[Just a moment after Otto comes to, Eight does as well. Their breathing sputters, as if they got cut off mid-inhale, and restarts in a slightly shakier pace than before. They take a moment to process Otto's response, then to look around, then to check the date.]
[A loud groan echoes through the room and, in sync with it, Eight's head falls onto their knees. The groan goes on for a good long while as they contemplate what their life has come to. Only after half a minute do they realise exactly what Otto has said just before and how their immediate reaction might look to her. They mumble out another response without lifting their head, the sound muffled.]
"Not you, you're good, be whoever you wanna be. Don't care. Not what I'm groaning about."
[Eight gestures to her vaguely with their hand while they speak, a movement that even they have no clue about the meaning of. And then, just as sharply as their previous mood swing was, they get up from the floor.]
"You know, we started this conversation in late October, just a week before Halloween. Did you know that? I doubt you did. Wanna guess what date it is right now? The twenty second of January. Oh on that note, happy new year I guess. Twenty twenty six is upon us."
[The teen starts pacing back and forth and back and forth through the room, occasionally stopping to look at Otto. For dramatic effect.]
"That's another reason for why I've been so distracted, actually! Time isn't- time isn't fucking linear! Time! You know, the fourth dimension or whatever? That one? The one that's relative? Well it is really, really fucking relative apparently! Cause it's non-linear! Some interactions start and go on for a day, some for a week, some for a month, some for a whole goddamn year! And all of those interactions are the same length, technically! Ha. Haha. Some interactions don't end at all. And nobody seems to notice! Nobody seems to fucking notice any of it! Nobody except for me I guess. And Star, but- they noticed that time passed, but they didn't really think about the implications. So it doesn't count."
[After almost not making a turn and almost walking into a wall, Eight finally decides to stop pacing, and just leans at the wall instead.]
"You don't notice anything, I know, but every time any one of us stops speaking or moving or whatnot, anytime the hypothetical baton is passed to the next person, time passes. It was almost two and a half months this time around. Between my question and your reply. I don't know why it's happening, I don't know why the pauses are sometimes longer or shorter either. All I know is that I- I don't want to be stuck in this fucking time limbo anymore."
[The teen's hands slowly slide up as they speak, ending up in a sort of an awkward, tense self-hug. They keep speaking, not letting Otto get a word in.]
"Right now, I'm in.. five places simultaneously, at the very least. I'm here, talking to you, three months ago. I'm a year ago, talking to bu- oh fuck it, talking to Soul and watching Star meet Security. I'm talking to an dumbass four months ago. I'm outside of any interactions, just living my daily life in the present. And I'm also... talking about intestines and salsa at somebody's family reunion? In a whole other universe? I have no idea what's happening there. But, the point is, I'm experiencing all of those simultaneously, all at different times and sometimes even in different dimensions, and, hell, it feels like my head is cracking the fuck open."
[And with that, Eight slid down the wall, quietly awaiting for Otto's respo-]
"I'm not done yet. Don't you dare end the post on me. Ah- that. Wasn't to you. I just- as long as I keep speaking, as long as I keep moving and thinking and doing stuff, this won't end. It can't end. It's only in those little bits between the actions that time passes. As long as I keep at it, I know that nothing bad will happen. And I- I just. I just don't know how much time is going to pass. I don't want it to. I might see you tomorrow, might see you in a month, might see you fucking never again! There are some interactions which didn't end at all. Some which have been buried without finishing. I don't want this to happen. I don't want this to be the last time I'm speaking to you, even if I only have to wait- I don't want to wait! I don't control these pauses, can't control them, and so once I stop speaking I'm just stuck. Stuck waiting. Stuck with no ability to act out of turn or to do anything at all or to even control where I'll get sent to next, which universe, which person, which time. I'm just. Scared. But as long as I-"
[Otto reaches out with a faintly trembling hand, long since healed and freed from its cast. She seems hesitant, even nervous, but still she reaches out to offer a grounding warmth, that hand coming to a gentle rest on Eight’s shoulder. Eight shudders, and turns their head in her direction. Finally, their speech gets cut off mid-word.]