Splatoon: The Drafted Squid
Welcome to the Wild, Wild West
Ophi rubbed the side of her arm slowly and uncomfortably. If there was ever a situation where she would be instructed to attribute the most fitting personality trait to herself, it would be awkward. Either that or just unnerved. Probably the most bizarre trait of the war thus far was not the threat of psychos, out of place walls, or Octoweapons. It was the ever ungraceful air that seemed to follow the squad.
A gloom shaded Ophi Coddlin's face as she groaned with but one, "Ugh."
As she shuffled forward through the cool air of afternoon, the large, thick steel obstacle faded into the distance behind them, she crossed her arms and stared down at the ground. She did not feel satisfied with herself. Sure, she managed to slow down the incoming rush of Octarian death machines and technically successfully prevented Rinse's eye from melting off his face and sinking off into the grass, but she still felt off, to put it simply.
Having Phish step in front of her and shield her from the blame was also...unsettling. She should be grateful for the gesture but something about it persisted to perturb her.
She glanced over at the male Inkling whose tie dangled in the breeze as he walked. In the distance, away from the rest of the group, he walked along and mumbled into his sleeping bag. Oph looked away in a flustered manner.
She liked him. In a weird friendly way. He was rude and hardly liked getting close to any of them. Yet he was not so bad. If not only due to the fact that he had saved her once.
...Rinse did not count, because there was no way he would actually hurt her, right?
Nevertheless it was mortifying thinking back on his act of selflessness. It felt bizarre and somewhat embarrassing to have been saved by a fellow squadmate like that. Ophi bit her lip and continued to walk forward behind Portic and Rinse.
Across from her, while Ophi pondered to herself about self-doubts, Phish talked to his sleeping bag. He bent his neck over in an odd angle as if he tried to conceal his conversation. To Ophi however it seemed as though he was extremely tired.
Regardless of what others though he spoke into the bag. "-and they all just toppled over as he barrelled through them. It was that easy."
"See?" A muffled voice emanated from the bag with a small rustle.
Up popped up an Octoling's head which yawned as refreshing zephyr swirled by. The exhale caused Phish to glance to the side with a brusque snit almost as if he did not want to catch whatever was in Mai's breath.
Mai giggled and leaned on the bag with one arm. "Told you it would be easy. If it wasn't for my brilliant plan you guys would have been stains on the grass."
"Yeah thanks." Phish muttered with a roll of his eyes. "Had it not been for your 'infallible' plan of running around the enemies. We just got lucky," Phish mumbled and shook his head, "All Portic had to do was stab one of them."
In the bag Mai snorted merrily. "Really?"
"You heard me." Phish took one cursory glance downwards into Mai's domain.
"That's rich." She shook her head with another laugh up at the sky. "And after all that talk? Nice craftsmanship Query."
Phish ears twitched. He froze in place as the group continued on and stared down into his bedroll. "What?"
The Octoling paused as her head poked out. "Hmm?"
"That name," Phish winded towards her with a glare and narrowed his eyes skeptically, "What was that you said."
"Nothing." Mai shrugged and retreated into the recesses of the sleeping bag.
"No, what was that you said?! Something about Query?" Phish asked and stuck his head into the bedroll curiously.
"Mmm...going to sleep. I'll talk to you about it in the morning." She excused herself and shrunk back into the bag and covered her with the folds of the bag. She even pointed an ink weapon at Phish as his face ventured in.
At the sight of a Bamboozler aimed at his face, he scowled and retreated back into the daylight. "Fine. Whatever."
When he retracted his face from the sleeping bag, Mai popped back out and grinned back at him. "Thank you for being so patient. We here at Octoling Incorporated-"
"Rrgh." Phish groaned as he walked along.
Meanwhile, Portic and Rinse walked forward side by side the farthest from the others; they moved with haste as they left their teammates behind. Portic fidgeted with his new Inkbrush as he walked and sneaked a careful glance at Rinse ever so often. As they walked on the terra firma, Rinse stared down at Sumera's compass in his right hand as he slugged their commander over his left.
