Chapter Text
Oh squid
So many people
Get me out holy shit
In a shocking turn of events,you stop being me, and you become the squid.
And you don’t want to stay here anymore this is the worst idea you’ve ever had holy shit
But you have to suck it up, I mean, you’ve been meaning to do this for so long, it would be stupid to abscond now, so you try shooting, before being interupted by a loud a shit music coming from the tv.
-”<3< Hold on to your <t3ntacl3s<...” -”it's <ink<>p<>lis> news time!<>” -”<3< <L3t's< <unv3il< <th3< <curr3nt< <r3gular< <battl3< <stag3s<!” -” all right! <>”
Oh right, the idols do the stage presentations. They somehow manage to have an audible quirk, which you couldn’t even dream of, for many reasons, but mainly because talking is overrated, you’d rather talk with your palms, and pray the other person actually knows Palmtalk.
They rarely do.
But that does mean your quirk is actually visible, which rocks even more than having it being audible imo.
Oh right, you haven’t even shown your quirk yet.
Anyway.
With the stages set, the noise starts to slowly die down as inklings start to get into queues, being handed their Grub of their team color
Several queues for different types of turf wars form, and as you join the low level turf wars, being assigned a gold colored Grub, you could see the professional S+ rank players exchanging a few words as you stare at them, but so does many of the inklings in your group, so who cares.
Maybe you stare a lil bit too much, because you barely even see them leaving as you rush toward them.
This game is going to be a blast.
You’ve just arrived at “Mahi-Mahi Resort”. You’re still silently observing your surroundings as the Jellyfish in charge of your group explains to you the rules of Turf wars. It’s not really that complex, each team has a Colored grub, don’t forget to set your respawn point on the thingy, unless you want to be sued and possibly culled, ink the map, the team with the most turf wins!
They briefly explain how to set up respawn points, and verify everyone has properly done that before starting the match, then tells you to get in place before the game starts, which will be in about a minute.
In the meantime, you overhear two of your teammates speaking
-”Vriska, My Friend Have You Heard About The News?”
-”The Gr8 Zapfish? Yeah, honestly it’s whatever, don’t we have smaller, lamer Zapfishes anyway?”
-”Yes But I Am Quite Worried Of What Will Happen If It Isn’t Recovered Soon; Especially If The Person Behind It Has Not So Nice Intentions.”
-”Urgh Whateeeeeeeever”
Well that’s news.
You don’t even have time to think about whatever the hell that was before the speaker starts the countdown.
3
2
1
GO!