Yes, yes, I know I should be updating Solor's story... but this idea would not leave me alone. Plus, Splatoon is a really fun game. So shut up.

I do not own Splatoon. I do, however, own the main character.

XxXxXxX

It wasn't often that Octolings found things on the outskirts of Octovalley. Most of the other species left well enough alone, knowing that Octarians in general, let alone the highly aggressive Octolings, were very territorial. However, they did occasionally find something useful; ink canisters, some occasional spare weapons, and others of the like. Even more rare was finding equipment in good condition, which could be refurbished to suit Octolings specifically. With their strength, they were the only ones who were able to even transform into a humanoid form, and thus, the only ones that could use the gear they found.

There had just been a terrible rainstorm that had affected the lands around Octo Valley. Two particular Octolings, Octarla and Octammie, were sent to investigate one of the regions nearby; there was a river that flowed through the valley, and while it wasn't common, sometimes valuable things ran through after rainstorms; unfortunate inklings that lost their gear or worse would have their treasures flow into the valley after a particularly bad storm.

"Ugh... I hate clean-up duty", said the red-haired Octammie. "Why did Octavio send us on one of these missions?"

"Our findings could help out our people back home", Octarla said in response. Her "hair" was much darker, and a couple of strands of kelp were tucked in, showing her ranking in the system. "Now, look out for anything out of place. If it's to be useful to us, we take it, no questions asked."

Octammie grumbled a bit. "Sure, you're all concerned about our people when 'daddy-dearest' is telling you to do it..."

Octarla, unfortunately, heard that, and immediately was upon her teammate, grabbing her by one of the tentacles, causing a loud shriek. "My ranking has nothing to do with who my family is, Octammie", she hissed at her teammate. "I got this ranking because I am one of the most powerful and nothing more. Remember this next time you think about running your mouth without thinking."

"Y-yes ma'am!" the red octoling managed to reply, wincing in pain before her tentacle was let go. "S-sorry..."

The black octoling sneered. "You're so weak..." she hissed, before getting back to looking for anything they could use. The cliff they were approaching would be the very end of their lands, and where the river flowed into their territory.

The two searched all day long, from when the sun was high in the sky until it was starting to dip beyond the cliff. They knew that time was running out; they'd have to return soon. But, before the group could leave...

"Octarla, ma'am! I found something!" Octammie called out. Immediately, the higher ranking octoling approached Octammie, looking at her expectantly. The red octoling, however, pointed down, and a small red ink stain suddenly got Octarla's attention. They immediately picked up their weapons, knowing that they didn't have red ink. Octarians only used a dark purple.

Once their weapons were raised, the two soldiers heard a loud squeak of panic, and suddenly a couple of eyes blinked open from the ink. Shortly after, a red baby squid jumped out of the ink, frantically trying to swim away, but Octammie quickly snatched it up, causing it to shriek as she pulled it into her arms.

"An Inkling?!" she cried out, holding the squirming thing tightly as it tried to get away. "What the heck is an Inkling doing here?!"

"Shut it up!" Octarla commanded. "It's making too much noise!"

"What does it look like I'm doing, tell it a story?! Shut up, you little brat!" Octammie bared her sharp teeth at the tiny red inkling in her arms. The squid let out another panicked squeak, before immediately silencing itself. It let out a loud sniffle, looking between Octarla and Octammie, before looking around. It obviously didn't know where it was, or who these people were. Suddenly seeking comfort, it wrapped it's tentacles around Octammie, letting out a slow whine.

"Ugh... how disgusting", Octarla said. "It must think your it's mommy... considering your tentacle color, I'm not entirely surprised."

Octammie, however, softened her gaze a bit. She recognized a scared baby very well, having helped her own sister's children before. She slowly put down the Octoshot she held, before beginning to reciprocate the hug, much to Octarla's surprise. "Hey, little guy", she said softly. "You're an awful far way from home... how did you get here?"

"Really?" Octarla asked. "Octammie, stop messing around and splat it."

The word made Octammie's blood freeze. "What?! I can't do that! Octarla, it's just a baby!"

