Chapter Text
The young squid grunted as she struggled to flip over a large sheet of crumpled metal, momentarily cheering as she succeeded only to scowl the second she realised there was nothing worthwhile underneath.
Yellow malformed tentacles shimmered and quivered under the harsh sun covering the sandy and coarse desert. Unformed tenta-hands gripped onto her Splattershot Jr as best they could as the young Inkling surveyed the unforgiving sands of her home.
The yellow of her face brightened at the sight of another scrap pile a small distance away and she gasped at the prospect of something to aid her survival.
Small bandage-wrapped feet scutter across the harmful landscape. The hiss of further distant Turf Wars barely reached her causing faster movements to be made.
The young Inkling is reminded of a time recently getting caught in between a Turf War, to a city Inkling that wouldn’t be a problem but in the Splatlands there is little access to respawn points and machines. In the Splatlands a ‘turf war’ isn’t a fun game to play, it’s a Turf War; a battle for control over an area against another Inkfish.
They’re not fun and all the young Inkling can really recall from the experience is herself bunkering down and hiding under a tarp covered broken crate, waiting it out until she was safe enough to run away.
The next pile of scrap had a strange shape to it like it was purposely set up that way rather than dumped in that formation. It kinda looked like a dome if she stared at it from the right angle, she jolted as an ink shot sounded suddenly closer and she realised the distant Turf War was quickly becoming much less distant than she thought.
She scrambled around the mass of metal as she inspected it up and down for an entrance, something for her to squeeze into and hide inside for a while. A small grate half buried in the floor like it was trying to stay hidden from her and just big enough for her smaller body to fit through.
Adrenaline fueled her as the shots started getting even louder, she squeezed her body through the grate, leaving behind her SplatterShot Jr as she’s unable to meld it with the rest of her body yet due to her young age.
Just as she’s fit through she catches a glimpse of a green Charger shot not far from the scrap pile she’s now occupying.
The young Inkling shuffled away from the entrance and nearly tripped as she stood back up. A badly placed… rug caught on the paperclip used to hold her bandages together.
She scanned the inside of the shelter and realised it was clearly lived in: mismatched tables holding all sorts of junk, a beanbag with patches nearly covering the entire original pattern, clearly stolen signs leaned up against a wall, and an unmade bed or what could be more easily identified as a cot or pet seat at the farthest wall from the entrance.
It was a looter's dream.
She took a couple steps forward, ears still ringing from the outside battle, and sat down in the middle of what could barely be classified as a living space, light from the grate at the very top shining down on her.
She flicked her tentacle out of her face and quickly took assessment of her wounds from previous days.
A clean slice on her left tentacle and a bite cutting off the bottom of it.
Her brow had a chip in it, nearly cutting into her eye.
She undid all the wrappings on her feet and relaxed into her first real rest in days.
The splat of ink sounded much closer and she glanced back at the grate, only now noticing a curtain affixed just above it. The Inkling leaned over and pulled it to, hiding the bunker from the danger outside.
A loud ‘thwong’ rang out from the other side of the space and she immediately tensed up, standing and rushing her tenta-hands up in front of her chest for defense, suddenly missing her SplatterShot Jr that she had to ditch to get inside.
What she earlier dismissed as simply just an unmade bed in reality had been keeping hidden a blueish shaped adolescence like her behind it. It’s crouched shape indicating it having slipped in its attempt to hide from her causing the noise as it rested against the dome wall.
Piercing red eyes stared at her, unmoving and locked onto her presence. She was frozen, here she was in another Inkfishes territory, in their presence, and stuck inside due to the raging fight outside.
She knew she only had three options:
- Run back outside to avoid conflict altogether.
- Challenge the other for control of the space.
Or
- Attempt peace.
Her vision flicked around the area and snapped back to the crouched form of the other Inkfish, the red eyes stared back at her and she could see it slowly rising to meet her height in its display of dominance of the area.
She took in a deep breath, tenta-hands trembling, eyes squeezed, and within seconds threw herself forward onto the floor.
Dust rose around her as she landed.
Her knees ached and she could feel herself heaving as her chest spiked with a dull pain due to the force she threw herself with. She kept her eyes shut and hoped she seemed small enough to not prove a threat to the other, out of all the times she wished she was already fully grown she had never wished harder than now.
The ‘squid form’ she’d watched older Inklings take on would’ve been very useful in proving her innocence to the threat.
Soft footprints crushed the rug as the Inkling could hear the other coming closer.
