"We're here!" Marina swung the car door open with an excited whoop, and she was racing down the sidewalk in seconds. "I can't wait—we're gonna take so many selfies together!" Ayla pulled the SUV's door handle, unbuckled her seatbelt, and exited the stationwagon a little more…safely.
"…You still haven't told us what we're doing here." Gavin turned to his fellow agent as they closed the passenger door. Ayla stopped to eavesdrop in—she'd had the same question. The refugee's only context was Marina's half-ecstatic, half-crazed text to meet them in the parking lot.
"So…" Quinn paused to tie a sweater around his collar. "Remember how Marina said that the Lightfisher must've worked at Cephalon Labs at some point?"
Gavin nodded.
"Well I was talking with her the other day—and apparently the place is, like, super prestigious in the Canyon." Agent 3 led them towards the large, white ship anchored at the nearby dock. "It's the best of the best. And Octarian tech is fifteen years ahead of ours—so if the Lightfisher was good enough for their top-tier lab, then he should've been a shoo-in for any of ours. There's no way the guy would've been desperate enough for Grizzco employment."
Gavin slowed his pace. "What are you getting at?"
"I was doing my morning trades when I noticed that Grizzco's stock price is way, way down; they've suffered big-time from all the bad press." Quinn began walking towards a cluster of gray buildings, then stumbled over his semi-tied shoelace—and carried on as if nothing had happened. "But that got me thinking…maybe that's the point. Maybe the Lightfisher's trying to hurt the company instead of protect it." The Inkling swept a hand at the signpost erected in front of the complex. "And who'd hate Grizzco more than a research institute dedicated to the environmental sciences?"
Ayla followed his hand to the overworn letters that spelled out "JAM8PEO." Wait…she reread that again: "JAMSTEC." Yeah, "JAMSTEC…" foreign and faded letters was straight-up unfair.
"…Huh." Gavin huffed, mildly bewildered. "Looking into Grizzco's disgruntled enemies makes a lot of sense—especially after the giant wall that we ran into the other day. I'm down for checking this place out." His red eyes flicked across the complex of drab, nameless buildings with zero description or signage. "They…don't seem like the type to allow visitors, though."
"They're not—but how can they say no to the Marina?" Quinn nodded at the DJ. "Who's super supportive of the sciences? And is willing to donate a large sum if she could just see what they're up to?"
"Which I've always always wanted to do!" Marina excitedly chimed in, grinning like a schoolgirl on her first field trip. "I'd just never wanted to bother their research for my own entertainment. But if it can help with the investigation, then…" she let out a barely-contained squeal, "I'm so excited! The only thing missing is Pearlie—then we could've taken so many selfies with all the machines!"
Ayla blinked. She was starting to understand why the rapper had bailed faster than an Octarian who'd just heard the Inkantation.
"If we've got fame on our side, then we might as well make use of it." Quinn dropped his arm with a sly grin, answering Gavin's gaping jaw with a clandestine bow. "You can't say I don't have my moments."
It was, however, unfortunate that the motion had accidentally kicked the signpost behind him. The rotten wood creaked in protest, teetered ominously, and faceplanted on top of him…somehow. Ayla's brain was still working on the how.
"And yet they stay moments, don't they…" Gavin muttered as he moseyed over to help Agent 3 excavate himself.
"Okay, okay…" Marina tried to calm her bouncing self. "Remember, TTX was originally created by the head of Cephalon Labs: a government-affiliated facility that develops weapons for the Canyon's military. But the Lightfisher isn't an Octarian elite, which means that he must've worked under her at some point, learned how to make it, and then brought the knowledge to Inkopolis when he heard the Inkantation. So we gotta keep our eyes peeled throughout the tour, and we can't forget what we came here f—OH MY COD IS THAT THE SHINKAI?!" She'd dashed off within seconds, arms excitedly flailing towards the gigantic, submersible autobomb hanging from the research vessel.
