Surface-Bound - Kalinkalinka - Splatoon [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1: Chapter 1 - A Nameless Shadow (Prologue)

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Ch 1 - A Nameless Shadow (Prologue)
'February 2022 - Octo Canyon. Once a major stronghold of the Octarian army, it has remained still and quiet for several years and many seasons. The tranquility seemed like it was going to last forever… until recently. Streaks of movement found in the thick snow by morning, with more traces appearing each passing dawn. The traces keep coming closer to the base. At this rate…’

Only under the darker nights did it decide to make a move. A blur of a shadow sifted its way across the walls, footsteps masked by the powdery snow. ‘(Perhaps it’s excessive, but it’s better to be safe.)’ Sighting a cabin of unusual design in the distance, it lurked forwards under the blotchy darkness; a dim red glow from under its veil guiding it ahead to its goal. Reaching the entry of the cabin, it pushed the wooden door open with an aching creak and slipped inside. It wandered around inside with quick glances in each room for threats, and once it decided it was alone, began to pry open the many containers in the house, hastily searching for food and materials. Drawers, cupboards, boxes, everything that could hold anything. A thief, but not of sentimental value - those would have to wait.

‘(Jackpot.)’ They shoved their hand into the bag, pulling out a fistful of raw grain and tossing it into their mouth. It would have been better and much nicer to have cooked it beforehand, but there was no time for that. The ravenous hunger within was far from sated, but it would have to wait; for every second they stayed here was another second of risk. Packing the rest of the rice into a weathered and worn makeshift satchel, they turned away and snuck out the door.

At the cabin’s front door, they stuck their head out into the frigid and restless air of the dark night. Snow had begun to fall. ‘(Perfect for covering traces.)’

Peeking out into a quiet and lifeless vicinity, they stepped back out into the snow with a quiet sigh and prepared to walk away with their loot. That was, until they noticed a figure of green and white, standing in the falling snow outside and watching the scenery from underneath a wooden parasol. How did they fail to spot her earlier? Before they could move, the inkling had already turned around and taken notice of their presence.

“(Oh, a visitor?)” She treaded lightly towards the scavenger, despite her wooden parasol twirling playfully in her hand. “(We don’t get visitors at this time of day. Or at all, really.)” Her tone was best described as smug and completely knowing of the true nature of this ‘visitor’, having said the last two sentences in fluent Octarian.

Recognising the threat, the veiled stranger drew their firearm at the inkling, who quickly shielded herself with the canopy of her parasol. Tape and cracks wrapped the weapon’s surface, itself questionably functional. The snow continued to fall around them as the stalemate went on, the scavenger’s feet beginning to go numb from the cold snow.

“(I can do this for quite a while,)” the squid snarked. “(How about you?)” Their dark tentacles twitched in annoyance from behind the net veil. They couldn’t take the chance that she was stalling, and it was clear that they would be the first to get chilled to the core out here. The silence only grew thicker as more snow piled around them.

Ultimately, a move had to be made. With the flick of a wrist, they threw a bomb directly at the parasol, pushing back the inkling in a successful effort to buy them some time with the explosion of ink. Sighting a ledge nearby, they sprinted towards their newly-found escape route as a last resort. “(I wouldn’t do that if I were you.)” remarked the unscathed inkling, having shielded the blast with their open parasol. As they dived off the ledge, they looked down for a place to land, soon realising that only the cold, abyssal waters welcomed them below. They braced for impact as they began to fall fast into their final decision - but not before an impulse held them suspended and upside-down in the air, knocking off most of their equipment from their coat and the valuable satchel of rice, both continuing to plunge into the looming waters far below without them, now ripples in the still dark.

Several minutes of silence later, the inkling peered down the ledge to find the still-struggling octoling dangling unceremoniously from the rope trap she had set up earlier, now around their ankle. “(Told you so,)” she gloated, rather amused at the sight. A assortment of profane exclamations and colourful claims could be heard from the defenceless stranger as the rope was slowly reeled upwards - marking the beginning of a very, very, very long day for them.

No longer hidden by their makeshift coat, the commander pulled their knees towards their chest as they sat with their wrists bound inside of a net, hanging in the darkness of the cabin’s featureless side room. The kelp matted in her tentacles and tied to her neck and arm floated lazily in the still air, while the faint red glow of her scratched shades dimly lit her surroundings. How long has it been since she was put in here? The net she sat in rocked gently over a pool of water; one deep enough for ink to bleed out of her skin should she fall into it. Escape would be difficult, but even then she had no reserved strength to consider it.

‘(Just…need some… rest…)’ She began to succumb to her exhaustion as her eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment.

Waking with a sudden jolt, she glanced to the door from the corner of her eye, detecting an energetic voice coming from behind it. Soon enough did the panel door slide open, revealing a head that peeked in with excited curiosity. Stepping into the dark room, a most familiar inkling dressed in pink crouched to meet her eyes. “Hiya! Where’d you come from?” she beamed in a peppy tone. The commander simply continued to stare unresponsively through the mesh, wary of the unfamiliar tongue.

