Deca Tower was weird.
I walked in and explored the floor on the bottom, but as I looked upwards — as I was used to doing — there were no more above. The rest is just a tall block of advertising.
But since only one of the screens was replaced, there's a long black pole in the middle of Inkopolis.
The only things on the ground floor were an obnoxious amount of tiny lightbulbs on the walls flashing various patterns and six identical machines on each side. They seemed to be for managing battle accounts. All of them were vacant, so I chose the one closest to me, tapped the screen to create an account, inputted a load of probably false information about myself 'cause I didn't even know my own birthday, then it asked me to choose a username.
It's not like I'm signing up for a video game account, is it?
Whoa, I know what a video game is.
I ended up picking NightFall as my username because I couldn't think of anything else.
The machine spat out a card for me. It had all of the fake information, the username, and a photo that was supposed to be me. Instead, I moved out of the way of the camera and waved my hand in front of the lens. It showed a picture of a blur that looked kinda like a bird with a motor tic.
Below the ground floor were several basement levels, only accessible through an elevator that needed me to swipe the card. I turned left and went into lobby C after swiping my card at the door again. Empty. I did seem to be the first one there. Turf Wars reopened just a while ago, maybe people are still recovering from the Flash.
Nevertheless, I stayed in the lobby and sat down on one of the chairs.
About six and a half minutes passed before someone else walked in. He was a tall Inkling, holding a really large Brush and wearing a green hoodie.
I suddenly felt a little insecure about my somewhat revealing clothing. The same that I woke up in the subway wearing. I couldn't help it, it was the only set I had.
I didn't feel threatened by him, though. I just felt... cold. In the literal sense.
"Hey!" he said, sitting down across from me. "I thought I was the first one here." Looking up, he saw a screen that I didn't notice before. My bird-with-a-motor-tic photo was displayed on it with the username and my level, which was at 1. "Is this your first match?"
"Y-Yeah," I stammered. Funny how I could be sarcastic with a machine but not with anyone in person.
"Know what to do?"
I cleared my throat. "I read the rule book." That much was true. I kinda skimmed through the pages and called it a day. I had a a general idea of what to do but had no idea how it was scored or any penalties for ditching.
Somebody else walked in and wordlessly took a seat. Another Octoling, looked a little like me.
"Isn't it a little weird being the first one here?" Said the guy across from me.
I avoided eye contact because that seemed to be when I completely failed at any social contact. "Not the weirdest thing I've seen," I said, staring at the screen behind me.
I waited for a reaction, or even another question, but none came. A few more minutes passed, and then a short tone played from the screen. It slid the list of people in my team to the corner and displayed in large, custom-font letters, "You've been paired with lobby F." In another corner was a display of the stage for battle. Somewhere called "Kelp Dome".
Astonished, I found a fourth team member in the corner of the room. I didn't even see him walk in.
A circle of light shone on the floor followed by an opening, appearing like a camera lens and bordered by the circle.
The ally who sat across from me got up and fell through the opening feet-first.
Hopefully that was normal.
I waited for the other two to enter, then followed after them.
A dimly lit tunnel that I silently swam through greeted me.
As I found that the pathway went upward, I understood that we were about to emerge and begin my first match.
I broke the surface of the liquid and looked down. This was what the rule book called the "respawn pad". I gripped my Octo Shot Replica harder.
Kelp Dome was warm, and I smirked with my now well-suited clothing.
Immediately I began to look for ways to use the terrain to my advantage. The stage was symmetrical, so the enemy team would have no disadvantages that we wouldn't.
Unless the battle was heavily one-sided, most of the conflict would be in the center, so I decided to lag behind and cover the team's close area and the left lane before engaging in the center.
My eyes shut. I was waiting for the noise that signaled the start.
Heh, I never thought I'd find myself holding a weapon for sport.
...It's nice on the surface. Maybe the memory suppression was worth the chance to live here.
The sound rang in my ears, and I turned around, covering the elevated ground in... orange?
My hair was orange now? How did they-
It didn't suit me, but whatever. I passed the gun to my right hand, holding it out to cover my right side as I ran down the left lane. The rest of my team was gone now, but I saw patches of our color down the other lane.
Perfect. I didn't have to worry about that side.
I rounded the wall in the far left corner, spinning my weapon in weird ways to cover as much ground as possible. The only way left from here was up or center.
Going up had its risks. I would have high ground, but that would make me susceptible to attacks from any direction. I went to the center to fight.
Being a supposed "master of all weapon classes," I understood the strengths and weaknesses of each class. For example, a Blaster, which I found trying to ruin my team's hard work in the center, worked best only with a direct hit or at its maximum range. Coupled with a slow rate of fire, I could take it.
With a series of easy dodges, I sent its user back to spawn.
I swam away to the corner approaching their side and took a stance behind the wall there. I reloaded and prepared for a fight.
A whistle blew. My stomach sank. It's only been thirty seconds, someone must have broken a rule. It wasn't me, was it?
"The match has been cancelled," said an automated voice from a distant speaker to my right. "Please return to the Tower."
Nervously complying, I super jumped to the respawn pad.
—
"What... happened?" Said the guy that sat across from me earlier.
In response, I pointed at the screen in the corner of the lobby. In large, bold letters, it said "Maintenance". Great omen impression for me. My first ever match was cancelled. Well, at least I didn't do anything wrong.
"Well, nothing we can do about it. I did think it was weird that it reopened this early." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Hey, didn't catch your name?" He said to me, propping his now-dry Brush on the wall.
My name was one of the few things I could say with confidence to anyone. "Sky. I'm Sky." A probably creepy grin crept onto my face. I looked down, flustered.
"Sid. Nice to meet 'ya. See you around." He grabbed his Brush by the bristles and flipped the handle into his other hand, then left the lobby. Another shuffled out with him.
After a few seconds, another voice sounded. "He's... off, isn't he?" Said the last one in the lobby. The Octoling that looked like me. But in Octarian. The language.
"Maybe? I don't know him that well?" For some reason, my shyness wasn't flaring up with her.
She leaned on the wall and squinted at me, as if inspecting me. "Hey, does the name Annabelle ring a bell?" She said, still in Octarian.
"No." Well, that was a lie. I heard the name as I watched Akash die.
Lovely.
"W-well then, that's me. Call me Annie."
—
Y'know, this is really off-topic, but how do you guys feel about shipping? I tried to do something like that last story, but I wasn't so sure how well it played out.
Not just that one, though. Shipping in general.