Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lights flashed overhead– big, bright, loud lights. Dakota didn’t know how he got to this strange place, but it was hard to think over the lights and music and yelling. That was the other thing; the yelling. He stood in the middle of a long row of podiums, each held a different person, many of which were shouting. Some of these people seemed normal enough, but some were quite peculiar. Some kind of bird-faced person stood next to him, while a greenish man stood adjacent, his strangely coloured skin looked almost damp under the lights. There were plenty other odd characters in this place, but before Dakota could take in his surroundings an earsplitting jingle played as a large screen lowered.

The screen had a few lines of text on it, in brightly coloured fonts. They flashed one after the other, and Dakota missed a few words, though that was no surprise due to his dyslexia.

Hello contestants!

You may be wondering why you are all here

Not to worry, as I will explain everything.

You are all here for…

The screen went dark for a moment, and a drumroll played from every corner of the room.

A game!

No duh, Dakota thought, looking at the flashing lights and podiums that surrounded him.

You will be separated into groups of three to four, and you will have to compete in challenges to win the big prize.

“What’s the prize?” asked a conniving voice that came from a brunette boy dressed in a red coat standing at a far away podium.

The prize is your ticket home!

Dakota hoped he was in a group with the rest of the PD, so they could go home to Prime together. He knew that he could solve any problem with his friends' help, so if he had even one of them on his team, it would be a piece of cake. As he fantasized about escaping back home, a second screen lowered. Well, really, it was seven small screens all deploying at the very same time. Each had a list of names displayed on their neon backgrounds.

TEAM ONE:

DAKOTA COLE, GILLION TIDESTRIDER, PAEON PESTIFUS, SHILO BATHROY

TEAM TWO:

ROLAN DEEP, EMIZEL TUCKER, TROY LOUGEFERD, MEL

TEAM THREE:

JAY FERIN, WILLIAM WISP, RUMI, JAGUAR JOE

TEAM FOUR:

KIAN STONE, ARTHUR BENNETT, RUNT, JIN

TEAM FIVE,

CHIP, LUCIA, WD, THANATOS

TEAM SIX:

TIMOTHY RAND, EVERETT JAMES PETALBRIDGE, BLINK, VYNCENT SOL

TEAM SEVEN:

ASHE WINTERS, PETER SQLOINT, BUCK BARKER

Dakota felt a bit proud that he ended up on team one, but his spirits lowered the moment he realized his friends were on completely different teams. His eyes darted around, trying to figure out who each of his teammates were. He didn’t have to worry for long though, because at the sound of a snap and the strum of an electric guitar, his vision faded to white, and he passed out.

Chapter Text

As Shilo jolted upwards from his less-than-willing rest, he noticed that he was not alone. In his straight up sitting position, arms crossed over his chest, he saw three figures. A human boy with curly red hair, a green tinted bulky man with some kind of gills on the sides of his head, and a bird-masked person in a black cloak that covered the entirety of their body. 

The redhead zipped his way over to Shilo, eyes wide. 

“How’d you sit up like that?” He asked, pulling at Shilo’s tailored clothes.

“I do not understand, this is simply how I sit.” Shilo said, pushing away from the boy.

“Cool accent!” The kid exclaimed. He had a lot of energy for someone who was just teleported to a different dimension. “My name's Dakota Cole!” He announced.

“Shilo Bathroy,” He said, dusting his clothes off as he stood. “And who are you two?” He asked the others.

“I am Gillion Tidestrider, Champion of The Undersea, Hero of The Deep,” Gillion said proudly, his hands on his hips. 

“Green skin is a symptom of chlorosis.” Muttered the bird person, who was pointing a needle finger towards Gillion as she examined him thoroughly. After some weird looks, he stopped examining and looked at the others. “Forgive me. I am Paeon Pestifus.” They said with a snake-like accent on the “s”.

Shilo shifted nervously, rubbing his gloved hands together as he glanced about the mostly empty room. The only thing of note was a towering grey wall in the middle of the room, dotted with plastic juttouts, almost like handholds. Shilo stepped towards the wall, his hand outstretched as he nervously traced a green shape. 

“Oh cool, a climbing wall!” Dakota shouted as he ran to the object. “I used to train on these things, till I learned to climb real mountains.” He jumped onto the wall and began his way upwards.