She breathed much more peacefully now as if she had not just returned from a massacre. Her previous wounds seemed to have vanished. A few dried drops of blue ink and small scars remained on her skin. Other than that, she was smooth and appeared rather calm despite slung over Rinse's shoulder. Sumera hugged his shoulder tight and pushed her face in by his neck as her mobile bed walked westwards.
Portic chugged along at a safe enough distance: two feet away. He glanced over at Rinse and coughed. "So...still slugging her around, huh?"
"Mm." Rinse murmured back with a solemn nod as he walked.
"Ah." Portic responded and cleared his throat, "How's she doing?"
"She's alive." The stockier Inkling called back.
A gust of wind blew past. Despite the weather conditions, all Portic could feel was the chill of social anxiety. At least that was what he assumed the sick feeling in his gut was, it really could have been anything. Maybe the rations were not as safe as he initially thought.
Although his stomach began to make odd churn sounds he just sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "...Good, good. That's coolio, you know."
"...What's wrong?" Rinse questioned with an arched eyebrow.
The lean Inkling hopped up in surprise. "Uh, nothing buddy! Just uh...making sure." He flubbed and turned away yet again with a dainty whistle.
No matter how jolly the tune Portic blew through his lips, Rinse's stare did not leave him.
"...Would you believe a bad dream?" Coughed Portic beneath his breath.
"...What about?" Rinse answered back much to the other Inkling's surprise.
Portic hopped up in surprise. "Uh…" He bit his lip but continued his stride, albeit slower. "...Well, it started off when I was flying in the sky. Like a seagull."
He slung his Inkbrush over his shoulders. Raising his hands to his mouth he started making to caw and flap his elbows like wings. Rinse gawked at him with an expression devoid of any emotion besides an eyebrow cocked in confusion.
"I was flying," Portic reiterated with a flap, "Then suddenly, whoosh! I dive bomb straight into the ground below and die!"
"..." Came Rinse's response along with a skeptical blink.
Portic smile and gazed up at Rinse innocently regardless of his semi-suicidal statement. Much to Portic's befuddlement, his bizarre stare did the opposite of what he intended it to do and made the larger Inkling rub his arm in a strained manner. Rinse had on quite the poker face, but on the inside he grew more and more uncomfortable as Portic's stare continued to pierce straight through him almost as effectively as the Inkbrush he had.
"...I don't understand." Rinse spoke with a confused frown. "We can't get hurt by falling."
"...Well, yeah." Portic admitted with a scratch of his head. "But it's uh...It's the idea that's alarming, you know? Imagine me! Splattered across the ground!"
"I wouldn't let that happen." Rinse stated simply with a scowl.
"...Ah." Portic murmured and gazed at him stiffly.
Rinse smirked back at him. "You trust me?"
He furrowed his brow and stared up at him. Here he was standing in front of the guy who killed him. Portic felt a bead of sweat drip down his face as he glanced at his arms and expected a Bamboozler aimed with a toxic coating of ink to tear his limbs off with a single shot. Then he glanced at Rinse's face. He was hardly taller than him, the two of them were taller than both Phish and Ophi. Maybe even Sumera, but her state of unconsciousness made it difficult to see if she was in fact tall or not.
But regardless of physical or hypothetical height, it seemed like Rinse did not have the itch to scrap with him. Portic shuffled through the short plumes of grass and sighed contently. "...Yes."
"Then-" Rinse paused and checked over his shoulder. Sumera still laid over his shoulder and his Bamboozler still attached to his back. "Then let's go."
"Roger wilco." Portic managed to grin.
The two male Inklings advanced through the grassland slowly but surely. The sun above them sleepily glowed down and lightly baked the green hills and squids with comfortable rays of light.
Eventually, Phish and Ophi caught up with the two. As Phish attempted to fidget with his tie for no reason other than to appear semi-dignified Ophi behind him gasped for air with her spire of sleep sacks.
"...Alright!" She wheezed as she carried the cushy comforters. "Any sign of the front yet?"
Rinse narrowed his eyes and glared down at his compass. He traced the arrow as it pointed to a large red "W" and glanced westwards.
He turned around and shrugged. "No."
"Gah." Ophi collapsed on the grass, face first into the sleeping bags.
"I agree. Gah." Phish muttered and toppled onto the grass. He narrowly avoided making the mistake of laying his head down on his own knapsack. "Let me guess, keep heading west huh?"
