[i][/i][hr][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/cQ1NPja.png[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/jttTmEk.png[/img]
[sup][sup]And [color=6D4833]Latoya[/color][/sup][/sup][/center][right][b][code]Spanksgiving.[/code][/b][/right][right][b]Interactions: Paloma ([@Atrophy]))[/b][/right][hr][hr]

Destiny stayed still as Vin crouched. She didn’t react—no flinch, no nod—just stared, eyes wide and shining, unsure whether to run or listen.

The words seeped in slowly—[color=51684c]"I was you once. Hurt kid. Most people ain’t nice without wantin’ somethin’. Protect the people I’m killin’ for."[/color]

Her mind tried to make sense of it all, but nothing fit.

[color=757566]"...I don’t... get it,”[/color] she whispered.

The fork fell from her hand with a soft clink; she didn’t try to pick it up.

She looked between Vin, Paloma, and Latoya, as if searching for a trap or a trick.

[color=757566]“You’re saying all this like you care,”[/color] she said slowly, cautiously, as if the words were sharp. [color=757566]"But you don’t even [i]know me[/i].”[/color]

A shaky breath escaped, and she immediately regretted that they could hear her.

Her voice lowered further.

[color=757566]“People don’t take care of kids like me. They don’t... protect us. They don’t give us food. They don’t... talk to us like this.”[/color]

Her gaze dropped to the table, shoulders curling slightly.

[color=757566]“So why are you acting like I [i]matter?[/i]”[/color]

Not blame-just exhaustion, suspicion, and fear that any of this might be real.

Latoya moved her plate to one hand and crouched slightly next to Vin, leaving space for Destiny but ensuring she could see her clearly. No pressure. No gestures of reaching out. Just being present.

[color=6D4833]“Hey,”[/color] She said gently, [color=6D4833]“You’re alright. Nobody here’s trying to corner you. You don’t owe [i]anyone [b]anything.[/b][/i]”[/color]

Destiny’s fingers twitched around the fork.
Paloma was still talking, something about seats and plates and how Destiny “almost ate her.” Destiny heard the words, but her brain was scrambling too fast for them to land correctly. She managed to mumble, barely above a whisper:

[color=757566]“I... wasn’t gonna eat you.”[/color]

It didn’t clear anything up. But the real disorientation hit when Destiny’s telepathy, rattled from the earlier surge, scraped against Latoya’s mind. It wasn’t a mind. Or it wasn’t a mind. Or it wasn’t shaped like anything human minds were supposed to be shaped like. It wasn’t blocked. It wasn’t guarded. Destiny just... couldn’t parse it. Like reaching for a doorknob and finding four doors stacked on top of each other. Like hearing an echo with no source. Like stepping on a stair that wasn’t there.

Her breath skipped.

Her thoughts snagged.

She jerked her senses back into herself like someone who’d almost stepped into traffic.

Latoya didn’t notice. She simply tapped her knuckles lightly against Destiny’s forearm; careful, noninvasive, just grounding enough to be real.

[color=6D4833]“Paloma’s right about one thing,”[/color] Latoya said, glancing over at her with a warm, knowing look. [color=6D4833]“You should eat something. But you don’t have to rush. We’ll go at your pace.”[/color]

Destiny swallowed hard.

She had no idea how to process Paloma’s dramatic kindness.

She had even less idea how to process the impossible shape of Latoya’s mind.

She just nodded once — sharp, confused, involuntary — because it was the only thing holding her together.

[color=757566]"...Fine,”[/color] she said quietly. [color=757566]“Just... don’t look at me like that. Like I’m something [i][b]you[/b][/i] have to fix.”[/color]

She narrowed her eyes at Paloma.