Entry 4: What is, and What Will be


(One year ago)

"Did you know," Timey began, "that the odds of the average Inkling having a person out there that looks exactly like them are 1/588?"

"Question," Pearl raised her hand. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Quite a lot, actually," Marie answered.

Timey could safely say that he was not a fan of boats. It probably had to do with the certain death that the vessel bobbed atop of that set him off so much.

Still, this was a job, and he agreed to do it. Grizzco may be a rather shady looking business, but Mr Grizz did work that was beneficial to Inkopolis as a whole, so it was only natural that Timey would step in to help out.

Plus, there was money involved. Much as Timey didn't want money to be a major factor to why he did anything, the sad truth was that Turf War and Ranked only paid out so much. (Deej: Ah, the pains of capitalism. Pearl: I feel that. Marie: Shush.)

The Squidbeak Splatoon only paid him so much, after all. Actually, scratch that. He wasn't paid at all for that. Entirely his own choice, really. (Callie: Wait, Gramps doesn't pay you? Timey: I mean, I made the final call on the matter, so... Callie: Don't matter. When he gets home, I'mma have words with him.)

The sound of a glass contained filled with... something, hitting the deck was heard. Glancing behind him, Timey noticed an Inkling chasing after a jar of pickled plums that was rolling towards him.

Strange tastes, in his opinion, but okay.

Crouching down, Timey picked up the jar. "Are these yours?" he asked the Inkling. Bit of a stupid question, really, but it was polite.

"Ah, thanks!" the Inkling replied, in a voice that sounded strangely like his own. The jar was handed over, and the moment the two locked eyes...

Well, it was like looking in a mirror. Timey tilted his head to the left, and the Inkling mirrored him in curiosity. Raise left hand, to his right. Stood on opposite foot.

It all culminated in a weird display, when the new Inkling somehow managed to bend his body backwards, and touch the top of his head to his heels.

"Okay, hold on," Deej interrupted. "How the heck did this kid manage to bend over backwards like that? That doesn't seem physically possible."

"Actually, that makes a lot of sense," Eighter said.

"How?"

"We don't have bones, smart-ass," Pearl answered. "The only reason we act like we do is because at least 70% of the media we consume is old movies made by humans thousands of years ago."

"I think that's just a conspiracy, Pearlie," Marina stated.

"Whale-shit 'it's just a conspiracy'!" Callie shouted (Timey: Ow, my ears!) "If it was that simple, then why are we so inflexible at times?"

"Because it's a more civil way of moving," Marie responded, before giving Timey a look. "I think we enabled this mindset a bit too much, Three."

"I find it amusing, honestly," Timey responded. "Now, as I was saying..."

Timey let out a shrilled laugh, having not expected that level of flexibility. "You're really an odd one, aren't you?" he said, before holding out a free hand. "My name is Timey, what's yours?"

The Inkling looked at him with the curiosity of a newborn, before giving a large, infectious smile. "I'm Goggles! Nice to meet you!"


"To say that Goggles was a great ally to have in that shift of Salmon Run would be an understatement," Timey continued. "Considering it was a hazard level max shift, at that, that's praise well earned."

Timey cursed his poor luck of the day. It was a low tide situation, during the last wave, so the Salmonids were out in full force at the Ruins of Arc Polaris. He and Goggles were on boss and mook killind duty, while their two coworkers were hauling the golden eggs to the basket. A rather standard means of doing the job, but effective none-the-less.

It would have been a simple job, at least, if it wasn't an all random weapons run.

Granted, Goggles at least had his prefered Splattershot, so more power to him, but Timey was stuck using the Luna Blaster. Not his best weapon, by far.

Familiar green circles lit up the ground, and the two dived aside as the missiles of a Flyfish struck, followed quickly by the beam of a Stinger.

"Blast, there's no end to them," Timey cursed quietly.

"What's that about 'fast'?" Goggles asked, hardly phased by the onslaught of Salmonids.

