Three lets out a loud, annoyed groan as she begins to massage her temples. Four - whose lap she's resting her head on - gingerly pats her face, which didn't help the situation much. The thought counts, though, and Three can't really bring herself to be mad at her.

But what she can fucking be mad at are Eight's parents. Her... Pseudo-parents? They're not really adoptive, but... Whatever. Fuck semantics and fuck Off the Hook. Three is incomprehensibly pissed. In an angry way. Moments earlier, shs threw her phone at the wall of Four's apartment with so much force that she thinks the screen cracked and died.

Like her roller... Which is still fucking broken. So what if it's been a month? Three has other shit going on in her life. Shit like working with bitchy fifteen year-olds and not committing murder. The second thing is a little more achievable with Four, but only fucking barely. Three sent her an angry message or seven last night, and she woke up to a "Come over and yell at me because you're too stubborn to fucking see a therapist :/" today, so...

Yeah. Sometimes Three appreciates her shitty acquaintance, and sometimes Three wonders why her shitty acquaintance fucking lives in the same complex as her, but, like, three floors higher than her. Or, well... Fuck. She knows the reason, but she fucking chooses not to acknowledge it at all, ever, fuck you, why don't we get back to the topic at hand here.

"So... Why are you killing Eight's parents again?" Four asks, and then pauses. "Actually, does she even have parents? Like, biological ones. Isn't she from a tube or somethi-"

"The LESBIANS, Sarah," Three snaps. "Fucking promised her a 'Congrats! You fucking lived' party after the shitshow in Kamabo, and then fucking forgot. What the fuck? So that already pissed me off on top of getting my ass thrown in Monopoly jail, but Eight and I fell asleep and I pretended to forget about it. She left this morning, and then not even three fucking minutes later I get a stream of frantic fucking texts from Marina." She rolls her eyes dramatically. Four coos a long series of gibberish as she continues to stroke Three's face. "Like, oh, we forgot about this person that literally saved our goddamn fucking lives, but youuuuu brought it up! Therefore, we're gonna take all the goddamn credit from you. But it's fine, right?" Her voice grows more and more sickeningly sweet by the second. "We all loooooove Eight so, so, SO! much, so it's fiiiiine!" She digs her nails into her cheek and snarls, "Even if we fucking FORGOT about her."

"They're such assholes," Four mumbles in the patronizing tone you use to speak to a dumb, idiot toddler. "Total dickbags."

"Sarah. Don't be an ass."

"I'm helping you, aren't I?" She motions towards the large fuzzy blanket that's covering Three. "But, like, actually though? That's... Kind of fucked up."

"And Eight's, like, in denial about the whole forgetting thing?" Forcing some semblance of emotion into her normally flat voice, she raises the pitch a bit as she tries (and fails horribly) at imitating Eight. "Well, they've been busy. It's okay! They're idols and gay, which means it's fine to completely fucking forget me." She continues to dig her nails into her face until Four taps her hand twice and she relaxes a little. "I just. Can't fucking believe them." She sighs. Four makes the mistake of thinking Three is done. "AND it's not like they even have to do anything extravagant? She doesn't need anything fucking new, Pearl's fucking loaded. Like, living-in-Sunset Court loaded. Just... Just a fucking cake or ice cream or pie or whatever the fuck and a candle or two and those shitty paper cone hats with the tinsel on them? Invite some friends and just fucking hang out. I know that's all she really goddamn wants anyways."

Four hums softly as she continues to pat Three's face. A finger jabs Three in the beak. No one says anything about it.

"Have you told them that?" she asks.

"No," Three grumbles. "I don't even want to fucking talk to them. Just fucking thinking about it, it-" She inhales sharply and exhales dramatically. "UGH."

"Ugh," Four repeats, nodding. "So, what do you think we should do..?"

"I think," she starts, "That we should find out when the shittier, less-fun party is happening, and then plan one she'll actually like at the same time and get her to come anyways."

"Summer. Summer, look at me." Four pulls her hands away from Three's face. "That is the shittiest, worst idea I have ever heard."

"Then what do you have in mind?"

"Attend the party," she states plainly.

Three groans again and slaps Four's hands back onto her face. "AWFUL," she yells, voice muffled. "AWFUL SHITTIEST WORST IDEA EVER."

"How the fuck is that a bad idea?" Four rolls her eyes. "Just go there and be civi-"

"THAT'S THE FUCKING PROBLEM," Three snaps. "It's so hard to be nice at my day job, so imagine how fucking shitty it's going to be when I'm around people I can't fucking stand."

"A wise man once told me, 'kill 'em with kindness,'" Four says sagely. Three let out a muffled noise of incomprehensible rage.