Ayla's eyes instead wandered to the dockworkers unloading cargo from the ship. A small motorboat had sidled up to the other pier, and she was slightly surprised to see Caroline grab a netted bag of oysters and step out. The boat captain headed down the pier, handed the bag to a purple-tentacled scientist, and turned around to walk back to her vessel.
Gray eyes stumbled onto hazel, and Caroline scanned the rest of Ayla's group. The latter awkwardly glanced away while the former promptly yanked her motor to life and sailed off.
"…Ah, there you are!" A tall Inkling clacked her high heels over to the growing group in front of the Shinkai. She grasped at her elbows and fixed designer sunglasses onto Marina with a small, semi-contented smile. "I see you've found our little pride and joy: the deepest-diving submarine outside the Canyon." The Inkling lifted a hand from her red career jacket and extended it to Marina. "I'm Clarice, department head for JAMSTEC's public relations. I'll be guiding you through a tour of our facilities today."
Ayla wasn't standing anywhere near this lady and she could still smell her vanilla perfume.
"Oh, the pleasure's all mine!" Marina politely shook Clarice's hand, then swept an arm at her companions. "These are, uh…" the Octoling hesitated at the NSS agents, "these are members of my staff! But before we begin…" her shoulders snuck into a bashful, shy shrug, "…can you take our picture in front of the Shinkai and its adorable little robot arms?"
Ayla could almost watch Clarice blink behind her designer sunglasses. "…Oh, of course! Don't forget to post it to your socials, naturally."
Marina couldn't help an excited squeal and her shellphone was in Clarice's hand within seconds. "I totally will—thank you thank you thank you!" She began corralling her friends under the submarine like an excited hen fussing over her chicks. "On three, okay?"
"One…" JAMSTEC's PR manager stepped back and raised the camera.
Marina bent her knees to fit under the Shinkai's two-fingered manipulator, grinning through her fangs.
"Two…"
…Something moved behind Clarice's shoulder.
"Three!"
The shellphone gave a shuttered click and Clarice lowered the camera, but the ex-scout stared at the far corner where she'd seen movement…and found nothing. Ayla shifted antsy feet and expelled a steadying breath, trying to ignore the odd drop in her stomach. It was probably just a dockworker putting things away…and that was a silly little thing for an ex-military member to be afraid of.
"So," Clarice began to lead the group through the sliding doors of the first building. "As I'm sure you know, 'JAMSTEC' stands for 'Joint Agency for Marine-Earth Science and Technology.' We lead our competitors in uncovering the planet's deepest secrets. What's behind the tidal abnormalities in the Restricted Zone? What secrets lie beneath our deadly waters?" She glanced over her shoulder as they walked up the stairs and into the elevator shaft. "These are the questions that propel our renowned researchers into discovery after discovery."
Ayla smiled and nodded as best she could. Yes, this "aide" was perfectly capable of understanding even half of Clarice's words. Absolutely. One hundred percent. Don't ask her a single thing about it.
"So, you guys study the Restricted Zone?" Nosy Gavin clearly had no problem with questions, however. "Does that mean you work with Grizzco Industries?"
Clarice pressed the 4th floor button with a sigh, then stared ahead at the elevator doors. "To some degree, yes—some of our researchers will collaborate with their boaters to gather samples. Grizzco claims that their forays into the Restricted Zone are for research purposes, but to my knowledge they've yet to publish any findings." She removed her sunglasses and folded them into her pocket. "Meanwhile, one of our labs—staffed by Octarian refugees, mind you—has had two articles accepted into top journals within the past year." Clarice snuck a sly grin at Marina. "That's why we're always looking for refugee scientists hoping to continue their studies." Gavin whipped his shellphone out and took a picture of the elevator console while Ayla just stood there, confused.
