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Fanny pants, sweat beading against her forehead as she presses herself tightly against the wall.
Okay. So it’s clear that the invitation to kill people combined with Two’s power has made Pencil… more than a little unstable. Mostly because she’s going around killing everything that moves. Or, well, trying to, anyway.
For some goddamn reason, Fanny was her first target. Well, actually, she thinks she knows why. It’s some combination of pissing off Pencil as often as she can and being an easy target. If she had to guess, though, it’s rooted heavily in the first one.
Luckily for her, though, she got off scot-free. Maybe she was a bit roughed up, but Marker managed to scare her off. Him and a panicked Book, who had stuck her head out around a corner and sent Pencil flying into a wall, giving Fanny enough time to scramble into the halls like a rat trying to find safety. She’s seen what Four and X do to rats in their kitchen; she’s probably going to be just as brutalized when Pencil gets her. If Pencil gets her.
She had met eyes with Book as the woman scrambled after Price Tag. “What was that for?” Fanny had called.
“Y-You and Ice Cube seemed, um, kind of close!” she had said in response. “I thought she would have appreciated it…?” With an awkward wince, she had turned her back on Fanny entirely and started picking through Price Tag’s piles of stuff. Her words had prompted Fanny to think of Ice Cube just as she was running past a window that revealed the wasteland outside, and she had grimaced. If she was still here, she’d be so disappointed. If she was still here, maybe none of this would have even happened.
From there, she had met back up with Marker, or tried to. She had spotted him down the hallway, being hassled by Liy. Just as she tried to rush in to help, he had offered her Tree’s token, which she supposes had been Pin’s first. Does that thing just keep getting passed around? Despite seeming touched by the gesture, that wasn’t enough for Liy to not kill him, and she had watched with a wince as he was torn apart. Damn it, she had really wanted to repay the favor after Marker had saved her from Pencil.
Given that Liy had seemed to have it out for all current Death PACTers, Fanny had decided it was a good idea to make herself scarce. She had ducked into Golf Ball’s laboratory just in time to watch as Tree killed Golf Ball. He looked kind of shell shocked by all of it, staring numbly down at his hands.
“Tree?” she calls as she walks in, and he jolts, his eyes wide and panicked. “You okay?”
“Fanny,” he hoarsely returns. “I… I broke the PACT. Ugh…” He buries his head in his hands, letting out a sigh. “It’s not like I meant to kill Golf Ball. I don’t… I don’t know how to control this power. I don’t think I want it.” He turns to Fanny with a determined expression as he rests a hand atop her head. “Here.”
She doesn’t have time to ask him any questions before she feels a dizzying rush through her body, settling in her legs. It’s like a wave, or maybe a river. It’s identical to the feeling she got from Four back in Two’s room, back when she was left with far more questions than answers. Him knowing about One (because he obviously does, that expression gave a lot away) will make for a vindicated Ice Cube.
“Did you give me your power?” she can’t help but incredulously ask, furrowing her brow.
“I want nothing to do with it,” Tree dramatically declares, sweeping an arm across his forehead. “I don’t want to risk killing anyone again. And despite the challenge, you should try your best not to kill anyone either, Fanny. Not unless it’s necessary.” He waggles a finger at her in disapproval as he begins to make his way out of the lab.
“Wasn’t planning on-” she begins.
“Watch out!” wails a distraught sounding Bottle, and that’s all the warning Tree gets before she shoves past him and the Fourse slams into him strong enough to kill him on impact. And still, neither of them stop, both of them seeming a bit caught up in their own problems. Jeez…
“...it.” she finishes with a huff. Looks like she’s stuck going at this on her own now, then. Black Hole is preoccupied, and she thinks she would prefer the world be held together as opposed to winning the challenge. She would just also like to not die to Pencil. It’s a pride thing.
After that, she sticks in the shadows, hiding and not saying a word. Book and her group aren’t doing the greatest from what she can tell, everyone else is being picked off one by one, and most of the power is being funneled into Pencil and Liy, the two people who have it out for her the most. Joy.
Maybe she’s going insane, spurred on by paranoia and the general situation, but she swears she sees One lurking around, watching things unfold with a thrilled look in her deep, unnerving eyes. Given that all Fanny’s seen of One since she made the ill-advised decision of signing that contract is the Algebrailian hiding in the shadows, observing with more than a little joy about her, she can’t help but be unnerved by the thought of One hanging around whether she is or not. There’s a reason the rift started acting up now. Fanny’s torn between trying to live and wondering how all of this plays into One’s hands. Um, metaphorical hands.
When she spots Pencil rushing up to the rooftop, she follows out of obligation. Mainly because Pencil causes problems everywhere she goes, and someone has to keep her in check. If the way her limbs are beginning to glow green is any indication, though, Fanny’s a little bit outclassed. She presses herself against a wall, staying out of view, and gets a front row seat to Bottle rushing past, the Fourse still doggedly chasing after her. Horsedly? Forcedly? Never mind, this is stupid.
