Chapter Text
Siphonophore: Colony of specialized organisms that function together as a single animal. Each individual unit can perform a specific function independently, but none can reach its full potential alone. Only through connection and coordination can the individual parts become something greater, turning into a unified organism capable of achieving what no single part could accomplish on its own.
Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…
Moving across the water was a boat. A fishing boat to be exact.
The sound of the little netter’s engine purred from under its seaweed-smelling deck, carrying the rusty carcass it was encased in across the vast expanse of blue waters in hopes of reaching its destination. The barnacles and algae stuck on its underside formed intricate patterns of spiraling sea life, giving the vessel a nearly half-organic appearance. Some spots still bore the marks of former marine clandestine passengers, having since then gotten nabbed off the hull before getting cooked for a couple of evening snacks.
Rust that went from bright orange to dark brown was coiling around the whole vehicle, painting large strokes of metallic filth over it to the point it was hard to tell that the thing had originally been painted in blue. The trawl where nets were meant to be attached had its cable fully retracted, the old pile of misery’s reason for being out on the sea not having anything to do with catching rogue Salmonids for once.
At the ship’s helm was the captain. Though, that title didn’t exactly mean a lot since he was the only crew member aboard. He was an old crab with a hardened shell full of scars, the majority of his growth having clearly gone to his upper body and claws, which were currently holding the ship’s steering wheel with a firm pinch. A marine hat sat between the long and thin eyes he had protruding from his body, not having a proper “head” he could place it down on. The coat he was wearing had to be incredibly large to be able to fit him, and even then it still left his bare crustacean chest for all to see in the front, which nobody could tell if it was muscular or not given that it was covered by his shell.
The crab captain glanced through the bridge’s back window, looking at his only passenger, who was currently observing the sea with her arm propped up against the boat’s railing. He blinked with his crustacean eyes at her figure, grumbling to himself before focusing back towards the brackish waters. How could someone like her handle being this close to the sea? He thought Inklings were meant to be deathly scared of water, yet she didn’t seem to mind being surrounded by it from literally every direction.
In any case, whatever questions he had died the moment she showed her what she was willing to pay for the trip. And in cash too. He still found it suspicious that someone this young could be carrying such a sum around, but he’d be damned if he was going to refuse his services to an actual paying customer. They were practically a novelty in his line of business.
The captain pet the sack of G’ the squid had given him for the journey, which was propped up on a table next to him inside the bridge, right beside a bottle of 20 year old “Seafoam Syrup” one of his cousins had gifted him for his birthday. Since he was in a good mood, he chose to take a sip, freeing one of his claws off the steering wheel to grab the bottle to down all of it. His mouth opened to let the sweet nectar pour into his throat, the captain’s shell making clicketing noises as his body shivered in satisfaction at the wonderful taste.
But, as he placed the empty bottle down with a loud thud, the captain’s eyes suddenly leaned forward like little sensory organs, noticing something far off in the distance. It was a thin strip of land stretching out over the horizon, the yellow colors of sanded terrain reflecting the sunlight with great intensity. He sighed at the view through the badly cleaned windows of the bridge, before picking up a microphone embedded into his control panel and putting it near his mouth.
“Attention all passengers,” he spoke into the device with his gruff voice, “we will be arriving at the harbor in a few minutes. Please gather your belongings to prepare unboarding the vessel immediately.”
The captain heard the Inkling laugh from outside the bridge, saying something about how she was the only one aboard, her words being muffled by both the wind and the boat’s engine. He agreed with her of course, but he wasn’t about to break the most basic of protocols out of mere laziness. Whatever those who gazed at his ship might’ve said behind his back, his standards hadn’t fallen that low just quite yet.
A few minutes later, the coastal line was now much more visible than before. The sky was even clearer than the water the boat was going through, not having the slightest trace of a cloud present to impede upon the sun’s domain during the summer. Though the season was ending, it was still raging on quite strongly in its last moments, letting people enjoy some nicer temperatures between the heatwaves and the colder ones that’ll come later. A perfect middle ground for everyone to feel motivated towards changes in their lives, no matter how big or small.
Not that the captain would’ve known anything about that, of course. He was too busy trying to keep himself afloat (financially and literally) to think about all that complicated stuff. Perhaps that kid back there had come here for those kinds of reasons, but that was for them to care about once they were on land. Not him.
Suddenly, his radar picked up something moving fast towards him from the coast. He raised an eyebrow at the blinking dot on the little screen next to him, picking up his spyglass to gaze in the direction It indicated. A few adjustments later, and the captain could now see that it was a pretty fancy boat that was closing in on him. Long. Sleek. White paint. Fully motorized, and a big flag attached to a pole on its rear. The crab’s mouth clicked as he recognized the symbol etched on the fabric.
“Ah, snaps. Coastal cops.”
The crab captain sighed, not even having to bother turning on his radio to know that they were probably asking him to stop. He turned the key to the engine to power it down, the low hum coming from under the floor eventually becoming silent as the boat fully slowed to a crawl. Now without any means of propulsion, the vessel could only sway in the waves like a lost plank of wood, its barnacle-ridden hull getting caressed by the waters as it waited for the other ship to arrive.
Opening the door to the bridge, which was honestly an honorific appellation given how cramped the room was, the crustacean captain walked onto the deck in a perfectly lateral manner with his spiky legs, not straying his long eyes away from the approaching vessel. Its engine was loud. So loud he could already hear it from twice the distance his own would’ve been noticed at. It made the captain wonder how any amount of ocean-wandering criminals could get away from such high-speed predators lurking around the piers and ports of coastal cities.
The captain heard the Inkling approach from behind, asking what was happening.
“Sea fuzz is here,” was all he answered, “so don’t make a fuss if you wanna get to where you wanna be, got it?”
The captain’s eyesight let him see the Inkling frown at his reply, before the girl ended up nodding with obvious reluctance. Apparently she didn’t like cops too much either. Was that a good or a bad sign? Eh, he’ll think it over once he gets another bottle from his cousin next year.
VVVVRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrr…
Large amounts of seafoam slammed against the captain’s boat as the coastal guard arrived, slowing down right next to him with rapid precision over a very short distance. The crab could see multiple jellyfish moving around behind its windows and the deck at the back, before three figures taller than everyone else emerged from the vessel.
The first was an Inkling man with dark blue tentacles, wearing a white blouse and sunglasses, as well as a hat with the same insignia that was on the back of his ship. Behind him were two jacked up jellyfish with the same kind of sunglasses he had, their heads having stayed as round and non-threatening as that of the usual jelly, despite having clearly hit the undersea gym for more than just a couple of week-ends.
The tall Inkling yelled something to someone on his ship, and two seconds later, a long and thin metal platform emerged from the side of his boat, slowly getting pushed out by little motors, until gravity forced it down against the crab captain’s own, much lower deck.
“Howdy there,” greeted the Inkling, he and the jellies walking over the platform between their ships. “Are you the captain of this vessel?”
“I am,” replied the crab, “Hans Kravanagh. At yer’ service.”
The Inkling’s expression was unreadable because of his sunglasses, though he did stare at Hans for just a little bit too long in the crab’s opinion, the bulky jellies standing silently behind him like statues.