The elevator dinged and the tour ventured through a silent, all-white hallway not unlike a hospital corridor. Ayla knew she brought up the group's rear, yet she couldn't shake the nagging sensation of a stranger's gaze burning into her spine. She tried to ignore it…and ignore it…and ignore it…until the ex-scout finally caved and turned a shoulder, hazel eyes inquisitively flicking down the dead-quiet hall. No one was there.
"Wow, one lab pumping out two big articles in the same year." Marina carefully remarked as Ayla pursed her lips and trotted back to the tour. The DJ's hands were clasped behind her back, but Ayla could still see turquoise fingers tapping excitedly against her palm. "Those researchers must be really skilled—and from the Canyon, no less. What was their research about?"
"I'm so glad you asked." Clarice swept her keycard through the reader with a prepared smile. "Let's hear it straight from the source, shall we?"
The PR manager opened the double-bolted door to a modestly-sized laboratory. Two-thirds of the room was lined with black counters, curving along the far wall like an upside-down U. The counters ended with a plastic bin on either end, each the width of a desk—a styrofoam lid covered the containers while plastic tubes gurgled water into a nearby bucket. In the center were two tables littered with wires and tiny clamps that made the movie Octostein look like a hatchling playing Operation. Ayla made a mental note not to touch anything…especially the weird triangular handle dangling from the ceiling.
Clarice politely knocked on the wall. "Could you lovelies spare a moment to speak with our guests?"
"…Wait, Off the Hook's DJ is here?!" An Octoling dropped his tools and dashed over within seconds. Ayla turned her attention to the cephalopod…and her entire brain screeched to a grinding halt.
Because the scientist standing in front of her was—hands down—the hottest, most attractive cephalopod she'd ever laid eyes on. Everything, just everything—from the scrumptious sideburns, the way they'd swept into his slick mohawk, each beautifully-crafted skin cell on his wonderfully sculpted face, the perfectly-lined shoulders that were even draped in a lab coat (!)—it was absolute perfection. He might've said something but Ayla was too busy staring at the well-defined collarbone protruding from his shirt.
"Hey guys." The Octoling shook her hand with the voice of an angelfish. "I'm Tyler."
"...hi Tyler." There was nothing Ayla could do about the blush. Nothing.
"Tyler here is a Canyon scientist that joined us just last year." Clarice motioned an arm at Ayla's future husband. "He's studying Inkopolis' sealife and how they produce a bacterium called Vibrio alginolyticus."
She then nodded at another Octoling, who had curiously wheeled her cart up to the group. "That's Lyra—she's been looking into the recent, unusual dips in certain Salmonid populations."
Lyra paused her shellphone's Spicy Calamari Inkantation and gave a quick wave as she re-tied her purple ponytail; Ayla could spot a cyan outline to her suction cups and the ex-scout's features faded into a thoughtful frown. It was uncommon—though not entirely rare—for some Octolings to possess unique tentacles. This one was lucky enough to inherit the gene.
Clarice dipped a chin towards one last scientist at the back of the lab, whose purple tentacles were hunched over a laptop. "And the one over there is Mimi. She's been studying the deepsea footage that the Shinkai collects from each voyage."
"Mimi…?" Ayla overheard Marina whisper to herself, eyes widened ever-so-slightly in faint recognition. She glanced away and turquoise eyebrows furrowed in consternation. "Mimi… Mimi…" The former elite's mutterings ended in an empty-handed tsk.
"Um, excuse me," a sudden knock sounded from the hallway; Alyssa's green gaze caught sight of Ayla and she narrowed her eyes, then returned her attention back to the manager. "…You're needed on the phone, Mrs Clarice. It's urgent."
The PR manager pursed a displeased lip and glanced around the lab, until her eyes fell onto the great and glorious Tyler. "…Can you keep our guests entertained until I return?"
Tyler and Lyra glanced at each other. Alyssa took the opportunity to sneer at Ayla.
