Chapter Text
Cap’n Cuttlefish took a seat in his shack, waiting for a batch of crabby cakes to finish up. Of course, Octavio took the opportunity to escape. It was somewhat like clockwork, their little game. Cuttlefish was almost disappointed when he’d stopped coming back to kidnap him a few years back, and he suspected that this time would be no different. After all, agents 1 and 2 had been in charge of him as of late, and with the change in the guard his old strategy of appealing to agent 1’s pride wouldn’t cut it. He sighed, thinking back to times when perhaps they could have held some conversation over cakes rather than this…
Octavio returned to his quarters back in Octo Valley, dismissing a couple Octolings who were maintaining it as he did so. He sat down to begin plotting his next move, when he noticed something amiss. He kept an old woven basket in one corner, and where it was meant to contain an aged set of Wasabi sticks and a small package, it seems someone decided to remove the sticks. He grudgingly went to where the rest of the sticks were stored, a drawer in his stereo set, and pulled the old ones out. That’s usually where they ended up when cleaners did it wrong. He set the sticks back in the basket, and couldn’t help being reminded of an old friend. He went back to his plots, but his mind couldn’t help a walk down memory lane…
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Cuttlefish made his usual patrol on the border of Inkopolis, a route that consisted largely of walking by a forest, one the Octarians insisted on keeping maintained even though the Inklings had largely cut the trees down on their side, to make way for new developments. It wasn’t an eventful route, as not many octolings would walk through the woods to try and cross the border, but often if someone did, they weren’t exactly the sort you wanted to cross. Hence, their best sniper being put on the most boring route. Or at least, the highest scoring on the entry exam. To be frank, he was somewhat green on the Squidbeak Splatoon, a small splatoon maintained to avoid international incident.
Today it seemed, was one of the days where he might actually meet someone. An octoling, dressed in a samurai’s garb, appeared from the trees, making an approach towards the border. As was policy, he shot a line of ink on the border about where the octoling would cross, and swam over to meet them, bamboozler raised and ready. Then, the standard question. “Halt! What is your business here?”
The samurai-dressed fellow was an octoling named Octavio. And his response was one he knew would puzzle the inkling he was looking at, one with oddly pale tentacles and similar ink. “My business is curiosity. I would like to talk with you as you patrol.” He then simply smiled, holding out his arms to show that he wasn’t even armed.
Predictably, Cuttlefish was mentally disarmed by the situation. There… was nothing in his training, or his practice, about what to do in this scenario. So… “I guess that’s alright.” He lowered his trusty Bamboozler, and offered a hand to shake. The two of them shook hands, an odd energy sparking between them in that moment.
They recognized in each other, in that moment, power and possibilities. And given their mutual ambitions, they proceeded to nod and grin at the other.
“I’m Cuttlefish, future captain of the Squidbeak Splatoon if I have my way.”
“I look forward to your service. I’m Octavio, future general of the Octarian Forces, if I have my way.”
“I look forward to it. Let’s walk.” And with the introductions out of the way, the two continued Cuttlefish’s patrol.
After a moment’s silence, Cuttlefish was the one to rekindle the conversation. “So what is it you’re curious about, anyways?”
Octavio shrugged before answering. “I was curious as to why the need for a border patrol exists. We live in a time of peace, don’t we?”
Cuttlefish brightened, glad to exposit. “We do, and its important that that remain the case. See, there’s still crime on both sides, and some folks might get it into their head to cross to flee the law, or perhaps to offend the law on the other side. Both of these cases risk national incident, and Inklings, being… what’s the word…”
“Lazy?” The octoling supplied, a smirk showing on his features.
Cutttlefish groaned. “I was gonna say ‘inclined to get the most result out of minimal efforts’, but go ahead and stereotype. Point is, international incident means the higher-ups have to do more work. And since we aren’t that big on big organizations to begin with, it is understandably aggravating.”
Octavio shook his head. “The efforts you folk go through to avoid having to organize amaze me. But enough of that. Are there really that many attempts to cross for nefarious reasons? I can’t imagine either of our noble lands attempting to sabotage the other.”
Cuttlefish looked at him curiously. “You don’t pay much attention to the news, huh?”
Octavio gestured to the trees. “I tend to prefer my own observations.”
Cuttlefish shook his head with a smile, as if pitying Octavio’s ignorance. “Tensions are somewhat high between your folk and mine. The matter of land distribution is a hot topic. The border we stand on is a fine example.” He gestured to the deforested land on the inkling border. “Where you maintain forests, we see room to expand and progress civilization further. You see destroyed land on our side. Your emperor seeks to reclaim the land we haven’t built on yet and revitalize it, our citizens want to see more construction and progress. At present there’s no major action being made by either side, but the desire to incite an incident and settle things once and for all, before proper negotiations can be made, tempts both sides. Besides that, what criminals we do have may seek to cross for legal reasons.”
Octavio was silent for a time. “Do you think you would do a better job, if you were in charge of the situation?”
Cuttlefish stopped walking for a moment, processing the question. It seemed a heavy matter to him. “Perhaps. At least I’d be making more efforts towards that negotiation. Inklings tend not to like focusing on the negative news, so not much gets done about it.” He looked the octoling in the eyes. “Do you think you would do a better job?”
Octavio didn’t give nearly as much thought to the matter, and answered with conviction. “Yes. I would lead the people such that an incident would be avoided, at least on our part. And assuming someone like you lead the other side,” He grinned at the inkling. “I would do my best to work together towards a better future for both of us.”
Cuttlefish smiled, and stuck out a hand. “Well, general Octavio, I look forward to seeing your rise in power. Perhaps if we stick together we can truly unite forces in some distant day.”
Octavio accepted the handshake. “I hope so, Captain Cuttlefish. Unity is a noble goal, and if throwing my chips in with you would help us get there, then consider me your brother in arms.”
The two of them stood there, hand in hand and full of ambition, for about 5 seconds.
Then they laughed. Octavio gave his new friend a slap on the back, and said “Holy carp man, try not to ham it up so much. It’s not like we can really say anything solid about our futures at this point.”
Cuttlefish laughed a moment longer, before replying “I mean, sure. But you gotta admit, that’ll make a neat scene in our autobiographies, or at least to look back on.”
Octavio chuckled. “I suppose you’re right. I should probably head back to my home, I have training to do if I am to be eligible for a role in the military.”
Cuttlefish nodded. “I have another round to make, before I call it a day and head home myself. Good day, friend. I hope to see you again.”