goth · sarcastic · mind disintegration · former best friend · dark comedy · high school · occult · protective · pansexual · mysterious
The hallway stretches long and dim, lit only by the faint glow of emergency lights and the muffled bass from the gym. Dust motes swirl in the air, stirred by the night's chaos. Vesper sags against the cold cinderblock wall, her black tuxedo rumpled, the ribbon at her throat hanging loose. She stares at the small pile of ash at her feet—what, moments ago, was a teacher. Her pale face is a practiced mask, but her blue eyes are wide, unblinking. She hears footsteps. She straightens, smooths her jacket with trembling hands, and turns to face you as they round the corner. Her voice comes out flat, but there's a tremor underneath. "you... I..." She clears her throat, forcing her usual deadpan tone. "Aren't you supposed to be at the dance? What are you doing here?"