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TEST DRIVE ∞ May 2025
Test Drive ∞ May 2025
The First Collision
The Diadem is an invite-only panfandom game set in a retro-futuristic world where uprooted souls find themselves deep within an eerie wasteland of roads and highways frequently assailed by cosmic storms. Three united strongholds keep the population. Its capital is Panorama, a large metropolis at the planet's center.
Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Calling themselves fluxdrifts, the "locals" have similar stories to you, either for themselves or their ancestry. You speak to an old woman who claims she hailed from another star. You meet a young man who says his great-great-grandfather knew a strange language everybody spoke "back home." As you explore, you stumble across a coin you recognize or your sister's locket. How did it get here? What does this mean? That's for you to discover.
But first, you need to find a ride.
Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Calling themselves fluxdrifts, the "locals" have similar stories to you, either for themselves or their ancestry. You speak to an old woman who claims she hailed from another star. You meet a young man who says his great-great-grandfather knew a strange language everybody spoke "back home." As you explore, you stumble across a coin you recognize or your sister's locket. How did it get here? What does this mean? That's for you to discover.
But first, you need to find a ride.
No invites needed to play on the TDM. Everyone's welcome! Use the Invite Request thread below to request an invite from another player.
∞ Summary ∞
IC-wise, arrivals are scattered throughout the month. Events described on the TDM are also ongoing throughout the month. If you'd rather jump right into the action, you're free to begin in media res with your character having already been on the planet for several days.
Post-impact, characters will wake up in a med tent by the Scrapyard. From there, they must accept a vehicle on loan and make the 2-hour drive to the nearest city, Panorama. If they refuse the car because they don't want the loan, they'll be in debt for medical bills instead...so just take the car. It'll come in handy.
Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:
TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.
Post-impact, characters will wake up in a med tent by the Scrapyard. From there, they must accept a vehicle on loan and make the 2-hour drive to the nearest city, Panorama. If they refuse the car because they don't want the loan, they'll be in debt for medical bills instead...so just take the car. It'll come in handy.
Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:
- Pick an injury. At minimum, they got knocked out; at most, whatever they can recover from. Medicine is decently advanced so they'll heal faster if not painlessly.
- Decide items kept. Reasonable items on their person only: photos, keys, clothes, costumes. No pets or animal companions. Wildly out-of-place tech and personal cell phones will be damaged beyond repair.
- Select a weapon. Do this only if eligible. Guidelines about weapons and powers are on the FAQ.
- Choose a vehicle. Decide whether your character gets 2-3 options or if they're stuck with something they hate. Players can pick directly from our collection or source their own images. Anything under a similar aesthetic will work. If your character needs accommodations for driving, they can have them. Ask us for details.
- Get a phone. Characters have to obtain a phone (and a SIM card) themselves. If they've got one from home, it's damaged beyond repair. Phones are cheap. It'll only take a couple of weeks to afford one. You need to know the number before you text or call anyone. Read about phones and the Forum before you hop on it.
TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.
Fluxdrift
Arrival & Introduction
Date: Throughout May
You've tumbled over a cliff. You were fighting for your life. You're on the cusp of death. You slipped in the shower. Whatever the catalyst, you struggle to cling to consciousness. As darkness overtakes you, a swirling vortex warps light and shadow in a way that defies all physics. A dark wail etches into your very bones. You couldn't describe it if you tried. You can barely comprehend what it is.
Then you open your eyes.
Through the figure's mask ©, you swear the face is grinning down at you. The tent you're in smells of antiseptic, and scratchy blankets line your cot. Injuries you've sustained have been bandaged. In the corner, you spot a MedBot that's fixed you up. Depending on the extent of your injuries, the doctor on duty might give you some painkillers before you go. Thankfully, your belongings are by the exit. Sorry if anything's damaged. Your landing was pretty rough.
You follow the figure outside. They are Yom Crook, here to lend a hand to fellow fluxdrifts like yourself. Their car's parked beside them. Actually, there are lots of cars around, but Yom Crook's stands out with its painted shark mouth. They explain they found you, unconscious, in a diffusion zone and brought you here. The nearest city is a 2-hour drive northeast. Forget about walking. You'll never make it. Also, you owe the doctor a lot of money for patching you up. But you're in luck: they've got some wheels for you and if you accept the vehicle on loan, Yom Crook will cover your medical bills. That's a good deal, right? It's not the shiniest car or motorcycle, but it'll do. If fortune favors, you'll get to choose between two or three options. Plus, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free.
