Archive of Our Own ^beta

Vintage ran his fingers excitedly over the trigger of his weapon, the grin on his face hidden by the Annaki face mask he'd equipped earlier to hide his face. He rarely participated in splatfests due to his reputation, but he couldn't resist sometimes, and simply disguised himself during them, making excuses and lying to his team about his whereabouts constantly. Sure he felt a tad guilty about doing so, but it was well worth it. It was currently a re-run of the Trick vs. Treat fest, and he'd easily picked team Trick. He almost picked Treat, however, until... He was shaken from his thoughts by the sounds of the match starting, everyone racing from their spawnpoints to the middle, sides, everywhere. A 100x battle. His team this splatfest shook with anxiety and excitement, hands tightly grasping weapons. It was messy, colourful, fun. Vintage was enjoying himself so, joy sparkling in his eyes, posture revealing how much fun he really was having. He grinned as he quickly tore through the enemy team, pulsing orange ink littering the path ahead of and behind him. He'd taken up playing weapons other than his trusty Ballpoint in his spare time, meaning; when he snuck into turf wars without anyone knowing it was him. Tonight, he'd brought with him a Neo Splash-O-Matic. It was such an easy weapon to handle, and allowed him to perfect his aim, maybe even show off on occasion, but all-in-all, it was so much more fun than being trapped to one weapon, simply because he was known for strictly using that weapon. He was more flexible than everyone thought, more emotional, more everything. He called for one of his teammates, smiling in relief when they actually came by. It was time to push forward and win this match. Leaving their other two teammates to ink and watch behind them, he and the random headed towards enemy spawn, splitting up every so often to splat enemies. When the random got splatted by surprise, one of the other teammates merely superjumped to Vintage, quickly moving to take their place. He'd been battling with them the entire splatfest, learning their names along the way. The octoling that had just jumped to him was Heatwave. She and her friend Truffle were notorious for their love of the Stingray special, and their matching headgear. "Golden Toothpick" is what they'd said it was, and Vintage was merely awestruck. He'd never seen such headgear before, and wondered where on earth they got those. The last on their team was Neo. She had a temper shorter than Vintage, and even he'd admit that. She'd been the one up in the frontlines with him, clearly shouting in anger in the back with Truffle, who simply teased her and laughed at her. At the last minute mark, and many stingrays later, Neo finally traded places with Heatwave, having activated her Tentamissiles earlier. Now that the two slayers were up front, Truffle and Heatwave were able to do their signature move. At the exact same time, two massive beams of orange shot towards the enemies from behind him and Neo. Double Stingray. The bane of everyone's existence. He could almost hear the two laughing as he and Neo made quick work of the remaining enemies. 30 seconds remaining. He looked to Neo, and nodded to her. She nodded back. 20 seconds remaining. He jumped back to Truffle and Heatwave, allowing them to advance further and cover higher grounds he hadn't been able to reach himself. 10 seconds. He found himself almost weeping. It felt good to have fun sometimes, no matter what he said or how he acted. 5. He quickly activated his special, splatting someone who managed to slip by the two Custom Jet mains and the Kensa Dualies main. 4. He finally understood what he'd been missing. 3. He'd been so blind. 2. He was missing something so vital. 1. He was missing happiness and enjoyment in what he did.

GAME SET!

He didn't need to look to know the results, but he still did, cheering loudly when he saw they won 80,2% to 13,7%.  He glanced at Heatwave and Truffle as they exited the tower, noticing that the former of the two was literally weeping. He tilted his head in concern and confusion, Neo promptly doing the same as soon as she noticed. "Sorry... It's just... That's the first 100x I've ever gotten... I just can't believe we won." She explained, a smile on her face. "Well, duh! 'Course we won! We had Orca on our team!" He grimaced briefly at his fake alias, but quickly replaced that feeling with pride. "I'm flattered, Neo, but we all made a huge effort. If it wasn't for Truffle and Heatwave I don't think we would've done nearly as well. You did your part too, Neo. Good job everyone." His voice was bursting with happiness, a stark contrast from the voice everyone knew. The voice of Vintage. Cold. Emotionless. Piercing. "Of course, we carried." Truffle teased lightheartedly, obviously joking. "Yes of course, the Custom Jets carrying 2 slayers." Neo laughed, promptly followed by the laughter of Heatwave and Orca. He wasn't Vintage right now. He was someone better. Someone with friends. Someone people actually liked, rather than admired out of fear. He almost flinched when he felt Neo roughly pull him into a side hug, grinning widely. Oh right. The picture. Heatwave and Truffle were definitely smiling wider than he thought possible, and he imagined it must make their faces ache. Click! He was briefly bewildered, then instantly remembered, cursing himself for being so distracted during that moment. Oh well. "Hey, what do you guys say we go get some food from the crust bucket? Like uh.... A victory treat!" Neo said, not waiting for an answer as she stomped off. She was always stomping, he'd noticed. Probably because she liked the way it sounded when her boots came down on the ground. Heatwave and Truffle, however, walked rather quietly. They were both usually quiet unless they were taunting each other or bickering over silly things. He smiled and shook his head, following the three girls, unaware of the pair of eyes watching him. Unaware of the one person he couldn't stop thinking about. Unaware of the one inkling he truly regretted hurting so badly. Unaware of Skull watching his happy form retreat to hang out with people. Unaware of the hurt in the kraken's eyes. Unaware of the blind squid beside the kraken attempting to comfort the other. Unaware of how they'd been watching him earlier as well. Ignorance was bliss this time, and he'd be glad about that if he knew. But for now, he had some food to eat and some friends to talk with. Someday he'd tell the three who he really was, but not today. Maybe when he was finally forgotten as Vintage, and could instead be remembered as Orca. 'That's it.' He decided with a nod. 'That's when I'll tell them.' And he swiftly dug into his food, grateful that since he wasn't coating his face in makeup to hide blemishes and marks to make himself more publicly acceptable, he was less easy to recognize. The scar on his face was hard to hide, and he didn't like to hide it. It's what made him who he was. Every little mark. Every scar. Everything. It was everything that made him himself, not the celebrity figure everyone thought he was. He was not Vintage, and that's what he'd finally realized tonight. Vintage was unhappy, made for one thing, and feared, and he didn't want the anymore. He wanted friends. He wanted to be happy. And that's exactly what he was right now.

Calloused hands gripped firmly on the handle of the heavy, shining golden roller. Rider huffed, turning sharply to try and catch the targets with a swing, but missing as he staggered, head reeling. He cursed loudly, punching himself in the side of the head as though that would help him, wincing immediately. Shit. That was his bad side. A horribly high pitched ringing was sounding in his right ear, blocking what little noise he heard from it, and the pounding in his head made it feel like it was going to explode. He stumbled to a wall, and promptly slid down it, sitting on the floor to catch his breath and recover, with his dynamo by his side. He knew why this was happening. He knew exactly why. He just hated thinking about it. He reached up to gently touch the ice cold scarring on his face, wincing in pain immediately. He found that odd. Normally he couldn't feel or move the right side of his face, but right now it was tender and painful, and he was hyperaware of everything happening there. He could feel crawling and tingling, a searing, fiery pain, and the blinding colour. A sickly cyan. He never liked that colour, but now when he saw it, he felt sick to his stomach. He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. He had no idea why he was even here, since he wasn't allowed to participate in battles anymore. After his special limiter was forcibly removed, he was practically invincible. He had access to every special now, with no limit to how many times he could use it at a time. He didn't even need to charge it up. It was fun, however, to battle his friends only and make them suffer through that, since they all ended up laughing about it in the end. But then he'd remember the terror on their faces before, and suddenly, he didn't feel like being outside anymore. He got calls from his team a lot, worrying about him since they hadn't seen him in so long. It was heartwarming, yes, but it also made him feel even more disconnected. It reminded him of how he'd nearly killed Goggles and Hachi. Nearly let Inkopolis be destroyed.

