Chapter 2

"Well lookie here, if it isn't the Carptastic Quartet themselves!"

Dallas winced. Geneva growled. Rome sighed. Adelaide felt the urge to bite someone's prized deck of tableturf cards. It was those guys again.

Three Inklings and an Octoling, all boys with matching slicked-back, silvery hair, and identical Toni Kensa outfits, watched them from their perches on a guardrail, with the nasty eyes, mean-spirited smiles, and boisterous body language of a rich gang of friends who knew they were rich, had the skills afforded by being rich, and loved rubbing it in people's faces.

Adelaide coud never remember their individual names -on the account of them making her mad every time they showed up-, but she knew their four names were Clash, Flash, Slash and Jet, and never knew why the fourth one had a different name from all the others, or why they enjoyed picking on other teams so much. She just knew they annoyed her.

"That's not our name!" Adelaide protested, stomping her foot.

"We technically don't even have a name registered yet." Dallas meekly pointed out.

"Yeah! But it'll be fresher than what you said!" Adelaide claimed. "You guys are just rude!"

The four punks just laughed and struck some obnoxiously smug poses. The first Inkling, with striking red eyes like her, raised his hands in a mock apology

"Oh, soh-ree, Ay-duh-leed." One of them said, intentionally mispronouncing her name to sound as dumb as possible. "I guess your name must've missed me, like all of your shots."

He made a gun shape with his fingers and started pointing it in jerking and erratic natures, mocking her lack of accuracy to the laughter of his friends. Adelaide became increasingly tempted to find out if biting his hand would wipe that ugly smile off his face. It was annoying to her, and as Geneva stepped forward, she could tell it made her friend even more angry.

"Why don't I punch your face in until your aim is worse than hers, punk?" She threated, raising a fist with a murderous look in her eyes.

"Oh golly gosh, Geneva." The second one said with pretend fear. "Please don't hit me, save that for the battlefield where you can get yourself disqualified from tournaments again!"

Geneva gnashed her teeth and backed down, lowering her fist. A touchy subject, that incident had been. Dallas put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.

"Don't let them win, Geneva." He said.

"Pff, 'don't let them win'." The third one scoffed. "You know all about not winning, Dally boy. Gonna wimp out and fall off the arena again?"

Adelaide could see her friend was trying desperately hard to put on a brave face. But his hands were starting to shake, like they always did when he was anxious.

"You wouldn't stand a chance of winning even with one of your dad's illegal weapons. May as well do everyone the favour and get yourself banned for life now." The first one mocked.

Dallas winced, looking like he'd been slapped in the face. Adelaide hated seeing him emotionally hurt like that, with those misty eyes and quivering lips of his. Everyone picked on him for being so emotional and because of family history way outside of his control. It made her upset, and her clenched fists started shaking. The laughter and insulting jokes weren't helping.

Her mind went blank for a moment, but the next thing she remembered was that she had one of the bullies hands in her mouth, and her own hand had his wrist in a vice grip.

"Ow!" He shrieked, he and Adelaide needing to be pried apart by their respective mates.

"Dallas isn't a cheat, you #\$ %\* jerk!" Adelaide shouted, trying to squirm her way out of the restraint Rome and Geneva were holding her in.

"I'm the jerk?! You deserve to be put on a leash, you feral smallfry!" The bitten punk snapped back, nursing his bitten hand. Adelaide was still seeing red, but she was satisfied that she had wounded his pride and got him to back off from bullying Dallas.

"Adelaide." Rome instructed in an impossibly calm and level voice. "Deep breaths."

She didn't like it, but she knew Rome's judgement was always right and did as he asked.

Inhale. Exhale. Her vision was less clouded with fury.

Inhale. Exhale. Biting people was bad, even if they deserved it.

Inhale. Exhale. Save it for the arena. Rich brats will get what's coming to them.

The last of the mean-spirited quartet, the Octoling, stepped forward with a clear intent to tell Adelaide off, at least until Rome stubbornly blocked his path.

"Out of the way, tall guy." He spat. "You can't keep protecting that little brat."

But Rome didn't budge. He didn't even emote. That serious, stoic look of his didn't waver in the slightest.

