[right][h2]Jay’s Catharsis[/h2]
[@Blademusica76][@Stanifly][@silver21][@DaftJive][@Tlazolteotl][/right]
Jay shook Floriano’s hand. Nice grip. Nice watch. Nice vest. The man looked like he had his life together, or at least his wardrobe.

“The menu?” They glanced around the room as if looking for one. “Uh, let’s see. Endless venting about relationships, a side of existential dread, and I think the house special is quietly falling apart in front of strangers. No prices listed. Which probably means it’s free, or they’re selling our personal information to some data broker as we speak. Either way.”

The folding chair squeaked as they settled back.

“I only just got here, though, so hard to say what’s actually good.” A nod toward the others. “They’ve been here a while. Probably know more about how this place works than I do.”

And they would, having been here long enough to actually have something valuable to share about this place.

Jay never had much to offer that group either. Maybe that was why those people felt fine with the promises that quietly became nothing, or worse, got replaced with something else entirely; the placating replies and decisions made about Jay without Jay. Why put in the effort for someone who isn’t worth much to you?

None of it was ever big enough to point at. Each one a needle-prick, barely enough to notice. [i]You’re overreacting. You’re reading too much into it. It’s not that deep.[/i] Maybe it wasn’t, the first time. Or the fifth. But micro-needles don’t stop being needles just because they’re small. They keep pricking. [i]Tic, tic, tic, tic[/i]—so tiny no one else can see the marks, so frequent you stop being sure they’re real. Until you look down one day and you’re bleeding from a thousand places you can’t even name.

[center]━━━━━━ ◈ ━━━━━━[/center]
[right][h2]Tic, Tic, Tic, Tic[/h2][/right]
[color=808080]It started small.

[i]Tic.[/i]

A prick. Something you’d mistake for a stray thought, a muscle twitch. Nothing worth naming.

Then another.

Each one belonged to whoever felt it. Their own history of small hurts.

[i]Tic.[/i]

A tear. Deeper than skin. Closer than bone.

[i]Tic.[/i]

[i]Tic.[/i]

And the insides started leaking out.[/color]

[hider=What is Perceived][color=808080]
Experienced by anyone who is aware of Jay’s presence in their Catharsis: each character feels small things that have hurt them in the past flashing across their mind, and every time one does, it pricks them.
[/color][/hider]