Gillion made his way over, staring at the wall as if it were a beast to vanquish. Suddenly, he jumped up, and instead of using the handholds to scale it, he stabbed his claws into the tough plastic of the tall board, and climbed upwards with monstrous speed.

Shilo turned to Paeon, hoping she would be just as lost as Shilo, and that he wouldn’t be the only one unable to reach the top. Paeon didn’t seem to notice Shilo’s glance, and started climbing very cautiously. Shilo stared upwards, and saw the other two climb to the halfway point. 

Shilo grabbed onto a blue hold, and hoisted himself up. His tight fitting clothes tugged at his skin, and he dropped down as soon as he made it a few feet up. “Crap on a cracker.” He muttered. 

He was ready to accept his fate at the bottom of this wall when he had an idea. “Red hair– er- Dakota, would you please come down?” It was always very easy to mesmerize humans, especially those with lower-than-average intellect. Dakota immediately began his descent, and very quickly made it to the bottom. “Could you please help me get to the top?”

In barely a minute, Shilo was holding onto Dakota piggy-back style as he launched upwards on the wall. Gillion was waiting at the top of the wall, and Paeon came seconds after Shilo and Dakota made it. Shilo released his mental hold on Dakota, and thanked him politely. 

Trumpet played ceremoniously as a door at the top opened, and the group walked through to the next room. 

Chapter Text

Runt opened her eyes and saw rows upon rows of neatly trimmed hedges, and three confused looking men. She stood up and got her bearings. She was in front of the entrance to some kind of plant-cube thing she couldn’t see over top of. Everything else was a pure white colour that hurt her eyes.

“Where are we?” She asked the others. She figured she could get some answers out of at least one of them.

“Uhh… I dunno, dude… This is bogus.” Said a blonde long haired man who was not wearing a shirt under his fluffy leopard print coat. 

“Yeah, I have no clue.” added a brunette who was pushing himself off the ground. 

“I don’t know either.” A dark haired and dark dressed man responded. “What are your names?” He asked the group, each word was said deliberately and slowly.

“Kian Stone,” Said the leopard coat wearing guy, who was staring at the darkly dressed man with his half-lidded and tired looking eyes. “Can you tone down the edgyness?”

“Runt. My name’s Runt.” She said, ignoring the idiotic blonde. “How are we gonna get out of here?”

“Jin, and uh.. I think I see the way out.”

Runt turned to look at where Jin was pointing towards, and saw the rows of bushes again, though this time, she realized they weren’t just bushes; they were a maze. Runt peered into the entrance, and saw several winding paths, assumedly leading towards an exit. She bolted in, not bothering to alert her teammates of her decision. They could catch up if they wanted, she thought. 

As she ran through the first lines of the maze no problem, she slid to a halt as she nearly slammed into a leafy wall. Damnit, wrong way. She ran backwards, and went left that time, but found a dead end again. She tried another way. Dead end. She was beginning to think there wasn’t a way out, and this was some kind of maze purgatory. 

She ripped at the leaves out of frustration, but realized that despite her efforts, they weren’t tearing at all. They didn’t even seem to be real leaves. 

She trudged back to the start in defeat, and saw the other three in the corner of her eye. She scurried over to them, and stood in front of them.

“Okay, cheeseballs, we need a plan here!” she yelled, waiting for a response. 

“Yo, little dude, chill out.” Kian said, holding out a cigarette to Runt.

“Hell no!” She pushed his hand away; a cigarette would probably kill her on the spot. 

“That’s a kid.” Jin said with a laugh, but he was clearly a bit concerned. Kian just shrugged, and lit the cigarette for himself. He offered another one to the darkly dressed brooding man, who accepted it. He never said his name, but Runt easily recalled the names on team four, and by order of elimination, his name was Arthur.

Runt paced around the maze, trying to think of an idea. She glanced at the lighter Kian clutched in his hand. Without saying a word, she snatched the lighter from his hand, which only garnered a slightly annoyed “dude” from the blonde. 

She flicked the lighters a couple times, and held the flame to the wall, which singed the leaves slightly. Just like she expected, the “leaves” only became discoloured, but they didn’t catch fire. She showed her discovery to the others. Jin seemed incredibly impressed, not because of the fire-proof leaves, but the lighter. Arthur raised an eyebrow, which based on the amount of actual emoting he had done prior, seemed like a big reaction. Kian muttered something that sounded like “radical”. 

