Jo is just so goddamn tired of falling. Inside her skin, outside of it, into whatever the fuck, and as she's weightless, hurtling through the dark, managing to bash a few of those floor pieces falling with her, them because she happens to have more weight and thus more gravity and speed than those pieces. She wants this whole fucking ride to fucking stop.










Jo cracked an eye when the ground impact didn't come as soon as it should, and she's —

Fucking fuck. Is she stuck in midair???????

(It's not dark down there, and very much unlike the maze, and she's got that. Color is back.
But being suddenly stuck in the sky is so much more important than rapid-fire detail.)

Like a cartoon expecting to fall when realizing the ground is way too far down there beneath you, Jo is just as suddenly freaked out not to be falling as she was in being pissed and preparing for the bone-rattling crunching of slamming the ground a third time. But nothing happens. Like. Nothing. Nothing at all. And Jo tentatively moves. The air continues to feel solid.

Under her hand. Under her knees. She pushes to her feet on the nothing, looking down, and reaches out a foot to attempt a step on what should all be falling, and somehow is not. And it's flat, too, but ends with a lip. That seems to have a step about three inches under it. This is not the kind of game she wants to play. Trusting in the invisible nothing is a shit show of just getting down enough steps, and then one is gone, and she'll fall again.

Except it doesn't happen.

She keeps walking down the invisible stairs in the sky,
like that's a thing people fucking do here.