Splatoon: The Drafted Squid
Sentry
When the bots were unleashed on them, Portic laughed. They were silly looking in his opinion, wobbling piles of scraps resembling Octotroopers? Ha! The fact that they coughed smoke? Pff! That they were immune to ink?
Probably funny somewhere else to somebody.
The moment the eyes on the machines flashed red, Rinse fired multiple rounds in succession and blasted the metallic soldiers in the face. Unfortunately, all that seemed to do was irritate them to the point where they would return fire. Small hatches on the front of their little platforms revealed several small cannons. Portic managed to make another mistake by thinking that they were cute. The rapid-fire of fuchsia that erupted from the nozzles had changed his mind. Especially considering they were repeated by at least a dozen others. A tidal wave of violet crashed over the plains and the group barely had time to duck before it splattered onto the grass.
They all rolled back, the sting of foreign ink bleeding into their skin. With gritted teeth and gasps for breath, they retreated behind a small knoll. As the group settled down behind the short hill, Rinse laid Sumera down and rested her head gently on the side. She did not complain and continued to snooze.
"Gah!" Phish yelped as a fuchsia ink bullet rocketed by his tentacles.
Rinse scowled and stood up from behind the hill with his Bamboozler level to his shoulders. He aimed towards the several mechanical monstrosities and steadied his trigger finger. He fired once, twice, thrice. Each and every blast of blue that spiraled out of the barrel splattered across the metallic surface of the metal Octotroopers and dripped down harmlessly. It did create a rather lovely purple glow as it passed by the red eyes of the machines, which Portic thought fit well.
Because that was what they were about to see in a few seconds.
At least, that was the most probable choice. Portic watched as Rinse backed down with a crouch and tended towards his weapon with a scowl with fuchsia ink stains that dripped down from his head and Bamboozler. Ophi looked like she was about to have a panic attack while Phish appeared to console his...sleeping bag?
Meanwhile, throughout the chaos, Portic stood with his bamboo "baseball bat" held over his helmet. A brief thought crossed his mind. Carefully, he removed his helmet from his head and exposed the blue tentacles that dangled carelessly from his head and placed his headgear on his bamboo weapon. He slowly raised the decoy above his head and the hill. A second passed, then Ink whistled as it whizzed by and knocked the helmet off of its perch.
It was Portic's turn to whistle. "Nice shot."
He stooped down to pick up his helmet and plant it back on his cranium while the enemy ink dripped back down the top of it. Rinse grunted and reached for his head. He cringed somewhat and reeled back, but it turned out that he just wanted to clean off the top of the helmet. Rinse wiped off the violet toxins and went straight back to his targets.
"Got any plans, gang?" Portic asked as more bullets of ink whizzed past his head.
Ophi squeaked as one came dangerously close to her helmet. While several puddles of violet collected on the ground, she yelled, "Er, don't die!"
Adjacent to her, Phish looked somewhat sick. He glared at Ophi and placed his sleeping bag at the side. "That's it? Oh. Sounds easy."
As the storm of death rained on overhead, Portic just shrugged. "I mean, none of these have come close to hitting us. They don't seem very efficient."
"I don't think they need to." Ophi commented as she glanced up.
Soon after she spoke up, a glob of ink sailed by. It splattered onto Rinse's arm. He hissed and stepped down behind cover and brushed the ink off of his sleeve.
splashed onto the grass. It sizzled as if it were a puddle of acid. Rinse appeared agitated beyond belief; he stowed away his Bamboozler and tended to Sumera as she laid on the ground.
All of a sudden, Phish perked up and shouted, "I've got it!"
Everyone spun towards him. He stood about as tall as he could without his head stuck in the line of fire. His bedroll sat upright with a single Inkbrush that stuck out of it. "I- Uh, I figured it out. We have to get around them."
"How?" Ophi asked frantically while violet ink sprayed over the top of the knoll. "You'll be splatted as soon as you leave the hill."
He scowled and ducked again. Phish wiped away ink from his tie. "I never said I knew how we'd get around them. Just that we need to!"
Ophi adjusted her wooden animal necklace in frustration. "Why?"
"Uh- How else are we going to make it to the other side?!" Phish shouted in indignation.
The both of them glared at each other while liquid bullets flew overhead. The rattle and clanks of machinery grew louder and closer as time went on. Portic bit his lip, glanced around, and sat still.
"...Ah, whatever." He shrugged and ran towards the other two.
