Wow, its been a while since I've posted a story, but here it is! Sorry to those who have followed my stories, but its unlikely the other stories will get another update. I'll try my best to update this one when I can, but updates will be pretty irregular.
Anywho, enjoy the story!
CHAPTER ONE
"Sir, you simply cannot battle in…. That attire."
"And why not, James?" an orange inkling brushed a long wavy tentacle out of his face and adjusted the camper's hat over his low, long ponytail.
The jellyfish battle official sighed, rubbing his forehead. "It is 33 degrees Fahrenheit outdoors, Mr. Retali."
"So? That's why I have this on!" Damien Retali gestured to the long sleeved white shirt he wore under his logo aloha polo.
"That isn't the point," the battle official was near the end of his patience. "Those shorts are several inches above the regulation for shorts worn in battle!"
"Are you dissing my booty shorts?" Damien pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Come on, James. We both know I'm gonna battle regardless of whether my booty shorts meet the requirements."
"I'm not going to argue with you, Mr. Retali." James the official said with practiced tones.
"Hmm, so I guess the only options for you are to either let me compete or I hold up the Winter Battle Registration line." Damien smiled. James paused.
The silence was broken by a rather upset Sharkling. "Oi! Whats taking so long?" She yelled.
"Okay," James conceded with a glare, "Give me one good reason to approve your Battle I.D."
"Two words: Squidmas." Damien grinned.
"Fine." The jelly grumbled, slapping a shiny sticker onto Damien's Battle I.D. "You're lucky Squidmas is in a couple weeks."
"You're the best, James!" Damien cried, grabbing his I.D. off the registration table and dashing towards the gates that led to Inkopolis Square, his black weapon case thumping against his thigh as he ran. Once in, he paused for a moment to take in his surroundings. Damien hadn't been to the square since his senior year in High School had started, and he had to refamiliarize himself with this area of Inkopolis. Delicious fried smells wafted from Crusty Sean's food truck, while the distant chatter of Inklings, Sharklings, and Jellyfish mingled with the sounds of passing cars and trams. The Great Zapfish was coiled around the Battle Tower. Christmas decorations lined the Plaza and various displays of Squidmas trees could be seen in the windows. Damien took a deep breath. He was home.
After a few moments of reminiscing later, Damien decided he'd better go and enter the lobby. He wouldn't want to keep his team waiting! He tightened the strap on his weapon's case and jogged over to the tower, nodding a quick hello to Murch as he passed.
As Damien entered the Tower, the automatic door closed behind him, and the inkling was met with a glass door ahead of him, with a neon-lit place to the side where one could swipe their Battle I.D. card. He did so, and entered the dimly lit Lobby.
A catchy beat thumped out of hidden speakers, and colored LED lights gave an exciting atmosphere that made the lobby feel like a party. The floor was covered in well-worn black carpet. Glossy, colored lockers lined one massive wall, where inklings here and there were putting their weapons cases away, or getting out their battle gear and heading to the nearby bathrooms to change.
Damien gazed at the familiar surroundings, wondering where- "OI, IDIOT!" An accented voice made Damien's ears perk up. When he turned his head towards the noise, he caught sight of his team, sitting at a table across the room. The inkling jogged over and set his weapon case on the table before sitting.
"Well ye finally decided to show up, eh?" The voice who had caught Damien's attention earlier was Hamilton Cephael, an octoling who was Team Splatastrophy's second in command. He wore a blue sweatshirt over a green-striped collared shirt, and blue mawcasins to go with it. Hamilton fidgeted with the Black arrowbands hanging from his neck and scowled as he awaited Damien's answer.
The inkling in question rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry I was late, Hammy," He chuckled, "I had a bit of trouble at the door."
"I'm assuming it was in regards to your choice in pants, sir?" Splatastrophy's third team member, Greyson, inquired. He was a tall, skinny Sharkling with short, bluish grey fins and gray eyes. His 18K aviators were perched atop his head, and his shirt and tie were immaculate.
"Yeah… how'd you guess?"
"I have my ways, Deadly Di." The sharkling grinned, displaying his sharp, white teeth.
Damien, Deadly Di, grinned back. "Not to be off-topic, Greyson, but how did your visit to Great Whitecap Bay go?"
Greyson shrugged, "The trip there could have been better, sir, Although it was nice to go back to my hometown and family for a bit."
"Yeah, that's always nice," the inkling agreed. He turned to Hamilton. "How 'bout you, Hammy? How'd your return to Octovalley go?"