"Pick your fights more wisely." He replied, his voice, stance and folded arms as authoritative as a military leader.

The other Octoling sneered, but he nevertheless backed off, going back to stand with his crew.

"I don't know why you bother hanging out with those misfits, Rome." He grumbled. "You could join up with a more competent team and actually be cool."

Rome didn't budge. The rival Octoling tsked and dismissively waved a hand.

"Loser." He said, he and his team turning heel and walking away, but not before he could offer one last parting insult. "You could be cool, but you're just like all the other foreign Octolings."

And then they were gone, but their insults still stung. Adelaide sighed and slumped her shoulders, wondering why others would get a kick out of being so mean to her and her friends. She knew she wasn't a natural shot or a good strategist, but she had always just wanted to play for fun and hang out with her friends.

A reassuring hand landed on her back, and she gratefully glanced up to its wielder.

"Sorry, Rome." She apologized. "Couldn't control myself."

She thought he had every right to be angry or disappointed at her for her lack of self-control, but she could never read his emotions, and even now those golden eyes and pursed lips weren't giving anything away.

She sighed and looked around for her other two friends, but they had disappeared. She scanned the area around her, then felt a buzzing in her pocket that would explain where they went. Fumbling in her shorts' pocket, she produced her phone to find a number of unread messages. The most recent one was from Geneva.

'G2g for my SR shift. Gonna imagine the Flyfish are those carpy rich kids and give 'eem hell.'

Adelaide blinked, only then remembering Geneva had to work the occasional shift with Grizzco.

'Stay safe.' She quickly typed out in response. 'Know you don't like Salmon Runs.'

Geneva responded pretty quickly, a good sign that she was alright even if she was still steamed.

'Rent's gotta be paid.'

Adelaide sighed again, this time relieved. That was a classic Geneva explanation, she'd be fine. But Dallas was still missing, and there were no messages from him.

"Do you think he's still upset?" She asked, knowing it was likely but hoping Rome would tell her otherwise, but her fellow Octoling was already gone, though he'd left a physical message for her in the shape of a paper note on the ground and the lack of bags for her to carry.

'Took bags to Dallas' place.' It read in his simple, clean and succint penmanship. 'Will be home, making dinner.'

She picked up the note and folded it up with another sigh. Figures the guy who spent a ton of time on his phone would leave the moment someone else pulled out theirs.

She kicked at a loose pebble on the ground. It had all been going so well just a couple of minutes ago. Now she was alone, and the team was scattered in four different places, and all the mean comments and laughing at her and her friends' expense still rung in her ears.

Maybe the bullies were right. Maybe they didn't stand a chance. The last time they'd tried to qualify, they fell out at the first round in a 100-0 knockout. Why would this time be any different if they couldn't even stay together?

She shook her head. 'No, bad Adelaide.' She scolded herself, imagining a tiny Octopus squirting her with a spraying bottle. 'Don't listen to bullies, you'll do great.'

"Yeah." She nodded, continuing to pep talk herself. "Yeah, we'll be fine. I won't let my friends down."

That idea rejuvenated her resolve. She'd been practicing her skills, now it was time to rely on an old skill of hers.

She looked up to the big neon bowling ball sign she'd noticed earlier, knowing where she'd likely find one of her friends, the one who'd benefit from her skill the most.

It was time to be the moral support.

Sure enough, he was there, back at his favourite lane.

Adelaide always liked coming up to the bowling alley, with its small, comfy setting, from the bright lights along the 10 alleys to the funny little graphics that played on the little scoring screens above the lanes after every roll. It even had a friendly snack bar in the back and all those colourful bowling shoes behind the front desk, which were super comfy to wear when she paid to get onto the smooth alley flooring.

She paid the fare for a game, picking lane 3, and slipped on a green pair of rental shoes. Sure enough, Dallas was right alongside in Lane 2, but even though his game was in progress, he sat in a chair, staring forlornly at the three holes of a bowling ball sitting in the dispenser.