Bottle trips, her power goes rushing into Fanny, likely due to proximity, and Pencil… waits. Like a predator waiting patiently for prey. Or maybe a spider spinning a web. She’s waiting for Liy. And if she gets her, that would be… entirely too much power, especially for Pencil. Fanny can’t trust her with it. So she supposes she’ll have to step in, then, and stop Liy and Pencil from confronting each other. No matter who wins, it’ll be bad for Fanny, but she has a sneaking suspicion Pencil is too stubborn to die like this given how obsessed she’s been with winning challenges.
“I’d say I’m sorry, Liy, but I’ll just have to apologize later,” she whispers grimly from where she’s pressed against the wall of the doorway leading to the roof, one foot stuck out. It’s so simple it shouldn’t work, really.
And yet, Liy, flying up the stairs, is moving too fast to even notice Fanny. Her jaw is set in determination, the woman only having eyes for Pencil. So when she slams into Fanny’s foot, she slams hard, going skidding across the ground. Quickly, Fanny kicks Liy down the stairs before she can regain her bearings, and she falls violently down the stairs with a strangled scream that stops as quickly as it had started. When she comes to a stop at the bottom of the staircase, she doesn’t move again, and green power, far more vivid than what Fanny’s received before, flies into her chest.
She breathes heavily for a moment, trying to get her hair to stop resting on end. Just beyond the doorway is Pencil, waiting on the roof for a fight that will never come. It’s just her and Fanny left, after all. Well, them and Black Hole, but he didn’t seem interested in participating in the challenge, for obvious reasons. Can he even be killed…? The door is open, slightly ajar, and it gives Fanny the perfect opportunity to eavesdrop on the conversation beginning to take place.
“Pencil?” Four growls out, his tone accusatory. “You shouldn’t have all of that power! You don’t know how to use it! Give it back to the ones you stole it from!”
“Oh, I think they’re a bit preoccupied,” she returns, her tone venomous and mocking. “And I don’t know how to use it? Should I do what you’ve done with yours? Trap people away for years? Ruin their lives?!” She barks out a harsh, furious laugh.
Four grits his teeth in response before firing several beams at Pencil, his expression focused. Is he trying to take Two’s power? Or, what Pencil has of it, anyway. If the objects could take it from each other, willingly and… not… then it stands to reason that it’s the same here. Despite Four’s best attempts, though, he’s frazzled, and his determination pales in comparison to Pencil’s intense, righteous fury. She quickly pins him to the ground and grabs onto his wrists with a white-knuckled grip. Her limbs, already glowing green, flash, and the color becomes more teal, the powers mixing as Four’s own power threatens to overtake Two’s.
Fanny wonders if it’s always been that easy. Taking power from the Algebrailians like that. Or maybe they would have been incapable of it normally. Maybe it’s the power they’ve been given, a heady rush through Pencil’s veins as much as it rushes through Fanny’s. Maybe it’s like… a magnet, seeking out powers like it. Do Algebrailians have an easier time holding it? She doubts object bodies are made for this sort of thing.
“Pencil, cut it out!” he yells, but his voice is weak and trembling. He’s all bark and no bite without his power. “There’s- There’s another number here!” Fanny can’t help but flinch to attention at the mention of One, blood roaring in her ears.
“I know! You already stole their show!” she yells in response. The words are edged with mania. How carried away is Pencil getting now that she has so much power?
“No, that’s not-” he begins in a strangled protest, but Pencil doesn’t stop to hear him out. She keeps using the power to fire at Four over and over, and no matter how unstable she is, the fact of the matter is that she can do something and Four can’t. “Talk to Fanny, she knows! You have to- You can’t let her-” No matter how desperately he begs, Pencil won’t stop, summoning bugs and narrowly missing him as she tries to drop an oven on him. “I-I get it! You’re mad at me! But you’re-!” he begins, sounding hysteric.
“Bye, Four,” Pencil says lowly, before summoning a bolt of lightning that sends Four flying off of the roof and to the ground below. The sight makes Fanny’s stomach twist.
Four tried. He really did. She wonders what he knew, if he could have done more, but it’s not like she was any better. He believes in her to be able to do something against One. Can she…? Well, she should probably take care of Pencil first.
She slams open the door, breathing heavily. “What did you do?” she calls, her teeth bared in a snarl.
Pencil doesn’t even turn to face her as she grumbles “Jeez, are you seriously still alive? Could you be any less annoying?”
“You just killed Four!” she accuses. Somehow, that’s the thing that makes Pencil, the woman rolling her eyes dismissively, turn around.
“Please, there’s no way he’s actually dead,” she says flatly. “I couldn’t be that lucky. But you could be. You will be.” The look in her eyes is wild and unnerving as she leans forward, breathing heavily. “So shut up and die already, will you?”
