"Faster, faster!" came the yell as Three's hands held the steering wheel with an iron grip. The muscles in her arms were so full of tension they barely responded to her brain's commands as the car turned the corner with the barest squeak from the tires. From there, she accelerated again, the four-cylinder engine whirring loudly as the needle on the tachometer hit the redline and shivered.
"Change gear, curse it!"
This time Three's arms responded more readily, her left hand falling to the gearshift between her and her barking passenger. Her feet mercifully lifted off the throttle and stomped on the clutch. The engine settled as she shifted the car up into third gear, then screamed again as she reengaged the clutch, and pressed back on the throttle. She repeated the procedure once more three-seconds later to bring the car up to fourth gear before threading the small green hatchback through a chicane and then braked after crossing a strip of yellow tape on the blackened asphalt.
The car sat motionlessly, its engine settling at idle as she put it into neutral and anxiously glanced sideways at her passenger. The terse expression she wore as she wrote furiously on her clipboard told her all she needed to know.
"I don't need to tell you, do I?" She asked bruskly.
Three replied with a simple red flash.
"Then make sure you do better next time."
A pale-green flash.
"Better be. We've been at this for a few sessions now and while you're getting some of the technique down, you're still too timid. The whole reason we do this kind of thing in an old parking lot is because there's nothing to crash into."
Three held onto the wheel, shoulders sagging, her natural green colouration dulling with ripples of melancholy blue.
The other inkling pulsed blue and set her clipboard down on her lap. "Look, Cortina," her tone much softer than before, "I know you're anxious about going fast in a car, I know you keep seeing that accident again and again in your head, but you can't let that pin you down. You told me you wanted to get past it, didn't you?"
Green flash.
"And you want to learn how to drive like your mama?"
Green flash.
"Then do as I bloody tell you!" She snapped. "When I say 'faster,' go faster. Unless I say 'brake,' you don't brake. You can do better than this. A lot of the other kids in the class are faster than you and they don't have a tenth your skill or talent. That's not acceptable for a daughter of the Mountain Queens. You want your mama to be proud, then force yourself to do better."
Three flashed pale-green once more and then let herself out of the car, leaving the door open for the next student of Clio Trailmaker's Driving School.
Three stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket as the cold whipped about her, feeling about a centimetre high. She didn't look at the gaggle of other students waiting their turn. All of them had posted better times around the autocross course than she had, and being the worst among her peers wasn't something she was used to. The fact that she had a legacy to live up to only made it worse.
As she crossed the disused parking lot and neared the fence that separated it from the actual, in-use, parking lot, she spotted someone waiting for her, garbed in a simple back hoodie, her mantle a dark-purple fading to black near the dangling bulbs of her tentacles.
"Another rough session with Iya Clio, eh?" Katrina asked. "Same as last time?"
Three flashed green with spots of blue, earning a small smirk from the other girl.
"Yeah, well, you're a daughter of one of the Mountain Queens, and one of two that Dad wasn't able to conquer, so of course they're going to be hard on you. They want you to live up to your legacy. They know you can drive, so of course, she'd be upset if you kept driving as bad as that."
Three grimaced and her mantle turned yellow with spots of lighter yellow while rippling pale blue with shame.
"It's pretty obvious," Katrina said. "I bet even most of those lead-foots and ninnies in your class could tell that much. You're still nervous behind the wheel, at least when you're driving fast." Katrina gestured to the small, dark-purple roadster next to them, it's fabric roof in place. "Come on, I'll drive you to the meet."
Three slid herself into the passenger seat and Katrina drove the car out of the parking lot.
"I didn't think it would be so hard," Three said as they turned onto the street. "I thought I'd gotten past it when I got my licence in the first place."
"That's what I woulda' thought. You relapsing or something?"
"I don't know." Three slouched in her seat before an imaginary admonishment forced her to sit upright again. "Maybe it's because part of me feels like I'm just doing what that… that idiot in the accident did."
Three heard the soft click of Katrina's beak behind her lips as the girl continued to stare straight ahead. "I guess I didn't think about it from that perspective. It's like you tackled half the issue when you got your licence and now you're dealing with the other half."
"Maybe. Maybe if I'd known about Mama's past a lot earlier, things would be easier for me."