"In a nutshell!" Portic explained as he stared down in amusement at the other two.
"...But where exactly?" Phish rose to his feet with a scowl. "We've been walking aimlessly, except for 'west'. How do we know it isn't for another hundred miles? How do we even know that-"
"Hey, look over there!" Portic pointed westwards.
Eagerly, Phish snapped towards Portic's finger. "Huh?!"
"More hills to climb over!" Portic snickered as he circled his finger towards the green lumps in the ground.
Phish just blinked. He glared straight up at Portic, stood up, and continued to glare at him. Portic shut up in an instant and gave a few cursory glances around the barren area of grass and dirt.
"...Hey, I think I hear something up ahead!" He suggested with a grin. "I think I'll uh… I'll go check!"
With a hop, a skip, and a very tense feel in the air Portic dashed over the hill with his Inkbrush still gripped behind his back, leaving both Phish and Ophi with their juggernaut squadmate who sat solemnly besides them. Rinse blinked in the direction where Portic had took off in and simply started to inspect his own weapon with another hard headed look down the bamboo barrel.
He lowered one shoulder slowly. Their previous commander slumped off of his shoulder and toppled onto the side of the hill. Her breathing continued to flow in a free, calm pattern. Sumera's chest rose and fell along the pattern.
"Wasn't today fantastic," Phish muttered and stared up at the clouds above them all, "Only thing we're missing now is another psycho."
"Phish…" Ophi frowned at him.
"What?" He asked with a frown of his own. Phish spun towards her. "Ophi, I'm tired. That's all."
The female Inkling let her shoulders droop. "Phish, all of us are. It's been a long day."
His tie wiggled in the wind as Phish turned backwards. The sheet metal barricade could still be spied in the distance and had appeared to have shrunk progressively. Though it was nothing more but a dark line now, not a single grain of accomplishment crossed his mind.
"We walked past robots and a wall." Rinse spoke plainly.
Phish wondered if he echoed thoughts. "Exactly."
"...So we should take it easy." He added while he jammed a thumb down the barrel of the bamboo stick. As he yanked back his thumb, a glob of blue ink stuck to the finger.
"...Well...not exactly…" Phish sputtered defensively. "...You know what, as long as we stay away from potential deathtraps, we'll be fine."
"Hey guys, check this out!" The squad jolted up at the vibrant call of Portic's voice.
Ophi snapped towards Phish with a less than interested expression. His face shared her sentiments. The two Inklings plucked their sleeping bags off of the crisp coat of green ground and took off. Indifferently remaining in place Rinse hardly batted an eye.
Over hill and knoll they ran. Though the wind caressed them from tentacle to leg as gentle as wind could physically caress, the felt somewhat ridiculous as they dashed over yonder. If anything the small beads of sweat dripping down their foreheads only sped up as the wind picked up.
After they bolted over five hills, they paused on top of the sixth afterwards and stood atop the miniature paramount of the sixth one, and the pair proceeded to pant tiredly in the afternoon sun. Ophi had taken it upon herself to utilize her tentacles and wrapped them around the sleeping bag pillar.
She glanced over at Phish. The other Inkling gawked at her and her bizarre tentacle, sleeping bag tower. Ophi could not refrain from a smirk. "...Jealous?"
"...Yes. I am jealous of the girl who could wrap her tentacles around a bunch of sleeping bags." Phish puffed in her direction.
Her tentacles constrained the bags tighter. "A simple 'no' would've worked."
"There you are!" At the tone the twosome of Inklings glanced across the hills. Portic stood at the foundation of their hill and waved up at them. "Pretty cool, huh?"
"...What?" Phish gasped for breath.
"Yeesh." Retorted Portic as he stumbled back from their profiles. "You guys are already worn out?"
His female companion puffed as she gripped the pillar of bedrolls. "I'm getting used to it."
"...You two need some exercise." Portic snickered as he leaned on his Inkbrush which dug into the grass. "But seriously, look!"
Phish and Ophi momentarily ceased their pathetic act of pants and stared ahead of them. They gasped, because cut in a wavy line through the hills was a creek, a river that rushed past the fields of grass like a outlandish blue scar. Grass paused at the edge of the river and gave way to soaked dirt. They watched the rapids swerve past the hills gently.
