The Suckling

Freak the Funk Out

Marina's cacophonous scream was like the sonic shriek of a killer wail amped all the way up to eleven. It could be felt reverberating throughout everyone's elastic limbs, wiggling their forms with minute vibrations.

So raucous and irrationally hysterical was it that everyone within earshot quickly slammed their hands over their ears, physically wincing as the muffled screech pounded at their heads. After what felt like an eternity, Marina finally calmed down, eliciting a sigh of relief from everyone as they let their hands down, though she remained no less distressed about Shiver and Tres's predicament, curious as it was.

Marina was flush with a bright turquoise hue, her natural coloration becoming even more saturated and luminous than usual. It was even pulsing sporadically with a dull glow. Her wide-eyed, horror-filled expression spoke volumes of her current emotional state as she slowly raised a shaky finger up to Shiver, attempting to speak between rapid sputtering breaths but found it difficult to form the words, let alone a coherent sentence.

"S-Shiver!" She rasped, voice raised several octaves. Then, from seemingly out of nowhere, she broke out in her native octarian tongue; a harsh sounding language with a great emphasis on hard consonants and trill undulations between syllables. "Ymg' quaf tn'Ta! Ymg' quaf tn'Ta! (Your tentacle! Your tentacle!)"

"Huh? My tentac- Huack?!" Shiver muttered bemusingly before choking on her own spit, she felt her voice die in her throat as her eyes wandered over to the intimate connection formed between her and Tres. There it was, exposed for all to see, her tentacle stretched over and clinging to the back of Tres's neck as it wriggled and writhed enthusiastically in contact with his skin.

A deathly chill ran up her back, the color drained from her face leaving her even paler than normal. Her pupils shrank to pinpricks and her hearts began to beat wildly with her chest. She could feel a panic attack come on.

"Wait, wha- Ha! Oh, ho, ho!" Tres yelped, finally registering Shiver's tentacle rubbing up against his neck, squelching and squirming excitedly. He fidgeted under her touch stifling the laughter that threatened to escape his lips at the ticklish sensation. "Ah! Shiv, hold up- Whoa! Heh, stop it, It tickles!"

"Tres! No, no, no!" Shiver exclaimed, frantically yanking away her tentacle from Tres with a wet pop sound. She stumbled away backwards, feeling deeply mortified at what she had unknowingly forced upon him. Just like Marina she slipped into speaking Octarian to cope with the shock, gibbering mad nonsense as she fell to her knees. prostrating herself in a fearful display of penitence. "Yg' mgepahn nahk ah'gohta! Y' Dqang je wanI'vetlh, Chev'v! (It was an accident! I didn't mean to, I swear!)"

The scene unfolding before the group was a peculiar one. Unlike Marina, who acted as if she just witnessed bloody murder, the others were more bewildered than they were judgemental. It was clear that they were missing some very crucial context, something that only Octolings were aware of. It was obviously a touchy subject to Shiver and Marina if it could shatter their calm demeanor like a hammer to glass and make them act crazy.

"Uh..." Tres gawked at Shiver, he'd never seen her act like this before. She was always so cool headed and in control, to see her break down like this in front of him was jarring. He rubbed at his neck awkwardly, tracing the large rings that were suckled onto his skin. "C-calm down, Shiv. It's not that bad, the marks will go away."

"Qo'! (No!)" Shiver pressed her forehead against the ground, visibly trembling. "Y' G'ep mgeph N'gh'agtl ta'! Y' ah Mu'tlhegh'e' qo' Hoch! Y' batlhDaj jIV'Ha! (I have committed a grave deed! I am not worth your breath! I am honorless filth!)"

"Pearl, what are they saying?" Marie whispered to Pearl.

"How the heck should I know?! I don't speak Octarian!" Pearl whispered back loudly.