“Hm… I’d like to check your ship’s papers if possible,” asked the Inkling, “would that be alright with you?”
“Yep,” said Hans, “got ‘em in my pocket right ‘ere”.
Rummaging through his pockets with his claws, Hans quickly pulled out the ship’s identification papers, as well as the document stating that he was its owner, with a photo of him to boot. The Inkling glanced at the crumpled piece of paper, before handing it over for one of the jellies to check. Then, the coast guard’s eyes turned to the young Inkling girl next to the captain. He walked a few steps closer to her, observing the lime squid from behind his sunglasses with eyes nobody could see.
“And who might you be?” asked the taller Inkling, “you don’t seem like you’re part of this old man’s crew, even if I’d say you almost look the part… Which begs the question, why are you aboard his ship?”
“She’s just a passenger,” began explaining the crab, “I picked her up from-”
“I can talk for myself, thanks,” the girl suddenly cut him off, her orange eyes peering directly into the guard’s sunglasses without the slightest hint of fear. “But yeah, I paid this big muck to take me here. Nothing much to say besides that.”
Hans turned around to properly look at the Inkling girl, the crab sighing internally at how hot-headed some young folk could be against authority figures. Still, he had to agree with the guard’s sentiment that she almost looked like she belonged on his crew, her attire being a far cry from what those fashion-addicted squids wore in the city she was going to.
She was wearing dark green rain boots with wrinkled old pants stuffed inside them, while her top was a nondescript fishing coat with a stained white shirt underneath. She had tanned skin and long lime-colored tentacles that went down to her waist, on top of which sat a yellow rain hat, which had clearly seen better days. She could’ve pretended to be working aboard that the coast guard probably wouldn’t have even questioned it, and yet she wasn’t.
“May I see your papers?” asked the guard, to which the girl nodded, before pulling out a wallet from her pocket and handing him her passport.
The man took a careful look at it, examining the various information listed on the document. The photo corresponded, along with all other apparent information, like age and eye color. There wasn’t much to verify, so it was no surprise that the guard handed the girl her passport back without any reproaches, placing his hands on his hips with less tension in the air than before.
“What business do you have in these parts?” asked the coast guard.
“I’m planning to live at Splatsville,” she answered, staying just as calm as before.
The guard raised an eyebrow, the girl quickly picking up on its meaning.
“My luggage’s in my cabin downstairs,” she explained, “I wasn’t gonna bring it out before docking.”
The guard leaned towards the girl, looking down at her from his greater height. “And may I ask if there’s anything I should know about what’s inside that luggage?”
“Well… I’ve got clothes, food, toilet paper, a few card games… Oh, and a Splatana.”
“… You have a weapon with you?”
The girl shrugged at his question. “Eh, if you wanna call that rusty old thing a weapon, sure… But I’m not gonna bring it out if that’s what you’re worried about.”
The coast guard kept his gaze fixated on the girl, seemingly gauging whether her attitude was genuine or not. He must’ve figured that it was, given his eventual sigh and loosening of his shoulders.
“Hm… Well, those were honestly more secondary concerns than anything,” admitted the guard, before turning back to Hans. “What I’m actually worried about is letting this scrapheap you’re driving dock at my port for any amount of time. If the safety inspector makes a visit while you’re there, he’ll splat me the second he sees how much rust you’re hauling around with that thing.”
“Got it inspected last month,” the crab defended himself, “t’was just fine for the guy. Got the paperwork right here if you wanna see it.”
“No thanks,” said the guard, “I’m not interested in something you got from a white collar friend. And I’ll say it again, but you can’t dock here.”
“I know me rights, boy,” chuckled Hans, “I’ve got 20 minutes at the harbor to let the little squiddy off and refuel before ya can boot me out. And ya can trust me when I say I’ll be long gone before even half o’ that.”
The coast guard crossed his arms at the captain, expression visibly tightening behind his sunglasses, before letting out a “tch!”, and turning back to the platform to return to his boat.
“I’ll hold you to that promise, you old conch,” said the guard without even looking back, having his two jellyfish colleagues waddling their way over the platform with their tentacles along with him. “We’ll escort you to the harbor, so you better not stray away from us by even a smidget, got it?”
“I do,” said Hans, clacking his pincers together in confirmation as the platform retracted away from his vessel. He then waved one of claws at the Inkling girl, “you go on and get your stuff, kid. These guys’ll want to make it snappy.”
“Didn’t you say you could do it in ten?” said the girl with a smirk, to which Hans rolled his eyes as much as his anatomy would let him, about to reenter the bridge before he glanced back at her again.
“By the way… I saw that passport you gave ‘im. That wasn’t the name you told me when we met. You hidin’ something from me, little squid?”
“No,” she curtly replied, her hand fiddling idly with her tentacles, “it’s just that I don’t call myself that anymore. It’s way too vintage for someone like me, so I got myself a new one, which I think sounds way more fresh.”
“Hmm… S’pose that’s fair,” distractedly agreed the crab, “fits better in a place for youngins like Splatsville.”
Hans suddenly had a moment of absence, having no idea what her new name that she told him even was anymore. He scratched his shell with his claw in thought, not liking how his old age was starting to get to his memory.
“Uh, by the way…Who’d you say you were again?”
The girl smiled at the crustacean, her species’ pointy teeth showing through the thin line into which her mouth was open. Her eyes had a sort of precocious maturity to them, yet were still filled with bubbling childlike wonder and excitement, pupils focused onto the urban coastal line behind the crab’s back like a kid getting ready to enter an amusement park.
“Chrome.”
“I can hear the seagulls laughing hysterically far up in the clouds, flying in white droves above the sleeping beds of a hundred vessels waiting for someone to wake them up and sail towards the unknown.”
“I can smell the strong scent of salt rising out of the brine, coating everything in a unique aroma as the wind gently carries it between the sails, flags and plank of the pier.”
“I can see the sky’s reflection echoing into a million fractals on every ripple moving across the sea, both sides of the world colored a magical teal blue that no flower nor painting could ever reproduce. Cod, I really, just really…”
Thud!
Chrome set her suitcase down as she got off the boat, face smiling end to end with her feet finally standing on solid land after what felt like an eternity.
“… Am SO heckin’ glad I get to leave all that stuff behind.”
The harbor was full of fishermen getting ready to start their day, carrying boxes and tending to their vessels at an early hour like their jobs demanded them to. Almost no Inklings were here given the aquatic nature of everyone’s profession, herself being the only exception she noticed besides that one coastal guard. It was mostly other crustaceans like Hans that she could see, their carapaces letting them handle the Splatlands’ heat better than any soft-shelled mollusks and such.
Speaking of Hans, Chrome could hear him hissing and grumbling behind her as his claws kept fumbling with the refueling tube, using what she guessed must’ve been some pretty colorful crab-folk language as it slipped from his grasp yet again.
“Need an actual hand?” Chrome told him smugly, to which Hans huffed indignantly, before waving her off with his teethed appendage.
“Yeah, yeah. Go on an’ get outta here already, will ya? You’re where you want to be, so take your stuff and be on your way, an’ I’ll be on mine.”