Katrina hummed. "Maybe, maybe not. It's scary for most people when you take a car to its limits for the first few times. Heck, it's sometimes even scarier when you're a passenger."
Three gave her a doubtful look, mantle burgundy. Katrina smiled shamelessly. "Okay, so maybe I wasn't all that scared. My parents have driven me around since I got out of the tank, so I was way used to it by the time I was driving. Kinda' makes me wonder how your mom hooked up with your dad and Purdie."
"I don't know," Three admitted. "But I'll never get closer to Mama if I get stonewalled here. At this rate, I'll have to repeat the class."
Air hissed softly through Katrina's beak. "Yeah, you definitely don't want to do that or Iya Clio will be twice as hard on you. Maybe Mom'll have some advice for ya' when we get to the meet."
"I hope so."
Despite the chill in the air that came with the onset of winter, the Trailmaker car meet still happened most nights. Although there were virtually no motorcycles and fewer vehicles overall, there were still plenty of participants, showing off and looking at each other's vehicles in the light of parking lot lamps as the sun waned with the coming of night.
Katrina parked her car next to the Trailmaker's motorhome and the two got out. Already, some familiar faces were headed in their direction.
"Hey, Three!" Four's natural yellow-orange mantle, eyes, and blue jacket stood out amongst the muted colours characteristic of autumn and fall. Her ever-present smile and boundless energy were welcome after what happened at the driving school.
Three greeted her with a warm-green colour, just slightly more vivid than her natural colour.
"How did class go?"
Three responded with muted grey spots.
"'So-so, huh? Well, even you can't be ace at everything, Three."
"I'm not ace at most things," Three insisted.
"Coulda' fooled me," Four smirked, but she was only teasing.
"Is Eight here yet?"
Four pulsed blue with a hint of red. "Yeah, she's here, but she's kinda' involved with stuff. She brought Vella along. Trying to get her interested in the car meet, I think."
Three's expression soured, her mantle turning olive-green. Vella was Eight's sister, who was technically still a member of the Octarian Army. That was bound to cause problems when literally every other Octarian in Inkopolis was a deserter – worse, Eight would probably be considered a traitor.
"Any issues?"
"She's behavin', for now." Four glanced back over her shoulder towards a collection of old vans where most of the Octolings were gathered, as usual. Three couldn't spot Eight herself; however.
"Want me to send 'er your way?"
Three pulsed red. "I have to talk to Auntie Silvia first. You can just let her know I'm here."
"Whatever you say. Want me to give Eight a kiss for ya' too?" She grinned mischievously.
"Go ahead."
Three's nonchalant tone caught Four off guard, momentarily leaving her with a stunned expression, eliciting a snicker from Katrina.
"Not so fun when the bluff is caught, eh?"
Four opened her mouth to respond but Three cut her off with a raised hand. "Just go, Four. I'm sure she could use the help with Vella right now. Just tell her I'm here."
Four pulsed grey and skipped merrily away, back towards the crowd of Octolings who welcomed her back warmly.
"I think Mom's in," Katrina said, already heading into the motorhome. "Come on. Might as well get the pep talk over with."
Three exhaled and followed her inside.
The motorhome's interior was dimly lit, but Three's eyes quickly adjusted and she joined Katrina at the small booth in the kitchen area. On the other side of the table waited Silvia Trailmaker.
Silvia basically looked like an older version of her daughter in most aspects, with the same eye and mantle colour, the former having the depth of many years experience.
"Had a rough day?" Silvia asked with a knowing smile.
"Same as before," Three said, trying not to slouch or show just how disheartened she actually was. "Auntie Clio says I need to push harder and I'm too timid."
"And bad memories are still holding her back," Katrina added.
Silvia flashed green. She had been best friends with Fulvia Scarletteri, Three's mother, before her death at the hands of a reckless and likely intoxicated driver.
Silvia peered straight into Three's eyes with a hard gaze, and the teen felt herself wilt slightly in a way few people could actually manage. But then, few people knew her the way Silvia did.
"So what was different about this compared to getting your original driver's licence?"
"I think it's because it feels like reckless driving," Three replied. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "It feels like… the other side of the accident."