"Just…talk about your research or something; I'll—I'll be right back." Clarice quickly backpedaled into the doorway, then turned a shoulder to the back of the lab. "You too, Mimi—show them today's footage, will you?" Clarice slipped down the hall and Alyssa dutifully followed her, but not before a cough toward Ayla that sounded suspiciously like "squitch."
"…All right all right, I'll…take a break, I guess." Mimi reluctantly scooped the laptop from the lab counter with a quiet groan. She stood to join them, smoothing out her buttoned-up lab coat. "So—research into the Metro's oddities have been all the rage lately, but we still don't know much about the seafloor beneath its subway lines. The Shinkai itself can't dive that deep, but I've outfitted it with detachable camera drones to try and record the footage. And check out what they found…"
She spun the laptop around to reveal the gigantic, bare-boned skeleton of a Great Zapfish that had sunken all the way to the seabed. Ayla had first thought that it had grown to the same length of the city's specimen…until she realized the spine was only half-complete. The ribs had been picked clean of even a smidgeon of sustenance—likely due to ravenous scavengers—but the barren skull had settled perfectly against the abyssal seafloor, its hollowed-out eyes gaping straight through the camera.
"Whoa, that's…super cool." Quinn slowly, carefully, drew back from the screen. "…And morbid."
"This thing has gotta be over three thousand years old, easy." Mimi peered over the top of the screen. "It probably sank down there when it died; that's how a lot of the deepsea scavengers get their meals. But look—" she pointed to a gigantic exit wound that had punctured the skull just above the eye socket. "Something big speared this Zapfish straight through the brain…then tore the fish clean in half. Thing never stood a chance."
Mimi tapped a close-toed shoe against the tiled floor, carefully offloading the laptop onto the nearby counter. "The ocean must've been home to some nasty predators back in the day. I wonder if that was the work of some prehistoric Salmonid or something." Ayla squinted at her fellow Octoling; now that she was closer, the ex-scout could spot the faint outline of something ultramarine on the scientist's purple tentacles.
But enough of Mimi—Ayla wanted to know more about Tyler.
She let out a dreamy sigh, watching him turn back around and grab a vial of clear liquid from his rack of test tubes—by the pinkfish, he was so handsomely studious. And completely innocent. It wasn't like she'd ever seen anything like a clear vial before. Or that it bore any sort of resemblance to a certain murder death poison. Lightfisher? Never heard of him.
Gavin was on it instantly…unfortunately. "What is that?"
"What, this?" Tyler gave the vial a quick shake. "This is seawater—just came off the research ship at the docks. I was about to test its chemical properties so that I know my tanks are set to the right specifications."
"I...oh." Gavin dropped his deflated finger. "…Yeah, I guess that makes sense." Ayla narrowed an eye, half relieved at her crush's answer and half indignant that Gavin would ever entertain the idea of him killing somebody.
"Careful Tyler," Mimi chimed in with a slow, controlled smile; she pointed to the large plastic bins. "You'll also need to clean those new oysters before you move them to your tanks. Otherwise you'll have no clue whether they actually produce Vibrio or if they just brought the thing in with them."
Tyler scoffed back, nodding at Mimi's purple tentacles. "Okay, 'director.'"
Mimi replied with her own smirk; but the exchange was enough to make Marina's face light up like a Squidmas tree.
"OH!" She snapped her fingers at the deepsea scientist. "Now I remember you! Board meetings: you'd sit next to the Director of Research and take notes for her."
Both Mimi and Tyler spun around to face the DJ, eyes wide.
"Oh my gosh," Mimi brought a hand to her mouth, "yeah! You were there, too! Well for a little bit, at least…you were part of Lord Octavio's detail, right? You'd come in with him?"
"Yeah!" Marina excitedly nodded along. "Yeah, and then I came up here. Oh, wow…" she shook her head in reminiscent nostalgia. "Those meetings were totally crazy."
Gavin and Quinn stared at Marina, then each other, then Mimi, then each other again. Ayla was starting to worry if their heads were about to implode.