"Fuck that! I have guns."

"Guns don't solve every problem."

"Name one problem, Sarah. Name one problem."

"Bad vision."

"LASIK surgery."

"Lasers aren't guns, they're gun adjacent." Four rolls her eyes. "Anyways. I think you should help them plan the party."

"Whyyyyyyyyyyy?" Three doesn't whine. Why would Three whine? That's right. She fucking doesn't, and fuck you, and fuck people, and die.

"One: Eight will be happy. Two: Promise you'll help them in return for a favour and then ask them to do something that isn't harmful in any way, shape, or form, but does make them pretty uncomfortable. Three: Eight will be happy. Four: Imagine the food..."

"You... Make a good argument." Fuck, when's the last time she had any decent fucking food, anyways? Three practically lives off soggy fast food, at this rate. "Still... Do I have to..?"

"Another thing a wise man once told me, 'you don't get pussy by being an asshole,'" Four says in the same sagelike tone. "Besiiiides, it's for the food."

"... God. I fucking love food," she mumbles. "And- Y'know, Eight already tolerates me as the asshole that I am? I'll fucking do it for food but I don't have to be nice about it."

"But you'll get pussy... There's a difference between a girlfriend and some quality octopu-" Three takes Four's hand in her mouth and bites down. Hard. "FUCKING SHIT, SUMMER, WHAT THE HELL?"

"'e a'et," she mumbles around the hand, tasting a little bit of ink. Four yanks her hand away and smears it on Three's shirt. Which, 1: Gross, and 2: Yeah she deserved that but that doesn't mean she likes it. "Be quiet," she repeats.

"You're such a dick sometimes," Four grumbles.

"But you love me anyways." Three places Four's slightly-bloody hand back onto her face. Gross? Maybe. Does she care? Fuck no.

"You're so chompy," she mumbles, smearing ink on Three's cheek. "If this fucking scars, I'm not talking to you again. I already have one on my face."

"I said sorry!" She sighs. "It's barely noticeable, anyways..."

"Marie won't stop asking about it..." Four shudders. "God, I hope she doesn't find out."

"No one knows about it, right..?" She shakes her head. "See? We're fine."

Four sighs. "Still, getting back on topic... I think you should help them plan the party."

"I think you should eat my piss and shit." Four moves a hand away to glare at Three. Three claps it back onto her face. "Can you plan it with me at least?"

"No." Fuck you. "I can stay with Eight and help her pick out... Party shit. Like, cake flavours and dumb party hats or something. No offense, but... Both you and her moms can be a little, uh, overbearing."

Three rolls her eyes. "Consider my eyes fucking rolled," she mutters.

"They've been considered," Four replies, slumping further into the couch. "But seriously, I think you'd stress her out with how mad you get. And... I know she thinks you're cute when you're mad, but there's a limit to it, ya know?" Three did, indeed, know, and she nods in agreement. Unfortunately, nodding is hard with two hands on your face, so she gives a thumbs up which is immediately followed by the bird. "Oh, charming."

"You know it." Before either of them could continue, Three's phone buzzes sadly on the floor, which is surprising considering both of them believed it died upon impact. She sighs. Four sighs. They all sigh. "... Can you get it?"

"Fuck no." Three pulls a hand off her face to look at Four with sad, pleading eyes. "I said fuck no." Three shoves the other hand off her face and flails her way out of the fuzzy blanket. "Hey, while you're over there, can you grab the tentacle oil?"

"Why the fuck do you need tentacle oil now?" Three snaps, grabbing her phone and then blindly looks around for the clear bottle of oil. Finding it, she squints at the label. "... You got the fucking peach-scented one?"

"It was on sale and if there's one thing you know about me, it's that I'm a slut for Bath and Body Works!" she shouts, punctuating each syllable of 'Bath and Body Works' with a clap. "... It was that or Teakwood (High Intensity) and I don't want to smell like someone who uses the Dapples of all things."

Three chooses to not grace her with a verbal reply and instead stares right into her sad, Bath-and-Body-Works-loving soul where all the clearance items go to die. It gets the message across.

"Okay," she starts, "But why the fuck do you want it now?"

"To put it on you," she replies and Three admits defeat. "You're pissed, the text is probably going to piss you off, and your tentacles are dull and sad in the way that usually only happens when you're wildly hungover." Four pauses. "Actually, are you? That would explain a lo-"

"... I feel like you of all people should know when I'm hungover or not." Plopping back onto the couch, she hands Four the bottle and lays back down, this time on her stomach. She shoves a pillow between her chin and Four's thigh, and groans loudly when she sees the contact.

