Splatoon: The Brothers and the Others
The Fragile Line Drawn in the Sand
Splin sneezed. With the jumbled bits of his still functioning consciousness, he recalled that this had to be the third or fourth time he sneezed today. Two figures towered over him, staring down at him worriedly. Though blurry, he could make out their lime green and blue tentacles dancing around the heads of two he could barely recognize.
"..." He woozily shook his head, his vision still adjusting, though very slowly.
Maria and Sharq stared back at Splin, whose eyes seemed glazed over at the moment.
"Splin, wake up..." Sharq frowned, waving his hand.
"You need to wake up Splin. Come on…" Maria asked politely, rubbing Splin's forehead.
All that came out of the young Inkling was an incohesive mutter, before he closed his eyes, nestling into his pillow and comforters. The older Inklings glanced at each other worriedly.
"His temperature seems normal. I don't get it." Maria sighed.
"...What do we do now? Splin's so sick… Maybe we should take him to a hospital." Sharq suggested.
"He doesn't seem to be in pain, Sharq. Just… Extremely tired and-" Maria frowned.
"Does that mean he's dead?!" Sharq yelped.
"What?! Oh, no no no!" Maria shook her head and hands frantically, "I'm just saying he could just be suffering from energy withdrawals or something! Nothing serious, he still has a pulse and all!"
Too late Maria tried comforting Sharq. Within seconds, the older brother was curled up on the floor, biting his lip, his eyes just a bit watery.
"Oh Splin, I'm sorry!" Sharq shouted, "Where did it all go wrong?!"
"The day… We entered… That inkslide park…" Splin murmured from across the room.
Sharq spun around quickly. Splin laid peacefully on his bed with his eyes closed. Sharq glanced up to Maria, who shrugged.
"Have to give Splin credit," Maria commented, "He's certainly tact with his quips."
"Oh…" Sharq frowned, "I hope he's going to be okay."
"Don't worry Sharq. I'm sure he'll be fine. In the meantime, let's let him sleep, okay?" Maria suggested.
Sharq stared across the room over at the corner of the house where Splin and his bed sat, the staircase adjacent to the right. His younger brother's chest rose and sank with the rhythm of breathing, signifying his still beating hearts. Sharq acknowledged his life, but with a heavy set of hearts, staring down at the floor gloomily. Maria noticed his depressed stance, and pat Sharq on the back.
"Hey, what do you say we go out for a walk. Maybe that will clear your mind. Ann-Gel?"
Ann-Gel popped out behind the kitchen counter. Maria frowned, as she had reverted to her previous orange tentacled appearance. A cube stumbled about behind her, giving off a warm, colorful glow.
"Make sure to take care of Splin, yeah?" Maria asked, lifting her Golf Visor up so that her eyes caught Ann-Gel's.
"Sure Maria. The cube, Salty, the alarm clock, and I-" Ann-Gel began.
Across the room, the alarm clock ticked silently, its lights dimming, swapping out with multiple zeds floating across the screen in a floaty fashion, blips imitating Splin's light snores. Ann-Gel blinked, clearing her throat.
"Make that the cube, Salty- Um…" Ann-Gel paused.
Ann-Gel suddenly glanced around the room, then shuffled behind the kitchen counter. Venturing up the counter, looking about the room from a higher perspective to a mini statuette, then scrambling back down via a collection of shelves extended outwards like stairsteps, she walked back to the where the cube sat, frowning.
"...Where is that snail?" Ann-Gel muttered.
"It's fine, we trust you." Maria spoke softly, "Let's go Sharq."
Sharq sighed, nodding, both of them starting for the door where the greenery of the grass and the azure skies overhead, the wind whistling through the door as they left. Ann-Gel waved them off, then turned to Tele-Cube with a frown, the cube making small blips.
"Alright cube, Splin's been in bed for days now. What do we do now? Can't you make some miracle cure or something?" Ann-Gel asked.
The cube made an electronic humming noise. As it did so, a large red "X" appeared on the front of the screens, the cube shaking in a "No" fashion. Ann-Gel stared at it unconvinced. To prove its point, the cube glowed, a red and blue pill of sorts manifesting on the ground. Ann-Gel smiled, but the smile vanished as did the pill, the pill crumbling into bits.
