Chapter Text
Fanny is biting her tongue all throughout Cake At Stake, and it takes her far too long to realize why.
It’s not because she has anything to say. Sure, these failed debuters are annoying, and she would much prefer for Two to be the one handling things, but ultimately she isn’t all that bothered by it. Besides, if there was anything playing on her mind, she would just say it. She isn’t the sort to practice nor care about politeness. If she did, she wouldn’t loudly declare about how much she hated everything that came her way.
No, it’s because it feels… grounding. The pain centers her, if nothing else. But that begs the question of why she needs to be grounded to begin with. She squints at a spot on the wall, cracked and dusty from where the storm had torn through it, as she mulls over her spots.
She does feel… odd, in a way she has to mull over before she can put it into words. She feels disconnected and kind of floaty, too, like she has to grab onto something before she flies away entirely. Like she’s being unraveled, a poorly sewn together sweater being pulled apart into piles of thread on the floor.
Which is disconcerting, obviously. She doesn’t know how long this feeling has been pulling at her. Long enough for her teeth to create grooves in her tongue, anyway. She gets the feeling something bad will happen to her if she lets it just pull her away. Keeping her grip on her tongue is a matter of self preservation, yes, but letting someone know about what’s happening to her feels even more pertinent.
Beginning to grow nervous now, she shifts in place. Slowly, she turns her attention to Black Hole, knowing she can trust him with everything, no matter what it may be. “I-” she begins, her teeth letting go from her ironclad grip on her tongue to form the word.
Logically, she knows that continuing to bite down on her tongue wouldn’t have accomplished anything. The motion was a placebo of sorts, designed to make her feel better, to make her feel like she had control. Biting her tongue might as well have been the same thing as digging in her heels in that horrible storm. It wouldn’t have stopped anything.
And still, she regrets it. Because the moment she forms the word, she stops, cutting herself off with a hitching of breath as fear stirs in her gut. There’s
something,
isn’t there? Something happening to her, something threatening to sweep her up and carry her away. The feeling is entirely different from when One had spirited her away and forced her into a deal. That one had been forceful and insistent, yes, but it hadn’t threatened to take her apart entirely. It hadn’t been dizzying and terrifying and-
Instead of finishing her sentence, she opens her mouth with a desperate intake of breath. Maybe she could say something, but her tongue won’t form the words. Instead, she does something that comes easy to everyone.
Fanny screams.
Screams and screams and screams. She would scream until her throat went hoarse, if that were a choice afforded to her. She’s nervous and dazed and feeling like whatever this pull is, it’s going to take her apart. It’s easier than trying to vocalize something, anyway.
Vaguely, she’s aware of her body wavering in the air, as if she were a mirage in the desert. There’s crackling sounds warping her screams, glitchy and harsh. Around her, her teammates panic in a desperate, undignified scramble, asking her are you okay, what’s going on? She can’t answer. She can’t do anything at all.
(Somewhere else, two objects are falling through the air, and several more are huddled together in an old, decrepit mansion. They feel the same feeling Fanny does, an insistent pull that unravels them in an instant.
The difference is they know they are to die. The difference is that they chose it and accepted it, as much as anyone can accept permanent death with no chance of recovery. The difference is that they know they aren’t real, created for the sake of a show, to be stuffed into boxes. The difference is that they know death is the better alternative.
Fanny doesn’t know any of that. And so, she screams until she’s finished unraveling, and when her body disappears entirely there’s nothing left in her wake.)