Splatoon: The Brothers and the Others

Not-So-Secret Admirer

Pirah stood at the door of the wooden shack on the hill with a smile on her face and dimples in her cheeks. She rapped on the door with her right knuckle pleasantly.

"I wonder if this is enough." Pirah stared down at her left hand. She carried a staunch bouquet of daisies. "Took me forever to get all of these. I'm sure Phish will understand!"

Behind her several patches of grass laid now barren and brown. In fact, the hills around the house were almost entirely plain and devoid of grass. Despite the fact she systematically slaughtered row after row of flower Pirah continued to hum with all the innocence of a newborn. She clutched the bouquet label tight. She suddenly glanced down at the bunch of picked daisies. The label read, "Happy Teuthadine's Day".

"...Maybe he doesn't celebrate this holiday." Biting her lip and glancing back, she surveyed the countless fjords of flower murder, and went right back to gazing at the door. "...But then again…"

She furrowed her brow restlessly. Curiously, she stepped towards the windows, and peeked in. Even if Pirah squinted her eyes the dark lighting made it difficult for her to make out anything.

"...Maybe he isn't home." Pirah hummed and shifted around. "...Where else would he be?"

Pirah's trepidation burst out into a frustrated growl. She slammed her face on the door and sighed deeply.

"C'mon Pirah." She spoke to herself. "He's just your friend and this is just a friendly thing. You didn't leave Xarius by himself just to stand outside."

Back at Pirah's dainty little apartment Xarius sat upon his small bed in his equally small room. The small squishy blue squid gazed about bored with one stubby tentacle on what appeared to be his cheek.

"...Oy." He squeaked to himself. Xarius felt a rumbling from deep within him. "...Where does Pirah keep the sweets jar again?"

With that said he slid off his puffy cot unceremoniously and shuffled off out of his room. A few seconds past and the aroma of smoke began to fill the apartment.

All of a sudden Pirah gazed up at the sky. "It's just a holiday. Get it over with."

She took in a deep breath and reached upwards to knock on the door. While she did she hardly noticed the line of black that trailed up from the city behind her. As soon as her knuckle graced the door it suddenly flung open. Pirah blinked in confusion, poked her head inside, and looked around.

The house's light was dim aside from the light that flowed in from the Pirah-sized hole current and stagnant in the roof and the light that flowed in through the glass panes to the side of the doors. She squinted, switched into a squid, and sneaked in across the floor. Not before she reached back with her tentacle and smacked the door back into its rightful place. With all of the pacing and stealth of a snake, she went off slithering across the ground, or at the very least squishing herself across the floor.

Pirah arched her small head up towards the corner of the room shrouded in darkness. A lone bed laid with its bedding strewn about. Nothing laid within its disheveled sheets. Pursing her lips, she began morphing back upright into an Inkling, then turned her attention to the right. Through the bit of light she had she noticed the stove, the fridge, and the counter cluttered with letters and pens.

Pirah shrugged her shoulders and turned around. "Wait a minute!"

She practically body-slammed the table as she spun back towards the kitchen. Clusters of letters flapped up into the air and were instantly snagged by a very cautious Pirah. Carefully, she surveyed the house, specifically the door, and turned her attention back to the multiple different letters.

"...Hm." Pirah plucked one up quickly. The envelope was stamped with a doodle of an octopus. "What's this?"

She flicked open the flap of the letter and reached inside. A worn letter yielded itself to her sight.

Hey Squidiot,

I know we haven't talked in a long time. There's a good reason for that somewhere. I just wanted to talk to you again. ...Even though this is technically writing.

Pirah furrowed her brow. She continued reading.

I've never been much for letters. I wish I could talk to you up personal again, but you and I know that's not going to happen. Unless you manage to get into the valley somehow. …

"Dot, dot, dot?" Pirah read aloud.

...You remember how we used to share a sleeping bag?

Pirah's eyes widened and a hue of blue crossed her face.

Heh. Well if I'm honest I kinda just stole it from you. Sorry about having to lay on the grass all the time.

Pirah sighed in relief.

...Phish, even if this makes me sound like a real catfish, I miss you. You're like my best friend. And I don't hold that lightly. Not a lot of people deserve that title. We might've been through shell and back, but honestly, that war was probably a few of the most fun days I've had in my life. Now I'm not saying we start another one. People still died. But all I'm saying is that if I had the chance to relive it all over again...I wouldn't mind it.

She took up a seat on a stool by the counter. Pirah felt humbled; she laid her right elbow on the counter sheepishly as she read.

