Work Text:
FAN-O-PEDIA
New Splatsville Turf War Stages Announced!
Yawn.
Squid Sisters' Car Broken Into During Concert!
Big whoop.
Off The Hook and Damp Socks Reach New Countries!
There we go.
Risa taps open the newest article and scrolls through, swapping over to the notes tab often. Her Off The Hook fan blog's skyrocketed in popularity since Final Fest: now she's also head of the Don't Get Cooked wiki, and she's gotten a few paying gigs writing articles about them. She takes another bite of her sandwich, checks that her mods have got the list of countries Marina and Pearl have played in updated, and bookmarks the article to read later.
Her phone alarm goes off. With a groan, Risa shoves the last bite of her sandwich in her mouth and clocks back in. Time to get back to work.
Sorting the paper recycling isn't the worst job in Inkopolis. She gets to do it sitting down, she gets bonuses every week for exceeding quota (really, this job could be done blindfolded, she maybe finds three things an hour that haven't been sorted right and it's just turning off the conveyor belt and picking them out and turning it back on), and no one cares if she pauses to rescue magazines with Off The Hook interviews or anything really interesting looking.
Like that. Risa switches off the belt and swims through the safety rail (going to the stairs takes too long). Oh, this is adorable: an Off The Hook pinata, obviously homemade out of newspaper and paint, and Risa gets everything started back up. Before she puts it in the mixed recycling, she takes a second to put it down and snap a picture with her phone. One more pic for her site's fan creations page, credited to anonymous.
Then it's back to her seat, absentmindedly munching the pretzels she was too busy to eat during lunch, watching the paper go by. Her Work Mix isn't that fresh, since she can't wear headphones and she can't play anything her managers would object to if they wander by, but Into The Light met their standards and when it comes on she lets out a big sigh and sings along.
Three more hours, and she can play turf until the mind-numbing boredom goes away.
Something catches her eye: plasticky cover, borderline recyclable at best, and Risa hits the stop button and squids through. She ends up fishing out a businesslike binder, thick, with very plastic pages. A scrapbook or old-fashioned photo album of some sort, and she pulls it out upside-down, so a couple pictures fall out; Risa stoops to grab them, too.
The Squid Sisters stare back at her, posing with a fan. Risa whistles. Dang, this must've been tossed by mistake, but it's her gain: squid sister pics, ones they take at events, easily go for ten or twenty each at auction. Though she'll be nice: if there's an address on this, she'll send it back. She gathers up the other two photographs first—each the Squid Sisters with a different fan, huh, wonder if it's a friend album or family album—and goes back to her chair, restarts the conveyor, before she opens it.
Ho. Ly. Squit.
FAN-O-PEDIA says the first page, an actual page, in fancy calligraphy surrounded by the sort of swirls she's only seen at stupidly overpriced stationary stores before, and in plain text at the bottom by Marie Cuttlefish. The signature's plain, nothing like the fancy autograph Risa got during her squid sister's phase when she was younger, and she finds herself touching it with a finger.
Risa takes a moment to raise her head and scan the recycling—good, all good, as far as she can see in both directions—then goes back to the book. It's divided into sections with those fancy cardboardy plastic dividers, the sort that stick out a little on the side, and for a second all Risa can think is Marie is such a dork. Well, let's see what's in here... she turns the page.
ANDERSON, it says on the top. It looks like a last name; the first part is covered in white-out, and beneath it, in a scrawl Risa's never thought an idol would have, Changed their first name at the last three meet-ups. Still likes their last name, though. Turf Name, BananaCrsh. Call them that. They/them, but questioning; check next time you see.
Pictures, too. Four on the page, each with a date, a time, a location, and a couple words, a shorthand Risa doesn't recognize, what they talked about: Risa figures out that Tower Control was discussed once, and his new sea slug (with the name spelled out, Silas). Bottom of the page is the squid's birthday, favorite color, and two of their splatfest teams.
