Chapter Text
Droning thumps of bass from the lobby’s speakers echoed throughout the Grand Stadium’s halls, reverberating off the walls and pounding into Kieran’s skull. He found himself tapping his foot repeatedly, trying his best to ground himself and keep his thoughts focused on something—anything—other than what was ahead of him. He glanced enviously at his teammates, his vision shielded from the harsh fluorescent lights above him by the bandana tied around his head.
Carmine—his big sister—radiated a fiery aura of excitement and passion that somehow found a way to burn even hotter than usual. Lacey—the sweet realist of the group—contented herself to chat merrily with their teammates. Drayton laid back entirely, dawning a position unfit for the professional environment they were in; at least, that’s what Kieran thought. Surprisingly, underneath his lax demeanor was an eagerness that was much unusual for him. Most days he couldn’t bring himself to show a hint of energy or passion for anything.
“I can’t wait to get out there!” Lacey beamed. “I wanna make sure all the cuties cheering us on get the best show we can give them!”
“You bet!” Carmine grinned. “I’m gonna make sure the Knights eat dirt personally!”
“Don’t get your hopes up, but…” Drayton trailed off mischievously, “you might actually get to see me try my best.”
“Fat chance,” Carmine quipped. “We couldn’t get you to pull your weight if your life depended on it.”
“Oh, c’mon, have some faith, Carmine!” Drayton complained. “I can clutch up when it counts.”
“You’d better, or I’ll add dirt to your menu as well.”
Drayton shrugged cheekily. “Message received.”
“We should talk strategy,” Kieran broke in suddenly, causing all three of his teammates to clock him.
“Sure thing, champ. Let’s hear it.” Drayton kicked his feet up before swiftly swinging them back down to avoid Carmine’s slap.
“All right,” Kieran cleared his throat. “I’m playing to get splats with my Splatana Stamper. Lacey, you’re using your Dapple Dualies, right?”
“That’s right!” Lacey confirmed. “I’ll make sure you guys always have Beakons to jump to and drinks to keep you moving!”
“Good. Drayton, you’re using your Nautilus, right?”
“Yup, that’s right. Number 47 as always!” Drayton grinned and gave a thumbs up.
“Good. Sis, you’re using your Inkbrush?”
“Yeah! I’m not givin’ this thing up for the world.”
“Great. We’re all set, then.”
“You good, Kieran?” Drayton asked, his nonchalant demeanor never leaving him. “You look a little more…gloomy than usual.”
Kieran opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the doors to the lobby swung open and four figures dressed to impress stepped inside. The Brawlers all turned to clock them, and Kieran’s eyes immediately narrowed when he registered who they were: the Naranja Knights.
“Oh, hey, look who it is!” Florian provoked. “Didn’t think we’d catch you four before the big game! What an honor.”
“Florian, be nice!” Juliana chided. She turned her attention to the four in front of them. “I’m so sorry about him… Best of luck tonight, you guys!” she smiled softly.
Lacey returned her smile. “Thank you so much! May the best team win!”
“That being us,” Florian grinned. At that comment, he received the meanest look Lacey could muster and a harsh bump to the arm with Juliana’s elbow. “Ow! Damn.”
Nemona stepped up from behind them, propping herself higher with Juliana’s shoulder and waving excitedly. “Hey, you guys! Great to see you! Don’t hold back on us tonight!”
I definitely won’t , Kieran thought to himself miserably.
The Naranja Knights quickly made their leave, exiting the lobby down one of the stadium’s many winding hallways. As they left, Arven—the one lingering at the back of their group—gave a small nod to the Brawlers as he passed them by.
“The nerve of that guy!” Carmine grumbled, balling her fists in front of her. “Where does he get off?”
“I don’t know how he and that Juliana girl can be siblings… They’re so different,” Lacey lamented.
“Wildly different natures, I guess,” Drayton shrugged. “At least all the apples aren’t rotten.”
Kieran stared down at the floor, quickly tuning out the conversations of his teammates. Even the mere mention of Juliana’s name was enough to get his nerves firing. Something about the way she played—so passive, yet so efficient. It was almost enough to drive him crazy. He couldn’t tell if what he felt was fear or not—he had full confidence in his team, but the Naranja Knights didn’t get to the top for no reason. He wanted to do everything in his power to ensure the Blueberry Brawlers won this season.
He didn’t want to admit the real reason he had a reaction to her. He could never bring himself to.
The clock struck 8:50 p.m.
The show was about to start. Kieran couldn’t differentiate the sound of his own racing heart with the sound of the footsteps of his team as they made their way outside and to the chopper pads. There waited two helicopters in two of the many designated spots: one labeled with the insignia of the Knights, the other of the Brawlers. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at the other chopper. He immediately regretted his decision when his gaze fell upon his opponents boarding their chopper. Kieran whipped his head to face forward once more, but he wasn’t quick enough, unfortunately.
