Chapter Text
With the green wafts of smoke dissipating from the sky, the scent of fresh blood returns full force to the small island. Soft sprays of red droplets hit the island as the blood sea thrashes and froths sluggishly against the rocks. Schools of native legs kick and spin in the dark red tides churning below entities’ feet.
With the Lonely Door closed and the smoke cleared, Ena’s quest to locate the Boss resumes. The distant mountains are stark against the pale skybox, and with it distant lights reveal themselves on the horizon. As Froggy explains it, the next step is to locate a reliable ride to cross the blood sea.
Meanwhile, Coral Glasses pretends to watch the legs.
“That lousy playground might have one.” Froggy croaks, “But hey, ain’t the Crowd Door restricted?”
“They don’t seem to appreciate soliciting, no.” Ena responds with a knowing tight-lipped grin. “But it’s not like ice ever stopped the leg from fishing.”
“Uh. Sure.” Froggy waves off Ena’s nonchalance. “I can’t imagine that Piero guy would be happy to know you’re in the neighborhood. Especially after–”
“Ah ah ah!” Ena interjects swiftly. “I smell business in the air.”
“Oi, you sure? It still kind of smells like naphthalene…” Froggy frowns, “But, still. I’d rather take the Crowd Door as a last resort.”
The two’s quest to find the Boss doesn’t exactly involve Coral Glasses.
She may be hired onto the same island, but Coral hesitates to call them coworkers. It’s a complicated circumstance, and she’ll only be here for so long. Coral was specifically hired to find a qualified entity to hold the Horse Door’s genie inauguration. Once that's over, so is her stay.
Thing is, she’s a liiiiiitttle bit out of her depth.
The entities called her a ‘professional,’ but all Coral feels like is a fish out of water.
Instructions are fed through her hairline and into her hands, but what qualifies someone to stage a welcome party? Will they come to her, or will she find them hiding under a rock? Knowing this World, probably, but the locals serve no help. The best Coral has found herself doing is handing out her fax information and patiently waiting for a candidate to come crawling to her. All the while she anxiously strings the scattered instructions sent through her spine in an effort to piece together what exactly she’s supposed to do.
Her temporary colleagues’ business was, respectfully, none of hers! The absolute last thing she needs is to get involved in some wild Boss chase.
… Is what she tells herself.
Because despite fervently convincing herself of her contractual uninvolvement, Coral finds herself sneaking glances at the bickering duo.
Froggy and Coral haven’t chatted much outside necessary introductions. In Coral’s short time at the Vivarium, he was quick to stand in for the Boss’ absence, and quicker to offload the work onto everyone else.
And then there's Ena. The segmented entity is all disjointed dances, twirls, and business lingo. Her conman-like voice effortlessly snagging Coral’s attention like a bird to a snail. Their meeting was brief and bewildering. Flashing through Coral’s life with the eye-catching pull of an extinct bird or maybe flying hornets' nest.
There was something alluring about her, something Coral can’t put her finger on. Like a glistening fishhook in an empty sea, promising but cautionary.
The two continue to go back and forth easily, enrapturing the plaza in their discussion.
If Coral is going to be honest with herself, Froggy and Ena’s quest might be the most interesting thing going on at the Vivarium beyond the happy gamblers. She feels herself subconsciously leaning back towards the conversation, pretending to gaze out into the sea as she drinks in the chatter.
“Seriously? I won’t pretend like I don’t know how loaded the Boss is, but surely he has a pedalo somewhere.”
“No… but if you’re willing to float for the cause, I am in possession of a paddle!” Ena pulls something from her pockets, spinning it casually in her palm.
“No… no thanks…” Froggy grimaces and Ena stuffs the object away. Froggy turns his head to the side and Ena follows his gaze. “Ah. What about your Door, ma’am?”
A beat of silence follows and–Shit, were they talking to her?
For a long agonizing second, Coral is frozen in the fear the two had caught her in her lackluster eavesdropping. She peels her eye off the sea to glance upwards, thin sheets of nonsensical numbers tumbling from her slack fingers as she stares stupidly at Froggy and Ena. She hardly heard what Froggy had asked, her jaw gaping open like a fish before slowly speaking up.
