[It should go without saying that Odette's shadow is one of the worst offenders. Even relegated to harmless pranks, it was charismatic, rough, and persistent, larger than life even in its weak two-dimension state. Now that the violence has broken out, it's nothing short of a menace, and Odette herself is more than eager to see if her own shadow will be the fiercest opponent she's ever faced.
When they're ambushed, she reacts quickly enough to be taken off guard by the frying pan. Even conscious of the incoming attack, however, she spins to eat the blow instead of dodging it entirely, the side of her head ringing as she closes the gap between herself and the offending shadow. There's they heavy metallic clatter of cookware going flying as she retaliates with an enormous mixing bowl launched bell-side at the shadow's head. It is a shadow, so it's not like the blow connects, but the bright lighting of the kitchen and the metallic sheen of the bowl are extremely confusing to a creature made entirely of darkness.]
Aw, Christ, Giselle, look at you. [A few drops of blood plink to the ground next to the maid as Odette sets her pincushion of a companion upright. They're from her head, of course. She doesn't sound particularly panicked. Perhaps the lethargy is really getting to her. Perhaps she's concussed by the frying pan. Perhaps the accord they developed a few weeks ago keeps her level-headed now.] Think that one's yours.
ii. with two super normal people
When they're ambushed, she reacts quickly enough to be taken off guard by the frying pan. Even conscious of the incoming attack, however, she spins to eat the blow instead of dodging it entirely, the side of her head ringing as she closes the gap between herself and the offending shadow. There's they heavy metallic clatter of cookware going flying as she retaliates with an enormous mixing bowl launched bell-side at the shadow's head. It is a shadow, so it's not like the blow connects, but the bright lighting of the kitchen and the metallic sheen of the bowl are extremely confusing to a creature made entirely of darkness.]
Aw, Christ, Giselle, look at you. [A few drops of blood plink to the ground next to the maid as Odette sets her pincushion of a companion upright. They're from her head, of course. She doesn't sound particularly panicked. Perhaps the lethargy is really getting to her. Perhaps she's concussed by the frying pan. Perhaps the accord they developed a few weeks ago keeps her level-headed now.] Think that one's yours.