He and Florian had already made eye contact.
Thankfully for Kieran, there wasn’t any opportunity for Florian to taunt him with all of them hopping into their respective rides. When the Brawlers had their seatbelts fastened and were all secured, the pilot introduced himself politely. He was a sweet Inkling on the older side who talked in a friendly, raspy voice. Whatever conversation was happening between the four of them fizzled out in no-time as the pilot made conversation with them as they flew their way to the site of the final showdown. Much to Kieran’s surprise, his body began to loosen up when talking with the old man alongside his friends. The tension seemed to flood straight out of his fingers and toes, completely leaving him.
The group continued to chat for the entirety of the ride. Occasionally, the Brawlers would take a moment to survey the landscapes beneath them, but their main focus was on passing the time with conversation. Before they could all get too comfortable, the pilot cut their conversation short as Flounder Heights became visible in the distance. Kieran cursed internally. Guess this is it.
“All right, so we’re just pulling up to Flounder Heights now,” the pilot explained as if he’s gone over this speech a million times prior. “When we land, there will be a few fellow Inklings and Octolings on the ground to hand you off your gear and your weapons. After that, you’ll have a bit of time to prepare and get your affairs in order before you’ll be called, enter the launchers, and be carted off to the stage itself. Is that clear with everyone?”
“Clear as crystal,” Drayton nodded.
“Sure is!” Lacey confirmed.
“Yeah, all makes sense to me!” Carmine assured.
Kieran only nodded his head.
“Excellent!” the pilot beamed. The chopper soon slowed and descended, touching base with the ground before long at all. In front of them now stood a new building—one that put the original stadium back in the Splatlands to shame. It was big enough to make Kieran wonder if Flounder Heights was just inside there instead of it being its own separate thing. The old man wished the group good luck as they exited the vehicle. Once he ensured they had all gotten down, he ascended once more and was off into the distance in no time.
The group barely had any time to readjust before they were approached by five new figures—all of them sporting the signature blue hue of the Blueberry Brawlers—exiting the gargantuan front doors of this new stadium.
“Welcome!” one of the figures—a female Inkling that looked to be in her early twenties—greeted, squinting down at a notepad in her hands, “you must be the Blueberry Brawlers?”
“That’s us!” Lacey confirmed with a friendly smile.
“Wonderful! It’s great to finally meet you all. Congratulations on making it this far! I can’t imagine how much work it must have taken…”
“Thank you!” Carmine beamed, soaking in the praise like Alterna’s most absorbent sponges. “It was hard, but we pulled through—even with Drayton on our team.”
“Woah, hey! Let’s not throw strays right off the bat, Carmine,” Drayton complained, feigning indignance. “You can’t sour a guy’s first impression like that.”
“Well, that’s too bad, because I already did!”
Kieran sighed, walking up to the Inkling. “Sorry for their behavior. Do you need us to sign anywhere?”
“Oh, no!” the Inkling seemed a bit flustered, shifting to hold the notepad down at her side. “I’m…I’m just new.”
“I see. Well, I’m Kieran. What about you?”
“Oh! I-I’m Millie,” Millie stammered, trying her best to regain her composure.
The other Brawlers had quit their bickering long enough to hear the tail-end of their conversation and advance to join Kieran.
“That’s a nice name,” Lacey complimented. “It’s nice to meet you, Millie!”
“Yeah, absolutely!” Carmine concurred. “And don’t worry about being new. You’re doing great.”
“Ah, thank you so much…” Millie squeaked sheepishly.
“All right, you guys, let’s give her some space,” Drayton urged, showing a surprising amount of seriousness. The Brawlers heeded his word and backed up, providing Millie some much-needed breathing room. She sighed gently, confirming Drayton’s suspicions.
The second figure, a slightly-older-looking Octoling woman who was also sporting the Brawler’s ink color, approached to stand next to Millie now. She gave a small wave and a warm smile. “Hello, you four. It’s a delight to finally see you in-person. I’m Sydney, Millie’s manager. Best of luck tonight!”
“Thank you as well!” Lacey chirped. “We’ll do our best.”
Sydney nodded, before glancing behind her. “Now, then. We don’t have much time before your event starts. Let’s get you all situated with your weapons and gear before we send you off—if you’d just follow us, please.” Millie gestured towards the stadium as she turned on her heel and made her way inside, Millie at her hip. They followed suit, and after some sorting, discussion, and gearing, the Blueberry Brawlers were ready for the final showdown of the season.
