[center][color=gold][b][h1]Aerith Hastings[/h1][/b][/color][/center]

[center][i][h3]Peppin House #1, Cham, Priestella[/h3][/i][/center]

[@Ryofu][@FamishedPants][@BrokenPromise][@Zelosse]

[hr]

As the door had begun to move open, Aerith had dropped the two smaller chairs just a tiny bit in front of her and to the side so she could better move the door. As it were, even these two smaller children's chairs would bee a tad bulky to carry through a doorway one-armed. Yet as the girl grabbed a chair and looked ahead...she momentarily froze. The tension she got from seeing Hiro standing there struck a chord....felt like it has been back in Suttling's Basin, that poorer area where they had been....ah. The memories of before rushed back in again, her body kicking into an adrenaline-fueled state in a heartbeat. Perhaps it was the trauma that was leaving her too sensitive to things, or perhaps it was her mind jumping to a conclusion too fast without thinking. Regardless, as the small-statured assassin without warning leapt in with a shoulder-check Aerith was at least in a fight-or-flight response at the time. 

Her shoulder being clipped, Aerith opened her mouth wide to let out the first bit of a loud, audible scream as she chair she had picked up was dropped to the ground in front of her as her body was forced to turn. Only those in the house would really hear the bit of a scream, as soon the 6 inches of cold-cutting steel had already cut into her stomach as she was pushed to the floor. But even as the hand tried to cover her mouth and the poison began to take effect, Aerith responded with an adrenaline-fueled struggle in return. Using what added strength that hormone her body had imbibed (even temporarily) itself with, she bit the Assassin's hand as hard as she could as hormone and the trauma of her first death roiled hot in her mind. 

Strength of will pushed the weakening body as much as possible in this case, her jaw like an iron vice-grip seeking to make her assailant pay, even as Aerith's arms attempted to grab the assailant's neck out of haste to try to throttle them. Yet the pain from whatever was on that knife burned in her body, searing like white hot iron in her veins, unimaginably so if she hadn't already had the more gruesome and intensely vivid memories of gruesomely dying before. The sheer fact it reminded Aerith of that first "death" only seemed to steel her and her actions even more, even though just on an instinctual and physical level. This being said it was a sensation that would still stand out no matter what, even in her adrenaline-fueled and swiftly being poisoned state. 

This all being noted, she would perhaps only last a brief time on her own in all of this between the poison and trained assassin sitting on her, her survival instincts perhaps being the one thing keeping her at least attempting to fight back for the moment.