"Eight, you understand the rules from now on?" Pearl asks sternly, hand on her hip.
"Yes, "Eight, you understand the rules from now on?" Pearl asks sternly, hand on her hip.
"Yes, Pearl," Eight replies. She sighs quietly and rolls her eyes. "Seriously, it-"
"Repeat them," she demands.
"... What?"
"Repeat the rules. I want to make sure you know them." Eight searches Pearl's face for any traces of irony, only to find nothing. "C'mon."
She sighs dramatically this time.
"Rule one: I am not supposed to be left in a room with Three unsupervised."
"And?"
"... And if we are in the same room together, there is supposed to be no less than my arm's length of distance between us."
Pearl nods slowly. "Continue."
"Rule two: we are not to do anything sexual in nature before four months into our relationship." Pearl makes a small 'go on' motion. "... Once we've passed that point, a document must be signed by both you and her parent, or, if a parent is unavailable, Mr. Cuttlefish must sign."
"... Good," Pearl says after a long pause. "Rule three."
"Pearl, rule three is... Unnecessary." Pearl gives her a Look. Eight rolls her eyes. "It is."
"Pearlie," Marina mumbles from the dining table, not looking up from her laptop. "Even we didn't follow these rules. Bump it down to... Three months at least."
"Reena. Hush. I'm trying to keep Eight safe."
Marina looks like she's going to say something but then sighs and shakes her head. "Okay, Pearlie."
"Rule three," she says again.
Eight sighs. "When-"
"If," Pearl corrects. "If."
"If," she starts, "We have sex, we have to use a condom." Pearl continues giving her the look. "... And lube, for whatever reason."
"What do you mean, for whatever reason? It's important and I don't want you to get hurt," she huffs.
"... But why a condom? Pearl, I literally cannot get her pregnant."
"Ah, don't you have a, uh..." Pearl makes a small series of hand motions. "A..."
{Depositor?} Eight offers. Pearl nods. "... That's not how that works."
"... Why not?" Eight and Marina share a glance. "... Y'know what, never mind." Pearl clears her throat. "Rule four?"
"There's not a rule four," Eight says slowly. "You're not adding a rule four."
"I can and I will." Eight struggles to hide the glow of her rings. "Hey. Don't blue at me, I'm doing this to keep you safe."
"I... Appreciate that. Really, I do, but... It's fine, Pearl, really."
She shakes her head 'no.' "Look, Eight. I know you don't want to hear it, but Three is still untrustworthy." Eight cocks an eyebrow. "Don't eyebrow at me either. What if she has an STD or something?"
"A what?"
"Sexually transmitted disease," Marina explains, voice flat. "It's, ah... Cestodas a deposos."
Eight chews at the inside of her cheek as she thinks. "... Three wouldn't have worms."
Pearl visibly double-takes. "You get worms? Worms on your crotch?"
"In," Marina corrects, and Pearl blanches. "From what I've heard - not from experience, type B's are designated removal rather than donor - they burrow beneath the protective membrane on the outsi-"
"OKAY," Pearl interrupts. "Okay. Okay. Dick worms. Got it. I don't want- I don't need to know any more. Okay. Look. Three won't have crotch worms though I wouldn't put it past her, but-"
"She doesn't," Eight comforts. Pearl gives her a Look. "... It smells."
This time, Pearl retches.
"It's not like they hurt," Marina mumbles. "Still a health hazard, but if they're caught early you don't need any surgery..."
"Reena," she begs. "Please. Stop fucking talking."
"What? It's not like you have a depositor anyways, even if they look similar..." Marina shakes her head, brushing a tentacle out of her face. "Anyways, I don't think Eight really needs all of those rules. They're excessive, and I'm sure Eight knows how to navigate a relationship... Isn't it better to let them move at their own pace?"
Pearl makes a soft series of 'hmm' noises with her hand on her chin as if she's some sort of cool detective and not someone who thinks mayo is okay to eat out of a bowl by itself. After a decently-sized period of Thinking Sounds and squinting at Eight, she shakes her head. "No."
"Whyyy?" Eight whines, rings flashing bright blue for a second before dimming down. "Pearl, I'm... Literally an adult. I saved the world, you know."
"I'm more adult than you," she retorts, rolling her eyes. "And I also helped in the world saving."
"Fine, but Marina's younger than you and I know for a fact you didn't follow any of those rules you just told me!" She sighs. "I know you want me to be safe or whatever, but I'm capable of taking care of myself. At least... When it comes to Three. You trust me, right..?"
Pearl opens her mouth to speak but then closes it. She glares at Eight before her gaze softens, then sighs softly.
"... Fine. I'll get rid of the written consent thing, but I just... I don't want you to get hurt." Gingerly, she takes Eight's hand in hers. Her hands are so tiny in comparison to Eight's own, and so... Delicate. Pearl's lived a life of luxury, after all. Yes, they're calloused from her dualies, but they're not scarred, not at all. Her fingers gently trace the pale purple scars littering Eight's hand as she looks back up at her. "You've been through a lot, Eight. I... I worry about you. That's all."
"... Thank you, Pearl," Eight mumbles as she gently slips her hand out of Pearl's grip. "I... Appreciate it."
"It's nothi-"
The doorbell rings. Pearl's head snaps towards the door and, at a volume much louder than normal, yells, "COMING!"
Eight's ears also ring. And her rings, those burn. The doorbell, though, that stays unburned and uncharred.
... Unlike their microwave.
Thank you, Marina.
"Eight, you use the Octo Shot Replica, right?" Marina asks, closing her laptop and slipping it into its bag. She slings it over her shoulder.
"Yeah, why?"
"Just wondering," is her response, which is stupid and vague and obviously a lie. Why does Marina need to know, though? Unless... She actually is just wondering...
Hm...
"Okay."
A few seconds of silence pass and Eight feels really awkward, so she turns around and pokes her head into the foyer.
"Oh, there she is!" Pearl exclaims with a grin. It's practiced, Eight knows. "Hey, Three and Four are here."
Oh! That they are. Both are carrying, um... Something. Two somethings. One something for each, in fact. Boxes! Wrapped in, uh... Stuff.
Three's box is a little shabbier than Four's... And also smaller. The paper is a little crinkled and more bunched-up in spots. Eight can also spy an ungodly amount of tape on the bottom of it. It's white, with a small pink floral pattern on it, and a sort of tacky red bow slapped on top of it. If Eight tried to set it down so that the ribbon faced upwards, it would roll a little on the side that's probably supposed to be the bottom.
Four's box, on the other hand, looks professional. It's flatter than Three's, but still longer. And also still a box, except it's rectangular. The paper is white, just like how Three's is, but it has a golden swirl pattern on it instead of flowers. There's no ribbon on it, though, but there is a small paper label stuck to it. In neat black handwriting are the words 'To: Eight' and 'From: Four' on it. That's a nice touch... Eight still kind of prefers the tacky bow.
Eight didn't actually think people wrapped their gifts. She thought it was another fake thing, like coupons or high school spirit weeks, something only made up for movies and the like.