“No, Pencil,” Fanny spits, her jaw set in a snarl. The air crackles with tension and electricity. “You think I’m going to let you go on some damn power trip? You think I’m going to sit here and let you kill me?”
“You just don’t want to lose the challenge,” she scoffs in retort, raising a hand crackling with electricity in a dismissive gesture. Despite the lightning wildly crackling in all directions, leaving the acrid scent of ozone in its wake, Pencil hardly seems to mind its instability.
“Are you kidding me?!” she barks, her cord lashing behind her. “You really care about that now? The world is ending. You’ve just gotten rid of one of the people who care about fixing it! In what world am I going to sit around and let you make things even worse?!”
Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say, because Pencil’s eyes flash with anger. “Even worse?” she echoes with a harsh bark of laughter. “Really. Is that all you think I do? Fine.” She throws her hand forward, lightning flying from her fingertips. Fanny frantically scrambles back, and the spot where she was just standing is now denoted by a large soot mark that makes her shudder. “Then let me make things even worse for you and let me kill you!” she says with a shriek of manic laughter, readying another volley of lightning.
Quickly, she dodges, but she knows even before she finishes that she can’t do that forever. Pencil is relentless, beyond reason as she sends out wave after wave of lightning with trembling hands and gasps of effort. But Fanny has more than her fair share of power herself, even if most of it was stolen from Liy. She’s not helpless. She can do something, can’t she? It’s better than laying over and dying to Pencil, of all people. The worst person alive. It would bruise her pride, to be sure.
Desperately, Fanny focuses all of her energy, the rush of wild, explosive power clawing at her chest like a caged animal that makes blood roar in her ears. She finds that the sensation makes her feel powerful, especially when Pencil lets out a shrill, blood-curdling scream, outstretching an arm before her body ripples with cracks and she shatters into bits of wood that go flying around the rooftop. A teal energy, bits of green nearly overpowered by persistent blue, drifts into the air from her scattered body and hovers in the air for only a moment before flying into Fanny’s chest. It’s so powerful that she can’t help but stagger back as she tries to keep her balance, her breathing turning strained.
The low buzzing that had been lingering in her body amplifies tenfold with the power that rushes into her body. It makes her feel like she’s gone from a battery to a lightning rod that’s just been struck. It’s hard to handle, to be honest. It feels a lot harder to focus like this, and her eyes cross more than a few times from the disorientation.
Even after the threat has been… taken care of, Fanny still finds herself frozen, her body rigid and trembling. Her brain struggles to catch up with everything that’s happened, still caught on the fact that the world is ending or might as well be. Still caught on the fact that everyone is dead. Still caught on the fact that she’s a bystander at best and a contributor at worst to that fact.
Slowly, she walks to the edge of the roof, staring down at the ground as she leans against the railing. “Four?” she calls. She should… probably give him his power back, shouldn’t she…? She definitely doesn’t need it.
And still, there’s no response. Her voice echoes uselessly around the grassland, or… wasteland, she supposes. Disquieted, she draws back, feeling somewhat unnerved. She doubts he would have gone far. Not of his own volition, anyway.
The fact that One is lurking around, watching the proceedings with shining eyes, makes her swallow dryly, and she draws her cord in close. She doesn’t want to be alone, she decides. Even if things don’t go her way, even if One appears and holds the contract bearing Fanny’s signature over her, it isn’t something she wants to have to handle alone. It had been nice to try to handle the threat of One in the brief time her and Ice Cube were working together.
If she has Four’s power, its owner nowhere in sight, does that mean she can use it to revive someone? Or everyone, maybe? After Pencil sent the recovery center flying, it might be her only option, and she doesn’t want to do this alone. She can’t. So…
The faces of her teammates flash through her mind. Tree and Marker… Black Hole too, of course, but she doesn’t think he can actually… die, and he has bigger things to worry about anyway. She wants both of her teammates, the ones who have been at her side since the start of TPOT, no matter their arguments. She wants Tree’s unflappable stability, Marker’s relentless optimism. She wants… for things to be okay, really.
She’ll try to bring back Marker first. She reaches out her foot and focuses on all of her memories of Marker, replacing him as green in her mind. She thinks of his cheer, his goofiness, his desperation for everyone to be happy with each other no matter what it takes. She can see the faintest outline of him emerge in the air for a moment, a ghostly, hazy vapor that never grows into anything more solid before sputtering out.
Cursing furiously under her breath, a desperate chant of “No, no…” she tries again with Tree only to get the same result. She feels Four’s power coursing through her for a moment, a rush of something that could be defined as life, but Two’s power blocks it before anything solid can be created, a crushing weight constricting her body and stopping Four’s power in its tracks. Does their power just mean that revival is impossible, regardless of Four’s own abilities? Is Two that useless?!
At the end of it, she’s left desperately gasping for air, and stuck on a rooftop no less empty than when she made it that way. Her stomach twists and twists, and it’s impossible to shake off the weight of the dread pressing down on her.