Despite their gentle nature the Inklings did not react as calmly. Phish gritted his teeth. "Oh great. Water."
"It's...pretty." Ophi commented at his side as she stared uneasily at the flow of water as it splashed across the miniature bank.
Portic shook his head with a sigh. "You guys need to learn to buck up. It's just water."
"...It's just water." Phish repeated as he stared down at the rapids. Even from a distance, as a small volume splashed up the bank, he cringed as it wetted the nearby grass. "It's just liquid death. It's just acid. It's just-"
"It's just water!" Came an irritated Portic response as well a huff from the lanky Inkling. "Seriously, we can jump over it. Watch."
Before the others could protest, Portic ambled off as they watched with reluctance clear on their face and mirrored in their tentacles what with several shakes. Individually the Inklings glanced at him worriedly as he took off for the river. As he approached the embankment he turned around, smiled, and waved his hand over the water.
"See?" He spoke positively with the daintiest smile plastered to his face. "Nothing to it!"
The smirk only lasted for about five seconds when the feeling of cold liquid doused his hand. Though, with a more professional glance, it took him about two seconds to feel and the other three to react.
"Gyaaah!" Screamed Portic as he stumbled back onto the flat, dry bank of the river.
He nursed his hand in his lap as the river continued to flow by without a hint of guilt, as estuaries care not for Inkling safety. His two Inkling colleagues tread forwards almost equally as shocked.
Their concern melted into perplexity when Portic pointed the very same hand spanked by the rush of the river and yelled, "Fish!"
Stupefied, Phish shook his head promptly and shouted, "What?"
Portic whirled about with a wooden expression. "No, not you."
"...What?" He inquired as he slid down the hill. The grass parted as his Slip-Ons were besmirched with green, much to his misfortune.
Throughout his descent his body switched into the form of a small blue squid and bounced and bounded off through the short pastures. The taller Inkling leaned down by the water and stared down into the drink.
Phish popped up besides him, reverted back into his Inkling form, and glared at Portic. "Portic, what is it?"
Portic signaled towards the tributary with a broad smirk. "Check it out!"
Phish eyed the river peculiarly as it splashed along the rim of the line. Ripples and curls of crystal clear blue tore past the grass with a simultaneous harmony and chaos. Within the ripples, Phish could make out an outline, an outline splashing and bathing within the drink.
"...Pff!" A snicker reverberated past the duo's ears.
Portic spun to his left. Sitting upon her knees, her tower of sleeping bags piled beside her, her face disclosed her impending expulsion of a laugh as she noticed the aquatic animals swivel through the water.
"So when you meant fish-" She grinned widely as her necklace bobbed up as if it shared her sentiments. "You literally meant it."
Portic shrugged in amusement. "Of course. What else would I mean?"
"Alright, I get it, my name sounds like fish." He growled irritably. "Very funny. Is that all you wanted to show us?"
"Yes!" Portic nodded gleefully as he sat by the riverbed.
"Wonderful. Nature." Phish shook his head and glanced around. "Are we going to jump across or-"
"Wait, whoa, hold on!" Portic waved his hands up at him. "We're not skipping out on lunch are we?"
Phish shook his head and eyed the stream from left to right impatiently. "Of course not. We'll eat the rations-"
"Rations?" Portic asked with an eyebrow cocked. "Who said anything rations?"
Phish and Ophi glanced at him suspiciously. "Huh?"
He pointed to the river as a fish swam past them and wriggled through the water. A few droplets splashed out onto the grass. Portic turned back to them with a sheepish grin.
"...Why?" Phish asked curiously with his bedroll still bunched up in his arms.
"...It's...fresher?" Portic shrugged to himself.
Ophi stared down at the water curiously. "How are we going to fish them out?"
Phish suddenly turned to Ophi by the riverbed. "You too? Ophi," He gestured over the water, "C'mon. We have to keep moving."
"Didn't you just complain about being tired?" Ophi puffed her cheeks out in a sort of childish manner.
"Yes but-" Phish trailed off into a mutter.