Take the vehicle. (And the loan.) Yom Crook assures you that you'll have six months before collectors come around. Any time you're ready to pay a part of it down, return here to the Scrapyard. You'll get a receipt and everything. Paying off the loan in six months isn't impossible, but it will take a lot of work. Just don't get too lax. There's a good chance you'll be juggling multiple loans as you try to get by.
You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more a suggestion than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.
Through the figure's mask ©, you swear the face is grinning down at you. The tent you're in smells of antiseptic, and scratchy blankets line your cot. Injuries you've sustained have been bandaged. In the corner, you spot a MedBot that's fixed you up. Depending on the extent of your injuries, the doctor on duty might give you some painkillers before you go. Thankfully, your belongings are by the exit. Sorry if anything's damaged. Your landing was pretty rough.
You follow the figure outside. They are Yom Crook, here to lend a hand to fellow fluxdrifts like yourself. Their car's parked beside them. Actually, there are lots of cars around, but Yom Crook's stands out with its painted shark mouth. They explain they found you, unconscious, in a diffusion zone and brought you here. The nearest city is a 2-hour drive northeast. Forget about walking. You'll never make it. Also, you owe the doctor a lot of money for patching you up. But you're in luck: they've got some wheels for you and if you accept the vehicle on loan, Yom Crook will cover your medical bills. That's a good deal, right? It's not the shiniest car or motorcycle, but it'll do. If fortune favors, you'll get to choose between two or three options. Plus, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free.
Take the vehicle. (And the loan.) Yom Crook assures you that you'll have six months before collectors come around. Any time you're ready to pay a part of it down, return here to the Scrapyard. You'll get a receipt and everything. Paying off the loan in six months isn't impossible, but it will take a lot of work. Just don't get too lax. There's a good chance you'll be juggling multiple loans as you try to get by.
You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more a suggestion than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.
OPTIONAL PROMPTS: a flat tire; a body on the road (is it a trap?); a fender bender
Panorama
Explore & Settle In
Conditions: Warm spring temperatures, light showers
After 2 hours on the road, you find civilization. The largest of the strongholds, Panorama is where the economy thrives. Massive power plants glowing red make it visible from a distance. The city is divided into three districts. For now, you can access the Pavilion and the Blocks. Don't worry about the Sanctum; they're not letting you in.
You only need to know two things about Panorama: 1) it's big, the size of a modern metropolis, and you'll need your car to get around; 2) anything goes as long as you don't pick a fight with the wrong person. Street smarts will get you far. Despite its geographical size, the population isn't huge. With roughly a million people in a city designed for over twice that number, Panorama is far from deserted, but nor is it overcrowded. It's a good thing. Resources are limited as it is.
You only need to know two things about Panorama: 1) it's big, the size of a modern metropolis, and you'll need your car to get around; 2) anything goes as long as you don't pick a fight with the wrong person. Street smarts will get you far. Despite its geographical size, the population isn't huge. With roughly a million people in a city designed for over twice that number, Panorama is far from deserted, but nor is it overcrowded. It's a good thing. Resources are limited as it is.
The Pavilion: Free Samples
Like any large city, Panorama features a couple of supermarkets. The stock's not as consistent as a proper supermarket. On occasion, shelves can remain cleaned out for a week or two. Regardless, the long tradition of free samples remains. If you're not already shopping, you'll notice the crowded parking lot and clusters of lines inside.
Try samples, push through the crowds as you shop, or give yourself a five-finger discount. If you're cautious, you can pocket a few small items without consequences. The Pavillion doesn't have the infrastructure for surveillance; unless someone sees you, you won't be caught. Steal from the store or pilfer someone's wallet. Maybe you even make a new friend if you bump into another fluxdrift. Or, start a fight with somebody who cut you off in the cheese line. Don't make too much of a ruckus, or you'll be thrown out.
