Chapter Text
Their escape wasn’t something grandiose, something miraculous, something amazing. Their escape was a chance taken and nothing more. And even then, none of them would even say it had been that.
It started with a memory. A vague phantom feeling of warmth, words and faces just barely falling from grasp. There wasn’t any reason for the fuzz in Charlie’s mind to clear before the others experienced the same. It wasn’t as if he was special. He was just lucky.
After the show had ended, most of the actors had been shoved into a moderately sized abandoned building within the mall, with minimal security surrounding them. The higher ups had probably assumed that they would be so shaken by the horrors they had been forced into and wouldn’t try anything as a result. And for the most part, they had been correct. The only reason that had changed was because of a memory stubbornly forcing itself into being.
None of them knew exactly when they escaped. There was no point in keeping track of time; it was impossible. There were no visible windows, no clocks, no calendars. Every second passed so agonizingly slowly it would be impossible to count. What he does know is that it took place in the timeframe between shows, where they’re so focused on getting props and updating tech for the next show that they shove all of their brainwashed, desperate actors in a room together with nowhere near enough security to properly hold them without thinking about how that could possibly backfire.
Then again, said brainwashed, desperate actors were also really shaken and depressed, so maybe it was fair for them not to expect much.
Either way, it’s the way the story starts; with a memory, with escape, with a taste of pure, unadulterated freedom.
— — —
“…Hey, Ran.”
Ranboo looks up from his slumped over position against a wall, hands wrapped around his mask out of habit as opposed to an actual attempt to remove it. “Charlie,” they reply, tone neither standoffish or friendly.
He can’t help but wrap his hands around his stomach defensively as he takes a seat next to the man, feeling phantom pain wrack through his body. Ranboo wouldn’t hurt him, and it’s not like they even can. Showfall may be negligent, but they aren’t dumb enough to give any of them weapons. “Um,” he begins hesitantly. “I know we’ve talked about escape before, but…”
Because of course they have. Charlie gave his life for it, Ranboo fell into a trap for it, and all of the people that had been strapped to the carousel were well aware of the allure the idea of freedom came with.
The other man’s face immediately shifts into weariness, and they remove his hands from the edges of their metal mask to stare at Charlie. “Yeah…? And we already know that there isn’t a point. We have nowhere to go, and escaping will be nearly impossible anyway. You and I both know that, man.”
Charlie glances down, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Um, I think I have a solution, though…? For the first one, I mean.”
At his words, Ranboo’s eyes sharpen with confusion, primarily, with a hint of interest buried in his expression. “What do you mean by that?”
“I remembered something!” he can’t help but blurt, before immediately glancing down. “So, um, if we can make it out… I think-“ He shakes his head and corrects himself. “No, I know we’ll have somewhere to go.”
Ranboo looks stunned, and unless Charlie is imagining it, they also look a little hopeful, too. “If we can make it out,” he echoed.
Okay, yeah, it might be a bit of a long shot, but he’s hoping that with the lack of security surrounding them, and the lack of a need to entertain some mysterious, omnipotent audience, freedom could be achievable. Besides, he and Ranboo had gotten so far with just the two of them. People said there was strength in numbers for a reason.
“It’s worth a try,” he murmurs, looking down at a spiderweb of cracks on a piece of old tile below him. “I mean, what are they gonna do? Kill us?”
“Probably, if they catch us,” Ranboo agrees. He doesn’t seem terrified by that. If anything, it’s the opposite, eyes crinkled at the edges to give the suggestion of a dry smile. It’s not like Charlie can see their mouth, so he can only guess what their mouth is doing. He gets to their feet, and Charlie does the same. “Well, we should probably tell the others.”
As if either of them would let themselves escape without everyone else with them.
Ranboo walks forward in the general direction of where the other five actors are, and Charlie follows him, the entire scene- no, situation, scene makes it seem like it’s just a show, and they’re not being filmed. There’s. no one watching them. Everything they’re doing is of their own free will. Anyway, the situation is reminiscent of the last time they tried to escape. At least this time they have a plan.
Or at the very least, some semblance of one.
— — —
If you were to ask any of them, the escape itself isn’t what was important. If you asked them what was considered important, the most common answers you would get were things along the lines of “the sun” or “fresh air” or “definite, undeniable freedom”, although that last one could be contested.
Given that the escape wasn’t particularly considered vital or important, it makes sense that none of them would be able to recall most of it. For them, it was just a blur of terror, desperation, and finally, at the end, vindication.
In the same vein, finding their way onto what Charlie called a server (The word was unfamiliar for all of them, even him. He didn’t know what it meant, only that it was what it was called.) was just as blurry, although each of them had moments that stuck out, every detail committed to memory.