Risa raises her head to scan the recycling, nothing she has to take care of, her head swimming. This is Marie Cuttlefish's scrapbook. It has to be. But... how?
A memory, an article she didn't read, swims to mind. Squid Sister's Car Broken Into During Concert. If a thief knew which car was theirs, broke in, grabbed everything, and sorted through it, well... selling a bunch of photos of random people would catch a lot of attention. Trashing it was the safer bet.
Risa hesitates, scanning the conveyor belt once again, then looks at the dividers. Each one is labeled with a letter. She turns to R.
Cod, some of these people have two or three pages, double-sided, devoted to them; they must have gone to all their concerts and public appearances. Sure enough, though, she's in there. A picture of her and her girlfriend, eating with Marie on team water slide during one of the Squid Sister's breaks. She felt so special then.
She was never lucky enough to eat with either member of Off The Hook during their time on the news, but this, a memory of who she was when she was younger, makes her smile. She still has her copy of this picture somewhere in her room.
Looks like she has to make a slightly different blog post than anticipated.
Two posts in one day? Who am I and what have I done with the
Off The Hook Fan Blog?
I know, you're all shocked, but I have to go a little off topic
here to talk about everyone's second-favorite idol group
(after Off The Hook), the Squid Sisters. Why am I talking about
The Squid Sisters?
Does anyone remember the news a couple days ago,
about their car being broken into at a concert?
The list of stuff taken included a huge variety of
expensive carp, but there was also the footnote of
'some personal items'. And some of you may recall,
from previous entries, that I work at Inkopolis
Paper Pro.
If Marie is reading this, or if anyone can contact
either Marie or Callie of The Squid Sisters, could
you let them know someone tried to improperly
recycle Marie's... based on the cover page,
Marie's Fan-O-Pedia.
It looks like she saved every picture
she ever took with fans. Like, ever.
I think she's gonna want this back.
COMMENTS
DCFan11011
You expect us to believe you found
something of Marie's in the trash?
You're just angry that Deep Cut's
so much better than OtH now
that they're off the news.
PearlOnAHook
What's this Squid Sister's Stuff?
Where's the OtH Content I've been
looking for?
TotesTrollinRollin
You seriously think anyone'll
believe you have something of
Marie's? Get outta here.
SquidSistersLove
Hey, uh, you said that Marie
kept all the pictures of fans?
Like, ever?
If I message you my real
name, could you scan and send
me a pic of me and them?
Mine kinda got ruined, and you
can use it as proof.
All right, with permission, here's one of the
pages scanned for you. I put some construction
paper over the things, like the person's real
name and the address their fan mail was
sent from and birth date (though it's nice
to see another person with my star sign. Us
turtles have to stick together.) Anyway, for
SquidSistersLove, here's a scan of your page.
It seems to have you meeting the Squid
Sisters when you were 13, and you eating with
Marie during the Night Owl Splatfest:
Seriously though, if anyone can get in touch with
The Squid Sisters, just to let them know I have it
and figure out a way to give it back, I think Marie'd
like it. Or not, but if she doesn't, I'm keeping it. It's
honestly kinda adorable. I never knew Marie cared
for her fans quite this much. Guess this is how
she always remembers everyone's names and squit.
COMMENTS:
SquidSistersLove
That's it! That's totally it!
That's me when I was, cod,
I think I'm gonna cry it was
SO LONG AGO my snail
ate my copy and just THANK
YOU!!! :,D
BstRnks
That's actually really sweet.
I never thought Marie had it
in her.
BluIsBest
I hope the Squid Sisters hear
about this!
OfficialCallieCuttlefish
Omicod, Mar's gonna flip when
she learns her thing is safe! Ur
DM's are locked. Wanna gimme
the key? We can totes meet!
Honestly, Risa was not expecting to be invited to the Squid Sisters house, but Callie insisted. “It's the least we can do for you returning this,” she said, while Risa stared at her phone and wondered if this was real. “I know you mainly run an Off The Hook blog, but you can interview us, too! It'll be good press, and just this once, you can publish any pics you get of Mar crying.”