"Eight, hey!" Four gives her a wave and a smile that looks not fake. Take notes, Pearl. "Sorry, are we early, or..?"
"It's 6:00 PM," Three mutters. "On the dot, actually." Looking up from her phone, she gives Eight a tiny wave. "Uh... Howdy."
Something about Three looks off, but she can't exactly place it. Her mask's never looked so defined, though... Maybe it's the nose piercing? She got rid of the stud and replaced it with a ring... But that's not quite it, either.
"Three, Four, hi!" Eight rushes over and crushes both of them in a hug. Or... Well, she hugs Four and crushes Three, probably, because Three lets out a loud series of stammers, or... No, a noise that's kinda similar to "Gughgnfffffshhshsh..." or something like that. Maybe a little dishwashier. Pearl clears her throat - rule one. Eight swears beneath her breath and takes a step back. "Um... How have you guys been?" Pearl tried teaching Eight the manners of hosting before..! But, you know, they're... They're boring. Eight's sort of regretting not paying attention to her lesson right now, though. "Ah, do you need me to take your jackets or anything..?"
Three pauses and looks over at Four. Because Four is the only wearing a jacket. Haha... Crap.
"Oh, I'm alright," she replies. "Thank you though!"
It's at moments like these where Eight sort of kind of wishes Tartar exploded the word, because she wouldn't have to live with these kinds of mistakes.
But.
Ahem.
ANYWAys,
"We've been alright, I guess," Three says with a shrug. "Fucking Justin almost set the scones on fire, though."
"What's a scone?" Eight asks. "Pearl never lets us get any since she says they suck."
"But they do!" she snaps. "Scones are the worst."
From the other room, Marina calls, "Pearlie, it's cute that you think that!"
"They're, uh... Some kind of baked good," Three explains. "They're not my favourite, but they're not bad."
"They're great, Eight. Don't listen to them," Four says lowly, placing a hand on Eight's shoulder. It is at this exact moment that Eight realizes she can literally be closer to Four than Three. You know, Three.
Her girlfriend.
... Whatever. It's fine.
"Hey, uh... Pearl?" Three holds up her present. "Where should I put this?"
"Oh, uh... I'll take that," she replies, walking over. Three hands her the box and Pearl looks at Four expectantly. After a moment of hesitation, Four gives Pearl her gift. "Cool. Thanks."
"So, um..." Eight shifts where she stands. "Did Pearl tell you about the rules too?"
Three scowls and sighs with a small nod. "They're stupid as hell." She rolls her eyes. "I have to get my mother's blessing to eat you out?"
"To... To what?" Three bites her lip as her cheeks tinge orange. "Three, are you a cannibal?"
Four starts cackling.
"Never mind," Three mutters hastily, her blush growing in intensity. "Why don't we-"
"You can't just say that kind of shit and move on," Four interrupts, slinging an arm over Three's shoulder. "It's when you-"
Three punches her.
Four shoves Three off her and glares at her. "What the fuck, Summer?"
"I didn't bite you this time," is all she says.
What..?
"Three, you bite people?" Three pauses and shrugs. "Why?"
"She fucking bites me all the time," Four grumbles, rubbing at the spot where Three hit her. "And her beak is hooked and disgustingly sharp so I pretty much always end up bleeding."
Ooookay, that's a little odd... Oh, wait, if they bleed, then they scar, right? Would it... Be a stretch if..?
"Four?" Eight tilts her head to the side slightly, furrowing her brow in thought. "Is that what..." Eight taps at her bottom lip and Four mirrors the action before her eyes go wide. "Is that what that's from?"
"NO," she says hastily, covering her mouth with her hand. "It's not. I told you, she, uh. She punched me, or something, yes."
Eight shifts her gaze over to Three, whose face is equally flushed. "Yep. I punched her real good. It was a punch, from my hand, from my hand, on her face, not my face, and it wasn't from my face either, mhm."
"... You can tell me the truth. I won't judge."
"You don't think it's dumb of us?" Three blurts out. Four kicks her. "Shit, sorry, it-"
"You're also really bad liars," Eight explains. "I promise I won't tell anyone, but... Three bit you? First of all, when, and secondly, did you have to go to the hospital or something? There is a literal piece of your flesh missing."
"Err... Yeah, it was, like... Right after we stopped dating, I guess?" Four rubs at her arm. "Uh... We were, like, fifteenish, I wanna say? She was drunk-"
"Like you weren't?" Three scoffs. Four glares at her. "I'm just saying."
"Fine, we were drunk and she was in hysterics over being a bad kisser, so I decided to... Teach her, and then I think she was trying to be sexy or something, and she, uh... Bit me, but waaaay too hard." Four sighs, still blushing. "And we couldn't, like, just explain what was happening because like I said, we were drunk, and that was fairly illegal, so I hid in a puddle of ink for a bit while Three cried in the bathroom."
Eight looks over at Three for some sort of confirmation. When Three nods, Eight sighs.
"That's... That's kind of pathetic, actually," she says quietly. "And- Wait, after you stopped dating?"
"Yeees..?" Four nods slowly. "We only dated a little in freshman year, really. It was too awkward."
"You're... Telling me you're not dating now?"
Three buries her head in her hands and lets out a quiet series of syllables that are too muffled to discern but are probably vulgar nonetheless. Four, on the other hand, makes a noise similar to an Octocopter being punted across the room as she chokes on her own spit.
"Eight, we are dating," Three finally says. "Four and I get people mistaking us for a couple a lot, but I didn't think you of all people would..."
"No, really, you... You guys aren't?" Three gives her a flat look. "You guys are actually just friends?"
"I want to go home," Three states, crossing her arms.
"Well, having multiple partners was pretty common back in Domes... So long as you love them equally, it's not like it matters, and it makes it easier if one of them dies, I guess." Judging by the look of vague horror that the two of them are giving her, Eight assumes that death is probably not as much of a problem on the surface and that simply loving other people out of fear that your loved one could be dead the next day is a little odd. That being said, she just shrugs a little and offers a small smile. "Cultural differences, I guess!"
"That's... A hell of a difference," Four mumbles. "But... Yeah, polymorous people exist here, but it's not super widespread. Also I think I'd rather die than kiss Three again."
"Well, I mean... If you ignore all the kissing and stuff, you two are practically dating."
"... If we ignore all the romantic stuff, we are romantically involved?" Three asks dryly. How dare she mock Eight! "I get what you're trying to say, but... Come on."
"There's more than that, though..." In July, right after the Kamabo incident, Three had become Four's unofficial shadow. Three was... So incredibly passive too. And Four was, for lack of a better term, aggressive. No, not quite aggressive, maybe... Protective. That's the word Eight's thinking of. She was snappy and stressed, more likely than not, and probably over Three. Or... Mostly over Three. But Eight remembers catching moments of the two when they thought they were alone in the Cabin, moments where Three was curled up in Four's arms and crying, moments when Four was soft, when she was vulnerable, when... When Eight knew they hated her.
When Eight knew it was her fault.
Realizing she had zoned out for a bit, Eight shakes her head slightly and forces herself to smile again. "Just... Never mind, actually. Sorry, that's just my bad."