Niki would probably say first entering the forest neighboring the lot of the abandoned mall just for the sake of distancing themselves from anyone who would try to go after them. Vinny would probably say finally getting to empty his pockets of all the worthless crap Showfall had stuck in there. Ethan would probably say when they stopped to drink by a river and the bit of water he had scooped out had a tadpole caught in it, and he got to feel it swim around in his hands. Austin’s answer at least slightly deviates from the norm, the memory of all the Showfall employees he had decked engraved on his knuckles for at least a few weeks.
Charlie would say the feeling buried deep in his mind that Showfall couldn’t erase, the feeling that said he was finally returning to some approximation of home, was what he remembered. Sneeg would say when he found a particularly sharp rock in the dirt. Ranboo would say when Sneeg used said rock to cut the wires from the mask that connected to the back of his head, finally allowing them to remove the stupid thing, although they kept it on regardless, finding that he felt more comfortable with it on, although they would definitely prefer to replace the stupid thing with a cloth one.
Most of them were sure that these memories would be the first ones that they got to keep. Austin and Ranboo were more hesitant, not entirely sure that the experience was nothing but another trick, and even now, cameras were still following them. However, even with that, an overwhelming feeling of relief, happiness, and maybe even excitement had consumed the whole group, and the smiles they wore were genuine as opposed to plastic ones forced onto their faces.
And when Charlie finally found his way back to some approximation of home, he was holding Ranboo and Sneeg’s hands so hard that the latter were worried they might fall off. Then again, they couldn’t talk, because they were doing the same to Ethan and Niki, who were doing the same to Austin and Vinny. They had all gone through the trouble of staying together, after all.
They certainly cared about each other, there was that, but there was more to it. None of them could remember anything, or in Charlie’s case, faces and names kept slipping his mind, like a fish on a hook just fighting to go back into the water. The one upside to getting presumably kidnapped and all of your memories wiped was that the other people who went through the same thing as you were, like, guaranteed friends.
For now, they were free. The question of “Now what?” could at least wait until any of them had some semblance of an answer.
— — —
Regardless of where they are, everyone, player and egg, feels the way the world twists around them, as if the very limits of what holds it together is being clawed apart by some desperate, half-starved animal.
Jaiden, at least, assumes that’s what’s going on, given the rapid pinging of the communicator she has in her pocket. If she left it on a table, it would practically be floating with how hard it was vibrating.
Then again, it’s a miracle she can even think that given the fact that a splitting headache is accompanying the feeling, as if whatever is happening is not trying to just tear the limits of the world, but tear her head open alongside it. Baghera is clutching her head with a matching grimace of pain, and Etoiles is doing the same, although trying to push through it so he can comfort Pomme, who is all but sobbing on the grass, clutching at her head and whimpering softly.
It was a coincidence that found her here. She had been chatting with the three for around ten, maybe fifteen minutes. Honestly, she would say that not counting Roier, Baghera was probably Jaiden’s closest friend at the moment.
Bobby used to be her best friend, her son, her everything. But he was dead. She couldn’t protect him. She can’t help but feel guilty looking at Pomme, as much as she loves the egg. Even if the life was given back, it’s just more blood on her hands.
If there was any positive to the head splitting pain, it was that she (hopefully!) couldn’t be blamed for it. More likely than not, when everyone meets up to talk about it, Cellbit or Bad or whoever will suddenly spew out some complex explanation involving the Federation that makes her head spin.
She’s not a fan of being out of the loop when it comes to the mysteries involving the Federation and the island as a whole, but she supposes it’s for the better. Jaiden’s already walking on a slippery slope when it comes to the Federation, and she wouldn’t doubt that trying to be just as nosy as most of the Brazilians will lead her to being kidnapped, just like Felps and Cellbit had been. And given the latter’s gory descriptions of what had happened to him during his time in captivity, she would prefer to avoid that.
If she died she could see Bobby again.
The pain stretches on for what feels like minutes on end, Pomme’s whimpering steadily growing louder, before it suddenly stops, the pain ebbing down to a dull ache so unnoticeable that it would probably fade into the background the moment she focused on anything else. Then again, the ache still lingering is a sign that whatever is wrong is still happening, it’s just… less wrong? Maybe? Hey, Jaiden never claimed she knew how to word.
Immediately, Baghera rushes over to Pomme’s side, whispering words of encouragement to her. “It’s okay, it’s over now, little bijou,” she says as she wraps the other in a hug. Jaiden has to turn away, grief and jealousy feeling so acidic in her stomach that she wouldn’t even be surprised if it had burned a hole in her chest, the edges still sizzling.
(Eggs on the server can take one of two forms. Form number one is, well, eggs, and form number two is a humanoid form that lets them look any way they choose. Pomme chose the latter today, blue and red face paint standing out against her dark, chocolate brown skin, dark brown curls framing both the paint and the entirety of her face, alongside the typical red butterfly wings she wears regardless of what form she chooses. Her typical beret has been traded out for a red one that looks like an apple, like her namesake, and she matches it with a blue shirt with short, ruffled sleeves, a white skirt and knee high socks, and black flats.