“I’m Callie. Can I take a look?” quipped the curious Callie, her hand reaching through the net and towards the octoling’s scratched face. The octoling let out an agitated hiss as the hand drew near, but was too weak to retaliate properly as the cracked shades were gently lifted from her ears. Beneath the shades was an exhausted and heavy eye with a lime-green iris and a peanut-shaped pupil, while her right eye was concealed behind a long bang. The markings around her eyes were a brooding violet, accentuating her hostile look with her tentacles coloured like crude oil.

“Aww, you look so tired,” cooed Callie in genuine pity. “Wait right here.” Walking out the room, the pink-and-black inkling quickly hustled back with a bundle of cushion, rolling it out onto the floor. Sealing the tank of water with a lid, she gestured towards the unfurled blanket, to which the commander morphed out of the net and shuffled droopily towards before collapsing onto it.

The commander struggled to think clearly as the fabric’s softness against her skin further pulled her into slumber. ‘(A trap - isn’t it…)’ Her breath slowed and her vision blacked out as she finally drifted away from reality.

Some time later, the octoling woke up in the same empty room, now insulated by a blanket draped over her body. Much to her surprise, she was still alive, and was left untouched since she fell asleep. She struggled to push herself off the ground as she remained weak from exhaustion, instead opting to sit up. Her stomach writhed and churned with a low growl as she grew delirious from hunger.

As the door slid open, a stranger sat down in front of them. A small bowl rested in their hand, from which came the undeniable savoury scent of cooked food and grilled fish. The commander lifted their head to meet the stranger’s eyes, their stomach protesting loudly.

“(You must be hungry, gurgling like that in your sleep for a whole day.)” The voice was casual and relaxed, differentiating it from the two from earlier, though they shared similar physiques and height. Dressed in yellow, the curious inkling’s tentacles reached no further than their chin, their donned uniform a giveaway that this was one of the elusive agents of the Inkling forces. Their citrus-amber eyes gave off a warm, focused stare - one that was familiar to them somehow…

Her train of thought was abruptly cut off by a spoonful of rice bobbing tantalisingly in front of her vision. “(Say ‘Aah’,)” the inkling grinned. The commander scowled at the mocking instruction, her tentacles beginning to shrivel in rage. Who did this squid think she was? Unable to argue with her ravenous hunger, she quickly bit down on the spoon with force, displaying her serrated beak with each bite while maintaining bitter eye contact with the watchful agent as she continued to be fed by their hand. Eventually, the white-and-green inkling walked to the open doorway to spectate the scene.

“Don’t play with them, Four. They’re to be taken seriously.” The inkling turned their head away to flash a cheeky smile. An opportunity to strike. “It’s fine, Marie! They’re too weak to -“

“Four!” The agent leapt back at Marie’s barked alert, narrowly dodging the octoling’s bite. Struggling to recover from the hard landing and missed lunge, the elite spat aside a mouthful of bubbling black ink onto the wood flooring, seared by the caustic fluid. Marie eyed her carefully as she pulled the stunned agent aside. “(That’s enough,)” Marie warned sternly as she shut the door behind them.

The octoling was left alone once more in the lightless room, now able to finish their meal in peace.

Marie stood outside the locked door while Four slumped against the wall next to her, the agent still wheezing heavily from the scare. This captive proved to be a lot more trouble than Callie’s incessant whining, and would soon be a lot more if she wasn’t dealt with quickly. “Why’d you let her out of the net?” Marie groaned, tilting her head back onto the wall in annoyance. “But she looked so tireeed!” Callie emphatically rebutted, kicking her legs in a childish tantrum. Marie could only sigh again with a cold stare in reply to her cousin’s pleading eyes. “She’s not a pet, Callie. Not only is she a soldier, she’s a decorated elite. We’ll have to ask her some questions before we decide what to do next. We can’t have Gramps or the rest freaking out over this.”

Chapter 2: Chapter 2 - Tentative Foreigner

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Ch. 2 - Tentative Foreigner
Being pulled out from the dark room in her sleep, the commander woke up under harsh brightness, her arms and body now bound to a chair. The two inklings in green and yellow watched her closely from across the table. The agent’s piercing stare bore into the elite, almost as if it would silently interrogate her for them.

“(We need you to answer some questions. It’s in your best interest to be honest,)” spoke Marie, declaring their intentions in fluent Octarian.

“(So, let’s begin. Were you under DJ Octavio’s command?)”

“(DJ Octavio, huh - this is the Squidbeak Splatoon, isn’t it?)” the octo replied, her tone condescending as she boldly sought control over the conversation.

“(Answer me.)” The commander thought about her next words carefully.

“(… I was.)”

