The first punch is like a rock smashing across Canada's face. Marianne forces her way up to sitting and raises her fist again in anger. Her eyes sting with hot, steaming tears.

"You idiot! You stupid... idiot! Who told you you could try this? Did you even think about what would happen if you lost? Or even worse, if you'd [i]won?[/i] Idiot! [i]Quelle conasse![/i] You... you're such a..."

The second blow falls, but it hits as hard as a kitten's paw. Her voice cracks with the effort of holding back her tears, which as boiling away her shadows. Her body doesn't change at all, but without them she seems... diminished. The general murk of the Undercity still hides most of her distinguishing details, but without her aura, with no burning eyes or wicked teeth or that easy sense of power that follows her everywhere, Marianne is not a monster. She's not a warrior, and not a revolutionary. She looks fragile, tired, and weak. She's not a hero.

She's just a girl. And she's lost the battle with her tears. She sobs openly and without restraint, helpless to stop the rain of tears from dripping out through her mask and splashing against Canada's skin and armor. It's a constant storm of blows, harder than her punches could even hope to be right now. Twice she almost seems to get a handle on herself, but as soon as she opens her mouth to speak again it breaks and she doubles over in a fresh wave of crying. She sinks lower and lower, until she's back in Canada's arms, clinging to her and hiding her face in the nape of her neck, stealing comfort from her own victim like the worst sort of villain.

"I-it's... not, not ok! It's not ok, you dummy!" Is this her real voice? It's so soft! She sniffs, "How am, how am... h-ho-how am I supposed to keep you safe? How am I supposed to keep you safe when you're trying to throw yourself away?! I need you! I can't do this without you! I can't do... anything without you..."