It's adorable, obviously, and it just makes Jaiden all the more envious. It should be her comforting Bobby, dressing Bobby, watching sunsets with Bobby. But Bobby died, and now all she can do is protect the other eggs with her life so no one else has to feel the same, soul rending grief that eats at her every day.)
Pomme doesn’t seem as shaken anymore, but she still clings to Baghera, the older woman picking her up and continuing to try and soothe her. Etoiles, meanwhile, turns to her, brow creased in confusion. He says something to her in French, and she blinks at him owlishly for a moment before digging out her translator, communicator falling onto the floor as she does so.
“Do you have any idea what that was?” it reads.
She shrugs as she bends down to pick up her fallen communicator, opening chat as she begins to reply to him. “No idea,” she sighs, scrolling through the wave of panicked messages. “And from what I can tell, no one else has any clue either.”
He scowls, kicking at the ground. “La connerie,” he mutters, and Jaiden knows even without checking her translator that it translates to something she probably shouldn’t say around Pomme.
“Roier has been complaining that the server’s been unstable recently,” she offers, although she doesn’t mention that he had mentioned it started around the time the French crash landed, and she in turn jokingly blaming it on them. “Maybe this was just, like, a lag spike or something?” She knows it’s wrong as she says it, because they all know what lag spikes feel like. They’re more of an annoyance than anything, and definitely not painful.
Given that, she isn’t surprised when Etoiles shakes his head and turns toward Baghera and Pomme. “Vous deux allez bien?” he calls to them. “Are you two alright?” reads her translator.
Baghera nods. Pomme shrugs, a hand reaching up to wipe the tear tracks off her face with the hem of her shirt.
Jaiden glances down at her rapidly pinging communicator, the flood of messages continuing, and she can’t help but let out a sound or surprise when she sees Phil’s messages and the resulting replies.
Ph1LzA: I don’t think anyone saw it in the middle of all of that but Slime logged on around it starting
iRoier: qué????
Frowning, she opens the keyboard and types a response.
Jaidenhere: i don’t think he caused it!!! probably just bad timing lol
Then again, she knows all about bad timing, doesn’t she?
Badboyhalo: He hasn’t been on in like, a month or more, maybe the server just didn’t agree with him coming back after so long
FitMc: Idk about that because Missa and Luzu were gone for just as long, if not longer, but it didn’t happen with them
Badboyhalo: Well I don’t see anyone else coming up with explanations!!!!
She can’t help her frown turning into a scowl as she pockets her communicator, feeling offended on Charlie’s behalf. After all, she knows all about being blamed for things that weren’t her fault, and she didn’t want to see the same thing happen to someone who she considered a friend, someone who had gone through the same thing as her, if not worse.
But, still… Charlie’s back. The same man who went through the death of a child, and had coped much worse with it. Okay, listen, Jaiden wouldn’t say her own coping mechanisms were the best, but at least she hadn't tried to kill all of the children!
Not that she blamed him for that. Honestly, a part of her understood in a way that she hadn’t understood when Bobby was still alive.
She would do anything to bring her son back. Anything.
She glances toward the other three, two of which are still talking in hushed French, and the other is writing down on red signs to follow the conversation. She waits for a moment until it pauses, and then she approaches. “I think I’m gonna head toward spawn,” she says. “I think there’ll be people there, and they might have some kinda explanation.” She finishes with an off handed shrug.
Baghera straightens, turning toward Jaiden. “Oh, okay. I will come with you, I think.” She turns to the egg still in her arms. “Pomme, do you want to come?” The girl nods empathetically in response.
Etoiles shrugs. “Okay. I will come too, then.”
“Alright! I’ll warp over there, but you guys can do whatever. Talk to you all later!” She grabs her warp totem from her inventory and activates it so it’ll warp her to spawn. Even though she’s gotten used to the feeling of warping around everywhere, this time feels even more disorienting than usual, and she has to stop to catch her breath the moment it’s over, the dull ache in her head morphing into a sudden, sharp pain for just a moment, before fading back into the background.
Seeing the loud crowd of people, she suddenly regrets not keeping up with the messages on her communicator, which is still rapidly vibrating in her pocket, signaling a flood of messages. She had just assumed it had been them blaming Charlie for something that wasn’t even his fault, but evidently, there was more to it.
Because there was a crowd of unfamiliar people right in the middle of spawn, surrounded by confused players and eggs. Loud English, Spanish, and even louder Portuguese were being thrown around, and Jaiden knew without having to dig out her translator that they were all demanding some kind of explanation to an increasingly overwhelmed Charlie, the people behind looking some mix of wary and exhausted, a hint of desperation peaking through.