“...Door?"
Expectant stares confirm her suspicions as a ringtone pierces the air and sweat cascades down her face. Fallen papers forgotten, Coral straightens her back and adjusts her glasses.
“No-No. Not exactly.” Coral Glasses stutters out, desperate to recover from her earlier fumble. “I’ve yet to find someone to hold the inauguration.”
“Aye? What about that one girl?” Froggy asks, scratching the back of his head. “Didn’t she come in here a bit ago?”
Coral Glasses grimaces. She was kind of hoping he’d leave it at that. “Their portfolio… while… impressive, wasn’t what I was looking for. So, I’m still looking for more blood samples.”
“Catastrophically unfortunate, my friend.” Ena speaks up with the same plastic grin and eyes. Coral regards her hesitantly. It was hard to know if she was being genuine or not.
Froggy groans in defeat, massaging his face before turning back to face Ena, “Looks like we’ll need to catch a train after all. Ekghh… I hate getting my feet wet.”
Ena’s eyes snap over to Froggy, a curious expression enveloping her face before it twists into a grin, “We?”
“Yes, yes. I’ll be coming with,” Froggy exasperatedly replies before shooting an accusatory finger at Ena, “but don’t think for one second I’ll be picking up your slack.”
Ena lifts her hands in a disarming gesture, though a teasing grin remains plastered to her face. She folds her arms behind her back, following after the man as he beckons her towards the stairs.
Meanwhile in the Coral’s peripherals, a different entity, suited with red gloves, a trench coat, and sticker for a face, slowly inches backwards. Apparently, the action wasn’t very subtle because Froggy backtracks to scruff them by their neck. It doesn’t exactly work seeing as the entity has at least a head of height over the frog man, but they still thrash in protest.
“You’re coming too. I don’t trust you not to scamper off.”
“I AM DRATULA.”
Coral awkwardly watches as Froggy drags the suited entity and heads down the stairs, raising a brow at the interaction. With the meeting concluded and half the crowd dragged back into the Vivarium, the island suddenly feels practically deserted. There are a few stray entities here and there, but all the slot machines are underground. Coral is half convinced none of them are employed at the island anyway.
Coral sighs. Partly relieved, partly disappointed. Her free trial to in-house entertainment has expired, but perhaps that's for the best. After all, this is her chance to do what she’s been trying to convince herself to do and get back to… waiting. Yep...
She really should’ve taken that other job.
A genie welcome party sounded fun initially. Coral had hoped the festivities would distract her from her life crumbling apart, but here she is. Stewing in the boredom of her own bad decisions and stuck in the chaos of a directionless business.
At the very least, she’s getting paid for it.
A begrudging sigh escapes Coral as she bends down to pick the scattered papers off the floor.
“Coral.”
Coral Glasses jolts, whipping upright to face Ena.
Coral had assumed Ena had followed Froggy down with the other entity, but here she is. Ena stands there; arms held politely behind her floating back. Triangular eyes peering up at Coral with lukewarm courtesy and intrigue. A tight smile graces Ena’s two-faced lips, and she stares at Coral expectantly. Coral’s heart pumps loudly in her chest as she lifts a shaky finger to point to herself, a nervous smile silently asking, ‘me?’
“That is your name, right?” Coral doesn’t get the chance to respond before Ena speaks up again.
“Perfect.” Ena purrs, doing some beckoning gesture with her hands. “You should accompany us.”
Coral Glasses blinks lamely in surprise, completely caught off guard by Ena’s request. The pale growth on her face vibrates gently, betraying Coral’s shock. Her? Coral? What help could she be? “Uhh, is that necessary?”
Ena’s head suddenly appears over her shoulder, causing Coral to jump. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she sneaks a glance at the segmented woman behind her. A shiver crawls down her spine as Ena speaks just above her shoulder.
“What better way to search for new candidates than to dive out onto the field getting your hands dirty?”
Coral subtly squints. Was this Ena’s way of telling her to get to work?
“You’ve been cooped up in the Vivarium for far too long, it's time to stretch your legs, no?” Ena’s head drifts lazily back over to her body, hands juggling quantum chainsaws. Her tone is less teasing than before, more so… eager. Like she’s offering Coral a business proposition she simply can’t refuse.