"C'mon Phish!" Portic nudged him with his elbow. "If the commander says we should have lunch then-"
Phish scowled at him with just about as much friendliness as a shark's smile. Despite his iron-hard glare, Portic continued to smile back at him with a beam that could rival the sun's. Their miniature expression stand-off lasted for about a maximum of four minutes.
"...Ophi?" Portic turned to his squadmate hopefully.
Ophi blinked in surprise. "Um…" She was met with the two very same expressions previously locked in stares.
Portic practically begged her with his eyes. Phish's stone hard glare did not convince her.
"Well…" She crossed her arms and locked them together decisively. "I...guess a snack couldn't hurt."
"Yeah!" Portic pumped one fist in the air righteously. "That's our commander for you!"
"...Fine." Phish shook his head in disbelief. "One fish. Then we get going."
"Nice!" Portic grinned widely. "...Any idea how we get them?"
Phish glanced at the raging rapids. A single fish hopped out of the water for a second and dropped back in immediately. "Cod clam it."
"Oh hang on!" Portic raised one finger.
With everyone's eyes on him he reached behind him and grabbed his Bamboozler and aimed down at the stream. His left eye shut, he trained his open eye on the ripples in the water, and with an expert's touch, unloaded shot after shot into the water.
"Take this!" He yelled as a blot of ink blasted out of the barrel. "And this and this!"
The shots of blue bounced towards the river. One after another the bullets of blue spiralled in an arc downwards towards the clear rapids below. Each and every single one sequentially smacked into the water and washed away in the stream. Phish and Ophi stood behind silently as Portic ogled the estuary mute and hollow.
"...I tried." Portic twisted his head around foolishly.
"...Yeah. You sure did." Phish muttered and took a step forward. "So what, do we jump over the river?"
"Hey hey hey!" Portic shook his head. "We're not giving up yet! So obviously shooting them won't work. Maybe we can bait them out."
"How?" Phish asked with a roll of his eyes. "Are you going to stab them with your stick next?"
Portic hesitated with his hand as he dangled the barrel of his Bamboozler over the river. He retrieved the bamboo and stowed it away behind his back. "Of course not!"
"Well then OHH NOO," Phish draped his right hand over his forehead and laid one foot in a kneeling stance. "The fish are unreachable! Ohhh noooo what ever will we- C'mon guys."
"...Well there was no reason you should've been such a flounder about it." Portic shook his head.
"First of all, that's either racist… or specist, and I'm not entirely sure how to classify that." Phish mumbled much to Portic's dissent. "Secondly, reminder, we're in the middle of a war! You wanna stop and eat, that's fine, but maybe somewhere a little farther from the giant enemy erected barricade back there!" Phish shouted as he gestured his hand behind them.
He felt his hand smack into something. For a brief moment, Phish closed his eyes, sighed, and turned around. Standing over him was Rinse with the ever sleeping beauty that was Sumera still slung about his shoulder as if she were a bag. Lo and behold Phish's offending appendage lay smack dab with the fist back towards the much stockier Inkling's chest. The others instantly cringed and backed away towards the river.
As Rinse's hardened expression lowered itself to eye level with Phish's, Phish opened his brown eyes and gazed back at the grey ones in front of him, and said, "...Sorry."
Rinse took it upon himself to raise one hand and pat him once on the head. "It's fine."
Phish sighed in relief.
"Stupid." Rinse hummed with a plain smirk.
"Pfff." Portic and Ophi's faces scrunched up with glee as they stood byt he bank.
"...Great." Phish muttered underneath the hand that continued to smother him as if he were a pet. After a moment longer of being subject to affection Phish reached up and slapped the hand with an, "Alright that's enough!"
"Heh." Rinse's small grin faded as the others continued to guffaw. "In all seriousness...what seems to be the problem here?"
Phish huffed, crossed his arms, and whirled towards the water. "As you can see-"
"Phish won't let us fish!" Portic called out with an impish call.
"Oh my Cod shut up." Phish groaned to himself.
"...Phish won't let you...Phish?" Rinse arched an eyebrow down at the other Inkling.
Flustered, Phish straightened out his tie twice, and stormed off towards the riverbank. "I've had it with this joke. You guys go ahead and try to go catch something."