Silvia leaned back a bit and closed her eyes slowly, considering. Three wasn't expecting any kind of revelation that would be the magic ladder to get her over this mental wall she was up against, but Silvia had been a road racer most of her life. Even if she didn't have an answer, she would likely have insight.
"I think you're just being stupid," Silvia said, and Three winced. That wasn't what she had expected.
"You're not doing anything reckless. It's a closed course made of soft, harmless traffic cones and you're with a very experienced driver and instructor who has their own brake pedal. What about that is reckless?"
Three opened her mouth but no words emerged. Her mantle dulled and rippled blue with shame.
Silvia's mantle showed spots of blue and she placed her hands on the table. "Cortina, nobody can call what we do 'safe.' You could probably call it downright stupid, I guess, but we do try to make sure that what we do puts only us at risk, not other motorists. That's why we do it on deserted roads where nobody goes. We have people at both ends making sure other drivers know not to go there, we take steps. The guy that killed your mom and nearly killed you was a public menace. That's not what you're learning to do; you're learning the techniques your mom and I had to learn the hard way, through practical and painful experience. You're learning to race, not drive like some road-raging maniac.
Three pulsed green. "That's what I keep trying to tell myself, and I know that in my head, but every time, I just freeze up. I don't know why I'm so afraid of this."
"Probably because you've had a stigma against this thing for half your life." Silvia opened her hands as if she were stating the obvious. "You've always equated fast driving with murder until you learned your own mom was a road racer. You need to realize that what we do is a sport. It's not exactly the only reckless one around."
"A sport." Three hadn't thought of it that way before. "I guess I can try thinking of it that way."
"You do that, because you know Clio's not going to give up on you, and neither am I."
"I understand. Thank you, Auntie."
"Oh stop that," Silvia said, her lips curving in a small smile. "You make me sound old." She immediately held up a finger towards Katrina. "Not one word from you."
Katrina pulsed grey innocently, then turned a lush green. "I wasn't going to say anything."
Silvia ignored her and stood, retrieving a scarf of byzantine purple from a nearby hook. "Well, let's get outside before people start to wonder what we might be talking about. There's enough of a rumour mill about you." She eyed Three, who looked sheepishly away.
Three didn't mind leaving though; she wanted to get back to Four and see Eight. She hoped she was having better luck getting over her hurdles.
Eight loved the car meet. The familiar thumps of overpowered sound systems and flashing arrays of lights had once been bewildering to her, but now they were almost a welcome home call. The sounds of animated conversation that accompanied them helped the place feel very alive and a stark contrast to where she had grown up, as she was sure it was for the smaller, younger girl at her side.
"It's amazing, isn't it?"
She looked at Vella who had her arms wrapped tightly around her. Her bright-yellow tentacles clung to her scalp and the side of her head, the tops tucked into the high collar of her jacket.
"It's cold," she muttered. "Why would people be out here in this… weather instead of inside where it's warm and doing something productive."
The way Vella said the word 'weather' as if it were foreign was a quirk unique to Octarians who had been on the surface for a short time. For the past hundred years, most Octarians had rarely, if ever, seen real weather. All due to a dreary life living in collapsing underground domes.
Even though she was more acclimatized, even Eight had to admit she felt the chill in the air, especially with the breeze coming off the ocean, only partially blocked by the embankments around the parking lot.
"Because it's fun," Eight replied. "I know it doesn't seem to make sense right now, but-."
"But it will soon," Vella finished brusquely. "I know."
Eight flushed slightly. She had said that phrase a fair number of times since she had given herself the task of educating her little sister about the surface world, Inkling culture, and trying to convince her to embrace it. Unfortunately, it wasn't easy to convince someone who was technically still a loyal soldier to associate with deserters and traitors.
Gripping her cane tighter helped Eight release a tiny bubble of tension and refocus. "Well, we're here. What would you like to look at? There are all kinds of interesting machines and some of the other octolings have made some very nice motorized homes out of old vehicles. Some of them have impressive electronic setups that I'm sure would interest you."
Vella exhaled and shivered. "Might as well, since we're here."
"Don't worry, I'll get you something hot in a little while."
Eight brought her to one of the vans – actually the van that she had been abducted in. It's unfinished and rough interior had transformed since then into a reasonably comfortable looking small home, with highly compact versions of familiar household appliances. Probably its most interesting feature was the entertainment system that had been rigged together using an old electronic tablet.