"So…" Marina's turquoise eyes returned to the scientists with a proud, nostalgic smile, "…the Director of Research is the head of Cephalon Labs. I take it you guys used to work there?"
The boys' heads whirled around to gawk at the two scientists, and this time their jaws were on the floor.
"I…yeah." Mimi conceded with a small smile, gesturing between herself and Tyler. "We both did. I usually don't like to boast, but it's not like we can hide it at this point. It's pretty obvious that we were even in the Director's personal lab."
"She had high expectations, that's for sure." Tyler added with a reminiscent chuckle. "But honestly, now I really appreciate just how strict the standards were. One of the researchers up here had changed their cell's food after eight hours—instead of the required twenty-four—and then wondered why their astrocytes hadn't grown properly. I just…" Tyler turned back to his counter with an irritated shake of his head. "I have no words."
…Had Ayla mentioned just how hot his dedication was?
Lyra jealously watched them, running some kind of sensor over the Golden Egg on her cart. Ayla noticed that her cyan suction cups had begun to glow.
"So…hang on a second." Gavin had wrested enough control of his brain to start speaking again. "Does that mean you've learned how to—"
A beep from the hall's keycard reader made all heads turn to the lab's entrance, and the door's reinforced wood opened with a click of the handle.
"I'm so sorry to leave you like that." Clarice's high heels quickly clacked back into the lab; she gave a grateful nod at the three scientists. "Thank you for keeping them company. I'm sure you want to get back to work, and that our guests are eager to see other sights—so let's continue with the tour, shall we?"
The rest of the tour was sheer boredom by comparison. Ayla would've loved to stay with Tyler—forever—but noooo they just had to move on. How was she supposed to be interested in weird machines when she could've been interested in weird machines with him? Then he'd be the one explaining everything—she would NOT mind that at all, actually—and they could go to lunch, maybe see a movie, chat under the cherry tree in the park, and then…
…Ayla had daydreamed for the rest of the visit before she even knew it. The boys were packing themselves into the stationwagon and Marina had offered to drive her back to New Albacore Hotel, but Ayla promised that she'd enjoy a walk through the scenic route. The real truth, however, was that part of her wanted to hang around JAMSTEC just a little longer, for…reasons.
That was when she found a small break in the bushes that wasn't there before, right in the treeline just outside of JAMSTEC's property. It was inconspicuous enough that most wouldn't have thought much of it, but the ex-scout's training told her that such a gap wasn't created naturally. Curious, the refugee snuck over to examine the broken bramble, and discovered a set of footprints embedded into the nearby mud.
Closer inspection revealed that they were a cephalopod's. Male. Right-footed. Somewhat heavyset with an even, healthy gait. The punk shoes could've been newer, though—she noticed that his right sole had a tendency to slip out from under him.
The ex-scout stood up, hazel eyes following the tracks into the thick underbrush of the adjacent forest. That shouldn't be hard to follow—heck this cephalopod had practically carved straight through the undergrowth for her. Her curiosity was beginning to burn…and a little exploring might be fun.
The torn underbrush soon lead into an open meadow. Ayla instinctively crouched behind a bush to scan the clearing—she even felt her fingers curl around an Octo Shot that wasn't there anymore. The former scout glanced at her hands, dropped them back onto her knees, and poked her head out from cover.
The meadow must've been cut to accommodate for the jet-black torii gate, planted between an almost petrified fence. Three shrine-like structures sat on the other side of the towering aperture—patiently, silently, as if they were waiting for her to step through the gate's maw. A barely-noticeable pathway slid through the torii and Ayla could spot the faint smears where footsteps had tracked dirt onto the yellowed limestone. Looks like her mark had gone inside.
