Your phantom type looks over their shoulder at Writhe, the cage type looking even more hesitant and conflicted. They hold out the collar, saying that it was going to be okay…they’re just going to put this on, and it’ll make the scary voice get out of its head.
SPIT: You IDIOT, you really think that’ll stop me?
SPIT: Stop my words from worming their way into its little cat ears?
SPIT: You’re in my base, you little shit!
SPIT: You’ll NEVER escape me!
Writhe flinches again.
SPIT: Stop being such a big!
It takes a step towards Jasper, and another.
SPIT: Fucking!
Jasper reaches out, holding out the collar.
SPIT: Baby!
Writhe takes it and puts it on, staring directly at the eye on the wall.
SPIT: Fine! Fine! Be like that!
SPIT: I never needed something useless like you.
SPIT: You’ll never last on your own!
Writhe has not gone ROGUE, but direct communications between it and Spit have been BLOCKED.
Jasper walks over to Marvel and points at Writhe, the cage type catching on quickly. It plunks itself down on the ground, opening its gate and gesturing for Jasper to push him in. The phantom type just barely manages to get Marvel in there, careful to avoid the spikes littering the inside. Writhe shuts the gate and gets to its feet, watching Jasper with a curious look.
Jasper hesitates before realizing it’s waiting for guidance, and reaches over to hold its hand.
Cmon. Let’s get out of here.