ALL LIGHTS TURNED OFF #splitrivers : independent, low-activity multi-muse blog featuring original & canon muses from school spirits. written by cat ( she / her, 29 ). CAN BE TURNED ON.
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Not today Justin

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@splitrivers
ALL LIGHTS TURNED OFF #splitrivers : independent, low-activity multi-muse blog featuring original & canon muses from school spirits. written by cat ( she / her, 29 ). CAN BE TURNED ON.
your one (1) tv show being between seasons is so funny because it's like what am i supposed to do here ?? watch heated r.ivalry ??
CHASE SUI WONDERS as riley luo in genera+ion (2021)
ghosts
never trust somebody who hates all pop music. my final message. good bye
ava sneaks another glance at the girl across from her. there's something familiar about the girl in the library with her, and it's only after a long moment that she realizes why, exactly, she looks so familiar.
it's because her face is plastered all over school, on missing person posters.
but if she's here, in the library, then they must've found her, right? it was a little strange that no one had taken the posters down, but she hasn't seen mr. south around lately — maybe he was sick, or something? and surely the police had better things to do than take down posters for a girl they'd found.
“hey, i'm sorry,” ava says, biting her lip nervously. “i know we don't know each other that well, but i'm glad you're back. evveryone was really worried about you.”
a starter for @splitrivers
it was becoming a more comfortable instinct, to ignore the living as they mull about, a background hum to the bigger concerns at hand. occasionally, one will look in maddie's direction, and it never fails to turn her stomach, but just as quickly, their attention is captured elsewhere. just like in life, they see right through her. until they don't. ava addresses her, and it takes a long moment and a wayward glance over her shoulder to confirm that no, she's not mistaken. she's talking to maddie. deer in the headlights, maddie stares. she doesn't know this girl. can't make heads or tails of intention, of what she's doing to be able to see her. maddie's head whirls. even in death, adrenaline is a loud, remembered instinct. like muscle memory, maddie tenses, bracing for impact. if she runs . . . actually, she settles on the decision before the thought is completed. as good a solution as any. she takes one last, long look at ava, and then bolts in the opposite direction.
MAUDE APATOW as LEXI HOWARD
Euphoria Season 3 Sneak Peak - CBS Mornings ( 2026 )
"well, sometimes mr. martin has a point." emphasis on sometimes, in cathy's opinion. for as much as the chemistry teacher tries to say they have the same goals, that they both have the students' well-being in mind, he didn't always act like it. pushing them too far, seeming to disregard their concerns, dismissing anyone who didn't immediately get on board with his line of thinking.
there's a laugh at her question, "it's more of an everyone thing." though, the loop-risks (as gemma called it) are a bit easier to help, with a more tangible problem and easy solution. but, there's also something else to this. she misses being a coach, and this feels close enough to that. "but i was just watching your form. are you just practicing or do you have a goal?"
gemma eyes her skeptically, as if the mere suggestion of mr. martin saying something meaningful in all of his earnest nonsense makes cathy less trustworthy. it isn't like she hates the guy, but there's something . . . off. like the plot-twist villain in a movie, someone who's a little too kind, a little too dweeby. others buy into it willingly. gemma's a harder sell. she softens as the topic turns to her sport. it's rare that anyone truly indulges her. sometimes, she and wally race. there are a few soccer kids that will join her wordlessly on the track. but it's been ages since anyone downright asked her about it. "summer mason beat me by three seconds at the regional track meet the day that i died. i could've beaten her." and probably still died, but at least she'd qualify for state. "she did it in 1:03. i can do better than that."
rip gemma you would've loved zara larsson
“you can’t just casually mention you’ve technically died once” i can actually. it’s funny
@splitrivers (gemma) sent: “you never mentioned this before.”
casey feels bad, the kind of feeling-bad that makes her guts feel like they're made of jello. how that works when she's been legally dead for years and doesn't actually have any guts to speak of, she has no idea.
“yeah, i... i'm sorry,” she manages. “i just... i didn't know what to do.” and so she'd run from gemma, left her alone to die, seizing on the side of the track.
she can't look at gemma as she talks, scuffs the floor with a flip-flop. sometimes she wishes she'd died in something — anything! — else. the damp tee shirt and gym shorts don't afford her much in the way of protection from the world.
“i just...” she pauses, unsure of what she can say. “i'm sorry,” she offers, again, as though it will help.
