Performance

Okay, so maybe that cursed octarian isn't a spy.

Told you so.

Did you find something?

Agent Three and I have been checking all the trails you two said the defector hasn't been on.
We've found something worth checking out off the Umami Trail.

You owe me an order of chips.

Fine, you're right. She doesn't know who we are. Want us on the coms, gramps?

No, you two need to keep your cover. Three and I will be fine. Just check on Octavio every now and then. Just in case.

xxxxx

"Now that we've gotten the news finished, it's time to announce the splatfest results!" Callie says.

"Boy, this was a close one, wasn't it, Cal?"

"And I'd just like to thank all of you for asking us to put it to a splatfest, rather than let management decide," adds Callie.

"We weren't expecting to host another one," adds Marie. "It was so much fun!"

"Come on," mumbles Pearl. She and Marina are sitting on one bench in the back of the studio; on a bench beside them are the lead singers of Chirpy Chips. They might be in range of the cameras, might not; if they are, it's certainly not enough for anyone to see what they're sitting on. Not on screen, anyway. "Come on."

"Represented by me, Callie! The squids to be, the successful group you all love: Chirpy Chips!"

"And represented by Me, Marie, the up-and-coming mixed-genre duo, Off the Hook!"

Marina sneaks her hand along the bench until her fingers brush Pearl's.

"So! Here's how the teams worked out: the popular vote!"

Pearl takes her hand and squeezes it through the drumroll.

"Woah!" shouts Callie, staring at a screen over their heads.

"Gotta admit, I wasn't expecting that one," adds Marie.

Marina squeezes back, trying to hold both of them still.

"Well, that's not all that matters, right Marie?"

"Of course not, Cal. Bet you anything your team had less turf war wins than mine."

"Loser buys the winner crabcakes?"

This is stupid. Marina shouldn't be nervous. If those are real Inklings, then there's no way they'd have voted for her and Pearl.

"All right! Let's see the battle results."

Pearl squeezes Marina's hand tighter. Marina returns her grip. The only way they'll win, the only reason they'll be hosts, is if this is all fake. If this is just a remembrance. Or if Octarian Leadership has decided they want Marina misleading the inklings.

"Woah!"

"I wasn't expecting that."

But Marina really really wants this. And maybe Grizz Co is a sign that this is real.

"And now for the final results!"

Marina closes her eyes and braces herself. They lost, because of course they did. No sensible inkling would vote for, fight for, an Octo.

"Actually," Marie interrupts, "we've been told you have to wait for the results."

"WHAT?!" Marina's surprised to hear the other group scream it along with herself and Pearl.

Callie laughs out loud. "That's exactly why. You'll know who the new host are on Monday, because they'll be here."

Pearl releases Marina's hand and leaps to her feet (not that it makes much difference); Marina grabs her by the shoulders and yanks her back down, wraps an arm around her head and covers her mouth. "Not another word," she hisses. "Not on air."

Pearl squirms in Marina's arms, but Marina's got her well and truly pinned. Callie and Marie do their standard close, wishing everyone to stay fresh, then the cameras shut off. Marina uncovers Pearl's mouth. "The fuck-"

Marina covers it again. "Nope. Be civil."

Pearl grumbles against Marina's hand, but doesn't struggle. The cameras may be off, but they can still be seen from the street; at least a dozen grinning inklings are peering through the walls of the studio, most of whom are pointing at the pair of them.

Marie smooths down the front of her dress. "All right, who first, Cal?"

"Meet in ten minutes?" Callie asks.

Marie nods and turns to Marina and Pearl. "You two, follow me."

Marina glances down at Pearl, who sighs and stops grumbling. When Marina releases her this time, Pearl presses her lips in a thin line and stomps off after Marie. Marina waves at the inklings watching (and laughing) and follows.

Marie leads them not to the dressing room they've been sharing with the other group, but to what must be her and Callie's personal room. Marina's mouth goes dry as she stares around, eyes wide. From the jackets hung by the door, to the sunglasses lying on one make-up table, to the closet full of elaborate costumes and the minifridge and... there are pictures of them, before and after every splatfest and mid-performance, of them eating with fans (her hearts leap to see someone snapped a picture of the time Callie and Marie sat with them), to-

Pearl touches her arm, and Marina starts. "Snap out of hero mode," Pearl mutters, shutting the door behind them. "Awesome musician and business squid time, not starstruck country squid time. Let her out when we go home."