“Aye aye, capn’!”
Hans grumbled at her humorous tone, but otherwise kept silent. Chrome politely waved him off as she adjusted her large backpack, tightening its straps against her body while using her other hand to grab her suitcase.
“See ya around, Hans! It was nice knowing you!”
The crab clicked his pincers together as a last goodbye, which was the last of him Chrome saw before turning to face the other end of the pier, the land which it was attached to hopefully holding everything she wished to find, here in this place that was so far from her accursed home.
The wet planks under her feet creaked as she made her luggage roll over them, Chrome’s long tentacles swaying in a marine breeze she hoped she’d never have to feel against her skin ever again. The various crabs and other shelled species looked at her with confusion as she passed them by, before ignoring her to return to whatever task they were doing. Chrome was starting to feel the heat grow stronger as she advanced, no doubt caused by the dry land waiting beyond the harbor being exposed to such strong sunlight for so long.
She smiled at everybody she came across, her wonderful mood making it impossible to keep her joy hidden. And why would she want to do that anyway? This wasn’t the Galarpichelago. She didn’t have to seem tough all the time to get respected. Chrome could laugh right in the sun’s face if she wanted to, and nothing could stop her! And to think mainland people got to enjoy such freedom all the time! It really made her wonder why she hadn’t decided to come here any sooner.
Chrome made it to the end of the pier, properly setting foot onto solid land with her luggage held firmly in her grasp. Her boots stomped over flat concrete beyond which lay a simple fishing village, its houses not numerous but not few, with old wooden architecture that reminded her of the large residences back home.
She cringed at the designs, dislinking this reminder of where she came from when she was trying to get away from it, until she saw that the houses all had incredibly wide doorways so the crabs could fit with their sideways walk, which made her giggle a little.
Chrome’s smile widened even more when she saw a shelled mother leaving her house, walking down the stairs on her front porch with her kids behind her, all locked onto a single axis as they moved. Honestly, how could one not appreciate the diversity of their world when faced with such spectacles?
In any case, this small - though lovely - little town wasn’t why she was here. Her goal was to get to the heart of chaos, the place where, if her limited sources were right, practically every squid who wanted to have fun went to see at least once if they were worth their name.
Splatsville.
Ooh, she just had to get there as soon as possible! And apparently the architects behind this place agreed, as Chrome noticed a sign indicating that the train station was located just half a kilometer away from where she was standing. Without dawdling any longer, she pulled on her case and ran in the direction the sign indicated, passing by all kinds of large and small clawed-bearing people on her way to the station.
The case was heavy, and her backpack was too, but she didn’t care. She probably could’ve lifted a Cohock off the ground with her bare hands right now, the sweat dripping from her face getting lost behind her as she laughed like a little girl the faster she went.
How could something so simple be so liberating? She wasn’t even there, and yet she already felt like a living firework!
Chrome quickly made it to the station, which was really just two sets of rails and a waiting platform that was almost empty. The only other one here was a lobster with a tank top sitting on a bench with a radio on his knees, playing a catchy tune she didn’t recognize while bobbing his cone-shaped head to the beat, chitinous antennas swaying stiffly with every movement he made. She decided to sit a few benches away from him, leaving her able to enjoy the music without it being too loud for her. Trembling excitement filled her cartilage as she took off her backpack and set it beside her, hand laying atop her suitcase like an armrest as she glanced at the announcement screen.
“Just 20 minutes,” she repeated in her head, seeing the number written next to the train she was meant to take on the big screen set up next to the rails, “just 20 minutes and I’ll be leaving my old life behind for good.”
Has she been through worse than this? Oh, definitely. Was she still nervous nonetheless? Absolutely. There was so much she didn’t know! What would the people here be like? Was it really true that there were more Inklings in Splatsville than any other species? Chrome had barely even seen a couple her entire life, so getting to live in a city that was filled with others like her… It sounded amazing.
“Huh?”
Chrome’s eyes were drawn to the other side of her bench, noticing a magazine that someone had seemingly forgotten there. She picked it up and waved it at the lobster, trying to see if it was his, but the guy just stared at her in confusion as a response, before turning up his music even louder. Guess it’d been here for a long time then.
Well, at least she didn’t have to feel guilty about putting her grubby little hands on it, then. The girl put her finger under the big text on the front page, figuring that it was the paper’s title. She started carefully moving from one letter to another, sounding out each one with exaggerated lip movements to make sure she got their pronunciation right.
“Okay, let’s see… Fr… Ash- No, Fresh… est… Fi- Fists? Wait no, freshet fits. Yeah, Freshest Fits! A wack… No, wee… week… ly… Chr… chrono- chronic, by… Cor… al… G- No, Coral Jor… ge.
Freshet Fits: A weekly chronic by Coral Jorge
This was a fashion magazine! Chrome had been wondering why the Inkling posing on the cover had such colorful attire, and now she knew! She was so glad she’d gone through the trouble of teaching herself how to read. All those nights she spent rummaging through the dump near her house to find dry newspaper to decipher hadn’t been for nothing! Now eager to learn more, Chrome quickly turned the page to gaze into the paper’s contents, excited at the prospect of getting a taste of a world she never thought she’d be able to live in before properly setting foot in it.
She was not disappointed. Her eyes marveled at the photos she found inside, seeing other Inklings like her after what felt like forever, and all in much better shape than the ones she’d met. They were smiling, laughing, taking cool poses and doing dances in front of places she never could’ve guessed as to what they were, all while wearing exactly the kind of thing that fit the magazine’s title.
Chrome flipped through page after page, each one she turned making her feel like she was finding a part of herself she never knew she had. There was so much stuff to wear in there! Stripped hoodies, straight jackets, tinted glasses, motif shirts, wool beanies, sports helmets, running shoes, biker boots, frilly skirts, woven scarfs, tight pants, beach sandals, crocs, bobs, socks… How was this possible?!
“Could I have this one?! Or maybe that one?! Would this one even fit me?! Argh!!! There’s still more?! Please stop! But at the same time don’t! I want more!!!”
Ding! Dong!
The green-haired Inkling raised her head, hearing a soft chime signaling the approach of her train. Had it been 20 minutes already? Chrome looked back at the open magazine in her hands, wondering if the magic she felt in her hearts when reading it was also what seemingly made time skip forward.
SCREEEEEEEEEEeeeeeee…
The train arrived just a few seconds later, wheels grinding against the rails with high-pitched whines as it slowed to a stop in front of the platform. A moment of silence passed, until the doors suddenly opened with crude hydraulic noises, followed by passengers hastily unboarding from the vehicle, all of whom were crabs.
Chrome quickly stood up with the magazine under her arm, grabbing her backpack and luggage to bolt through the train’s doors and sit down inside. She heard the lobster’s music follow her as she entered her ride, but her mind was nowhere near focused enough to be able to hear it.
The Inkling. wanted to settle to read her precious artifact some more, but the interior of the train was enough to make her pause for a moment. It was nothing like the rusted carcasses she used to explore when she was little, having gotten the habit of wandering around all kinds of decrepit places their shores were filled with. Here, there were stickers and posters plastered all over the place, from the floor, to the walls, to the windows, the handle bars and sometimes even the ceiling! Chrome had no idea what any of them meant, each one having words written in hyper-stylized fonts with logos and exclamation marks to express some kind of intense emotion behind their motifs. But she liked them nonetheless.
