To say she'd been scared was an understatement. To say that it was fun after the shock had worn off was also an understatement. Finley hopped out of the elevator with a grin on her face, looking around at where she'd ended up. It looked like some kind of back alley- a square area surrounded by concrete walls, and a door to the right which led who knows where. There were about a dozen other inklings here- a bunch of people she didn't recognize, Umi and Mari, and... that annoying guy from the train. Great.
She tried to not look in his direction, instead joining her friends, one of whom was consoling the other, who looked a little green around the gills. "It wasn't that bad, Umi, come on..." Mari was rubbing the green girl's back in circles, trying to be a bit comforting, but paused when she noticed Finley approaching. "Ah, look, it's Fin! Fin, what did you think of the elevator ride?"
"It was awesome! Like one of those theme park rides that drop ya'."
"Speak for yourself..." Umi moaned, head in her hands. "I hate those…"
"...fourteen, fifteen, aaaand sixteen!" A masculine voice rose up above the idle chatter as a short, pale, timid-looking, light purple girl exited the elevator.
"Looks like we're full!" A second loud voice, higher in pitch, joined the first one. Everyone turned to the right to see where the speakers were.
A tall, buff, blue inkling man in athletic clothing and a horseshoe crab in some kind of very strange military uniform approached the group. "My name is Mortimer Muir, but you can call me Coach M! I'm here to train you rookies into Turf War superstars! ...or something like that, anyways." He laughed loudly, putting his hands on his hips.
"And my name is Sheldon. I run Ammo Knights, a Turf War weapons shop."
"Weapons?" The newest arrival asked, raising her hand. "Like... plural?"
"We'll burn that bridge when we get to it." Coach M waved a hand dismissively.
"Don't you mean, uh, 'cross that bridge'?" Umi asked.
"Yes, yes, something like that." He clapped his hands. "Sheldon! Give these children guns."
"Right-o!" The crab scurried over to a nearby box of brightly colored guns and gestured for the class to come over, handing everyone one in turn. "This here's called a classic Splattershot. It's a ever-so-slightly modified version of a weapon that was used waaaaay back when, in the great turf war! It's super easy to learn, and even kids can get a hang of it- plus,the Burst Bombs sub weapon and the exiting special Bomb Rush make this an ideal set for learning the ropes!" He rambled as he passed the weapons out.
"Don't tell them too much at once, you're gonna scare them. I haven't even taught them how to fire it, you can't be throwing the word 'bombs' around." The taller man playfully smacked Sheldon on the shell.
"I already know how to fire it." Sydney was the first to raise his gun and pull the trigger, but nothing happened. "Hey, what gives?"
"Don't get ahead of me. They're color-locked. For your safety. Or something." Coach M frowned as Sheldon pulled out a small remote with a few buttons and dials. He pressed the biggest button, and a small, light blue, circular light on the ground lit up. On second inspection, it seemed to be a lot more than just a light- there was a lot of wiring and extra apparatus around it.
"This is the most important part of Turf War apparatus we have- it's called a 'chemiformically color-machinery-based form-hooking machine', but everyone just calls it a 'respawn point'. We made it so when you die in the game, you don't die in real life."
The coach stretched for a moment before shrinking down into squidnoid form. He slid along the ground until he was resting on top of the light, then motioned at Sheldon with one tentacle. The crab pressed a smaller button, and the coach vanished into the machine, reappearing shortly in a lighter blue. Coach M stood up, grabbing his own gun (similar to those the kids held, but with a tiny bit of ink inside) and aiming it at the far wall, shooting a single burst of colored ink that splattered against the concrete.
"Boom. Aw'right, everyone line up, we all gotta be the same color. Don't want nobody getting hurt before you're even hooked up properly." Coach M helped everyone change their own color- when Finley's turn rolled around, she had a bit of trouble becoming a squid (hadn't done it in ages, come to think of it) but eventually she managed to get herself in the respawn point. It only took a second, and it didn't hurt at all, but the slimy feeling still sent a shiver down her spine. She took her gun back, looking at it closely, and as her hand touched the handle, the tank started slowly filling with ink.
"Woah. This is... trippy." Mari muttered as she emerged from the spawn point, looking around. "Am I blue now?"
"Yup." Finley looked her up and down as she approached. "Looks good on you."
"Why, thank you." She twirled around a bit. "And the same to you."
"That's everyone, then? I'll keep this on, just for safety, but please don't mess with it." Sheldon herded them away from the glowing apparatus on the ground.
"Now!" The coach clapped his hands together. "As you probably already know, the goal of Turf War is to cover as much ground in your color as you can. Rule Number One! Walls are not turf. Only ground. Don't be a moron." He tapped his foot.
"But they're still useful, aren't they-"
"I'm getting to that bit!" Coach M laughed, cutting off another of Sydney's interruptions. "Kid, I got this. I've coached little league Turf War up in Kana for seven years now."
"This is about as far from little league as you get." Someone pointed out.