"And it's still an Inkling", the elite soldier responded with a hiss. "You know the law; any inkling caught in our territory is to be eliminated, immediately!"

"It can't do any harm!" Octammie countered. "It's too young to even hate us! Look at it, Octarla; he's clinging to me for comfort, when any other inkling would try to shoot us first and ask questions never!"

"Which only makes it an easy target", Octarla said maliciously. "Now, as an order from a commanding officer, I am telling you to splat the inkling."

Octammie glared defiantly at her commander. "I hate inklings as much as any other octoling, Tarla, but I refuse to kill a baby! Do it yourself!"

"Fine, I will!" The black-haired elite raised her octo-shot, pointing it right at the squid, whose back was to her. There was a click as she readied her weapon, fully intent on killing the little one... until it turned around. The first thing that she noticed were the eyes. Unlike regular octolings or even inklings, this squid's eyes were a silver hue. The pupils even had an odd shape; instead of a normal circle, they were shaped like an X. Octarla couldn't help but feel she had seen eyes like these before. Her hand began to quiver as her own eyes explored the inkling, noting another difference in his tentacles. While most inklings simply became darker at the tip of their tentacles, this one was actually black at the tips, with what looked like a couple thin streaks running back up halfway along the tentacle.

Seeing the fear in the inkling's eyes, though... instead of relishing it like she usually did, Octarla actually felt... ashamed, guilty. She suddenly felt that if she splat this baby, she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

So she lowered her weapon.

"I... I can't do it", Octarla stated reluctantly. She looked over at Octammie, whose jaw had dropped at those words.

"W-What?! W-Well, one of us has to splat it!" Tammie stated. "We can't let it live!"

"No, Octammie", Tarla said sternly. "I'm not so heartless that I'll murder an infant who got washed away from a storm!" She threw her weapon down, emphasizing her point. "What happened to us?! Before that stupid Turf War, we never hated Inklings! We were well on our way of even making a treaty with them before this all happened! And now we're stuck down here, and we want to just murder a lost child who accidentally entered our lands?!"

There was a pause as the two octolings stared at the baby inkling. The child, unaware of how close it came to death, continued hugging Tammie gently, letting out a low whimper.

"It's Octavio, Tarla" Octammie said softly. "His hatred towards inklings has infected our people. But we don't have a choice but to obey... no one is willing to take us in because of how aggressive we were during the Great Turf War. It's either we follow him... or we die."

"Well..." The elite octoling removed her goggles, looking down at the red inkling. "What do we do with this bugger?"

"We can't leave him out here, that's for sure", Tammie said as she glanced around. "This place is filled with hungry creatures when the sun gets down, and he might slip into the river while exploring. Someone needs to take care of him."

"Him? You know for a fact it's a boy?" Tarla asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I studied some inkling anatomy", Tammie replied. "Trust me, this one's a boy."

"Alright then... who should take care of him?" Tarla conceded. "I don't think I can ask anyone to watch over him..."

"I definitely can't", Tammie confirmed. "Anyone who found out that we didn't splat him immediately would turn us in. And my sister and her kids will find out quickly."

Tarla groaned a bit. "Which leaves him to me... I live alone, so I can easily hide him, but I can't guarantee that I can provide for him with the pay I get..."

"You're an elite, though!" Tammie pointed out. "Don't you make a lot due to your position?"

"A lot of that money goes to repairs and equipment", Tarla told her underling. "And plus, my pay is adjusted for all that I claim as dependent. I can't claim the inkling as one of my kids!"

"Then... what are you gonna do?"

"What I can", Tarla told the red-haired inkling. She gently took the inkling out of Tammie's hands. "Don't worry, Tammie... I'll manage."

The elite octoling glanced down at the inkling, who seemed to calm down a bit, and actually looked rather sleepy. Tarla thought carefully, remembering a song she had heard floating down from the lands beyond the valley. She began humming the melody, allowing the inkling to yawn cutely before he fell asleep in her hands.

Tammie gave a small smile. "Come on... we need to head back."