The girl sat down on one of the cushioned seats (yes, they even had cushions!) and hastily put aside her stuff to go through the magazine again, her face bearing the same expression as a Moray Eel eyeing a prey outside its lair before latching onto it. Another chime rang out as the train closed its doors, Chrome feeling the floor shake under her feet as the vehicle set into motion, the conductor’s voice announcing through speakers that they were departing from the station.
Chrome started looking at the backdrops of the pictures in the magazine more than the people, trying to gauge what kind of place Splatsville was based on the locations chosen for the photos. Everything looked so… Big. Did people really live inside these tall buildings? And what was up with all those screens she kept seeing on roofs? She couldn’t understand what they were meant to show, but she still liked the pretty pictures that they were displaying.
The lobster changed his music, shifting to a station that was playing a rougher and more violent song than earlier. Electric guitars and drums echoed through the train car while Chrome turned more and more pages, trying to understand what the text underneath the photos meant.
Unfortunately, most of them didn’t make any sense to her. Not because she couldn’t read them, but because she had no idea what they were talking about. There were plenty of brand names and other complicated fashion terms littered throughout every sentence, greatly inhibiting Chrome’s ability to understand the deeper meaning behind their attire.
What the shell was “pastel” even supposed to mean? “Gradient”? “Synergy”?!
“Maybe this won’t be as easy as I thought…”
Chrome’s eyes wandered off the magazine, gazing through the windows at what were apparently called the Splatlands. It was the complete opposite of everything she’d come to know. It was all land, extremely dry and sandy land, where not one lick of water could stay without instantly getting boiled into vapor. Well, maybe it was during the peak of summer, but right now the heat felt tolerable enough for the Inkling even inside the train. The landscape was made up of nothing but rocky hills and pale yellow dunes, creating the illusion of a stormy ocean that got petrified as it was raging on.
The view gave Chrome a light chuckle, finding it funny how she spent so long trying to leave the seas, only to find another one here. She looked at the magazine again, turning another page and expecting to find more colorful wonders far, until…
… She saw an Octarian being imprinted on the paper.
Chrome’s eyes widened like a maelstrom, yelling out an audible “HUH?!” that made the lobster jump even with his loud music playing. The Inkling girl did a double take at what she was seeing, thinking she might’ve looked wrong or something, but the picture remained exactly where it was, unchanging and still as confusing.
The round ears. The outward-facing suckers. The thicker tentacles. Those eyes with only a thin layer of black encircling them. That was an Octarian. Definitely an Octarian. Chrome massaged her forehead as she stared at the text under the octo’s picture, expecting to find some clue as to why one was just… There! On a Cod-damn magazine that everyone could see!
But the text revealed nothing. Everything it said could be compared to the Inkling section, only with a few adjustments for Octo-specific differences, like the fact that these apparently weren’t called Octarians, but “Octolings”. Besides that, there wasn’t much of note, the only things Chrome managed to find being a few tips on tentacle-do for any octos who wanted to imitate some of the photos for themselves.
The girl couldn’t believe it. She flipped through more pages, seeing Octoling after Octoling in various outfits posing for the camera, each one showing off their outfits as stylishly as the Inklings. Eventually, she made it to the end of the magazine, and gawked at what she saw. The final picture was a group photo, among which were both Inklings and Octolings all smiling with each other, as if them being together was the most normal thing in the world.
Chrome stared at the picture for longer than she would admit. The magazine rested idly on her knees as her head slowly turned towards the ceiling, staring haggardly at the metal surface above her head.
“How do I feel about them?”
Truth be told, Chrome was far from being an expert on Octar- Octolings. She hesitated to say she even knew the basics about them, not really having been able to sign up for history classes when she was a kid. Or any classes for that matter. Her reaction had been one of pure confusion more than hostility, all because of the only thing she really knew about their kind.
They didn’t know it, but they had helped her a long time ago. Saved her even, despite how the term might’ve differed depending on who you asked. They’d done so inadvertently, yes, but Chrome knew that her life wouldn’t be the same if it wasn’t for their intervention. She probably wouldn’t even be here if they hadn’t been there, and yet, she’d never even talked to one herself.
A strange relationship she had with those octos, that’s for sure. The girl had no ill will towards them. Only cautious apprehension, mixed with a strong sense of gratitude. Perhaps that would evolve somewhat once she’d meet real ones in Splatsville. Hopefully for the better.
Suddenly, Chrome’s gaze was drawn outside when she noticed something huge glinting in the distance. It was some sort of skeletal metal structure jutting out of the ground, seemingly having the majority of its frame stuck right into the center of a large crater. Chrome could tell it was a crater because of how the rock looked around the rim, having seen plenty of those in the Galas, as people called it for short, only much more extruded out of the ground than this one. The massive object looked broken and rusty, Chrome being able to imagine what it used to be for just a moment, before her eyes shifted towards something much, much more interesting far off in the horizon.
Splatsville.
There it was, molded in concrete and tall spires of glass. Chrome ran to the other side of the train, face smushed against the glass as she made tiny squeals of joy. She took off her bob hat to see better, and the more she gazed at the approaching city, the more she felt tears start swelling up in her eyes, bringing a new kind of heat to her face that slowly spread to her entire body.
“I’m here… I-I’m really here…” she quietly mumbled to herself, hands and knees shaking in disbelief, “I’m finally out… Screw you, old man… I-I made it…”
Chrome let her head pressed against the window for a moment, closing her eyes to give them enough time to stop the waterworks. How often did she even cry? Probably much less than how often she wanted to cry. Another thing she was glad to leave behind, she thought, the girl getting off the window to wipe her tears from her face, seeing the little smile her reflection gave back to herself without even realizing she’d been doing it.
The girl grabbed her bob hat, taking it off before throwing it as high as the train’s ceiling would allow. Her voice echoed through the train car stronger than the lobster’s music could’ve ever hoped to be, as, for the first time in her life, Chrome truly felt like she was free.
“BOOYAH!!!”
Ding! Dong!
“Thank you for traveling with us at Intercity Splatsville Railways. We hope you had a safe trip, and enjoyed the time you spent aboard our trains. Please come again!”
The automated departing message rang hollow in Chrome’s ears, her entire body being locked in place as her eyes darted at her surroundings, luggage in hand and backpack strapped to her body.
There were SO. MANY. INKLINGS!!!
Like, what?! Huh?! It- There were so many! Like, loads and loads and loads! Some were walking through the train station in a hurry, while others sat around with friends or family to wait for their ride, talking and laughing casually with each other. And it wasn’t just Inklings, but Octolings, too! If Chrome hadn’t read that magazine, she might’ve just had a triple heart attack from seeing so many so suddenly.
All her life she’d been surrounded by sea creatures that were different from her, like crabs, eels, sharks and ammonites, But now, that ratio had been completely flipped on its head. And they were all so diverse too! Every Inkling and Octoling had different skin tones, different hair colors, different clothing that made Chrome feel like the pictures in her magazine had suddenly come to life. It left her breathless, making her wonder how she could’ve spent all this time unaware of such a thing existing.