After all their gear was in place, and their weapons were safely in their clutches once more, Sydney directed them over to a balcony where four steel boxes hung by propellers in the air.
“I’m sure you all need no introduction to these things,” Sydney admitted, “but the Spawners are all ready for you to go whenever you are. You’re on in three.”
The four of them all gave their respective thanks before stepping onto the balcony. The Spawners slowly lowered, their vent hatch tinted blue now exposed. They all entered their octopus form and jumped inside. The propellers kicked off again and they were carried the short distance to the stage itself. From where they were positioned currently, they were able to see the entirety of their side of Flounder Heights. In any normal Turf War, it would be nothing spectacular, but to them, it meant the world.
Outside the reach of the players’ ink stood four giant screens, each positioned in the center of each side of the map. They were currently off, but wouldn’t remain that way for very long. Each of the Brawlers speculated internally about the purpose of said screens; their theorizing being quickly cut short when all of them flicked to life at once, flashing with two very familiar logos: the tri-colored Deep Cut, and the gold-and-silver Off the Hook.
Their feeds alternated from Pearl, Marina, Shiver, Frye, or Big Man—depending on who was talking currently.
They all flicked to Shiver. “Listen up, it’s going down!” they announced, just as they’d done a seeming million times before. “Repping the Blueberry Brawlers tonight, we are DEEP CUT!”
Then to Marina. “And Off the Hook,” she added, “coming at you live from Flounder Heights, backing the Naranja Knights!”
Then to Frye. “Thanks everyone for tuning in tonight! We’ve seen your messages, and we know you’re just as excited for this final showdown as we are!”
Then to Pearl. “You know how this works by now! We sing while our players play, and when the clock strikes one minute, you get a special new mashup from us! Marina and I have spent a long time working with Deep Cut to make sure this sounds PERFECT for all of you! We hope you’re ready!”
Then to Big Man. “Ay, ay ay, ay, ay ay! (As always, if you’re watching with our app, you’ll be able to choose to watch any player’s perspective individually. If you’re watching on our TV program, you’ll have to watch what we think are the best angles!)”
Then back to Shiver. “With all of that out of the way—” they banged their closed fan on the desk in front of them, “it looks like our players are about ready to begin! It’s almost 9:00, everyone. Stay tuned for the beginning of the end!”
A countdown flashed onto each screen, replacing the idols and slowly marching towards 9:00. When the clock finally struck 9:00, a blaring whistle sound exploded from all angles, the Spawners blasted the players onto the field, and the various idols appeared on the screen, singing a new song none of the players recognized.
This is it.
The Brawlers didn’t waste any time getting to inking. Kieran rushed forward, lashing his Splatana wildly, constantly dipping in and out of his ink to charge to the frontlines as soon as he could. Despite his speed, Carmine managed to make him eat her dust with her brush. Lacey held off to the side, inking as much of their backline as she could with her fast-shooting dualies. She crouched down, placing a cheeky Beakon in a spot behind a ventilator’s cover. Drayton used the various trails left by the siblings to progress quicker than he would otherwise. He charged up many a shot, ensuring that all the spots the two of them missed in their haste were covered to the best of his ability for the time crunch they were all under.
The four of them each had finally made it to the center, arriving from different directions and perched in different places. Speckles of orange soon made their way into view as two of their enemies came up to join them: Nemona and Arven. The first fight of the match broke out with a flare of dramatics. Carmine and Kieran each took one side of the walkways to the center grate, where they were met with their respective matches. Drayton offered some shots from the grass patch behind them to help keep them in their own ink during the exchange.
On the right was Kieran, who tried desperately to fight off Nemona’s relentless direct brush strikes. Eventually, after enough peppering from Nemona and a well-placed vertical flick from Kieran, both of them went down in a satisfying trade. As for the left with Carmine and Arven, she tried to get some brush flicks off, but didn’t do quite enough to splat Arven who took her down in just two vertical flicks of his Roller.
“Booyah!” Nemona cheered excitedly as she advanced to cover more turf. Arven gave a thumbs up as he continued to flick and roll.
Drayton pushed up, charging his splatling in an attempt to at least push the attacking pair back. Before he could fire, however, he was quickly met with a sharp burst of pain as he was splatted by two Aerosprays firing at him at the same time.
Juliana and Florian had snuck up on him.
“All clear over here!” Florian called out, disdain oozing from every note his vocal chords produced. “Keep up the pressure!”
Sweat began to make its way down Lacey’s brow—she had to act fast. She inked the wall in front of her, transforming into and octopus and surging up it. If I can take down one of them, things can at least go a little better. Just one is all I need , she hyped herself up. She squeezed the triggers of her Dualies as hard as she could, and just like that, Nemona was splatted. That didn’t stop Arven from whipping around and sending her back to the Spawners worse for wear. At least I did something… It wasn’t all bad, though. Before Lacey was splatted, she heard an impact sound behind her. They’re using the Beakon!