The buzzing in his mind was getting overwhelming, and he felt a pain in his eye.

What would've happened had he not been shaken from the grips of the hijacking? What if that damn phone still had control of him? He swore he still heard it sometimes. He had his friends describe him as looking zombie-like lately, with bags under his eyes, his posture no longer tall and proud, his slow, sluggish movement, and his blank, dead stare. He'd freaked out at Goggles once for scaring the shit out of him, simply by coming up on his right side. He'd never said a word of his reduced senses, due to shame and paranoia, but now everyone who was there officially realized. He was a little thankful, honestly, since they tried to make a conscious effort to come up on his left side if they had the chance. He could make exceptions if they literally had no other choice and it was important, but small talk initiated by him being startled? No thanks. He'd of course told his team though, since they deserved to know. He knew he needed to stop leaving them in the dark on things. Stealth had been stuck in shock for awhile, and he felt bad for saying anything to the octoling. They'd become close over the years, and Stealth clearly felt horrible for 'letting that happen to him.'

He reached up, beginning to claw at his eye as the pain increased, whines and hisses of pain escaping him.

He remembered waking up awhile after they left the metro. Goggles had been overly ecstatic, which unfortunately resulting in him having a tic attack. Hachi had been relieved. Headphones had ended up worrying herself to the point of passing out, while Specs was stuck awake, anxiously waiting for both his best friend and Rider to be calm and awake. Bobble had been in the middle of reassuring Specs, but the first to notice Rider was awake. Nana, Pony and Burns barely even knew him, but were happy that Goggles and Hachi were happy. He'd been bewildered. Overwhelmed. He'd instantly covered his ears and shut his eyes tight, trying to make the noise and light go away. It was all so loud. So bright. He knew his head felt like it was being pulled apart to pieces at that point in time, and wished he could've said so, so he didn't have to see everyone's hurt faces as he scrambled to get away, into a dark and quiet spot. He'd ended up at his apartment, hiding in a pitch black closet, on the verge of tears from the horrible agony he felt in his head. He could feel it again. Pounding. Crawling. Screaming.

Tears spilled over from his good eye as he curled into a fetal position where he sat, the agony becoming far too bad, but he continued to claw at his other eye desperately.

The paste had been ice cold, but left him feeling fiery burns at the same time. If he remembered anything, that was all. Man was he grateful he'd been in Inkopolis for so long, since he tended to feel mentally paralyzed, and Stealth always told him he'd shambled his way to the tower like a zombie when that happened. He didn't even remember going there was the thing, but he didn't dare say it aloud, instead choosing to laugh the octolings comment. He usually just came to watch his friends' matches, even if they did get a little too loud. Hell, he even watched the S4 battle together a lot now, much to their surprise. He actually did consider them friends, even if he butted heads with them a lot. It's just how he was. Goggles had let the metro events (including what happened to Rider) slip, however, when Rider was questioned about the sickly blue scar that coated the right side of his head, spreading down his neck and partway down his arm and half beginning to spread to his chest. And then Aloha was promptly threatened to be skinned alive if he said a word to the public. You know why he heeded the warning? Because Goggles said it. Nobody was sure if it was just a tic or not, and nobody really wanted to know. He did, however, remember noticing that Mask's eyes lit up at that. He knew the two butted heads a lot, and assumed they were currently fighting over something or other.

He could feel a liquid oozing from his face now, the pain increasing tenfold, making it so he was unaware of the echoing steps in the training room, which promptly rushed towards him.

He was briefly aware of someone gently pulling his arms away from his face, and some faintly saying his name. He refused to open his eyes. In his mind, he was back in the metro. Back in the place where he'd hurt them. Seeing the fear on their blurry faces. Hearing scrambled sentences in his melting mind.

The new figure promptly sat beside Rider, waiting to make sure he didn't hurt himself further. It was the most they could do. They adjusted their glasses, worry gracing their already anxiety-stricken features. "I'm here with you, Rider." They said, gently squeezing his hand in an attempt to comfort him best they could. The disgusting lime-cyan ink that was dripping from the others face was enough to make them gag and look away, sadly, but they quickly glanced back when Rider firmly gripped their hand, nearly crushing it basically. ".....I'm... I'm sorry..." Their frown turned deeper at Rider's choked voice, and the gently stroked the top of his hand with their thumb. "It's okay... It's all okay now... We all forgive you..." It didn't take a genius to realize what Rider was struggling with at the moment, but pnly if you'd been there. Specs had barely been able to see, but he'd heard everything. From Nana and Headphones panicking, to Hachi and Goggles struggling against Rider. He'd personally had his own issue as well. One he refused to speak of. He'd been caught back in the metro, and given a dose of the sickly fluid. Right in his leg and neck. Sometimes that leg would give out on him, and it always hurt. Sometimes he'd be unable to breathe. Sometimes he got horrid migraines. Sometimes his body moved on its own. There was staining scars, similar to Rider's, always reminding him. He stopped wearing shorts, choosing to wear pants now instead. He'd changed his gear as well, besides his namesake. He was jolted back to reality by Rider sighing. "Shit...." He quickly looked over, worry in his eyes. "You feeling okay now?" Specs said gently and slowly, trying not to speak too loudly. "Huh..? Oh... Fuck... Yeah.... When'd you get here..?" Rider furrowed his brows, wiping the ink from his face with a grimace. "I'd say around 7 minutes ago? Not super sure." He offered a half smile, and Rider sighed again. "Better than other times... Fuck... I hate this Specs. I hate what happened. I hate what I did. I hate it.... I hate myself." The words left Specs hollow with shock, and Rider full of grief and anger. "But Rider... You... You had no control of what ha-" "I KNOW! And that's what i hate so much about it!" His voice was harsh and raspy, making Specs flinch away and wince. "I should've had more control. I should've resisted. I should've-........ I should've protected you all better...." The blue cephalopod hesitated before speaking, not once letting go of Rider's hand. "Listen. I know you regret it, I know how that all feels, but sometimes... Sometimes you just don't get to decide. It's something everyone has to experience at least once. Sometimes you don't get a say in what happens. Just feel pride knowing you saved us from a worse fate." Specs paled, his smile turning to a grimace at best at the thought. A blender. How could they have all been so stupid and careless? Not to mention him getting caught before finding Goggles and the others. "But I could've... I could've gotten everyone killed... Inkopolis destroyed... Everything ruined..." The yellow-green inkling mumbled, voice betraying how he felt for once. "I know... But you didn't. Can you tell yourself that? That even though that happened, you still never truly hurt anyone? Because Goggles and Hachi forgive you. They keep talking about how worried they are, and you know Goggles never stops talking anyways." He'd managed a lighthearted joke at the end, a halfhearted smile on his face now, proud to see a small smile gracing Rider's face. "Yeah..... Yeah, I do know.... I feel... Bad for pretty much disappearing on you all... Do you think maybe we could go see everyone?" He managed to spit it out, and Specs smiled. "Yeah, of course! Let me see who's not super busy right now real quick...." He pulled out his phone, and Rider finally took in his appearance. He'd swapped to a red Zekko hoodie alongside some moto boots.... And at his side laid a Fresh Squiffer. He quirked an eyebrow at that, but promptly smiled, realizing that the other was simply trying to branch out so he could cover his team better when he needed to. He'd seen him in solo q lately, and watched him slowly climb the ranks, not once ever using the same weapon. He'd seen him using a dynamo once, and resisted the urge to nitpick his technique, solely because he'd still won the match. He was one of the few that had seen his progress. He was jolted back to reality by the blue cephalopod speaking again. "Welllll.... Goggles and Hachi, alongside the rest of their teams, are definitely not busy. In fact, I think Goggles just tossed aside their battle together just to see you." Rider noted that Specs didn't seem to involve himself in the blue team anymore, despite having founded it. He promptly grimaced, a thought crossing his mind. "If that pretentious yellow fuckwad shows up, make sure he watches his tongue. I will NOT hesitate to break his beak." Specs chuckled and nodded, quickly typing up a message and snickering after. "'Those are fighting words. Be ready to throw hands, Rider.' Cod. Why does he sound so formal and weird even over text." Specs murmured the last part to himself, but Rider caught it and laughed. "Because. He's even more of an idiot than you guys. No wonder he fits in just right with you." He teased, and Specs let out a gasp. "I am not an idiot, thank you very much! Tsk... Anyways, wanna get going now?" He said, standing and looking to Rider, who promptly stood as well. He towered over the other still thankfully. "Yeah. I gotta get Emperor off his high-horse asap." He laughed, grabbing his dynamo and leaning it on his shoulder. He and Specs promptly left the training room, laughing and making small talk. 'Maybe I could make it all better after all' Rider thought to himself, half focusing on Specs' chatter. 'Maybe I'm not so bad anymore.'

