Caught between the intoxicating effects of the alcohol she had consumed and the capricious symphony of the girl trio's moods, Hanna felt akin to a marionette with her strings cut. Reality seemed to be dipped in a coat of the surreal, the ground beneath her adopting the comfortingly treacherous texture of quicksand. Her navigation through this labyrinth was eased, however, by Ivy's constant stream of chatter that anchored the purpose of their visit to Ritman Field. A blush of rosy hue painted Hanna's cheeks at Ivy's quip about the 'bureaucratic circle', the absurdity of a literal interpretation of the phrase provoking a hidden mirth within her. But her response was a mute one, a grin of shared amusement and a suppressed chuckle. A soft βHey--β escaped Hanna's lips in response to the 'hate mail' comment. It was ludicrous and yet not entirely unfathomable. The memory of a crowd from her past, their faces twisted in annoyance, flashed before her β Anni's was among them. Her thoughts were abruptly scattered when Ivy's sudden clapping resonated through the field. Hanna recoiled as if subjected to a shock of electricity, a gasped βJesus--β marking her surprise. Anticipation sparkled in her eyes, though. The grand unveiling of their shared past was nigh. Her fingers mimed drumming in the air, her voice attempted a dramatic drumroll, only to botch the sound effect with an ill-timed βBa-Dum-Tss!β. Her humor was soon to be muted, though, as Ivy's countenance morphed into one of disappointment. A shiver of concern ran through her as she echoed Ivy's bewilderment, her eyes falling upon the empty capsule. Hanna's jubilant smile faded into a frown of concern. She was familiar with Ivy's propensity to take setbacks to heart, especially when the setback concerned something close to her. But this was not the right setting for their usual comforting routine. The alcohol coursing through her veins made her overly empathetic, tuning her into the poignant waves of emotions emanating from Ivy. It was a challenging moment, one they would eventually navigate past as they always did. Hanna moved to Ivy's side, her fingers gently catching a stray tear on Ivy's cheek. βWe probably just got another class's capsule. It's not the end of the world. We'll just get the right one tomorrow and do this again.β Her words of comfort hovered in the air, but Ivy's attention was arrested by the book and the singular ominous word it bore: Oblivion. What ensued was a display of the uncanny that Hanna initially attributed to the alcohol playing tricks on her. The letters from the book seemed to take on a life of their own, springing toward Ivy like predators on their prey. A gasped exclamation ripped through Hanna's throat -- βWhat the fuck!β -- her grip on Ivy slackened as she recoiled from the spectacle. Then, chaos ensued. It felt like the earth beneath was rebelling, its surface convulsing as if caught in an earthquake or a whirlwind. As Ivy succumbed to a strange transformation, Hanna could not help but wonder if their drinks had been spiked with something more potent. She barely had time to register her thoughts before an explosion of sorts swallowed them, plunging everything into darkness. Hanna was thrown into a chasm of unconsciousness. ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ | β #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO γγ¦γγͺ p. johnson's βΈ ritman high football field ββββββββββββββββββββββββinteracting with: Ivy/@CaliforniaState |