"I said 'blast', not 'fast'," Timey replied. 'This guy is good, no doubt about that, but his hearing... I wonder if he has problems with his ears?'

Unfortunately, during his musing, Timey was caught unaware by the Steel Eel sneaking up behind him. How such a thing could 'sneak' was quite the mystery, but it managed to do it.

Timey was caught square in the back, though his ink tank took most of the blow. Plus side: wasn't splatted. Down side: his ink tank broke.

Well, wasn't that just fan-flipping-tastic. (Deej: Man, flashback Timey is sassy as hell.)

"Sorry, Goggles, I need to fall back," Timey shouted.

"Got it!" came the response. At the very least, when it mattered, Goggles could pick up the slack.

Leaping onto one of the ink rails, Timey cursed his failings. He really did hate this feeling of powerlessness.

Of course, while on the job, brooding was generally considered a bad idea. Case in point: sudden Flyfish missile. A near miss though it may be, but was enough to throw him off balance, and lead him to tumble into the tainted water below.

Something with weight struck him in the side, the sound of someone being splatted was heard, and he blacked out.


(Present Day)

"Hold the heck on," Shades spoke, when Timey's pause went on to the point that he seemed finished. "That can't be it. What sort of whale-shit cliff hanger is that?! You're making it sound like you're the one who..." She paused, as if a puzzle piece had just been placed, and the image was becoming clearer. "Wait... Rider was calling you Goggles, and you know for certain that you two look alike. Then, that would mean..."

Timey nodded sadly. "Yes. I can only guess that Goggles threw his ink tank at me, and was splatted immediately after. Either that, or..." He began to tremble once more. "The alternative is... that Rider's right, and that I really am Goggles."

"But you're not," Callie said strongly and suredly. "Marie, Gramps, and I, have seen your scars. We know you." She held him tighter. "You are Timey, no doubt about it."

The shaking subsided. "Thanks, Cal," Timey muttered. Were he in Inkling form, it would have been blatantly obvious how warm his smile was right now. "Roughly a day after... that incident," he continued his story, "I woke up in the hospital, surrounded by... all of Goggles' friends. Apparently, everyone believed I was him because I had his ink tank from Grizzco. I tried to convince them they were mistaken, but..."

"It's hard to tell someone the person they love is dead," Eighter finished. "Doubly so when they're convinced you're that person."

Timey nodded sadly. "It was especially hard with Team Blue. They were... they were Goggles' childhood friends." A small tear fell at that moment. "I was in that bed for three days. The staff were convinced I had either gotten amnesia, or my memories rewrote themselves to cope with the shock. On the second day, I... I was almost believing them. The only reason I wasn't in the hospital longer... was because I ran."

Heavy breathing, masked by the sound of rain. Contrary to popular belief, rain was only mildly annoying to Inklings, like dust is to humans in the wind.

Timey ran. He ran, and ran, and ran. Even as the rain burned, he ran, hearing the calls for Goggles.

He wasn't Goggles. He couldn't be.

Could he?

"After a while, though, I made my way to Octo Canyon, where... my doubts were first eased a bit." Timey exhaled, signifying the end to what he wanted to say.

"That's... wow," Marina muttered. "I had no idea. I can't imagine what that would be like."

"I don't think I want to," Deej stated. "Having to make a new life away from home is one thing, but to be told you're suppose to live someone elses life? Shit's stranger than fiction."

Eighter was silent for a moment. "Having amnesia is one thing," she said quietly, "but if I were to be told that everything I knew about myself was a lie... I don't know what I'd do."

"I don't think you'd be blamed for shooting the messenger," Marie said. "Lord knows I wanted to, after seeing the state Three was in. Heck, even Octavio was off-put by it."

"Really says something, when your enemy feels sympathy," Shades said. "But, what happens now? Team Yellow-Green will be out in force, now that they know Timey's in town."

"I..." Timey swallowed. "I don't want to go into hiding. Not again. But I... I don't know if I can face them again."