Specs couldn't remember a time he'd been this exhausted. Every muscle in his body ached and protested as he slammed the Rainmaker on the podium, letting out a soft 'Booyah' to himself as he did so. It was his 3rd KO this rotation, but he knew he could do better. As the results were shown, he grinned slightly in pride, relishing his splat count. 21 splats. He glanced at the Fresh Squiffer in his hands, pride still present on his face. It was the first time using this version of the Squiffer, and by cod, he loved it already. To believe he used to struggle in these modes, stuck to only one weapon class. Branching to Brellas had been his first step in the right direction. His favourite so far was the Sorella Brella and the Undercover Brella. He stumbled slightly when his leg gave out on him for a second, but promptly regained his composure, trotting out of the tower happily. He was S+9 in Rainmaker, so close to ranking up, yet still... Nobody had noticed. Not a word, not even a glance in his direction. Maybe it was because he'd changed how he looked so much? Since he had changed all his gear and even his hairstyle, just to show that he was taking a fresh start. That's what he liked to think. His feet brought him to The Crust Bucket, and his mouth watered slightly. He was tired, and decided he'd earned a little snack at least. Crusty Sean always knew what he ordered, and within minutes, he was seated at the furthest table, picking away at his food as he checked his phone. Vintage had conquered the entire previous rotation yet again, and Specs felt envy fill him. What was it like to be so high up there? Calm and collected? He remembered his first S+ match. It was easy, considering he'd nearly had a panic attack. His sweaty palms had made him lose his grip on his Grim Range Blaster several times, and he'd gotten splatted an embarrassing amount of times. But he still pulled through, and it was still a fond memory. The first time he'd truly been proud of himself. Glancing back at his phone, he noted that he had several notifications, and one quick glance made it obvious it was just random app notifications. Well. Mostly those. A couple were actual messages to him. Well, moreso just the groupchat of Blue-Per and the S5. He sighed as he opened his messages app, quickly glancing at the messages, grimacing as he went back too far and saw all his ignored messages. He rested his head on his hand, eyes half-lidded as he stared at his phone. No doubt he looked bored. That's exactly how he felt. He wondered it Vintage felt that way too, but shook off the thought. Vintage still had a proper team. He hadn't been replaced and forgotten. A quick glance at the chat made him grasp the situation. The original S5 wanted a rematch with Blue-Per. Army said he wanted a chance to battle them, and Mask agreed to spectate the match this time. He briefly wondered how it'd turn out, and even considered showing up, but died a little inside at the thought. It just proved how disconnected he was from them now.

mind if i spec too? <Specs

Rider> yeag surw

haha so hilarious <Specs

Aloha> ikr??? see Mask even he thinks im funny why dont you

At that point Specs stopped paying attention, instead sparing a glance at who was in now sitting across the table from him. An inkling with a bowl cut, an Annaki mask, black hoodie, and Orca hi-tops. What he noticed was their startling red eyes. Reminded him of Vintage, if he was honest. He quickly tensed and looked away when they glanced up at him, instead acting preoccupied with his phone. "...I know you were staring at me." Specs inwardly groaned, glancing up at them, but unable to make proper eye contact. Was he really that obvious? "Hey, aren't you the guy who skyrocketed up the rank board in a week?" They suddenly asked, and his face promptly turned a shade of magenta. "Whu- Huh?- Oh- Yeah, I guess I am?" He stammered out, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cursing inwardly at how he'd made it sound like a question. The other laughed heartily at his fumbling and awkwardness. "You aren't sure? So you're not Zekko himself then?" He audibly groaned, covering his face with his hands. "I AM Zekko. Jeez... Who are you?" And how do you even know I exist? He left his second question out, instead choosing to focus an expectant gaze on the stranger. "Ah, I'm Orca. Pleasure to meet you face to face, Zekko." Even with the mask, Specs could tell this Orca guy was smiling. "So! I've had a burning question for awhile now; do you even have a preferred weapon? I noticed you never use the same weapon more than 5 times per rotation." Orca mused, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his head on his hands. "Ah- Yeah- I like... The..." Fuck. He did not have a preferred weapon anymore. Well... He didn't mind the Kensa Octobrush??? He could say that... "... The Kensa Octobrush." He managed to keep his voice from wavering there, much to his surprise. "Oh wow, really? But... You just have so much more skill with different weapons... I-I'm not meaning to be rude or anything, i-it's just an observation-" "Ehhh you're not wrong, so it's fine. I just have a soft spot for the brushes because that was what I started out with." He said with a halfhearted smile, face hiding his nervousness well. "Oh.. Wow. It's just such an awkward weapon... I have no idea how anyone uses it." Orca admitted, embarrassment clear on his face. "I could... Maybe give you some uh... Pointers if you want...?" Specs offered, trying not to break his collected and calm mask. Orca seemed to brighten up at his offer and promptly nodded. "Please do! I really want to prove to Truffle and Heatwave that I can actually use more than just shooters and splatlings..." He explained, which earned a chuckle from Specs. "Well first of all............" And as he began to ramble, he noticed the eager expression on Orca's face, indicating he had his full attention. He nearly faltered when he realized that, and a warm pride blossomed in his chest. He was finally the one someone looked up to. At least for now anyways. Soon, however, they had to part ways, but they exchanged numbers as they did so, and smiles they couldn't wipe from their faces all the way home. Orca had to pretend again when he got home, unfortunately, but Zekko was finally feeling comfortable in his own skin. Enough so to call himself by his new name in his thoughts. He'd wait to be powerful and famous to reveal who he truly was, however. It'd be a shock to everyone. He'd show them all just how amazing he was. Just how worthy he was. Just how powerful he was. Zekko was just a front to hide his anxiety. Hide it until he was ready.