A multitude of bangs vibrated the walls of the dome making her jump and muffled wail caused a cold chill to go down her back at the thought of the type of weaponry that could’ve even possibly made such an attack.
She could feel ink collecting on her forehead threatening to drip down as she squeezed her eyes tighter.
She feels like she's been face down forever, she could feel her tentacles forming dents as they lay against the dusty floor. She took a deep breath and slightly opened her eyes, the sandy ground faced her and she quickly flicked her view up to where she last heard movement.
The other Inkfish was mirroring her position and just as low as she was: equality, as best as they could both show it.
She knelt towards the other and reached out to touch them. The small gaps of sunlight that bled through the metal roof formed spots of pure light upon them, revealing what she originally assumed was dark blue to be a vibrant purple colour. She made contact and could feel their ink trying to seep with hers, she pushed the feeling away.
She pulled away as they tilted their head up, disconnected eyes looked up at her with what looked like two connected circles inside them trained on her.
Noticing more differences about them as the discomfort quickly faded away as she realised the other was also looking at her with curiosity.
They stuck a purple tentacle out towards her left head tentacle and quickly said “Weyo?” as they tapped it.
She responded in confusion, “Woomy?”, now it was their turn to look up at her confused.
She shook her head and pointed at herself.
“Veron! Woomy.”
A declaration of her name and she smiled at them as she finished.
They ignored her and grabbed her face suddenly saying:
“Ika! Ika! Ika!” as they stared at her teeth.
The Inkling pushed them away and reiterated.
“Veron! Woomy Ika?”
“Veron-Ika!” They pointed at her.
She paused and decided to give up on correcting them. She nodded at them to show she won’t press it anymore.
She then pointed at them and asked.
“Woomy? Ika?”
The purple Inkfish shook their head violently and grabbed one of their head tentacles, drawing attention to the sucker sitting atop on the outside. Then flicked their tenta-hand towards one of her head tentacles at the sucker sat on the inside and began swapping between pointing to hers and theirs.
At her:
“Ika.”
At themselves:
“Ocho.”
At her:
“Ika.”
At themselves:
“Ocho.”
She scrunched her face up as they continued. Pure confusion visible on her face.
She shifted her vision from them to herself, they are right, they do have different features. She thought back to older Inklings she used to see regularly, they all had suckers on the inside like her with connected eyes like her and she remembered they all smiled like her. The Inkfish in front of her had suckers on the outside, disconnected eyes, and their smile looks lopsided or asymmetrical.
She knows she's an Inkling- She suddenly realised what they’re trying to say.
They were still trying to explain to her, looking slightly frustrated as they jabbed at her tentacle.
“Ika.”
She nodded and grabbed their tentacle before they shifted to themselves.
“Inkling. Ika, Inkling!”
Their eyes gleamed with success as they finally came to an understanding.
“Booyah!” They both yelled and a sudden explosion from the outside helpfully reminded them of the danger they were hiding from.
They both stared at each other with a slight fear in their eyes as they smiled.
The other stood up hesitantly and motioned her to follow as they moved towards the cot.
Veron followed, keeping her footsteps quiet as she could hear louder movement outside.
They both sat huddled together on the bed with the blanket draped over them in an attempt to keep themselves further hidden from the battle outside the dome.
Veron turned to the other.
“Ocho? Woomy?”
She had been wondering from the start what their name was but it seemed the purple inkfish hadn’t quite understood her question as they shook their head up and down.
“Weyo, Ocho.”
She rolled her eyes and placed her tenta-hand over her chest, it was hard to see completely what she was doing because of the blanket but she continued.
“Veron-Ika, woomy: Ocho?”
It looked like it dawned on them that she was asking their name.
They then shook their head and used both tenta-hands to form a ‘null’.
No name?
She said as such: “Woomy?”
Ocho definitely wasn’t a name, and Veron had at least figured out what ‘Ika’ meant and had thought ‘Ocho’ meant Inkfish, so she decided she can’t just call them ‘Inkfish’.
She racked her mind for any sort of name she could give them.
She’s in their shelter, hiding in their bed, and in their territory; free from danger with no price or trade attached.
They had saved her from being thrown out and having to face the Turf War outside, almost like a Hero-
“Hiro! Woomy,” She exclaimed and pointed at them, “Hiro!”
They seemed to think it over, eyes rolling around in thought, and they grinned as they nodded in acceptance.
They gestured towards themselves and Veron.
“Hiro-Ocho, Veron-Ika!”