Hamilton gave Deadly Di a flat look. "It was great. Fantastic. Can we get back on-topic now? Thanks." He whipped out a palm-sized octo-shaped device and unlocked it with a few swipes of his fingers. "So, while we were off-season I took the liberty of posting a notice on Splatnet saying we were in need of a teammate, and-"
"A new teammate?" Deadly Di tilted his head, "We're doing great with just the three of us aren't we?"
"With all due respect sir," Greyson finally spoke, "Having an octobrush, a bamboozler, and a cowardly L-3 nozzlenose is not going to pay the bills."
Deadly Di sighed. "Well alright, Greyson. You were saying, Hammy?"
Hamilton rolled his eyes. "Anyway, someone did respond to the notice- he should be here soon, as I've signed us up for the first Turf War of the day."
"Okay," the inkling smiled, "I'm going to go put my weapons case away. What locker did you grab for our team?"
"A167, sir," Greyson said.
"Thanks," Deadly Di got up and walked to the locker. He swiped his Battle ID in the assigned place, and the orange locker popped open. Inside was a tall blue brush case, and a worn, wooden bamboozler case leaning against the walls. He carefully removed the L-3 Nozzlenose from its case, gave it a few spins to test its familiar weight, and stuffed the case into the locker, shutting it with a slam.
When Damien ran back to his team, there was another squid at the table, talking with Hamilton, who was looking a bit agitated and confused. "-ye sure yer the guy I talked to on Splatnet?" The Octoling's accent was showing through in his agitation.
"Yeah," the new guy nodded, his sporty bobble hat bobbing in time to his nods. He wore a blue tank top with the Enperry logo on it, and aside from his basketball shorts he also wore short blue boots that almost glowed in the dim light. Tucked into a holster on the kid's side was a grey N-Zap, and tied around his waist was a dark blue jacket.
"So yer sayin yer the level 44 whose ranks are all A+ and higher?"
"Yup," the squid popped the p. Deadly Di was now close enough to see the newcomer, who was very short and only looked to be about 14.
"Hi!" Deadly Di said to the kid, making the younger one jump. "I'm the Captain of Team Splatastrophy," he held out a hand, "My name is Damien. It's very nice to meet you."
The kid shook his hand, "I'm Solomon, the pleasure is all mine."
"Sir, the first match is going to begin in approximately 20 minutes," Greyson reminded the others.
"Okay, so what is the initiation challenge?" Solomon asked excitedly. The shark, octo, and older squid exchanged looks. An initiation challenge? They didn't think that far into recruiting a new member, and, to be frank, they weren't even sure what kind of thing counted as an initiation challenge.
"An initiation challenge, Mister Solomon?" Greyson inquired.
"Yeah… don't you have to do something to stay in a team? To be accepted into the group?"
"Uh, just curious," Deadly Di asked, "Have you ever been on a team?"
"Nope!" Solomon grinned, "You're the first team I've ever tried out to be in! I've always ever done solo, and my parents thought it'd be good to 'get out there' and 'make some friends'. So, here I am!"
"Wot?!" Hamilton erupted. "Yeh've never worked with a team?!"
"So? Its fine. We'll come up with a challenge," shrugged Deadly Di nonchalantly. "Uh, lessee…."
"How about ye have to get 10 splats in the Turf War, and use at least one special." Hamilton cooled off a little, although he was still slightly miffed.
"But sir," protested Greyson, leaning forward in his seat, "Depending on who we're put up against, that'd be impossible!"
"Fine," said the Octoling, "If Solomon here gets any less than 10 splats we'll look at how much area he covered and his general performance." He looked at the younger inkling with his green Octarian eyes. "How's that for a challenge, kid?"
"Sounds good," Solomon nodded firmly, a determined smile on his face.
"If you don't mind me asking, Mister Solomon," Greyson said, "Do you have any f-"
The Sharkling was interrupted by the Music being turned down, and a voice coming on over the intercom. "TURF COMMENTATORS IN THE HOUSE!" Immediately the Inklings, Jellies, Sharks, and the occasional Octolings in the room all stood and walked in the general area of the front door, where a pair of inklings walked in, waving and calling out to their friends and fellow turf battlers.
If you asked any citizen of Inkopolis, they would say that the Turf Commentators make the game. Without them, the Turf Wars and Ranked battles were still fun, but they weren't the same. The Commentators were revered people, as they were able to catch every little thing on the splatterfield and make even the boring things seem like the most exciting activity ever. During Splatfests, Pearl and Marina would sometimes provide commentary, but that was a very rare occurrence.