The Turf War raged on like this for the rest of the count until the clock struck one minute. When it did, a ding rang out and the screens flickered, the idols standing at the ready as the intro to a new song began to blare. Something all of them recognized, but managed to send chills down their spines regardless.
“Ay, ay, ay! (You’re now listening to: Now or Never, Season of Schools Mix!)” Big Man cheered as the four idols began another dance routine. It was a goosebumps-inducing mix of the classic Turf War song, both Off the Hook and Deep Cut’s style bleeding through the melody and blending together in a way that would’ve made all of them stop what they were doing and dance—if the occasion wasn’t so important.
Sooner than later, the vocals kicked in, alternating between verses from Pearl to Marina to Shiver to Frye. It wasn’t dissimilar to the remix Marina had made for Off the Hook’s so-called “Final Fest,” which was really the final Splatfest they’d be hosting during their current rotation before going on break. Various lights around the stage began to flash in perfect sync—some to the instrumental, some to the vocals. They alternated between the blue of the Brawlers, the orange of the Knights, and the teal, pink, blue, and yellow that the humanoid members of both groups dawned idly.
As the four celebrities began their melodic chant, all eight of them kicked their play into overdrive. It really was…
Now or Never.
Viewers all over the Splatlands and Inkadia alike were at the edge of their seats, yelling, screaming, stimming, and singing along to the song as they watched the finalists play. It was unlike anything any of them had seen before. The players’ faces were more focused than ever, their bodies somehow both stiff and performing perfectly. The number of total splats increased as each player became more aggressive—even Lacey and Juliana. Flounder Heights was alight with these two flames clashing to be brightest. The battlefield ebbed and flowed from orange to blue, like a tug of war game where each team was equally matched in strength. The tides of the game shifted relentlessly with each player getting splats, allowing room for their teammates, and being splatted, making them unable to participate for an excruciating time. A few seconds was a lot when all you had was one minute.
Finally, after a climactic game, the clock began to count down, the ever-decreasing numbers flashing on the screens as they made their formulaic descent. All the fans watching, regardless of which team they cheered for, began to chant:
“FIVE!”
Juliana got splatted. Kieran and Carmine pushed in while Drayton and Lacey followed behind.
“FOUR!”
Nemona and Arven made quick work of the over-extenders, giving room for them and Florian to cover more ground and push the others back further.
“THREE!”
Kieran jumped to Lacey’s Beakon, getting a nasty splat on Nemona before Arven took care of him. He then fell back as Juliana jumped to him, Florian keeping the Brawlers away in an attempt to give his sister a safe landing.
“TWO!”
Florian splatted Drayton, using his quick movement to disorient him and make him waste his weapon’s charge. Arven used the vertical flick of his Roller to finally break Lacey’s pesky Beakon.
“ONE!”
The whistle blew. Carmine, who had been super jumping to Lacey, landed as everyone else froze in their tracks. Their various Spawners quickly scooped them up as the battlefield was surveyed. They made it back to the stadium they had been originally transported from, all four of them rushing past the staff to all stare up at the giant terminal screen that displayed what was on the screens of every adoring viewer at home: the results.
Suffice it to say, it didn’t look good for the Brawlers.
While they had managed to make a decent dent in the overall coverage, the map’s surface was largely dominated by orange. Carmine, Drayton, and Lacey stood anxiously as they awaited the judgment of the two Judds; Kieran, however, already begrudgingly accepting defeat.
Even if it was a contractual obligation, and a tradition, for the cats to wave their flags depending on whichever team had won, it still felt like the most heinous insult of Kieran’s life when Li’l Judd ended up holding his flag, indicating a victory for the Naranja Knights.
The team’s reactions to losing was…mixed.
Lacey was disappointed, but accepted it nonetheless, just happy she got the experience.
Drayton was nonchalant as per usual, though he was careful about his wording when expressing his wishes of things going different.
Carmine was fuming. “How could we lose?!” she hissed, shaking her fists in front of her. “We tried so hard! We did so well! You saw how we played! What gives!?”
As for Kieran? You would have to know him better than Carmine did to properly extract how he felt. On the outside, he seemed as cool as ever, remaining stoic and expressionless from behind his team as he eyed their reactions. You’d have to have a different level of eyesight to see his eye twitching. Inside his head, his thoughts raged—both figuratively and literally. If he could, he’d turn into a Kraken right now and start tearing the place up. He wasn’t like his sister, though—he knew better. He knew he had to bide his time. And he knew exactly what to bide it for.
He wouldn’t lose like this again.