Chapter Text
Like a small timid child hiding behind a corner, the morning sun peaked up over the horizon of Amphibia, its golden rays dancing across the meridian blue of the eastern sea in dazzling and wondrous patterns. As the sun rose higher still a single ray of light wormed its way through the drawn entrance of the tent, slewing across the carpeted floors, over the flimsy paper-strewn desk, and finally onto the face of Sasha Waybright.
Still fast asleep, the young girl did not react at first. Slowly, however, as the warmth of the new day’s light penetrated her eyelids she stirred, groaning and scrunching her features in displeasure. Unable to bear the discomfort further Sasha opened her eyes, batting her blonde eyelashes drowsily as awareness slowly returned to her senses.
Gingerly she lifted her head, Anne and Marcy, snuggled up beside her on the makeshift cot were still fast asleep, snoring gently. Taking care not to disturb her two friends, Sasha extricated herself from the sleeping bundle. She didn’t have to worry, both Marcy and Anne were dead to the world, practically comatose after weeks of stress and hardship.
They needed the rest.
Sasha stepped out of the tent, taking in a deep breath of the deliciously salty ocean air. The weather had cleared up dramatically from the night before for not a single cloud darkened the crisp blue sky and the breeze blew as gently as a mother’s caress, lightly jostling Sasha’s long blonde hair.
Even after coming around to Amphibia as someplace more than just a sandbox to satisfy her ego, Sasha had not thought the alien world capable of such natural beauty. Yet here it was, a spectacle that one would be hard-pressed to find of like even on the most picturesque shores of Earth’s oceans. It brought back memories, most good, some not.
Memories of the beach trips her parents had brought her and Cameron on when she was really little, before the divorce.
They were only flashes of memories, images, feelings. Cameron crouched over a tidal pool pointing to the massive crab lurking at its bottom, Dad sliding her across the water on his surfboard, Mom helping her pick out the best seashell to bring back home to LA, Mom and Dad shouting at each other again.
That last memory should have been painful, should have sent a chill down her spine but every memory she had of her parents fighting was always instantly cut off by Cameron pulling her aside to show her a new game he’d made, or a funny face he’d found out how to pull. He’d always been there to make her smile, to make her laugh, to make her feel safe. Now, however…
Sasha flinched, snapping herself out of her daydream. Daydreaming wouldn’t save her big brother. There was work to be done.
The beach of Amphibia’s eastern shore buzzed with activity as the massive contingent of rebel forces hustled to and fro, making preparations for their leaders’ expedition. Outside a small green tent, near the middle of the great camp, Hoppediah Plantar grunted and snorted as he fought tooth and nail with the zipper of the diving suit, “confounded thing… Polly, are you sure this is mine and not Sprig’s?”
The tadpole glanced up at her grandfather from the welding job she was halfway through on Frobo, flipping up the mask protecting her face, “Of course! I even wrote your name on the collar, why is it not fitting?” She narrowed her eyes, a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips, “because that’d be really weird if not, especially after you gave me your measurements.”
Hop Pop froze, a nervous smile cracking across his features, “Ah… yes, well I could have been mistaken… you know how us old fogeys get.” he laughed mirthlessly, “always forgetting things…”
Polly shook her head, arms crossed, “No, no, quite impossible. I had you triple-check, remember?” She tapped her chin, “Yes! In fact, I think I remember you ‘correcting’ me about your size.”
“Well, I don’t remember it exactly like that…”
“No, no, you were quite insistent, ‘Polly, I’m a gentle frog’s medium (athletic cut) at Ribbitvale, I don’t fit into a large’. Your words exactly, and who am I, a tadpole, to argue with my elders?”
Hop Pop’s face turned red as he gave one final tug on the zipper, sucking in his middle as best he could. It came to no avail. Hanging his head in shame the old frog was silent until Polly cleared her throat with a loud cough. He lifted his eyes towards her pitifully, “I… uh, might have been a bit optimistic in my size estimates…”
Polly cocked an eyebrow, “so what size do you want?” Hop Pop gazed at the floor, Polly sighed, turning back to Frobo, “Well if you can’t make up your mind I’ve got work to do, Frobo’s waterproofing is only halfway done.”
Biting his lip hard Hop Pop clenched his fists then let out a defeated sigh, “Fine, fine… I need a… gentle frog’s large.”
Polly didn’t turn, “and…?”
Hop Pop put his head in his hands, “...a gentle frog’s large, relaxed cut.”
Polly flipped her welding mack back down, “in my storage chest, underneath Frobo’s spares.”
Sprig tightened the diving belt about his waist as he watched Hop Pop sullenly march in the Plantars’ tent, his ill-fitting diving suit’s sleeves making twin grooves in the soft sand behind him. The young frog whistled, “brutal takedown sis.”
“Pride cometh before the fall.” Polly flipped the vision up once more, examining her handiwork. The makeshift submarine built around Frobot built around her loyal frobotic companion more than doubled his head-cum-racecar body’s size. Oblong, and about the size of an adult human, the submersible placed Frobo at the bow, with his eyes acting as headlight, and left room for a sealed chamber for Polly at the stern. A glass dome, taken from the eye socket of a particularly large frobot model would allow the tadpole a view of the depths while Frobo’s wheels, affixed to rudimentary propellers, and the addition of a crude ballast system provided the craft with maneuverability.