He hadn't seen his old team in months, so he promptly changed to different gear, combed back his hair, and headed out to go spec their match. He wondered if any of them had changed. Maybe Headphones had finally gotten her dream haircut, or maybe Bobble had finally found the perfect shirt. Maybe Goggles had found a better weapon. He had to admit that after trying it, the Splattershot was definitely not his favourite. As he saw the stage come into view, he sighed. They hadn't changed. Because they didn't need to, unlike him. He jolted in surprise when he felt Mask prod his shoulder. "You fiiiiiinally showed uuuuup. Cmooooon. Theyre about to staaaaart." His droning monotone voice gave Specs headaches, but he still nodded, and joined Mask in overlooking the match. Rider seemed a little nervous he noted, and he understood. He had a few special rules that he still had to ink the right amount in order to use a special, and he had to limit himself to his current weapon's special. The gold dynamo. Ink Armour and splat bomb. It was nice for pushes, keeping the enemy backed up with its range and damage, alongside swift but powerful bombs, and armour to protect the slayers up front. But Army's weapon also had ink armour. He frowned a little at that, noting that Blue-Per did not have that advantage. Skull's weapon was great when used with cover from your teammates, and beakons alongside Bubble Blower made it a team weapon. The Kensa .52 Gal was an interesting weapon. When the splash wall was used correctly, it was formidable, and the Booyah Bomb helped the Bubble Blower stop any potential pushes. They had ideal weapon compostion, so here's to hoping they didn't bicker. Blue-Per's weapon comp wasn't amazing by any means, but it still worked. Their problem was that they did not have a skirmisher. He had been that role as a brush. He started the fights so the others could end them. Instead they had 2 slayers, a utility, and an anchor. Sloshers were so niche, and could easily be countered by rollers. Chargers depended on their teammates as much as their teammates depended on them. When 2 of your teammates are frontliners, it forces you to move forward as well if you don't have proper range, which would put Headphones in dangerous positions. Emperor's cockiness as a dualie main would not help him either. Once Army makes him waste his dodges, he's easy pickings for Skull. Goggles may be fast, but hes no match for a K. Gal driving him right into a dynamo swing.... "...You seeeeem to analyze thiiiings as much as Army noooow." Shit. Had he been speaking aloud? Well... No going back. "Hm? Ah, well... I can't help it. Now that I'm stuck in solo q, I've learned to analyze as much as I can. You have to know everyone's weaknesses and strengths to get anywhere." He mumbled, now watching colours explode all over the stage. Exactly as he'd said, Goggles had been driven right into one of Rider's swings by Aloha, who booyah'd to the grouchy dynamo main. Army managed to push the cocky dualie main known as Emperor right into the sights of Skull, and a satisfying shiiing! Sounded out. Bobble was easy prey for Rider, and Headphones easily got picked off by Skull. Mask gaped behind his namesake, casting a glance to Specs, who simply appeared bored. Their spawns were de-synced, and now the S5 were making a push. As he'd guessed, the double Ink Armour was put to use, with Skull and Aloha rushing forward to activate their specials while they had armour. Skull quickly retreated after using his special, a wise move on his end, Specs noted with a smile. He had the slowest charge time possible, and most importantly, he was using a scope. He wouldn't have been able to see Emperor trying to sneak up on him, but by moving back, the dualie main was gone in a snap. Blue-Per had been backed into their spawn with one minute remaining. Seems Army had realized the same things as he had. Blue-Pers special comp was the only phenomenal thing. Stingray, Tentamissiles, Inkjet and Splashdown. When paired right, they could wipe a whole team. It felt like hours before the match ended, with the S5 having an overwhelming victory. Specs stood with a sigh, and nodded to Mask, who was still dumbfounded by how he'd predicted the match like that. To believe he used to be part of a team like that. Oh well. Maybe they'd finally take him seriously when he could crush them like ants. He smiled wistfully at the thought as he headed back to his home. Oh how he wished it didn't have to be like this, but it was necessary to finally get the attention he craved so badly. The recognition. The title. He had gone from leader to nothing more than seafood scrap. But now... Now was his turn to turn them into nothing but scraps. He chuckled as he seamlessly entered his home, ready to rest and start a new day of progress. Soon they'd realize. Soon.

'It's not even that bad. You're fine.'

That's what he always told himself. From the hour he awoke, to the hour he finally fell into the clutches of sleep. It was fine. The screaming lectures were mandatory, as he just wasn't trying hard enough. He just needed to do better, that's all. He was the problem here, he just needed to figure out how so, so he could fix it. This week he was visiting his mother and stepfather, and it was a little more enjoyable than being with his father, but still was not all that great. She found ways to nitpick his every action and behaviour, exploding into anger at even the slightest little thing. He was happy Prince didn't have to deal with either parent currently, as he had managed to snag a chance to spend a few nights with Goggles and his friends. Emperor turned silently onto his side, eyes staring blankly into the darkness ahead, barely illumated by the small alarm clock which read '03:14'. He sighed softly, rubbing his eye with one hand. He didn't like the sudden changes in his schedule everytime he visited his mother. It was annoying and made him neurotic. Things had to go according to plan or else he'd be at a loss. Speaking to N-Pacer of that had gotten him strange looks, making him shrug it off and dismiss her attempts to speak. It wasn't a big deal, he was just being dramatic again. Eging always commented that his smiles seemed forced or "fake", but he always sent him a look that easily made him shut up. He loved having that power over others. It beat how his childhood was, always having others forget he existed or talking over him. Giving him odd looks when he tried to join in on the fun and jokes. Reprimanding him for "being rude." He wasn't rude, he was honest! He grumbled softly, turning over onto his back again. His thoughts gradually drifted to his first ever turf war. The expectations of his father had not helped. He had been so... So overwhelmed, and embarrassingly enough, he cried after, despite winning by a huge margin. Of course he was quiet when he cried. He learned his lesson that it was weak and stupid, and just proved he wasn't as powerful as everyone thought him to be. He couldn't ruin his image like that. Never. Not in a million years. He noticed Prince still cried a lot, which, oddly enough, left him feeling envious. He didn't understand that, honestly. Why was he jealous that his younger brother could cry with hesitation or fear? He should be proud that he'd grown numb, proving that he was better than his teammates. But.... They weren't really his teammates anymore. With a sense of relief and dread, he quickly began to realize he was losing the power he held over others. He didn't even lead his current team! He couldn't control them, he didn't control any of the situations. It was all random and loud, which left him reeling, desperatrly trying to hide how overwhelmed he felt at all of it. He should just been glad they usually came out of it victorious, with a few exceptions. The most recent was against the X-Blood, which had been embarrassing to a fault. He was ashamed to admit he'd grown too upset after, and ended up breaking a few of his belongings. That had quickly gotten him a... Scolding, to put it lightly. He brushed his fingers over the faint, barely visible scars on his forearms and hands, noting that while they were slowly vanishing, they were still a little puffy. They were very old, however, so he didn't feel nearly as much shame as he used to about them. He hid them with ink proof makeup when he went out to battles now, not wanting anyone to see how low he'd sunk back then. He just hoped Prince never turned to it as well, and had sneaking suspicions that he couldn't bear to voice. He could remember how it had felt, however. Relaxing. Enjoyable. Even through tears, watching the wounds bead with blood was enough to soothe him. It was disgusting to him now. He couldn't believe he'd been like that. And the scolding he'd recieved the first time his mother had found out. He had to tell her the second time out of fear. Fear of her finally completely snapping at him. He didn't dare say a peep to his father, and didn't particularly trust his stepfather with that, however kind the man had been to him. He shut his eyes, feeling the familiar sting and the lump in his throat, trying to will the tears away and succeeding. Maybe he should just sleep. Sleep and forget. Tomorrow was a new day, maybe he could prove his worth then. Until then, he'd try and at least do something right, and finally sleep. If his mind calmed down enough for that, that is. He let out a soft, wistful chuckle, and forced himself to relax, waiting until sleep finally pulled him under. No doubt he'd wake up in only a couple hours, but hey, some was better than none. He'd learned that the hard way.