Marina bites her lip and nods. They've talked about this. So she squares her shoulders and marches across the room, where Marie's filling an electric kettle, some couches and chairs arranged by a small table beside her. Pearl takes a seat on the couch, and Marina sits beside her.

Marina isn't sure how, but they manage polite small talk (well, Pearl manages; Marina's still trying not to fan out) until they each have a cup of tea and Callie's joined, them, carrying a plate of cookies. Marie takes a sip of tea, sets her teacup on the table, and says, "So, you must be wondering who won."

"No shit," Pearl says.

Marina places a hand on Pearl's leg, a silent promise to gag her again if she starts embarrassing them. "Inkopolis management must think the suspense will drive up ratings," she says. "But if we'll be here on Monday, or not, then surely we need to know?"

Callie kicks her feet up on the coffee table. "There's something in the final contracts, the ones you'll sign if you're the full hosts, that isn't in the temporary contracts. And we need to know you're okay with it before we give anyone the results."

She has to go to the frontlines in the Inkling war, she has to promote a company that will gradually destroy Inkopolis, she needs to divert her pay to sending better food and equipment underground. Dozens upon dozens of scenarios race through Marina's mind, and her voice shakes as she asks, "What condition is it, then?"

Marie sets down her teacup, locks eyes with Pearl, and says, "From the time you sign the contracts until the hosts after you take over Inkopolis news completely, you must not enter any romantic relationships."

Relief pulses through Marina, so sharp she almost laughs. That's it? She can't date an inkling? By the zapfish, that was never going to happen anyway. But they think she's a squid, so she asks, "Isn't the lead singer of the other group married?"

"Their contract would have that they can't get divorced or in any sort of scandal," Callie says, eating her third cookie. "Romance gets messy, and they want the news hosts to seem like their relationships are perfect."

Marina relaxes back against the couch and takes a cookie herself. "That won't be a problem. Right, Pearl?"

But Pearl, when Marina looks at her, has flushed pinker than Marina's ever seen and is crumbling her cookie into tiny pieces. For once, she's silent.

Marina nudges her. "Pearl, really, you know what this job is. Doing the news live every two hours, five days a week, and recording us doing it so they can air it during off-hours and our days off. One splatfest a month; that'll take time to set up, not to mention the rehearsals for each one, and those performances. And we'll still be setting up concerts on our off-days and writing new music and all that 'branding' stuff M. Dusa's always going on about. How would we even have time to romance someone?" She shakes her head and takes a sip of her tea.

"You'd have plenty of time if it was with each other," says Marie.

Marina chokes. Tea comes out her nose. She almost drops her cup in her scramble for a napkin.

Marie smiles wickedly. "Oh, should I not have said that?"

"Mar and I are cousins, or we'd've had rumors, too," says Callie. Marina presses the napkins against her burning face and does not look at anyone.

"The fuck do you mean, too?"

"Don't tell me you haven't heard," says Marie.

Marina looks over at Pearl, just in time to see Pearl looking at her. Without saying a word, the two scoot as far apart as the couch will let them, blushing so hard their ink stains their cheeks. "We can agree to no romance," says Pearl.

NOTES:

Here's where I start with timeline deviations. Sort of. The date isn't explicitly stated, but based on everything else, it'd probably be Feb-April. An event in Octo Expansion—unlockable, very difficult—is said to have occurred 'two years ago,' and involves Agent 3. Further, it's implied Octo Expansion starts immediately after said event (or close enough that it was a recent event). Finally, Marina and Pearl are in contact with the characters dealing with Octo Expansion the entire time... which takes less than a dozen text message conversations of time.

I call shenanigans.

Even if the reality has Marina/Pearl much less involved than they seem to be, or if ¾ of the text conversations are left out, I find it difficult to believe they were in contact with Octo Expansion information for two freaking years. But I can believe Agent 3/Captain Cuttlefish were gone for 2 years (roughly). It seems a lot more likely that Octo Expansion itself takes place over a month, two at the most, and either that 'two years ago' event is NOT recent or didn't happen two years ago. But that event's going to be offscreen anyway, unmentioned, so we don't need to worry about it beyond that.