Chapter Two: Cut Me Some Slack
The sun bared down on the culture saturated center of Inkopolis, where two inklings laugh and joked about their recent memories. The two inklings hide underneath the roof of the Battle Lobby, making them worry about anything else other than the sun. Clam and Shell realize each other's potential and accepts every single challenge they face. As Shell masters her skills with the Carbon Roller, Clam tries to find his niche in the hopes of becoming better. He is still not Level Five however, he is close. A few more games, and he is able to reach out to a new web of weapons.
"More games," Shell pushed through her gasping, "you need to unlock those weapons."
"Yeah, Sheldon probably wont be convinced by my low amounts of charisma," Clam responded before taking a sip and returning back to talking, "so honest grind it is."
Shell laughed before sipping, which brought a thought, "Yeah who makes these things, these cups have like a bendy straw but like...not?"
Clam disconnected his lips from the cup and looked at it, "Weird...like yeah put a forty-five degree on the straw, but like…make it solid. We can make phones that communicate with the air, but not a straw that can move more..."
"They're weird, but whatever," Shell ended her thought before returning to gulping down her sports drink.
"So, anyways, tell me about yourself, we actually never talked about each other," Clam attempted to start a new conversation, which was successful.
"Well, to start on something relevant, I just got here a few months ago," Shell said before settling down to prepare for a long story, "I make a living playing Turf War and Ranked, so there's that."
"A few months? But you're Level Twenty-five," Clam commented.
Shell's facial features squished towards the center, showing a face that felt insulted but also felt that the comment was funny, "Haha, well when I first moved here I didn't take these battles seriously and only did them for fun. Now I take these battles much more seriously, which means that I am able to make a living out of it."
"Interesting, so um...what rank are you in Ranked?" Clam asked, trying to sound more calm and unoffending.
Shell quickly pulled her phone out and checked, "Well on everything except Rainmaker I am A-. On Rainmaker I can't really find a way to be effective as a Carbon Roller, so I'm sitting at a B+."
Clam nodded his head, finding out a few more details about Shell, "Wanna know what rank I am?"
"Yeah what rank are you Clam?" Shell asked, which promoted a moment of silence before realizing her mistake, "wait you're Level Fo- never mind."
Clam laughed at the ordeal while Shell turns away with her familiar push-to-the-center offended look. However, she could not help but laugh at her moment of stupidity before giggling, catching Clam's attention.
"Awe you thought it was funny," Clam smiled, "come on bring out that laugh."
Shell resisted, but it was in vain as she turned back forward and began letting out her natural laugh, "You got me there slick."
"I did, so much for a Level Twenty-five," Clam whispered before being lightly punched in the right shoulder by Shell.
"I'll kick your sorry butt if you act all smug," Shell joked before taking another sip from her drink, "besides, I already carry you in Turf War."
"Watch," Clam warned, "in the future I will be the next big person in Turf War and Ranked, and even have my own Splatfest or something."
Shell laughed at Clam's innocent remarks, "Good luck kid, you'll need a lot of it. You and your low rarity gear and everything."
"Hey, I'm quickly improving, just keep watching," Clam retaliated playfully.
Shell shook her head before finding a comment that Clam will not process, "Alright, text or call me when you get the Golden Toothpick that I have."
"How do you get it?" Clam asked in a tone of a young boy discovering a new thing.
"Of course you don't know," Shell laughed before placing a hand on Clam's shoulder, "you'll figure it out. It takes some skill to get it, so once you get it, I'll be impressed."
"I'll find a few more ways to impress you other than that," Clam naively added.
Shell heard the comment as a flirt and began blushing her cheeks off, which the innocent Clam took note of, "So um...why are your cheeks red, is something wrong?"
"Nothing!" Shell quickly responded before turning away and drinking her cold drink in an attempt to flush out the redness.