In the distance, Marie shouted, “ No she can't, Cal! And I don't cry!”
“Ignore her,” Callie whispered, and then she got directions.
She really wasn't expecting somewhere so ordinary. Five miles from Inkopolis Square, just far enough to be out of the crush of traffic while still close enough to access everything fast, is an old neighborhood that looks like it's fighting the urbanization around it. Tall apartment buildings stand at corners next to squat single-story houses with neat gardens, ramshackle cottages side-by-side with... Risa has to squint at that building. Did... did someone renovate their house to resemble a squid?
Huh.
One last check of the address, 21 Agent Street, and Risa opens the front gate of a thin two-story house. It's utterly unremarkable except, she grins, for the color scheme. It's painted a completely ordinary, boring green, but the fake-shutters, the poles holding up the roof of the porch, the trim, and the roof are all bright pink.
When Callie opens the door, Risa still does a fast double-take. She's never seen the idol with her tentacles in a fancy braid behind her, wearing a tank top and jogging pants. “Hey! Risa, right?”
“Yea—um, yes, that's me,” she says. She holds out the binder. “I brought—”
Callie grabs her by the wrist and pulls her into the house. Risa yelps as she catches herself and follows Callie into a perfectly normal entryway, with a shoe shelf by the door and a number of hooks on the wall with jackets hanging from them. Several of the hooks are labeled with pictures: stickers of Callie and Marie each have four dedicated hooks, it seems, but others are marked with stickers of dualies, salmonid, caution signs, and a mountain. “You can put your stuff here,” Callie says, indicating an unmarked spot.
Well, looks like she's doing this. Risa takes off her shoes and slots them below the hook, then hangs up her jacket. “It's very nice to meet you, Callie,” she says, offering her hand now. “I thought...”
“We know what you thought,” interrupts Marie, and Risa turns to see her standing at the end of the entry hall, dressed up in... is that a kimono? “Honestly, the whole thing is embarrassing, but Cal pointed out everyone was really hyped up about the whole thing online.”
“I told you your fanopedia was cute,” Callie says, bouncing a little, and Risa sees a flash of—is that a tattoo? It's gone before she can see clearly, Callie tucking in her shirt. “Did you know,” Callie turns to Risa and drops her voice, “Marie's made those for friends of ours, too? Birthdays, most played weapons, favorite restaurants...”
Marie covers her face with one hand and groans.
“She checks them all the time, too, you should've heard her panicked about losing the fanopedia when we'd finished giving our statements about what was lost.”
“Cal, please...”
“'What if my fans think I don't like them? What if I don't remember any of their names?' What if this, what if that, and I kept telling her that none of them expect it, but--”
“Callie!”
Risa sputters a laugh. “I promise, I'll send you both a copy of whatever I wanna post before I post it,” she says. “Nothing will go up without your ok's.”
“Thank cod,” Marie mutters. “Though, this won't really be an interview, exactly.”
Callie clucks her tongue. “Fine, I'll leave you to it. You're staying for lunch though, right Risa? I've got some Seaweed Stew cooking, just like Gramps makes it, and there's always way too much for two people.”
“Uh, sure,” Risa says. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but this sure wasn't it. What does she mean, not an interview?
Then Callie pushes past Marie and is gone, and it's just her and Marie, her hair done in her signature bow and blushing. “Sorry about... all this,” Marie mutters. “I mean, I know I owe you a lot of thanks for... is that...”
“Yeah,” Risa says. She holds the book out to its rightful owner. “Yeah, this is your book.”
Marie takes a step forward and takes the book from Risa's hand, runs her hands over it, and opens the front cover. She pages through it, then stops. “I thought I recognized you!”
“I knew you did,” Risa agrees, grinning, “by the way you put 'OTH Fan Blogger' with a question mark in pencil. And you put down when I won that costume contest, the group one.”
Marie laughs. “I was impressed! Anyway, lemme give you the tour. I could give you a good interview, but Callie argued that, well, you've seen the fanopedia, so...”