"Yeah, yeah. Very funny. Come on, everyone try out your guns, fire some ink at the ground, you know the drill." They all did so, shooting blobs of ink at the ground with varying levels of accuracy- some people shooting the wall to be funny- and after one boy'd gotten his malfunctioning Splattershot replaced, he was the last to fire a shot. "Good. That's everything you need to know in order to play."
"Really? That's so simple." Wow, that Sydney guy sure did like talking, didn't he? "You can't be done already."
"I said in order to play. That was just the very basics. Like- like breathing level basics. Work with me here, kid." Coach M stood on top of the ink the class had just fired. "Rule Two! Swimming is survival." He became a squid again, but this time instead of standing out against the pavement, he automatically sunk into the paint, head shape barely visible against the ink. "When you're in the ink, the other team can barely see you!" The man raised his voice- hearing must not have been very easy down there.
"If you're still, you're practically undetectable, but if you move- like this, for example," He continued, swimming in a little circle. The onlookers could see small ripples of ink following him around. "Then the bad guys can find you. So be careful!"
As he emerged, he held out his gun. "As you'll notice, when you're down there, your ink tank recharges. They go up naturally from contact with your body, but when they're submerged, it reloads much faster. These little guys can absorb ink from the surroundings, but in the real deal you'll get an ink tank strapped to your back." Coach M took aim and painted the whole area blue in only a couple of seconds. "Don't be shy, give it a go. Swimming time!"
For the third time today, Finley experienced a sensation that topped her previous 'weirdest feeling ever felt'. This would take some getting used to- it was kinda cold, and kinda slimy, and there were other squids bumping into her, which was really creepy, but… it was also kinda fun. She hadn't swum in ink since the third grade, when they all had to learn as part of a safety thing, and she'd honestly forgotten how it felt like. But it was returning to her, and getting more natural by the second.
"This way, everyone!" Coach M was hopping in and out of the ink, shooting at a little ramp up to a similar chamber of the alleyway training course. "Have at thee!" The young inklings followed, and once they realized they were being given free reign to ink this place, all hell broke loose. Ink flew everywhere, people were swimming around like mad, and once someone realized you could swim up walls, it seemed there was no way to calm the class.
Fin had just barely started trying to do that thing she'd seen Umi do where she squeezed through tiny holes in the grates mounted on the walls when Coach M got their attention by standing in the center and throwing something through an old basketball hoop on one wall. A glowy, round, something. Which exploded on impact with the ground. (He was applauded.) "Rule Three! Always be aware of bombs. If you're caught by surprise, yer out."
"Are these actual rules?" Mari raised an eyebrow, coming to sit on one of the platforms, swinging her legs and almost kicking some kid in the face. (What a poorly-timed jump.)
"More like guidelines. Tips. The actual rules are a bunch of wordy mumbo jumbo, I think they gave you some papers, whatever. It's not like they're real easy to break. Mostly." (Fin slightly doubted this guy's competency as a teacher, but his charisma more than made up for it.)
"Sub Weapons! There are ten types. Ten." He walked off, motioning for them to follow him, and when they went into the other area, Sheldon had cleaned up all the ink, replacing it with a setup of several weird-looking... things. "Three types of bombs, and seven not-bombs. Bombs first, they're the most fun." He picked up a box with three different bombs in it. "The triangle! A Splat Bomb!" He held up an ink-filled pyramid for them to look at, and then threw it against a wall, where it hit the ground and exploded after a couple of flashes. He did the same with the other two- the circular one that exploded on contact being christened a 'Burst Bomb' and the one that stuck to the wall given the nomer 'Suction Bomb'. In her head, Fin was taking notes about how he threw them- there was a difference. It was slight, almost unnoticeable, but certainly there. She would definitely have to wrap her wrists around that little nuance later. "If you use them right, your chances of winning will be increased by... a whole lot." Annoyingly unspecific. "Moving on."
One by one, they were introduced to the different 'sub-weapons', and even given opportunities to try and use them- Finley took a liking to the Splash Wall, the vertical ink shower, and Mari seemed to be enjoying running around in circles with a Sprinkler. (Everyone was covered head-to-toe in ink at this point, it was inevitable.)
"The last one is special." Coach M started unfolding a device that looked like a small satellite. "A Squid Beakon. It doesn't do much on its own, but it's very important because it allows you to bend the rules of the game." He waved his hands like he'd just been talking about bending time and space.
"...what?"
"Rule Four! When Super Jumping, always stick the landing." He did a silly pose. "One of the most important actual factual set in stone rules of Turf War is that when you are a squid, you are only allowed to Super Jump to other teammates... or one of these nifty little things, if there is one. You'll be able to see it, there's a- a tracky devicey thingy thing. I don't know the specifics." Had this man ever played this game in his life?
"You get a watch with a mini-map of the area." Sheldon piped up. "Very advanced. Tells you all about it on the website."
