[u]Codi Bailey and Atticus Fowler[/u]

Codi was fully aware that if Atticus got hurt in her prank, she would be responsible for it. However, just because she had been confident before, didn’t mean that as they approached the top of the falls, she didn’t begin to have doubts. She didn’t want him to be injured, so she supposed the only way to keep him from hitting the side of the cliff would be to push him extremely far over the edge of the falls. Regardless, the longer she thought about it, the more doubts she had; it was in no way easy to do something like this. It felt like plotting a murder. He would probably be too angry and shocked to even speak to her, and that made her feel worse about what she was planning. When Henry dived over the edge of the falls, though, making sure that he was there to act as lifeguard in case Atticus began to drown, she knew she would either have to go ahead and do it, or lose her chance. She doubted that the faculty would force Atticus to do a risky attempt like this, and so, it was either take this opportunity, or never know for certain what his limits were. She didn’t enjoy it though; no light-hearted or optimistic thoughts beforehand could really ever prepare her for this.

Codi steeled her nerves, and uneasily waited for her chance to come, as it soon did, when Atticus walked to the edge of the cliff to peer down into the water, trying to find where Henry had landed. It took nearly ten times the resolve to the perform the action, but by some vile chance, she managed it. She coiled up one of Reef’s powerful arms, and, before she could permit herself to rationalize an excuse to stop, shoved her friend a clear six feet off of the cliff. Atticus screamed as he fell, not even knowing fully what had happened, and it hurt enough to bring tears to Codi’s eyes. She crumbled to her knees, peering over the edge of the cliff, watching in horror as the pure terror he experienced triggered a transformation. She immediately wished she hadn’t done it, but there wasn’t any taking it back. She tried to rationalize why she had done this, but it was impossible, even though she had done it earlier. She could only watch, hoping that he could breathe underwater, as she broke down and started to cry, just as shocked by what she had done as Atticus was.

Completely stunned by the turn of events, when Atticus plunged deep under the white waters, the only thing he could think of was air. He didn’t have a fresh breath in his lungs, and he was already feeling a burning sensation as he needed more. He started to urgently swim up, but the current of the waterfall was difficult to fight against, as the shock of falling had made him lose all coordination, and his clothing kept getting in the way. The terror began to build the longer he stayed under, as he became more panicked by the increasing fear that he might drown. His vision began to swim black at the edges, and his thoughts started to go hazy; the strength started to leave his already uncoordinated movements. Finally, his body forced him to let out whatever was in his lungs, or he would pass out from lack of air. When the hacking cough came out, Atticus’ entire field of vision started to go dark as he thought he would start taking in water.

What happened next surprised him.

The immediate moment that he had released all of the air in his lungs, the blackness in his vision started to fade, and Atticus found that he did not feel the compulsion to breathe at all. He felt a kind of warmth creep through his limbs, and the oxygen-deprived twitching of his body began to stop. The longer he held still, the more he improved, until it seemed as though his body had returned to what felt like a normal state. He still felt incredibly weak, having not yet recovered from the sheer terror, but finally, a logical train of thought returned. He began to slowly twitch, as he maneuvered himself so that he was floating in what felt like a horizontal position, finding that his tail was highly effective for this.

More rationality returning, he felt highly restricted by his clothing, and became aware of Henry in his vision, watching him, although it was now somewhat difficult to see, as he did not need his heavily tinted lenses in his creature form. He shook himself a bit, trying to dispel the nervous weakness in his limbs, and he began to adjust to the fact that he could actually breathe in the water. He first removed his dark lenses, taking them off of his face, where they were now rather ill-fitting, and folded them up, searching, and then finally managing to slide them into an empty pocket on his jeans, which did not fit properly now that he had sprouted a tail. He also curled into a position that would have been impossible for a regular human, and removed his socks and shoes, looking with a hint of distain at the socks, which had been torn up by his claws, although the shoes themselves were fine.

Atticus stuffed the ruined socks inside of each shoe, and then proceeded to double-knot the laces together, before wrapping them around his left hand, so that he wouldn’t lose them. Once this had been done, he started to swim away from where he had landed, using his tail and moving in a distinctly eel-like fashion, although there was also a strange twitching to his fin-like limbs that one would find distinctly eerie. He briefly considered leaving the water, and this was indicated when he looked towards the surface, but after pondering, he thought against it. He was thinking more calmly, now, but he had little doubt that it had been Codi who had pushed him over the cliff. People couldn’t see beneath the white waters, and Atticus knew she would probably grow upset the longer he stayed under, keeping any sort of evidence of whether or not he had survived a secret. It was true that she had been right about his powers, but Atticus wouldn’t let her know she had been correct, just yet, because he still couldn’t believe she had tried to drown him in the first place. He really didn’t know what he should say to her, either. He supposed he had already forgiven her, because he had actually lived, but at the same time, if he hadn’t been able to breathe underwater, what then?

Swimming deeper into the water, he changed direction and went up to Henry, his face blank and difficult to read. He pointed with one hand up towards the surface, to indicate his friend, tilting his head slightly to one side, as though asking a question. It should have been obvious that he was asking if Codi had told him she was going to push him over the falls. Atticus wanted to know if Henry had been an accomplice or not. If the faculty had been involved, that might give him a better idea of what he should say to Codi whenever he decided to come out of the water. He knew she was probably breaking down and crying, even though Atticus was the one who had experienced what he perceived had been a life-or-death situation. He had already decided, though, that if Codi had ideas, he should make sure to never take them as lightly as he had used to. She had been after him for a long time to make him do what he was doing now; he hadn’t thought she would go to crazy lengths, but she had.

Meanwhile, Codi, who was for the most part hysterical, now, had been staring down into the water, and finally backed away from it, feeling sick from the extreme crushing guilt that she had just shoved her friend over a cliff. Had he drowned, or was he intentionally doing this to punish her? Henry would have pulled him out by now, had he not been able to breath down there. He must have done it, then, but he wasn’t coming up. He was probably furious at her; she was sure she would have been herself, had she been forced to go through something as traumatizing as thinking she was about to drown and die.

She was pulled out of these self-pitying and worried thoughts, though, when she heard a strange, echoing cry coming from somewhere. It was weird, but she wasn’t incapable of looking in the direction of the sound. When she did, she saw Dana rocking back and forth on the ground, without her wheelchair, and looking just as hysterical as Codi felt. She immediately felt her concern, though, shift to the person she was capable of engaging in contact with. 

“Dana!” She cried, having managed to remember her name because of word-rhymes and the distinct features of a person that she could recall more easily. She ran over, “Oh, dear! What happened!? I just pushed Atticus over a cliff and…What happened to you? Are you okay? Where’s your wheelchair?!” Her words didn’t make much sense, but it was a heavy mix of worry for Dana, along with the sheer stunned shock and disbelief at her own actions. “I’m so sorry, are you alright?” She thought she was about to break down crying again.