Sprig cocked an eyebrow at the craft, “You’re sure you wanna go down in that thing?”
Polly leapt up atop her creation, slapping the glass dome with a hollow thwack, “if my calculations (checked by Marcy) are correct, this puppy should be good for depths well below the fleet, and it’s got oxygen for up to seventy-two hours. Trust me, bro, this thing’s unsinkable.”
“Didn’t we just talk about pride com-”
“Nice ride, Polly!” The Plantar siblings glanced over their shoulders to see Anne, Sasha, and Marcy approaching the tent, navigating their way through the swarm of toads, frogs, and newts going about their own business. All three girls were wearing their diving suits, Victorian-era-looking things with massive caged helmets which they were carrying at their sides or under their arms. Anne, who had been the one to call out, waved to them, “You guys ready? Where’s Hop Pop?”
Polly nodded to their tent, “deflating his ego. We’ll be ready to go in a second, just got to add the air tanks to Frobo.”
Marcy, eyes far brighter than they had been the previous day, walked over and ran her hand down the length of the submersible, “looks pretty good to me Polly, good job!”
The tadpole kicked her feet bashfully, “thanks…”
Sasha glanced around, “where the hell is Grime and Gary? We’ve got a schedule to keep. I swear if he stayed up all night watching Suspicion Island again…”
“Jokes on you, I already binged all of the new episodes Anne brought back on the flight over.” Grime strode up, hammer balanced lightly across his shoulders. Behind him were the Gary trio from Gardenton. Norris, Horace, and Grime had, like the girls, been outfitted with diving suits and helmets fitted to their specific biology. For his part, Jeremy was secured at the top of Horrace’s head, nestled in between the purple growths of the parasitic mushroom.
No, parasitic was the wrong word, or at least it was now. Gary’s relationship with the Gardenton inhabitants had proven to be entirely symbiotic, and should Marcy’s scheme succeed, vital to the Rebellion’s survival.
Sasha smiled at her toad friend, “You’re a full-blown addict, you know that?”
Grime chuckled, “It's your people's fault. Humans shouldn’t have made such addicting media.”
Sasha giggled. Turning back to the group she noticed Marcy pacing back and forth around Polly's submarine, though she was no longer examining it. The black-haired girl was fidgeting excitedly with anything and everything that came within reach, to the point where she was adjusting Anne’s diving belt at periodic intervals as she looped around Polly’s creation. For her part Anne didn’t even seem to notice, chatting away merrily with Sprig as she idly tossed her diving helmet between her hands.
Hiding her smile at her friends' antics Sasha cupped a hand around her mouth and shouted over to the Plantars tent, “Hop Pop! Get your butt out here before Marcy digs a trench from pacing!”
After a brief moment, the old frog sauntered out from behind the tent flaps, buckling the belt about his diving suit, “Alright, alright, you don’t have to shout…”
Seeing everyone was now assembled Marcy strung up straight and clapped her hands together loudly, the sudden noise causing a nearby band of newt archers to flinch in shock, “Alright everyone listen up! I’m going to give you a quick crash course in diving.”
Reaching down she held up a small shiny cylinder, about the size of a wine bottle, “This is an air tank, you’ve each got four of them.”
Anne held up her hand for attention, glancing about to make sure everyone could see her, “can everyone just confirm for me that they’ve got four air tanks and that they’re all full?” There were a series of ‘ayes’ and ‘yeses’ from the group.
Marcy beamed over at her friend, “Thank you, Anna-Banana! Yes, also another important detail, everyone should have their names written down on their tanks, along with a number. We don’t have different tank sizes so I’ve put down a rough estimate of how long each tank will last for each person at about the depth we expect to find the fleet.”
Grime flipped the air tank over in his hands, “hmph, two hours.”
Sprig stuck his tongue out cheekily at the toad captain, “Three for me, in your faaaaaace!”
Marcy shrugged, “Sorry Grime, having a small lung capacity makes a big difference.” She turned back to her audience, “On average, we all have about eight hours of air, more than enough time to get down to the ships and back up in case anything goes wrong. Speaking of going up, pressure. As we descend all that weight from the water above us will push down on our bodies and raise the pressure in them. Sounds kinda bad but our bodies will adapt, what is bad is if we lower the pressure rapidly the nitrogen in the air we’ll be breathing exits the solution phase and forms bubbles in our bloodstream and tissues.” Marcy blew raspberry with her mouth and wiggled her fingers.
Sasha nodded, “in layman's terms, don’t swim up too fast or you’ll get sick. Everyone should have a watch on their person, you want to be ascending by about a foot every two seconds, but slower is better. If you feel anything off, stop and take a three-minute break, that goes for descending too.”
“Right,” Marcy held up her hands and threw up a series of hand gestures, “Talking’s obviously going to be a bit tough with helmets on so make sure you remember the hand signals. Also, double-check your flashlight, it’ll be dark at the depth we’re going to and pitch black inside the ships before we get the power back online.” Taking one last look around Marcy smiled, “Well, that about covers it, who’s ready for an underwater adventure?!”
