[Sure, Nightrenders don't have lungs (probably? what does she know about demonic magical construct biology?) but someone tightening a rope around what answers for one's neck is still a hell of a distraction, not to mention an easy way for Kerrigan to unbalance the thing and bring it to the ground with a sharp backwards jerk. Its claws disengage from Kaworu's force field as it instead scrabbles to get hold of the person garroting it.
For a moment, the scene flickers, changes. The redheaded woman ruthlessly choking her target remains constant, but now the action takes place inside a nondescript office and instead of a nightmare creature, there's a man in a business suit, eyes bulging and neck and hands bloodied by his own attempts to loosen the ligature. It's all but silent, the victim unable to make a sound beyond his heels scraping helplessly against the carpet and Kerrigan not speaking, only breathing in and out in unintentional mockery of the man she's preventing from doing the same. A feral panic drapes over the tableau. His panic, somehow. Not hers. She feels nothing. It's easier that way.]
Dammit!
[Kerrigan shatters the past with a curse, the office reverting to a ruined fairground and the dying man becoming a still-animate Nightrender again.]
a. (cw assassination/choking)
For a moment, the scene flickers, changes. The redheaded woman ruthlessly choking her target remains constant, but now the action takes place inside a nondescript office and instead of a nightmare creature, there's a man in a business suit, eyes bulging and neck and hands bloodied by his own attempts to loosen the ligature. It's all but silent, the victim unable to make a sound beyond his heels scraping helplessly against the carpet and Kerrigan not speaking, only breathing in and out in unintentional mockery of the man she's preventing from doing the same. A feral panic drapes over the tableau. His panic, somehow. Not hers. She feels nothing. It's easier that way.]
Dammit!
[Kerrigan shatters the past with a curse, the office reverting to a ruined fairground and the dying man becoming a still-animate Nightrender again.]
Kid, seriously. Get it in gear!
OOC: Telepathy permissions!