Portic reached at Phish's sleeping bag, much to the others' surprise. He reached out and gripped the Inkbrush on top and raised it towards the sky. "Ha!"
The thin brush dangled in the sky. It was a simple stick with a thin streak of bristles that stood upright that held a few blue splotches left on the top. Hardly anything impressive especially in comparison to the barrage of enemy fire that flew past. A few of the purple ink that flew past was split into two as it volleyed into the bristles.
The lean Inkling set the top of the Inkbrush on the ground and bent his legs. He glanced behind at Phish and grinned. "So, just make it to the other side?"
Their female companion blinked in surprise. "You're really going through with this?"
"That's perfect!" Phish stated excitably, then frowned soon after, "Oh, wait, we'll still be peppered as soon as we leave."
They heard the sound of someone's throat being cleared. Behind them, Rinse cocked his Bamboozler readily. He nudged Ophi with his elbow and the small female Inkling immediately held up her own ink weapon. She looked sort of nervous, though she held her weapon with a shaky nod. Already, the hill they took shelter behind started to overflow with purple. Violet ink crawled up slowly from the top like an ominous flood.
"...Count of three, we run. As fast as we can. Got it?" Phish ordered and adjusted his tie.
Portic hummed. "I'd agree, as long as we get the commander seal of approval."
All three males turned to Ophi. She gazed at them and shivered at first. Then her solemn stare switched into an irritated glare. "Yeah, go! You don't need my-"
"You heard her, let's go!" Portic shouted and took off.
"Wait, we were supposed to count-" Phish started, then groaned in exasperation. "Oh, forget it!"
The lean Inkling dashed off and dragged his Inkbrush across the grass. Quickly, Phish turned into a blue squid and dropped himself into the thin blue line he drew across the battlefield. As the two sped off, Rinse grunted at Ophi. She nodded back. Both of them stood up and took aim. Rinse fired at the bots with startling precision; Ophi shot at the droids as well, though she shot reluctantly. As her companion blasted several of them in the face and the eyes, she blasted the ground in front of them.
While they trudged forward towards the others, Portic and Phish ran around the outside of the Octarian machines' perimeter. While the majority steamed and rustled themselves towards the hill the three other Inklings (and very well concealed octopus) shot from, a few of the machines managed to notice the two as they ran around. Already a barrage of ink spouted forth from the troops in the back as they faced forward.
Portic ducked under one shot and swerved around the next. A chuckle escaped his mouth as he danced around the fire as if they were lawn sprinklers. Behind him, Phish was not having quite as much fun. Phish was swimming frantically through the fire, the violet ink cutting across the trail of blue that his squadmate laid behind. Luckily for them, they hardly budged from their formation to chase after them. They seemed much more hardpressed in their attempts to murder the two that shot at them from behind cover.
"There's the wall." Portic pointed out.
"We're not going just yet." His companion bit his lip and moved forward.
Across from them, the large sheet metal barricade stood and separated the rest of them. As they slowed down to a brisk jog, they turned and stared at the enemy armada. There were several, sizable trails that led from the wall. They drenched the grass and seemed to have left a lasting impression on the grass. The scars followed up small slopes the robotic Octotroopers (Robot-ctotroopers Portic decided he wanted to call them) took while gunfire sounded off in the background.
Portic whistled in astonishment. Had Rinse accompanied him, he was sure that he would be determined enough to tear down the wall with his bare hands.
But he was not with them. The others were still trying not to die from the onslaught of Octarian slaughter machines. Portic pivoted towards the other Inkling. "Alright, we're here. Now what?"
"We have to get closer to those bots." Phish spoke as he gripped his Octoshot and glared over the hills.
Portic coughed. "What?! We just got around them!"
The other Inkling sighed. "You'd rather charge at them from the front? We'd have to deactivate them from the back, break their wiring."
"Ah. How do you know this?" Portic asked with a smirk. Phish eyed him uncomfortably as he nudged the tie-wearing Inkling with his elbow. "You wouldn't happen to be a double-agent or something, would you?"
Phish's face went pale as a- Fish? At least Portic knew where he got his name from. "...No."
Much to his surprise, Portic just groaned. "Aw. I hoped that maybe you knew more than you let on, like you have all of these strategies or something."
"In all fairness," Phish began, "I did not expect that we would survive that. I mean, running across while a dozen of machines fire at us was just a stroke of luck."