You're fine. Go to sleep. You just need to change who you are a bit more, then they'll finally be proud. Then they'll finally truly love you. Then they'll finally respect you and your power.

The snarling voice of his father was what made Prince scramble to attention, hurrying downstairs to attend to what he'd apparently been asked to do several times. He didn't recall the man ever saying such things, but then again, he didn't recall anything prior to right now. Try as he might, there was nothing. Emperor was always the one to keep him on track of everything, ensuring he never forgot anything even though he himself forgot many things. One time he'd asked his older brother if he remembered something in particular that they had both been present for in their childhoods. He'd felt strange at the empty, confused look Emperor gave him, alongside a response of 'What? That never happened.' Something was wrong with him. Something was wrong with both of them. And their father made sure to drill that into their heads. They were lazy. Ungrateful. Pathetic. Prince felt his eyes water, and quickly tried to swallow them down like Emperor always did. He always did chores since it was the most fitting punishment he could be given. He wasn't a "good recipient" to scoldings, so those were reserved for Emperor. The booming voice of their father always terrified him, and he didn't understand how Emperor was so... Unbothered. Eging and N-Pacer had never experienced the full extent, but had witnessed their father snapping at Emperor. He explained it away as it was necessary, when their parents had questioned him. Eging Sr. had immediately taken the answer, and Prince had looming suspicions of what went on between Eging and his father, but... N-Pacer's mother had still held her doubtful look. She had glanced over to Prince who had simply been doing things in the other room, unintentionally eavesdropping. The question she asked had filled him with dread. "Even mandatory for your youngest?" The way his father had tensed has left him trying to nonchalantly get as far away as possible. He didn't hear anything after that. He'd gone to his room. And stayed there until morning. He didn't have dinner. Neither did Emperor. They were fine with that. Well. Prince was at least. He didn't want to be near that man for longer than necessary. He recalled the dread he'd felt this morning when he shakily told his father his plans for the week, and the way his face had twisted into one of frustration and disappointment. The man was tall, muscular, and incredibly intimidating. Little knew of his past life as a jailbird, except Emperor, who was subjected to their fathers constant mood swings more than was considered healthy. He'd heard Emperor crying in his room a couple times, including after their loss to the X-Blood. One of his walls had a hole in it, and Prince had removed any of his fragile belongings, placing them in his own room. The mess of glass and other materials was a nightmare to navigate, alongside Emperor curled on the floor, staring angrily at nothing. He flinched when someone snapped their fingers beside his head, and turned to face whoever it was. It was Eging. He furrowed his brows briefly in confusion, and something caught his eye. A fresh bruise. Right on Eging's eye. He didn't get a chance to speak before Eging repeated himself. "Ok, good, you're back to reality. So. Your bro told me you had plans, huh? He also told me he was visiting your guys' mother, and he didn't recommend you come back here 'til he did." Eging spoke softly, glancing around a little nervously. It was odd to see him like that, Prince noted silently. He then realized he had to respond, and he promptly nodded. He had no qualms with not returning until then, and he was sure Goggles' grandma wouldn't mind. "Alright! Anyways... When are you headin'? I gotta let mr. sunshine n' rainbows know." Eging laughed at his "nickname" for Emperor, and Prince frowned. But... No words came to him anymore. He didn't... He couldn't speak. Nobody needed to hear him. He was nothing but a shadow of his far more successful brother. Instead he held up 3, then 10 fingers. 3 hours. 10 minutes. Eging took a minute to decipher, then nodded, trotting off to go find Emperor. Prince breathed a silent sigh of relief. He didn't know if his father was watching, or anyone who worked in the manor for that matter. He went right back to his daily chores after that, wanting to get them done and overwith so he could go hide again. He rarely spoke nowadays, and it took far too much to get a word out of him to be worth it. The only people who could get words out of him easily were his father and brother, due to them holding the power of intimidation over him, and Laceless and Goggles. The mere thought of Laceless brought a smile to his face, same with Goggles. In Laceless' case, it was because he made Prince feel important. Feel in control. He was beginning to understand Emperor a bit better now because of it. With Goggles, however, it was hard not to be entertained by the squids antics. They never failed to make his day better, intentional or not. But he did see that despite being around him all the time, Emperor had difficulty truly smiling. He could tell at this point. He knew Emperor better than anyone else, and even then, he was certain there was even more to him. He glanced at the clock. Only a couple more hours. No biggie. He was almost done. It felt like an eternity before he was finally finished however, and by then, he only had around an hour left of free time. He quickly put everything away and silently dashed upstairs, stumbling near the top and nearly falling. He paused to regain his composure, and quietly trotted to his room. It was bright in there, but barren if you ignored Emperor's belongings that had been stored in there. He much preferred his curtains open, overlooking the phenomenal garden outside, but he always closed it when he left the house. He glanced outside, shying away when he saw his father talking with a few strangers. He'd never liked strangers. Never. Not after what happened. He didn't want to hang out with their kids. They were older and bigger than him. They had control over him, and Emperor had been kept away by his father gloating emptily about his skills. The older kids had touched him in places he did not like, invaded his space and privacy, laughing when he expressed discomfort, saying that he "should be glad they thought he looked nice." He wasn't glad. Now he understood why Emperor had so vehemently insisted on being alone. He'd thrown fits over it as a child, usually getting yelled at after by whichever parent. Their mother was manipulative, hypocritical, and most of all, she not once ever believed either of them on anything. Their stepfather, however, had been a surprisingly kind man. He hadn't the kindest childhood, having been disowned and kicked to the streets at a young age, reliant on his own skills back then and still reliant now. But he'd been patient and understanding with them. Emperor didn't understand it, but Prince did. It was because their stepfather understood where they were at mentally and emotionally. However... When their father got full custody was when things started going downhill. Emperor slept less and less, Prince had no free time, and was afraid to interact with strangers. N-Pacer and Eging still made him a little fearful, especially Eging. N-Pacer was beginning to take on more of an 'older sister' kind of role to both of the brothers, while Eging was Emperor's best friend. Or well. Eging said that's what their relationship was. But when Emperor described it, he just said Eging was a friend. The way he said it... It made Prince start to focus on their dynamic more. He quickly realized why Emperor kept anyone around. He had them wrapped around his finger, being there at his every beck and call. He had no idea if it was intentional or not, but he knew he'd been victim to the dynamic years ago as well. He sat on his bed, fingers brushing over the soft blankets gently. He liked how they felt. How they hid him from the scary world outside. A notification from his phone brought him to reality quickly, though, and he scrambled to answer. Ah. It was time to go. He grabbed the few things he packed, drew his curtains closed, and quietly crept out of his room and downstairs, managing to slip outside undetected. It was thrilling to be at peace whenever he left the house. Once past the front gate, he saw Goggles and his smiling grandmother. The older inkling was so kind to everyone, and he loved being around her. She made him feel safe. Quickly climbing into her pickup truck, Goggles instantly started a conversation with him. He didn't quite register what it was about, but it kept his mind busy as Sunny drove off. This would be a nice week, he told himself in his head with a smile, laughing at something silly Goggles said.