Sasha felt her feet touch down on the sandy surface of the sea shelf. The dull thump as she made contact, breaking up the monotony of the sound her own breaths were making in her ear. Above her, beside her, and in front of her, the endless grey-blue depths of the sea stretched out into infinity, cold and empty. Sasha stared off into the expanse, lost in thought as her rhythmic breathing pulled her into a trance.
They were sitting on Californian beach, the water far too cold to swim in but it was still fun to splash about in the shallows. It was the summer of 2016, five years since the divorce and three before the hell they now found themselves in.
“Cam… can I ask you something?”
He screw up his face at her, laughing and shivering as he stood, knees deep, in the pacific ocean, “only if I can ask you why you’re being such a wuss today.” He kicked up water at her, splashing it across the sand at her feet. Several, ice-cold, droplets of water struck her skin and she shrieked, recoiling from the assault.
“Hey, Heeey! Cut it out!” running back a short distance away from the surf she glared at him, “It’s freaking ice cold!”
He flashed her a grin, the braces he’d worn at the time glinting in the sun, “Nah, you’re just being a baby.”
“I can see you shivering!” crossing her arms she hunched her shoulders, “It’s a serious question, please don’t splash me again.”
Cameron paused, still shivering he nodded, “Okay, no splashing till after the question. What’s wrong?”
Sasha took in a deep breath and stepped closer to the water and her big brother, “I just… Well, I was thinking. How come you never seem too upset about Mom and Dad splitting up?”
Cameron eyed her, concern writ across his face, “did someone say something at school? Was it Dylan? I could kick his butt again if he’s been trying to bully you…”
Sasha shook her head and grimaced, “No, I could kick his butt on my own now… no I was just thinking is all… you spent most of your life with them together, I only spent half of mine…” She hugged her arms tight about herself, “Did… did I do it? Did they break up because of me?”
The water splash hit Sasha full across the face, completely drenching her. Gasping, she recoiled from the surf once more, “asshole! What was that for?!” she paused, seeing the angry expression on Cameron’s face.
He was standing now with hands balled into fists and placed on either hip, glaring ferociously up at her from the water, “If you’re going to be stupid, you’re gonna get hit. What do you mean ‘Did mom and dad split up because of me’, are you brain dead?”
Straightening her hair Sasha glowered at him but didn’t speak.
Cameron sighed and looked down at the water, “sorry…” he tilted his head up and smiled sheepishly, “but that was a pretty stupid thing to say. Of course, you weren’t the reason they broke up. If anything you were the reason they stayed together for so long.”
Sasha folded her arms about herself again, “so what was it?”
Cameron laughed, “they absolutely hated being together.” He rolled his eyes, “I guess you were too young to remember this but it was freaking tiring. Every night, fight, fight, fight, shout, shout, shout. They stuck it out for you, probably thinking a normal family unit would be better for you but it was absolute hell for everyone involved.”
Sasha smirked, “I’m starting to see why you’re not bothered.”
He threw his arms out, “Are you kidding? It was so much better after they split. They’re both so much easier to be around now that they’re separate. They feel like they’re comfortable.” He smiled, “Also, double birthday parties and double Christmas presents.” he shrugged, “I guess there’s a moral in that story somewhere. Maybe about keeping people you like close and not getting too attached to people who you don’t get along with.”
Sasha nodded, “huh…”
With a mischievous glint in his eye, Cameron smirked at her, “Here’s another word of wisdom, don’t let your guard down. Surprise attack!” with a surge he sent another wave of water in her direction.”
The beach descended into chaos and shouting as Sasha charged into the water, kicking water of her own up at her big brother as they ran back and forth under the heat of the California sun.
Sasha opened her eyes and smiled, and then grimaced.
I think the lesson was probably that people are happiest when they’re allowed to be themselves… thanks for nothing, Cam…
Something touched her arm, poking into her just below the shoulder. Flinching she swung her head around, coming face to face with Anne. Her friend’s hair had been tied back by a bandana so that it didn’t obscure her vision, nevertheless, the sheer volume of Anne’s hair had it pressed up against all sides of her helmet. Spitting out a strand that had made its way into her mouth Anne grinned and flashed the ‘okay?’ hand gesture.
Smiling Sasha returned the signal. Behind Anne, the rest of the expedition was trudging across the dune-like sands of the ocean floor, kicking up a cloud of dust as they did so. Marcy pranced past them, hopping like a rabbit as she excitedly made her way to the shelf’s edge not too far away.
Giving one last nod to Anne, Sash turned and followed their carefree friend, bouncing across the sand until at last they reached the edge and the ocean floor before them fell away into the abyss.
Movement. It felt movement. Small disturbances in the current, the telltale cloud of disturbed sand.
Prey.
A baleful eye turned upward, running along the shelf’s edge. A small group, descending down into the dark. Lighting of pale yellow cutting into the swirling shadows of the depths. They were small creatures.
It would need to feast on all of them.
Water bowled out as a gargantuan bulk shifted into motion. A hide of glistening scales and a maw of razor-sharp teeth.