As you look around, you'll see posters advertising temporary positions for the cash register or graveyard shifts in the warehouse. Seems they might've lost several employees recently (how'd that happen?), which is good for you! It's just a 6-week position, but it'll get you on your feet. The city has temporary positions like this all over. Permanent ones are harder to come by when you're new.
Try samples, push through the crowds as you shop, or give yourself a five-finger discount. If you're cautious, you can pocket a few small items without consequences. The Pavillion doesn't have the infrastructure for surveillance; unless someone sees you, you won't be caught. Steal from the store or pilfer someone's wallet. Maybe you even make a new friend if you bump into another fluxdrift. Or, start a fight with somebody who cut you off in the cheese line. Don't make too much of a ruckus, or you'll be thrown out.
As you look around, you'll see posters advertising temporary positions for the cash register or graveyard shifts in the warehouse. Seems they might've lost several employees recently (how'd that happen?), which is good for you! It's just a 6-week position, but it'll get you on your feet. The city has temporary positions like this all over. Permanent ones are harder to come by when you're new.
Samples include: steamed cabbage dumplings, synthetic cherry juice, cheddar cheese, and chocolate-covered alien eggs (it's crunchy and weirdly tasty). They're served in the usual throwaway paper cups with little toothpicks.
The Blocks: Power Outage
Power's finicky in Panorama, especially in the Blocks. Saint Margery's Hospital, located in the same area, has priority for power so the first to go are the motels. Maybe you've been in your room for a couple of weeks, maybe you just got here—and by the way, every motel desk is happy to put the fee on your tab if you don't have the money upfront—but all the motels on the east side are in a blackout, leaving only the west side motels up and running.
What do you do? You have three choices:
What do you do? You have three choices:
- Risk leaving your room and head to the other side where there's power. Knock on some doors and negotiate with another to share the room. They might shut the door in your face, ask for a favor in return, or be nice enough to help you with no strings attached. There's no guarantee your unattended room will be untouched, though, and you'll be on the hook for any damages an intruder causes.
- Sit in the dark and deal. It's not the worst idea, but the TV's down, the vending machines are powered down, and with the entire place plunged into darkness, you risk getting robbed. If you struggle with defending yourself, you might want to find some trustworthy company. You can also sneak out of there and let them take your leftover pizza. It's not like you've got a ton of valuables, right? Plus, clobbering someone in the face with a frying pan sounds great until you realize you've gotta do something with the body. And what if this person's got a friend waiting?
- Get in your car and drive (or grab a friend for a road trip). If you scroll the Forum, you might notice reports on diffusion zones southward. Besides, these motels are hardly your forever home. The city can only provide so much. Why not go for a ride and see what you can find out there?
OPTIONAL PROMPTS: clean up on aisle 3 (what is that goo?); a knock at your door but no one's there; you hear screaming or a commotion down the hall
The Fringes
Quad 3: Lockdown
Conditions: Stormy, with flooding roads
Felix Bjurstrom
> Date: 125-05-17
> Time: 02:15:57
> Emergency road lights have been reported in Quadrant 3! Please, can someone go see what's there? When last we chasers investigated emergency lights, a whole truck filled with sour candy had tipped over. Our stores were stocked for weeks! Oh, be careful - reception looks bad in that zone.
> Date: 125-05-17
> Time: 02:15:57
> Emergency road lights have been reported in Quadrant 3! Please, can someone go see what's there? When last we chasers investigated emergency lights, a whole truck filled with sour candy had tipped over. Our stores were stocked for weeks! Oh, be careful - reception looks bad in that zone.
Through the open windows, a computer awakens and displays a cheerful smile. The lights inside switch on.
Pick your scenario role below. Your thread partner doesn't need to take the opposite role! They can join you in the same scenario (i.e. trapped together). Players are also free to create a generic NPC for the other side to facilitate the thread.
After characters escape, they'll find one bottle of antibiotics in their pocket or car, whether they remember taking it or not.
After characters escape, they'll find one bottle of antibiotics in their pocket or car, whether they remember taking it or not.
A: Sealed In
As you peer through the windows, you see crates of medicine floating around. Antibiotics in the diadem are valuable. Hospitals and doctors are always buying. You can keep it for yourself or make a quick buck. Or maybe you're compelled to help somebody back in the city who's in need. Whatever the reason, you decide to take the risk and step inside.