"Hmm." Rinse murmured as he set down the Inkling sprawled across his shoulder down onto the ground. "Let me take a look."
"Yeah Rinse!" Portic cheered from the sidelines as his stockier pal approached the water.
"Am I the only one on this team that doesn't want to die? Sheesh." Phish thought as he gazed wistfully at the horizon.
His gaze eventually returned to the riverbed where he noticed the others crowd about Rinse. He kneeled down to the river and narrowed his eyes down at the water. His eyes took note of the ripples rampantly washing about. With a steady breath he rolled up his sleeves and wriggled his fingers. Phish's eyes blew up in size.
"No way." He thought to himself and let his arms drop down at his sides. "He's not actually going to reach in is he-"
His theory was dispelled in an instant as Rinse stabbed a metallic tentacle into the river very ungracefully.
"Of course he isn't." Phish frowned and slowly slogged back towards the river. "No. Out of all the things that have happened..."
As if he carried a spear Rinse gave an experimental twirl with the newly impaled fish stuck on the tip of the metal tentacle.
"That was great!" Portic cheered as he snatched the fish off. "Now let's eat!"
"Where'd you get that from anyways?" Ophi asked with a mixture of awe and bewilderment.
"A souvenir." Rinse commented with a nod back towards the east while Portic retrieved his next meal as he licked his lips. "From the octopus."
"Have you been carrying that since that thing exploded?" Ophi asked with an eyebrow arched.
All Rinse did in response was nod. As Ophi attempted to examine him with a very suspicious eye Phish walked over to Portic who frolicked about the bank.
"Alright Phish." Portic hummed as he gestured towards him with the fish in his hands. "Despite your skeptics I'm willing to make a peace offering!
Phish glowered down at the fish in his hands. "It has a hole in it."
"...Okay now you're just being picky." Portic huffed and pushed the fish into his hands. "C'mon Phish. We're all part of a squad y'know."
"...I was just commenting on the hole but…" Phish reluctantly let Portic drop the fish in the palms of his hands. "...Thanks."
"Alright!" Portic pat him on the shoulder and waltzed off towards the grass. "I'll go ahead and start a fire!"
An alarm sounded off in Phish's head. "Sure. Uh...that sounds...good."
He continued off on his merry way to potentially torch the grasslands. Portic stopped by the bank in next to where Rinse continued to assault the fish with his stolen proboscis. All the while Ophi walked over with a smile on her face as her wooden necklace jingled about her neck.
"Nice catch there." She teased him with a nudge to his arm. "Think we should call you a Phish-erman?"
"You people are hopeless." Phish shook his head in embarrassment. "If I don't get splatted by the enemy I hope I don't die with you guys laughing over my grave."
Ophi hummed placatively. "Phish, calm down. They're just having fun." Suddenly a smile poked back onto her face. "Or are you just allergic to that?"
"That's a possibility." Mai whispered from the inside of his sleeping bag.
"..." Phish frowned down at the bag.
"Alrighty! We're done!" Called Portic.
Phish and Ophi turned back towards the estuary. Rinse hefted a large staff with several fish strung about side to side in a rack on the metal tentacle. Each salmon laid impaled and lifeless on the rack yet swung with the breeze.
"This should be enough." Rinse announced firmly.
" I'd argue that isn't enough." Portic blinked back at him.
"Unless you want salmon to go extinct I'd say that's enough." Phish frowned at the fish corpses. "...At least the ones that can't talk."
"Yeah…" Ophi frowned all of a sudden. "It is kinda weird how there are fish you can eat and different ones you can talk to."
"I'm not complaining." Portic grinned as he plucked a few blades of grass and stacked them on top of one another.
Rinse raised the bar of fish with one hand and reached into his pockets. He retrieved a small box with a match emblazoned in the front cover and tossed it to Portic as well as a single fish now with a hole in the middle.
He struck a match, sheltered the red tip from the wind, and got to work. "I can't wait!"
The familiar aroma of fish and smoke blended together in an amateurish yet enticing aroma. Ophi and Phish took in a deep breath and let in the air.
"Look at that." Ophi sighed contentedly. "You feeling better Phish?"
"Barely." He scowled and glanced over the horizon. "...It smells nice though."