Someone handed one of the Turf Commentators a Mic, and his voice filled the room. "Whaddup, Inkopolis?!" Cheers rang out throughout the room. "This is Steve and Luna, and we'll be your Turf Commentators today!" Steve was a well-known Commentator, one who has done his job well even back when Inkopolis Plaza was still a popular hangout. He wore a pair of comfortable-looking shorts, and a blue tee shirt with a large Krak-On logo. To compliment his outfit, he wore a blue and yellow striped scarf and his hair was a shade of light blue. A robotic right leg reflected the Lobby's many LEDs, and the smattering of blue freckles on Steve's face pulsed slightly, standing out in the dim atmosphere.
Luna snatched the Mic from her taller counterpart, and laughed as he punched her lightly on the shoulder. "Luna here! Y'all ready to get turfin'?!" Another cheer from the others. "First two teams up are Team Blemishin and Team Splatastrophy!" Her braided tentacles changed to magenta and orange, to match the colors of the teams who she was about to commentate for. "Y'all start in 10 minutes, be there or be square!"
Luna handed off the mic and followed Steve over to the table where Team Splatastrophy sat, while the crowd that was surrounding then dispersed and the Lobby music increased so it was back at its normal volume. "Yo, cuz!" Steve grinned enthusiastically and clapped a hand on Deadly Di's shoulder.
"Hey Steve, how ya doin'?" Deadly Di grinned back, "I see you have a lovely new Commentator partner?" He shook Luna's hand. "Nice to meet you Luna."
"Nice to meetcha too, Deadly Di!"
"How do ye know him?" Asked Hamilton, squinting his eyes.
"His reputation precedes him," smiled Luna. She tapped her head. "Ya gotta know these things." She rolled up the sleeves of her purple sweatshirt, revealing a hint of a swirling blue tattoo on her right arm. She wore a pair of short overalls over her sweatshirt and short purple tights. On her feet, she wore a pair of worn blue tennis shoes. She was a little shorter than most inklings and had a wide frame, which was opposite her partner's tall, skinny stature that rivaled that of a Sharkling.
"And I see I'm not the only one with a new partner in crime," Steve looked at Solomon, who was gaping at Luna and Steve.
"You're cousins with a Commentator?!" Solomon sputtered.
"Uh, last I checked," shrugged Deadly Di. "Solomon, I'm sure you know who Luna and Steve is. Guys, meet Solomon. He's just trying out for Splatastrophy today."
"Ah," Steve nodded sagely, and tapped the side of his nose. "Good luck getting in- these guys are tougher than they look."
"Well, except fer this spaghetti-tentacled coward," chuckled Hamilton good-naturedly.
"Okay, I'll try," Solomon grinned, not quite over his shock at meeting Commentators.
"Great!" Luna clapped Solomon on the shoulder, making the smaller inkling lurch from the impact. "Well, see ya on the Splatterfield, Splatastrophy!"
"And good luck," Steve winked, and the two commentators walked towards a set of three elevators. The pair entered the smaller elevator in the middle, and the cylindrical doors hissed shut behind them.
"Sir," Greyson cleared his throat, "Isn't it about time we leave to enter the Turf War?"
"Of course!" Deadly Di propped his L-3 Nozzlenose on his shoulder. "Right then, Solomon: time to see what you're made of!"
Team Splatastrophe walked towards the set of three elevators like the commentators, but instead of going to the elevator in the middle, they went to the one on the right; it was lit up in neon orange lights to match Splatastrophy's color. The elevator to the far left was colored purple to match Team Blemishen. Inside the elevator was a large cylindrical room lit in blacklights with a spawn point in the middle. Above them, the ceiling looked like a large metal camera shutter.
Greyson and Hamilton had already changed their tentacle and fin colors to their team's color, while Solomon took in his surroundings. This was definitely a whole other league compared to doing solo battles. "Right then, let's go over our hot strats!" Deadly Di said enthusiastically. "Hammy, take it away!"
"Firstly, never talk like that again, Deadly Di, or so help me I'll feed yeh to the Octomaw!" Hamilton huffed. "Secondly: You lot know the deal. Damien and Grayson will cover the spawn area while I go and pick off any of the other team who tries to rush straight to the middle."
"What about me?" Asked Solomon.
The octoling thought for a minute. "I guess you can take the middle with me. Our job is to make sure the enemy does not go past the middle, at least until Grayson and Damien catch up to us."
"Sounds like a plan, Sir." Grayson affirmed.
"Yup!" Solomon nodded.
They stepped onto the spawn point, turned into their respective forms (Hamilton an Octopus, Greyson an orange shark, and Solomon and Deadly Di some squids), and disappeared into the ink.
Right! Chapter One done. Have a nice day, everyone!
~ Calamari-on-Gallifrey