"Sooo, wait, when we were shopping, were you hitting on me?" Four asks.
"... I don't think so, no." Four goes quiet and nods slowly. "I mean, you're pretty, don't get me wrong, but..."
"No, no, I get it..." Four clears her throat, blushing slightly. "I was just kind of wondering, that's all."
"Okay." A part of Eight wonders if Four was disappointed by her answer. Another part wonders why she cares either way. "Uh, so... How have things been since we last saw each other?"
"I... Haven't done a whole lot," Eight admits. "Pearl taught me how to scramble an egg, if it counts?"
"How much mayo did she ask you to put in?" Three asks. Eight catches a small strip of blue flash on her mantle.
"None, actually." Her mantle flashes yellow-green for a second. "They came out okay, but I added too much salt."
"Huh," is the response Eight gets. "Okay."
"Yep." Hm. Well, Eight failed the convoluted and difficult task of small talk! It seems that the only answer now is death.
...
Wow...
Silence...
... Sure is awkward...
...
...
... Really awkward...
...
Hm...
... Eight is seriously considering jobs in the 'not being alive' industry...
"... Are you guys okay?"
Eight practically jumps out of her skin as she turns around to see Pearl. She's hovering in the doorway with her hand on her hip. Eight opts to give her a small wave.
"Don't you remember what I told you, Eight? Come on." Eight rolls her eyes and Pearl sighs. "Here, come in."
Pearl leads them into the dining room, a room that they rarely ever use since it's fit to seat about twelve people and there are barely three in their house. It looks a lot less formal than it usually does, which is good. It... Also happens to look a lot like a children's birthday party, but whatever.
In the corner of the room is a cleared-off table that used to hold important stuff like Vases that Aren't Holding Anything and Candles. On that cleared-off table are the two gifts that Three and Four brought. Cool beans! Oh, and... A yellow plastic bag that's not a gift. Still, cool beans! Very cool beans.
"... Do you need us to do anything?" Three asks.
Pearl furrows her brow as she thinks and then shakes her head 'no'. "Just chill out here, I guess. And... I had a question I wanted to ask you. Can't remember it right now, though."
"You were mad about something Three said," Eight offers. "But I tuned you out, so I don't know either."
Pearl sighs again. "Great."
"Something I said..?" Three mutters beneath her breath as if no one is supposed to hear it.
"Did you say something, Three?" Pearl frowns slightly when Three shakes her head. "Fine. The food's not done yet, but it should be soon. Hopefully the others get here before then."
"The others..?" What others? Marina only said Three and Four were coming... "Pearl, what do you mean?"
Pearl's eyes widen before she slaps her hand against her forehead. It's a perfect juncture of her palm and her face. You might even call it... A facepalm.
Eight is clever.
"Never mind," she growls. "Anyways, you guys... Have fun. I have to make sure this shit doesn't burn."
"Wait, Pearl!" Halfway through the doorway, Pearl turns around. "Um... Where are the party cones?"
"Uhh..." Pearl's voice trails off as she looks around the room. "In the yellow bag behind the gifts. That all?"
"Yeah," Eight says with a nod. "Thank you."
Pearl nods as she leaves the room. Eight walks over to the bag and retrieves three party cones. Because they're not hats no matter what Four says. Marina refers to them as party cones after all, and Marina is smart when it comes to words and stuff.
Eight puts on her party cone and Three snickers a little. Eight hands one to Four, who puts it on, and then she holds one out to Three.
"No," Three says flatly. "I am not wearing a party hat."
"Oh," Eight replies sweetly. "You don't have a choice."
Eight advances when Three backs up, but Three backs up into the wall and immediately admits defeat. A good choice on her part, really! Eight puts the party cone on in one swift motion. Her hands cup Three's face and tilt it up to look straight at Eight.
"What are you do-" Eight cuts her off with a kiss. In the corner of Eight's vision, she thinks she spies Four jump a little.
No matter! Four is not important right now.
Buut, Eight does, in fact, find herself in the tiniest bit of a pickle. On one hand, Eight doesn't want to stop kissing Three, like, even more than usual. It has something to do with disrespecting authority, or, in this case, the lone inkling Nurser known as Pearl. Because that's what she's being right now. A big ole stupid Nurser.
On the other hand, this is probably at least a little awkward for Four. Like, if Eight was in Four's position right now, and Four was in Eight's position right now and Three and Four were actually dating and not just tricking everyone, and Four pressed Three against a wall and just started kissing her, Eight would probably feel a little bit like wanting death.
So. Hm. Maybe Four actually is important now.
But while Eight is contemplating the morality of kissing her girlfriend, Three ultimately makes the final decision because she just shoves Eight away.
"Pearl," is her reasoning. Eight sighs and nods. "Sorry."
"Your cone is off-center," Eight informs her while pointing at it.
Three just shrugs. Like a butt. Like a stupid butt that doesn't care about properly wearing her cone.
"So, um..." Eight takes a few steps back. "Who else is coming, exactly?"
Three thinks for a bit. "I think the old man?"
"Pearl said others, though... Who else?" Three shrugs. Helpful.
"She probably misspoke?" Four offers.
Eight is beginning to suspect that Pearl did not, in fact, misspeak, and all of them are collectively hiding the identities of the extra mysterious extra party guests from her.
Fine! Lie to Eight. Lie straight to her face! She doesn't care, not at all!
Not. A. Smidge.
"You guys know who they are," Eight says with a pout. "Tell meeeee."
"I don't know anything," Four lies. "Nothing at all."
"Pleaaaase?" Eight bats her eyes. Four seems thoroughly unconvinced. "Do you take payments?"
"How mu-"
"NO," Three interrupts. "She doesn't."
Four mouths something at her. Three raises her middle finger. It's apparently rude, but Eight has no real idea what it means.
"Can't you just tell me?" Eight pleads.
"Pearl will kill me if I do," Three replies and then takes a seat on the ground. She leans back against the wall and her party cone gets pushed forward. "So I can't."
"She won't kill Four, right?"
Four shakes her head. "Chompy McFuckface might, though."
"I will," Chompy McFuckface agrees. "And I'll put an untoasted bagel on her grave."
"You wouldn't dare!" Four places a hand on her chest and looks at Three as if Three just brutally murdered her children in a way that especially doesn't honour the gods. It's kind of funny, actually.
"Oh, but I would." Three smirks tauntingly at her.
"You bitch." Four opens her mouth to hurl more insults at her but Eight has one, teeny-tiny little question that needs to be answered...
"Guys? What's a bagel?"
Three and Four look at her as if she just told them the saddest story ever but the story was also offensive. Eight has never felt so judged and pitied at the same time.
"You're shitting me, right?" Three asks.
Four's mantle ripples with dark reds and pale blues. "Eight, what has Off the Hook been teaching you?"
"... Can I just get an answer?" They make it seem like bagels are some... Cultural icon or something. Which... They might be! Eight doesn't know.
"It's like bread, but it's in a ring?" Three offers. "Uh, I think you boil them before you bake them, and..."