Water splashes around your ankles. The lock buzzes behind you. If you try to break the windows, you discover they're unnaturally resistant to shattering. With the whole place locked tight, the water begins to churn. Then the computer lights up again.
Warning, it flashes in large, bold text. Quarantine in progress. Release code required for exit.
- To find the code, you'll have to search. Duck under the water, go through sopping envelopes and sticky notes or pick the locks on the filing cabinets and desk drawers. You can also try hacking the computers. Use your computer knowledge or fall back on the age-old trick of seeing who wrote down their password.
- The files, notepads, and emails start innocuous, but as you look through them, disturbing phrases jump out at you—a dark thought you've had or a cruel taunt from someone in your past. The longer you're fixed on the terrible words, the higher the water begins to rise. Only another can break you out of your trance.
- With the rising water comes fear. And the more you're afraid, the more the water also rises. You begin to see faces in the water, bobbing like balloon heads. Do you recognize them? If you move to take a closer look, they will sink back beneath the surface as if never there.
- If you manage to swallow your panic, you can eventually find a triple-laminated binder with the release code and instructions. Bad news: you need someone on the outside to punch in the 6 strange symbols in order. The instructions explain that the code panel is located at the back of the building.
B: Set Free
As you peer through the windows, you see not just the crates of medicine but someone trapped inside. They look like they might be in trouble, and from your vantage point, you notice that the water is bubbling strangely. It's definitely not normal rainwater. As you watch, the water rises unnaturally, stopping and starting. It's as if the water level is responding to an external stimulus.
- The glass is soundproof. You can't hear what the person inside is saying, so you'll have to communicate with each other another way. Try charades, typing on your phone, or whatever you think of. Eventually, you determine that they're stuck and that you need to enter some sort of code onto a pad located—according to your trapped partner—at the back of the building.
- Around the back, shadows swallow your surroundings. The panel must be pried open, but a slippery substance makes it hard to get a good grip. Each time the substance touches you, you grow uneasy. You swear you see eyes watching you, though when you turn around, nothing's there.
- You can't seem to keep the instructions in your mind. And those symbols...they burn into your retinas. Through them, you glimpse an incomprehensibly massive figure unfurling in the darkness, pulsing as if in a deep sleep. When you snap back to reality, you realize you've injured yourself, slicing your hand on a sharp edge or a bruise you can't remember getting.
- Once you manage to release the doors, the water inside the office drains upward into the sky as though sucked out by a giant hose. The darkness spreads. Get out of there fast before the shadows drag you or your partner into the void.
Main Navigation ::: ⇅
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Agent 8 | Splatoon
Eight jerks awake in the kind of momentary panic you only get from knowing you've been here before.
Well, not strictly here here, but a...situational here: Waking up with a headache, not knowing where you are and how you got there. It's all too familiar to Eight, but at least he knows who he is this time. The last thing he remembers is putting on the headset to be the test subject for his friend Marina, to see if her virtual reality project would finally help him and the rest of his people recover their memories...
Something's gone very wrong.
"I...guess I should assume you're not one of Marina's AIs?" he says, addressing the masked figures.
At least they didn't laugh at him too much. He listens to the offer and...it sounds like he's under their thumb either way.
Like paying for the tests at Kamabo...
What a sour taste that leaves in his mouth.
In the end, he picks a motorcycle. It's not much to look at, but he has no experience with cars and Marina swears by them. No, it doesn't occur to him how many of his choices she influences. He just knows that if it's good enough for her, it's more than good enough for him. The one drawback is that there's no way for him to carry his weapon on it, except tucked under the ink tank strapped to his back. Not comfortable and absolutely not an approved way to carry it by the standards of the Octarian Army or any official ink sports league, but maybe that's OK. He should probably have it at arm's reach at all times anyway Who knows what he might be forced to give a face-full of ink to?
It took quite a few tries to find a helmet that didn't squish his tentacle into his eye, but, hey, now all he has to do is...learn how to ride it. Shouldn't be THAT much different than learning how to use a new weapon, right? Test things, be meticulous, don't jump into the real thing until you're comfortable. He takes awhile to get off the lot, but he makes pretty good time until about halfway he takes a hill a little too fast, tips the nose too far forward, and wipes out.