For a moment, the entire world is silent save for her strained, pained breaths. And then, the rooftop door goes flying open with a loud bang, startling her enough for her to jump as she frantically whirls around.
Standing in the doorway of the stairs is One, her eyes wild and her smile thrilled. Fanny really doesn’t like to see that expression directed toward her. “Finally,” the Algebrailian croons, striding forward calmly, like she doesn’t have a care in the world. “We can talk face to face, without any of those pesky distractions in the way. I’m glad you made yourself useful in more than a few ways–it proves I didn’t make the wrong decision in trusting you.”
“Stay away from me,” she hisses lowly, her cord lashing fiercely behind her.
“If you wanted that, you could have just died along with the rest of your friends,” One boredly replies, rolling her eyes. “But of course you couldn’t do that. No. You’re too stubborn, too self-righteous, too desperate. You won’t let yourself die, will you?” She stops in front of Fanny, casting a looming shadow over the object that makes her chest tighten.
“Not until you go away and stop causing trouble,” she spits out in response, her teeth grit.
It’s hardly the rousing statement that stills Fanny’s thundering heart. Worse than that, One just looks bored, her eyes sliding over Fanny as she strides past her, nudging into her rough enough to make her stumble. The Algebrailian stops in front of Pencil’s body, or what could pass as it, anyway, staring down at it with an impassive expression.
“It’s a shame, really,” she idly continues, rolling on her heels. “I did want to make a deal with this one. I saw a lot of myself in her.” Her smile is fond, bittersweet. “Well, there’s hardly any point in it now. After all…” Even though she’s still facing Pencil, her pupils slide toward Fanny. It’s horribly unnerving. “You have everything I want. And a contract with me, to boot. I knew you’d repay me for that mouth of yours, even if you don’t do anything relevant with it.” Her lips curl up into something teasing and irreverent even as Fanny squirms, wondering if she’s seeing something where there isn’t.
“I’m not giving you this power,” she spits insistently, squaring her shoulders as she leans forward, harshly glaring at One. For all of her mistakes, she knows this isn’t one. She doesn’t want to imagine what the Algebrailian will do when she gets this power, nauseating and overwhelming. Looking around and seeing what she’s already done is warning enough.
“Oh? And who’s going to stop me?” she counters, raising a brow. “That stolen power will tear you clean apart if you’re not careful. I can tell you don’t know how to use it.”
Fanny can tell the warning isn’t just to psyche her out. She can feel the rush of power thundering through her, dizzying and disorienting in its force. If she uses too much of it, she could… Or even just using it in the wrong way could have dire consequences. And if she kills One, or takes her power, because she was being too impulsive, it’ll just be more power she can’t really control.
Scowling, she turns her attention away from the Algebrailian to the sky. “I’m not the only one left,” she whispers hoarsely. “Black Hole! Black Hole!” She desperately calls out the man’s name as she rushes past One, stopping at the edge of the rooftop. “Black Hole, I know you’re trying to fix things, but I need your help!”
Despite how loud she screams, her voice just echoes uselessly across the wasteland with no response in earshot. If her heart hadn’t already dropped from her chest, it would have upon hearing One’s low chuckle. “He’s your backup plan?” she prompts, sounding amused. “Unfortunately for you, I already thought about that.”
The sudden rush of foreboding fear that fills her roots her to the spot. She couldn’t even turn around if she wanted to. “What did you do to him?” she snarls.
“But keep calling for someone who won’t ever respond,” One continues like she hadn’t even heard Fanny, brushing up against her in a fleeting, disorientating touch. “One of these times it could even work.”
“What did you do to him?!” she repeats in a scream, the feeling of One brushing up against her enough to spur her into action as she throws her foot forward, the end of it crackling with a rush of power that leaves her lightheaded. She doesn’t think she’ll use the power, really. She’s not brave enough for that. But it’s the only thing she can do to protect herself.
“Aw, look at you trying to fight back!” she coos in response, her voice saccharine sweet. “I’m excited to see how long that lasts.”
With a nauseating twist, the world shifts around Fanny in a sensation she remembers vividly. Stars rush around her vision, blinding her for a moment, and even after blinking furiously, dots remain in the corner of her eyes. She stumbles back into a familiar chair, one high off of the ground, and has to resist the urge to scream. She never wanted to come back here to this horrible liminal space, with the sickly orange moon swirling infinitely inside itself and a flat, vast field running into the horizon with no end or variation in sight. It’s the kind of thing that lingered in her nightmares, alongside One herself.
One sets up camp in her usual armchair, although it looks more destroyed than it had last time Fanny was here, practically a year ago by now. Bits of it are torn up, exposed stuffing poking through, and half of One’s interior, which had felt so meticulously crafted to feel claustrophobic, has been broken, books and glass and debris scattered across the floor, and the screen perched between the two chairs has a few cracks spanning the glass.
