Splatoon: The Drafted Squid
Young Lives
"You've all been called here for a purpose." One Inkling's voice echoed throughout a desolate grassland.
The crackling of a campfire filled the silence after the initial statement rang out through the air. A line of Inklings stood up straight, most with battle-hardened expressions on their faces. They were garbed in army gear, a few with berets, most with weapons that resembled bamboo canes held in their hands. The trudging of a single pair of boots through the dirt remained steady as a female walked among the whole of the troops, her pair of tentacles flowing in the wind.
"I understand not all of you want to be here. Shell, even I don't want to be here." She spoke up.
A few of the soldiers shivered. One of them sat at the side, a helmet haphazardly placed on their head obscuring their face. The Inkling did not respond.
The commander sighed, placing her hands at her side. "We can't ignore them. They're advancing at a tremendous rate. There's little power for the respawn pads… The city is threatened… All because of the Octarians."
The name of their enemy sent mixed reactions through the troop. A few of them sweat or swallowed instinctively. Others cracked their knuckles and held their guns' triggers threateningly.
"But Cod darn it, we can't let those Octo-Jerks near Inkopolis. Cuttlefish's Splatoon has already gone ahead, attempting to get the cat on our side. That leaves us as one of the only line of defenses left." She scowled, the shadow of her beret covering her eyes.
A decisive agreement consisting of murmurs washed over them all. The squid previously sitting had removed his helmet, revealing a blue head with blue tentacles tied in a bun. He scowled, wiping a handful of dirt off of his Shirt & Tie.
The Inkling giving the orders glared directly at the others. "There's an encampment of Octarians ahead. They plan to strike soon, I know it… I need volunteers to come with me. ...I can't guarantee your survival, however."
That last note struck a particularly melancholy, uneasy chord in the air that left a lot of the Inklings rather… Uneasy, to be frankly obvious. However, ignoring the odds, a handful of soldiers, armed with their wooden sticks, nodded with the intent of fighting.
The commander, despite her moody temperament earlier, began to crack a smile. "We may win yet. Alright. The rest of you will stay here and guard the perimeter. Let's get moving!"
With that all said and done, she and a few other of the Inklings began making their move, already marching away from the campsite, their footsteps resounding for a good couple of yards until they started to vanish from eyesight and from earshot altogether. As the remaining squad at the campfire watched them leave, they had immediately set out on their own work.
Which in reality was not too different from what they were doing right now.
All they did for an hour was stand, watch over the fire, keep an eye out for hostiles, and so on and so forth. A barrier constructed of a few sacks filled with sand piled on each other did provide some cover, facing towards the same area the others had left for. One of the Inklings sighed, leaning back on a barrier.
"...So, how are you guys feeling?" She spoke up simply, staring at the dull gray sky.
There was a silence that followed, palpable with either an awkwardness or a business. Either that or they hardly cared, with the "dressed to impress" Inkling in his plain white suit tossing his helmet to the side, sitting under a shady tree.
Finally, after an eternity of silence, someone spoke up, albeit reluctantly, an Inkling tending to the fire. "...Tense."
"Oh." She said, staring out to the sky, "You think we'll be able to win?"
Again, there was no immediate answer. Frowning, she pushed off of the barrier, glaring at the group of soldiers.
"C'mon, talk to me." She begged with a frown, "This could be our very last time speaking to anyone, we might be splatted in our sleep."
"Yeah, that's the point."
The Inkling blinked, glancing from each of her comrades. They all looked mildly unnerved and distressed. None of them appeared to have spoken up. Eventually though, as she looked from person to person, she spotted a rather sullen looking Inkling sitting by a tree. She frowned at him.
"Pardon?" She asked, arching her eyebrow accusingly.
The one by the tree scoffed. "Why else would they send off countless young Inklings off to war? They obviously have no faith in us if they're willing to send off random people to their death."
If tensions had a limit, the Inkling by the tree just broke it. Murmuring arose between the other Inkling troops, filled with nervousness.
"Whoa. Might wanna ease up on the angst there, pal." She responded, smiling, "We'll make it out of this."
Her only response back was a grunt and a few smiles from the others, but other than that, it was back to silence. Scowling, she took her helmet, and slammed it on the earth, sending bits of dirt up. Once again, it caught the others' attention, and all eyes were on her.
"Seriously? Come on guys. Don't let a gremlin like him dissuade you." She scowled, hands on her hips.
The pessimistic Inkling responded with a less than friendly finger gesture.
"This is war, yes people die." She sighed, looking down towards the ground, "I don't know about you, but the commander had a point. Those Octarians aren't going to just fall over dead. We have a responsibility! Inkopolis needs us."