At first, they kept their distance as Kura, one of the van's owners, demonstrated the tablet's functionality, controlling various aspects of the van's electronics, not just the entertainment system. It was enough to get Vella to forget the cold and move closer to try and get a better look.
Eight smiled as she watched from behind, content to observe from a distance. Hopefully one of the others would be able to pierce the hard shell around her mind.
Four had been watching Vella and Eight from nearby. She knew Vella would act differently when an inkling wasn't in the immediate vicinity and wanted to see for herself how she would behave. What she saw bothered her a little.
In many ways, it reminded her of the relationship she had always had with her own sister. Although Dana was merely the older twin, she had always assumed the role of the older sister.
Despite being twins, the two of them never had much in common. While Four could enjoy many of her sisters favourite activities, she looked down on most of Four's own favourites. Her childhood had often been a solitary one as Dana would only take her on playdates with her friends at their mother's insistence, and in the presence of her peers, Four's favourite things were often relegated to the realm of "weird." Dana would all but abandon any pretense of being her sister in those moments too, no matter how earnestly Four tried to be a good and not embarrass her.
In the case of Eight and Vella, the roles were somewhat reversed, with the role of the 'weird' sister being Eight, the older; and the cold sister trying to keep her distance, the younger Vella.
Four shook her head clear. Those were memories she had been trying to avoid for weeks, ever since she had come back home from the Harvest Ball. Only now, she was seeing those memories with a much more cynical eye than she had before. She couldn't quite explain why.
As Vella left Eight's side and went to investigate one of the vans, Four approached her.
"Hey, Eight!"
Eight turned, leaning just a bit more on her cane. "Hello, Four. Did you get here before us?"
"Yeah, I saw you two when you got here but Three showed up at around the same time and I kinda' wanted to check up on her first."
Eight pursed her lips. "And? How did it go?"
"Not great, from what I can tell. I know she probably feels bad but even she isn't good at everything."
"She never claimed to be," Eight said, stuffing one of her thinly gloved hands into the pocket of her jacket. "But this means a lot to her. It is about connecting to her mother."
"I know, I know, but you know her: she doesn't like to admit weakness."
Eight frowned and glanced at her feet, taking a moment to arrange her thoughts. "I do not think that is exactly right. I think it is more like she does not want to let anyone down, especially us."
Four let out a sharp puff of air that condensed into a tight vapour cloud in front of her face until the wind carried it away. "Three couldn't let me down if she tried. Anyway, she's talking to Silvia right now. She'll probably be here in a few minutes." She grinned at her. "Can't leave her girlfriend unattended now, eh?"
Eight blushed and pigeon toed shyly. She still wasn't used to being referred to as Three's girlfriend. While they had technically been dating for almost a month, they hadn't been a real couple until barely two weeks ago, and much of that time had been spent apart, what with Three busy moving in, and her job as Callie and Marie's bodyguard. On top of that, Eight had her own job as Pearl and Marina's maid, and she now had her little sister to keep an eye on.
"I… I suppose not, but you make it sound as if she is the male in the relationship."
"Because she is," Four said with a laugh. "You're way girlier than Three. Even Katrina is girlier than she is."
Eight didn't respond to that. Instead, she looked back at the van where Vella had moved to the front of the small crowd as Kura went into the more mechanical and hardware aspects of her conversion.
"She having a good time?" Four asked.
Eight shrugged her tentacles. "I think she is interested in Kura's conversion, but she is not used to the cold and that's probably making things worse for her. We probably will not be able to stay for more than an hour."
"Well, at least she's getting out and socializing," Four offered. "Beats holding everyone at arms length because she thinks they're traitors or something."
Eight sighed unhappily, showing a troubled expression, like a mother dealing with a difficult child. "I do not think that will be going away anytime soon. She thinks that giving in and having fun in any way is an act of disloyalty."
Four laughed. "Yeah, sounds like the Octarian Army alright, but hey, you all had to break out of that somehow. If I remember it right, you all had fun first and then you left the army."
Eight considered that for a moment. Her face scrunched in that unique way it always did whenever she was deep in thought, and her tentacles bobbed slightly. "Maybe." She looked back towards Vella and Kura. "Perhaps this is a first step."