"Or skill." Portic grinned, "We're gonna have to thank Rinse and Ophi when we get back."
Phish nodded in response. Then immediately, both tensed up and shot a glare over the hills. They had forgotten for a minute. The Inklings swerved around; Portic deployed his brush and Phish switched into squid form and they sprinted as fast as they could over the hills. Unbeknownst to them, a shadow peaked out from the top of the wall. The Octarian from earlier squinted as she retreated back, away from sight.
On the other end-
"Eek! Rinse, your eye!"
A glob of ink had wedged itself into Rinse's right eye. He snarled and fired back a few shots of vengeance, then dropped down. He reached at his eye, but the enemy ink steamed and stung before he could even attempt to clean it. Rinse laid back on the grass slope and gritted his teeth while Ophi stared at him in shock.
"Oh my Cod, oh my Cod!" She gasped and fanned at her face.
Rinse blinked with his good eye. As he watched her hyperventilate and continue to fan her face; despite the pain in his right eye and the ominous gear noises that sounded overhead, he could not help but smirk at her. Ophi noticed the smile from the corner of her eye and stood and stared flabbergasted.
She took to fanning Rinse's face instead. Some of the ink drifted off from his eye, but it was still damaged. Then, Ophi's ears twitched. She thought she heard something. The creaks of machinery were one thing, but the sound she was hearing...was that chuckling?
Rinse was chuckling. His iris was currently melting, but he was still laughing. The thought started to make Ophi tear up. All of a sudden, the rollercoaster of emotions shifted. Rinse's snorts stopped short once he noticed the rather worried stare he was given and the wetness in her eyes.
He sighed and glanced at the ground. "...Mind setting up a puddle?"
She perked up and wiped her eyes. "Uh, right!"
Ophi gripped her Bamboozler and aimed at the grass in front of Rinse's lap. She pulled at the wooden trigger below slowly. She sweated, any moment they would be overrun by a metal force. Regardless of the fact that the storm above was at its breaking point, Ophi began to spill blue ink from the nozzle of her Bamboozler. It stained the grass blue below.
With a grin, Rinse surprised Ophi. He patted her on the shoulder and said, "Thanks."
He promptly dunked his face. She watched in a horrid fascination as the ink bubbled as Rinse breathed. As he practically drowned himself, she braced herself as a shadow loomed over the hill. She saw the patchwork metal face of one of the enemy robots and bit her lip. It glared down at her and made its way over the knoll.
With a shaky hand, she aimed at the metallic face of the Octotrooper droid. A thin stream fired out and splashed across the enemy's face, but that hardly deterred the bot. It continued to ascend the hill, along with its brethren. They stared at Ophi with an ominous air as they crawled their way up; clanks, clunks, and whirs filled the air as they did. She backed away. Rinse retrieved his face from the puddle in the ground and blinked. His sight cleared back in his eyes and immediately adjusted to the first sight. The metal soldiers in front of him.
Rinse's eyes widened in shock. Before he could attempt to aim, the enemy troops revealed their weapons built in the front of their mobile platforms. The two Inklings bunched up next to each other and gawked as their robotic adversaries took aim.
Then, something snapped. The sound of sparks flying and crackling happened to begin permeating the air around them. The smoke and smog around the troops increased. Oil and fire, along with other mechanical stenches flooded their nostrils.
Had Rinse's eye not been shot and the pain not prevalent in his face, they would have become saucers. "Get down!"
Ophi wanted to ask why. Then she saw it. Over the hill, past the line of infantry, a pair of squids charged in.
One was on top of a robot.
The plan was simple. Get to the robots from behind, smack them a bunch with his brush, and take them out.
Funny enough, Portic found that it was significantly easier, not to mention much more fun.
He had ran across the fields of grass and panted occasionally during the brisk jog. Following behind him was Phish who continued swimming through the miniature river behind Portic. The trip felt much shorter as they approached the metal monsters, probably because they were not getting blasted up the bum by the enemy squadron.
When they saw the enemy from behind, the Inklings stopped and stared just a few meters away.
"...Wow." Portic whistled.
Several cords ran among the ground. On the back of the machines, panels were opened up and circuits exposed. Electrical sockets were slapped on the back of the machines and the wires ran in a constricted bunch among the several Octotroopers. A few of the Octotroopers dragged their lines out quite far, but despite their shuffles and attempts to move elsewhere remained tethered in a circle around the group.
"Ooh." Portic hummed as he stared. "Where do we start?"