It would be a miracle if she could get them to quiet down, but the least she could do was try. “Guys!” she called, her voice getting lost amongst the yelling. “Guys, what’s happening?!”
Phil, who was at the edge of the crowd, must’ve heard her, because he gestured for her to come over. Once she was next to him, he spoke. “It’s been like this since I pointed out Charlie joined,” he muttered, a slightly guilty grimace on his face. “I almost feel bad about it, but at the same time, he has six strangers with him, and…” He didn’t finish, cutting himself off with a shrug.
“Charlie’s been gone for a while, right?” she asked, standing on the tips of her toes so she could try to make out his expression. “Do you think something happened?”
“Dunno. It would be easier to ask if all these people decided to quiet down, but you know how they are.”
She just nodded, remembering with a grimace the mess that was rescuing the Brazilians, and the even bigger mess that was rescuing the French. At least it was less crowded this time around. If she was counting right, there were twelve people, counting her and Phil and not counting the eggs running around underfoot. Then again, it was so loud it felt like there were double the people.
Quackity was yelling at everyone to shut up, and miraculously, it seemed to work, save for a few loud, scattered exclamations. “Okay,” he said, clapping his hands, the sound creating a large crackle of sound in the area. “Okay, okay, okay. So, um, number one, Charlie, dude, what the fuck?” As he spoke, he gestured almost frantically to the six people that stood behind him, although it was more like he stood in front of them, protecting them from the curious and searching stares of the surrounding crowd.
(There was a hint of vulnerability buried in Charlie’s expression, barely parseable beneath the stone wall he was trying so hard to be. Jaiden saw right through it, though, because she saw the same expression every time she glanced at her reflection.)
Charlie opens his mouth to respond, maybe, but Quackity cuts him off, his questions turning into half-hysterical babbling. “I mean, really, no one sees you for, like, what, two months, three months? You drop off the face of the island, and all of the sudden you come back with, like, an army of people, and-“
“Let him speak, Quackity,” Jaiden huffs, pushing her way to the front of the crowd just to elbow him and shoot him a scolding expression. She turns to offer Charlie a smile, remembering the last time they spoke; it had been a long, long while ago, after the trial had ended. He had been a mess, and she had comforted him, sympathetic to his plight. But in the Charlie she sees in front of her, she doesn’t see any warmth, or even familiarity in his gaze. Just an expression reminiscent of a deer in headlights, or maybe someone given a microphone and told to do a speech.
What exactly had happened to Charlie was a mystery, but she can’t help but feel a massive pit open in her stomach and threaten to swallow her whole at the notion that he doesn’t even recognize her at all. She had comforted him, fought with him, even got his daughter back, and that gets her… what? Just a wide eyed, uncomfortable stare?
They stare at each other for a few seconds longer than they probably should, but the spell is broken by a person with a scratched metal mask with turned off lights, dents and a hole in it near the mouth, uneven wires trailing from the edges like someone had crudely cut them. He has other distinctive features, too, like the red letterman jacket and jeans, both of which are practically coated in dried blood, as well as the fluffy brown hair, but the mask is their most noticeable aspect. He elbows Charlie, clearing their throat, and the other startles, as if broken from a trance.
“Um,” he begins. He doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes as he speaks, staring down at the grass and occasionally glancing back at the people behind him. As he speaks, his voice becomes slightly more goofy, and his eyes glaze over completely, as if he isn’t truly there. “That’s, um, a long story? Like, very long, so very long, like, wow, longer than a football field-“
The man in orange elbows him harshly. “You’re doing it again,” he says flatly. The phrase is vague and innocuous, but at his words, Charlie stiffens, eyes glazing over somewhat as his arms begin to raise to grip his head, but the gesture stops halfway through, so instead they just hang uselessly in the air.
A ghost of a smile creeps onto Charlie’s face, but it’s gone just as quickly. “Thanks,” he mutters, and his hands fall back to his sides. He turns back to the crowd. “So, like, I got kidnapped? Maybe? Probably?” Every word he speaks is matched with a weary and uncertain expression, eyes continuing to dart frantically. Every so often, they settle on someone, and his expression falls completely, becoming a mix of confusion, grief, and despair.
Obviously, his words cause a wave of murmurs, confusion evident in everyone’s voice. They steadily grow louder and louder, Charlie becoming more and more overwhelmed, until Phil’s voice cuts through. “Guys, come on, let him speak.”
The look Charlie gives him is the same one he had given Jaiden; like he was looking at a stranger. Regardless, there’s gratitude within his eyes all the same, before it's swallowed up and replaced by steely nothing. He takes in a shaky breath. “So, yeah, they fucked with my mind and memories and shit a lot? And I can’t really remember anything? Oh, and, um, these other people were also kidnapped with me, but, uh, we escaped! So… yay? Yeah.”
