[It's been a day. Washing up here, in the midst of this weird fucked up dead planet, and really, they keep thrusting food at her like it'll solve anything. She's been taking it, eating it, and feeling altogether like a cat that fell into a bathtub and landed in someone's elaborate tentacle fetish turned into a planet.

And then this girl shows up, her eyes as bright as Dominicus itself, with her skin and hair and height and flesh and bones exactly the same as the girl she's been looking for. And yet, she regards Ianthe with the passive unblinking stare of someone staring at a complete stranger.

Incredulous, she furrows her brow.]

...You know Harry, if you keep letting people crawl into your body free of charge, you might get a sluttier reputation than you're prepared to live up to.

What's your name, niblet?

[Because that's definitely not Kiriona.]