Adelaide tried her best to not immediately go over to him and played a few frames normally. The first one saw both rolls land in the gutter, the second one got 3 pins in total, and the third got her a 7-10 split that she followed up with another gutter roll. There was definitely some rust to shake off.

Eventually, her being there playing seemed to motivate Dallas to get up and pick up a ball, like her middling plays usually did. With one hand's fingers in the holes and the other hand steadying the ball, he took a few steps forward, paused, took a deep breath, then took a few more steps.

As he did, he let go with one hand, pulling his arm back, ball going with it. As he took his last step, he bent his knees and deftly swung his arm forward, pitching the hard, heavy ball into an elegant roll, where it rumbled towards the ten awaiting pins before causing them all to tumble in a clean, orderly fashion.

A perfect strike.

"Well done." Adelaide said, watching the little animation of a bowling ball dropping a barrage of Splat bombs onto some unsuspecting pins, the screen proudly proclaiming "STRIKE!" in big, blocky letters.

Dallas faintly smiled, but it wavered pretty quickly.

"If only I was anywhere near as good at battles as I was at bowling." He rued, watching his favourite ball tumble back out of the dispenser.

Adelaide picked up her ball and gave it another go, trying to copy Dallas' spin technique. It resulted in her ball landing on the alley with a painfully loud thunk before it veered into the gutter and slowly trundled to the end.

"Well hey, you've been bowling since you were a kid, right?" She asked. "And you work here, so you have plenty of time to practice."

Dallas conceded with a nod. "Yeah, but-"

"Your dad never did any bowling either, right?"

Dallas hesitated. Family was always touchy with him, given his father's shameful reputation and the effect it had on him and his family, including his son. He shook his head, confirming what Adelaide knew.

"Your dad made a huge mistake. We all know that." Adelaide continued, picking up her ball for another attempt, which netted her another gutter for her troubles. "But you're not him. And you don't deserve to be seen as such."

Dallas sighed. Everyone seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"Yeah, tell the rest of society that." He said bitterly.

"I would if I could. But I'm starting with you, Dallas." Adelaide replied. "You're the smartest and most honest person I know, except when you beat yourself up over things other people assume about you."

Dallas seemed to be thinking of something he could say to deny her claims, but she interjected before he could.

"You've read every single weapons manual back-to-back countless times. You know how to put a legal weapon together in your sleep. You fixed the neighbourhood power grid with a lot of wits and a little bit of wire. Twice!"

"Weren't both of those incidents your fault?"

"That's besides the point! Those wires looked like fried fish sticks!" Adelaide pouted, which finally seemed to cheer Dallas up, because he had a little chuckle about the memories. He'd definitely saved her butt a few times in the past, and that past went back to the time before either could control their ink.

"Alright, alright." He finally conceded. "You've got a point. Just...promise you won't get mad if I'm the reason we wipe again?"

Adelaide just stuck his tongue out at him. "You'll have to best me at that first, Mister B+."

The two of them had a good laugh, then nodded and pitched their next rolls down their adjacent alleys. Dallas landed another perfect strike, and Adelaide did the same, albeit in slower roll.

It was a perfect visual for what they could do if they worked together. Without looking at each other, they bumped fists.

It was getting late by the time Adelaide returned home.

The trains she had to take to get there were crowded even well after rush hour. She found herself standing amongst a school of jellyfish in the first, and nearly getting pancaked between two giant lobsters in the second.

Once she hopped off at Eeltail Alley Station, she took the same route as ever: Crossing the street at the intersection with the cellphone shop, walking along one of the sidewalks until the street stopped serving vehicles and instead became a pedestrian zone, and finally sliding down a staircase's central guardrail that dropped her onto another street, this one lined with a towering trio of blocky apartments that stood atop an array of convenience stores, hole-in-the-wall food joints, and a small post office.

Slipping between the post office and a shop that served delicious-smelling deep dried tempura, Adelaide passed through the open door that led to the apartment's elevator lobby, and rode the old, laborious elevator up to the 12th floor, the slow trip set to the muffled tune of a Deep Cut song she could never remember the name to.

