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Receiving Willow’s roundabout confirmation would normally have cost Roche a fair deal of her sanity interpreting it, and the validity of Sylvia’s identity seemed to confirm itself just by how familiar her behavior was once Tsubomi de jure started verbally tearing into her. Even if she was too far to make out exactly what she said, the wilting of her friend was painfully fresh in her recollection. 

 [color=orange]”Excuse me, Willow. I need to go get between those two….and Seriously, Suki and I aren’t an item. She had her chance.”[/color] There was no bite to her words, absent of resentment or loss. In her desperation and pain, there was no point denying Roche [i]could[/i] have seen herself entangled with the mess that was Suki. Whether she’d sink with her or pull her out was anyone’s guess, and left firmly in the realm of a shipper’s fantasy.

So, Willow and Kiyo, mostly.

But as much as she really wanted to meet Sylvia face to face without the realization at least two other people were sharing those eyes, her crossing of the cafeteria brought her near her ex-partner’s table where she was, shockingly, not menacing their new light girl. She [i]was[/i] in the process of being verbally battered by an outsider. One whose parting words splashed ice water down her spine and left the Rulekeeper red in the faced, exhaling through her nostrils like a bull in a certain Spaniard festival.

[color=orange]”Excuse me, I’ll pay you back.”[/color] The Rule Keeper tersely hissed in passing as she snatched up a box lunch and diverted from Tsubomi de jure and Sylvia. Not even bothering to introduce herself to the table she upended the contents over Black Gate, sweet sauce and rice splashing upon her gothic dress like a rain of dandruff while artfully split sausages settled upon her lap, octopi swimming amidst the folds of her dress.

[color=orange]”Oh no, I’ve made such a mess. Here, let me help.”[/color] Bold as brass and without a shred of guilt in her feigned kindness, Roche was dabbing at Michi’s chest with a napkin, whereupon her fingers fisted in the material and dragged her close.

Weeks of sleepless nights, valid paranoia, a trip to the city of light, and her own twisted heart had brought Roche to dangerous territory, but she was finding precious little to regret as she hissed low enough only the table could hear. 

[color=orange]”You’ve just overstayed your welcome. You can either walk out of here, or I’ll drag you out in pieces. No one talks to any of my club mates like that and gets to feel safe in this city, understood? Get lost, right now, and drop those plans for Giga Miseria. We don’t need that heat in our home, and we don’t need a viper spitting venom either.”[/color]

Keeping a paper thin pretense of civility in such a public setting she straightened, dropping the napkin on her lap as her lips pressed in a thin line.

[color=orange]”The restroom is down the hall on your left. Wash yourself on your way out.”[/color]