“Welcome back!” One says brightly, not seeming phased by the damage spanning her pocket dimension. It’s such a disruption to her meticulous, controlling exterior that Fanny can’t help but wonder why she hasn’t fixed it already. It’s hard to feel unnerved and on the back foot when there’s proof that One isn’t invincible. “Let’s chat a little, shall we?”
“Is this the part where you try to get me to sign a contract?” Fanny drawls, thinking she has a pretty good idea of the formula by now.
“Close, but I figure we can review the contract you’ve already signed,” One says with a hum. She raises her foot, and in tandem, a familiar piece of paper is lifted into the air. Fanny feels her stomach fall with dread. “You didn’t look over the terms for it fully, did you?”
“I didn’t have the time,” she snarls in retort, baring her teeth in a snarl.
“Hey, I wasn’t saying that as a condemnation,” the Algebrailian says airily, shrugging with a placid expression. “I’m just saying we should look at some… passages of interest, as it were.” Her eyes glint with hunger so unrestrained Fanny half expects One to bolt forward and rip out her throat with her teeth.
“Fine.” Fanny spits, as if she hasn’t stayed up late tossing and turning about what she had agreed to in signing that contract.
“This one right here, for example,” she smoothly continues, the indicated passage turning a vivid blue as One indicates it. “In which it states that something of lesser, greater, or same value as that mouth of yours will be given by the recipient to the benefactor at a later, undisclosed date at the benefactor’s discretion. Refusal to adhere to these terms will result in the severance clause outlined on…” She flips the contract over. “Ah, right here, look at that.”
She smiles at Fanny, thin-lipped and so obviously eager to hear what she has to say to that. But she remains in sullen silence, hunched over in the small, stiff chair. She had barely remembered the feeling of it last time she had been sitting in it, but now she knows the leather to be rigid and cold against her skin. She thinks the detail will be etched in her mind, right alongside the eerie pitch black quality to the sky, just barely lit up by the stark orange stars.
“The severance clause is as follows.” One says after a moment of heady, conspicuous silence that Fanny refuses to break. “In the event of the recipient refusing to repay the debt, the benefactor is free to take a variety of actions depending on the severity of the damage.” She loses her reciting, chiding tone as her eyes slide back to Fanny. “The actions can be as light as taking back what was given to the recipient or as harsh as punishing the recipient in a way the benefactor deems fit.”
“And what does that mean?” she says flatly, rolling her eyes. Even if she had all the time in the world to read that stupid piece of paper, she doubts she would have been able to wrap her head around any of it. “How are you gonna punish me if I don’t give you this power? What can you even do when I’m like this?” She raises a neon, glowing foot with an unimpressed expression.
“You like to jump to the worst conclusions, don’t you?” she says boredly, raising a brow. “How do you know I won’t just take away that mouth of yours? You certainly deserve it if you can’t uphold one measly little contract for it.”
“How will that help you?” she presses.
“Pragmatic. I suppose there is…” She trails off, her eyes sparkling with mirth. If One’s excited about it, it’s probably bad.
“There is…?” Fanny whispers, her cord trembling from where it hangs off of the chair.
“There is one thing,” One continues, her smile wicked. “I erase you from existence, just like Gaty. Just like Barf Bag. Just like Basketball.” Fanny flinches at each listed name. Each makes her feel all the more like a failure. She’s so caught up in the feeling that it takes her a few seconds for her to fully comprehend the threat.
“Wait, you did what to them?!” she hisses.
“I did the same thing I’ll do to you, if you won’t give me what should be mine,” the Algebrailian snarls, her cold fury briefly shattering her front of matter-of-fact professionalism.
“You wouldn’t,” she protests. “You can’t. You need this power! You can’t just-!”
“If you had never existed, then you would have never gotten the power to begin with,” One interrupts, calm and unflappable. “I’ll have other ways to get this power, with or without you. I don’t need you at all, Fanny.” Smiling sinisterly, she leans forward, her eyes flashing. “Let’s say I prove that, shall I?”
Her brow furrows in focus, and Fanny can’t help but jerk back, feeling panicked. It’s because of her pounding heart that she doesn’t notice the feeling right away, but when she does, it’s all she can think about. It’s a horrible feeling. It’s like… she’s being pulled apart, piece by piece, bits of her being slowly but surely whittled down into dust. It’s awful. It makes her want to curl in on herself and scream.
The feeling begins to amplify the longer she feels it, a horrible sort of echo effect that makes her want to scream. “What are you doing?” she says, her voice wavering. She can barely speak without it hurting. And the longer she just stands there, the more her vision blurs, everything dissolving into a smeared mess of color.
“What I told you I would do,” she responds, her grin all teeth and amusement coming from her in waves.
“Stop, it hurts!” Fanny protests plaintively, jerkily leaning forward. She feels so stupid saying that. Of course it hurts. That’s the point. And yet it’s awful anyway.
“I can make it worse,” One says idly, tilting her head, and the pain doubles, a rush of agony that makes her double over. She wonders what’s worse, feeling this or not being able to feel anything at all.