"Is it a lesbian?" Four asks as she pours some of the oil into her hand and begins to rub it on Three's tentacles. Despite the fact that it smells like artificial ass, it's not too bad. Small ripples of sea-green spread from the parts where Four touches.

"Of course it's a lesbian," Three mumbles. "All of my fucking friends are lesbians."

"Justin's not a lesbian."

"Justin's not my friend."

Four pauses. "Well, I'm not a lesbian."

"... Oh, right. I forgot about that." Four snorts. "What? It's not like you've dated anyone in a while, anyways."

"Yeah, okay, I know I'm an ince-"

"You have, like, five people who all want to date you at least."

"... Right, but they're gross. Like, Derek-is-my-first-choice gross." Three shudders. "Yeah. Anyways... Did Off the Moms text you?"

"Yeah..."

Marina, 11:41 AM: Hey, I'm sorry to bother you, but would you help us with Eight's party? ;w; We were planning on having it today or tomorrow or something;;

You, UNSENT: Hey I'm sorry to bother you but would you eat my piss and shit? ;w;

"Don't send that." Three rolls her eyes and starts to relax again as Four continues to spread that shitty peach shit all over her head. A small squeak escapes her lips when Four reaches one of the tiny ones on the back of her head. "Sorry, does that hurt?"

"Just surprising." Four makes an 'mh' noise and keeps going. "So... You want me to agree?"

"Yep!" she replies, popping the 'p'. "Just be civil."

You, 11:43 AM: Of course I'd be happy to help

Marina, 11:43 AM: ! Really? Thanks so much! c:

You, 11:43 AM: Yeah totally

You, 11:44 AM: What do you need me to do?

Marina, 11:44 AM: Aaaa ty! :'

Marina, 11:44 AM: Could you help us with food preparation?

You, 11:44 AM: Its a 3 person thinhjgjjjdjwhsws

"Sarah!" Three snaps at Four wrenches the phone from her hands. "What the fuck, dude?"

You, 11:44 AM: Yeah, I will. It's fine

Marina, 11:44 AM: Um... Are you okay?

You, 11:44 AM: Yep I'm fiiifjbzbxx

"I'm helping you." She sighs. "Fucking hit the TTS button."

"Okay? And? You're getting oil everywhere." She swings for it again and misses.

You, 11:45 AM: Sorry, I dropped my phone again, I'm just clumsy todayzxx god damn it you keep hitting the button I don't give a shit give it back you fucker no fuck you don't you bite me oh my god here let me hit cancel fucking shit

Marina, 11:47 AM: .

Marina, 11:47 AM: Do you need any help?

Three slams her palm into Four's chin and gets her phone back.

"Asshole," she snarls.

"Dickweed."

You, 11:48 AM: Sorry 4 stole my fucking phone again

Marina, 11:48 AM: Does that happen a lot?

You, 11:48 AM: Sort of

You, 11:49 AM: I know she'd love to help though

Marina, 11:49 AM: Ooh would she? That would be really great! (ノ^o^)ノ

Three suppresses a gag.

"What'd she say?" Four asks, peering over her shoulder. Nosy bitch.

"It's one of the tiny fucking Anglerian emote guys," she mumbles, turning the phone to show her. "What do you bet she owns a body pillow?"

"Um..." Four's voice trails off. "Don't you also own body pillows? As in multiple?"

What the fuck. How does she know about those? She shouldn't?

Three panics inwardly.

"No?" she snaps, and then fucking realizes her defensiveness is evidence against her. "I don't own any body pillows. Why the fuck would I own a body pillow? I'm not a weeb."

"... Summer," Four says with a small sigh. "You know how many times I've looked for towels in your place, only to find the world's saddest, most-crumpled up form of Splatsune Minku?" Three freezes. "Look. I won't tell anyone if you don't tell anyone about..." She pauses for dramatic effect. "It."

Ah. It.

"No. I promise, I won't." Three means it. Her lips are fucking sealed as long as it means no one fucking knows about Splatsune. "Just- Fuck, don't tell Eight."

"I don't think Eight's the type to judge... She seems too nice for that, y'know?" Three nods. "I think you'd have to worry about Marie, if anything."

"Mh. Yeah, okay, I guess. Just... Don't fucking tell her, either. Don't tell anyone."

"How many do you have, anyways?" she asks, squishing one of the ends of Three's larger tentacles as she talks. "So far I've seen Splatsune and, like, one of the yellow ones?"

"... You mean Krakengamine?" Four snorts. "What? That's her name."

"You fucking loser," she mutters, giving her head a pat. "Anyways, yeah, Marina probably does."