Coral catches herself considering Ena’s words.
There was a present uncertainty in the idea of taking up Ena’s offer. This World was unstable and unpredictable, a bad time to take your chances and risk seeing how much luck was on your side. But, well… Ena wasn’t wrong. The sooner Coral could find a candidate, the sooner she could get out of here. If picking them out in the wild was what she had to do? Then that's business.
Besides, Ena sent Taski, so Coral wasn’t quick to rely on Ena for any future suggestions anyway.
Coral pinches the bridge of her nose, fingernail clashing roughly with the hypnotic shell of her glasses. She can’t believe she’s doing this. “You know what? Sure. I’m not doing anything here anyway.”
“Ah-ha!” Ena beams, her body quick to start marching down the stairs while her head lags behind to hold eye contact. She grins as if she won the hourglass dog lottery, “Let's tidy up shop then, shall we?”
Despite herself, Coral smiles.
Ena’s disembodied head floats to catch up with the rest of its body down in the Vivarium and Coral Glasses moves from her spot to give chase.
Coral has to admit, it's easy to get caught up in Ena’s energy. She supposes it's some kind of business tactic. Distract her target with vocabulary and flashy movements until they cave and make a deal? Either way, whatever she’s doing, it worked. She’s something akin to the rising tide, tugging Coral along if she’ll let it and pulling her farther and farther from shore. Swept away down orange stairs and into halls filled with bright lights and chatter.
Coral takes the chance to look around herself as they descend down a level. Neon lights flicker morse hellos as lanterns dance around them. She had been down here before when she initially arrived, but it was just a few minutes before opening. The lights were on but everything was off, from the slot machines to the blood fountain. Now it’s like stepping into a whole new world.
Lights buzz and flicker in waves on the walls, bringing a viral sensation to the hallway. Pink and yellow lights swirl and dance around each screen, mouths gaping hungrily at Coral’s mere presence.
With the added lights and liveliness, the change of scenery is suddenly much appreciated.
It’s not long until the two officially reunite with Dratula and Froggy down the hall. Froggy spots Coral, giving her a mildly surprised look. He purses his lips sourly, but his frustration is more directed at Ena.
“Ena. This isn’t a party, you can’t just drag strangers along.” Froggy pinches the bridge of his nose before flailing his hand in exaggerated exasperation.
“Au contraire mon ami. This is a fellow businesswoman!” Ena hooks an arm around Coral’s waist, tugging her along nonchalantly. “I’d expect you not to get in the way of her business.”
Coral and Froggy look at each other. She offers him an awkward smile and he just sighs.
“Alright, alright.” He waves the two over in a quick defeat. “Get over here, we’re wasting work hours.”
Ena slips away from Coral’s side, patting her back before jogging ahead. Coral, frazzled, hastily staggers after the group.
They’re not really a group, are they? It’s Froggy, Ena, their hostage, and Coral. Why? Because Ena decided it was a good idea. Despite it, there's a sort of confidence that comes with numbers. Out there in the plaza she was cold, bare, out in the open for all to see. A business tactic of course, but as Coral trails after the others like a lost puppy, relief steadily seeps into her expression. Her steps become more confident and back straightens to peer over their heads.
The Vivarium is not big by any means. Soon after reuniting, the group turns sharply right into another hallway. From there, Coral can already spy the Crowd Door’s entrance.
There, hidden on the left side of the room is the decorated frame of the Crowd Door. Bright yellow tape is draped over the entrance, rendering it closed off and restricted. Regardless, the group presses on forward and approaches the cyan gateway.
Ena steps towards it, casually brushing off the ribbons of tape hung haphazardly across the Door’s frame. The suspiciously anti-Ena decals pulled aside and off the glittering gold with little to no regard.
Coral sidesteps the toppled yellow signs to join the other’s awkward huddle in the Crowd Door’s hallway. She glances from the discarded tape to the signs to the casual expressions of her companions with growing suspicion.
“Are we going to get in trouble for this?” She asks curiously, a bead of sweat forming at her temple.