Surprisingly, the crowd actually managed to stay quiet, save for hushed murmurs exchanged to each other. Jaiden couldn’t hear any of them clearly, save for Quackity’s confused whisper of “What the fuck?”, his eyebrows knitted together.
“So, yeah, like, sorry, I guess, in advance, if I have no fucking clue what any of your deals are.” he murmured, glancing back toward the six people behind him. The man in purple shot him a thumbs up, while the man in green made a “so-so” motion with his hand and shrugged.
Cellbit stepped forward, Roier’s head poking forward slightly behind him in curiosity. “You were kidnapped?” he asks, his blonde-white strand of hair moving slightly as he speaks. “By who?” There’s a wariness in his body, shoulders drawn tight and stiff, and Jaiden knows he’s thinking about his time when he and Felps had been kidnapped by the Federation.
Charlie looks startled by the question, eyes turning directly to level on Cellbit. “Um,” he says, and he turns fully back to the other six, all of which throw some whispers at him. Jaiden is closest to the man in blue, black, and white, who’s whisper is something along the lines of “Who gives a shit?”, which prompts another round of whispers, ending with the girl in red leaning forward and patting him on the back before turning him back to the crowd.
“Entertainment company,” he replies to Cellbit, shrugging. “Um, they wanted us to be actors, or some shit? I don’t really- ‘cause I was- yeah. Kidnapped. It was fucked. Lots of mind control. Awful.”
In response, Cellbit leans back, a mixed expression crossing his face. Most prevalent is relief, because no one had to go through what he had. But then he looks over the seven people, and his brow creases with a mix of curiosity and concern.
Quickly, Quackity walks forward and stands in front of Charlie, going into his whole “technically this server was named after me so I have to maintain some semblance of control over it” mode, and it’s obvious what he’s doing because of how he acts the rest of the time. He spreads his hands authoritatively. “Alright, well, since we have some new people staying on the island,” he begins, and the people who are familiar with the words let out a groan, Jaiden not included, because introductions are always fun. She gets to add a new nationality to her introduction every time! Although she’s pretty sure these people are English speakers, so she won’t get to do that this time. “Hey, hey, stop groaning, come on! Anyway, it’s time for introductions, come on, chop chop, let’s go.” To enunciate his point, he claps his hands three times in a row.
“Oh my God,” Foolish groans. “We do this every time new people show up. Can’t they just introduce themselves and get it over with? Why do we have to keep going up there?”
The other man starts pinching the bridge of his nose, a very pissed off expression on his face. “Just once, can you all just follow the plan?” he huffs. “Like, oh my God, there is just so much going on right now, and all of this was absolutely not meant to happen, by the way, and I am just trying to keep everything normal, and Foolish, if you keep bitching and moaning I might actually strangle you and make your stupid boyfriend deal with the body!”
Quackity definitely meant for that to be intimidating, but the most reaction he got out of the other players was an eye roll. Actually, scrap that, the most reaction he got was Baghera muttering “Wait, he has a boyfriend?”
“Well, I mean, okay,” Bad began, before cutting himself off with a hiss of “Dapper, come back over-” His egg settled next to him, in the same humanoid form as Pomme, skin a washed out brown and hair a deep, dark black underneath his tophat. “Okay, so, should they go first, or-?”
“Should they go-? Yes, Bad, they should go first. Obviously.” Quackity huffs, looking so irritated it was practically murderous. The silence went on for a few seconds too long to the point where it became awkward, and he turned back to the group as he ran a hand through his hair, or the parts that weren’t covered by the beanie, anyway. “Jesus Christ, well, someone has to go first. Throw someone to the wolves if no one volunteers, I don’t know. But I have things to do, so let’s hurry it up.”
Jaiden snorted. “Yeah? Things? Like what? Plan your wedding just so you can show up Cellbit and Roier? During Pride Month?”
“For the last time, I am not homophobic, I just hate those two specifically. Wait, no, what I meant was-”
“Oh, so you hate Spanish people now?”
“Woah woah woah-”
“Um,” says the man in purple, who seems to have been collectively volunteered by the other six to introduce himself first. At once, all eyes turn to him, and Jaiden can’t help but feel a little bad about all the pressure that’s being put on him. But he doesn’t seem to be affected by it, as if he’s used to having a large number of eyes on him. “So, hi, I guess. I’m Ethan. Um, Ethan Nestor…”
Ethan was a young man with straw, messy blonde hair sticking out in all directions, and cracked glasses. He wore purple everywhere, a light purple bomber jacket and a darker purple for his cargo pants. Now that Jaiden thought about it, they were all kind of color coded, weren’t they? His outfit was stained with dried blood in the back, barely noticeable unless he turned around. “Yeah, so, um, I’m very- you should- no, wait.” His face twisted with confusion, and Charlie leaned forward.