The air whistled around Chrome as the train she just left headed back the way it came, ready to bring more people to the bustling city the girl now found herself in. The Inkling started walking off the boarding platform towards Lemuria Hub, the sound of her suitcase rolling over the floor being accompanied by a hundred others like it.
The second Chrome passed through the doors, she felt a sudden wave of fresh air hit her like a magic spell. She jumped at the sensation, eliciting a strange look from the people around her. The girl rubbed her arms in confusion, looking around the high ceiling of the station to try understanding what was happening. Where’d this sudden cold come from?! How could it be cooler inside the building rather than outside?!
Nobody but her seemed weirded out by it, which made her feel somewhat left out. Was this just normal for these people? Lending an attentive ear for a second, Chrome managed to discern loud windy noises coming from far above her head, seemingly being produced by long white rectangular boxes lined up beneath the windows. But besides that, she had no clue what was happening, or if those boxes even had anything to do with it.
“Phew…” she sighed, taking off her hat and putting it under her arm, “not that I’m complaining though. Didn’t realize I’d been sweating so much…”
The Hub was larger than any building she’d ever entered. The only thing she could compare it to was the storage compartment of that one tanker she traveled on for part of her trip. But that had been cold and dark like a cave, unlike here where the sun rays came in through large decorated windows, casting colorful light motifs across the paved floor and the people walking around. Modern storefronts of all kinds could be seen lined up in rows, with carefully trimmed trees and bushes here and there to make the trip between each one more enjoyable for the travelers passing through the station.
Chrome felt like she’d get neck pain from staring at the high ceiling so much, but she couldn’t help it. Her eyes had so much to look at, and from so many directions! She tried holding her excitement down, fully aware that the city she’d been so eager to get to wasn’t in here, but out there. Still, her urge to look at literally everything was very hard to fight, and she would’ve absolutely given in were it not for the hope that there were much better things waiting for her outside this building.
Announcements for all kinds of departures and arrivals echoed through Chrome’s ears, who felt like a fish that had wandered away from its school, as literal currents of squids and octos swerved around her to try getting to their platforms in time. She sometimes even had to “fight” her way through the crowd, putting her suitcase in front of her like a lawn mower to make sure nobody would roll over her feet, at risk of having their own suffer the same fate.
A few minutes later, and a death stare thrown Chrome’s way by a mom whose stroller she nearly hit, and she was out.
The heat returned just as fast as the Hub’s magic had made it disappear, and in front of the Inkling, suddenly appeared the scenery where all of those photos she saw had been taken. Huge buildings with more than a dozen stories surrounded her from all sides, with those same noisy boxes that made wind installed under nearly every window she saw. Screens bigger than the side of a house were propped up on their roofs and walls, showing flashing images with songs playing in the background to accompany them.
What were those words they were saying? Why was it so quick and jumpy despite it just being on a screen? The Inkling had no idea why, but it filled her with a bubbling energy that felt… Natural. As if she was built for this kind of bustling environment.
Chrome walked down a slope leading up the to side of the station she exited, arriving at a road that seemed too big to be practical. There were colorful signs and lights everywhere, Chrome having no idea what any of them meant. She saw one with a little light shaped like a walking squid turn green, after which the people waiting on the sidewalk traversed the road where dozens of cars were speeding on just a few seconds ago, now all politely stopped to wait for them to make their way over to the other side.
“Whoah… Do they all have radios to know when to stop?” wondered Chrome as she traversed, until she noticed that the cars also had colored lights turned their way. Were these something like Go lights? Like, here’s this color, go! Now here’s this color, don’t go!
It was utterly alien to her, who had always lived in a place where rules were only called that by the thugs enforcing them. Was this really the city of chaos she’d heard so much about? If so, maybe she could get used to this kind of chaos. It certainly felt more like a fun one than the tornado of stress constantly hovering over her head back in the Galas.
Chrome walked with her suitcase in tow through the streets, utterly amazed at how every turn she made seemed to reveal more of a city she thought couldn’t have possibly been any better.
She saw a whole alley longer than a stadium being filled with food stalls offering all kinds of wonderful things, from meaty Cornetfishes with hot sauce, to Ice Krill cones flavored like strawberries and vanilla. She walked through a massive wooden gate put smack dab in the middle of the street, which was covered in masterfully carved depictions of different sea life in various dynamic poses. She saw a crowd of people surrounding a street band performing one of their songs, bodies moving wildly with every note that left their instruments as if it was powering them like electricity. She saw a train go over her head on a rail hanging far above the street, no doubt being high enough for the people inside to see the uppermost levels of the buildings surrounding her.
Then, there were the stores. The amount that was available seemed absurd for the Inkling. How could there be so many places to buy things at? Why would there be so many places to buy things at? And it wasn’t just shops selling food too. Chrome saw more types of headsets than she thought existed behind the glass of a multimedia store, with plenty of colored lights and cartoon cutouts surrounding the products to entice customers. She must’ve passed by at least thirty different cafes by the time she made it to the end of the block, each bearing names relative to the world of beverages somehow more insane than the last. Above them was almost always more screens, the giant monitors seemingly growing like mushrooms, being made to blast catchy songs and rapid-fire ads on every corner like an omnipresent sponsored DJ.
And the people! Good Cod, there were so many people! The train station was nothing compared to this! It was almost uncanny to have this much life crawling around her like this. Chrome was constantly hearing middles of conversation, the sound of people’s voices getting drowned out by ten more before the Inkling could even understand what they were talking about. There were Octos and squids by the dozens sitting on benches or squatting beside walls, playing music from speakers that they bobbed their head to while singing the lyrics. It was like a constant noisetopia of metropolitan proportions, ringing in Chrome’s ears without ever sounding like it was about to become quieter…
… So much so that it forced her to take a break away from the crowd.
Chrome put a hand against her chest. She was panting heavily, back leaning against a wall as she tried to remember a word she learned years ago. Something that described how she was feeling right now down to a T.
O… O…
Oh right.
“Overwhelmed.”
This was too much for her. Way too much. She had to get somewhere calmer. Otherwise she might pass out from either the heat, or from stress. Of all the things she went through in her life, Chrome never thought that populated spaces would be one of the biggest threats she would come to face. Just goes to show how little she knew about the world outside of that crappy bundle of islands she lived in for so long.
“Gotta get somewhere quiet… An underpass, an alleyway, just… Anywhere but here.”
Her suitcase and backpack felt heavier than before, her clothes sticking to her skin with all the sweat her body was making. Chrome wished she could’ve taken some of it off, but to put it where? The only thing she could do was take off her fishing coat and wrap it around her waist, her messy white shirt basking in the sun while she looked for somewhere to rest.
It didn’t take long for the Inkling to find something. Between a postal office and a restaurant was a narrow passage shrouded from the light, with small patches of moss lining the edges on the ground, indicating just how little traffic it saw. Chrome headed straight into it, making a loud sigh of relief once her skin stopped being assailed by the sun’s deadly rays. She might’ve been used to this kind of weather, but that didn’t mean she liked it any more than the average person did.