"Huh?" Ann-Gel stared at the cube.
The cube displayed a list scribbled in a digital pen. Ann-Gel's eyes narrowed, scanning through the list quickly.
"...I don't get it." Ann-Gel muttered.
A pair of digital lines simulated pupils and rolled, the list shrinking to a small document picture on the cube's screens. Ann-Gel tilted her head, still confused. The list was followed by yet another document. And another. And a few more. Ann-Gel's pupils shrunk once she realized that a stack of document files were piling up, filling up one screen to the next with no signs of stopping, until one final page, a cover sheet, reading "Plot Device Rules and Guidelines" was added to the very top. Ann-Gel blinked once, frowning.
"...Okay, could you zoom in on the rule that refers to this… Problem please?" Ann-Gel suggested.
The cube blinked, the other sheets separating, landing on one document. A block of text was highlighted in yellow, popping out from the rest of the text.
"'Chapter FE-14, Miracle cures can potentially ruin plots easily unless a challenge or obstacle is presented for the protagonist-' Oh come on!" Ann-Gel frowned, "Splin could DIE, and you can't conjure up a simple cure?!"
A face with disembodied shoulders shrugged, a blank expression on its round, flat features. Ann-Gel stared at the ground in disbelief.
"...Well, what can you do?" Ann-Gel asked.
The cube shifted, the screens buzzing and shaking, the top of the cube opening like a package. Inexplicably conveniently, a machine with a screen with a single green line running across the black screen popped out, two identical machines following suit. The cube made its way to Splin, the machines following in the air closely behind. They were placed down on the ground with a thud, a single black bracelet popping out of the cube's top, placing itself on Splin's wrist. All of a sudden, the monitors sprung to live, with beeps, the green lines bouncing up and down, synchronized with Splin's breathing.
Ann-Gel frowned, caressing her plastic tentacles. "...Okay. Thanks."
The two animate objects watched the screens for any irregularity in the young squid's hearts carefully. Just behind the monitors, the alarm clock switched from its "snooze mode". The time ticked away slowly, as the world seemed to wait and see what the little brother would do.
Splin's eyes opened. Blinking, he glanced about.
"...I'm back here again." Splin observed, looking around the white space.
The dreamscape was as empty as ever, a single tint of white decorating every inch, every centimeter of this bizarre land, the only color in sight being Splin, his clothes, and the shaded shadow he cast behind him. With a mild hesitation, he stepped forward, the floor echoing a hollow sound as he did so. He gulped, his steps forward steadily transforming into a walk. And so Splin walked, for an immeasurable amount of time. Eventually, he slowed down, not of fatigue, but of curiosity. There laid in front of him a thin line. Very thin, a clean scar in the middle of this wondrous dream realm. A thirst for mystery propelled Splin, the solitary brother running towards the line subconsciously. As he felt his tentacles bounce up and down in the traditional wrapped style on the back of his head, he felt the back of his neck and head instinctively.
"Ah. Still no headphones." Splin commented.
Despite the clearly tragic loss of the ability to listen to music, which would in turn be a gamble in the dreamscape considering the lack of sound besides Splin's own echoing voice-
"Oh, ha, ha, overanalysis." Splin smirked.
Hey man, you're the one running to the mysterious slit in the ground, I wouldn't be so hasty if I were you.
"...True." Splin muttered, attempting to slow down, "But I could do without the commentary for now."
Whatever floats your boat.
After his normal, brief conversation with the author, Splin had closed in upon the line. It sat there, beckoning to him with a sort of silence. He looked around, the only thing other than him being his shadow and possibly the voice. Nevertheless, curiosity overtook him, as Splin glanced downwards towards the line.
"...Huh?!" Splin gasped.
Splin felt himself slam into the ground. Surprisingly, it did not hurt, though it certainly shocked him. He groaned, attempting to make his way back onto his feet, pushing the ground with his hands.
"...Huh?!" Splin gasped, attempting to retrieve his hands from the floor.
He found that his hands were stuck in the line. Attempting to pull them out, he tugged, to no avail.
"Oh, great." Splin muttered, looking around him.
