[Mental: Lyssa & Damian]
[It was music that struck next, some horrific and screechy rendition of The Devil Went Down to Georgia. She'd seen the violin. Not to worry Damian, it is only in your head, and it only lasted for a few shrieking chords before plunging into silence. Yet, the next sound did not seem to come from inside his head. It seemed very exterior, it had a source and a direction to turn toward. There, just there, where that small mirror sat upon his room's desk, Lyssa's likeness chirped friendly. She wore a snapchat filter like a mask, the cartoony kitty whiskers and pink-scribble nose on her otherwise pale, graying face. Her eyes were big and glossy black.] Meow?