Froggy laughs, “Oh, yeah, definitely. But what the Boss doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“HEY. ENA is banned from the Crowd Door!” The shrill voice of the Receptionist shrieks from behind them. Coral flinches, turning sharply to catch the green robotic entity dance and swivel from her post behind the counter. Her accompanying televisions glitch in furious static as the Receptionist barks out, “Are you cheap snails BLIND?”
“Curtain calls!” Ena chirps, skipping over to the side of the Crowd Door to deliver three polite knocks from her red knuckles.
Immediately the heads of the Door creak towards them in unison, regarding the small group with cold resignation. The glittering bismuth held within the figures’ hands promptly pops to behold a swirling singularity. Immediately there is a harsh tug on Coral’s chest, and she reflexively shuts her eyes.
It’s a strange feeling, going between Doors. It’s as if Coral is being remade. Flexed inside out then outwards in. Atoms pecked apart then placed back together, painless save for the nausea.
It’s as if her gut twists, her armature flipping axes as her texture fails to follow. It’s as if the atmosphere inverts, a cold chill creeping beneath her skin as she sweats from the smothering heat outside. It’s as if she’s being pulled forward on an invisible taut string, tugged into a hole in the World’s fabric and into elsewhere.
Through blearily closed eyes, colors flash around her. Hands reach towards her, grasping at the loose black fabric of her suit to tug her past the threshold.
The four disobedient entities are pulled into the Crowd Door’s grasp, the gateway closing behind them with the clap of reforming crystal. The Receptionist watches them go.
Her arms slowdown in rotation while she spies the group flee from her perch at the counter, not making a move to chase after them. With a scoff and a shrug, she pulls out a banana and lights its stem.
“Eh, they pay me too much for this shit.”
Coral Glasses is folded in through her stomach then snapped back whole like a more child friendly version of Byford Dolphin. She stumbles forward and out of breath, reeling and staggering out the Door as her lunch makes desperate attempts to flee her.
Gritting her teeth, Coral opens her eyes to see… bright blue.
She isn’t standing on any solid ground, instead she finds glass panes gilded with porcelain perpetuating themselves under her feet. Beneath that fragile barrier is an unfathomable ocean, a chlorine blue with no end in sight.
In its depths swim creatures Coral can barely excuse as fish. Schools of bright red paper cranes flit through sluggish currents alongside suspiciously eel-like lamps. Unknowable shapes dart curiously over the glass with the occasional shadow of something colossal passing overhead. No legs though, this doesn’t seem to be their preferred habitat.
Despite the sheltering glass of the playground sitting between her and the crushing weight of an infinite ocean, Coral can’t help but feel like the animal.
The playground is structured much like a kid’s park. Through the panes of the enclosure Coral can spy the distant, twirling, maze-like structure of the playground’s pellucid complex. Like a fourth dimensional slide, circular pathways curl around and into themselves. There is a bigger space in the distance, obscured by the fog of water. Most of what leads up to it seems to be a tramway.
Through the long and winding tunnels, Coral spots a long red line twirling through the water. A bright red centipede with the body segments of a roller coaster hurtles down, up, and through the translucent tunnels. A thousand legs skitter like bullets against crystal, creating a wave of thunder that reverberates through the sea as it passes over Coral Glasses. Its fluid movements are akin to dancing fire as it threads itself forward and around her. It’s both disorientating and captivating.
She watches it twirl through the water, the clittering of legs reaching their crescendo until suddenly, it stops. Ahead of her the centipede skids across the glass to an opening in the tunnel, sitting in wait for onboarding passengers.
An announcement jingle rings gently through the glass playground before a voice speaks up.
“Next stop, Playground. Remember to watch your step while boarding and prepare to have the time of your life!” A feminine voice announces over the intercom before getting rudely interrupted by a loud, grating, robotic voice, “NO ENA.”
Coral Glasses shoots Ena a curious look but if the woman noticed the aggressively targeted announcement, she doesn’t seem to care.
There are several other entities in what now looks to be a waiting hall for the centipede tram. Walking amoebas and disembodied legs begin migrating towards the arthropod at the sound of the announcer’s voice.