…Goddamn it. She’s so horribly weak, isn’t she? She could have all the power in the world, and she’d still fold eventually. The magic of self preservation, she supposes.
“Fine!” she shrieks, flinching and curling in on herself, her cord wrapping tight around her legs. “Fine, just take it, just stop-” She pants out the word, nearly doubling over under the weight of it.
“Very good,” One coos. With just a fluttering blink, the pulling at Fanny’s chest stops. She no longer feels like she’s unraveling. She breathes heavily, trying to catch her breath, and One just watches her with her big, shiny eyes.
“So how do you want it?” she whispers hoarsely, her head ducked as shame pools in her gut. She feels awful, yielding so quickly like this. And yet, is her stubborn pride really worth death? When everyone else she’s ever known is gone, unreachable in some way, she wants to live. For them, maybe, or for herself. What happens when she dies and never comes back?
“There are a few ways,” the Algebrailian idly replies, pacing back and forth. “But I think I’d know which one I’d prefer. What do you think, Fanny?” She turns to her, her smile grotesquely wide as it twists her face, sharp teeth poking out behind the thin veneer of her lips. It’s strange that she even asks her for her opinion. As if she has a choice in any of this anyway.
“Does it matter what I think?” she boredly replies. Even as she keeps her voice level, her heart thunders in her chest, making the edges of her vision speckle with black under the force of sheer adrenaline. Fighting for her life so many times in such short succession has to have some kind of effect on her, she supposes. “You’re going to get the power no matter what I do. I’m just…” She stares at her feet. “A stepping stone.” Tears sting at her eyes, sharp and insistent. She wishes she didn’t feel so useless.
“You’re nothing,” One says firmly as she makes her way closer to Fanny, and she wishes the Algebrailian didn’t sound so confident as she says that. It makes Fanny believe her. When she stops in front of Fanny, her face, which had been blank, settles back into a smile, wide enough that it easily slides from her face. Does she ever stop smiling? “I’m glad you seem to understand that.”
“I’m not nothing,” she insists on impulse, because she wants to cling to some of her pride. But she regrets it instantly when One’s face drops, her pupils small pinpricks within the vast, sickly yellow sea of her eyes as a scowl pulls at her face. She doesn’t want to disappoint One. She doesn’t want to hurt. Shuddering, despite all of her best instincts, she drifts forward, curling against the Algebrailian. “But if I am, that would make you… everything, wouldn’t it?” Admitting to that makes her feel gross. “Everything that’s left.”
“And you learn so fast, too!” she coos, nuzzling Fanny’s grate with her cheek. “Don’t worry so much, dear, that knitted brow looks no good on you.” She feels it–a rush of fear, a hum of nerves. She doesn’t want One to view her as inadequate. She wants to be good enough, she wants to be… “After all, you’ll have plenty of time to learn after you give me what’s always been mine.” She pins Fanny in place with her wide, hungry eyes. Can she flee even if she tries?
“Me?” she whispers on impulse, because the idea makes something stir inside of her. She can’t tell if it’s something good or something bad. But she stares at One and imagines being hers, and that makes her feel… helpless. Oddly enough, it’s not a feeling she entirely hates. What could One do to her like this, the two of them in this empty pocket dimension as they’re intertwined for eternity?
“Well, that too, but the power is what I’m really looking for,” she replies with a shrug, rolling on her heels. “Right now, at least.” She leans forward, so close to Fanny she can feel the Algebrailian’s measured breath against her face. Her smile isn’t as wide, this close. Rather, it’s something curled, something coy. “You can guess what you need to do to give it to me, can’t you? You’ve always been smart, yet so foolish.” Her eyes twinkle with mirth at the way Fanny shrinks. “It’s just one of the things that makes you so interesting.” The word is said with a reverent sigh.
The power. Right. She was so afraid, so disoriented, by One’s sugary words, that she had nearly forgotten about it. Nearly. And still, she can feel its electric energy coursing through her body, sending sparks flying out from the outlet of her tail. Her body trembles at the force of it, an oppressive weight she can’t bear. She thinks if she keeps this stolen power any longer, it’ll tear her apart.
Four’s power is harsh, like a caged animal clawing fiercely at her chest. Two’s power is calmer, comparatively, but it’s the calm of a river. Some parts of the tide are softer, easier to bear, and others are so fast she’s worried she’ll be swept away by the strength of it. It’s a mess of contradictions that makes pain pulse behind her eyes, making it hard to focus. The way the powers seem to amplify her emotions don’t help at all. It makes her terror and anger and sadness feel all-encompassing. Those, and some other emotions, too.
How were any objects supposed to be capable of handling this power? How was anyone? Was Two thinking straight when they decided to make it the prize of their competition, or did they just want to be rid of it? Did its presence scramble their mind just as much as it was scrambling Fanny’s? Algebrailians seem like a better vessel for this sort of power–it had felt wrong when Fanny had absorbed it, as if it were rebelling against her body, but she gets the sense that this power is one Algebrailians soak up like a sponge.