The atmosphere changed immediately once she got away from the main streets. Now, Chrome could only hear distant echoes and shouts from the bustling city, the girl eager to venture deeper into the cracks of this concrete jungle in order to get some quiet.
Thin strands of grass and a few flowers jutted out from cracks in her path, with shadows of laundry hanging between buildings looming over Chrome’s head as she walked. She could hear radios coming from people’s open windows, often with conversations happening at the same time. She had to go deeper.
The Inkling kept going into the winding alleys, mind and body starting to cool off now that she was alone. Chrome climbed a few steps leading to a broken fence gate, having a hard time getting through it with all her stuff. Beyond it was what looked like a disaffected area, the countless rain stains indicating just how little people cared about the place’s cleanliness. And that wasn’t all, as the girl quickly noticed the countless graffiti that littered every available surface there was, from walls, to grates, to even lampposts.
She had to admit that the spray paint drawings were giving a little bit of life back to this place, though a lot of them only participated in making it feel less welcome than the main city. Insults stylized like comic fonts, offensive images and caricatures of people, crossed out messages replaced by increasingly more vindictive ones, a multitude of logos and symbols all proclaiming their superiority over one another.…
It was street art in its purest form. Harsh, unapologetic, and conflictual. The fact that the overbearing majority of drawings were made by groups jabbing at each other made Chrome frown. She could appreciate artistic value in pretty much anything, but this sizzling reminder of home made it impossible to look at them with anything but disdain. How could anyone dare disfigure such a wonderful city with petty grievances like this? Didn’t they know they were people like her, who could’ve killed to enjoy such a paradise? It was infuriating!
Chrome rounded a corner with her head full of angry thoughts, until she suddenly froze, noticing a group of three people further off into the street.
It was a trio of Octolings, two boys and one girl, all of them having crimson-red tentacles atop their heads falling near their shoulders. Next to them were three black motorcycles parked against the wall and a bunch of trash cans, each one bearing red and orange flame motifs wrapping around from their front wheel to their rear.
All of them were wearing approximately the same outfit, the three octos being outfitted with black leather jackets and pants, along with bulky biker shoes that had steel-toed tips. One of the boys was wearing a black mask, while the other had a silver earring on his left ear. Only the girl had her jacket open, the white crop top under it letting her belly completely exposed, where a tattoo of curling octopus arms had been drawn near her hip.
The masked boy was busy drawing something onto a wall with a red spray can, the other two chewing gum while leaning against their bikes as backrests, observing him work. Chrome squinted at them, seeing that they hadn’t noticed her yet. The Inkling quickly looked behind her, the alley they were in seeming like the only path she could fit her luggage through. Her grip on her suitcase tightened, locking her face in a blank expression despite what she was feeling.
Chrome started walking towards them, now able to hear their chatter while the masked Octoling kept drawing. Their voices were snarky and mean, like kids who never got slapped by their parents even though they definitely should’ve. Their conversation came to an abrupt end when the female Octoling made her bubble gum blow from her mouth, which popped with a loud noise once her eyes shifted towards Chrome.
“Hey, Drowy!” she called out, “stop what you’re doin’. Looks like we’ve got a visitor.”
The masked Octoling glanced at the girl, before he noticed Chrome as well, the other male Octo doing the same. The artist leaned down to put aside his spray can, joining the other two as they formed a wall with their bodies while the Inkling kept approaching without slowing down.
“Look what the catfish dragged in… You lost, little squid?” asked the earring one, Chrome stopping only a few meters away from the group.
“This ain’t a place for people like you, freak,” sneered the girl, before eyeing Chrome’s backpack and suitcase with interest, “it’s Power Creek turf, and trespassing ain’t cheap.”
The masked Octoling chuckled, putting his hands in his pockets with false relaxation. “But hey, we’re nice! Just give us your stuff, and we promise we’ll let you off with just a warning. Maybe. Sound like a deal?”
Chrome remained silent, hearing the distant chirping of a bird somewhere up on a nearby roof. Suddenly, all the uncertainty and confusion she had been feeling up until now vanished in an instant. Her eyes focused onto the three bikers like turrets, her arms and legs feeling both relaxed and tense at the same time.
Splatsville was new to her. Every step she took always felt like a completely different experience, and Chrome knew that there were still many things she’d find out in the days to come, maybe even months. It was an environment entirely foreign to her, meaning she was practically a newborn in terms of how to behave around these parts.
But this? This kind of situation?
THIS she knew.
“Cute little choreography you’ve got there,” Chrome finally replied, “didn’t know throuples were so intense at saying hello.”
The Inkling stared at them attentively to see their reactions, and she was not disappointed. All the classics were here: Chin raised to look bigger and more menacing… Angry snarls twisting their lips… Some weird noise meant to express indignation while sounding tough…
All thugs behaved the same once insulted, no matter what species they belonged to. And it seemed like Octolings were no different. What a shame that this was her first experience with them. Chrome hoped it wouldn’t sour her future encounters with others later on. The last thing she wanted was to alienate herself to an entire race just because of a few bad apples.
“The FUCK did you just say?!” shouted the tattooed Octoling, fists clenched and teeth barred at Chrome while her buddies did the same.
Chrome smiled at her, not feeling the least bit threatened. “I know what I said.”
“Oh that’s it!” yelled the masked one, “come on, let’s splat this chump!”
All three Octolings suddenly dashed towards their motorcycles, quickly leaning behind them to retrieve weapons that were hidden by the vehicles. Ah, so they did have some bite behind their bark after all.
The tattooed Octoling had taken a Blaster into her hands, its flame-themed paint job being almost the same as that of the bikes, while the masked guy now held a Heavy Splatling in his hands, seemingly able to hold it up just fine despite its weight. As for the one with the earring, he only had a simple Splattershot to his name. Pretty good choice of weapon combo, but then again, anything was good in a 3v1.
Chrome didn’t shift away from the group, even when they started aiming at her. Instead, her fingers gripped the zipper of her suitcase before pulling on it with force, leaving just enough space to slip her hand inside while also taking off her backpack, and wrench her Splatana Wiper straight out of the case.
POW!
Chrome swiped her weapon just in time to make a puddle of green ink, instantly switching to squid form and diving into it to avoid the purple blaster fire. She leaped out of the puddle before a second shot could come, knocking the octo’s Blaster aside with her wiper’s tip to make it miss. The Blaster’s violet shot passed right over her shoulder and hit the wall, which was when Chrome heard the Splatling being fully revved up.
The Inkling took her hat off and threw it at the masked Octoling’s face, the surprise making him fall on his rear as his weapon started firing. Its weight made it impossible for him to get up right away, essentially transforming him into a glorified Sprinkler as it kept uncontrollably spewing large globs of ink high into the air.
The one with the Splattershot yelled something, forcing Chrome back as he shot at her. Her arm burned as she felt a couple drops land on her skin, wishing she’d have kept her coat on for a little extra protection.