Ena is quick to follow after them, gliding forward on the floor with surprising speed. Froggy merely sighs, watching Ena scamper off ahead of them before motioning forward, “Let's pick up the walk speed.”
Ignoring the eyes of the outside life crawling over her back like intrusive crabs, Coral Glasses shuffles after Ena. Squeezing past disgruntled entities, Coral whispers countless apologies under her breath as she slips and shoves through lines. When she finally escapes the crowd, Coral is pretty sure she made at least ten new enemies and disrespected everyone in line.
Coral, however, seems to be the only entity with a guilty conscience as the rest of the group is happy to clamber into their respective seats near the front.
The centipede’s legs tick impatiently against the glass railway and Coral regards it with unease. She steps onto one of the legs to leverage herself upward before pausing, looking at the seats with a face of apprehension and disgust.
The centipede is partly mechanical and organic in nature. There are two doors on either side of each body segment that swing on metal hinges. But on closer inspection, the back of each segment opens up to reveal gushy purple gut-like seats with enough space to fit at least two entities. It doesn’t look at all comfortable.
Froggy and Dratula claim the frontmost seat and behind them Ena taps the open spot next to her eagerly. Coral flashes Ena a horrified look, but all it takes is a smile and Coral is climbing in with her.
With disgusted apprehension, Coral Glasses slowly glides across the seat, closing the door behind her. It’s not slimy, thank GØD, but it is squishy and somewhat moist. If she stays still long enough, or focuses too hard, she can vaguely feel a heartbeat beneath her palms.
Coral’s skin crawls with the sensation and she represses a shudder. Ena, on the other hand, relaxes. Easing back and propping her polygonal leg on her knee. An easy smirk rests on the entity’s face as she stares ahead of herself.
Coral attempts to follow Ena’s lead, tentatively leaning back against the squishy backrest even as she internally screams and cringes. Ultimately, she fails as the centipede’s body suddenly rocks. Sending her frantically gripping the cold chitin edges of their body segment as the seats slosh unsteadily.
“First time?” A familiar voice says uncomfortably close to Coral’s ear. Coral Glasses immediately whips around to face the familiar cat-like features of one Taski Maiden.
Coral jumps, reeling back as her arms flail in a desperate attempt to create distance. “Why!? Why are you here?” Coral yelps.
“Uuuuhh, you hired me! o’-’o duuuh!!” Taski supplies helpfully, square digits clacking on the shell of her seat as she dangles over the edge to hover between Coral and Ena.
Confusion washes over Coral’s face as she sputters, “I… no?? I don’t think I…”
“NO YOU DID!!! I HAVE A JOB NOW!”
Coral flinches as Taski shrieks in her ear. A look of dismay crosses Coral’s face before going through the stages of grief twice over. Eventually she sighs and relents, “I guess I did then.”
Taski giggles and victoriously sputters a series of unintelligible gibberish as she leans back into her seat behind them. Coral groans, massaging her temples as she adds under her breath, “I really hope the Boss doesn’t hear about this.”
She doesn’t want to be held responsible if some random entity starts insisting they work there. She faintly recalls telling Taski to go somewhere else and be quiet. Of course, it's only natural for it to get misinterpreted to such a fine degree. So, she has a decent excuse if it ever comes to bite her… Coral just hopes she’ll be out of there before it has the chance to.
Stuck in her anxious moping, it's not long until the rest of the centipede is filled with passengers. The red arthropod sighs under the collective weight before shuttering onwards, the clacks of legs on glass announcing each and every one of its steps.
They’re a decent distance away from the station at this point before a jingle sounds and another announcement echoes down the tunnel to reach them.
“Will YOU be one of the lucky few to live the life of a carefree, flying gold metal? Or are you up for dinner with Piero the Genie, in the Aquarium? The answer is easy! NO ENA.”
The centipede picks up speed surprisingly quickly, going from cruising to fast with little effort. Rhythmic clicks turn into a thunderous roar as the sound of the centipede’s legs against the glass echo back and forth within the tunnel.
Coral’s grip on the edges of her seat tightens as the centipede turns sharply between each shaft. If it was possible for her to get paler, Coral is sure she’d be a deathly shade as the blood abandons her face. Her gut does gymnastics, gaining a freefall feeling with each dip and rise.