"They fuck," Four says bluntly. "Bagels fuck."
"It's a... Sex food?" That just sounds like a health hazard, but if they really are ring-shaped... "What..?"
"She's trying to say she likes them. Though... I mean, I guess you could fuck a bagel if you really wanted to? I wouldn't put it past her," Three explains with a small shrug. Hm. Eight doesn't like that mental image.
Four does the 'I am a Victorian woman and you just showed your ankle in front of my kids' pose with an offended noise to boot. "I would never fuck a bagel, excuse you." She clears her throat and crosses her arms. "They're a breakfast food that you cut in half horizontally and you toast and put spreads on."
"They kinda suck, honestly," Three mumbles. "I don't understand why you like them so much."
"Because I prepare them correctly? You don't toast them or cut them. You sit there and munch on your raw bagel of sadness like some... Bathtub drain filth." Bathtub drain filth..? Hm, that's new...
"I don't cut them because I'm lazy, Sarah. And you took my toaster. You know, the nice one that my auntie got me for my eighteenth birthday." Three huffs. "It was nice, too. You could fit two bagels in it and it had a built-in crumb tray."
"You could just come in and take it," Four says. "You have a key to my apartment, you know."
"But what if you're taking a shit or something? I don't want to open the door yelling 'TOASTER' while you're tucked away having the shit of the century." Three scowls and rolls her eyes. "I have manners, unlike you."
"You? You're trying to tell me that you have manners? Hah!" Four scoffs. "As if."
Eight shakes her head. All this over... A breakfast food? Maybe it's another surface intricacy she doesn't get, but... No, probably not. It's most likely just the two of them being stupid and dumb as always.
They're both butts.
Stupid... Squid butts, or something. Name pending, so yeah. Take that.
Eight catches Marina walk by the entrance to the dining hall and waves at her. Marina waves back and stops walking when Eight skirts around the two squabbling fools.
"What do you need?" Marina asks.
Eight shrugs. "They're fighting over bagels and I don't know what they are." At that, Eight hears Three yell "Go FUCK yourself, Aunt Susan's lemon bars are fucking AMAZING."
"I... See." Marina sighs. "Well, I was going to go get your gift from the garage."
"The garage..?" Eight gives her a look. "Why is it in the garage?"
"Well, I had to make it there... You know how Pearl gets." Gods, does she ever! Take your shoes off at the door, go to bed at a "reasonable" hour (4:00 AM is plenty reasonable!), don't eat before dinner... She really is just a miniature Nurser at this rate. She'd make... What was her name..? Sa... Sandra..? No, that's not it, it was...
It was something that wasn't that.
Whatever.
Pearl would still put her to shame... Whoever she is.
"Yes," Eight agrees with a sigh. "I do." Suddenly, it hits her. "Wait, you got me something?"
"Of course I did!" Marina rolls her eyes. "Seriously, you think I wouldn't?"
"I guess you would, but... What is it?"
"I'm not telling," she replies flatly. Darn! It was worth a shot... "You'll find out soon anyways."
Eight pouts at her. Marina remains unaffected.
"Okay..." Eight mutters dejectedly. "But can you at least tell me who else is coming?"
"... They didn't tell you?" Eight shakes her head. "Figures... They're-"
The doorbell rings.
Marina turns around and calls, "COMING!" Somewhere else in the house, Pearl also yells it.
Hm... Interesting..!
Eight trails behind her as Marina half-runs, half-walks to the front door. She opens it and smiles.
"Hey!" Marina greets.
"Ah, ahoy there!" That voice! Those bulging eyes! That... Beard! It's him! "Marina, it's good to see ya! How've you been!"
"Good, good! Come in, here." Marina steps aside to let Mr. Cuttlefish walk in. "Did you get them to come, too?"
"Correctamundo! They're getting something from the car?" Them? Who..? "Agent 8! It's good to see you too."
"Likewise, sir!" He holds out his arms for a hug. Eight doesn't crush him like she would anyone else because she's scared she might kill him.
"Thought I told you to cut it out with all that 'sir' nonsense," he chides. "You've been well, I hope? Surface treating you well?"
"Sorry... And, um, yes, the surface has been really nice so far. It's so colorful. The food's a lot better than the Metro's, too," Eight replies, pulling away.
"Aye, it is." His grip on his Bamboozler is shaky, but he looks healthier than when he was in the Metro. "I heard you and the other agents have been getting along?"
"Yes, we have," Eight says. Marina adds, "Maybe a little too well."
"Oh?" Mr. Cuttlefish laughs. "Well, that's good. I'd rather them be friends than enemies again!" Eight grimaces at his comment but doesn't say anything. "Now, Agent 8... Have you met my grandkids yet?"
"No, I haven't." Eight's heard of his grandkids before, and that they're both agents, but she's never met them. They were always busy whenever Eight stopped by the Cabin, after all. "Why?"
"I brought them with me!" Oh, are they the mysterious extra guests? Interesting... "Hopefully they'll hurry it up a little."
"Sorry we took so long!" Eight recognizes that voice. "Parking's a nightmare."
"I think you're just bad at driving." She recognizes them very well.
"At least I can drive!" Oh my god. "Plus, have you ever tried to park a stick shift?"
"How hard can it be?" Oh my god. "It's a car, right? You just do it!"
"There you two are! Be a little more punctual next time, would you?" Mr. Cuttlefish shakes his head. "These are my darling granddaughters, Agents 1 and 2."
"Hi!" one of them says with a wave. "Maybe you just know us as the Squid Sisters..?"
"I think she does..?" She shakes her head. "Anyways, I'm Marie, and that's Callie. You're Agent 8, right? We've heard a lot of good things about you."
"Oh my god," says Eight, because oh my god. "You're- I..."
"Is she okay?" Callie asks, tilting her head slightly.
"Probably just starstruck," Marie replies, dismissing it with a small wave. "I mean, it's sort of common from octolings..."
"Really?" Callie blinks, pressing her hands to her face. "I haven't noticed at all..!"
"I mean, I was like that at first, too," Marina admits. "You're kind of a big deal, you know?"
"Mmm, I guess, but stiiiiiiill...! We're just inklings, ya know?"
"Inklings that are international celebrities," Marie comments. "It's flattering though."
"You're very humble, Marie," Callie chirps with a smile. "Anyways, are the others here?"
"Mhm," Marina replies with a nod. "They're in the dining hall. Follow me."
Marina leads them back to the dining hall. Four has Three tackled to the ground while Three has a white-knuckled on a fistful of Four's tentacles.
"Just set your stuff on the table over th- Are you guys okay?" Marina asks.
Three shoves Four off her unceremoniously. "Yep. One-hundred percent."
"Were you guys fighting?" Callie asks.
"Looked more like another f-word kinda deal," Marie observes with a wry smirk. "If you catch my drift..."
"That's nasty, Marie," Four mutters, shaking her head. "I wouldn't dare."
"Ahoy there, agents!" Mr. Cuttlefish greets. "It's been a while."