“So?”
Marie shakes her head, closes her binder, and leaves the entryway. Risa follows.
“We used to just have a three-bedroom apartment,” Marie says, “but we wanted to spread out, and I insisted on a better security system. You only got in the gate because we saw you coming and Cal deactivated it, but the cameras, motion sensors, all of that's still online.” She laughs, then. “At least once a month Cal and a couple of our friends get hyped up on sugar and decide to see if they can break in, and I have to call and tell the security company no, it was a false alarm, the inkling hanging upside-down from our roof isn't a burglar...”
Risa sputters a laugh. “You have interesting friends.”
“I run interference,” she says. “Also, half the time it's Pearl on the roof.”
Oh, cod, Risa laughs loud and long at that one. She can see it in her mind, too, Pearl being lowered down by—no, Marina probably has too much sense to get caught up in that, maybe it's Callie holding her legs.
“In any case, here's the living room,” Marie says, waving at the room they just walked into. “Down that hall is a closet at the end, a bathroom, my room, Cal's room, and a guest room. We're not going down there. Over here's the kitchen,” she says, and Risa follows her through the door.
She doesn't think Marie's even noticed the way she's hugging the binder to her chest. It's like watching an inkblot with a favorite stuffy, and she's having a hard time not smiling.
“Downstairs has the best soundproofing money can buy,” Marie says, indicating a door just off the side of the dining area. “It has a half-bath, a small room I use for recording radio episodes for when I can't do them live, and our practice room. All our instruments, microphones, you get the idea. Come on, we're going upstairs,” she says, pulling the door open, revealing a set going up and another going down.
Risa's outright grinning as she follows now. Cod, Marie really is holding that binder like it's a favorite toy! Okay, Risa, don't stare. Do not stare. Marie's already shifting a bit uncomfortably; don't make this worse for her. Everyone knows Marie's a private person, from the way she deflects questions about her personal life to how carefully she portrays herself in public; she can't push.
“Okay,” Marie says, once they're both on the top floor. “Just the three rooms up here. One on the left's got some workout equipment; the one on the right's for Callie's... I don't even know anymore, I gave up trying to figure out what she's doing in there a while ago.”
Risa smiles and shakes her head. “That sounds like Callie.”
“Well, she tried taking up sewing once, so there's probably thread in there, and knitting, and she went through a drawing phase—I think that one stuck, she's actually pretty good—and a painting kick, and I think she tried pottery?”
“Ohhh, that must've gone everywhere,” Risa says.
“I'm pretty sure that's why she had to replace the tile, yeah. Anyway, come on, this is my museum.”
Her museum?
Marie opens the door, but waits for Risa to enter first. And when she does, Risa's jaw drops.
Her museum
of fan art.
On the wall by the door are framed picture after picture, many of them in crayon, drawings of her or her and Callie or her and someone else, sometimes completely unrecognizable except that she's green, sometimes so detailed Risa wonders if she can commission the artist. She moves around the room slowly, noting that they're organized by who gave them to her, then some secondary system she doesn't immediately recognize. There are also display cases, in rows through the center, for art that isn't pictures: clay and playdoh, an 'I Love Marie' mug, what looks like a handmade Marie doll. “Wow,” Risa says.
“So,” Marie says, and Risa looks back at the door to see her standing there blushing. “You can write, well, whatever you want about this room for the blog. None of the reporters know about it, so you're gonna be the first and only, it'll probably get you paid gigs. You're good enough for it. Oh, and I got you tickets to the next Off The Hook concert, and a hotel room and transport set up, so just. Meet me for lunch when you're done. You can take photos, if you want.”
Marie takes off before Risa can find her voice, and that's fine.
She looks around the room, pulls out her phone, and opens to her note-taking device.
She owes the Squid Sisters big time for this.
The door opens. “Oh, and, thanks again. For bringing this back,” Marie says. And once again, she's gone before Risa can reply.