"Well, you're not doing it alone!" Pearl shouted, rising to her feet. "You've got an entire team of professionals with ya! If those pricks try anything, I will cut a fish!"

Marina giggled lightly. "I'm with Pearl on this," she said, standing up. "Regardless of how we first met, you still saved my life. I have every intention of repaying that debt to you."

"Damn straight!" Deej stated. "Heck, more than just saving my life, you damn well gave me a life! If we Octolings are known for anything, it's paying our friends back."

Eighter chuckled lightly. "Here I thought that was just me," she muttered. "Timey, I may not have most of my memories, but one thing I do remember is our battle two years ago. That battle... it's what pushes me to go as far as I can. You were my enemy then, and you inspired me. You're my friend now, and... I don't know a word stronger than 'inspire', come to think of it."

"How eloquent of you," Shades said next. "Although, I don't think I can do much better." She adjusted her aviators slightly. "I've barely known you for half a year, yet in that time, you've managed to make me try to be a better person. I know I still have a long way to go, and I want you to be there by the end."

Smiling slightly, Marie patted Shades on the head. "I'd say you're doing pretty well, Four," she said fondly. "There isn't a chance in hell we'd trade you for anything, Three. After everything you've done, not just for us, but for all of Inkopolis, I think we can safely say we know you. Your only problem is the fact you don't talk to us about your issues."

Finally, Callie stood up, turning Timey around to look him directly in the eyes. "Tee, you've been such an important part in all our lives. We know you, just as you know us. So you can trust us when we say: you are our dear friend, and no one will take that away from you."

"Cal, I..." Timey uttered, struggling to pick his words. "I..." A slight hiccup escaped his throat. "I'm just... afraid. Afraid that, if I show this weakness, then... then you'd all think that I'm... that I'm not..."

"What sort of assholes do you take us for?" Pearl shouted.

"We'd have to be pretty scummy to look at a friend in distress and think 'he's not our Timey'," Deej added.

"Your... Timey..." he repeated the words to himself, finding a small semblance of strength in them. That strength, in turn, motivated him back into his Inkling form. His head was kept low, but one could tell from the shaking of his shoulders that he was struggling to keep the tears back. "Those three months I was hiding... I lost so, so much during that time. I... I had nowhere else to go after that incident. 'Timey' was just... another name in the obituary. My family, my friends... I couldn't tell them I was alright, because... because to the world, I wasn't even me." He finally raised his head, meeting eyes with Callie. "I... I don't want to lose it all again!"

There it was. The line that finally allowed his tears to fall. A vocalised wish, pure, selfish, and altogether childish.

For someone who had never allowed himself to be such a kid, and was more a soldier and hero, an ace of combat, who wouldn't want to hug him, and make sure he knows he's not going anywhere?

Not Callie. Nor Marie, Pearl, Marina, or the rest of Team Bangaichi.


The hours passed without notice, considering the mood had been lifted quite considerably after what everyone had agreed to call 'Operation Group Hug'. Shades had been the first to leave that evening, on account of having to 'make sure her new room-mate hadn't burned the building down'.

Considering she was talking about a sanitized, yet rather docile, Octoling, the odds of that actually happening were very low, but she couldn't be blamed for wanting to be sure.

Shades lived in a small apartment building an extra train station away from Flounder Heights and Inkopolis proper. Not quite as nice as Timey's, granted, but it was serviceable enough for her liking.

As she reached her door, her phone dinged. It had been going off like that for the past hour or so, mostly due to the fact that they had officially let Deej in on the New Squidbeak Splatoon's group chat.

Well, it was still nice to not have to keep secrets now.

Chat Log:

Tenta-fool (Deej): How's things going on everyone's ends?

Agent_1: .tser emos gnitteg s'eh tsael tA .peelsa nellaf tsuj s'eeT

Tenta-fool: um wat

Agent_2: Callie, you're holding the phone upside down again.

Agent_1: i totally did ;p

MC_Princess: but how tho

Agent_4Shades: She was able to do it with sound, too.

