"At least if we're here, we'll learn how to manage." her lips thinned into a flat line. "... and honestly, Feo, I'm not looking forward to causing an international incident by going back." she didn't need Kyros to hold another thing over her head. "Everything gets worse from here. It's better to get used to the idea now."

She looked at him, brow furrowed. "Well, I can't stay here either."

"Yeah. It was fucked." she looked down at her palms, closing them and opening them again. There was dark material beneath her glossy nails. "... I stabbed it. I've never stabbed anyone before."

"Because it's their home." she shrugged. "Because it's all they know. Because they go super saiyan when they're high on Altair fumes?"

“I hope they clean up the house.” she muttered, crossing her arms. “I don’t want to mop Melat off the floor.”

“Oh,” she began, meaning to talk about the kids, but then… again, he was freaked out enough. Maybe they could just ignore that small, sad tale. “… yeah, I’m sure they have a very high viscera tolerance here. Roo didn’t even flinch. I don’t know how she’s with that guy. And he creeps me out too.”

“I think it’s worse than that.” She said, her gaze sliding to him, her voice softening to a stage-whisper. “Just a really fucked up man.”

"Just their little hands," she flexed her own fingers. "I brought a lot of velvet, so it showed up on the cloth. I can brush it out, but it feels kind of... I don't know. Like proof that they were there."

"Maybe." was all Parisa said. It was also entirely possible that they were both dragging each other further down this dark pit called Altair, but she was a princess and knew to be tactful enough not to say that out loud.

Obviously not. But he was freaking out, and his nose was bleeding, and she didn't know what else might have gone wrong with his chronokinesis. One of them had to be the grounded one, the eye of the storm and whatever, though she felt more like the last stake holding down a tent in a hurricane. "I'm fine," she said, because what else was there to say? That she'd wanted to stab people before but had too much impulse control to follow through, and now that she'd done it, she found that she didn't really like it but that she'd do it again in a heartbeat? Would she tell him that every time she turned her back to an open space she felt like Melat was creeping up on them, even though Melat was in several pieces on the floor and now being bled out around their house? Of course she wouldn't, because that would only make things worse.
She knew what Feo thought of her, both in general and with the Kyros situation. High-maintenance and unreasonable, unforgiving and contrite. He'd accused her of being those things and more, but she wouldn't let him accuse her of being weak. She wasn't going to be the vulnerable one in their equation, and she certainly wasn't going to make him feel like he had to shoulder the burden of her emotions. Though she'd never asked him to in the first place, he'd prod his way into the center of her drama and then complain to Sparrow about how much drama there was, leaving Parisa looking and feeling like a hysterical fool. He could sit on his stoop and wallow in his despair. She would resolve this latest trauma on her own.