This power is going to tear her to pieces, if she lets it. It’s so much. And still, even with it, she can’t do anything. Maybe she could take One’s power or shred the stupid contract or do something, anything. She can run far away and free herself from this misery, because she hates feeling small.
But her friends would still be dead. She would still be left with this horrible ravenous beast in her body, leaving her wired and frantic for eternity or until her body gives out under the strain. It wouldn’t solve anything. And she doesn’t want to disappoint One.
Swallowing dryly, she meets One’s eyes. The Algebrailian said she was smart. Fanny really wouldn’t go that far, but even she can guess what One wants from her. The hunger dancing in her pitch black pupils, shining in her eerily big eyes, makes it obvious enough. She wants to be smart. She wants to have One whisper compliments in her ear, so kind it makes Fanny’s head spin. She wants to feel loved.
Funny, then, that the way to give over this goddamned power involves just that.
It’s less boldness and more obligation that makes her lean forward, closing the slight distance between her and One. Her entire body is trembling with anticipation as a part of her anxiously wonders if she had read the room wrong. But still, even if she has, she wants this. Maybe One does, too.
So she meets One’s lips with her own in a desperate, needy kiss, and if it’s the last thing she does, it’ll be worth it.
The feeling of their lips meeting is electric, and she thinks there’s more to that than the nerves and the beauty of it. The longer she kisses One, pressing her body tightly against One’s and rocking in a discordant rhythm as each part of her body strains, the more she feels the wild, discordant buzz of her stolen power slowly ebb from her body, like a draining bathtub. She thinks that’s where the electric feeling is coming from–power spreading from Fanny’s lips into One’s.
One’s eyes flutter closed soon enough, the Algebrailian letting out a contented hum in the brief moment they break for breath before she throws herself at Fanny again. Fanny’s so caught off guard that she staggers back under the sudden weight of the Algebrailian, just barely able to keep her balance and throw herself back into the kiss, even as her legs begin to feel shaky and she feels lightheaded.
Even though One seemed comfortable enough in closing her eyes, maybe trusting that Fanny can’t do anything anymore, like she would want to, Fanny can’t help but keep her eyes wide open, drinking in all of it. A part of her can’t help but feel as if she’ll never get this again; she doubts One will keep her around for that long. So she wants to embed this into her brain and keep it for as long as she has left. It’s her only refuge.
It’s because she keeps her eyes open, drinking in each sensation of the kiss (the way One hungrily pushes herself into Fanny, the way the Algebrailian slightly chews at Fanny’s lips, the way she’s all too happy to let Fanny’s cord curl around her legs) that she notices it. The way One slowly grows brighter and more vivid in her coloration, she means. The deep cerulean and pale blue of the Algebrailian was hardly dull before or anything. Despite her and Four being similar colors, Fanny always found her more striking.
And yet, the longer they kiss, clinging to one another for as long as they can get away with until one of them has to suck in a few greedy breaths, the brighter One grows. It’s like life is slowly bleeding through her body–life or power, Fanny supposes. Does power make Algebrailians brighter? It would explain Two’s pale, washed out color the last time she saw them, their power taken from them by a well-meaning Four.
Finally, when One breaks away from Fanny, she doesn’t move back in. And when Fanny, still reeling, dazed and giddy and desperate for more, tries to close the gap between them, One moves her back with a sweep of the leg and looks thrilled at the motion. “That’s enough of that,” the Algebrailian declares, her tone matter-of-fact.
“H-Huh?” she stammers, and she can’t help the way her legs buckle under her as she sinks to the floor. She feels exhausted, all of the sudden. Like all of the energy was sapped from her body. Not even the lingering adrenaline and euphoria can fuel her for long. It’s only due to pure stubbornness that she manages to even keep her eyes open. “But… But I thought…” She feels stupid and foolish, suddenly. Of course One had a reason. Of course it wasn’t just pure, altruistic love.
“Not that I didn’t enjoy that, dear, but I did get what I needed from it,” she replies, her smile wickedly sharp. “And if we went any further, I’d be worried that you would pass out completely.”
“I’m not… I wouldn’t have…” she blearily protests as she stumbles over her feet trying to get up. One coos at her, and with a duck of her head, drags Fanny close to her. She’s deposited right on top of one of the Algebrailian’s legs, and with a sigh she can’t help but curl into it, her body trembling from the exertion.
“I didn’t realize giving away the power would drain you so bad,” One muses. “Perhaps it was the method. That’s fine, though. You’re adorable like this. So weak, so malleable. I think I’ll keep you.”
One lets out a hum, and the two of them are lifted into the air, One sitting down on her usual armchair and setting Fanny on her lap. She feels so small like this, One staring down at her with twinkling eyes. She feels kind of sick at the sight, her stomach churning. “I feel tired ‘cause I gave you the power?” she says haltingly, blinking a few times. Each blink is heavy, labored. She can’t help but be worried that she’ll never open her eyes again if she lets them stay closed for long.