A few minutes later, Three, Katrina, and Silvia appeared. Kura briefly halted her explanation and bowed, as did the other octarians, save for Vella who stared around, confused.
Eight hurried to her side and gently grasped her arm with her free hand, pulling her a few steps forward.
"Matron Silvia, this is my little sister, Vella. She is a newcomer. Vella, this is Silvia Trailmaker, she is an inkling matron. That's what the purple scarf around her neck means. She is basically the leader of this whole group."
Silvia shrugged, casually. "Decent enough for a quick explanation I guess. Nice to meet you, Vella. Your big sister is quite the valued member of the community. I hope we can make you feel welcome."
Four smiled to herself, concurring. The inkling system of leadership was one of the most important things for an Octarian living in Inkopolis to learn, especially regarding Matron Silvia, who was probably the closest thing to a matron any of the Octarians had, and was their only source of official representation. Unfortunately, explaining the whys and hows of that was often difficult for people from a highly regimented social system. From the Octarian perspective, matrons were basically a combination of a mother, commanding officer, and priestess rolled into one.
Vella looked around anxiously, her tentacles curling defensively, but after a couple of seconds she managed a slight bow of her head, saying nothing.
"Um, she is not used to speaking Inklish," Eight apologized.
Silvia didn't appear bothered, assuming she understood the body language at all. "It's not a big deal. Inklish isn't the only language in the world, but, if she's going to be living here, she should probably polish it up, hm?"
"Of course," Eight bowed her head. "I will do what I can."
Silvia moved on to speak with some of the other octolings, while the rest turned back to resume listening to Kura.
Eight sighed and pressed two fingers to her forehead, probably worried that Vella may have committed some kind of social faux pas.
Three came up next to her, her mantle sporting yellow spots. So far, it seemed Octarians weren't able to understand Tuk'yan, the unspoken colour language inklings often used. Fortunately, Eight knew Three well enough to know what she was asking anyway.
"She still thinks that associating with inklings in any way is some kind of treason. We have tried to be gentle about it but we have not been able to convince her that she has been told mostly lies her whole life. She still thinks it is some kind of trick."
"To be fair," Four interjected gently, "It's kind of understandable she'd have a hard time believing people who are deserters and traitors. It's gonna' take time. Heck, that officer we captured was more willing to believe us than they were you."
"That same officer is the one who ordered her to stay behind," Eight pointed out. Her gaze fell back upon Vella, her sister's tentacles once again tucked into her collar. "I wonder if she feels abandoned."
Katrina pulsed grey. "Everybody's gotta' grow up some time. I don't pretend to know everything about your situation, but it sounds like this officer did her a favour."
"I know, and I think Vella will soon realize it too, but she probably thinks it treasonous."
Katrina huffed, her mantle turning a dark brown. "That's politics. Leave it to the politicians."
Four laughed. "Don't worry, Eight. Eventually, Vella will end up having so much fun that she'll forget all about what Octavio might think. Besides, the more Octolings there are here means it's that much easier for the ones still in the domes to get by, right?"
Eight frowned deeply and stared out towards the West, the vague direction of Octo Valley. "Maybe," she mumbled. "I hope things are getting better for them, and that they will accept the offer of peace."
Three wrapped an arm around her torso and Eight, apparently feeling comforted, lay her head against her shoulder.
Four couldn't help but smile. "How about I keep an eye on Vella for a bit, eh Eight? You two probably wanna' talk or somethin'."
Three flashed green and began gently dragging Eight by her torso, not waiting for an answer. Katrina watched them go with an amused smile.
"'Tina's pretty assertive for being so cursed shy."
Four giggled a little to herself, recalling how Three could go from a blushing lump of putty in Eight's hand from a little cuddling, to a no-nonsense combat instructor throwing her girlfriend around like a sack of flour within the same minute. Calling their relationship abnormal was an understatement, even leaving their different species out of the equation.
"Well, I don't think I know any girl besides Hachiko who'd be able to handle it." Katrina generally called Eight by her given name.
Four pulsed grey. "Maybe it's destiny. I just hope they'll be able to have enough free time to actually be a couple. Probably not in the near future though."
