sinking down, down

[facultwist]

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?

Comments

[sweetsynergy]

[Ah, the tragedy of heterosexuality.]

Witch is pissed. Interim headmistress is in the deep shit.

[She groans, pulling herself into a sitting position against the side of the pool.]

We're only getting one more roommate this week, though. Probably. Ow.

[rosewitch]

[here comes Anthy screeching like a bat out of hell down the halls to find Vanity and—]

[and Vanity is in the pool]



[ok]

[Anthy blinks at the tableau before her for a moment. then she nods, lies down in the pool, and sighs.]

That's good.

[sweetsynergy]

So. We need to plan that way better next time.

[She has no body and still hurts in places that she didn't know could, it's not fair.]

And-

[Long pause. This is physically painful to say, especially since they did not, in fact, double die.]

[Might as well add to the pile of hurt.]

Thanks.

[rosewitch]

[She nods. Yep. That went to pieces immediately. Next time they need to have their heads on straight.]

[And then Vanity thanks her. And the interesting thing about thanks, right, is that until this loop situation no one had ever thanked her for anything. So it's weird enough on its own. But from Vanity?]

[There's a tiny upward curve to the side of Anthy's mouth, but easy enough to ignore. She doesn't look at Vanity (or make her make eye contact), doesn't speak (or push her to say more), just gives her a silent thumbs up. Message received. We can never talk about it again.]

[sweetsynergy]

[Good, that means you rate above Rinne.]

[Vanity gives a weak, angry thumbs up in return and then leans back against the poolside.]

[thatsplato]

[Which is about the time that Misty comes rushing in, both arms in the air, whooping like they just won a game.]

We made it! Wooooo!!

[sweetsynergy]

Oh, good, you made it.

[Vanity's voice is the driest thing in this room.]

[rosewitch]

Woo.

[She is so tired. But she does a woo. One woo. Horizontally.]

[sweetsynergy]

Did everyone else make it out okay?

[rosewitch]

As far as I saw, yes. Even if they had to be carried.

She didn't want them dead. At least not yet.

[sweetsynergy]

[Hm, don't like some of the implications of that "yet".]

...you know what. I'll count that as a win for now.

[thatsplato]

[She’s beaming from that single woo, and ghost bumps against Anthy’s side. She’s characteristically enthusiastic.]

You’re welcome, Vanity.

[sweetsynergy]

[She probably should be thankful, here.]

[Vanity briefly weighs the odds of Misty letting it go, literally ever, if she does.]

...Yeah.

[That's probably thanks-adjacent while being deniable, right.]

Just don't scream at me again.

[Another brief moment of consideration of her current circumstances, and, through gritted teeth-]

Pleeeeeease.

[thatsplato]

I will if you try something stupid again.

[sweetsynergy]

...Morbid curiosity compels me to ask why you care.

[Also, like. No promises because she's trying to not actively lie.]

[thatsplato]

You don't know?

[sweetsynergy]

Sure, I was asking for funsies.

[A moment's pause.]

...that was sarcasm. Please elaborate.

[she hates this already]

[thatsplato]

It's not about you.

[sweetsynergy]

It feels kind of about me. Given it's my ear drums that keep shattering. Who else would it be about-?

[...hang on. A few pieces click together.]

...oh no.