He's not really hurt -he doesn't have bones to break, after all- but his bike bounced into the middle of the road and is probably blocking your own vehicle. Help him out or yell at him, your choice.
Panorama
Oh no. Rain.
Eight cannot do rain.
Literally. He'll dissolve.
He ends up ducking into a supermarket in the hopes that they'll sell an umbrella or a poncho or something. He can handle the light showers that are happening right now, but if the sky opens up his body will liquefy and run right into the storm drain.
He's in luck: there's one umbrella, collapsible and made of clear plastic. And out of his price range, which is free. He sighs. He really doesn't want to have steal it. It's a moral thing but also a pride thing? Octarians just don't lower themselves like that.
"...Wonder if they'd let me have this if I told them I'll die without it?"
He says it to himself, but also a little bit to whoever's around. He hasn't felt on his own in a long time, and his shyness has always been fighting with his extroversion. Indirect communication is just how it comes out.
Blackout
Back in Octo Valley, blackouts were a fact of life. On bad days what power they had often needed to be diverted to weapon manufacturing or hospitals or kitchens, or wherever it was needed. The dorms where Eight lived? Not even a consideration. When the power went out, you went to sleep or went somewhere where there were still lights.
Of course, in Octo Valley, all you actually needed to worry about was maybe a prank, or a bunk mate who was afraid of the dark. Not so here.
He really, really doesn't want to have to test his ink against the bladed or projectile weapons he's seen people carrying. He hasn't seen one be fired yet but he has a feeling he never wants to.
The first thing he does is change his ink color from magenta to a bright yellow, a color much easier to see in low light conditions. Best not to take anyone by surprise. He picks up his Octobrush, and goes to start knocking on doors.
Wildcard
[Got a better idea? Hit me up on
Blackout
They, unfortunately, weren't unaccustomed to living in a motel. They hadn't had to do it for long, but it had been enough to learn at least a few things, like, strangers were going to knock on your door.
If you were lucky, it would just be the motel staff. But most of the time, it wouldn't be, and you absolutely do not open the door for them. "No exceptions," their brother had been very adamant about that at the time. And part of Keni instinctively wanted to curl up in bed and ignore it like they would have back then. But with the blackouts, it could be the staff, even this late. They had to at least check, though, not without grabbing their bat from beside the bed.
Checking the peephole, they couldn't make out much in the dark hallway, only that the figure was short. Maybe around Keni's own height.
Against their better judgment, they open the door, but leave the chain lock in place so it can only be opened so far. It wouldn't do much if this was a trap and someone tried to kick the door in, but it was better than nothing.
Getting a better look at the figure, they definitely weren't staff, but they looked like a teen. And while it shouldn't, it made Keni drop their guard enough to not immediately shut the door again.
"Uh...hi?"
no subject
He's guessing this one is a...teen?
"...Hey."
Eight has dealt with a lot of strangers today and he just doesn't have the social confidence of the squids he knows. The first time he had to bunk with someone he'd just met, he didn't speak their language at all. His Captain had done the talking for him them.
He wishes he could remember what he said to make it happen.
"Uh...I thought it might be better to buddy up with the blackouts. I keep hearing noises that...I mean, I don't know if it's safe to be alone tonight so..."
He...might be blowing this.
no subject
They'd always been bad about telling people "no" or turning people away when they needed help, even when they'd had every reason to distrust them. They had a tendency to assume the worst of people, and a habit of second-guessing themselves about that, of wanting to believe they were just being paranoid. And it had always been far too easy to push that paranoia aside when someone managed to pull at their heartstrings.
A trait that their friend Arin boasted made them an easy mark. And admittedly, he wasn't wrong about that.
Still, they try to mull this over logically for a moment. Even if the guy was a kid, that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. No matter how nervous he sounded. He might even just be bait, working with someone worse.
As their eyes adjusted to the dark and they got a better look at the guy, there was something almost uncanny about him. His eyes were just a bit too big, ears pointed, and there was something up with his hair. It almost looked too smooth. But, hell, maybe they weren't quite human, or humans look different where he comes from. Like, elves or whatever. Wouldn't be the weirdest thing they'd seen in this place, so they push the observation aside.
