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First time it happens, Frye nearly throws herself into a panic.
They’re playing some racing game together on their crummy couch in their crummy apartment. They don't have work tomorrow or the next, so they’re spending their time reasonably— well, as reasonable as Crazy Taxi is gonna get. Big Man is out grocery shopping for dinner, and when he gets back, they’ll all watch a movie together.
Shiver wins and they boast in triumph. Frye lunges towards her and locks her in an affectionate headlock. Shiver tried squirming out of it, and they launched into a bout of playfighting. It’s strange, but they’ve always done it; it’s like their own way of showing affection.
Sometime during it, Shiver tries putting her arms around Frye’s neck and Frye flips them into their back to escape. Frye sits up, throwing her arms out triumphantly and declaring herself the winner of their impromptu bout.
Though, Shiver doesn’t react.
Well, she kinda doesn’t move at all.
“Shiver?” Frye says, leaning forward, almost atop of the octoling, and flicks their forehead. They don’t move. Frye laughs mockingly. “Haha, you got me, Shiver, very funny. Now get up, I wanna rematch!”
Frye resumes her sitting position on the couch, grabbing her controller. However, Shiver doesn’t sit up with her.
“Shiv?” Frye says. She laughs nervously, because yknow, what the hell. “The bits over, you won. You can get up now.”
Shiver doesn’t get up.
Okay, now Frye’s the tiniest, most smallest bit concerned. She places the controller down, crawls over to Shiver’s side, and shakes them.
“Shiver? Hey, Shiver, wake up. What’re doing? Wake up!” Frye asks. She’s all worries now, because they aren’t stirring despite the movement. “Shiver?”
Ah, okay. Okay. This is… fine. This is completely fine and normal and okay. She’ll just shake her some more, they’ll wake and they’ll go about their day but why isn’t she waking up?
“Shiver! Shiver!” Frye’s voice is raising an octave with each call of their name, shaking Shiver’s shoulders excessively and is she dead? Did she just kill Shiver? Oh cod, she killed Shiver.
She swears, her hand is reaching towards her phone— to call who? Big Man? But what could he do? An ambulance would’ve been a better choice, but Frye isn’t really in a decision-making state currently— when Shiver moves.
They rouse from their unconsciousness, eyes cracked open as they sit up. She yawns, scratching her arm, and says, “Hey, what’s up?”
What.
Frye blinks stupidly, because she can’t believe this octoling. “Whadda mean “hey, what’s up”— you just passed out! Are you?? okay?!”
“Oh? Yeah, I’m cool.” Shiver says casually, as if she weren’t unconscious mere seconds ago. “That happens sometimes.”
What?
“What?” Frye says. She suddenly isn’t feeling very eloquent today.
“It’s nothing. Wanna play some more?” Shiver asks, reaching for both controllers, handing Frye hers. She doesn’t look perturbed by her loss of consciousness, like at all. It’s like a normal Tuesday for her or something.
Frye doesn’t really have words, so she just grabs her controller and they rematch the round.
Frye never noticed how sharp Shiver’s teeth were.
Inklings and Octolings all had sharp beaks, it’s just a biological fact. But unlike regular cephalopods, who typically have three sharp canines, Shiver’s beak consists of two rows of sharpened teeth all around. It’s strange, and Shiver never comments on the fact. It’s apparent, too. Whenever they smile— a truly wide one— they glint and shine, and it looks a little devious.
Another thing Frye realizes is that she has an immune system made of obsidian. How’d she find out? Well, it’s because Frye came home to Shiver eating fish one day.
It would’ve been a normal activity— just having some lunch, yes? But no. Nothing can ever be normal for Deep Cut.
Frye walks in, greeting her partner with a wide smile before stopping dead in her tracks, because Shiver is currently eating an entire whole raw fish.
They’re eating it as they’d do a sandwich, just casually munching away as they scroll through their phone. She senses Frye’s presence, and smiles, her sharp teeth glinting. “Hey, how was the recording session?”
