Work Text:
BLAM!
The inflatable squid appeared again after the cooldown. Headphones lowered her charger with a sigh.
The lobby was silent except for the few inkfish passing by. It was very early in the morning, so it would be natural for the place to be not crowded at all. She decided to spend her day there because Ammo Knights was down for a repair– they also never took in overnight guests either.
The sniper continued to shoot. After shooting a few more targets with her charger, she moved to a crate full of weapons nearby. Pulling out her Squiffer from the bottom of the box (when did she put this here?) after a good ten minutes of rummaging, she went aside and went into her usual trance while aiming.
…was the Squiffer this slow? She swore it was faster–
Maybe it was because she used the default charger for such a long time she forgot how to use anything other than that.
Still, that was a bit annoying.
Her hands shook while aiming the thing. Since when did her hands tremble?? This thing was her main, for sake!
She grumbled as she released the trigger and was faced with a line ending just before the target.
Right, the range of this thing was also shorter.
She scoffed and moved a little, assumed she got the angle right this time as she fired again–
…Missed. A few more times. Then those few times doubled by ten. She could feel the inkfish passing by staring at her and her foolish performance as if she just got a charger in her hands. She paid no mind, honestly she couldn’t care less.
They stared more as she kept missing and she felt the sense of irritation crawling up, a growl slipping past her lips.
No, no, she didn’t care. She didn’t care about the constant staring from the others as she fired again.
BAM!
She didn’t care about the concerned expressions some of them held as she missed.
BAM!
She didn’t care about the shocked and betrayed expression of Bobble as she missed again.
BAM!
She didn’t care about the dead look Goggles had when she punched him as she missed again.
BAM!
She didn’t care about the whispering right behind her ear as she missed again.
She didn’t care about the cold breeze trailing the back of her neck. She didn’t care about the cold brush of fingertips on her shoulder.
She didn’t care about how she kept missing this one fucking target and felt her frustration building up more and more and more–
It’s not fair.
Why am I bad at this?
I’m supposed to be good at this. I’m supposed to be an anchor. A support.
I’m…I’m supposed to look out for them.
I…I was supposed to.
Headphones looked at her weapon and at the ground from where she was perching on top of the grate platforms. Her gaze trailed over the many lines of ink, all around the same inflatable dummy, unscathed.
Gritting her teeth, the ink lines on the ground got blurry until they became nothing but a few blobs of neon blue and gray mixing weirdly.
She slowly raised her arms.
But I failed.
She heard a crack and looked on the ground, facing her beloved Squiffer broken in half.
She had thrown it…her weapon, something sacred to her and she just chucked it to the ground like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
I failed…didn’t I?
Even upon trying to reach out…even knowing I could help…I didn’t.
I never reached out back.
The tears were falling now, as she continued burning holes at her weapon.
I’m stupid. So, so stupid. I’m an idiot.
I feel sick. I hate this. I hate everything. I hate myself. I shouldn’t be here. I should've been stuck there. I should’ve been dead–
She doubled over and clutched her stomach. It was too overwhelming. The lights from above, the smell of ink, the blisters on her hands from firing too much, the noise, the whispers and the cold on her shoulders–
“Headphones?”
She heard someone calling her from below, but she was too nauseous to care, respond or look in the direction of whoever they were.
The sniper swayed in her place and felt herself falling from her perch to the ground below.