Phish muttered something to himself. His companion spun towards him with a curious look plastered on his face. Phish jolted up and coughed. "Right, uh...anywhere. I think we can break them easily from the back."
"Will do!" He smiled and picked up the pace.
He slung his Inkbrush over his back and walked forward stealthily; he hardly cared that a stream of blue ink dripped down his back. Sneaking over towards one positioned at the very back while the battle continued raging on, he scratched his chin as he stared at the back of one of the machines.
Layers upon layers of circuitry and wires ran about the inside. He frowned and attempted to make heads or tails of the bizarre machinery. Not to mention he had to walk forward a step each time the Octotrooper decided to move, which was constantly.
After a few frustrating seconds, Portic huffed and raised his brush. "Oh, I get it!"
He speared the back of the machine with his Inkbrush. Much to Portic's surprise, the thin spear-like tip of the brush pierced the circuit board easily. The machine began to churn uneasily with the weapon now lodged in its back.
A satisfied smile crossed Portic's face. He turned around, "Hey, I think I-"
He felt a tug on his arm. Portic frowned in response. Phish stared back at him with an impatient curiosity. The Octotrooper smoked.
To put it accurately, the robot burst into flames.
From behind them, the Octotrooper's back exploded in a fiery blast. Portic yelped and attempted to retrieve his weapon. Phish jolted back in surprise, but once the shock wore off he cursed under his breath and unholstered the Octoshot by his side. When he aimed the gun at the back of the machine, as if it had eyes on the back of its metal head, it began to dash towards the other troops in an uncontrollable rampage. It happened to drag Portic along with it, much to his surprise.
"Oh geez!" Portic yelped as he hung on for dear life.
Phish watched as the machine began to drag him towards the fray while the grass clung to him and stained the poor Inkling's shirt. "Portic, let go!"
With a grunt as a rock passed him by and smacked into his ankle, Portic yelled out, "Not yet! I still haven't sated my quota yet!"
Phish scowled and yelled, "What quota?!" But before he could say, Portic was dragged off towards the group of metal warriors. "...Oh, great." Phish muttered then quickly followed after him.
Through the chaos of being dragged through the ground, Portic could make out slight images as they passed by. First and foremost, the grass. There was a lot of grass. He spat out a few blades as they brushed past his mouth while he was dragged through the ground. Secondly, the robots. At the moment, most of them seemed to have noticed something had gone awry.
Cords rushed past in a blur. A few of the lines attached to the bots were severed by Portic's bot's rush to extinguish itself. The owners of the cords eyes would dull out and shut off, and the robots would fall on their side with a puff of smoke and a sizzle sound. As the rampage went on, metal clangs and miniature explosions sounded off as Portic was carried along as a ragdoll. Eventually, both he and the bot reached a familiar hill; they still traversed the landscape at a speed devastating enough to the grass and the hunks of metal on platforms.
Portic gulped as he saw the bump in the road ahead through the several plumes of grass that brushed past his face. He covered his head with his helmet and his spare hand. Just then, the bot slammed into the slope and rebounded up into the air. A trail of displaced dirt and grass followed them straight up towards the knoll and stopped with a miniature crater as they were flung into the air.
The last thing Portic saw while he flew up into the sky were two Inklings underneath him.
Ophi backed away in surprise as Portic slammed headfirst into the ground below. As he jittered from the crash landing, something else joined him. Right before it did however, Rinse swiftly gripped Sumera by her legs. She sighed in her sleep before she was pulled out of the way as a fiery meteorite slammed into the earth next to her.
"Nngh!" Ophi coughed as smoke billowed out from the new crater.
Almost as soon as it had erupted from the crater, the smoke dissipated into thin air. Within the hole in the ground, the Octotrooper-bot laid dormant and very much broken. Its eyes were shattered and the top of its tentacle hung from its head like it was on a loose hinge. Ophi felt like she should ask, but after she took a glance at Portic, who laid on the ground with dazed eyes and a delirious laugh, she decided against it.
He did mutter something along the lines of, "Aaaand that's one for the quota!"
She had to refrain from smirking at him. Which was easy, because Rinse made it harder to smirk. He glared down at his friend, gripped him by his face, and shoved him into the blue puddle of ink below. Portic struggled and slapped the grass with the palm of his hand; he did it softly and patted the ground as if he wanted out.
While Ophi watched with a new horrid fascination, Rinse just glanced at her and explained, "Healing."