She explained that if they traced every path they took with the lighter flame, they wouldn’t be able to get across.

After several minutes of walking, Kian spoke up. “You dress like you’re from the 1900’s.” He commented, pointing at Arthur.

“You dress like you're from the 80’s.” Arthur responded matter-of-factly.

“Ha- obviously.” Arthur gave a strange glance at Kian, but didn’t say much else. 

Runt kept walking, holding the lighter up to the wall. She was interrupted for a moment when the nervous voice of Jin came from next to her.

“Are you a monster?” He asked, squinting his eyes. 

“A what? No!”

“But you’ve got those ears, and your hair’s all purple, and your legs look…” He glanced at her mechanical bracers. “Weird.”

“First off, I’m a rat– not a monster.” This didn’t seem to clear things up for him. “Second off, my hair is normal, and lastly, these are my leg bracers. So I can walk.”

Jin didn’t say anything other than “Oh,” but he didn’t seem to believe her. 

They made it to a three way split, and while Runt and Arthur were contemplating which way, Kian started walking left. He didn’t hear their calls for him to return, so the others ran after him. He stood in front of a tall arched door while humming a song Runt didn’t know. The door seemed fancy, and looked rather like an exit.

“Use the knocker!” Jin suggested, pointing at the door knocker.

Kian laughed. “Knockers…” he joked to himself as he hit the door with it. The door swung open, and trumpet played triumphantly as the team walked in.

Chapter Text

Mel woke up in a white room. She pushed herself off the cold floor and assessed her situation. The room was some kind of empty void, or it would’ve been if there wasn’t an easel in the middle. Or a bunch of other people. Mel walked over to someone, a man in a suit who was splayed out on the floor. She kicked him in the side gently, then less gently.

“Ow- what the-” He shuffled away from her.

“I was waking you up. What’s going on?” She asked, though she figured he knew just as much as she did (which was nothing). 

“Hell if I know,” he muttered, standing up from the floor. “God this place is weird…”

“What’s your name?” Mel asked. Normally, she wouldn’t trust a person like this, but he seemed just as confused as she was. 

“Rolan Deep.” He responded, running a hand through his dark, slicked back hair. Mel told him her name in return, and the two observed the others.

A scruffy looking boy in a jacket laid directly across from them, curled up on the empty white floor. His lip was curled in a snarl as he slept, and he looked ready to bite someone's face off at a moment's notice. Mel stared down at him, and prodded him with her foot. He immediately twitched and kicked her away, but kept sleeping. She tried again, but knew the only way to get this guy awake was through force, which was one of her specialties.

“Wake up!” Mel shouted, kicking him hard– maybe too hard– in the chest. His eyes shot open, revealing blood red irises that burned with a kind of rage you don’t typically see on people who had just woken up. He slammed his foot into Mel’s shin with a hard thud, and leapt up from the ground. Mel knew how to hold her ground, and kept standing. If this kid wanted to fight, they were gonna fight. She held up her fists, ready to throw a punch the moment he let his guard down. She slid out of the way of a slash aimed towards her face, and clocked him across the face. He looked unfazed, so Mel readied another hit. Before she could land one though, Rolan jumped between the two, his eyes wide and frantic.

“We shouldn’t waste our time fighting!” He yelled with a strict tone. Mel rolled her eyes, but he was right. They needed to get out of here. Wherever “here” was. The guy who had just kicked Mel (her shin still hurt, so she wasn’t going to forget easily)  crossed his arms and looked to the side.

A grumble came from the last guy, a man with styled blonde hair and a pristine red racing suit  who seemed to be waking up. Mel pulled him to his feet, and looked pensively at him, waiting for him to say anything. He squinted, and muttered a few curses before reaching behind him. His eyes widened at shock when he found that there was nothing there.

“My sled!” He cried, patting down his body, as if it was going to be in his pocket or something. 

After a couple seconds of watching him frantically search for a sled that clearly wasn’t there, Mel walked towards the centre of the room, and stood in front of the easel. On it laid a pencil, and a tall stack of paper sheets. On the floor was a bucket full of little paper slips. Mel picked up one from the bucket, and read the text on it.

“Flower” it read. Mel didn’t know why someone would possibly need a piece of paper with the word “flower” on it, but she pocketed it.