Chrome swiped her Splatana at the left wall, rushing towards the spot it left before plunging into it as a squid. The Splatling guy finally managed to get up from the ground, face red like a tomato as he started revving his weapon again. The octo girl shot at Chrome while she swam up the wall, but the alley was too narrow for the Blaster’s projectile to have enough space to explode, leaving only a small mark where the Inkling was just half a second ago.
Intense inkfire rang out from below as the Splatling’s shots began catching up to Chrome, which is when she contorted while in swim form, before jumping right out of her ink to end up above the trio’s heads. She quickly switched back to her bipedal form while in mid-air, just long enough to swipe at the other wall in front of her, before becoming a squid again to dive into the new green patch she made.
Chrome repeated the process about four times, squid rolling her way up the walls of the narrow alley out of the Splatling’s reach. She decided not to go higher, her lack of an equipped ink tank making it much more important to preserve the reserves she had right now. At least the three stooges back down had the same limitations as her, and with pretty ink-hungry weapons too. Maybe the play here was to be patient rather than aggressive, she thought.
“Come back here!”
The earring-wearing octo screamed at Chrome while she pondered, quickly painting part of the wall in his purplish ink, before turning into his own eight-tentacled version of a swim form to climb up the colored surface. His Splattershot was the only weapon they had that could be used somewhat well away from the ground, which is why neither of his friends followed him. Chrome noticed him gaining altitude as she peeked out of her inked spot, seeing a prime opportunity appearing as he approached in an energetic mix of shooting and swimming.
Splash!
Chrome jumped out of her own ink again, only this time, she didn’t climb higher. Instead, she simply let herself fall between the narrow walls of the alley, almost instantly reaching the Splattershot dude. Her hand was clenched around her Splatana’s grip tighter than a vice, the weapon charged up for a one tap as she saw the eyes of his swim form widen at her sudden descent to his level.
Swish!
“Shit!”
She missed. Not by a lot, but she still missed. Cod dammit, this always happened with her Wiper! It was too thin to properly hit at close range, and way too light for the amount of strength in her swings!
The strike had grazed the Octoling by a lunar fish’s width, which was just enough to drench him in her ink, and eject him from his own puddle. The earring Octoling’s mouth opened in a silent gasp as he was sent plummeting down, Chrome’s attention immediately diverting towards the other two back on the ground, weapons zeroed in on her.
“Nowhere to run, little squid!” laughed the tattooed Octoling, before shooting her blaster straight up like she was setting off a firework.
POW!
The Inkling’s reflexes were the only thing that saved her. She managed to contort herself just enough to let the shot graze her head, only for it to explode behind her back right after. The adrenaline in Chrome’s veins suppressed the awful feeling of being coated in the hostile substance, and better yet, she didn’t get splatted. Her mind raced at lighting speed as she was about to reach the ground and get encircled by the two, hearing the Splattershot octo yelling in panic during his own fall.
Chrome let go of her Splatana, letting the wind bring it to her face before grabbing its handle with her teeth. She used her right hand to bring out a torpedo bomb, and threw it at the Splatling, making him waste his shots to block it, and force him to rev up again. Chrome’s left hand then flew to her hip with extreme ambidextrous agility, quickly unwrapping the coat around her waist, before using both of her hands to extend it like she was about to put it on a clothesline.
THUD!
Once Chrome landed, she slammed her open coat on top of the Blaster’s muzzle, the earring guy falling much less gracefully into the trash cans next to the motorcycles at the same time. Another shot tried to escape the Blaster, but the coat absorbed the shot’s pressure and suppressed it, before suddenly bursting like a poked water balloon. A messy spray of purple ink splooched across the floor a few meters behind Chrome, missing her entirely, all while she kept a tight grip on the octo’s annoying Blaster.
“Let… Go… Of-!”
The rest of the Octoling’s demand never left her mouth. Chrome swept the tattooed girl off her feet with a single kick, before pulling on her arm and slamming her face against the pavement. Her Blaster slipped from her grasp before clattering onto the floor, landing with a wet plop in all the purple ink her and her friends’ shooting had produced. The Octoling made a warbled shout of pain as the concrete and her nose connected, Chrome having already switched targets to her masked friend by the time she was sprawled on the ground.
Having been occupied with the girl for a while, he’d gotten a golden opportunity to shoot Chrome while she was distracted. And yet, he wasn’t moving. She could see fear in his eyes, the intense emotion shining clearly through his pupils despite him wearing a mask. Such a familiar sight, that was, though the Inkling really wished it hadn’t been for her.
Chrome didn’t wait for him to snap out of it, using his frozen state to drop her Splatana from her mouth, before swinging it at him in rapid succession. The masked Octoling made a muffled shout of surprise as lime ink hit his face, then his arm, then his torso, until suddenly-
S P L A T !
… He splatted. The biker’s clothes flew up as their wearer suddenly exploded in a burst of green ink, getting reduced into spread out bits of octopi that would take hours to coalesce back together. His Splatling fell over with a dull thud, the sound of its spinning turning quiet now that no one was there to hold the trigger down.
“One down,” thought the Inkling with half-satisfaction, still having to hold back her strikes because of her Wiper’s light frame, “three to go.”
Clink!
Chrome suddenly looked away from her kill, having heard a plastic noise come from behind. She looked down at her feet, face turning paler at what she saw. Was that a-
B O O M !
For a second, the Inkling’s world became nothing but purple. The Splat bomb that just exploded threw her against the wall, knocking the air out of her lungs. She saw stars dance around her vision, nearly falling to her knees before catching herself on one of the motorcycles. Seems like the Splattershot dude was still raring to go despite the fall.
Chrome glanced over the lined up bikes next to her, seeing the attacking Octoling glaring at her from over them. He raised his weapon to fire again, but Chrome reacted faster than he could squeeze the trigger.
Clunk!
She brutally kicked the bike next to her, causing it to fall over and domino its way into the other two, the last one falling directly onto the Octoling’s feet with a loud thud. The guy shrieked in pain before immediately dropping his weapon, yelling incoherent insults as he tried wrenching himself from under the vehicle’s weight.
Chrome grit her teeth, jumping over the toppled bikes with her charged up Splatana in hand. Her eyes were deathly focused on the Octoling’s form, boots stomping over him and his friends’ rides like mere stairs as she dashed in his direction. Unable to move and without a gun, as well as feeling immense pain flaring up his legs, it was no wonder he was left defenseless against her assault once she got in close range.
S P L A T !
One swing, and suddenly he wasn’t there anymore. Chrome’s breathing sounded ragged as his clothes fell around her, landing silently in the multicolored patches of ink their fight had left the alley covered with. Just one last thug to deal with, and it would all be over.
“Ah, shells…”
The Inkling frowned at her Splatana, the weapon now being fully out of ink. She quickly had to get a recharge before-
“What?!”
Chrome clenched her fist, scowling at the sight of air bubbles coming up from where she’d left the tattooed Octoling. Faint pops broke the purple ink’s surface tension as the octo hidden inside comfortably filled her reserves, the Inkling noticing that the Blaster was gone as well. She was going to come up any second and shoot her! But her weapon was out of ink! What could she do?!
But then, she had an idea.
Sploosh!
“GOT YOU NOW, FREAK!!!” triumphantly exclaimed the Octoling, shooting her Blaster the second she left her ink without even thinking to aim.