The doors opened with a chime as she exited onto the 12th floor's hallway, and then followed the wafting smell of roasting seaweed until it let to her home: Unit 1213.
Letting herself in, she shook her shoes off and closed the door behind her. The smell of dinner was even stronger, and it looked just about done, as Rome was already cleaning up dishes.

"Dinner's ready." He confirmed, pointing to the table. Situated right by the balcony, the table was already neat and orderly, the utensils and plates perfectly aligned, the latter already stacked with a mix of seaweed and grilled dori fish, a comfy meal for the evening.

It was a nice setting, and Adelaide had nothing to do with. It was her roommate that kept everything in order, from the tidy kitchen and dining space to the living and sleeping rooms. He was a cleaning machine, whereas her version of 'clean' was stuffing clothes into her drawers instead of having them scattered all over the place.

"Thanks Rome." She said gratefully, but didn't feel right about going straight to dinner after what went down earlier.

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

Rome shook his head, which made Adelaide feel better instantly.

"They were asking for it." He replied. "But...do be careful."

"Right, biting other people is bad."

Surprisingly enough, he shook his head again.

"Don't want you catching their rudeness."

She giggled. The rare Rome joke always cheered her up. And it made her feel special, since she was the only person who ever got to hear them. He was an enigma, that one.

"I think I'd like to bite into your cooking instead." She replied. "Much tastier fare, right?"

Her roommate nodded, setting the last dishes on the rack before going with her to the table. Adelaide was tempted to start eating before she even sat down, but she bid her time, and bit her tongue. Manners were the least her friend deserved for his works. And it gave her time to catch the can of ginger ale he'd just lobbed her way.

"You even got my favourite drink? It's like you know me well, like we've been roomies for six months or something."

"You once put it in the tacticooler."

"Okay, but that was funny!" That had been a very funny game of turf war, which Rome might have a fond memory of, but perhaps not the other two that had been on their team back then.

'Their loss.' Adelaide thought, making a note to do that again in the future. Some surprises weren't just meant for her opponents. Besides, more people needed to appreciate the superior carbonated beverage.

Rome at least did. He popped open his can, which made that signature hiss, and he promptly raised it, signifying the start of the meal. While he may have taken his time to cut and chew his food, Adelaide simply scarfed down her own servings with gusto, amazingly without making a mess in the progress.

She loved deep fried foods, but something about Rome's more traditional cooking was so hearty and satisfying, from the texture down to the seasoning. Crunchy seaweed, juicy fish, and a sweet ale to wash it all down. Really, she couldn't ask for more.

"This is really good." She said through a partial mouthful of food. "You said it's your own recipe?"

"I don't cook otherwise." He replied, taking his time with his own meal.

"Wow." Adelaide stated at her nearly empty plate and thought she should have been eating slower, though her innards weren't complaining so it was probably fine. She instead wondered what it was like to be as talented a cook, since her own experience in the kitchen had resulted in disasters before.

"You always seem to show up with some handy skill unannounced, Rome." She sponged up the last crumbs of seaweed with her finger. "Is your hometown full of talents too?"

No response. Everyone knew he was an out of towner, what Splatlandian Octolings called 'East Octarians', though Adelaide never understood or was ever told why that was a bad thing. He'd just quietly shown up six months ago during a round of Tower Control at Undertow Spillway, and he seemed like someone who needed a friend, so she offered herself as such.

Well, it was more like she had self-appointed herself as his friend. He hadn't talked much since, and certainly not about life before Splatsville, but whenever Adelaide worried she might be annoying him, he'd pat her back to assure her she wasn't. Perhaps he liked someone who could do most of the talking for him. She still didn't quite know what he saw in her, but she saw a good friend in him.

"Rome, if it's something that bothers you, you can trust me." She promised. "Or I could stop asking. Just let me know."

Her fellow Octoling picked up his plate, his meal still unfinished, and stepped towards the fridge.

"Some other time, Adelaide." He answered, much like he always did when this topic came up.

Adelaide stared down at her own plate, dissatisfied with being left unanswered yet again. Then she shrugged and licked the plate clean. It might not happen anytime soon, but some day she'd figure him out.

A few hours later, she was struggling to keep her eyes open.