"Yeah, yeah, techy whatever. Super Jumping. Everyone knows how to super jump." Also required to learn in the third grade. "This little beacon can be placed anywhere on the battlefield, letting you Super Jump there in an instant- but if you do so, you land on it and crush it, so it's one-time-only. Don't worry, it won't poke you."
Super Jumping... Finley wasn't exactly comfortable with that. It'd always been frowned upon back home, since you got ink everywhere, and just like most of the skills needed for this game, it'd been years since she'd last done it. Maybe this was going to be harder than she thought...
"You're gonna be given a little belt- like this one-" Coach M showed off his own belt, which had a lot of different devices and mechanisms on it. "-see, this one's where your Sub Weapon comes from, it's a little box, and they expand once you take them out. This connects you to the respawn point, this one makes sure your tank properly fills up with ink, this one keeps the belt on..."
As he was explaining, Sheldon took a little capsule out of a packet and threw it at the ink, which started rapidly dissolving into thin air. "We use these to clean up. Breaks up the compounds in the ink so it evaporates much quicker." He explained upon being given questioning looks.
"So, that's pretty much all you need to know! Cover turf, swim around, use your sub weapons, don't Super Jump to anywhere you're not allowed to. Any questions?" A lot of people had a lot of questions. "Good! Now, the fun part begins."
Sheldon wheeled a cart chock-full of different weapons out from the door to the right, and tipped it so they spilled out onto the ground. "Have at thee!"
The kids spent the better part of two hours playing around with the different weapons. Their teacher had clammed up about them, preferring them to learn from experience, and it was a wonderful fiasco the likes of which the girls from Moray Gulf had never witnessed.
Finley particularly liked the giant ink roller- if covering turf was the name of the game, best to go with the weapon that would paint the most area the quickest, right? Maybe this was the weapon she'd choose.
Just in the middle of the fun, however, Sheldon stepped in, dissolving the ink and clapping his hands. "Alright, everyone put my weapons back in the box. You can keep the Splattershots, they're standard-issue for all new players, but if you want some from my shop, you'll have to buy them."
"What? Aw, man..." Finley frowned as she reluctantly handed the roller over. "How expensive are they?"
"You pay for them with the coin-tokens that you get from winning Turf Wars, so it shouldn't be much of a problem." Sheldon grinned. "I hope you drop by Ammo Knights soon!"
"Really?" Umi seemed skeptical. "This is all, like, out-of-pocket? Free admission, free gear… Surely a project of this scale has to cost something."
"I run Ammo Knights out of pure passion and love for my craft, miss!" The little crab saluted. "It runs in my family!"
"No, I meant- ugh, never mind." She rolled her eyes, handing over her charger.
"Now, that's it for the basics. If y'all have your forms signed, line up here, and if you don't... uh, just go over there or something." Coach M waved a hand dismissively, picking up a small box of plastic cards from a nearby bench and leading the pre-approved children to the elevator, pressing a button. "Everyone take one of these. You'll get your ID card filled out at the top, you're in the General Division, Beginner Class, Rank D."
"What's all that mean?" Sydney frowned. (Finley had to stop herself from grinning smugly at the fact that he was still staying behind with them.)
"Divisions are based on age- Junior, General, and Senior. Your Class is based on your skill level. This is probably to keep teenagers from stepping on toddlers and pros from mopping the floor with newbies like you all."
"Makes sense…" At least Persimmon would be playing with people around her height. That was reassuring.
After the last of the kids approved to play had gone up the elevator, Coach M returned to the handful of kids still waiting- about five. Mari, Umi, Fin, Sydney, and the frail-looking girl who'd been purple earlier. "So, you all don't have your forms?"
"Right... we only got them this morning, and we live, like, an hour away."
"Two hours…" The stranger's voice matched her appearance.
"Aw, that sucks. Well, there's a way for you all to play too, it's just a lot of things are restricted, it's a lot safer, yadda yadda... Boring, compared to the real thing, really, but-"
"I don't care!" Finley put her hands on her hips. "Lemme at it!"
"Woah, someone's feisty!" The coach laughed. "Alright, alright! Just lemme get your names..." He put down the now-empty box, picking up a clipboard and a pen that seemed almost comically small for his hands, pushing them over to the elevator and changing its destination with the press of a button.
"Sydney Lagunov." Of course, he was at the front of the line.
"Careful in the elevator, Squiddo."
"Um- I'm Aleena... A-Aleena Bowline..." Somehow, that name seemed to suit the timid girl.
Umi and Mari were next, and then it was finally Fin's turn. She gave her name and leaped into the elevator without caution, hat almost falling off as she sat down and awaited the seatbelts. She wasn't afraid of this ol' elevator anymore!
It started moving.
This time it was a lot… faster. The 'elevator' seemed to have been traveling more like a space-pod from those sci-fi books, going up and right and then more right then up and more up than right and soon she lost all sense of direction, squeezing her eyes shut and holding tight onto the handles. Maybe there was reason to be scared...
The cute lights went off in the capsule, and except for a single light on top of the door, everything went dark.