Three nods. "Definitely."

You, 11:52 AM: Yea she said she'd like to take 8 out to look at shit

Marina, 11:52 AM: Oh, sure! That way it can be more of a surprise! ,,v,,

You, 11:53 AM: Right when do you want us over

Marina, 11:53 AM: Will 1 work?

"Will you be ready by 1:00?" Three asks.

"I'm literally already ready."

You, 11:53 AM: Yea

Marina, 11:53 AM: ! Awesome, I'll tell Pearl + Eight c:

Three leaves her on read.

"Hey, Sarah?"

"Hm?"

"I fucking hate you," she deadpans, shoving her phone against the couch and burying her face in the pillow.

Four insists on leaving at 12:10 because the drive is thirty minutes, which sometimes means it's forty minutes, and how dare they be late. Three insists on making Four drive, because she doesn't fucking want to go, and if Four wants her there so badly, Four can fucking take her.

Unfortunately, because it's Four's car, Four has control of the radio. Which sucks because Four has the shittiest awfulest worstest taste in music known to cephalokind.

"Please," she begs, "Please stop fucking playing Carly Mantaray."

"Nope!" Four replies cheerily, pressing the rewind button. Three groans loudly as Warm Ink starts to play.

Again.

For the fifteenth fucking time.

"Why do you even like her so much?" she almost whines. "It's overproduced pop garbage."

"... Don't fucking insult Carly in my damn car."

"Have you seen her fucking bangs? They're like sad fucking curtains."

"Summer, she literally has the same fucking haircut as you." Three sputters wildly because that's rude and also not fucking true. "Don't make broken garbage disposal noises at me. You're just mad because..." Four pauses. "Actually, why the fuck are you mad?"

"Because she SUCKS." Four rolls her eyes. "Keep those fuckers still." She rolls them again. "... Bitch."

"You know it." She hums to the tune of the song as Three continues to slump further into the seat. "Hey, you got their address?"

"Yeah." She tells Four without checking it. Four blinks with emphasis, and Three sighs. "Just make a left."

They go on like that for a little bit - Four driving shittily and almost killing everyone while Three drones instructions, and they end up at their place a little earlier than expected.

"... Can we stay in here and wait until 1:00?" Three pleads, glancing at the clock. 12:47 - she could totally handle listening to Carly Mantaray for thirteen minutes compared to the alternative.

"Don't be a baby," Four mutters with an eye roll. She pulls out her keys and Carly stops singing. Three groans loudly and slumps further into the seat. "... Don't you want to see Eight, at least?"

"I saw her this morning. I can live."

She snorts. "What, are you sick of her already? It hasn't even been a month."

"I- No, I just..." Three sighs. "... I really fucking think I'm going to kill her moms. Her... Fake moms. Marina's fucking younger than her. Her mom and shitty sister, or... No, are they dating? I think they're dating. Do you know if they're dating? Maybe I should ask... Fuck, what if they're not, then I'll look fucking creepy, and, ugh, can we please chill in here for ten years?"

"... Man, you really fucking hate them, huh?" Three nods. "I've seen you ramble like this exactly... Like, ten times in twelve years of knowing you?" That's an exact number. Does... Does Four fucking keep note of her nervous goddamn rambling? What the shit. That's fucking weird, like, Marie has her Agent 4 Factopedia, does Four have an Agent 3 Factopedia? God, that's an awful idea, Three would rather die than have her own Factopedia, like, not that she hates herself, okay, she does, but like she's not, like, obsessed with herself, y'know?, and that would be fucking. Weird. As shit. Shit and ass. Shass. Shiass. Like Four definitely knows enough about her to make a Factopedia and oh fuck, aw tits, would she make a page based off her nightmarish middle school years? God. If she fucking does, Three is either ending it or legally changing her name and moving to... Fucking somewhere. An- "Summer. Summer, you're doing it again."

"What?"

"You nervous-mumble your thoughts sometimes. It'll be fiiiine, c'mon. It's one day." Four gives her a smile. "You know how many days you've lived through already?"

"A fe-"

"Six-thousand and ninety-three." What the fuck. Why the fuck do you know this. What the absolute turtle ass. "... Look, I keep track of shit, okay?"

"Do..." Her voice is small. Much smaller than she wants it to be. "Do I have a Factopedia..?"

"... Well, I wouldn't call it that," Four states and Three feels her ink run cold. "But where do you think Marie got the idea from?"

She's sure she looks nothing short of fucking horrified.

"Whyyyyy don't we," Three starts, hastily unbuckling her seatbelt and scrambling for the car door, "Go and say hello to everyone?"

"I thought you wanted to stay in here?"

