Chapter Text
Mollusk Opistho
Octoling
27
Head researcher in sanitization and robotics
One of Tartar’s favorites
It was 6:20 sharp and mollusk had awoke to their obnoxiously loud alarm, it made them want to scream, but they really didn't want to have to deal with upset roommates, especially because they all have a generalized annoyance due to mollusk’s poor sleep schedule
After properly waking up, they climb out of the cave of a bottom bunk they’ve created
Now, Mollusk here has a set schedule, of course they're only inkfish, so sometimes they get a bit behind or ahead
6:28
They then were brushing their beak while picking out an outfit, this usually doesn't take long—it’s only a struggle trying to share four sinks and four mirrors among ten bunkmates
Mollusk picks out a black turtleneck, white pants, and some sneakers, they’ll grab their coat on the way out
6:32
Now they’re fully dressed and only have to pack their bag, again not to much of a struggle because their cave bunk situation has an outlet which they use to charge their computer
6:40
Looks like they were ahead of schedule a bit this time so now they have some extra time to themselves
Mollusk often like to spend their free time doodling, studying, and, as they call it, “brainstorming,” which by this they mean daydreaming. One of their current things to daydream about is quite scandalous, but not surprising. For the past couple of weeks, the only thing poor Mollusk would be able to think about is their commander, and how endearing, charming, and they are, oh, how they longed for even just a nod of approval.
Of course, Mollusk takes this as them being a romantic fanatic and being quite the bizarre individual, considering the fact that if you think about it really hard—comically so
You could technically argue that Mollusk could be considered a creator of sorts due to the fact that they had worked on his body many times before.
And yet they constantly think about the many times they've come in contact with Tartar's body.
Their cold, artificial, robotic body.