Clam shrugged before returning to his drink, turning away to find something moving to occupy his mind. Then, Off the Hook caught his mind, which prompted a reaction in his mind to ask the forbidden question.
"So what's Off the Hook exactly," Clam unwittingly offended every inkling and octoling in a three hundred kilometer radius.
Shell stopped sipping before slowly turning her head towards Clam, "Excuse me, may you repeat your question. One. More. Time?"
Clam innocently turned back to Shell, "What's Off the Hook?"
Shell's mouth dropped, but she quickly picked the jaw right back from the center of the Earth, "First, you asked "what" is Off the Hook, not even "who's" Off the Hook. Second, you need to culture yourself! Third, I thought you were much better than this Clam."
Clam panicked, dropped his drink, and placed both of his hands in front of him and showed his palms in a defensive manner, "I honestly do not know I just-"
"Listen here Clam," Shell continued as her shadow seemingly overshadowed Clam's, "are you willing to learn about the basics of inkling culture? Actually-pause right there-before we start, who are the Squid Sisters?"
"Callie and Marie," Clam answered in a dash.
"Then, how did you not know about Off the Hook," Shell asked in a less than suitable tone.
Clam started to feel like every pair of eyes were on him, he even swears that Crusty Sean is staring into the deep depths known as his ignorance, "I honestly don't know..."
Shell sighed with her head down, showing an ounce of disappointment, "You may learn really fast in Turf War, but I do not know if you are going to survive in the real world."
Clam gulped before responding sincerely, "I honestly am sorry, I am really obtuse with these types of things. However, cut me some slack, I'm new to the whole culture."
Then Shell comes to a suspicious fact, she begins to stand up and looks down on Clam. She proceeded to take ahold of the hat she encourage him to buy before pulling it upwards, launching the head-wear into the sky. Her suspicion of Clam being an octoling was closed, as no suction cup was to be found. Even so, she thought that she would've noticed the suction cups as she was present in Clam trying out every piece of head-wear available.
"How are you behind in so much inkling culture," Shell asked in a solemn way.
Clam looked down and sighed, "just, I-I do not want to talk about it."
Shell instantly grew concerned, thinking that Clam may have more stories than meets the eye. His naive but open-armed personality may have a reason, however, Shell thinks that it is not her business. For now at least…
"Anyways, I'll make sure you are completely comfortable in this environment," Shell announced while waving her hand to represent a bigger scope of Inkopolis, "I will be your mentor, your guidance, and most importantly...your friend."
Clam looked up to see Shell grab one of his hands and holds it in front of the both of them, her smile was more comforting and embracing than he remembered. Shell gave a sincere smile that showed a deep understanding of what may be below Clam's empty understanding on inkling life. To his surprise, she quickly pulled him up and embraced him, which he unquestionably accepted and tightly envelop the only friend he currently has.
"Clam," Shell whispered, "I will always be here for you, no matter what."
Clam did not understand why Shell would care so much. From pulling him into his first Turf War, to hugging him in front of many inklings, he was dumbfounded. He began to wonder if he was some sort of special inkling, and he did not know, only for Shell to be the only one to have that key to said specialty. However, he did not care, he found comfort in another one's arms and loved every second of it. He felt comfortable, speechless but soaked with kindness, however, it could not distract him from his unfortunate circumstances that he does not show.
"Let's go back to Turf War," Shell whispered, "what do ya say?"
"That would be great, I need something to get myself pumping," Clam responded, only to be pulled back behind the great doors of the Battle Lobby.
Although he was shocked, he did not find a single piece of a remorseful action or face from Shell, she bluntly smiled and laughed, "You said you wanted to go, so let's go!"
One small announcement. I am heavily considering increasing the length of each chapter to two times its normal length. This is in the hopes of trading daily uploads for higher quality, more deep and vivid stories, and a lower chance of a typo slipping through editing. I hope you, as the reader, understands any route I decide to take. Thank you for reading, more chapters are coming right up for your satisfaction!