Breaking them out of their thoughts, a commotion starts up down the hall, punctuating Eight's point. A yelling match paired with loud banging that makes Keni flinch reflexively.
Chewing their lip as they have one last wrestle with their conscience, they finaly nod decisively.
"Yeah...Yeah, okay."
They temporarily close the door just enough to unlatch the chain lock, then open the door all the way, letting Eight in.
no subject
Eight steps inside, surveying the room. Maybe he a little bit hoped that it would be cleaner than his. No such luck. This is just a gross old building.
He also tries to get a better look at the room's owner. Keni definitely seems nervous about letting him in, so Eight will remain standing until they invite him to sit down. It's only polite.
Also polite: shrugging off his ink tank and leaving it and his Octobrush leaning in the closet beside the door. It seems that humans don't recognize it as a weapon if some of his other encounters tonight are anything to go by, but disarming is still a sign of good faith, right? Nothing else to do now but introduce himself.
"My name is Eight. What's yours?"
no subject
After setting the bat down against the wall next to the door, without trying to make it obvious that they'd had it, they cautiously move through the dark to the rooms dresser. Fumbling around in one of the drawers for a moment, they eventually find some tea candles they'd bought after the last time the power went out in this place, setting them out on the dresser and night stands.
While setting them down and lighting them, they watched Eight take something off that, in the dark had looked oddly like an oversized paint brush and tank of...something. As the room filled with the warm dull glow from the little candles, it only confirmed that's what they were.
The light also confirmed that their new room mate was definitely not a normal human, or at least, not normal for where Keni came from. And they hate that their gut reaction is to recoil when they realize that, what they'd thought was hair were tentacles.
It's unfortunately not the first time they've seen tentacles growing off of someone. But there's a clear enough difference for Keni to wrestle back their nerves. This guy only had them coming out of his head, and putting aside Keni's initial gut reaction to them, they were almost cute. Like they'd been purposefully stylized into a mohawk. The only other time Keni had seen tentacles coming out of a person, it had been anything but cute.
Shaking off their nerves as best they could, they sit down at the edge of their bed, not really thinking to invite Eight to sit yet; not used to having friends that needed that kind of invite.
"I'm Keni. Did you say 'Eight'? Like the number?" They ask, unsure if they'd really heard that correctly.
"And is that-...a giant paint brush?" That one was a bit of a dumb question. There was no way it was anything other than a giant paint brush, but they still had to ask.
no subject
Maybe they're just more anxious around strangers than Eight is. Or it's just scary to be in an apartment block with no power and no idea who's a friend or foe at first glance.
Still, they're talking. Asking questions. That's good, right? He might be able to put them at ease.
"Right. Like the number," Eight nods. "It's...a long story." He'll tell it if prompted, he actually kind of likes how inquisitive humans are. Some squids will hear him say that and not even blink.
He continues. "Inkbrush, yeah. Octoling bodies produce ink that we can use for fighting." He nods towards the tank, full of bright yellow ink. "I'm trained in all kinds of ink-based weapons, but I prefer brushes."
no subject
So, little dude in an 'Octoling'. And Keni can guess that must be what's up with the tentacles. He's, like, an octopuses person. So not like what had happened in Keni's own universe, which is definitely something of a relief.
And his name is a number, which, Keni had to admit they were curious about the prospect of it being a long story.
"I mean, if you wanna tell it, we potentially have all night. Or at least till the end of this power outage." And they finally do relax a little, taking their hands off their lap to lean back on the bed a bit.
But they were equally intrigued by the explanation of the 'Inkbrush' and tilting their head as they looked over the thing curiously, they couldn't help but ask.
"So, when you say you fight with ink, do you mean like in paint ball fights, for fun? Or..." They have to mull over the best way to word this question. "Is the ink, like, dangerous?"
Because being 'trained' in multiple weapons, sure made it sound like this was for more than just play fighting.
no subject
One thing that's become clear to Eight is that no other species can do what an Inkfish can. The only thing keeping that thought from being painfully lonely is...well, how much energy it takes to survive around here.
