pronoun to use anymore) acted deliberately. She picked up on the certain wariness in its actions, and she hoped that meant it would tend to a wound immediately before exacting its vengeance on the causer of the wound. All she needed was one quick distracted moment, and she could slip from its grasp and run far far away.

Otherwise, her friends could always help her. Right?