Katrina eyed her. "Is it really that bad?"
"I don't know. I hope not. Relationships seem tough enough without the fate of a whole nation to worry about."
Katrina huffed. "Why are you guys worrying about it? Shouldn't this stuff be left up to the politicians?"
"Maybe, but the politicians weren't there, our group was and still is. We're the only ones who can do this." She tilted her head towards the Octarians, still happily talking and laughing together. "And they're counting on us. We just don't want to let them down. Because if we mess up, things are going to get ugly."
Four stood up straighter and lightly smacked her cheeks, putting on a smile. "So, we just won't fail. I mean, we've dealt with tougher stuff, and we're like a dream team. One way or another, we'll make things work."
Four would only realize later that rather than trying to convince Katrina, she had been trying to convince herself.
Callie felt like she was being boiled alive. The slightest touch on her skin was like a lick of fire as she rolled and squirmed in agony. Her funnel leaked prodigious amounts of ink into her bedsheets, which she smeared with every toss and turn, making her feel filthy.
Like every inkling girl, she had been warned many times growing up about the difficulty of enduring this stage of her physical development. Although often referred to simply as 'second puberty', for the benefit of other species, inklings knew it by its proper name: yun'brennen. "Yun" being the old inkling word for female and "brennen" meaning "burning." Callie was finding it aptly named.
Callie's body made a sticky, wet sound as she sat up. Despite being completely naked and uncovered she felt like she was in a sauna. Even the thermostat had been turned down to try and keep it as cool as reasonably possible. She was seriously considering opening a window to let the onset of winter help cool her.
She reached for the pitcher of water on her night table, only to remember she had drained it barely ten minutes ago. Sighing with frustration, she stood. The stretching of her legs and not having her skin constantly rubbing on the sticky, wet sheets provided much needed relief. She paused only to stretch her arms before grabbing the pitcher and heading out of her room.
Turning the corner in the L-shaped hallway, she saw a light coming from the kitchen. The clinking of cutlery and the sounds of hearty chewing betrayed the presence of another.
She emerged from the hallway and made a right turn. Sat at the kitchen's island counter, enjoying a late-night meal, was Marie.
Marie kept her eyes on her tablet as she stuffed her face with a paucity of manners she never would have displayed normally, but Callie was all too familiar with that surge of hunger driving her cousin to behave so uncharacteristically, it was starting to gnaw at her too. The spread of food in front of Marie now brought it to the fore. There was no point in trying to resist it.
It was only when her steps transitioned from the living room carpet to kitchen tile that she noticed Marie's eyes, and how narrow her pupils were, mere crosshairs against her golden irises.
Callie paused. It was unwise to approach Marie recklessly when she was in such a state. As their yun'brennen advanced, it seemed necessary for Marie to let the old beast out for air from time to time.
Callie gave her a wide berth on her way to the kitchen faucet. Halfway there, Marie finally noticed her, eyes snapping up and then the pupils relaxed once they identified her.
"Callie," she said, her cheeks half full. "Sorry, did I wake you?"
Callie gave her a rueful smile. "Assuming I could sleep."
Marie swallowed and then returned a trace of a smile. "Yeah, same with me." She sat up straight, her silk housecoat slipping from one of her shoulders, revealing flushed skin.
Like Callie, Marie had taken to the habit of sleeping naked, but she was unwilling to walk around the house that way. The look on her face and the state of her mantle clearly indicated she was quite warm also. Although they both suffered from the burning, Callie's abnormally long tentacles allowed her to better regulate her heat compared to Marie's. Callie also didn't have to deal with the beast.
"There are some fish nuggets in the freezer if you want to heat those up."
"Thanks, I'm about to start losing it myself."
Callie postponed refilling her pitcher until she had the nuggets in the microwave and heating up. All the while, Marie continued feeding herself and staring at her tablet.
"Anything happening?"
"Marie pulsed grey. "Oh, the same old. The usual suspects from the Assembly are calling us bad influences on today's youth and saying we're too powerful for our age; inkling hatch rates are still down, and that new bridge over the canals is late and over budget."
Callie sighed and lightly splashed herself with some water, letting the droplets run down her body and not caring if they ended up on the floor before evaporating. "Please tell me there's at least a little bit of good news."
