Inkling Scum's morning schedule, on days when Training wasn't in session, was traditionally begun with waking up at the crack of dawn, and doing light training from 0430 to 0600. This was followed by a healthy and nutritious breakfast with Father, and doing more light training from 0630 to 0830. After that, he could often be found scouring over the scraps of parchment left behind by primitive life-forms from 0831 to 1020. But regardless of what he did with his time subsequently, Inkling Scum always made sure to take a short break.

Of course, this was not just any 'short break'. From exactly 1021 to exactly 1030, Inkling Scum would take his esteemed "nap-and-snack"—this process, unique to Inkling Scum, consisted of going back to bed (already borderline-blasphemous for any self-respecting Octarian to do before nightfall) and getting a few short winks, preferably with a fruit or some other large morsel lodged in between his lips.

Mere words could not be used to describe how important those ten minutes were to him. It was, without a doubt, the most slovenly thing he ever did in his life; even ever-eccentric Father looked down upon it and said it went far beyond even the behavior of the Inklings. But it was quite possibly the only thing of importance to Inkling Scum; so much so that he would never give it up for the world.

May the Fax have mercy on any who wake the Scum at this time, for those who that are foolish enough to do such a thing will face the almighty wrath of Anger Incarnate. Know and despair at the knowledge that should Inkling Scum be interrupted during this ritual, he will release a latent power like no other—

Well, in truth, he would just get very angry. But woe betide those who incur his wrath. Seriously.

For instance, take our lovely friend here, Lila the Octoling. She is currently trying to wake Inkling Scum as per orders from DJ Octavio…

And is now getting slowly asphyxiated through choking, two furious hands wrapped around her neck.

Splatatatatatatatatatasplatoon~

Inkling Scum's self-defense mechanisms were activated almost immediately after foreign ink was splashed onto his head. He leaped out of his bed with an ease that could only be considered natural by the casual observer, grasped the neck of his assailant with both of his hands, and proceeded to squeeze the life out of the fool who dared to attack him at such an important time. After all, the surprise had caused him to choke on the morsel he was chewing in his sleep, and so the perpetrator must suffer.

"Arrgh! Scum—!"

He knew that voice from somewhere. But how? The only Octarian that sounded this frosty was…

Huh. His eyelids flung themselves fully open to confirm whom he was suffocating. His hands immediately went slack, but he didn't move them in case he would need them in that position later.

"L…ila," he muttered, his eyes filled with progressively dimming feral fury, "What… are… you… doing. Here?"

The Octoling sniffed derisively, smacking his hands away from her throat. "Just making sure that you don't disgrace yourself any further, Inkling Scum. DJ Octavio-sama has been asking for your presence in his chambers, and ordered me to bring you to him. I suppose I should count myself lucky; I never would have known that Inklings would fight so hard for their precious laziness."

It was, sometimes, unfortunate for Lila that she was a high-achieving Octarian from a high-caste family. Her ancestors had historically been the secret police of the Octarian DJ, and were trusted by each and every Octarian who had ever taken the position with the most dangerous, skill-intensive tasks requiring fulfillment.

The fact that Octavio had asked her most esteemed mother to wake Inkling Scum was a testament to the danger his naps posed to the Octarian race, and the fact that her most esteemed mother had entrusted such a task to her only further proved that Inkling Scum's rage was a match for the Black-Ops' best talent.

Inkling Scum cautiously moved his hands towards the Octoshot hanging on the nearest wall. "I see, then," he said. "Thank you, second best. I wouldn't want to splat you with my eyes closed. After all, I would want to see the look on your face."

It was a jab at her pride as an Octoling; she responded in kind. "Please. You? Kill me? That would never happen. I could overpower you with both arms tied behind my head and my legs twisted into knots."

Inkling Scum smirked at Lila. Lila's mouth twitched slightly.

Then, he pulled his Octoshot off the wall as she pulled her own from its holster, and they did glorious battle while shouting insults at one another.

Yep, they were best friends alright. Not just anybody would put off an invitation from the Octobot King to fight a full-blown turf war in a small and cramped bedroom.

Splatatatatatatatatatasplatoon~

"You called for me, Father?" asked a newly-spawned Inkling Scum.

Father turned around to face him, front arms stuck in their perpetual cross that showcased the deep scar he had been given during the Great War.

"You're late," he rumbled. "What happened?"