POW!
The projectile traveled through the air before exploding in a loud pressurized burst, spraying large amounts of purple ink over…
Nothing.
The octo girl’s smile faded, seeing that her Inkling foe was nowhere to be found. Her eyes darted around in every direction, trying to see where the green menace had gone with her trigger finger at the ready. She figured she must’ve been hiding in one of the green puddles, which were much less numerous than the purple ones her and her team made. All the Octoling had to do was watch over the puddles, and the instant the Inkling would show her mug out of one, she would get blasted to bits before she could swing even once.
“Stupid coward,” snarled the tattooed Octoling, pointing her weapon at one of the green splotches of ink, “there’s no point in hid-”
WHAM!
All of a sudden, Chrome’s boots slammed against the back of the girl’s head like a meteorite, nailing her Super Jump landing right on top of the tattooed octo. The weight of the impact sent her face crashing back down against the floor, making an even bigger mess of purple ink than earlier as her whole body followed with her head.
Her Blaster slipped from her grasp as if it was alive, landing much further away than before and fully out of reach. Barely a gurgle was able to escape her lips as she got smushed against the pavement once again, Chrome now standing on top of her body like a hunter posing for a photo with the prey they’d caught.
“*Huff*… *Huff*… And stay down this time…” panted Chrome, feeling quite cathartic at the move she just pulled, but also very tired.
♫Stop
The Inkling’s hearts were pounding a million miles an hour, chin raised high and proud as she stood victorious over her enemies. It was over. She won.
The unassuming alley was now covered in splotches of green and purple ink, tainting nearly every nearby surface in colorful manifestations of Squid and Octopi fighting. Chrome thought about how weird it was that these octos’ tentacles were red, and yet the ink they shot was another color. They must’ve done something weird with their scalp to allow that to happen, she figured, which was when Chrome got taken out of her thoughts as the Octoling under her boots started squirming.
“W… What… What kind of Turf War battle junkie are you?!” she spat at the Inkling, half of her face being drenched in her own violet ink. “You get off on swingin’ that thing around or something?!”
Chrome raised an eyebrow at her, staring into the Octoling’s eyes with confusion.
“What’s Turf War?”
Shock would be a good summary for everything that flashed through the Octoling’s eyes, mouth hanging agape while her body laid limp under Chrome’s weight. Her hands then balled into fists, her pointy teeth clenched together like an angler fish as she scowled at the Inkling.
“Y-You… You think you can just WALK AWAY FROM US?!! AFTER ALL THAT?!! ONCE WE TELL OUR BOSS ABOUT YOU, SHE’LL-”
S P L A T !
Chrome didn’t wait for her to finish. Just a second later, and her Splatana was dripping with purple ink after recharging just enough for one last swing. The octo’s bits were now unrecognizable from all the purple ink she and her friends had spewed, the only proof that she’d ever been here being her clothes strewn around the wet floor.
“*Sigh*… Hate it when they say that line,” Chrome said to herself, now having no one around to throw her quips at.
The Inkling stretched out her arms and legs, involuntarily yawning while making sure her body would not suffer any problems next morning. The last thing she wanted was to get cramps from overexerting herself, and then spend a whole cursing herself for not walking away from that fight like a reasonable person should’ve. Granted, she’d been in worse situations than this, but it wasn’t a reason to not at least try taking care of herself.
Chrome looked around the chaotic scenery, with motorbikes tipped over and leather clothes spread out like crunchy summer leaves. These idiots 100% deserved it, but still, the girl wasn’t really satisfied with this outcome. She knew they’d be up at it again the next day to keep doing their thing, only this time, they’d be targeting people who may not be able to fight back.
This wouldn’t do. They needed to be taught a lesson. Something to make sure they’d know not to mess around in the streets like that ever again. And Chrome had just the right idea on how she could make that happen.
The Inkling went over to the trashcans with a wide grin on her face, opening up their lids to take out all the trash bags inside. Once they were out, she grabbed one and held it up high in front of her. Chrome then pinched the bag’s smooth plastic with her fingers, pulling on the fabric to the point it started stretching, until the trash bag suddenly ruptured, and vomited all of its contents over the Octolings’ motorcycles.
What came out was just about what you’d expect. Banana peels, soda cans, rotten leftovers, crumpled papers… Chrome looked at the disgusting assortment in twisted glee, pinching her nose from the smell while she smiled at her cruel idea.
Once the first one was empty, she moved on to the next, progressively covering the bikes in more and more filth, to the point that once she was done, she could barely even see them anymore. The only thing in front of her was now a disgusting pile of foul-smelling garbage, with perhaps a few bikes to find underneath if you were brave enough to dig your way through it.
“Hope you’ve got good car washes here,” she jested at the puddles of ink, “either that or you’re gonna have to buy new ones.”
Having finished tainting the vehicles, Chrome turned around to face the wall that that masked Octoling had been drawing on earlier. A plastic bag full of spray cans sat at its feet with a few of them taken out, the artwork having somehow avoided getting covered in ink despite the inkredibly messy ordeal.
Chrome wasn’t familiar with what he painted over the concrete, but it didn’t really take a genius to guess that it was a gang symbol. Theirs, no doubt. The image had a black tire seen from the side that was spinning around, with a red tentacle and a thin streak of flame respectively encircling the bottom and top side of the tire. Written on top of the tire’s rubber were characters in red font, which, if Chrome was reading them right, spelled out the words “Power Creek”.
“Huh… Not the worst name I’ve ever heard,” thought Chrome, cringing as she remembered all the silly made-up names people on her island had come up with over the years. At least Octolings seemed to have a more decent amount of imagination than those guys.
But enough looking. She wasn’t here to admire any street art. The Inkling leaned towards the spray cans lined up against the wall, taking the black one into her hands. How wonderful that they left her all the tools she needed to carry out her punishment. This here would be much harder to remove than if she were to simply use her ink, which was perfect. She wanted it to sting.
Fsssshhht!
Just two strokes later, and Chrome was already done. The gang’s symbol now had a big, ugly X crossing it out, making it almost impossible to see the name written in the middle. The Inkling threw the spray can aside, satisfied with her short but efficient work. No way she was gonna let this kind of thing slide in her new life. It was the old Chrome who was forced to put up with this kind of crap, not the Splatsville one.
Chrome walked back towards her stuff that she dropped with a carefree attitude, calmly whistling to herself as she picked up her bob hat and fishing coat from the ground. The girl made a sad face at the massive hole that the Blaster had left in that last one, sighing in exasperation before letting go of it, abandoning it to the alley. There was already a bunch of trash here anyway, so what’s one more item added to the pile? It’s not like she intended to get on a boat ever again anyway.
The Inkling stuffed her Splatana back into her suitcase, zipping it closed back up as she heard the birds above her chirp just as happily as before. The simple, yet wonderful sound put music into her hearts, immediately lifting her spirits away from the encounter as she put her backpack on. Chrome’s suitcase rolled over the battle’s ink with wet sounds as she headed further into the alley, going past the now defeated Octoling checkpoint towards the brighter parts of the city.
“Well then… Where the heck am I gonna sleep tonight?”