DJ_Hyperfish: But that's... not how sound works. That's not how phones work. Just... how?

Agent_1: dunno what ta tell ya

Agent_Octopod: This is nice. We're all getting along :).

Tenta-fool: glad one of us is havin a good time

Tenta-fool: Getting back on track though, what's our plans for the next few days?

MC_Princess: ya no he srs when he punctuate.

Agent_1: I'm planning on staying at Tee's, at least until Rider pulls his head out.

MC_Hyperfish: Unfortunately, Pearlie and I still have to do our shifts for Turf War commentating, so we'll be largely unavailable for most days.

Agent_Octo: I've got... plans, tomorrow, but otherwise I'm good for whatever.

Agent_4Shades: I've got to look after that new room-mate of mine, but I can be on standby if needs come.

Agent_2: Ditto for me.

Tenta-fool: And I'm free with no prior commitments.

Agent_2: Guess we'll be relying on you as the front liner, then. Also, Callie, mind your language, we've an amnesiac in the chat.

Agent_Octo: I'm not too troubled by it. Besides, I can swear if I want to.

Agent_1: Prove it.

Agent_Octo: F

Agent_Octo: Fu

MC_Princess: u can do it!

Agent_Octo: im nervous.

Shades giggled at the exchange as it continued. It was more for the fact that she was able to fit in with these people, more than anything.

To say that Shades' parents were completely different people would be... well, a statement of the obvious, really, as both of a persons parents would have to physically be separate entities. Personality wise, though, they were night and day. They were so different, one couldn't help but wonder how they got together in the first place.

The answer was simple, really; it was a prearranged marriage.

Shades' father came from a long line of military practitioners, with her great-grandfather having taken part in the Great Turf War. Her father was strict, absolute, indomitable, and terrifying.

That was just a polite way of saying he was an ass at the best of times. He was a xenophobic mess of a man, believing Inklings to be the superior life on the planet, and hammering into Shades' head that any and all Octarians should be killed on sight.

He also died of pneumonia, which he caught during boot camp, so any judging he wants to do about the state of Inkopolis can be done in whatever afterlife he ended up in.

Shades used to hold her father is high regard, and treated his word as law. Granted, that was because directly going against him, or even subtly going against him, was considered a very bad idea. She used to fully believe him when he said that Octarians were a bad idea, but considering her life these days...

As for her mother, she was easily among the nicest people Shades knew. She used to own the title of 'nicest', but them Timey walked in and politely tried to let her keep it, while she kindly tried to let him have the title. She also had the added bonus of still being alive at the moment.

Shades' mum was also the one who gave her the aviators she wore. To Shades, it served as a reminder of what she aspires to be: like her mother.

Her father made her into someone who hates, and her mother is working to make her someone who loves.

At least, she believed, if she had those glasses on her, she could replicate her mothers kindness.

Sighing the thoughts away, she opened the door to her apartment.

If Timey's could be described as modest on the side well off, then Shades' would be modest on the side of scrapping by. The floors hadn't been cleaned in at least a week, cobwebs had begun to form in the corners of the ceiling, and the smell was... well, not quite unpleasant, but it was there enough to let people know this place was lived in.

Then again, no matter what setting it was, the sanitised Octoling standing in the middle of it all would always be out of place.

Shades let out a small sigh. "You do know you can sit down somewhere, right?" she said. Dedf1sh had been rather silent the past 24 hours. Granted, Shades wasn't sure whether the sanitisation process did something to her ability to speak, but it was a safe bet.

The Octoling stared at Shades, but whether or not she was regarded was lost behind those red glasses. "Look, I know you can understand me," Shades continued. "Three was able to convince you to go with this, after all. So could you at least meet me half way?" Still no response. Just the blank stared behind outdated hypno-shades. Dejectedly, Shades let out another sigh. "Whatever. I'm calling it a day."


Eighter never wished to be back in the Deep Sea Metro, but she still had some unfinished business.