XxXxXxX

"Octarla, you will explain this... thing that I've found in your home."

Octarla kept her face straight as she looked at her father, but on the inside she was panicking. She was afraid this day would come; only one month since they had found the little inkling, and already she was caught. No doubt reported by a "well-meaning" soldier who saw her collecting more food than usual, or heard the noises coming from her home. And now, her father, in all of his glory, towered above her, his front tentacles forever crossed, showing off the scar he had gotten during the Great Turf War.

"That would be... Cliff", Tarla said, knowing exactly what her father was asking. If she tried to lie, he would be even harsher with his punishment. "He's an orphaned Inkling, and much too young to know that his kind is supposed to hate us. I thought that, perhaps I could-"

"You are to eliminate it immediately", the male Octarian interrupted. "I will not tolerate these slimey little hipsters encroaching on our land."

"Sir, with all due respect, he is not encroaching. I am willing to let him live with me. He has nowhere else to go", Tarla pointed out.

"And that invites more of them into our lands", the male countered. "We are running into an energy crisis as it is, Tarla; we have enough problems without unwanted squids."

"But, sir, he'll die!"

"And that will simply mean one less squid in this world!" the octarian roared. "Now, splat this menace immediately!"

"Daddy, please!" Tarla finally broke, destroying the facade. She fell to her knees, closing her eyes tight. "Don't make me do this! I can raise him right! He doesn't have to die! I'll teach him to live like us! I'll do anything! Don't make me kill this baby!"

There was a moment of silence, before a small voice echoed through the room. "Ma... ma...?" The two octarians looked to the inkling in question, who had been napping on the couch. "Mama...?" Little Cliff looked at the male Octarian, staring in curiosity. Then, he turned back to Tarla and immediately jumped into her arms, looking content as he shut his eyes again.

"Last chance, Tarla", the male said, and the elite octoling looked up into the eyes of her angry father, the light shining off of his helmet. "Either you step outside and splat that inkling immediately... or you step outside and don't come back."

Those words were the ultimatum she had been hoping he wouldn't force her to choose. Telling an Octoling that they were banished from the valley was a death sentence. No one would be able to survive outside of the protective walls, were none of the others that littered the world dared to venture. And sending an Octarian outside meant that it would only be a matter of time before they were killed.

But Octarla looked at her father within a new light. He would condemn one of his own to death simply to get rid of an inkling? And not just one of his own people... but his flesh and blood. So, with her eyes furrowing in anger, she solemnly lowered her head.

"Very well... Octavio."

The phrasing shocked him enough, the leader of the Octarians wasn't prepared for a swift kick to the head, knocking him out. Octarla shifted the weight of Cliff in her arms, before glancing at a weapons rack nearby. She knew that using the octoshot would slow her down significantly; the weapon was easily recognizable if fired, and if anyone tried to stop her, she needed a stealthy defense. But more importantly, she needed to run as fast as she could, before either Octavio woke up or someone was sent to check on him. She then grabbed an old, dusty brush, looking at it with a faint memory dancing on the edges of her vision.

"Hello, old friend... I need you to help me one last time", she said to the weapon. Quickly, she brought it to the ground, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline as she began stepping quickly outside. She hefted the brush over her shoulder, holding Cliff tightly to her body, hearing the baby let out a steady breath, indicating that he was asleep.

"Don't worry, Cliff", Octarla said softly. "Mama'll keep you safe. Just stay asleep, and dream your little dreams." She heard a cry behind her, and knew that someone had discovered Octavio. Silently, she slipped into the shadows, avoiding the patrols that no doubt were scouring for her.

The trek was long and dangerous, but after what felt like an eternity, she arrived at the edge of the tallest cliff, reaching the top of the stony structure shaped like the valley's namesake. She was tired from running nonstop, but Octarla was glad she was no longer trapped by the walls.

"So... this is where you stand", came another voice. Octarla closed her eyes, sighing.

"If anyone were to find me, I knew that 'Daddy' would send you", she stated calmly, turning to face another elite octoling, who actually had slightly longer tentacles in the back, which were tied into what looked to be a crude, curly ponytail. "Octola..."

