[Caitlyn has the sudden urge to say 'you're not my mum,' which would be very petty and childish and not at all the sort of thing she'd be inclined to say. But before the words can leave her lips, she's struck with an overwhelming wave of sadness.
She sinks down into a chair.]
I miss my mum. [Is that her talking, or the person sharing her head? Maybe it's both. She'd give anything to see her mum again, but she also gets the sense that they miss their mum too.
Someone with an overbearing, overprotective mum who, when everything goes wrong, they realize really loves them and who they desperately miss? Perhaps there's a reason this dead person decided to haunt her.]
We should find my mum.
[She stands up, only to have the room suddenly spin out of control and crash into Clara.]
I suspect. [Said with the too-perfect diction of someone having to work hard not to slur their words.] I may be inebriated.
no subject
She sinks down into a chair.]
I miss my mum. [Is that her talking, or the person sharing her head? Maybe it's both. She'd give anything to see her mum again, but she also gets the sense that they miss their mum too.
Someone with an overbearing, overprotective mum who, when everything goes wrong, they realize really loves them and who they desperately miss? Perhaps there's a reason this dead person decided to haunt her.]
We should find my mum.
[She stands up, only to have the room suddenly spin out of control and crash into Clara.]
I suspect. [Said with the too-perfect diction of someone having to work hard not to slur their words.] I may be inebriated.