Soft footsteps padded towards the backdoor, which was opened quietly, and closed just as gently. Forge slowly shuffled her way over to the woods behind her house, having been careful to not awaken Army as she left their shared room. The two had been inseperable as children, and at some point in time, Army had been adopted by her parents for reasons Forge hadn't understood then. She realized now, but didn't dare start a conversation about it with the orange octoling, as she didn't want to upset him at all. She knew exactly what upset him at this point, and he knew the same for her. Except he didn't know her little escape from the world. The thing that kept her disconnected from the stress, the pressure, everything. He had no idea of her little garden. She smiled softly when the familiar plants came into view. She'd picked a cleverly hidden spot on her parents' property, so nobody except her could find it. It was off to the left of the treehouse she and Army had built all those years ago, and still went up into sometimes. That was their safe space. The spot they could go to to get away from prying eyes and listening ears. Sometimes W-Sailor and B-Sailor would come by too. It was where they could be honest and relax, feel no need to stick to social rules. W-Sailor had been Army's friend, and they had met B-Sailor through them. White and Blue had been childhood friends since infancy, and the 4 quickly grew close. Army, however, had been afraid to show his true species, so Forge taught him how to perfectly hide it. She sighed as she kneeled beside a patch of orange tulips, her favourite of the all. The weather had been particularly wet lately, and she tried to ignore the stinging in her knees from the soaked grass. Getting to work on weeding the flowerbeds, she let her mind drift. Things had drastically changed. Army had grown more confident in his identity recently, and so had White, the latter of the two recently coming out as nonbinary. They had been accepted with open arms and warm words from the whole team, but a few others outside their little group were still a bit snarly towards them. There wasn't much anyone could do, however, when someone as tall as Forge was glaring at you for calling her friend horrible things. Army finally stopped hiding his octoling heritage, instead embracing it as more octarians began to appear in Inkopolis. But the thing is.... Their group started to drift apart slowly. All of the S4 teams appeared to be doing the same, except maybe pink team. She frowned, plucking a wilted tulip carefully. It was just like her group. Dying. Moving on. She wasn't angry, no she was happy that everyone was beginning to become more comfortable and gain more friends, but she was also sad. Sad that her few friends were leaving her behind in the process. She had difficulties making friends, let alone conversing with strangers properly. She couldn't handle being too near others, and was terrified of being caught in crowds, hence her ideal weapon choices. She wanted to be far away, in the comfort of her own zone with a few people she considered close. Her parents hadn't been all that keen on her being so antisocial at first, but soon realized that it was really just severe anxiety. They allowed her to wrap herself up in books when she wasn't studying, having decided to thankfully homeschool her and Army. Army was actually older than her, funnily enough, he just wasn't very tall. And he of course, despised that, beginning to wear platform boots to appear taller. It had made Forge laugh without fail for the first bit, but after their first defeat by the blue team, he'd stopped wearing them. She realized now that that had been his first step towards accepting himself and loving himself. She had comforted him countless times in the middle of the night, when he confessed his insecurities and worries. She sighed, standing again when she finished weeding, then glancing over her flowers. They had grown into overwhelmingly copious amounts making it hard to walk through the garden without nearly crushing a few of them, and it gave her an idea. What if she gave everyone their own personalized bouquet of flowers? Anonymously of course. She couldn't even bear the mere thought of having so much attention on her. And with that, she promptly headed back home to get the necessary materials. Mostly plastic wrap and ribbons, alongside paper she could use to indicate who what bouquet was for, and what each flower meant. When she got back, she noticed Army sluggishly trudging to the kitchen, tentacles hanging over his face, and eyes glazed over and unfocused. She laughed softly, taking off her boots and walking over to him. "Good morning, sleeping beauty." She teased, ruffling his tentacles which promptly earned a whine from him. "Foooorge... Stop thaaaattt..." Army's soft, sleepy voice filled the silence, and a warm smile came to her face. "What, I can't say good morning to my brother?" She mused, walking ahead to make them both some coffee, as Army plopped himself down at the table, grumbling to himself. A spoonful of sugar and a dash of milk in Amry's coffee, while hers was all black. As she set the piping hot mug on the table and sat down, she began to try and pry bit of information out of Army without seeming too suspicious. "So, how have you and the S5 been doing? I hope all's well." She said slowly, taking a swig of her coffee, not noticing the burning of her tongue or lips. "Well... Aloha's been getting on my nerves on purpose it feels like... But he seems to be getting along better with Mask at least...." Army squinted,resting his head on his hand as he thought. "...Skull's been getting better, and so has Mask.... But Rider keeps disappearing for days on end, only showing up when prompted by Hachi's team or the blue team..... I keep forgetting that Specs is apart of their team now, since he is almost never with them. He did show up to spectate our match, but left immediately after, and Mask told me he'd completely predicted our victory, with only a few mistakes. It's like he's been... Y'know... Dammit... What's the word again?" "Practicing? Improving? Analyzing?" "Improving! I think... I don't know Forge. Now that I think about, he pretty much got kicked off of his own team that he created when he got injured. And Emperor joining in his stead was what had truly ejected him from the group. Rider is pretty much a sub for us, taking one of our places when needed... But... Specs was just left in the dust. Rider told me that just a few days ago he'd seen him in the training room with a Squiffer of all things. It's so strange Forge." She had listened intently, many ideas coming to mind. First on her list was Specs. For sure. "Maybe he has been trying to show you that he still exists? Maybe he wants back into his old team, but just doesn't know how to go about it?" She suggested, eyes flicking over to the sunrise shining through the window, illuminating Army's pale face. It was far too easy to tel they weren't related by blood, but if anyone asked, they called eachother brother and sister. Army hummed in response, clearly considering it, then finally took in her appearance. She obviously appeared tired, since she had trouble falling and staying asleep. "Hey, maybe you should stay home today?" He suggested gently, eyes warm with concern. She looked to him, hearts melting at that. "Ah... Alright. Just because you said so." She said softly, reaching our to lightly hold his hand. She was someone of few words, while Army was one of many. It was amazing they were so close and that they spent so much time together. Army gently squeezed her hand before they both withdrew from the small sign of platonic affection. "I have practice with the others today, and I don't know when I'll be home. I'll try to make it home for dinner." He promised her, and she nodded, noting that they'd finished their drinks as she stood and collected the empty mugs. Her mother had made them actually. She loved to do pottery in her spare time, and it never ceased to amaze Forge, since she seemed to come up with such amazing things on a whim. She'd made Forge a vase for the flowers she occasionally brought home, since she of course knew of her garden. She felt guilty keeping it secret from everyone so she told the person she knew would love it the most, hell, she'd even shown her the garden. The amazement in her mothers eyes had been enough to leave her smiling all day, no matter what had happened. She carefully washed the mugs, staring down at them as she heard Army stand and head back upstairs. Probably to go get ready. She smiled to herself. It felt like just yesterday he'd been clinging to her, fearful of everything, hiding from strangers. She'd felt so protective then, and still felt protective now. She dried the mugs and put them back away, turning back to the table and grabbing a small notepad from the counter, alongside a pen from her overralls pocket. She sat down, quickly beginning to write herself a small shopping list, alongside a checklist of everyone she had to make a bouquet for too. Specs was at the top, while Aloha was at the bottom. He'd hurt her brother more than he let on, and even though she knew it was for the better, she still couldn't forgive him for doing so. Nodding to herself, she promptly began to plan the bouquets, putting a lot of thought into each one. Each flower should mean something important. A positive, a negative, and something neutral to tie it all together. Of course, it was a little limited, but not by too much. Enough so that a few would get some of the same flowers, but not too much that there'd be exact duplicates of bouquets. She barely noticed Army saying farewell and leaving for the day, but jumped at the sound of the door closing. Well. It was time to get to work. She stood, grabbing her list, her boots, and tying her tentacles up as she loosely hung her bag from her shoulder. It wasnt a big bag by any means, but she also wasn't picking up anything all that big either. After double-checking that she had everything, she promptly left, locking the door behind her. Seems Army forgot to when he left.