She smiled and gazed over at the grass and the sand in the riverbed. "See? Loosen up a bit more."
The both of the gazed westward as the sun hung over the squadron. Portic had switched to spitroasting the fish over the fire, carefully rotating the food over the flames, slowly cooking them. Rinse sat down by the still unconscious Sumera who, in her daze, still sniffed the air graciously as the smoke drifted over her head. The other two sat by the river watching the surviving fish flip out of the stream every now and then.
"...This isn't so bad." Phish finally admitted as he placed his sleeping bag in front of the river.
"See?" Ophi sighed in response. "Are you finally coming around?"
"Well," Phish adjusted himself, "It would be better if the threat of death wasn't hanging around us."
"Mmm." She frowned next to him.
During their small chat alongside the sand and water Portic licked his chops at the sight of several savory singed stacks of salmon stuck in a small row. "Mm!"
"That looks reallly good." Portic heard someone croon. "Heated to perfection! I like the char lines."
"I know right?" Portic spoke without a glance behind him. "I'd like to think I'm a real connoisseur."
"Ooh." The feminine voice hummed. "Could I have a bite by any chance?"
"Sure!" Portic spoke up and turned the stick to the side.
He felt a tug on the stick and the feeling of the metallic tentacle getting lighter. As light as metal could get anyways. When he brought it back over the small cluster of burning grass and twigs he frowned. Two salmon on the end of the stick were absent from their roast.
"Yeesh Ophi." Portic commented as he kicked back. "If this was the case we would've caught a few more."
"Hmm?" Portic heard another voice come from behind him. "What'd you say Portic?"
Suspicion crept up into Portic's chest. Slowly but surely he pivoted back towards the river. Phish and Ophi gawked back from the waterway queerly with Ophi's helmet by her side. A perturbed expression realized itself on his face. He casually twisted his head to the side.
Another Inkling, her helmet covered in fuchsia, her orange tentacles straggled about wildly and chipped in, chewed on the remainder of her fish. Her orange eyes gazed tiredly up at Portic as he stared back shocked as did the rest of his squadron.
She finished with a gulp. "Many gratitudes friend!"
With that she planted her face into the grass by the fire. Her body went limp in an instant. Everyone looked on in horror.
Portic glanced down at the fish and gulped. "Maybe we should've cleaned them first."
"Huh! Look at that!" Another voice chimed in.
The others glanced up from the corpse lying by the fire up towards the grass. A platoon of seven Octotroopers stationed just besides the campfire aimed their platforms' cannons directly down at Portic who glanced from side to side in frantic bewilderment.
One of the Octotroopers laughed and shook his head. "Guess she wasn't lying! Reinforcements WERE just over the hill! Guess you owe me thirty coins bud!"
"Oh darn." One of the Octotroopers in the back complained. "Thanks a lot!"
The corpse hardly seemed as though it would reply.
The Octotrooper laughed yet again. "Eh! Doesn't matter! We get these guy's helmets and the commander won't splat us! We're home free gang!"
As the squadron of Octotroopers guffawed in a circle around Portic with their weapons at the ready the others stared in terror. Phish gulped once and reached at his side.
"Dude." Mai whispered from within his sleeping bag. "Are you nuts?"
Phish glanced down at the entrance of the sleeping bag. Two violet eyes glared back at him. His hand hovered over Mai's Octoshot reluctantly. The eyes continued to gaze at him. Phish looked back up to the side, over to Ophi, who had one hand on her cheek and another underneath the tower of sleeping bags. A bamboo shoot stuck out from underneath.
"...Probably?" Phish offered as he rose to his feet.
The eyes folded upwards in cheer. "Maybe you aren't allergic to fun."
Phish stood up and dashed forward as his tie flapped in the wind.
AN: Apologies for yet another delay. Life hasn't been the greatest of All Time if you catch my cold.
I am happy, however, that the reception of this story so far has been mostly positive. Especially as its own identity from the other stories of mine. Thanks to all the other writers out there who thought my story was nice enough to read.
Speaking of reception I'd like to thank the reviewers. Thanks Guest for reviewing. Apologies that the transition was a bit rough but thanks for offering your criticism regardless.
Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, see you.