“That’s right! You pick up so fast.” One says airily. It’s so condescending it makes Fanny want to claw her eyes out.
Instead, though, she begins to sniffle. She doesn’t want to cry, but anger is so tiring, and grief is the only emotion she can comprehend in the wake of what she’s done. Ice Cube would be so angry if she knew what Fanny had done. But she’ll never know. None of them will know. They’re all dead. And maybe she could have changed that, or maybe she couldn’t have. But she gave the power to One. And now everyone is going to pay for it. She’s an awful person, isn’t she…?
“There’s no need for tears, dear,” One insists, leaning in close to Fanny as she grins, eerily wide and effortlessly happy. “You’ve finally made yourself useful to me. You should be thrilled at the opportunity. Unless they’re tears of joy?”
“No, they aren’t,” she just manages to grit out even as she curls into One. “I’m not… I’m not happy. I’m awful. I… I didn’t want things to end like this. I didn’t want…” She lets out a choked sob as tears begin to trail neat tracks down her fan grate. “I’m sorry, Icy. I’m so…” She shakes her head furiously. She shouldn’t be enjoying this, breaking down in One’s lap as the Algebrailian stares down warmly at her, but what else can she do? She’s so exhausted her legs barely work.
“She can’t hear you now, you know,” she points out, her voice cold as she stares down at Fanny. “None of them can. It’s just me. Why don’t you embrace that? You’d be much cuter when you’re hopeless.”
“I’m not going to give up hope!” she snaps, trying to jerk back only for One to catch her before she falls off the edge of the armchair. “T-There’s still… there’s…” She swallows and looks away, bitterness churning in her stomach. “Please don’t let this be all there is.” she whispers, futilely. The idea terrifies her. No matter how far she runs, she’ll never be able to escape One. Not when a part of her wants to stay.
One just lets out a reverent, breathy sigh as she presses Fanny firm against her chest. And Fanny, her body weak and trembling as her face is streaked with a veil of tears, is helpless to do anything but obey. “You’re so sweet,” she croons right in Fanny’s ear, so close that it fills her mind as well as her ears, and One is all she can think of. “So fierce, so stubborn. I think I’m going to keep you forever–I’ll need someone to play with once I get bored. You’ll like that, won’t you?”
As she asks the question, she leans in close to Fanny, her breathing hot against her fan grate while her bottomless black pupils threaten to swallow up Fanny within them. Maybe it’s the weight of her despair, but she finds she’s all too happy for them to let her. What’s the point in trying to shy away from it? “I guess so,” Fanny says numbly as she presses herself all the tighter against One. “There isn’t anything left, is there…?” Her brow furrows, shuddering slightly as she thinks about her dead friends.
“Shh. You don’t need to think so hard.” One scolds, touching her foot against Fanny’s lips. Fanny flinches and looks away. “All you need to do is be mine. And you’ve done that already! It’s your signature on the contract that signs yourself away to me, remember?”
“I signed that more than a year ago,” she whispers in reply.
“So I guess that just means that you’ve belonged to me all of that time,” One effortlessly returns. “And yet you’ve stayed away for so long. Rather selfish of you, don’t you think? Who was I supposed to play with, toying with you until you crumble so satisfyingly in my grasp?”
Despite the numb, powerless haze that’s frosted over her mind, making her eyes cross under the weight of it, she still manages to grit her teeth, something acidic curdling in her chest. “Shut up,” she says hoarsely, her voice harsh. “I’m a person, same as you. I don’t belong to anyone, and I’m not a toy.”
One’s expression sours, a scowl quickly dispersing her previous smugness. Fanny misses her smile, wickedly sharp. And still, she likes proof that she managed to affect One somehow. “That’s awfully bold, considering your circumstances,” she points out. “You have nothing. You’re nothing.”
That’s the last thing she wants to hear. It’s like she’s back on iance all over again, Pencil and Match shoving her around. “I hate you,” she pants, the words lacking their usual strength.
One doesn’t even seem bothered by the harsh declaration like she had with the previous times Fanny had protested, the smile even settling back on her face. It’s frustrating how little Fanny’s actions seem to matter. “That’s okay,” the Algebrailian whispers in her ear, her voice low and breathy. “You’ll have all of eternity to come around.”
Maybe it’s the way she says it. So matter-of-fact, so confident. But it makes whatever hope is left in Fanny curl up and die in her chest. She’s given One so much power, everything she had wanted with obsessive, furious hunger. She signed the damn contract, she gave up her power. All of this is something she’s done to herself. And that warm feeling flaring up in her chest, creeping slower and slower to the one thing she can’t feel… She supposes she did that to herself too, taking as much joy in kissing One as she had.
Fanny dug this hole. And she’s going to die in it, too.