[There's a shriek, high and shrill and loud that shakes everything in the house, right down to its very foundation. It forces Tifa off her feet and she falls, scraping her hands and knees on the floor when she tries to break it. The woman that had once stood next to her—the woman she called her mother because she wanted to believe it—was no longer the warm, kind woman she remembers.
Her hair oozes like black ink from her head, her red eyes a deeper hue that glow past it dripping over her face. Her arms are long, nails longer, and she scrapes against the ground, still shrieking, towards Nier, like some kind of banshee-like ghost. Her shouts drown out Tifa's cries of fear, but in this form, she's helpless...
She can't do anything to help. All she can do is run, and she hates it. Tifa never ran from anything, and always faced her enemies head on—
"THIS IS WRONG!"
The ghost swipes at Nier, her nails scraping against the walls when she whirls her arm back and then forward, bringing down anything that had been nearby.
But as she tries again, something larger knocks into her. Tifa, no longer the small girl she was mere seconds ago, punches the ghost with a shout, and sends her staggering against the nearby console table, the dead flowers and their pots shattering when they fall to the floor.
Already, she's crawling back up, rearranging her limbs and snapping them back into place...]
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Her hair oozes like black ink from her head, her red eyes a deeper hue that glow past it dripping over her face. Her arms are long, nails longer, and she scrapes against the ground, still shrieking, towards Nier, like some kind of banshee-like ghost. Her shouts drown out Tifa's cries of fear, but in this form, she's helpless...
She can't do anything to help. All she can do is run, and she hates it. Tifa never ran from anything, and always faced her enemies head on—
"THIS IS WRONG!"
The ghost swipes at Nier, her nails scraping against the walls when she whirls her arm back and then forward, bringing down anything that had been nearby.
But as she tries again, something larger knocks into her. Tifa, no longer the small girl she was mere seconds ago, punches the ghost with a shout, and sends her staggering against the nearby console table, the dead flowers and their pots shattering when they fall to the floor.
Already, she's crawling back up, rearranging her limbs and snapping them back into place...]