After staying stuck for a while, Splin formulated a simple plan. He morphed slowly into a squid, his tentacles still trapped in the floor. Slowly and carefully, he slid his tentacles back out of the ground, the two pieces slamming together. Splin sighed in relief, until he caught a look of his tentacles. Bits and pieces floated off the ends of them, blank squares with flashy colors flashing on the tentacles, colors dripping off his hands like ink. Splin switched to his humanoid form, a stunned look on his face. His fingers seemed to deteriorate in front of his eyes, creating a contrast with the white world. As he lowered them shakily, the palms of his hands touched the floor, the world seemed to end in his eyes. Flashes of color invaded his eyes, blinking about rapidly.
"Nngh!" Splin shut his eyes, the lights fading away.
Splin reopened his eyes slowly and steadily, looking around. Everything was white again. He glanced down at the palms of his hands. They looked normal to him at least. Sighing in relief, he stood up, turned around, coming face to face with a block of text.
Splin froze. The block of text floated in front of him.
"...'The block of text floated in front of him.'." Splin read aloud, his lip quivering hardly noticeably but for the sake of the reader just noticeable enough.
Splin walked around the floating text block, scanning each and every word. Each action he made, whether it was waving-
"'Waving'." Splin repeated, fear creeping in.
Walking-
"'Walking'." Splin muttered, picking up speed.
Running.
"'Running'." Splin muttered.
His fear was intensifying by the second. Not a fear to fight or of flight, but of the unknown; Splin stood paralyzed as he stared at the screen. He could read what happened. With a shaky hand, Splin touched the text in front of him, the screen moving down.
Gulping down his fright, Splin read forward, "'S-Splin woke up with a start, gasping for breath, looking about the house.'..."
It was at that point that Splin fell backwards into nothingness.
Meanwhile in reality, Ann-Gel and Tele-Cube were hopping on Splin's chest frantically, the heart rate monitors' lines going flatter and flatter.
"C'mon! Live! Live!" Ann-Gel shouted as she hopped up and down frantically.
The cube also hopped on Splin's chest, the young brother hardly breathing. Suddenly, a chilling sound caused the objects' arguably artificial hearts to sink down into their… Frames. Turning around, they noticed the lines on the monitors. All were flat. Ann-Gel, her mouth agape, nearly collapsed on the younger brother. The Tele-Cube noticed this, frantically opening its top, revealing a set of defibrillators. They sparked, the cube lowering the resuscitation tools, Ann-Gel hopping clear, eyes growing to the size of dinner plates.
Splin woke up with a start, gasping for breath, looking about the house. He quickly noticed the defib units lowering onto him, and with a newfound energy, he protested:
"Hey whoa wait stop! I'm alive- I'm fine!" Splin gasped, nearly tumbling out of bed.
The defibrillators halted mid-air, retracting back into the cube. Ann-Gel gasped with a beaming expression on her face, then ran up to Splin's face, hugging his chin.
"Oh thank Cod you're alive!" She cried out.
"Yes, of course! I'm alive. Nothing to worry about. No need to shock me." Splin stated quickly, backing away, Ann-Gel letting go out of sheer embarrassment.
"Yeah, sorry, sorry, it's just…" Ann-Gel breathed in and out.
"Ann-Gel?" Splin asked, looking over the hyperventilating trophy.
"Aw, you had us worried! Seriously, we just thought-" Ann-Gel stuttered, tears threatening.
"Okay, okay, I'm good, I'm fine. Thank you for worrying." Splin sighed, rubbing Ann-Gel's tentacles.
She smiled gleefully. "This is great! Can you walk?"
"Er…" Splin blinked, getting up and out of the bed slowly, swinging his legs over the side.
Planting his Orange Arrows onto the floor, he made extra precautions not to accidentally ruin his Designer Headphones, wherever they were. He grunted, standing up straight with a sigh, checking his hands and arms experimentally, before reaching down, picking up his headphones, placing them around his neck.
"...I'm fine." He muttered.
Ann-Gel climbed up onto the end of the bed, Tele-Cube sitting nearby. "Hey, we should go tell the others! Now that you're out of bed, we don't have to keep an eye on you, huh?"
Splin blinked, glancing around the house. "Y-Yeah."