"People change," she replies hastily, slamming the door shut behind her. Four yells something at her that she doesn't catch, but she flips her off either way.

Four gets out of the car and calls, "God, you're such an asshole sometimes!"

"Sometimes?" she shoots back with a sharp laugh.

"All the time!"

"Yeah, can't argue with that." Three stops walking to let Four catch up to her. "So... Like, what are you doing, exactly..?"

"Eh, I'm gonna take Eight shopping. Buy a decoration or fifty that she likes, some snacks or a movie or something, uh... A gift, maybe. You want me to pick something up for you?"

"Uh... No, it's fine. We're just planning it today, right? I don't care how fucking powerful those lesbians are, there's no way in fuck that thing's gonna also be today. I can just pick something up for her tomorrow." Four shrugs and makes a very neutral noise of acknowledgement.

They reach the door and Three absolutely ignores the knocker and decides to just knock using her fist as loudly as possible. Four winces.

"Won't that brui-"

"Bruising is for pussies," she replies, mashing the doorbell after two seconds. "So I don't do it."

Someone inside yells "COMING!" but the house doesn't fucking quake where it stands, so it's probably Marina. Just to be an ass, Three presses the doorbell once more.

The door opens and they're greeted by Marina, who is noticeably out of breath.

"Hi," she breathes. "Come in!"

They walk in, and Three remains relatively neutral towards all the fancy fucking decor while Four absolutely loses her shit.

"Dude," she whispers. "Is that a fucking gold-plated Splattershot?"

Marina nods. "Pearl, um... She's rich." No shit. "Do you want me to go get Eight for you?"

"Yeah," Three replies, shifting slightly and pulling out her phone. Checking the time, it's a wonderful 12:54. She should have fucking stayed in the damn car. God, just being here fucking sucks. It's so fucking rich.

Marina pulls out her phone and dials her - fucking dials her, what the hell? - and starts talking in rapidfire Octarian. Three understands exactly none of it. Marina sighs and says one last thing and then hangs up.

"She'll probably be down in five minutes or so," she tells them. "Gods, I hope she doesn't hurt herself..."

"... Why would she?" Three asks, narrowing her gaze. Is Eight... Okay?

"She's just excited to see you again. I don't think she has in a month or so."

"Oh, yeah... I've been pretty busy with Ranked tournaments, my bad." She laughs a little. "It'll be nice to see her again! I think the last time we got together, like, just as the two of us, was... Before she started dating Su- Three."

"Ooh, I remember your matches! We did commentary for a few of them!" Marina presses her hands to her face with a large smile. "Aaaah, that last match in the Starfish Tourney was really fun!"

"Hell yeah, it was a pretty good match," Four agrees, grinning. "But of course we'd win. No one can beat the Calamari Crew!" Quietly, she adds, "I came up with the name when I was fifteen, okay..?"

Marina nods. "Oh, I understand! I like the name, though. It adds charm! And, say... You took a break a few months back, right? Was that because of the NSS?"

Four visibly tenses and Three decides it's time to intervene.

"Yes, it was, but really, can you talk some other time? Please?" She takes Four's hand, balled into a fist, and gives it a gentle squeeze. "So, uh, Four. How long will you have Eight?"

"Uh..." She pauses. "I don't know. A few hours, maybe? Why?"

"... Not sure. Maybe we wanted to make it a surprise, or something."

Marina's face lights up again. "Oh, that's a really good idea! I like that! But, um, aren't you taking her to go pick out decorations and stuff?"

Four swears quietly. "I'll, uh... Keep her busy, if anything?"

Marina nods. "Sure, sure!"

Phew. Three does not want to deal with the Four Joined The NSS Shitshow right now.

Before any of them could continue, Three hears loud thudding down the stairs. Looking over, she sees Eight absolutely fucking booking it. It is immediately followed by a loud yell from Pearl, presumably, and Eight yells something back. That being said... She isn't nearly as loud.

Four beams and gives her a wave, while Three smiles. Oh, hey, Eight isn't wearing Three's jacket for once. That's neat. It probably smells like shit. How often does Eight even wash the damn thing anyways? Like, sure, it smells like Three, but it also smells like ass. Should she just buy a new hoodie and wear it around for a bit to let Eight steal? Is that weird? That's probably a little weird.

Fucking... Whatever. Three can fucking worry about that some other time. There's an entire fucking party to plan (Fuck you, Four) and Three will see that through to either its end or her end.

God, she just hopes it turns out alright.

chapter 3 might be delayed, im unsure. probably should have said this earlier, but i post snippets of upcoming chapters on my tumblr. its h-roshot, for those wondering.