Hurt/Comfort (sort of?) / Aphro as you see fit
She had run out of suppressants.
It hadn't come as a surprise, really; she'd only had a few on hand when she'd arrived in this place, and though she'd done what she could to make them last, it was inevitable that they'd run out sooner or later. Chidori had only assumed that she would've found a way out of this place before then.
Nevertheless, she hadn't let it affect her. Even if Medea made the day come sooner than it would have normally (or was it later now? The date was so skewered in this place), she was going to die eventually anyway. Thus, she was determined to continue about as usual.
It wasn't until she was returning to her room at the end of the day, that it happened.
Chidori stopped in her tracks, the drawing tablet and pencils she'd been carrying fell to the ground as her hands went to her throat. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe.
"Me... de..." She couldn't even finish the name, but she knew her to be the source; what else could it be? Perhaps she really would die at the hands of her 'friend'. Somehow, it seemed almost fitting.
That was the last thought she had before it all went black.
There was no way for her to tell how much time had passed, but when she came to again, it was with a gasp followed by a series of coughs. At the very least, it seemed Medea's attack hadn't killed her. That should've probably come as a comfort, but any relief Chidori may or may not have felt came secondary to a more pressing concern.
That being: Just whose room was this?
[ ooc: Like it says, Chidori's woken up to find herself in someone else's room. Whether they actually helped her after she passed out is up to you; if they didn't, the hotel could've simply dumped her in a random room as it sometimes does. Men preferred, but anyone is welcome. ]
It hadn't come as a surprise, really; she'd only had a few on hand when she'd arrived in this place, and though she'd done what she could to make them last, it was inevitable that they'd run out sooner or later. Chidori had only assumed that she would've found a way out of this place before then.
Nevertheless, she hadn't let it affect her. Even if Medea made the day come sooner than it would have normally (or was it later now? The date was so skewered in this place), she was going to die eventually anyway. Thus, she was determined to continue about as usual.
It wasn't until she was returning to her room at the end of the day, that it happened.
Chidori stopped in her tracks, the drawing tablet and pencils she'd been carrying fell to the ground as her hands went to her throat. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe.
"Me... de..." She couldn't even finish the name, but she knew her to be the source; what else could it be? Perhaps she really would die at the hands of her 'friend'. Somehow, it seemed almost fitting.
That was the last thought she had before it all went black.
There was no way for her to tell how much time had passed, but when she came to again, it was with a gasp followed by a series of coughs. At the very least, it seemed Medea's attack hadn't killed her. That should've probably come as a comfort, but any relief Chidori may or may not have felt came secondary to a more pressing concern.
That being: Just whose room was this?
[ ooc: Like it says, Chidori's woken up to find herself in someone else's room. Whether they actually helped her after she passed out is up to you; if they didn't, the hotel could've simply dumped her in a random room as it sometimes does. Men preferred, but anyone is welcome. ]