"i don't want an apology," gemma replies numbly. she's not sure what she wants anymore. she has the truth. she has the knowledge, the extent of casey's . . . cowardice ? is it cowardice if it's what the average person would do ?
does it have to be cowardice for it to hurt her ?
she was dead anyway, body scorched from the inside out, heated to an unsustainable point that she couldn't be pulled back from. still, she stands across from casey, expecting more words to come. or even tears. she just stares at someone still too afraid to look at her now.
"you didn't have to leave me." gemma reasons. she wills anything to come to the surface. anger catches and spreads like a hungry flame. "it was just me and the fucking athletic trainer ! they wouldn't let anyone else come near me ! they just sat there and watched me die ! why didn't anyone else do anything ?" she was gone the next year. couldn't handle the thought of coming back to that track. gemma didn't know if she could blame her, either.
WE'RE SO BACK MOTHERFUCKERS
maddie hugs her loved ones like they're going to be ripped away from her which is especially ironic because — [ gunshots ]
NORMALLY, THE HEAT of Rhonda's anger would burn hot enough for Elly to mold herself into whatever shape would navigate the situation best. Optimizing behavior where clarity didn't exist became an ingrained habit. Self-mutilation started with the voice, adjusting phasing and cutting out all the parts that made her honest in exchange for safety.
Elly listened without formulating or trying to fix before the feelings could permeate. There was no course correction this time. Tears flowed from Rhonda's face and the words poured from Elly's chest at the same time. "You are more than a convenient option," she said.
"Maybe he came to you because you are someone he wanted to see before he went. You and Maddie. You're the two people he actually sought out. He was scared but he loves you," she stated like a fact rooted in her gut. "Both things can be true even if it doesn't make things better. Like I know—I know this is a good thing and he got to do it his way but I don't feel happy or sad, I just feel like he left."
She pressed her lips together. "You should've gotten the chance to say good bye. I'm just jealous you got to do one last thing for him."
elly approached her with the disarming softness that rhonda expected. they were so fucking predictable. rhonda, rabid with anger. elly, the magical shrinking girl who could muster the bravery to approach her. it only served to stoke the flames this time around. maybe because she couldn't tell what to be angry at, exactly.
"yeah, maybe." she all but spat the word. it would've been a lot easier to decipher if she could just fucking ask him. no bullshit, no lies, just two people who could duke it out for real and make sense of shit before they went their separate cosmic ways. "because you're right. don't get soft about it. he did leave. that's now how this is supposed to go. he left us to figure the rest of this out ourselves." some leader. some friend.
she was jealous. spot between eyebrows creased, bafflement and frustration. "you don't want that." that being a familiar, bitter resentment. the sting of a child left at the bus stop, not necessarily angry at the other kids, but envious. not quite sure yet how to be angry at the parent that left them sitting there in the first place.
"shit under false pretenses doesn't feel good." she thought it was one thing, he thought it was another.
@splitrivers starter call.
Despite her death, Cathy's never stopped looking out for the students. If nothing else, it gives her a sense of purpose. Something that made her afterlife feel worthwhile. She can't change what happened, what caused any of their deaths, but she can make sure they're alright now. Heading towards the track, Cathy chuckles a little at the runner.
"Are you doing alright?" she calls out, stopping at the edge of the track. "You've been out here awhile." Cathy's trying to make sure Gemma isn't going to get stuck looping again.
"you sound like mr. martin," gemma huffs in response. raises to her feet, throws hands out in dramatic show. see ? can't do this while looping ! once the point is made though, she crouches back down, awaiting imaginary gunshot. it never comes. she takes off anyway. if she loops, she can't get faster. it's always destined to be the same. if she isn't looping, she can change. get better. beat her own time. she finishes the lap no closer to her goal than before. it's always seconds short. the number varies, but never in a steady progression. she palms back flyaway hairs from her forehead. cathy's still watching her. "do you do this for everyone, or just us loop risks ?"
jokes on the scsp producers, whether it gets renewed or not i'm not leaving
for a historical society, they don't guard their history very well. and for someone who's dabbled in petty crime, it's not the hardest thing in the world to pilfer ; while the couple of balding men sorting through memorabilia for the festival have their backs turned, maddie makes a grab for one prize in particular, fist closing around a handful of dusty leather. they barely notice as she makes a haphazard getaway back into the school. it'll only be gone for a few minutes.
they kept it in mediocre shape. it smells like someone's basement. there's a rip along the right shoulder seam that no one bothered to patch up yet. but she slips it onto her shoulders like a costume — a vision from another life, or a lingering moment in death, — and pokes her head through the entryway of the cafeteria. coast clear, she plays it exceptionally cool.
"do you think number 46 was good enough to be memorialized at the split river high school athletics booth ?"
@wallyclarkmemorial didn't ask but gets something anyway