Adjusting his tie, the other Inkling responded again, "Ah yes, because I'm certain a handful of inexperienced rookies will lead the Inklings to victory in their 'time of need'."
However, despite his gripes, the others began to look up towards her. Glaring at the group, he scowled, hanging his head low, grumbling under his breath. Now that the spotlight was on her, she blinked, clearing her throat, continuing on under the gaze of her fellow soldiers.
"Look, getting a second speech is kinda boring. I get it. You know what's even more boring? Sitting around doing NOTHING." She explained, receiving nods of approval, "I'm sure you all must've stayed behind because you're scared. Well, I got news for you: All of us are scared. The commander could have been splatted."
Shuffling in the dirt commenced as the rest of the Inklings got up to their feet. They gripped the hilts of their weapons, readying the cane-lookalikes, a fierce motivation growing in their eyes.
"Even then, that leaves us as one of the last lines of defense. If we go down, Inkopolis is gonna follow. So," She lifted up her own weapon, the bamboo stick glinting in the sun, "We'll be an impenetrable forcefield. We WON'T let those darn Octarians through!"
As if spiraling upwards, the collective spirits of the troops skyrocketed, and the majority of them cheered. They immediately set out, making their way towards beneficial spots for battle. She felt somewhat accomplished, though there was one nagging issue. Swiveling over, the Inkling by the tree blew his tie up and down with the wind. Blinking, she made her way over, eventually crouching down to stare at him, only succeeding in getting him to avoid eye contact.
"...We could use all the help we could get, you know." She spoke up.
Instead of a retort or a taunt as she had come to expect from the guy she had met in the past couple of minutes, he simply sighed, adjusting his tie, albeit with little rhyme or reason, letting it fall back on the shirt in a less than fanciful fashion.
"I really doubt we'll win this." He frowned.
Despite the increasing doubt coming from the other Inkling, she smiled. "No worries. Look, if it helps, you can always stay at the rear… Uh… I never got your name."
A moment of nothing but the wind passed by again, carrying a silent message along as it flew by. His tentacles blew past slightly, and, finally, he spoke.
"...Phish." Phish admitted.
She grinned slightly, reaching her hand out. "Nice to finally meet you. My name's Ophi."
"...Ophi?" He asked, staring at her curiously.
"Short for 'Ophelia'. Weird, I know." She beamed somewhat sheepishly.
"...How is that short for Ophelia?" Phish asked, hardly warming up to "Ophi". In the slightest
They stood there for quite a while, not doing much except stare at each other, waiting for the other's response. Apparently, their actions were contagious, as the rest of the troops stopped and stared at the two. A few of them made passing remarks, possibly due to the fact that she and Phish were like awkward high school students in an army attempting to make a move.
"Uh, well Phish, how's about it?" Ophi asked, offering a hand to her newfound companion, "Any help we can get."
Phish glanced behind him, past the tree and grass fields. In the distance, a budding city could be seen being constructed brick by brick. A solitary building stood out from all the rest: A tower, painted green, steel reaching up into the sky. If he played his cards right, Phish probably would not need this troop of squids to survive. The Octarians might be merciful. He could always relocate.
On the other hand, there was Ophi. She was equipped with all of the necessities for war. A cap on her head, with the right clothes for sustaining ink armored from head to toe, a solitary necklace of some form of animal dangling from her neck. While he had quite the rocky start with her straight from the beginning, she seemed confident. A little too confident. But those hazel eyes of hers practically stared straight through him.
And that was uncomfortable in its own right.
"...Fine. I'll tend to the camp." Phish sighed, shaking his head, "But don't expect me to come after you if you fail."
She smiled, standing up straight. "Great. We'll be back soon. We're just going to find the others."
With a nod, Phish straightened himself up. She mirrored his nod, and turned about, looking to the others for affirmations that they were prepared. With that all said and done, they began taking off, Ophi at the helm as they walked, greeting more and more Inklings as they began warming up. Still, Phish was reluctant, looking down at his less than tidy suit. Shaking his head, he began standing up.
"Wow. They just leave one guy in charge of a whole camp? Harsh."
He bit his lip, and closed his eyes. The feeling of cold gun metal rested on the back of his head. Behind him, an Octoling adjusted the straps on her metallic armor, setting one boot by the side of the tree lackadaisically.
"Makes this operation a little too easy." She sighed.
In spite of the enemy being directly behind him, all Phish could do was sigh as well. "Yep."
AN: New Splatoon story? Even though the final Splatfest is around the corner? How crazy.
Eh, thanks for reading. This is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, to be continued.