Well, that's all I can say. This paper that I stole is starting to run out. If we ever meet again I hope it isn't in a warzone.

See you. Octojerk

Pirah lowered the paper. She sniffled sympathetically and gazed up at the ceiling. With that she respectfully folded the page back up and stuffed it back into its rightful envelope. Pirah adjusted her Black Arrowheads and placed the letter back on the table. As she did a peculiar beam of light fixed itself on her. Her eyes widened.

Phish stared back just as wide-eyed at the door with one hand on the knob and the other behind him. "...Uh…"

Pirah plopped down on the floor and scrambled to get up to her feet. She stood up with her bouquet behind her back. "Sorry!"

The ensuing conversation became a jumbled mix of excuses and apologies. Phish stammered and asked something while Pirah managed a flustered smile all while she hid her flowers behind her back. They stopped all of a sudden, stood rigidly straight, composed themselves and glared ahead.

"...You broke in again?" Phish inquired rhetorically.

Pirah nodded in embarrassment. "I...yeah." Suddenly her grip on the bouquet tightened and she started to shiver somewhat. "But it was for a good reason! I-"

"Well, before you say anything, can I give my two cents on this?" Phish asked with an eyebrow cocked.

"...Sure." She managed sheepishly. Pirah looked up and at him.

"Okay, good, I was worried this might end up being as cliché as possible before the proposal." Phish sighed in relief.

"Proposal?!" Pirah blinked in shock.

Out from behind Phish's back was his left hand. In his left hand he carried three small heart-shaped boxes. Pirah gazed up at him. He adjusted his tie with his right hand nervously.

"It was...sort of lucky you managed to pop in." He sighed and gazed up at the ceiling. "Cod, I can't believe I'm asking you this." Phish directed his stare right back at Pirah. "Pirah, will you-"

"Yes!" She cried out and tackled him to the floor.

"Oof!" He grunted as he fell to the wooden floor below. Phish peered back at her. "I think that's a little much for a Teuthadine's Day present don't you?"

"I don't care!" Pirah beamed and stuffed her bouquet of flowers in his face. "Thank you so much! I'm so sorry I peeked into your letter! Here, Happy Teuthadine's Day!"

"...Wait you did what?!" He stammered.

The two Inklings squirmed and eventually stopped their impromptu gift session on the floor. As Phish's scolding words began to ring out from the house a pair of seagulls flocked on top of his house. The two gulls landed gracefully on the roof and hopped towards one another. They nestled closely and began to squawk at one another quite profoundly all while the squids below them continued to yelp and cry out in a very awkward symphony.

Elsewhere but miles off into the distance there laid a mountain. This mountain, if one could call it that, along with several others comprised a simple rock formation. They clustered together in a the form of a valley with one very large octopus-shaped rock formation overlooking the deep abyss below.

Upon one single mountain laid a shack almost indescribably invisible to the naked eye. It sat underneath the great octopus' tentacle and above the scar etched in between the rocks. Just outside of the shack there lay an Octoling, still blessed with youth, yet a discreet sense of age in her violet eyes.

Garbed in a very simple sweater and black pants she gazed wistfully at the sky. Stacked at the wall besides her laid a simple "T"-shaped bamboo staff. She sighed, rested her head back, and listened to the wind as it whistled by, tousling her tentacles as a result.

"...Happy Teuthadine's Day to me." She sighed and closed her eyes peacefully. "Hope you're having a good one too."

She rested back with a content sigh with one hand on the Bamboozler.

AN: Oh hey look for once I'm actually kinda early to the holiday. ...It's not going to make up for Squidsmas or New Year's, that's for sure. Maybe this year I can actually write on time for once!

...Ha.

Thanks write n wrong, Arrekusu, and Darkstar248 for reviewing!

I'm not sure anyone would survive Tai's dominion of fanfiction write n wrong. It would be an apocalypse, a deluge if you will, of the lowest quality attempts at stories. They wouldn't really be stories as much as talking into a microphone.

Arrekusu, if you do that to your story, be prepared. You never know what might happen. I openly welcome you to do that but at this same time encourage you to exercise extreme caution in writing things like that. It can be...too silly for our minds to properly process logic.

Darkstar248, good point, I know I've already gone over this whole song and dance with you but I'd like to address that issue right here and right now.

I'd like to address something recently that's been admittedly...bugging me. This may come off as selfish, and may, quite frankly, just waste a few seconds of your life, but if you're willing to read go right ahead. Otherwise thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle.

...Oh, you're still here? Well...if you REALLY want to here me rant then I suppose I'll go right ahead. Feel free to leave your cursor on the screen, take a few snacks, and maybe get a drink because this rant is not going to be a short one.