Frye doesn’t respond because she’s processing the entire sight before her. They’re eating a raw fish, in their shark-print briefs and Jaws t-shirt, and casually talking as if she weren’t doing that. “Wha?…” she unconsciously mutters, feeling like she’s losing her sanity.
“Oh! Sorry, did you— did you want, some?” Shiver asks, extending the fish towards her in an offering. Frye stares at it, “It’s seabass.” They add, like that’ll help.
“Why’re you eating a whole fish?” Is the most appropriate question Frye could’ve thought of.
Shiver shrugs, taking another bite. “I felt homesick.”
“What— What does the fish have to do with it?” Frye asks, and Shiver only looks at her, smiling, before continuing to scroll through her phone, as if they didn’t just give the most ominous answer ever.
Frye decides to just leave it at that. Why disturb someone eating their lunch? Even if it’s an odd one. It looks like their beak was destined to tear into a fish, anyways.
If Frye didn’t know any better, she’d believe those were the jaws of a shark.
Shiver sleeps strangely.
Frye likes to bunk with Shiver at night. It’s surprisingly comfortable, despite the small circumference. It’s decorated with little sparkling lights and band posters and shark plushies literally everywhere. It’s so… Shiver, and it makes her unbearably happy. Sure, all three Deep Cut members have their own rooms, but Frye will take any chance to snuggle up beside her partner.
Though, Shiver’s sleeping position makes that a tad bit difficult.
They sleep like they haven’t slept before, if that makes sense. They’ll both go to bed wrapped in each other's arms, but by the time Frye wakes up in the morning, Shiver is laying with her legs flat against the wall, hands folded on their chest.
That wasn’t even the worst one yet.
Sometimes, she’ll somehow maneuver her leg around Frye’s waist yet somehow still lay perfectly flat on the bed. Or, they’ll manage to entangle themselves in the blankets and sleep in the tightest ball imaginable. Or somehow, she’s just laying across Frye entirely, almost sliding off the bed,
This morning, Frye cracks open her eyes, finding Shiver halfway on the floor, leaning against the bed with their head in her folded arms. They’re fast asleep, looking quite comfortable, actually. They always wake up refreshed, despite the odd positions they sleep in.
Shiver wakes up almost immediately, smiling gently, “Good morning.”
That’s another thing Frye noticed. Shiver wakes up easily. The smallest sound or movement has her wide-awake. At first, Frye thought that perhaps it was an emotional response, but she theorizes that Shiver never actually sleeps.
Well, she does, but in a purely scientific sense, they never truly enter REM sleep. They always seem to be just drifting off, remaining somewhat conscious. They’re always napping throughout the day, too, even if they’ve gotten a night's rest. It’s weird. Shiver never really explained anything whenever someone inquired about these oddities, always remaining ominous in her answering. Perhaps it’s something that goes unexplained by Shiver, or maybe it’s just one of her quirks.
Maybe she’ll just never know.
Frye pats the octoling’s head. “Mornin’.”
“Did I ever tell you I was raised by sharks?”
The question snaps Frye from thinking up lyrics. They’re both sitting at their living room table. Frye looks at them like she just killed someone.
“ What?”
“I was raised by sharks.” Shiver says nonchalantly, not even looking up from the notebook she was scribbling in. “My parents were always busy with whatever, so the sharks took me in.”
“Why’re you telling me this now?”
Shiver ponders for a second. “Hmm. Never seemed important.” She decides. “Plus I thought it was funny.”
Frye sputters incomprehensibly, hands gesturing wildly. Shiver’s focus is back on her studies, as if they didn’t just drop the biggest bomb on her. Frye doesn’t really know what to say; she is quite possibly shellshocked, flabbergasted even, though one particular thought cuts through the confused haze overtaking her mind.
“Oh. Makes sense.”