It goes that way for a while, and at that point Coral feels like she’s going to be sick. The coral off the side of her face oozes sicklies red stripes as they careen through another twist. Her outline flickers as her body is encased in harsh black lighting. Cold sweat drips down her face while Coral feverishly grips the side of her ride.
At some point they come to a crossroads, but Coral hardly notices it in her nausea. At first it looked like they were about to dip to their right, before suddenly the centipede jostles. As if flicked by an invisible hand, the centipede staggers over to the left and continues its march.
The sudden bump in the road brings out a few giggles from around Coral, but Coral can only swallow thickly as her throat tightens.
Eventually it slows down, much to Coral’s relief.
Her ride tilts upward and Coral slumps, tension helplessly fleeing from her shoulders as she groans. She breathes deeply in an attempt to chase the nausea away, absolutely drenched in sweat.
“This wasn’t part of the job description.” Coral helplessly mutters into her palms. She wipes the sweat from her brow, returning to her normal composure as her stomach settles. She doesn’t know how the other entities can handle it. But then again, Coral never took roller coasters exceptionally well. At least, she doesn’t think she did.
But whatever momentary relief turns to ash in Coral’s mouth. To Coral’s mounting horror, the centipede is only slowly scaling an increasingly steep drop. Its legs flail and scratch against the glass, crawling up the tunnel at agonizing speed. Its body clicks and shutters beneath her, jumbling the passengers while the centipede desperately crawls.
Coral is briefly aware of the feeling that something is wrong when a jingle pierces the air and the intercom flairs to life once more.
“‘What’s the catch?’ you may be wondering. you may be wondering. you may be wondering.”
The static of the intercom echoes through the tunnels, haunting the tramway with the same eerie advertisement. Taunting them.
Coral must not be the only one sensing something wrong because suddenly there is noise. The faceless passengers around Coral start to anxiously mutter amongst themselves while the centipede pulls itself forward inch by painful inch.
"The ‘catch’ is YOU!”
After what feels like an eternity, the centipede breaches the peak of the tunnel. It crawls forward until it dangles right at the precipice, clawed legs digging into the glass with a screech. Coral feels her breath escape her as she makes the unfortunate mistake of looking down in front of them.
“You will be chosen by destiny to take a stupendous, horrendous vacation to the Aquarium!”
It just simply doesn’t end. The tunnel goes down and down and down, fading into a singular point as it dissolves into obscurity.
“Shitshishitshit.” Coral curses under her breath, desperately clinging to the seating.
There is worried talking around her. Froggy questioning if this was here before, Taski screams at them to shut up and enjoy the ride, but none of it reaches her ears. A rapid, panicked heartbeat drowns it out, accompanied by the high-pitched buzzing of pure terror flooding her senses.
She must be hallucinating. There are a lot of strange things in this World, but this is stretching it.
Coral can hardly move, completely frozen stiff in fear. Time feels like it's slowed into a mush around her, each quickened pant taking centuries to leave her mouth. As she tilts her head to glance at Ena it feels as if it takes a lifetime.
Ena sits, mismatched hands held politely in her lap. She stares ahead of herself blankly; face petrified in that same smile. But–no... There's something more to it there.
“And, don’t forget!”
Coral exhales and the world exhales with her. The world around her slowly begins to give from under Coral’s feet. Her hair is pulled back as it lashes in the wind, body slammed harshly against the seat as their collective velocity increases and increases. They plummet faster and faster and all Coral can do is helplessly stare at Ena with a look of horror.
“NO. ENA.”
Slowly, Ena’s eyes flick over to Coral’s. Her face is unmoving, a blank slate that inches ever so slowly to its left. The unfathomable black depths of Ena’s pupils encapsulate Coral’s gaze, and in them a flicker of something.
Horror? Guilt? Joy? She doesn’t know, and she doesn’t have time to process it either as all the wind is abruptly knocked from her lungs as she is tossed forward against the centipede’s shell.
Stars explode across her vision as her world breaks. She sees double, the fabric of her reality snapping open with the sound of shattering glass before everything goes black and Coral Glasses falls.