“Introduction, remember?” he hissed, elbowing him. Elbowing seemed like a common theme with this group.
His eyes widened, and he nodded, slapping his cheeks with the palms of his hands. “Right! Right. Yeah, so, um, I’m Ethan, and I don’t remember much other than that but- oh! I like fish and stuff, I think…? Or, no, probably not. That doesn’t seem-” He shakes his head, a grimace starting to form, and he turns around, giving the crowd a full view of the rips and tears in the back of his jacket, accompanied by dried blood, both on the shirt and skin below it, and the back of the jacket absolutely coated in it to the point that the jacket almost appeared more reddish-brown than purple. “Your turn,” he hisses, grabbing the man in orange’s wrist and shoving him forward.
Compared to Ethan, the next man seems much more put together, no obvious injuries on him save for his bruised knuckles. Although he seems to have struggle to keep his composure, eyes going wide and hands hesitantly brought up halfway to his chest at the expectant stares of the players surrounding him. “Austin Show,” he says, voice gruff. “I have a w- no, no, that’s not, that’s not-!” He seems to be getting distressed, and he cuts himself off and takes a breath. “Austin. I don’t remember anything, but I am sick and tired of being fucked with.”
Austin’s color seems to be orange, as he wears orange joggers and a white t-shirt, same as… nearly all of the other people, the color he wears being one of his few distinctive features. There’s hints of bloodstains on his shirt, maybe, and his arms have some small bruises, but other than that, there’s no evidence of an injury on him, which is kind of a relief. He has tanner skin compared to the other six, and his hair is a dark brown, curling up behind his head.
He pauses for a moment, eyes glazing, before he continues. “So… yeah. Just don’t drag me away and get me crushed by a wall-“ The man in the mask flinches, and Jaiden imagines he would be grimacing if his mouth was visible. He glances toward the man in blue, who has his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and is looking away. “-or, like, leave rotting corpses near me-“ This time, Charlie flinches, arms shooting up to wrap protectively around his stomach. “-and we’ll be fine.”
Austin turns around, thankfully not revealing any new injuries as he gestures for someone else to come forward. The other five stare at the man in blue expectantly, and he rolls his eyes and steps forward, giving them a dirty look. “So. Hi. I’m Sneeg. Well, I don’t think that’s my actual, name, because, like, could you fucking imagine? But it’s what they called me and all I remember, so, like…” He shrugged.
Sneeg wasn’t as thin as Ethan and Austin had been. Another way he stood out was the colors he wore, with blue, white, and black as opposed to sticking to just one color. He wears a hat that are those colors, or, well, Jaiden’s pretty sure, at least, because the thing is absolutely coated in dried blood, the stains making it appear as if it had dripped down the sides of the hat and onto his face and back, and she shuddered at the thought. Coming out from his hat was fluffy brown hair going in all directions. His hoodie is the same colors, although it had gray in places instead of black. A massive hole is torn in the side of it, revealing bare, scarred skin, a river of dried blood covering the area where his right arm rests. What, did he get mauled by some sort of animal? Somehow, Jaiden thinks she doesn’t want an answer to that question.
“Um, I think that’s about it, but-“ He cuts himself off as his eyes widen, readjusting the bloodstained hat on his head. “Oh, right, um. Don’t touch my hat. Please.” His hands tighten against the brim of the hat for a moment, a dark expression crossing his face, before he turns around. “Niki, you’re up! Try not to cry again. Or do, I don’t care.”
The only girl of the group walks forward, rolling her eyes as she elbows him sharply in the stomach. “You’re such an ass,” she mutters, but there’s a grin on the tips of her lips. She stops once she’s in front of the six, and she’s frozen for a few awkward seconds, face going through a variety of expressions in that time, before she straightens, eyes glazing over completely, staring past the crowd at something far in the distance, presumably. A plastic smile crawls onto her face, as if it had been painted onto her face and she was just a doll to be played with. (If Jaiden was to be honest, she was really not a fan of that particular metaphor.) “Hi! I’m Niki Nihachu, and I am really nice!”
Niki is wearing predominantly red, with a red blazer and matching red pants, as well as a white tshirt under the blazer. Her hair is straight and falls down just past her shoulders, half brown and half blonde. She might’ve worn mascara at one point, but it’s been entirely washed out by tear tracks, both sets of them rimmed with black. Her hair is slightly sticking up at the top, as if the wind had blown it out of shape, or maybe she had been wearing a hat and removed it harshly.
At Niki’s words, the people behind her stiffen, Sneeg reaching out to her and Austin swearing under his breath. Charlie turns over to the person in the mask, eyes wide. “Should we-?” he whispers frantically.
His brows crease in thought before they shake his head, glancing over to read her expression. “Nah,” they reply. “I think she’s got it.”