It was true. It took three minutes for Inkling Scum to finish his battle with Lila, and another to traverse the web of tunnels connecting his quarters to Father's. "I apologize," he replied. "I had to deal with a surprise attack, which cost me time."

Father was silent for a bit as he easily surmised Inkling Scum's prior activities. He chuffed to himself, his expression softening. "Hmm, I see. I take it that you were victorious?"

"By a small margin."

"Ah, then it must have been that young one who came to wake you, that Li—"

Inkling Scum broke protocol by interrupting him, slightly ticked at the observation. "Forgive me, Father, but what did you call me here to speak about?" he asked.

Father got that gleam in his eye again, which was never good. Whenever he got that gleam in his eye, it meant that he was excited, and whenever he was excited, it meant that Inkling Scum would be somehow suffering for the rest of the day.

Oh well. Those three sessions of afternoon light training would have to wait. Perhaps tomorrow, he would forgo studying the scrolls to get some extra practice in…

Splatatatatatatatatatasplatoon~

Inkling Scum sat in seiza position as he and his foster father listened to the Mood Music blare from the speakers surrounding them.

It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. The beat of Father's Mood Music made him feel weak and feeble, breaking his focus at certain intervals, always giving him a sense of dread.

Father looked at him with an appraising eye, and with some nostalgia in his voice, he said, "Do you see why this is such a powerful weapon, my boy? You're doing fine because you're strong for an Inkling, but when I fought in the War my dubstep track was able to weaken an entire army of enemy soldiers."

"I can imagine," said Inkling Scum, who was beginning to feel queasy.

Mood Music was a special type of weapon—it distorted an ink-body's consistency and density, using the same principles of the Killer Wail not to splat but to weaken and enemy. Inkling Scum had heard about the legendary Mood Music of the Octobot King, which was said to bring even the members of the infamous Squidbeak Splatoon to their knees, but to experience it firsthand…

He was on the verge of fainting when the track faded out. "So, lad. How would you like to learn the skillz got this old man into the Big Leagues?" the DJ asked, getting pumped up. And when he got pumped up…

"Father, you're doing it again."

"Woooooaaaa!" roared the overexcited DJ, "I can't wait! My boy, you're gonna learn how to DROP SOME SICK BEATS!"

And with that, a long evening of family bonding began.

Procupine's Explanation Corner; READER DISCRETION ADVISED

In this chapter, vocabulary like night and day are used although the Octarians are unable to view a natural sun from the underground caves in which they live. This is because they use artificial light sources (mainly light bulbs) to simulate daylight.

The diety that is worshipped by the Inklings and Octarians alike is a fax machine that one can find depicted in the sunken scrolls and Splatfest announcements. Evidence supporting whether or not the Octarians actually worship this item in the game is, as of the moment of writing, scant.

Octavio's various titles are a bit confusing… his rank is "DJ." In essence it is a king- or dictator-like rank that is only given to the most decorated, powerful Octarian. It is a position held for life. Octavio, by the way, happens to be the first (and so far only) male Octarian to ever be given the title of DJ. His epithet is "Octobot King." It's a very meaningful moniker; his personal Great Octoweapon was legendary even among its bretheren for its ability to use batteries as an alternative power source to A/C outlets. At first, the Octarians thought it to be a useless machine because the batteries only worked for a limited time and limited the effectiveness of the Octoweapon, and if it was plugged in its mobility was restricted be the length of the cord powering it. Octavio was able to use it with extreme efficiency.

As for Mood Music, it is extremely hard to use because it requires the user to fine-tune the sound to build up its otherwise negligible effect on an organism made of ink (or other viscous material). The Killer Wail plays one devastating note, so it can be fine-tuned and mass-produced with few complications, but controlling Mood Music is even harder to do than playing multiple consecutive songs as a one-man band. It requires intense concentration and discipline if you don't have a very good musical ear. All DJs are traditionally taught to play a single, personal track of Mood Music from a young age. Once again, Octavio is an unprecedented DJ because he can put variations on his tune with relative impunity when compared to the DJs of the past, who stuck rigidly to their tunes.

The Squid Sisters are also able to use Mood Music. Its effect in-game causes Octarians to lose control of their legs, which rapidly flail about in a manner akin to dancing. Cuttlefish also dances to it, but his behavior is more eccentricity and grandfatherly pride than Mood Music affectation.