"Hmm? Why, what's wrong with that?" Ann-Gel asked.
Splin blinked again. "Oh, uh, nothing, just had an… Unpleasant dream."
"Ah. Well, it's only a dream, right?" Ann-Gel asked.
Splin looked around him. No text anywhere.
"...Yeah." Splin muttered, "So, where'd they run off to?"
"I dunno, something about taking a walk somewhere?" Ann-Gel commented, tapping her chin.
"I think I'll find them, thanks." Splin told her with a wave.
"Bye!" Ann-Gel waved, humming.
All of a sudden, a rapid beeping caught her attention. She looked back towards the monitors of the screens by the bedside, the heart rate steadily beeping.
"Ah! Right, he must be trying to catch up with them. Well, we don't need these anymore. Cube?" Ann-Gel spoke up.
With a swift movement, the cube took the machines stacked by the bed, somehow easily compressing them into itself. Just before the machines were completely stored away, a rapid beeping caught Ann-Gel's ears.
"...What?" Ann-Gel asked, turning behind her.
She stared directly at the alarm clock, which did not do a thing, just sitting still. The amiibo frowned, turning to the cube instead. The cube halted for a minute, then pulled out one of the heart rate monitors. Sweat dripped down Ann-Gel's face. The line swirled, zigzagged, and practically did anything and everything a healthy heart rate should never do.
She gulped, looking out the window. Then she ran as fast as her little trophy feet could carry her, departing from and dashing outside the house.
Splin landed in one of the sidewalks Inkopolis with a thud, his headphones rattling around his neck. Suddenly, he felt a tingle in his nose.
"Choo!" He sneezed quickly, "...Nngh. I feel like a pipe or something shattered inside of me."
He shook his head, stumbling off on the sidewalk. Unbeknownst to Splin, behind him a fire hydrant glowed and jittered. For a brief second, it flashed. Then, with a quick burst, it exploded, water gushing up into the sky. Splin was already making his way through Inkopolis, the sound of water hardly noticeable in the background. Shocked Inklings scrambled while Splin sneezed again.
AN: Sorry for the delay, another bit of an idea drop, plus work among other things. A good tip for the day would be, "Don't buy a bunch of video games you plan on playing but then realize you have work you need to be doing". It's a good tip, trust me.
Oh by the way, you might wanna skip this rant below if you don't want to skim through an extra paragraph or two. Just warning you! :3
I'm thinking of slowing production for this story again. Now before you all go and call me out on being lazy, which, no lie, I am, I'm thinking that both my idea bank and interest in Splatoon is wavering. Splatoon was hype at first, but now I'm kinda hesitant to touch the game. Seriously, clans, friends with lightspeed Internet reactions and elite teamwork in the game and fan works outside the game just make me feel so overshadowed in comparison, it's nuts. Like seriously, I'm like that stereotypical insecure student at school who feels awkward, not the depressed emo kid who wants to cut himself every five seconds to post on tumblr, but jealous and awkward. A few of my reviewers are so much more popular and skilled than I am in video games and in their craft, *cough* Dread and Cathy *cough*, goodness me. Plus, the original idea for the story, a humorous little Splatoon story that takes pride in just being itself without being warped by outside interference or issues is taking a toll thanks to my ANGST, HIGH SCHOOL DRAMA TEENAGE TURTLE GENES.
But then again, I guess you can tell how much I don't like using the game anymore, just look at the amount of times the brothers enter a Turf War. I dunno, maybe I'm just reaching for excuses. Didn't mean any offense by it nor did I mean to come off as some guy desperate for views, "Read if you want", I say. And if I dissuaded you from reading, sorry guys! Hope the rest of your day goes smoother.
Sorry, just wanted to get all that off my chest. Aside from that hilarious rant, let's take a look at reviews. Thanks Ultrapyre, Darkstar248, and write n wrong for reviewing. I suppose individual work does happen to be the more responsible choice, Ultrapyre. Yes, fourth wall ignorance does happen to run in the Bate family. Well Darkstar248, that's certainly one way it managed to work its way into the story. write n wrong, thanks, I'm trying to get as many characters involved, including Willie and Zip who I feel I'm neglecting. Hmm.
Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, off to await whoever is posting next on my follow list. See you.