Jaiden doesn’t know what they’re talking about, so she turns her attention back to Niki, who’s expression suddenly shifts, to a brief flash of horror to impassiveness, and she takes in a breath. “That was- sorry. But… yeah. I’m Niki, and I’m not- never mind.” She stares at her lap for a while, hands curled around her pants and trembling slightly.
She whirls around to go back behind Charlie, and in doing so she fully reveals her back to the crowd. There’s small holes in the back of her blazer, one toward the bottom of her spine, and the other toward the top. They’re only noticeable because of the white peaking through, and even then the whole goes through the white as well, leading to scarred flesh below it. Due to the color of her costume, the dried blood surrounding both of the holes were barely noticeable, and it took Jaiden a few seconds to spot it, her breath hitching when she did.
Her mind didn’t make the connection until she spotted the bloodstains but those holes… reminded Jaiden of bullet holes.
Ethan leans in slightly, wide eyed. “What was-“
“Shut up, Ethan.” Niki snaps, closing her eyes. “Vinny, it’s your turn, you know.”
The man in green was the second to last one to go, and he startled at Niki’s words before getting shoved forward by Sneeg. He gives the crowd an awkward wave. “Um. Hi. I’m Vinny. Vinny Vinesauce, I think.”
Vinny wore a green track jacket with white stripes going down the sleeves, a denim bucket hat that he often reached up to remove, before hesitating and settling his hands back at his sides. He also wore jeans the same color as the hat. He had a beard and short brown hair poking out from beneath the bucket hat. He also had nasty burns all over his body, his clothes burnt and singed and having holes in them revealing more burnt skin. The skin grafts all over his body were obvious, a paler shade than his skin.
Jaiden created a pattern for herself that she finds she dislikes. Every person has some distinct injury or bloodstain on them. Even Charlie, with the way he protectively hugs his chest occasionally with a desperate look in his eyes, and the fact that the bottom half of his shirt and his jeans were ragged and torn by… something, maybe the same thing Sneeg had gotten mauled by. There were also some bloodstains on him, noticeable, sure, but nothing compared to the bloody mess that was Sneeg and the man in the mask. The scratches on Charlie didn’t look like claw marks, exactly, and she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what the scratches reminded her of.
“I don’t remember much about myself, which, yeah, I know, join the club, right? I guess I have a hoarding habit, but that’s not really me, it’s more… Never mind. Um, nice to meet everyone.” Vinny ends his introduction the same way he started: with an awkward wave. Quickly, he disappears behind the last person to introduce themself; it makes sense, considering he’s the tallest of the group. Jaiden would guess somewhere around 6’5?
They seem to be the sort of leader of the group, maybe. She wasn’t entirely sure. But she remembers the way Charlie looked back at him during Niki’s introduction, and she thinks there was trust in there, maybe, but a mix of wariness, too. (Everytime Charlie glances over at them, his hands wrap around his chest, almost unconsciously. Jaiden is as curious as she allows herself to be, and nothing more.)
He steps forward fully to stand next to Charlie, and the man shoots them a nervous look and steps back. He doesn’t seem bothered by… anything, honestly. The attention, the anxious behavior of their friends, the metal mask on his face being one gust of wind away from blowing off completely… they just seem like he’s able to roll with any sort of punch.
“I’m Ranboo,” they say stiffly, arms laying flat at his sides. “I was… the hero of the show, I guess.” They stare at the ground for a few seconds, and it feels like every single emotion in existence passes across his face during that time.
Ranboo looks younger than everyone else, physically, save for their height, but there’s a haunted, faraway look in his eyes, giving the impression of someone who grew up far, far too fast. It’s kind of scary, and it reminds her of Roier after they lost Bobby, maybe, or the look she saw cross Juanaflippa’s face a few times back when she was still alive.
“Wait, were we supposed to say what our roles in the show were?” Vinny asks.
Sneeg snorts in reply. “There’s only so many ways you can say “side character” and “death fodder”, you know.” he says, a dark, bitter expression creeping onto his face.
Charlie lets out an indignant huff. “Sneeg!”
“It’s not as if he’s wrong,” Austin mutters. Niki nods and Ethan grimaces, but no one denies it.
Jaiden can’t help but wonder where all the blood on them comes from. It can’t be theirs, surely. No one would be standing after losing that much blood, especially Ranboo and Sneeg, who are practically drenched in it.
An awkward silence hangs over them all for a few moments, before Quackity steps forward, clearing his throat. “Um, okay, right. We can all introduce ourselves, and since Foolish was whining so much about it, try to be quick.”
The man in question grumbles at being called out, and Leo sticks out her tongue at Quackity, who makes the same expression right back.
Everyone sticks to the same format as usual for their introductions, although since they have the eggs with them, they end up being part of it. The other six seem confused by them, but Charlie doesn’t wear that expression where it seems as if he’s grasping for a memory and comes up short. Maybe it’s because of Juanaflippa, or the memory of the time he tried to blow up the eggs was so strong it managed to stick around past any sort of mind control that happened to him.
