Rosenblum Hall (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
facultwist) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
witheredblum2025-04-19 03:10 pm
facultwist) wrote in witheredblum2025-04-19 03:10 pm
sinking down, down
Death is a drop into a blackness that swallows you. You feel the movement of not air but shadow across your face as you plummet, and there is no bottom. No crash.
If there is another side, you do not reach it.
It is neither the light of heaven or the fires of hell that greets you when you wake. And wake you do, to the buzz and flicker of old fluorescent lights.
You are laid out beside a full-size competitive swimming pool, half-filled with stagnant water. The doors out are blocked off by locked doors covered in caution tape. The locker rooms are long since emptied, paint peeling from the humidity. The only signs of habitation are a few pieces of scattered graffiti.
Welcome to your new home. There's no sunlight, no indication of time passing. Just you and each other and your thoughts. the stagnant water bubbles a little occasionally, but there's nothing in it.
Before long you'll realize that you no longer need to eat or drink. You might notice your hand go through something if you don't focus. You're a ghost now. What's that they say about unfinished business?
If there is another side, you do not reach it.
It is neither the light of heaven or the fires of hell that greets you when you wake. And wake you do, to the buzz and flicker of old fluorescent lights.
You are laid out beside a full-size competitive swimming pool, half-filled with stagnant water. The doors out are blocked off by locked doors covered in caution tape. The locker rooms are long since emptied, paint peeling from the humidity. The only signs of habitation are a few pieces of scattered graffiti.
Welcome to your new home. There's no sunlight, no indication of time passing. Just you and each other and your thoughts. the stagnant water bubbles a little occasionally, but there's nothing in it.
Before long you'll realize that you no longer need to eat or drink. You might notice your hand go through something if you don't focus. You're a ghost now. What's that they say about unfinished business?
no subject
Kohaku...
[The question dies in her throat. She's not sure what to actually say now.]
no subject
[ Most anything she could say now feels like it would be in poor taste. So, instead, she asks: ]
Is there something you would like to say to me?
no subject
[Kana can understand that. She wants to understand how deeply afraid Kohaku must have been for her sister.
But she's still dead. Kohaku still decided to kill her.]
Why me? Did I...did I do something wrong?
no subject
[ Is that better or worse for Kana to hear? Well, Kohaku supposes that doesn't really matter; comfort isn't what she is trying to provide. ]
For what it is worth, [ which may of course be nothing ] I tried to make it comfortable for you.
cw victim-blaming language kind of
[Kana has to laugh. Of course, she's the perfect easy target. Weak enough not to fight back. Stupid enough not to suspect she's being poisoned.
She's not sure if knowing Kohaku went out of her way to make it painless is a relief or just condescending.]
I didn't even know I was dead when I woke up. Guess you did it right.
[There's a terse quality to Kana's voice, like she's trying not to cry (it'd be another reason for Kohaku to see her as a weak, pathetic thing). What's the right way to feel here? Was there ever a real friendship to feel betrayed over?]
no subject
I'm sorry. You must have been disoriented.