She just nodded solemnly. "...Right."
Just then, a screech sound pierced the air. Alert, Ophi jolted up in surprise while Rinse let up on his grip. As Portic gasped in air outside of the blue puddle with ink that dripped down from his helmet and tentacles, the other two hopped up with their weapons at the ready.
Instead of several guns pointed back at them, a pessimistic Inkling shot at them, "What a mess. I hope you were satisfied with your quota."
"Phish!" Ophi exclaimed a little more joyful than she had hoped.
Phish sighed and dusted off his tie and shirt. He stood in the midst of a warzone, or at least the aftermath of one. Several wrecked Octotrooper machines laid on the grass and sparked and smoked. A few spewed violet ink from the cracks in their skin. Ophi could not help but stare as Phish walked up the hill and slid down to their side.
"So, how's it going over here?" He asked curiously.
Rinse shrugged. At his side, the downed commander continued to sleep significantly more comfortably, what with Rinse's lap as her new pillow. Her long blue tentacles drooped off of the side. He remained silent and stoic despite his predicament. However, his gaze began shifting over towards Ophi. Phish followed his stare; the two stared at Ophi somewhat eagerly.
"...Uh, what?" She gulped and tugged at the collar of her white shirt underneath her brown vest.
Rinse cleared his throat. "Commander, our status?"
"Rinse!" She exclaimed with a blush while he just shrugged. "Er, we're fine. Good work Phish." She turned around and nodded towards the huffing Inkling by the puddle of blue. "You too Portic."
Much to her surprise not to mention embarrassment, Rinse laughed again. Phish just shrugged. "You're alive. That's fine."
Behind them, Portic finished hyperventilating and laughed alongside Rinse "Didya see that? We totalled them!"
Rinse nodded in response. Portic noticed the nod and shuffled uncomfortably in the grass next to him. Despite his discomfort, Rinse simply gripped Portic by the shoulders and pulled him close. The other Inkling eyed him nervously. Eventually he threw his caution to the wind and chuckled by him; the larger Inkling cracked a small smile.
Ophi sighed and stood up. "I guess that means we should get going."
"I guess so." Phish muttered as he fastened his tie.
With a wave of her hand, Ophi bent down towards the grass. She picked up the sleeping bags strewn about, a few of the bedrolls soaked in violet ink from the violent encounter. She shot a glance towards Phish's, then back to him. A moment of indecision crossed his face.
"Er, you don't need to bother with that, thanks." Phish said and walked over towards his own sleeping bag.
As he bowed to pick up the bedroll, Ophi smiled behind him with her stack of sleeping bags now reorganized in her hands. "Was that a 'thanks'? I...think I'm breaking new ground with you."
"Shut up." Phish murmured under his breath as he looked away.
Ophi huffed in response. "Maybe not."
An awkward silence emerged. Phish hefted his sleeping bag towards his face and looked in. He muttered to the inside as if he was having a serious conversation with his bedroll. Rinse hefted the rest of the supplies as well as Sumera over his shoulder and walked over the hill with no problems whatsoever, his Bamboozler gun firmly gripped in his right hand as if enemies remained just around the corner. Portic seemed to find a newfound glee in his Inkbrush and spun the thin stick around as though it were a baton. Ophi grunted and carried the sleeping bag tower in the middle of the group.
Together, the cephalopod teenagers walked across the remnants of the battle. After a while, ink ceased oozing from any cracked orifice and sparks stopped flying. While they walked, Rinse eyed the remains with distaste. He even went as far as to kick away at a few of the dislodged parts. No one protested.
Soon, they reached the wall erected in their path. The set of sheet metal doors were wide open. Though the expanse on the other side of it looked inviting, they began to stand still in front of the doors hesitantly.
As if their suspicions were confirmed, a few panels on the front opened. With a screech of metal, two rusted cannons emerged from the front above the doors and aimed at the group, though the guns pivoted shakily. Bits of metal and rust dropped from the panels and mounted weapons. Despite the wear and tear, their Splatoon held steady.
The group took a simultaneous fighting stance and reached for their weapons, but held steady. A loud, "Stop!" was heard. They glanced at the top of the wall.
Standing on top, an Octarian troop, a Octotrooper shivered as she stared down at them. She cried out, "Leave! Please. Just go."
Ophi opened her mouth to speak. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed that Rinse's triggerfinger quivered. She cleared her throat. "W-Why should we? You attacked first!"
