Work Text:
Droning On
Back when Eight first reached the surface, she'd put up with Marina and Pearl flirting.
"I can't wait until we're finished with this, Rina. It's been ages since I've given you a private concert."
Or rather, she put up with it for about twelve hours. Once she got off the helicopter, slept, and ate her weight in sushi, she'd already gotten sick of it and demanded to know how she could move out. She was sleeping on Three's floor the next night, and officially Four's roommate mere days later.
"Oh, Pearlie!" Marina clasps her hands together and giggles. Eight resists the urge to beat her head against the elevator.
"Ya know, you two really don't need to do this here," Acht mutters. "Marina could hack just as well from the lobby."
"Yo, I'd still be here, though!"
"And leave my precious Pearlie?"
Eight groans and rests her forehead against the wall. She doesn't bang her head against it, but she does focus on how cool it feels against her skin. All her aggravation, every wave of it, vanishing into the wall.
If she puts much more in there the elevator will collapse and crush them all.
"You know, I think your concerts were one of the first times I realized I had a crush on you," Marina says. "In the back, watching you with your band... you were so passionate!"
"Aw, shell, you're making me blush," says Pearl. Eight glances back. As her drone spins, it does not, in fact, have any sort of blush. "It's easy to be passionate when you know such a pretty girl is cheering you on!"
Eight can't remember what she wants to ask—DJ Octavio? The Zapfish?—but she wishes it would splat her now. Open a superjump pad out of the elevator. She'll let Order win if it'll just end this. As she turns to rest her head against the elevator wall, she catches Acht's eyes.
Somehow, even through the shades, she can tell Acht has a matching please-splat-me-now expression.
"Yo, Eight! Choose a chip for the next floor!"
Eight bites back a sigh and turns. Pearl's got three options for her. A vending machine... she doesn't have enough to really make that worthwhile. So her two real choices are splash damage, not bad with the blaster-splatbomb build she's got going, and drone burst bombs.
Eight pauses. The splash damage chip is dangerous, and a mystery, and a rigorous floor. Might not be worth the risk.
"Honestly, Rina, I like watching you at concerts." Pearl shifts a bit, jostling the display, as she turns to look at Marina. "The way you handle those instruments..."
Who cares if it's dangerous. Eight goes for the splash damage chip. If the run ends, she'll be out of the elevator. Maybe she can shove those two behind the lockers and do the next run without them.
"Can you two shove a sock in it?" Acht asks.
"I don't wear socks with this outfit."
"And I'm a drone, dude," Pearl says.
The elevator slows to a stop. Marina frowns at her laptop. "Oh. You sure about this one, Eight?"
"Yo, Eight can handle anything!" Pearl twirls and heads for the door, only to stop at the exit. "Oh. I can't help."
Eight doesn't answer Marina, doesn't even look at her, she just leaps for the door.
"Don't leave me with these two!" Acht cries, but Eight doesn't look back.
...Huh. Cruel Sisyphean Eight-Shaped Floor.
It can't be worse than the elevator.