The whole "Everyone's leaving fanfiction" bit, I think Ultrapyre, TheSwimmingSquid and I are a few of the only guys who have noticed. I've also already informed Darkstar248 about this but seeing as you guys are still here I suppose I should give my two cents.

There have been some new writers popping up here and there and good old SwimmingSquid is still chugging strong with Inkinators, but as of late a majority of the older mainstay writers, mainly the very popular ones and the Shared Universe, have gone off their own way.

It's probably completely selfish of me to think that way but the way I see it everyone has ditched Fanfiction with prolonged hiatuses to boot. Like, uh, I hate to bring her up as an example, but apikachua as a writer decided to leave after the reviews I believe. ...Which I believe may have been partially my fault. Even if I was no longer a fan of their stories it feels sad that they left their story because of less than positive reviews, which may have included my own input on their writing.

It's not just them. As I have mentioned before people such as the revered "Shared Universe" Splatoon writers' group which I GUESS I used to be a part of disbanded later and everyone left. Well, most everyone, DreadAngel, those you may or may not know, still occasionally comes by to criticize other stories. A few others like LuckyMiltank still have the desire to update, but their personal lives appear to have taken their toll on them. Most of them moved over to tumblr and update their characters and RP over there with the likes of other more famous Splatoon blogs like "Lee Squidly" or whatever.

At this point you may be wondering what the shell I have been rambling about. Well gang, I'm glad you asked, because I am actually sort of lonely in a sense. Regardless of your opinion on the guy, the only other Splatoon writer I've been able to read and collaborate with has been Ultrapyre, and I've enjoyed his story and updates. However, it feels lately that he, TheSwimmingSquid, and I, as narcissistic as this may sound, are the only "veterans" of this site who update anymore. I'm not saying it out of meanness. I just miss...reading other peoples' stories.

Although I miss reading their stories, I do also feel glad for them, because this means they've sort of left behind Fanfiction and actually decided to live their lives. And...darn. Good for them...good for them.

Uh, sorry for the lack of any prestigious vocabulary and the rant, but I hope that explains your question. You seem to still be around reading as well as others but in my eyes there are little to none in familiar faces that update their stories as frequently anymore.

(Even though I only update like once in a blue moon as of late but that's beside my admittedly hypocritical point)

I just really miss reading other stuff. I consider myself a reviewer/reader of stories on these archives first and a writer second. With so little activity on this website that falls to me and few others to serve as the writers who send out material. Problem is, we're so few and far between, that, we cannot sustain our stories for any new audiences nor can we properly entertain those who want to read.

Let me elaborate one last time. We have dedicated fans, and by dedicated, I mean have the decency to leave reviews which is always nice. But I feel as though as soon as the popular writers left so did the swarm of avid readers. I mean, popular Splatoon artists on tumblr always seem to get flocks of fans, but we over here have no one to entertain or tell stories to in comparison to their large numbers. This wouldn't be such a problem if we still had a "community spirit" among us, which, basically dictates several ready-to-write authors writing stories for several excited fans. In layman's terms we need morale and I think we're lacking quite a bit in the archives.

Quite frankly I think we're floundering. Hard. I understand that some people write for fun, others to express ideas, etc. so on and so forth. But in my honest, honest opinion, without an outgoing community with tons of fans open to other ideas and stories we're stuck in a hole in the ground. ...At least in terms of content. I'd be fine like this, just writing, and having people jump in from time to time to critique my ideas, but at the same time I don't want this place to die out.

Now, before we do anything, I'm not saying we advertise our fan fiction on other sites or we start updating like crazy to be relevant. I think that's foolhardy and simply destroys the fun in what we do. I'm just putting out my woes. We can't force anyone back or tell them what to do to their stories. I'm just a little miffed at this abandoned beehive of an archive with nothing to do and nearly nowhere to go.

Then again folks Splatoon 2 is right around the corner. Hopefully that sparks up some creative juices! Preferably in strawberry flavor.

I'd also like to say that I'm thankful for the fans of this story for sticking around for so long just to read literal creative spit-balling posted in story form. It means more than you know to me. Just seeing something as simple and silly as this get this much support from this many people. I just hope that others can experience the same thing along with me and feel as though they are accomplishing something more than wasting keyboard strokes or posting with no responses.

Thanks again for reading this rant of mine, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, I...may hypocritically go on an absence after this actually. ...Shoot. Really got myself trapped in a box here. Well I suppose you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs. I'll see all of you next time.