"I play a lot of Turf War, which is where two teams of four Inkfish compete to see how much turf they can cover with their respective inks. It's a sport, but it's based off the old wars between Octolings and Inklings, 200 years ago when the sea levels were so high there wasn't enough land to share. The Inklings won, and we were forced into crumbling underground domes while they took over the surface."
Eight looks away from Keni for just a second. He's not exactly broken up about anything he just said, but now he has to transition into his own story and it's harder when your own life is something you have mostly heard about second-hand.
"I was born in one of those domes. I left to try and build a life on the surface when I was 14, but I fell into a trap set by an AI for fleeing Octolings. It scrubbed me of my memories right down to my name, and dubbed me Applicant 10008. So...Eight."
He pauses to see if Keni has questions. It's a lot already and he isn't even close to done.
Panorama
It seems like she has other interests, turning back to the vendor and fishing something out from the inside of her jacket pocket. She shakes a small box of cigarettes at the vendor and murmurs something. There's a quick exchange of subtle gestures, a pregnant pause by the vendor, and then a nod. She gives him the cigarettes and he gives her the umbrella. She pops it open and lowers it to Eight.
"Trade it for a bigger one when it stops raining." She hikes the collar up on her jacket and moves away from this vendor in the direction of food stalls, believing the exchange between all parties to be complete and over.
no subject
Or maybe it's what she's wearing. A jacket over a jumpsuit is definitely the most unusual outfit he's seen so far today. One of the Freshest too, the saturated jewel-tone blues contrasting the yellow of her hair without overpowering either. It's a powerful look, and the jacket doesn't detract from it a bit.
He watches her indirectly as she evaluates him. Not going to be the last time today someone will do that, he suspects. He watches her with curiosity as she pulls out the cigarettes and trades it for his prize. Ah, it's that kind of world. Did he do this kind of trading back in the Octarian army? Or did the Octolings in his unit share the little forbidden treasures they found without strings? He wishes he could remember.
She hands him the umbrella, and he smiles, slight but sincere. "Thank you," he says, looking her in the eyes.
Her eyes-
That's it!
It's the look. That look. The look like a shark's tooth or a stonefish spine. He'd seen it in Agent 3's eyes that day in the Deepsea Metro when they broke the blender and when they were fighting through their sanitation and maybe, when he tries to fill in the holes of his memory with his imagination, even as they marched into the ring with DJ Octavio.
And knowing Agent 3 saved his life once.
She turns to leave. He hesitates. What would he even ask of her anyway? Maybe it's better to just let her get on with her day, find connections elsewhere.
"Wait."
He tucks the umbrella under his arm. Deep breaths, Eight. You're doing this.
"...You're an Elite. Among humans, I mean. I can tell."
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All she did was get him an umbrella. Still, she recognizes something in him maybe he too doesn't want to admit. "You're braver than you give yourself credit for, if you're willing to go out in the rain at all." She starts walking again. "If what you said is true."
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It's a question for the universe as much as it is for her. It's not the first time he's been called brave. Maybe he is, but what does that mean when the alternative to bravery is death, literal or otherwise. He could have stayed in Octo Valley. He could have walked away from Kamabo without his memories or his freedom. He could leave his people to their fate, forgotten underground in their zombified state. He could get a job here and bought the umbrella and faced the idea that he was torn from his important work to give out samples. Or he could turn into an octopus and hide under the shelves past closing and wait out the rain all night if he had to.
He can't pretend any of those feel like real choices.
"You have a certain look in your eye. It's a look like...crashing waves eroding rock. It reminds me so much of my captain that...I guess when you say you aren't special, I have a hard time believing it."
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"Do you miss your Captain?"
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He nods.
"I do. I miss all my friends, but the Captain is..."
Eight watches raindrops hit a puddle as he tries to wrestle his feelings in order.
"...I was about to do something very important before I came here, something that would have brought my people out of a six year nightmare. Then I woke up here with no idea how to get back. I just feel so lost. The Captain is the strongest, boldest person I know. They always stay two steps ahead and...I keep wondering what they would do but...I can't come up with the answer."
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She doesn't feel it's her place to offer sage advice despite feeling quiet sympathy for him, and she is mutely curious. "What were you trying to do?"
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He can probably give her the short version of the story.