"I was following orders," The Octotrooper called back at the edge of the wall, "Please, turn back! You're not safe here! Go back to Inkopolis!"
Portic scowled. "That seems highly suspicious."
Ophi felt like she should agree. She glanced at her other squadmates. Aside from the rest, Phish glared at the Octotrooper, though there was a stare in his eyes. That of reluctance. He caught Ophi's stare and glanced back quickly. Except instead of any snide remarks or impatient threats, he just stared back at her. Through a small opening in his lips, she could see his sharp Inkling teeth grit.
Ophi turned back towards the Octotrooper. "We beat your robots. We...we don't need to go any further."
The Octotrooper stared back. She bit her lip and glanced to and fro. "...I…I can't. Octavio...his army won't let us. Neither will the Seven."
"...'Seven'?" Ophi muttered among the group.
"...No, no!" The Octotrooper panted, "They'll splat me! I know it! I can't let you through!"
Before Ophi could attempt to say anything else, the Octotrooper began to run. Small stubby feet carried her extraordinarily fast. However, fast feet could not outmaneuver Rinse. With a marksman's aim, he pointed his Bamboozler at the Octotrooper and fired. She screamed as the ink blasted across her feet and tripped her.
As she slammed into the metal floor of the wall, he aimed again.
"No!" She screamed and flailed about.
"Rinse, no!"
His pupils shrank. Fury grew in his eyes as he turned, his Bamboozler still prepped to shoot. Ophi stood in front of him and panted, her eyes wide as saucers. The other Inklings stood at the side and stared with a similar expression. Rinse gritted his teeth and aimed back up at the wall. The Octotrooper was gone. The guns on the wall remained stagnant and continued to rust.
Rinse continued gritted his teeth and whirled around at Ophi. Portic seemed to shrivel somewhat and Ophi looked as though she were about to faint. His finger hovered above the trigger still.
Phish walked in front of Ophi, much to her surprise. He glared back at Rinse and though his own glare seemed to pale in comparison to the much stockier Inkling, he held his arms out in front of her as if he were a shield. "Calm down."
The words sat in the air for a while. Ophi noticed sweat as it dripped down from the back of Phish's neck. Portic's mouth gaped open in shock. The two male Inklings had somewhat of a standoff, though any moment Phish realized he could die.
Wind brushed past and their tentacles rustled along with it. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of torture, Rinse holstered his Bamboozler. "...Sorry."
He walked ahead through the open doors. In the palm of his open right hand, he raised a compass and stared down at it as he walked forward while the needle pointed to the large "W". Portic blinked as if he had just waken up. After a moment, he smiled and waved at the other Inklings as his friend carried Sumera through. "Welp, see you on the other side!"
With that, he left the other two in the dust on the other side of the barricade. For a moment, Phish stood still his his shield position. He promptly crumpled to the floor and heaved out a lengthy sigh. "Oh geez."
To top it off, he received something else he did not expect. Ophi crouched down and hugged him from the back. "Thank you."
She then stood up. He did as well, and the two stared at each other. Phish rubbed the back of his neck. "You're welcome. I'm never doing that again."
"...Does this mean I owe you now?" Ophi asked shyly.
Phish bit his lip. "Well, I saved your life once. Then you saved ours. I just did it again."
Ophi blinked in confusion. She pursed her lips and said, "Then…"
"...Do me one favor." Phish spoke up and glanced at her with a serious glare. "...Try not to die. I don't like having to call in favors like an errand boy."
"Sure. Wasn't planning on it." Ophi just smiled.
She walked through the door of the wall. Still in a standstill, Phish sighed and stared at the ground below.
"As long as you get everyone else to stop calling me 'commander'!" Ophi called out from in front of him.
He sighed and fastened his tie. "...Fine."
Phish followed the group as they began to trek forward towards the west. As he left the wall behind, a face stared back at the group as they walked off. An Octotrooper, a solemn, melancholy look on her face, sat down on the floor. She wept.
"...They're gone for good." She sniffled. "Octavio will get them. Someone will.. It doesn't matter..."
Small trickles of tears flowed down her face as the Splatoon walked hill over hill into the west.
AN: A bit of a delay in productivity, recently.
Thank you Recurring Guest, also known as Sir Recurring Guest of the Squid's Blue Table, I appreciate you took the time out of your life to post a simple review. Makes me glad to continue.
Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, see you.