Maire took a moment to swallow a dumpling before answering. "Well, business around the Inkopolis Plaza area has picked up recently, thanks to our investment; some Octarians have been accepted into nursing school, and the official release date for Ink Theory's new album was finally announced."
"Oh good, I've been looking forward to that one."
Soon enough, the fish nuggets were finished and Callie sat down with them across the counter from Marie. As the two shared all the food between them, Callie found her mind wandering to other things.
"Three isn't home yet?"
Marie glanced up. "Not yet. She's normally out late on days she goes to the car meet."
Callie pulsed blue. "She doesn't get to relax very often. I'm glad she's getting out more."
"Not having to keep up a facade at home probably helps with that. Speaking of which, I imagine she's a little anxious about becoming a big sister."
Callie smirked. "Nah, she's already been acting like one to Four. I don't think she's worried about that."
"Being a big sister to a girl only two years younger and being a big sister to a couple of infants is very different," Marie pointed out. "Remember when you became a big sister? Not quite the same thing, is it?"
"You basically became one the same moment I did. Anytime something happened to one of us it affected the other."
"Because we've always done everything together. It was only in the last two years we tried doing our own things." Marie trailed off and frowned. Callie did likewise. She knew where this thread of conversation was leading.
"It was inevitable that we'd be wanting to do our own thing eventually. The real issue was that we forgot to make time for each other. We got so caught up in our careers that we forgot what the point of it all was."
Marie flashed green and stared at a single piece of microwave lasagna sitting on the plate immediately in front of her. "Do you think that's what happened to the Octarians? Did they become so focused on us that they didn't realize what they were doing to themselves?"
Callie's mantle turned a muddy brown colour. "I don't know. It never seemed like they had a real plan beyond 'defeating' us. I'm not even sure they understand what that would really mean. Then again, they've been living the way they have for so long, maybe it's impossible for them to have real perspective without outside help. That's how it was for all the refugees."
Marie set down her fork and stared levelly at Callie. "It's been over two weeks and they still haven't responded to our letter."
Callie took a bite out of a buttered sweet bun, her eyes glazing over as her mind reached out to memories relatively recent, yet seemingly far away. "I'm not surprised. It's the first correspondence they've gotten from anyone for over a century. The Salmonids can't read or write, after all."
Marie flashed green, the patterns and colours underneath the surface of her mantle shifting with deep consideration. "We still can't wait too long. I'm sure they have a lot to consider, but we can't just allow things to continue as they are."
"Another two weeks," Callie suggested, showing green spots amidst a dark-brown background in her mantle. "Any more and not only would be pushing our luck, we'd probably not seem very interested in them. That might mean they end up not believing us."
"So, two-weeks, and then we send someone to check in? Makes sense I guess." There was no question about whom they would send, either. Then, Marie decided to ask the inevitable question: "What if they refuse?"
Callie stuffed a large clump of ready-made salad into her mouth and chewed, her mantle turning a dark red. They both knew the answer to that, and it wasn't what either of them wanted.
"Let's just worry about that when it comes. We'll drive ourselves crazy thinking about it now when we have so many other things we're dealing with. Besides, we might end up worrying for nothing. I may have never met anyone from the Ravalda, but I met enough in the upper echelons of the army to know they're not stupid enough to refuse to so much as look into our offer, at the very least."
"Nana always said never to underestimate people's stupidity when it comes to politics," Marie reminded her.
"They still need to make the decision themselves." Callie's eyes hardened as she tore a large piece of chicken with her beak and chewed it. "We have to give them the chance, at least."
Marie pulsed blue. "If that's how you want it."
"This isn't about me," Callie replied sharply. "It never was. We'll do what we have to if it comes to that, but we have to hope it won't."
The conversation ended there, leaving several more questions unanswered, or perhaps, unacknowledged, if the worst-case scenario should happen; such as what guise a reformed Octarian Empire would take, and, more importantly, who would lead it.
Author's Notes:
So yes, despite the success of the previous stories, as we check back in with our Inkopolis-based heroes, there are some issues to. Vella has issues with Eight, Three has issues with herself, Four has issues with the family she was hatched into, and Callie and Marie have issues with their bodies. These will influence the events of the future and things will spiral more than you might expect.