"Um, hi, Captain! Yeah, it... Has." Three pushes herself up and dusts herself off. She doesn't help Four up, but Four grabs onto her hand and pulls herself up nonetheless. "You've been good?"
"Of course!" He shakily walks over and shakes Three's hand. "You look a lot better than before, too."
Three grimaces slightly. "Yeah. I feel better as well."
"Good, good..." Eight rapidly tunes out their chatter. She's still more preoccupied with the Entire Squid Sisters. In the FLESH. In the ROOM. In the... AAAAAAAAAA.
"So, you're Agent 8? Or do you just go by Eight, or do you have a name-name?" Callie asks, getting dangerously close and taking Eight's hands in hers. "Unless Eight is your name-name, but whatever, and-"
"Callie, I think you're freaking her out."
Callie's eyes widen as she takes a step back, letting go of Eight's hands. "Sorry, sorry..! I'm just excited to meet you, that's all."
"Um. Yep, yeah. Me too," Eight stammers. A Squid Sister touched her. She held Eight's hand, like, in her hand. Eight is never washing her hands again. "Eight, is, uh, my middle name, but it's what I go by."
"Is it..?" Callie blinks. Eight thinks her eyes are pretty. Like, not Three-levels, but Eight hasn't really seen eyes like Callie's before. The mask around them is more angular, with a smaller, second point on the bottom. Her scleras have a slightly green hue to them, too, one that Eight hasn't seen in photos of promo art for the two. In pictures, they look more like Marie's with the mask shape and eye color. In person, though... "What's your first name?"
"I don't go by it," Eight mumbles. "I'd prefer not to share."
"Ohh. Okay. Sorry, then!" Callie gives her a smile and Eight thinks she's blind now, would you look at that?, Eight won't look, 'cause she can't, nope, and she has no regrets either. "Sooo..."
"Are you and Three finally a thing?" Marie asks. "I never actually got any confirmation..."
"Um... Yes, we're dating."
Marie raises an eyebrow. "Really? How long?"
"A little under a month," she tells her.
"And she didn't even bother to tell me..?" Marie grumbles, shaking her head. "That's good, though, but... Who asked who out?"
"I did." Marie nods as if she was expecting that kind of answer. "Why?"
"Just curious." Eight's starting to get sick of people saying stuff like 'just curious' or 'just wondering' when there's probably more to it every time! "So... You like the surface?"
Eight nods wholeheartedly. "It's amazing. There's so much here, and it's so colorful, too. I don't ever want to go back."
"I'm glad you like it," Marie says with a smile. "You saved us all, you know. We're forever thankful."
Eight now understands Three's reaction of turning into a squid and not moving.
"It's, um... It's nothing," Eight replies instead of shifting into octopus form and never leaving it. "I'm sure anyone would have done it if they were me, anyways."
"See, Marie? She's actually humble! You could learn a few things, ya know?" Callie teases with a grin.
Marie shakes her head. "I'm plenty humble."
"You literally have a wall of trophies in plain view in your apartment."
She could just be proud of them! Marie earned them, after all...
"I'm proud of them, Callie. I earned them myself." Is Marie a mind-reader? That would be cool, but also kind of terrifying, but still cool! If Eight was to trust anyone with psychic abilities, it would probably be a Squid Sister. "Besides, you have a bunch of Squid Sisters posters in yours."
"That's our brand, silly! I'm promoting us."
"... You're promoting our brand in your apartment?" Callie nods. "How many people do you bring to your apartment, exactly..?"
"That's private, Marie! You don't need to know." Marie narrows her gaze. "I'm not telling~!"
"So you're telling me you're either a massive incel or a total slut?" she asks dryly.
"Neither! I'm neither..!" Callie waves her hands in front of her in the universal 'Never mind!' gesture. "And you know, you're one to talk... Our emails are synced, so I keep getting messages talking about your online purchases, and I'm sick of them! I don't need to know about that."
Marie's face turns a dark lime. "Y... You're shitting me, right?"
"Bruce," Callie whispers with an overly-sharp grin.
Marie turns around and leaves the room.
"What was... That about?" Eight asks, cocking her head to the side.
Callie laughs a little to herself. "Nothing, nothing... So, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
"No!" Eight says too hastily. "No, I don't. Go ahead."
"Do you remember what region you were from?" Oh, no. Eight already doesn't like this question. "I mean, I heard your class used to be in Octo Ravine and Octo Valley."
"... Ravine to Valley. I was a transfer."
Callie nods slowly. "Mm, okay. You remember your squadron? I've just never seen one of you in the face, it's amazing! All the Exterminations happened before I got there, which was super disappointing..."
The... Exterminations..?
"Exterminations?" Eight repeats. "I don't... Remember those."
"... Ah. Maybe that's for the best, then." Eight doesn't like the name, either. She'd have to agree. "Well, still! Do you actually have rings, or is that just talking about jewelry?"
Eight flashes her rings blue for a second or two before letting them dim down again.
"Oh, that's really cool..!" she gushes.
"Um, if you... Don't mind me asking, how do you know all of this, exactly?" Eight asks. "I didn't think octolings were common knowledge here..."
"Around the time Three left for Kamabo, I got squidnapped to Octo Canyon." ... Oh. "It wasn't all bad, minus the brainwashing," she says with a shrug.
"Are, um... Is that why your eyes are like that?"
"... No," she replies. Her voice isn't happy any longer. It seems void of everything, flat and dull. "It's not."
"... Oh. Um, sorry, then."
Callie doesn't respond.
Eight shifts where she stands. Fuck. She totally fucked up, didn't she? God. Dammit.
"I'm, um... Gonna go check on Pearl, if that's okay?"
Callie nods. "Sure," she responds, though her voice isn't as empty as before, but it isn't anywhere close to how it seemed to normally be. "Have fun."
She won't!
Eight leaves and walks into the kitchen. Pearl and Marie are talking about... Something. More importantly... Food! It's not often that Pearl actually gets into cooking, although she normally cooks each night. There's a difference between doing something and, like, really doing something, though. Don't think about it too much.
"Hi," she greets awkwardly and waves.
Pearl waves back. "Howdy, kid."
"Kid..?" Marie repeats quietly. At a normal volume, she greets Eight again.
"What are you guys making?" she asks, walking over. Whatever it is, it smells good.
"It's, uh... Stuff. We were just about to bring it out," Pearl explains. Stuff. How wonderful. "Do you mind grabbing a plate? There's just one there."
Eight nods and takes it, following them out back into the dining hall.
"Oh shit," Three says because she's articulate.
"Indeed," Four agrees because she's something, adjectives are hard and Eight is running out of them. "Wait, is this what you were trying to help them with?"
"Maybe."
"Oooh, Pearl, did you make those?" Callie asks, hands pressed to her face. She... Sounds normal again. Is it fake..? "They look great!"
"I helped," is all Marie says when she sets down the plates.
"She can spit rhymes and cook? Why, what can't she do!" Mr. Cuttlefish exclaims. Well, Pearl can't ride a bike, nor can she properly do the laundry, but no one needs to know that...
"Hey, so, Eight," Pearl starts, looking over her shoulder at her. "You wanna open gifts after you eat, or..?"