As she trotted down the sidewalk, she glanced around, refusing to dwell on thoughts lest she grow anxious and forfeited her plans. People had such lovely flowerbeds in front of their homes, but a few needed some work. Had she not such a harsh fear of people she would have done services as a landscaper, rather than being apart of her brother's team. She grinned when she saw a bumblebee floating by lazily to the next flower. She loved bees, even though Army was (reasonably) terrified of them. That was another part of why she started her garden. Bees. They made her happy. Hummingbirds too. Occasionally birds had landed on her when she was sitting idle in her garden for too long. She couldn't complain. It was interesting. She made her way to the bus stop, just in time as the vehicle in question stopped to pick up its few passengers at that particular stop. She made a half-dash and practically swung herself onto the bus, nearly tripping up the steps. Most of the public transit workers knew her by now. Half because she always took public transit, half because she was sort of famous. She eventually found an empty seat, and promptly sat down. She'd get off once she was in town, and go on foot from there. It wouldn't hurt to get some exercise in this morning, even if very little. She pulled her bag onto her lap and rummaged through it, pulling out her earbuds and phone, and promptly plugging her earbuds in. Turning on her phone she saw a few notifications from team orange that she chose to ignore for now, instead opening her music app and choosing a random song to listen to. She closed her eyes for a moment, sinking into the music until she felt the bus pull to a stop and a presence sit near her. She peered open an eye, and to her surprise, it was Straw. She turned down her music when the pink girl turned to look at her. "Oh! Hiya Forgie!~ Where ya headed?~" Straw chirped, cheerfulness radiating off of her in strong waves. Forge sat up straight, back and limbs going rigid as a familiar lump began to form in her throat. To be polite she paused her music and took out her earbuds, but took a minute to respond. "..Ah. Just out to town to pick up a few things. Nothing too crazy." Straw giggled at that, and Forge looked away awkwardly. "Well I expected that much of someone like ya, Forgie." Forge sighed. Yeah. Of course. She was boring. And that nickname was getting on her nerves too. "Please, if you're going to bother me, then at least don't call me 'Forgie'. It's such a strange nickname and it's getting on my nerves." She said firmly and tiredly, still staring ahead. Straw stared at her blankly for a second, smile disappearing momentarily, before she returned to her usual self. "Alrighty Forge." She hummed quietly in thought, eyes drifting to Forge's phone and earbuds. "What were ya listenin' to?" Forge looked down at her phone and turned it on. It was just some random piano track she'd found and liked. "Classical music." Straw made a face of exaggerated disgust and Forge nearly laughed at it. "That's laaaaaaame. Why don'tcha ever listen t' somethin' real fresh? You n' your team man, y'all are so BORING!~" She could tell Straw was just exaggerating. They all knew at this point that the whole team had varying levels of anxiety and fears of trying new things. Army was more adventurous than any of them and even then he was very cautious. "Don't be like that, Straw. It's not that bad. It's relaxing. It lets you think for once. But I don't think theres much thoughts for you to have, is there?" Forge cracked a small smile and a soft chuckle, and Straw let out a loud dramatic gasp. "How could ya Forge? I thought we was friends! How could ya insult me like that!?" Straw scoffed, crossing her arms and looking away, clearly trying (and failing) to stifle her laughter. "I can't believe ya would do this t' me Forge. I go outta my way to talk t' ya n' ya just insult me like that?" Despite the fact that Straw was clearly (well clearly to most) joking , forge still felt her anxiety spike, making her look at her lap and fiddle with her fingers. "..Sorry." She mumbled, swallowing the lump in her throat. Ah look she screwed up again. Why'd she even leave the house today? She shouldn't have even come up with her little plan. "Woah woah woah- Forge I was kiddin' ya, it's okay, really." She jumped when Straw rested a hand on her shoulder. Great. Now she felt like an idiot. She couldn't even tell when someone was joking or not. How stupid do you have to be for something like that to happen? She gnawed on her lip lightly, blinking rapidly to try and keep the tears at bay. Not in public. Not in public. Not in public. Never. Never cry. Don't do it. Don't. She flinched when Straw grabbed her hand, gently rubbing it with her thumb. "Hey, hey... It's okay..." It's clear this wasn't Straw's forte, and Forge would've laughed if she wasn't terrified of accidentally bursting into a full on anxiety attack at the moment. She just shrugged in response, swallowing down the lump in her throat and glancing out the window, looking anywhere but at Straw who stared at her in worried silence. She felt the bus pull to a stop, and quickly realized it was hers, which led her to abruptly stand and mutter a quick apology and farewell to Straw before hurrying off. Alright. It was time to get to work. She began walking with a purpose towards the nearest strip of stores, falling into a familiar rhythm and no longer paying much mind to her surroundings, as she watched the ground, her mind began to run over her list again, only to be interrupted by (quite literally) bumping into Aviators. Lucky for her, the nozzlenoze main was quick to grab her hand and keep her upright. "Woah there. You good?" Came his familiar deep voice. "Yes, sorry Aviators." She responded quickly, pulling her hand away. "You sure? You seem a little... On edge?" "Ah... Just a run-in with one of the crazy pink inklings. That's all." "Oh, understandable." Avi chuckled, putting his hands back in his pockets. "Anyways... What are you doing out and about? Looking for Skull again?" She inquired with a half smile, finally looking up at him. She always felt oddly comfortable around Avi, but maybe that's because he's pretty much a mom friend to everyone he considers a friend. "How'd you guess?" He responded sarcastically, smiling and laughing as well. "Oh, you know." She managed a laugh as well, before glancing around, seeing a familiar purple inkling headed towards the candy store. "I think I just saw the guy you're searching for heading towards the candy store." She smiled, and he chuckled again. "Ah Hell, what'd I expect of him? Anyways, I better go make sure he doesn't accidentally steal something again or get lost after he leaves, thanks Forge, seeya 'round sometime." She watched the tall male walk away, before resuming her path. Maybe she'd have the chance to run into a member of the cyan team, but she deemed that unlikely. Wouldn't be here, that's for sure. She promptly entered the store she was looking for, and the owner waved at her warmly. It was a quaint little place, very quiet compared to other shops in the strip. It connected to the library, too, which was an added bonus in her opinion. While scouring around, she froze in her tracks at familiar voices. Damn. She just couldn't catch a bream from those pink maniacs, huh? Well, at least Mask was present to level out Aloha's over the top nature. Aaaand... Who else was there? She glanced over, seeing a strange inkling with bright yellow eyes, and a spiky haircut. Hey... Wasn't that Fierce? What was he doing around those two? Her question was quickly answered by Goggles' excruciatingly loud voice cutting through the air sharply. Ah. He must be hanging out with Goggles. The two probably just ran into Mask and Aloha. She quietly squeaked in surprise when Goggles looked right over at her, and called to her (quite loudly might she add). "Hey look it's Forge!! Hey Forge!!! Whatcha doin' here??? Makin' faggy shit? Er- Crafts! I meant crafts! Sorry!!" Goggles always seemed to falter at his strange tics. It was clear to most that they took a toll on his psyche, made it hard to be optimistic for everyone. Most didn't mind it, despite how jarring it had been to hear the blue squid curse for the first time. Forge could admit she'd had to do a doubletake at that. She meekly nodded, only steeling her gaze into a glare when Aloha met her eyes. The pink boy promptly looked away awkwardly. "Yeah... Something along those lines." She looked away, finally spotting what she needed and grabbing it. "Ooooh! Whatcha gonna make???" "That's a secret, sorry Goggles." She laughed, turning to go pay for her collected items. She could hear Goggles pouting behind her the whole time, and Fierce having a good chuckle.

