Why Did It Have to Be Octolings?
Shark rang the doorbell a second time, hearing a faint ringing noise through the wall. Leaning back against the wooden railing of the front porch, he waited for the door to open.
The house and property were nice enough; out here in the countryside, he would have no problem writing. It would be nice and quiet. The house itself looked well-kept as well; no, what he dreaded were the two people living inside.
He had lived in an orphanage for his whole life, until one day (A week ago, to be precise,) he was kicked out for being too old. He wasn't even legally and adult yet! He had a decent way to get money, or rather, he WOULD once somebody actually published one of his works. But for now he needed a place to live. And he had found one. Unfortunately, it also happened to be the home of two octolings.
Octolings had been allowed in inkling society for some time, but they were frowned upon and viewed with suspicion. In short, the inklings were being a bunch of racist fucks; but they had good reason, and it wasn't as though the octolings didn't do the same thing.
His dark blue tentacles waved in the wind, set up in a loose hairstyle, with three tentacles spiked up above his forehead. His eyes were dark purple, almost black. But he didn't care about his appearance very much.
The door opened abruptly, surfacing him out of his thoughts. An octoling girl appeared in the doorway; she looked to be about two or three years older than him. Her tentacles, longer than an average octolings, were dark crimson and tied into a long ponytail that hung over her left shoulder. She wore a tight-fitting dark green tank top that made her already large bust look bigger, as well as purple shorts that were just as tight as her top. "Come on in!" She said, smiling and gesturing with one hand.
His face flushed when he saw her large breasts, but no matter how his body reacted, his thoughts were about something else: whether or not he could trust her. He assumed she wouldn't be killing him in his sleep or anything, but he didn't think it would be very pleasant to live around someone of her species.
She grinned when she saw him blushing. "Aw, you're such a cutie. Don't be shy; I won't bite. Quilla might, though, so be carefull."
Shark hesitantly stepped inside, the rich aroma of dark chocolate hitting him almost immediately. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. The walls, at least the ones in this room, were painted a calm, very dark green color. The trim was wood stained to have a reddish hue, and the ceiling was a light gray. The floor was carpeted the same color as the ceiling. The room was pretty large, two identical couches lined up in an 'L' shape facing a TV sitting in a corner, while a desk with a computer sitting on it graced the wall directly to his left. Straight ahead of him were two doors, and on the wall to his left there was a flight of stairs. Next, on the far side of the room, a doorway led into what seemed to be a dining room/kitchen area. The floor behind it was hardwood, not carpeted. Bookshelves seemed to line almost every wall, packed with books, games, movies, you name it.
"Shark, right? I'm Sabre." The octoling said, closing the door and walking over to the open doorway. "Do you want some breakfast?"
"Yes, actually, I would, thank you." He replied, setting his suitcase down for a minute and stretching his arms.
"You want anything specific, or...?" Sabre questioned.
"Anything will do." He said, picking up his luggage again. "Erm, may I ask where my room is?"
"You'll be staying in the bedroom upstairs, the one just to your right when you first walk up the stairs." She stepped into the kitchen. "You can make yourself comfortable while I make you something. Now, where did I put the eggs..."
Shark nodded and climbed the flight of stairs, eager to be able to sleep in a bed again. He had been lucky to find a place that didn't cost very much, and yet despite the cozy space and quiet property, he was put on edge by the idea of living with octolings. At least the one he had already met was nice enough, he supposed, but there was something... off about her. He couldn't put a finger on what it was.
Opening the door to his room, he stepped inside. Just a standard room, with light, washed-out walls, the same trim and carpeting as before, a generic bed, bedside table, and lamp, a dresser with a couple extra drawers, some shelves, a desk, and- holy shit, were those arcade machines?!
He walked over to the corner, where three classic-style arcade machines did indeed sit. There was Squid Jump, Squid ball, and Squid Racer respectively, all of them turned off at the moment. "Maybe this won't be so bad after all..." He mused, before rememebering the real reason he came up here.
He opened his suitcase, putting his clothes away in their respective dresser drawers and setting his laptop on the desk. He set a few pictures on the bedside table, one of an inkling girl and the other one picturing the same inkling girl, but with him in the shot as well. Taking out his old phone, he pluged it in to the wall with his charger and turned it on.
[GreatWhite]: Just got to my new home. Gonna take a lot of time to get used to living with octolings.
[SmallMediumAtLarge]: They friendly?
[GreatWhite]: The one I already met seems to be. I dunno about the other.
[handsaw_of_doom]: Is she hot?
[GreatWhite]: She's an OCTOLING, fuck you, dude.
[handsaw_of_doom]: I know THAT, I asked if she was hot.
[SmallMediumAtLarge]: Shut up, Saw. Anyways, you're lucky. At least you don't owe a huge debt to anybody. Us two have to pay in full for living space.
[GreatWhite]: You guys don't get to complain until you're actually deported from Orphanland.
Shark heard a knock on the door to his new living space. "You have some eggs and toast on the table if you want 'em." Sabre's voice was muffled by the door, echoing slightly.