Everything past the gate was empty, silent—save for the muted chirps from distant trees. To her left was the priest's quarters, on the right was a raised stage, and straight ahead was the haiden. The courtyard joining the three was filled with small rocks the size of Ayla's palm, but she could spot different colors in the gigantic pebble garden—namely blacks, yellows, and blues over a backdrop of stone gray. A small line of short, well-manicured trees cut down the center of the garden, each sprouting from a pile of yellow rocks. Curious, Ayla made her way up to the stage and perused through the rack of costumes—probably used for ceremonial plays and dance festivals. One coat was missing.
She turned back to the courtyard. Now that she had a bird's eye view, Ayla noticed that the colored stones formed the shape of a gigantic, black mobula ray; the trees down the center had even represented the spines of a reptilian sail. It was subtle yet striking—like a massive predator quietly gliding just below the water's surface. And yet no one, not even a shrine priest, was around to enjoy the hidden gem. The ex-scout didn't know what spirit was enshrined here, so she made her way to the haiden to investigate.
The ancient, blackened shoji screen creaked as it slid open—it clearly wasn't used very often. And the room it had revealed was small, rudimentary, and dark. There were only three sources of dim lighting: the two paper lanterns near the altar, the glowing yellow circle painted onto the center of the floor, and the tiny light emitting from the glass exhibit on the far left wall. Ayla made her way over, discovering that the glass encased three ancient stone tablets that looked awfully familiar.
The birds had stopped chirping outside.
There was a cocktail table beside the exhibit, just barely poking from the shadows—Ayla would've missed it entirely if it wasn't for the dim light spilling onto the closest page:
"52 Remory Way, Apt 226," it read.
Ayla furrowed her eyebrows, perplexed. That was Delta's address. The one right beneath it looked familiar—in fact, it was just a few doors down from Ayla's…and it was the same room number that Gavin had moved into. She began to stifle a gulp when her own was next on the list; and at that point, she could guess who the last one belonged to.
Ayla glanced back up to process the information. Why on the pinkfish's green earth would their addresses be scribbled here, of all places? The ex-scout could swear that the ancient air was beginning to coil, like a cobra readying itself for a strike. Her increasingly concerned gaze landed on the stone tablets, finally recognizing them from her web surf before her first Salmon Run. The far left tablet bore etchings of the same mobula ray as the one outside—complete with the reptilian sail. Hazel eyes flicked to the inscription on the central tablet:
"Beware the devilfish that rose from the sea and ate the sun, casting the pinkfish's land into usurped shadow. Light was held hostage—and only used to conduct death."
Devilfish. Ayla couldn't tell if it was a trick of the light, but it was almost as if the floor's yellow circle had begun to glow more menacingly…even though the room's shadows felt thicker and thicker. And the air itself had begun to quiver.
"…What'cha snooping about for, little girl?"
That...wasn't how a shrine priest spoke to their guests. Ayla turned around to bolt out the door, but a thumb and forefinger cupped her throat and slammed her against the opposite wall.
"Naw, naw, you can't leave so soon." The Lightfisher finally stepped from the shadows, swathed in a black trench coat embroidered with dying glowflies. "You've been hounding me for ages—and now you wanna dip?" He shook his head, then unnaturally yellow eyes zeroed back onto his prey. "Not 'till I'm done with you."
Ayla would've gulped if she wasn't trying to cough some air back into her windpipe.
"I ain't one for patience, so spare me the lies." The Lightfisher dropped into a slight growl as he leaned closer, his blackened hockey mask hovering inches above her face—Ayla could even see a tiny patch of white and red where the black paint had missed a spot. "I know you're helping the NSS. I know you've been sniffing around my tail. And, well…" the hockey mask glanced to the left with a theatrical tsk, "…how's that going for you right now?"
A piece of cartilage finally flicked back into place and Ayla started panting to catch her breath.
"I mean really, this shows just how abysmal their witness protection is." He proudly wiggled his grip on Ayla's tender larynx. "The NSS is so out of their element it's almost ridiculous. They walk around each scene with their jaws on the freaking floor—it's clear they don't know first thing about a homicide. Are they even aware that their Inkantation is what brought me here to begin with?" Ayla could watch the tiny glowfly legs writhe as his shoulders shook with a scoff.