Walking down the all too familiar halls, todays events weighed heavily on her mind. To have learned that her friend/rival/hero had been hiding such pain... she considered her own amnesia to be a blessing at times like this. Being able to only look forward in life was rather nice, in hindsight.

What made her journey here difficult, though, was the fact that the entirety of team Yellow-Green was out in force, searching for her, Deej, Shades, or Timey. Just walking through Inkopolis Square was a trial in paranoia.

After a few minutes, she finally arrived at the central terminal. It was exactly as she'd left it: a mess. Particularly the broken telephone.

She raised a choice finger at the wreckage out of sheer spite. Up yours, Tartar.

"Ah, welcome back, No. 10008," the familiar voice of one C.Q. Cumber spoke. "I was under the impression that you already finished all the tasks."

"I did," Eighter responded, "but there's something else for me to wrap up, first."

"That locker again?" the train conductor asked, turning his head to the only open locker on the other side of the station. Fittingly enough, the one numbered 8. "Outside of taking time to chat with the other metro patrons, you spend a lot of time just staring into that locker. You don't even take the hairpiece that's in there."

"Yeah," she replied, "but that's because... I'm not ready for it. But this time, maybe."

"Time, huh?" C.Q. Cumber mused. "You're reliving a memory, aren't you?"

"An important one," Eighter said, as she came to a stop in front of the locker.

"A great enemy you seek to overcome?"

Eighter gave a small smile, as her hand touched the hairpiece. "No," she said. "A mighty friend."


The moment she opened her eyes, she was no longer in the Deep Sea Metro, nor was she dressed in her usual attire.

She found herself upon a rather small platform; square shaped, and roughly ten metres across each side.

Her attire, in turn, had switched from her ronin-like appearance to her old Octarian military uniform.

A figure loomed overhead, standing upon a floating platform, as the heavenly tune from that day played once more.

Eighter gave a sly grin, and Agent Three stared back passively.

"Round 71, my friend," she said, as Agent Three leapt from the platform.

The battle began with the all too familiar Splash Down.

Eighter first found out about this shortly after the destruction of the NILS statue. A strange locker containing a strange item that caused her to remember a fateful battle from two years ago.

At first, this made her weary of her fellow agent. Then, after the first dozen matches, she started noticing some changes in the battle.

She quickly learned it was due to the fact that she was coming to know him. She started noticing the small things that the Three of two years ago would do. The slight hesitation on the trigger, the faint twitch of his brow when he'd activate a Super, she began to learn them all.

Then, when that wasn't enough, she began to learn his strategies; what made him tick.

Before long, though, she found out why he bore such a grimace that day. It wasn't that he was disgusted with fighting an Octoling; it was that he was disgusted with fighting as a concept.

Hence why, after the 30th attempt, she tried talking to the Three of the past. Every time she did, there was the slightest hesitation, yet it never amounted to much more than about two or three missed shots.

Out of several hundred, that is.

The working theory she was that the knowledge she had from the present about him actually influenced how Three of the past reacted to certain situations.

This time, though, she had a plan.

Phase one: The Inkjet.

Eighter had honestly reached a point where she could do this part blindfolded. It was simply a matter of doing a lap around the area until her opponent had to land, then unloading the Octoshot into him.

These past few months, she felt worse about having to do that.

Phase two: Bubble Blower.

The easiest phase, by far. The bubbles themselves didn't do all that much damage, so Eighter just forced her way through them to attack.

Phase three: Autobomb Launcher.

This phase made her come to hate autobombs with a burning passion. Get too close, you're in range of the Hero Shot. Get too far, and you're swarmed by autobombs. Only option: Go close, and prey you don't get hit more times than you can take.

Phase four: Splatbomb and Stinger Missile camping.

Do unto others as you would have done unto you. Two quick, well placed bombs, and it was done.

Rising to his feet once more, Agent Three leapt high into the air, his fist engulfed in rippling ink.

Phase five: Splashdown onslaught.

Eighter had thought up several strategies to combat this phase, though they had varying degrees of success. For the most part though, they boiled down to 'run like hell, then shoot like crazy'.