When she couldn't get practical practice, Dallas recommended she brush up on her theory and technical knowledge, expand on what little she knew. The only problem with that was that all that dry, wordy stuff was boring and all it was doing was putting her to sleep.

But she did what she was instructed and held her trusty N-ZAP '87 with both hands instead of her usual single-handed approach. It didn't feel as fun, but she tried to get used to it, since it was supposed to help improve her accuracy.

"I don't get it." She said to no one in particular. The room was empty, the bunk bed that came with the apartment was only ever occupied on the top bunk, where she slept. The bottom was basically just her couch and designated spot to dump her stuff.

It was a pleasant enough space, even if it was only half-decorated and a bit of a mess. The closet door was open, her out-of-order Carbon Roller visibly in pieces. Various socks and shirts were mostly stuffed away, but a few of them still littered the floor, the foot of her desk and the ladder up to the top bunk. There were no posters or stickers on anything, but there was her stuffed Zapfish plush, affectionately named Little Sparky, who currently wore the book she had been reading on its head like a funny little hat.

She really wanted to use her Carbon Roller again. Dallas had promised to check it over, but with so little time until the open qualifiers, he had to prioritize the repairs of other weapons, and Adelaide knew she'd be sticking with the N-ZAP for the first round at least. But it was so much fun to run around the arena painting the floors, getting right up in people's faces, and splatting them with a quick flick of the lightweight weapon.

Plus, Rome was also a roller wielder, and she liked teaming up with him like that.

"What do you think, Lil Sparky?" She asked, picking up the book again. It even had highlighted lines and extra sticky notes left over from Dallas's many reads, yet it was still a dry and dull affair. She much preferred to just experiment in a live environment.

Her plush stayed upright for a moment, then fell to its side.

"I agree." She stated.

Then her phone rang, and she tossed the book aside without hesitation. It was time for something far more enjoyable.

"Hi Geneva!" She greeted as the phone screen brought up a live video of her friend clocking out from Grizzco and walking out the front door, looking just as grumpy as she did when clocked in.

"Bloody blowfish backsides, you're not gonna believe the shift I just went through." The Inkling grumbled, her voice a little warped and peaky thanks to coming out through phone speakers.

"Lots of flyfish?" Adelaide guessed.

"Ugh...flyfish, maws, Luna Blasters, had to crew up with that creepy dude who keeps mumbling about dead squids and some girl named Kaia."

Adelaide winced. That one worker was an interesting case. He was one of the most experienced Grizzco workers, and the cold, hard, beleaguered look in his eyes betrayed the life of someone who'd been doing that line of work for too long and seen too many things he shouldn't have. And he was only a few years older than her.

"You got out of there in one piece at least?" She asked.

Geneva scoffed, dismissing Adelaide's concerns immediately. "Without a scratch. Much as I hate the shifts, me and ol' Deadeyes could probably do the entire shift ourselves and still meet quota."

"For someone who's hates Salmon Runs, you're one of the most talented runners I know."

Geneva rolled her eyes. "Gotta pay rent somehow..."

Her voice trailed off. Adelaide knew her life situation was always a downer, and Adelaide knew any help she'd offer would be rejected and rebuked immediately.

"Wanna watch Revenge of the Bony Krakenstein 3 when you get home?" She offered, changing the subject.

"I've got another shift to run tomorrow at noon as well." Geneva responded. "Either I get some sleep or I go in tired tomorrow."

"That's fair, we can wait another-"

"But it's a good thing I hate my job." The Inkling cut her off. "Get your snacks, I'll get my laptop out the moment I get home."

Adelaide grinned from ear to ear. What better way to spend the rest of the evening than by watching a bad movie with a good friend.

"Alright, catch you soon, nerd." Geneva smirked, a rare sight for the Inkling. "Gotta catch me a train."

The background noise got louder for a brief moment as she walked into the station, and then the call disconnected, leaving Adelaide alone in her room once again, the borrowed book right in front of her, Little Sparky's eyes looking at her almost expectantly.

"Oh fine, I'll read a little more." She picked up the book again, rolling her eyes just like her friend had. "But I'm not giving up movie night!"