“Do any of you know what this is?” She asked, gesturing to the easel. The guy wearing a jacket walked up and observed it. He had messy blonde hair, and all his teeth ended in sharp points, like a shark's maw.

“Looks like an easel.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” She responded snidely. “Seriously though.”

“Uhh…” he peered at the bucket of words. “Looks like pictionary to me.”

Mel raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

“Y’know, Pictionary. The game where you draw?”

Mel shrugged. 

“Ugh, fine. You pick up a word, you have to draw that in like a minute or something, and other people have to guess.” He said, as if Mel was stupid for not knowing. Though, with his tone, she worried she might have been.

Mel accepted the answer, and fished the paper she drew from earlier out of her pocket, and grabbed the pencil. She drew a circle in the middle.

“The sun?” He asked. She shook her head, and drew a petal. “A bike?” She shook her head, and decided not to ask what a bike was. She added another petal, but he kept squinting at the drawing.

She added more petals, and then a stem.

“Oh, flower!” He stated. 

“Nice.” She said, placing the pencil back down.

“You did the thing, shouldn’t we be out now?” Asked Rolan, who was apparently watching the whole game. 

Mel shrugged, and turned to the scruffy guy. “What’s your name?” She didn’t want to keep calling him the scruffy guy.

“Emizel.” He said. “So, Mel, what’s the plan?”

She didn’t have one. 

“I’ve got an idea!” Said the blond man from behind them. He seemed to have stopped looking for his sled. “What if we broke the easel?”

Hell yeah, breaking stuff. The blonde man, who she figured was named Troy based on the letters written on his jacket in glittering rhinestones, ran over to the easel and slammed his fist into the wood. The easel didn’t move an inch, but Troy tried again. After watching Troy fail to do anything got a bit tiring, Emizel started kicking at the easel. Mel joined in, mostly out of boredom. The three attacked the easel for several minutes, while Rolan stressed behind them, urging them off the easel. 

“Guys, I don’t think this is working.” He glanced at the unmoving easel, then back at their determined faces. “Maybe we should try playing the game all together?” He offered. Didn’t seem like a terrible idea. Mel got one more punch in before stepping back, and the others followed suit.

The four stood around the easel, and Troy quickly asked (more correctly ordered) to go first. He fished around the bucket for a paper, and his first word aloud. Then he was told that he wasn’t supposed to say it, and he drew another one.

He sketched out a circle, then put two semi circles inside. Mel guessed “the moon”, which was incorrect. He added a curved line inside the circle, then added what looked like pupils inside the semi circles.

“A face?” Rolan guessed, which wasn’t correct. Troy added what looked like hair to the top of the circle, then eyelashes to the eyes. Mel couldn’t think of anything it could be other than a face. Troy theme added a neck and shoulders, and adorned the shirt with little badges. It kind of looked like his racing suit.

“Is it you?” Emizel asked, clearly thinking the same thing as Mel. Troy shook his head (even though it was clearly him), and continued adding more details until it was a decently accurate portrait of himself.

“I give up.” Rolan admitted. Mel agreed. Troy held the piece of paper for them to see. It said “win”.

 Mel flung her hands into the air, exasperated. How was she supposed to guess that? Emizel must have thought the same thing, because before she knew it, Troy was dangling in the air by his collar as Emizel lifted him up, his– were those claws? –Were sharpened and held threateningly at Troy's face. His eyes were wide with terror as he kicked his feet for Emizel to drop him, but he seemed to be held with supernatural strength.

“What. The. Fuck.” Emizel spat. His eyes were wide, and gleamed with hunger. “We’re trying to escape this place, and your self absorbed ass can’t stop thinking of yourself!” Mel opened her mouth, but bit her tongue. She didn’t really know what to say– normally she was the violent one. “I hate people like you, ecocentric dipshits who think they’re better than everyone, just because–”

Mel slammed a fist into his face, shutting him up. Troy dropped to the floor, and gasped for air. 

“You’re being an asshole too.” Rolan said to the feral looking Emizel. Emizel shot him a glare, but it was ignored. “You need to get yourself together, and try to work with us.” He didn’t make eye contact with Emizel, and Mel couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or something else. “And you,” he said, looking at the newly disheveled Troy on the floor. “You’re not helping either.”

The team played a final round of pictionary (Mel decided she would never be playing again), and after some guessing about Rolan’s drawing, they got it correct. A trumpet played victoriously as a hidden door swung open.