"And don't even get me started on the green one; what the heck is Two even doing?" He flicked a perplexed hand into the air, and the barely-lit lanterns caught streaks of blue and red raking down his sleeve. "She's way off her game. Sometimes it feels like she's not even paying a lick of attention to the problem that's right in front of her." The Lightfisher dipped his chin, his judgmental yellow eyes burning deep into the ex-scout's soul. "And you're gonna trust her with keeping you safe from me?"
Ayla's hand left his wrist and hovered in the air, almost as if it wanted to slam into the Octoling's hockey mask. But this was the cephalopod that had wrestled with Elizabeth so decisively that he'd trashed her entire room; and besides, he had a good four inches on her with way more muscle. A retaliation likely wouldn't end well for the little scout.
"Look, what I'm trying to say is open your cod-damned eyes." The Lightfisher gave her throat a little shake. "Admit it. We both know who the losing side is. So I'm gonna give you one last warning." He raised a finger and the rumble returned to his voice. "Stop. Snitching. Stay out of my business, stay out of my way. And if you're so devil-bent on sharing squit with the NSS—" he threw her to the ground, "—tell 'em that playin' with fire is gonna get somebody killed."
Ayla flung her hands overhead as the Lightfisher stepped over her…but nothing happened. She cracked a peek through her fingers, but the Lightfisher had already disappeared out the door—leaving nothing behind but a discarded hockey mask, the missing coat from the costume rack, and a fake contact lens.
A/N: I SWEAR I'M NICE TO AYLA LATER
…Well unless I decide to kill her, of course XD; I'm not about to give any of my characters the get-out-of-murdered-free card. And let's be real, our favorites have been a little too…safe, lately…
BUT! Onto more optimistic things! I (basically) have two new chapters for you guys this time; I thought about splitting this chapter into two full-fledged ones since each part is pretty long, but they're supposed to happen concurrently and I feel like that's clearer if I release them together as a single upload. Or, well, as close to a single upload as I could get without making it a 10k document XD
…Yeah, some of these scenes are longer than I'd like, but they seem to read pretty quickly so I'm just gonna cross my fingers and hope that it's the same on your end. Two of these have been causing me trouble for almost the entire time I've been working on this story, so…yeah this chapter was hard. Super hard. Unbelievably hard. I think people were starting to get tired of me complaining about how hard it was XD.
And I'm sure y'all are getting tired of my authorly chitchat by now, so I'll just leave ya with the notes for this part:
-The "weird triangular handle" that Ayla was staring at was the lab's chemical shower, which is used to THOROUGHLY soak the person in case they got something harmful on their skin…and it does that by thoroughly soaking the whole lab. Talk about a tryhard
-There is something awesome about two henchmen recognizing each other because their bosses had to attend the same meeting. I don't know what it is about the Board, but they make character development a thousand times cooler.
-The Lightfisher's hockey mask is actually the Splatoween hockey mask that you can find in-game, he's just painted the thing black. That's why Ayla could see a patch of white (the base color) and red (the red arrows) where the paint job had missed a spot. It gave an interesting homemade vibe to his outfit, I just wasn't sure if it was clear
-I know that I mention bones a couple times, and yes I know that Inklings don't necessarily have them…but Tyler's collarbone was just too funny to pass up XD. Just think of the "bones" being made of cartilage or something
-The Lightfisher's trench coat goes SO HARD and I love it
-Some readers might recognize some of the devilfish pieces from a now-deleted scene in the original Chapter 7 before it was rewritten. That whole scene kinda struck me as boring exposition and it painted the new lore as this Westernized religion that I really hadn't meant to go for. So I took it out, held the deets back, reworked them, and threw em back in as something else when they were ready. Using a decentralized Shinto model works much better than the biblical one from before