"I'd like to eat first."
Pearl nods. "Hurry up, then. I... Have to go find Marina."
"Check the garage!" Eight calls after her as she leaves the room.
Pearl only gives her a thumbs-up in a response.
... Dork.
Pearl and Marina rejoin the group halfway through eating. Marina smells vaguely like sweat, burning, and metal, which isn't always a good combination. And, because that's what Three smelled like the other day after the microwave was set aflame, Eight can only worry.
But Pearl doesn't seem worried! And Marina doesn't seem worried, either. And... That probably means Eight shouldn't be worried, but the sight of the slightly-charred gift on the corner of the cleared-off table does make her a little nervous.
But still, it's relatively uneventful. It's, dare Eight say... Nice. Ewugh. Look at Eight, admitting she likes spending time with her friends. Gross!
Pearl forced Four to sit between Three and Eight, though. Which was dumb. Other than that, it was nice.
"Oh, Three," Pearl says, pointing her fork at Three as she talks. "I remembered my question."
"... Which is?"
"Eh, it's not for you but it's about you, I guess. Eight!" Eight looks up. "Do you think tongue piercings are for sucking dick?"
What?
A series of green ripples pass through Three's mantle. "Oh my god," she says flatly. "You did not."
"... I don't know what that is," Eight says. Or... No, she knows what the words mean, just... Not so much in that order. "Can you explain?"
Four quietly explains it to Eight in a semi-hushed voice. Eight accepts the knowledge into her life and now knows she will never be able to look at most people in this room the same way ever again.
"I don't see how a piercing can specifically be for anything like that? I mean... I guess it has its uses, but... Why do you ask?"
"Three said they were." Pearl crosses her arms. "And she's wrong."
"... You know Three has a tongue piercing, right?"
Pearl's eyes go wide. "No shit. You're kidding, right?"
"Pearl, I think I would know best out of everyone in this room." Eight casts a glance over at Three, whose mantle is constantly flaring with green as she holds her head in her hands. "Three..? Are you o-"
"Fucking peachy," she responds in a tone filled with anguish, hatred, and mortification, otherwise known as the exact opposite of being 'fucking peachy.' "Thanks for asking."
"... Aren't you a lesbian, Three?" Callie asks. "Why..?"
"It- It's not, like, exclusively for cock, but..." Three groans into her hands. "Forget it. I hate all of you."
"You know, this all hinges on the idea that Three actually gets any," Marie says. "Which I highly doubt."
Three goes quiet.
"Can we please," she starts, almost begging, "Move onto something else?"
"So that's a no," Marie replies with a snicker. "Didn't expect much else."
"I can change that?" Eight offers. Silence settles over the table save for the wet slap of Three turning into a squid.
"Oi, you're gonna get ink everywhere!" Pearl snaps. Three does not budge. "Fucking hell..."
"You say that like you haven't before," Marina says. "Once I hugged you and you shifted-"
"YES, MARINA, THANKS-"
"- and landed right on my feet. You know, I didn't think you were-"
"THAT'S WONDERFUL, REENA, CAN WE PLEASE-"
"- that heavy, but I ended up in a cast anyways..." She sighs, smiling fondly. "My precious Pearlie liked cake a little too much~!"
Pearl suddenly disappears beneath the table with another wet slap.
"Um," Mr. Cuttlefish says, reminding everyone of his presence. "What in the squit just happened?"
"Don't ask," Four, Eight, Callie, Marie, and Marina all say in haunting unison.
He didn't.
About ten minutes later, everyone had pretty much finished eating. Four and Marie were helping with dishes, much to Eight's chagrin because she wanted to help, dangit! Callie and Marina were talking enthusiastically about something. Pearl quickly found herself by Mr. Cuttlefish's side as they caught up on things.
And that left Eight to deal with Three.
Wahoo.
It's kind of cute how Three just... For lack of a better term, breaks when Eight suggests anything vaguely, well... Suggestive. Still, isn't this a little excessive? Ten minutes was... A while. And to imagine what Three's reaction would have been if Eight was serious! She dreads that day...
"Hi, Three," Eight mumbles as she sits down beneath the table. The table is too short - or Eight is too tall - to really fit Eight, so her head presses against the bottom of the table as she cranes her neck to sort of fit. "Are you doing alright..?"
Three doesn't respond. Talking is hard when you are a squid.
Eight gently pokes at her leftmost tentacle. Five pokes, and Three curls the limb in towards herself. Eight pokes the other limb, and Three does the same thing.
Quietly, Eight laughs. "You're cute, you know."
Three's entire body lights up pink. Ah... Maybe she said she wrong thing.
"... Can I get you to shift back?" Green! "Is that a no?" Three's body flashes white once. "Is one flash yes?" Same response. "Is two no, then..?" Same response again. "Great. Why won't you shift back?"
Three's body remains neutral for a moment before flashing green.
"Three, I hope you know I don't speak colors."
A horrible gurgling sound leaves Three's mouth. All speech sounds like that when you speak in your cephalopod form. It's a little unfortunate.
"I don't speak broken toilet, either." Three's body flares white before she shifts back.
"... Go fuck yourself," she mumbles, blushing.
"Yeah, I might have to, at this rate..." Three swats at her arm. "It's the truth!"
"... What about the parent's blessing shit? We're not even a month in, you know..?"
"Rules exist to be broken!" Eight chirps. Three rolls her eyes. "Now, come on. People are waiting."
"Fine," she grumbles, crawling out from under the table after Eight.
"Oh, hey, you got her out!" Pearl says. Eight nods. "You know, I don't even think you need the first part of rule two anymore..."
"Yeah, honestly..." Eight agrees.
"I'll go back under there," Three threatens. "Don't fucking test me."
"Were you always so rude, young lady?" Mr. Cuttlefish asks. "You're normally so well-mannered..."
Eight can just tell Three's trying to shift again, so she grasps her wrist firmly. The skin pulls when she tries, Three's body getting jerked towards Eight, and she rapidly gives up. Eight lets go when Three tells her to go fuck herself again.
"With how often you say that, I'm starting to think you'd like me to," Eight mumbles. "Is that something you'd watch?"
"Eight," Three warns, face a dark orange. "Please."
Eight only laughs.
She stands up, holding out a hand to help Three up. Three takes it, quietly swearing beneath her breath.
"The others are where?" Three asks.
"Four and Marie are helping with dishes," Eight explains. "After that, we'll... I don't know."
"Gifts, obviously!" Marina chimes in.
"I hope you like mine..!" Callie coos beneath her breath.
"I'm sure I will..!"
At least... She hopes she does.
Not long after, Marie and Four finished washing the dishes. For some reason, Marie seemed to be blushing a little... Which really begs the question, what did they do to those poor plates? Eight can't ask. Eight can't know. Much the arcane knowledge of sucking dick, it is probably something Eight wishes she didn't know.
... But really, maybe Eight should go in there and inspect the plates...
"So, um... How do I do this, exactly?" Eight asks. "Is there, like, an order, or something..?"
Pearl shrugs. Thank you, Pearl. "Not really, but Marina said she wanted you to opens her last."