"Is it true, Tarla?" asked the other elite, brushing some kelp aside as it waved in front of her face slightly. "Are you trying to escape with an inkling?" Octola glanced down, seeing the baby inkling asleep in Tarla's arms, and scowled. "You would defy your own father for the sake of one who managed to lose his way here?"

"He's strong, Tola", Octarla insisted. "He was swept here by a storm, a flood that should have dissolved him. I've been caring him for the last month, and I learned so much more than I thought I already knew. They're not hostile, or aggressive by nature, Tola. He has fears, he has dreams... he has so much more than I thought Inklings could have."

Octola stared at her friend, watching her expression. She glanced at the octoling's brush. "Haven't seen that in a while... do you still know how to use it?"

"I remember enough", Tarla replied. She lifted the brush off her shoulder, pointing it at her former teammate. "Stay back, Tola. I will fight you one-handed if I have to, but I am leaving this valley."

Tola watched after her friend, eying the brush, but with that mask covering her eyes, Tarla had no idea what the elite was planning. Finally, Tola lowered her weapon, standing in a relaxed pose.

"Get out of here", Tola said. "You have a kid to raise, don't you?"

That actually threw Tarla off, and she lowered her brush slowly. "You're much more loyal than I, Tola... why are you disobeying my father?"

Tola smirked, turning away. "I'm loyal alright... but I'm loyal to my friends. Besides..." She patted her own stomach lightly. "As one mother to another... every child deserves a chance."

Tarla wanted to ask so many questions. Who was the father? Was she gonna force her child to fight, like they were? What was she planning? But the priority took over, and she shouldered her brush again. "Thank you, Tola... I'll miss you." She turned away, feeling a tear running down her face. "Tell... tell T-Tammie that I'll miss her, too."

"Will do... Captain."

And so, as the sun rose on the valley, two friends left the edge, unsure if they would ever see each other again.

XxXxXxX

Tarla had intended to find a place to live on her own, away from society. She wanted to keep her existence outside of the valley a secret; she didn't want to scare the local populace. She was efficient at finding food on her own, and could provide for Cliff no problem.

The issue, however, was that Cliff had gotten sick.

After months of living in the wild, Tarla should have assumed that her inkling baby would get sick. They washed when they could, and she had to make clothes out of animal hides and other various materials she could find, but she shouldn't have kidded herself. They were not living anywhere near sanitary conditions.

They did, however, end up near a small village called Tentaton.

She had been observing the inklings for days. She had hoped that she wouldn't be forced to enter the town of inklings, but she knew that once Cliff had turned pale and was coughing a lot, she had no choice.

Fast forward to now, as she stepped into the town doctor's office, with four or so inklings staring at her in shock.

Tarla glanced around, looking at the inklings. They stared at her, their eyes wide, and their jaws dropped, showing their fanged teeth. She then turned to the receptionist, who was practically sweating bullets before she stepped forward, brush still hoisted on her shoulder as she stopped just before the desk.

"Please", she whispered, her voice hoarse from lack of use. The receptionist blinked, before spotting the red inkling cradled gently in Tarla's arms. "Save him... he's not even two years old yet..."

The receptionist looked at the child, then back at the Octoling, swallowing nervously. "W-What happened?"

"We've been living on the outskirts for a while now", Tarla responded. "I didn't want to scare you or your people... but he's sick, and I can't help him without medicine." She shook her head, closing her eyes. "Do whatever you want to me once he's better, but please... help him... I don't know what to do..."

The receptionist nodded slowly, standing up. "Come with me. The doctor will be right with you."

Tarla snorted a bit. "That's what they said in the valley, too, before making us wait twenty minutes."

"I promise, I'll get him right to you", the receptionist responded, looking at Octarla with a reassuring gaze. "Just follow me; your son doesn't look too well."

Octarla hesitated for only a moment, before she nodded, following the inkling girl to the examination room.

She was completely unaware of the new life she'd be facing in just a few short minutes.