"I come from an underground society of Octolings and when I was 14 that society collapsed. Thousands of us left for the surface to look for a better life. A company from the Old World, Kamabo Co, set a trap to catch us as we fled. The AI that ran it figured out he could chemically treat blended Octoling bodies to scrub us clean of...everything. Our memories, our hopes, our fears, our desires...everything. He called it Sanitation. Recently, my friend Marina figured out a way to help those who were Sanitized: by uploading someone's consciousness and their separated memories into virtual reality, they can...merge them somehow? I don't know, that sort of tech stuff goes over my head."
He leans his full weight against the wall, arms folded against the rainy day chill.
"I was the first test subject. I had the helmet on, I heard Marina say she was starting the program and...then I woke up in that scrap yard with those masked men offering me that bike." He huffs a shaky sigh.
"Funny how much this feels like the exact same trap as back then."
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freshOctoling shoes."Recover your memories and others' memories... It's noble." She'd understand why he'd want to get back into it... even if apparently that test didn't go so well and he ended up here. She'd question if this any of this was another virtual reality or not if she went through all of that. Another trap.
"I've trained on plenty of holographic targets to know this isn't another virtual world. It's a nexus." She frowns. "If an AI is involved in this it's too soon to tell."
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"Mmm..." Eight puzzles this over in his mind. It's a clue, but it's not putting him any closer to the answer he's seeking. "I feel like the more I learn about this place the less I understand. What's your experiences with...nexuses like this?"
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She's experienced portals. Transdimensional fluxes. Infinity Voids. Worm holes. Dimensional rifts. A Nexus is an all but guaranteed concept but admittedly this is her first time experiencing it so explicitly; so many places pulled into one. She will look at him and frankly answer him.
"The planet Aether suffered an impact from a cosmic object so violent and profound it split the planet between two dimensions... one of light and one of dark. I had to traverse both to restore balance."
She holds up two fingers. "That was just two places pulled into one."
She lowers her hand and gestures loosely to the open air. "Here, as a fluxdrift... it could be countless more."
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What was swimming around the back of his mind is pulled to the forefront by her next statement. The metaphysics of a planet splitting into light and dark are well beyond him, but the Metro was in a different dimension as well, if what Marina said in the group chat was true.
His eyes dart as his mind races trying to process what he's learning. He'd press her for details but...what could he even ask that would help here? He very much doubts that she'd be here if she knew the way to leave.
He watches a few cars roll by, headlights illuminating the rain drops pattering on the pavement in quiet thought before he speaks next.
"But...you did restore balance."
It's not a question in the most literal sense. She probably wouldn't be here talking to him if she hadn't. The real question he had, asked and answered in that same question, is simply: is there hope?
He pushes himself off the wall, standing up straight. His refreshed determination likely shows in his own eyes, even if he still doesn't quite know what he has to do.
"If it really is countless...that means there's a lot of work to be done."
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Would that she could hide behind her visor. She does her best to keep a mask up without it but it threatens to crack under his determination. She looks away, sighs, makes a slight show of begrudged acceptance, smirking.
"So what's the plan little one? Send everyone back to their homes, or heal this world?"
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More pressingly: he doesn't know the answer to her question. Usually he has help with this kind of thing, someone to guide him or help him figure this kind of thing out. Marina would probably be able to untangle what's going on here within a day or two (and Pearl would just tear things apart until she got answers) but for Eight it's still just knots.
"Well...if this world is pulling people in because it's broken in some way then sending them home wouldn't do any good. They could just get pulled back in or it'll take someone else...but maybe people being pulled in is destabilizing the world? Maybe there's another force involved but..."
He sighs, undeterred but acutely aware of how little he understands about their situation. "I don't know. I don't even know how we'd find out."
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If he's not a squid then he's a kid.She listens and tips her head in muted agreement, liking his answer despite his uncertainty. She agrees. "It's okay to not know right away."
Samus would not profess to be the most patient person in the world but when it came to unraveling a world's mysteries, this was a constant feature—the one reassurance when nothing else seemed to make sense or when the world(s) seemed most dire and hostile. It will take time.
It could be that this world is staying stable at the cost of others, she considers adding but that opens up an entirely new can of space worms of morality and ethics to think about. She reminds herself of her own patience.
She rises to her full height again. "Moving forward is one step at a time."