[GreatWhite]: Gotta do something, see ya.
He set his phone down, following Sabre downstairs to where his breakfast lay.
Shark sat at his desk, flipping through a large notebook labelled 'Writing'. Many of the pages were full, cluttered with notes, crossed out words, as well as actual paragraphs here or there. It was a huge mess, but he eventually found a mostly blank page and started jotting down sentences and phrases.
Once he had made sure his sudden burst of ideas were all written down in his notebook, he opened his laptop and opened up a word processing program. He scrolled through the files, sometimes pausing to look at the names. There were a lot of them; a lot a lot. Many also had the word 'Finished', in parentheses, at the end of the title. Some read 'Editing' or 'Editing More' or 'Rewrite?'. Looking over the ones that read 'Finished', he moved some of the older ones to a folder simply labelled ':('.
Many of the finished stories he had been throwing at publishers for months, even years, and not one hadeven considered them. He didn't understand why; his writing was really good. Maybe he needed to focus more on plot and characters? Yeah, he would probably have to do that.
Opening up a new document, he started to type the beginnings of his new story. Even though it was the forst draft, he found himself re-writing it over and over again as he went. Cprrecting mistakes, changing names, changing EVERYTHING... this went on for hours, and it was his usual pattern. Nothing stayed the same throughout the making of whatever piece he was writing.
And the hours passed. And passed. Suddenly, he felt the urge to get something to eat. Finally snapping out of his writing trance, he grabbed his phone and looked at the time, hoping he hadn't spent half the day writing.
He had. It was about three o'clock in the afternoon, and he hadn't had anything to eat for about seven hours. Perfect.
Stepping out of his room and silently closing the door behind him, he stepped down the stairs into the main room. Sabre was lying on one of the two couches,her arm resting on its back. She was watching some action movie that Shark didn't know a thing about.
He walked over to the other side of the couch, and attempted to ask if he could have something to eat. However, it came as random gibberish strung together by lots of 'um's. 'Holy Cod, why does she wear such tight clothing?! Doesn't she have an ounce of decency?!' He thought, face flushed. 'And I just made myself look like an idiot.'
Sabre looked at him, grinning. "You're adorable. I presume you're asking for food?"
He ignored her comment. "Yes, that."
"There's stuff in the kitchen. Help yourself, just don't make a mess." She returned to staring at the screen. "Oh, yeah, and Quilla's coming home soon, so I should tell you that it's not a good idea to provoke her. She... doesn't like inklings very much."
Shark nodded, eager to fill the gaping hole that was his stomach. He marched into the kitchen, first opening the breadbox. It was pretty large for a breadbox, and had a loaf of sliced bread, some hot dog buns, and a package of bagels.
He grabbed a couple of bagels, and set them on a paper plate. (They were stacked on the counter.) He dug around in the fridge for a moment before grabbing something and taking it out. 'Jackpot!' He unwrapped half of the cream cheese, then remembered he actually needed to have something to spread it with. He looked around for a minute before finding the correct drawer and taking a tavle knife out.
As soon as he had spread the cream cheese on the inside of the bagel, which had already been cut into halves, he heard a door open loudly.
"I'm home, sis." He heard an unfamiliar voice state. "I'm gonna go get something to eat, then I'll lay down... I'm sooo tired."
"Wait just a minute!" Sabre said, a hint of worry in her voice. "I need to tell you something firs- hey, wait!"
The other octoling, who he assumed was Quilla, walked into the kitchen. The first thing he noticed was her jet black tentacles. The very next thing he noticed has the fact that, unlike her sister, she actually decided to wear clothes that didn'tintentionally show off almost every pat of her body. This, in and of itself, was a blessing.
And, of course, Sabre had forgotten to actually tell her that he was coming today. She jumped back upon seeing him. "WHO ARE YOU?!" She demanded, her fists up in a defensive position.
"Woah, woah, cool down," Shark replied a bit uneasily, taking a step back. "Your sister told you that you'd be getting a tenant, right?"
Quilla thought for a bit before facepalming and stepping towards the refrigerator. "Oh... I knew I was forgetting something. Sorry about that, I guess." She looked over to him. "But that doesn't mean I trust you. We both know that neither of us is willing to trust each other, so don't even pretend."
Her words confused him, a little bit. "Okay then?"
She opened the fridge, grabbing a small plastic cup. "I will give you one bit of advice, however; be careful around Sabre. I might attack you for something, sure, but Sabre... Eh, you'll see, if she does it. And if she doesn't, then you don't need to know." She tossed the cup into the microwave and turned the machine on, putting in a time and BOOM instant noodles.
She went up the stairs after she was done with the cheap but fast 'meal', presumably to go to bed as she had said earlier.
He stared as she left. 'Did she just say that she might attack me?!' He hoped she was joking, especially the part about Sabre. What does she do, anyway? Now he was curious, but also had a feeling that he didn't want to find out.
A/N: Usually, my author's notes will be at the end of the chapter, like this. Remember, the more reviews I get, the faster I will update. This also goes for follows and favorites.