"... Okay." Given that some of the wrapping is burnt, that's probably a good choice. "Does anyone want theirs to be opened first, or..?"
Eight receives a whole lot of silence. Chilled legumes, Eight always wanted to die anyways.
"Mine, I guess," Three finally says. "I mean, only if you want, but..."
Pearl, who's standing right next to the cleared-off table, looks over the gifts. "Which one is it?"
"Poorly wrapped," Three tells her. Pearl finds it immediately.
Pearl hands it to Eight. Eight puts it on the table to open it. It tips a little but doesn't completely topple. Eight still wonders how Three managed to make a cube rounded.
"Do I just... Go for it?" Pearl nods. "... Okay."
Eight peels the tacky bow off the gift and can't find anywhere to stick it, so she just sets it on the table. Four snatches it and loudly slaps it against Three's face. That... Had to hurt.
"Are you..?"
"Just open it," Three tells her. The bow falls off her cheek, revealing an orange patch where Four slapped her. Yeesh...
Eight peels the paper off delicately, but finds that to be difficult because the wrapping is done is poorly. Eventually, she gets it off, and...
"It's a box," she states.
"Open the box," Three demands.
"Do you need a knife?" Pearl asks.
"Please do not give Eight a knife," Marina pleads.
"She has claws, right..?" Callie wonders.
"They might break," Marie replies.
"Octarian claws are squiddin' tough!" Mr. Cuttlefish cries. "Open the box!"
Eight slices the tape open and then opens the box.
"Oh?"
"Oh," Three repeats, furrowing her brow. "What does 'oh' mean?"
"It's a friend!" she breathes, gently picking up the contents of the box.
It's a somewhat small dinosaur plush, with soft red fabric. It has two little black beads for eyes and Eight can feel some small pellet-y thingies in its stomach.
"I, uh... Got it for you since I remembered you're, like, some sort of fucking dinosaur nerd, which is a really dumb thing to be a nerd about but, you know, I thought that, uh, you'd, y'know, like it, at least..?" Three stammers, blushing. Her eyes search Eight's face for some sort of confirmation.
"I love him," Eight states. "He is a wonderful friend."
Three lets out a laugh that is absolutely a giggle, no matter what anyone says. "I'm... Happy you like it."
"Thank you, Three! He's perfect!" Eight gently nudges the plush aside so its not in the way but still able to watch. Now all Eight needs is a name...
Pearl grabs the next box - the large one, Four's. When Eight takes it, it's lighter than she thought it would be. Hm... Interesting.
The wrapping paper is a lot easier to remove than Three's, but that probably has more to do with the fact that Four wrapped it correctly than anything else.
"Why are you removing it so nicely?" Marie asks. "You're just gonna end up throwing it out..."
"Uh, to use it again?" Three replies as if it's obvious.
"Is that why your wrapping looked so bad?" Callie laughs. "It's not even expensive, Three."
"It adds charm," she snaps.
"Actually, it just makes you look like a cheapskate, but potato, potato, I guess," Marie says dryly. Three does the middle finger thing again. "Wow. Our finest agent, huh?"
"You know it."
Inside Four's gift is... Yet another box! Except this one is easy to open. Eight just takes the lid off it, and... Oh! It's a jacket, black, with a bone pattern on it, as if Eight had a skeleton.
"You said you didn't have any jackets," Four explains. "And you liked the inkling skeleton a lot, so..."
Eight slips it on. It's comfy, with a soft inner lining, and... Pockets. What a wonderous thing..!
"That was really nice of you, Four," she says with a smile. "Thank you!"
"It's... It's nothing," she dismisses, although Eight swears she sees her blush. "It fits, right?"
"It's a little loose, but I like it like that." Four nods, content.
The next gift is the largest one of all, wrapped nicely in pink paper. In somewhat messy - though still legible - handwriting is "From Cap'n Cuttlefish".
Eight opens it as gingerly as the rest. It's in a box, much like how Three's plush was, and Eight opens it the same way. Inside it is...
"Is this a Bamboozler?" Eight asks, gingerly holding up the weapon.
"Not any Bamboozler... But an authentic one from the Great Turf War!" He holds up his own for Eight to compare it to. "That once belonged to an old friend of mine, but I have no use for it. There's no use in holding onto the past these days..."
Eight gently turns the weapon around in her hands. It's hand-fashioned, not like the replicas sold in Ammo Knights, with a few stickers half peeled off around the shaft. Some ink around the tip had seeped in, staining the rim of it with orange. On the handle, etched in crudely, are the initials D.R. next to S.B.S. Eight assumes the S.B.S. stands for Squidbeak Splatoon, which means D.R. had to stand for...
Mr. Cuttlefish's old friend.
"You're really giving me this?" Eight asks. It almost feels sacred, in a way, as if she's simply holding a piece of history. "... Why?"
"I told you, lassie, I've no need for it nowadays. Perhaps you can get some use out of it, if anything?"
"... Thank you," she tells him, although she's still unsure as to where she should put the weapon. "I'll take good care of it."
"Why, I hope so!" He shifts in his seat.
Next up is a small black bag with "From: Marie" written on a tag hanging off the handle. Crammed in beneath it is "+ Callie!"
"Um, Callie?"
"Hm?"
"What's in the pink bag there, then?"
"Open that in private, okay?" she tells her with a smile. It's as sickeningly sweet as the rest, but it makes Eight's blood run cold.
Eight nods and pulls a few clumps of tissue paper out from the bag. In it are... A few things.
The first thing is a lanyard with some sort of card hanging off it. It reads 'Squid Sisters', and that's all the context she gets.
"This is..?"
"A backstage pass for our concerts," Marie helpfully explains. "I figured you'd appreciate it."
Eight does.
"That's... That's really cool," she breathes. Eight can see the Squid Sisters perform... She can see them backstage...
Oh my god...
"There's more! There's mooore." Callie's leaned in over the table, propping her head up with her hands. "C'mooon."
"Callie, come on," Marie says.
"What? Like you're not excited too?"
Eight hears Four chuckle at that.
Next is... Ooh, are those CDs? Eight looks them over, and sure enough, they are! Ah, but... Eight already has all of the Squid Sisters CDs-
"They're signed," Marie again explains. "Collector's item."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
thats cool
And lastly is... A slip of paper with two different series of numbers on them.
"Our phone numbers!" Callie cheers. "Since you seem cool and we want to get to know you more."
Eight thinks she has ascended today. Or died, or reached enlightenment, or something cool along those lines. Maybe she's living a dream. Maybe that's why Eight now has the Squid Sisters' phone numbers AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
"I- Wow," Eight says because she is articulate and smart. "You... Thank you. Thank you both, a lot."
"It's nothing," Marie replies. "Just consider it thanks. For... Saving the world, and, uh... Making sure Gramps didn't die."
(aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa)
Pearl staggers over with a large box and sets it down on the table with a grunt.
"That one's mine, kid," she says with a grin.
... Given by the over-the-top pink wrapping paper absolutely covered with ribbon, Eight could have guessed.