That wasn't her strategy this time, though.

This time, she tossed the Octo Shot aside.

Agent noticed this. He also noticed Eighter shift her pigment to match his. Not a bad strategy, in order to avoid the damage of the Splashdown, but why?

The Splashdown landed, and as the dust and ink cleared, what was left was the sight of Eighter holding Three's balled fist in one hand, and her other arm around his back in a hug.

To say that Agent Three was rather perplexed would not be untrue. "Um, what are you doing?" he asked.

"Obviously," she said, "I'm hugging you."

"Yes, I can... I can see that." He looked off to the side. It was... not uncomfortable, but just plain weird. "Why?"

"Because you look like you need it."

Were Three able to look more perplexed, he would have. "But, weren't we just trying to kill each other a moment ago?"

"I wasn't," she responded, "and I'm sure you weren't, either."

Three really didn't know what to make of this situation. "Aren't we... enemies, though?"

"No," Eighter replied. "We were never enemies. You already knew that, though, right, Timey?"

The memory faded out, and Eighter gave a small smile.

"That was rather quick," C.Q. Cumber spoke. "Were you able to surpass your foe?"

"I was never trying to surpass a foe," Eighter responded, picking up the hairpiece. "Only the hero that song imprinted on me."


It was the small sneeze that woke Timey that morning. His nose seemed quite blocked up, by the sounds of it.

Sitting up straight, the first thing he wonder was what happened yesterday, or how he ended up in his own bed, as the memory was ever so slightly foggy.

Then, it came rushing back. The match, Rider, everything.

He let out a sigh. Timey felt quite emotionally drained right now, he must admit. Yet, at the same time...

"If we Octolings are known for anything, it's paying our friends back!" "There isn't a chance in hell we'd trade you for anything, Three." "You saved my life, and I have every intention of repaying that debt to you." "If those pricks try anything, I will cut a fish!" "You are our dear friend, and no-one will take that away from you."

He could honestly say he'd never felt so safe.

After a minute of contemplating, Timey moved to the small bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. The first thing he did every morning was stand in front of the mirror, and recount his scars.

A weird morning ritual, to be sure, but it helped give him some peace of mind.

The first one he always noted, the one he put the most effort into covering up, was the light blue burn mark over his right eye. Generally speaking, the mark left by Commander Tartar didn't bother him all that much, but considering he made an effort to try not to draw attention to himself, he'd taken a few lessons on how to apply make-up.

Given that now Rider would be actively looking for him, he decided 'stand-out' was the best method of incognito.

The rest of his scars weren't quite as outlandish as that one. Small cuts on his tentacles, upper arms, and legs, calluses from holding the Hero Shot, small splotches of ink burns, where the Octarian forces got a few hits in. One that he did take particularly fond notice of, though, was the one just above the blue burn. A small wound about 2.5cm long, gotten from when he once had to headbutt a steel beam in Kraken form.

'This is me,' he thought. 'This is just more proof of who I am.'

A small smile crept onto his face. He found it rather ironic that he'd be feeling somewhat thankful to Tartar for taking control of him.

Stepping away from the mirror, Timey put on his usual clothes, and prepared to face the day.

Considering Callie was waiting for him in the living room, he felt certain he could.


A/N:

For the record, the '1/588' chance of identical Inklings is based on the amount of eye/skin/hair combinations for any single gender in the game. For the entire Inkling populace, the actual odds would be 1/1176.

In narrative terms, that's basically a certainty.

I will just say, I've gone through several different iterations of Timey's backstory, up to and including having him actually be Goggles, who left Team Blue after a spat too many with Specs. Of course, that would've been rather out of character for Goggles, I'd have to find a way to make him Agent 3 without making Rider Agent 3.5, and I had the desire to do something different for Timey, ie, the broken hero.

Also, Inner Agent 3. Screw that battle. For what it's worth, I did try to apply the strategy I used to beat it into this, while applying some fiction conventions to give it more story.

Welp, tally ho!