When she got home, she was almost too tired to go out to her garden and go collect flowers, but a sight of her list made her quickly hop to it. Everyone deserved a little happiness, no matter what they did to affect her negatively. Even Aloha deserved a little gift. Upon bringing the flowers back in her baskets, she quickly went to work on preparing the bouquets. She was highly aware of Mask's hay fever, so she tried not to add too many flowers, just enough to get the meaning across. His had the most filler, that's for sure. Everyone else, however, had a pretty large amount of flowers, and it made her smile. She'd have to find a way to drop all these off today, however, and quickky began brainstorming. Well... Guess it was time she finally put her bike to good use. She could attach something to carry the flowers too. She nodded to herself, collecting all the bouquets and putting them into groups. She promptly began writing on the cards who they were too and what each flower meant. It was the least she could do if she planned to stay anonymous. She'd even prepared herself one just so she wouldn't be suspected as the only one who didn't recieve one. Once finished with the cards, she quickly attached them to the grouped bundles, and trotted to the garage, wheeling out her bike and a weird little trailer she could use with it. At least it had a cover. Quickly, she migrated all the flowers to the trailer, covered it, and hopped on her bike. Time to make haste.

When she got home, dusk had fallen, and she was exhausted beyond words, barely able to stay on her feet as she made dinner. Just in time, as she heard the door open, and the sounds of Army, Skull and Avi. She glanced over, and smiled at the 3, feeling happy when Army smiled back. "I hope you don't mind them joining us for dinner." Army said evenly, sliding to sit at the table silently after having taken off his boots. "Not at all." She smiled, turning back to face the food. She was a decent cook. The food she made was at least edible, if not tasty. She rarely burnt or undercooked foods by accident. She was knocked from her thoughts by the sound of a thud, an 'ow' from Skull, and Avi and Army laughing. A glance over at them revealed that Skull had just hit his head on the doorway. Ouch. She smiled, snickering softly and listening to the 3 boys begin to converse softly as Skull sat down. It had her thinking. She really felt like a mum right now, and it kind of scared her. Yeesh. The older she got the more overbearing and reserved, huh? Within a few minutes, Army had set out the tableware and Forge had set out the food. Avi made some passing remark about how "fuckin' amazin' it smelled." and Skull just nodded in agreement, with Army nodding as well, simply staring at Skull. Forge glanced between Army and Skull, eyes lingering on Army after as a knowing smile came to her face. 3... 2... 1... When Army looked at her, his face turned bright orange, and he glared with as much anger as he could manage. Forge just laughed, and went to serve herself, still a bit concerned about how her brother was already smitten again, and this time with such an airhead. She just didn't want him to get hurt again. She sighed, watching the others eat. Avi was definitely just a slow eater, but Skull.... Everyone knew he wasn't, so it was strange to Forge to just see him picking at his (very little) amount of food. Maybe he'd already had his fill of sweets earlier? Probably. She glanced to Army, who had begun to tell her about his day, with Avi or Skull piping up every so often, with Avi thankfully not mentioning he ran into her earlier. It was nice. Better than silence, that's for sure.

Come the end of dinner, Forge and Army bid farewell to their friends, and began to tidy the kitchen, putting away the leftovers in tupperwares as pre-made meals for lunches and the like. That made Forge realize she forgot to eat lunch earlier, which probably explains why she was so much more exhuasted than expected. As she began washing the dishes, she began to speak. "I know you've got a crush again." "WH- I DO NOT!-" "Army you're so bad at hiding it." She laughed, listening to him stammer and sputter in response. "Don't worry, I'm sure only me and Aviators are really all that aware currently." She smiled, setting aside the dishes for Army to dry. "Alright. I'm gonna go to bed now. Oh yeah, somebody left us bouquets for some reason? Would you happen to know anything about that?" She said passively as she left the kitchen, leaving a confused and still rather flustered Army behind. She climbed the stairs, shambling to their shared room and getting changed quickly and slipping into bed, relishing the comfort and relaxation it brought. Tomorrow was gonna be interesting, that's for sure.