Eight tears off the paper because she already knows there's no way to open it nicely. Inside of it are... Books?
"Cookbooks, since you've been interested in cooking lately... Oh, and, uh, I got you some new headphones, since you said your old ones broke?" Pearl... Actually remembered..!
Eight pulls her into a hug. Pearl grunts a little because Eight probably hugged too hard but does Eight care? No! Take that, Pearl. Eight's going to kill you.
With love.
Hahaha!
"Guess that means you like it?" she asks. Eight nods. "Cool. I'm happy you do."
"It's mine now, right?" Marina asks. There are only two gifts left on table - the slightly charred one and the sparkly pink bag from Callie. Eight nods. "I'll get it, then. I don't want Pearl to hurt herself."
She gets up and grabs the box, handing it to Eight.
It's small, but it's pretty heavy, which surprises Eight a bit.
"Open it!" she urges. Eight sets it down on the table first.
Gingerly, she tears through the paper and pulls it off, setting it aside. Beneath all that paper is...
"A box?" It certainly seems like a box. Not even a cardboard box, but a solid metal chunk. Or, no, there's some indents in it in a pattern of sorts, but... It looks like metal. "Marina..?"
Marina rolls her eyes and presses the small silver button atop the cube.
It opens.
Inside it is a small skyline of Inkopolis Harbor. The skyscrapers are made of a dark, shiny metal and they're reflected on the dark blue glass that's supposed to be the water. Mirrors raise up from the sides of the cube that now lay flat, reflecting light between them and creating...
A sunrise.
On top of that, a familiar jingle starts to play. Eight instantly recognizes it as Into the Light, though it sounds like a music box rendition of the song.
Eight loves it.
"Do you like it?" Marina asks.
Eight responds by crushing her in a hug.
"Thank you," she breathes, blinking back tears. "It's perfect."
The rest of the party goes well. Pearl made cake that wasn't flavoured like some awful condiment (which is all of them, all condiments are bad, change Eight's mind) and it was actually good. They jammed some candles in it and offered to sing, but Eight didn't really understand why they were offering because it was October 5th and Eight's birthday was January 27th, but whatever!
Everyone had left by 8:30, though.
Eight had just thrown on some clothes after showering, hearing Three's voice in her head begging for her to put something on.
But yeah...
Today was nice. Really nice.
Firstly, Eight got to meet TWO ENTIRE SQUID SISTERS. And then Eight got STUFF from TWO ENTIRE SQUID SISTERS. AAAAAAAAAAAAA and such.
Secondly, Eight got to spend time with her friends! Which is really nice, honestly. It's hard to get them all in one place like that.
And, well, maybe this is just an extension of point two, but Eight has never felt so loved. It's... Amazing.
Three's dinosaur plush (Eight's beautiful son and friend) sits beside her on her bed. Mr. Cuttlefish's friend's Bamboozler is currently just sitting on her desk, but she plans to put it on the wall like how they do with swords in the movies. Only, it's a lot easier to kill with a Bamboozler than a sword. Bamboozlers are more pew pew! and swords are more slicey slice..!, and it's common knowledge that pew pew! is more efficient in the death department than the slicey slice..!
That's also why rollers suck, but whatever! Not important.
Eight looks over at the pink bag sitting on her desk. She's yet to open it... And Callie said to open it in... Private.
Forgive Eight's mind for immediately going to the gutter.
She pushes herself off her bed, walking over and picking up the bag. Should... Should she open it..?
... Might as well, right..?
Eight pulls out a wad of tissue paper. What's the point of stuffing it with paper, anyways..? The surface is dumb and confusing and-
There's something shiny there..?
Gingerly, Eight pulls the object out.
It looks like... A toothpick, though it's heavy. It's metallic, catching the light nicely - wait, is this solid gold? No, not solid, but... Plated, right?
Sheesh... Where did Callie even get this..?
At the bottom of the bag is a scrap of pale pink paper covered in black writing. Next to it is... A flashdrive. What..?
Eight pulls the paper out.
Oh, wait, this is- This is Octarian, what..? Callie knows Octarian? That's... Odd. It's written fluidly too, as if it was her native tongue. It doesn't use the older, outdated letters that Pearl uses when she writes, as if she was learned the language as it was now and not how it was one-hundred years ago...
Eight reads the first line and feels a chill race down her back.
Dear Lucille -
Congratulations on finally making it to the surface! I'm sure the journey here was quite difficult. I've only heard about everything secondhand, but it seems you had to be quite brave to make it here! Thank you, really.
There's a lot about you that's odd, y'know? You're Class BR, from the Valley, no less - so you should definitely, definitely be dead! The Exterminations weren't kind, after all. Octarian society isn't very kind, but I'm sure you knew that. You of all people would know, after all...
This toothpick here was often worn by high-ranking officials. I managed to snag one, though it was pretty filthy when I first got it. I cleaned it the best I could, but I think there still might be some blood in the scratches. Sorry.
I've got connections, I guess - I paid this one guy a ridiculous amount for the files of everyone in your squadron. That's what's on the flashdrive, by-the-by. Everyone that was in your squadron, I guess. Most of them have TERMINATED as their status, sorry to say, but you're one of the exceptions.
There's this other octoling with a status marked as UNKNOWN. Their name's Hanale. They're a few years older than you, but they were the Captain. The chances are slim, but... Maybe you could find them again. I mean, if you got to Inkopolis... What's stopping them, right?
I don't know.
Anyways, I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done again. I wouldn't be here if not for you!
- Callie.
Files, she... She has files of her squadron, of people she knew, of- They're dead, aren't they? That's what the Exterminations were? Oh, no, no no no no no, fuck, Eight didn't- Eight didn't want to remember, she didn't need to, she...
Eight grabs the flashdrive and shoves the Bamboozler aside, not caring if it gets damaged.
Eight... She needs to know. Not as Eight, but... But as Lucille. The soldier she isn't any longer.
BR 06 - TERMINATED
C. HANALE - 0526 /./ STATUS: UNKNOWN
CYNTHIA - 0429 /./ STATUS: TERMINATED
LUCILLE - 0117 /./ STATUS: UNKNOWN
OLIVIA - 0417 /./ STATUS: TERMINATED
ASHLEY - 0527 /./ STATUS: TERMINATED
Eight wishes she feels something when she sees these names. She wishes she feels something when she reads their dossiers, when she sees their ages.
But she doesn't.
Eight doesn't remember them, she doesn't know who they are, she just...
Eight feels sick.
She hates the Octarians. She hates Callie. Most of all, she hates herself.
A small message appears in the corner of her screen from Three: 'are you free tomorrow we might be able to grab coffee'. Eight slams her laptop shut without responding.
(That night, Eight dreams of her old squadron. She dreams of Hanale teaching her how to use splatlings with a smile. She dreams of Cynthia quietly asking her to bring her weapon polish. She dreams of Olivia chastising her for thinking Octotroopers are cute. And she dreams of little Ashley, toddling behind her chirping "Wucy" because she liked Eight the most.)
(Eight wants to forget.)
(Eight can't ever forget.)