Jaiden gets to make her nationalities joke in her introduction, which always gets some laughs. Unsurprisingly, the new group is confused, save for Charlie, who wears the ghost of a smile for a brief moment, before mouthing “why am I smiling?” to himself, brow creased.
After everything is finished up, Quackity claps his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Right! So that’s everything sorted. Charlie, I would say you know where your house is, but you quite literally do not. I would also say sucks to suck, but Phil would quite literally kill me.”
“It’s true, I would,” the blonde agrees. “Here, Charlie, I’ll show you the way up.” Then he pauses, taking in the group as a whole. “Oh, do you guys wanna come with, or…?”
They regard each other in silence for a minute. Austin is the one to speak first. “I’ve already been locked up with these people for an obnoxiously long amount of time, so I’d prefer to go out on my own, if that’s an option,” he says, shrugging.
Most people would be offended by the jab, but they all just snicker. “Yeah?” Ethan says. “Hey Austin, how long were we locked up together?”
“I don’t know, there weren’t clocks or windows-“
“Yeah, yeah, hey Austin,” Ranboo says, trying to stifle laughter. The way their eyes crinkle up is a new look on him, but Jaiden likes it. Or maybe she just likes seeing people happy in general. “What are the names of your kids again?”
His eyes glaze over slightly, and he opens his mouth to respond, before freezing, blinking rapidly to recenter himself. “That’s not funny, you asshole,” he grumbles, shoving Ranboo, but the edges of his lips are twitching.
“So you’re all gonna go out on your own, then?” Phil asked, trying to get the group back on track. By this time, most of the surrounding road had dissipated, save for Roier and Cellbit, holding each other close as they spoke in hushed Spanish. Jaiden was still hovering in case they needed her, but she doubted they did. She supposed she just wanted a reason to stick around.
Austin shrugged, stepping back slightly. “I probably will,” he muttered. “Just so I can be alone if nothing else.”
“Try not to get mauled by a wild animal,” Sneeg drawled, voice flat and dry.
“Take your own advice. What did you get killed by the first time, the sharklester?”
“Hey, don’t make fun of my baby!” Charlie cried, voice suddenly taking on an odd accent.
Jaiden figured this would be a good time to step in. “If any of you need somewhere to stay, I have some free rooms in my house!”
Niki turned to her, pausing for a few seconds. “You’re… Jaiden, yes?” she asked. Jaiden hadn’t realized it earlier, but the girl had a bit of an accent, although she couldn’t place it. In response, she shot Niki a thumbs up. “That’s very nice of you, but I’d… prefer to look around before I decide where to stay, I suppose.”
“That’s fine!” She turned to face the rest of them. “That goes for everyone too, by the way. Trust me, I… definitely have the room.” She couldn’t help but wilt a little bit. Even when she was trying to be cheerful, the memory of Bobby haunted her like an incessant phantom.
They gave her slightly odd looks, which she might’ve deserved because of the way she inserted herself into the conversation like that. But she couldn’t help but feel like she needed… something. She didn’t have Bobby anymore, after all. She had Roier, but it wasn’t like he was sticking around, because he had Cellbit, and Foolish, and Vegetta. No one needed her anymore. So… she could change that, maybe.
“Oh! Right, I’ll probably be sticking around my house for a while, so if anyone wants to stop by, here’re my coords!” Jaiden said, scrawling down the coordinates on a piece of scrap paper she had lying around in her pockets. Niki gingerly grabbed it, squinting at it and shrugging as she folded it neatly and tossed it in her pocket.
Phil leaned forward and gently grabbed Charlie’s arm, saying something quiet to him, and he straightened, gesturing for the other six to follow him. As they began to walk off, Jaiden called out to them “N-Nice meeting you all!”, but they didn’t react to her words at all, each of them locked in their own conversation with others in the group.
Suddenly, she’s alone at spawn, Roier and Cellbit having left sometime while she was talking with them. Jaiden finds the sudden solidarity is agonizing, and it just illustrates the hole left in her heart all the more. She misses Bobby so much. She feels that when he died, most of her died along with him, only leaving behind a hollowed out shell.
Jaiden is brought out of her thoughts when she glances down at the clock attached to her pants by a chain. With a start, she realizes the sun is close to setting, and she quickly scrambles to get the best view of it she can.
The entire world feels as though it’s silent as she stares at the painted sky, and her curiosity about the new people on the server and even her grief about Bobby is soothed, even for just a brief moment.
But then, the sunset ends, and everything rushes back into her, even that ache from earlier. She takes in a shaky breath as she staggers to her feet.
She hopes someone takes up her offer of bunking with her. Maybe then, she could watch the sunset with them, cling to the memory of Bobby, and just feel a little less alone.