“(Who are you working for now?)”

“(And why should I tell that to the likes of my enemy!?)” Marie leaned away from the table in consideration of the seething, tight-lipped response. A less direct approach, then.

“(Alright. Did you think the actions the Octarian Army took were warranted?)”

A livid fury overtook the elite’s mind in a blaze as she heard the question. “(Warranted!?)” she snapped, quite literally boiling over as she pulled at her restraints; twitching with rage. “(I wouldn’t have to watch my kind suffer in failing domes if you squids could spare even a few Zapfish! Do you have any idea how many of us are struggling down there, fighting over the shreds of what’s left!? I’ve had to fight and bleed for food and water, all while you live in excess and sleep in cushy beds! Everything! Everything’s falling apart! All because of you greedy disgusting f*ckERS!)”

Worn out from the wild trashing and her breath heavy from resent, she slumped back down in defeat as to speak no further.

“(So, there are other octolings still living in the valley?)” Marie inquired, now invested and curious about the situation. The soldier spoke not another word.

In an effort to break the impasse, Agent Four slid their phone across the table, the screen’s contents completely alien to the elite. “(Do you remember this song? It’s the one Callie performed last.)”

As the song softly ran its course, the melody began to fill in the gaps to the one in her memory. She knew this song. And even if she didn’t want to, her body wouldn’t let her forget it. The commander let out a heavy sigh as it slowly unearthed her recollection of the monumental day, perhaps also stirring those same feelings in her once again.

“(Well?)”

“(…It awakened an urge in some of us. To leave for the surface; to see the sun and sky.)” Her voice now lacked the steely ferocity from before, now listless and longing instead.

“(I know that most octolings defected soon after feeling this.)” The commander nodded weakly to reaffirm the inklings’ understanding of the situation.

“(Those that heard the Dreadsong absconded, leaving the rest behind as things began to fall apart without electricity. I … the rest left, for ‘greater things’.)”

The pair withdrew from the table to discuss their thoughts briefly, returning to the desk once they came to a conclusion. “(Those defectors made their way up to the surface, y’know,)” Four announced. The simple statement had garnered her full attention.“(They’re living just fine up there alongside us. It’s been a while, but both races have come to a truce.)”

The commander’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “(I cannot trust your kind. Why should I believe your statement!?)” she hissed. Contrary to her words, it was obvious to them that she hoped to be proven wrong; that she desperately wanted to believe them, having perked up at the slightest glint of hope.

A black cloth was slid across the table in her direction. “(Why don’t we show you?)” As wary as she was of the offer, her curiosity of the surface world’s resources ultimately got the better of her. Though she did feel a little guilty about it, she was certain that her group would be able to persist without her for a while as she figured out a way home.

“(…Alright.)” Her vision went dark as the cloth was tied around her head and pulled over her eyes. Shifting and shuffling could be heard as the binding rope around her arms and waist was undone, while a hand clasped firmly onto her shoulder. Flinching silently at the sudden touch, she moved up from the chair and was promptly escorted out into the frigid outdoors.

Taking a discreet and hidden path, Four’s hand guided the captive by the shoulder as they walked down the dark winding halls wordlessly. Only the echoes of her own footsteps and the clacking of wooden sandals behind her reassured the elite that they were walking ahead. Continuing to meander along, the cold air began to pick up, playfully brushing against their skin as it began to rush past them. The octoling’s tentacles repeatedly curled and relaxed in idle anticipation as they trodded ahead blindly.

At last, the warmth of the light welcomed them as they walked out from the dark. The soldier reflexively lifted her rope-bound wrists against her unadjusted eye to shield it from the day’s glare shining through her blindfold, despite having never known the sun before.

“And here we are!” chimed a peppy voice brightly. Even if the tongue was unfamiliar to the soldier, the tone alone was enough for her to understand the message as they stood at the shadow’s edge. With the cloth loosened from her eyes, she held her breath as the light-drenched city was revealed to her with the lift of a curtain.

Inkopolis. A clamorous city covered in colour and activity, with no sign of slowing down or falling apart as loud vehicles whizzed by and pedestrians meandered on with their own lives in the harsh light. Many of the colours plastered all over the city were of shades she had not seen before. It was as if the bright reds, yellows and greens of the city had gained the radiant shine of the light they basked in. The distant yet loud idle chatter of passer-by’s reassured her that this was a place that had not seen conflict on its soil for years.

As they continued along the depopulated and chilly plaza, a small group of adolescents raced each other past them in a racket, dashing to the other end of the plaza where a large door awaited them. The commander’s eyes remained on the kids, spotting that one of them had suckers on the outside of their tentacles much like her.

But it was no secret that she was a stranger. The unusually plated garb and floating kelp had begun to draw curious eyes to her, spurring her to walk faster and follow closely behind them. The commander’s eyes darted around in an effort to distract herself from the unwanted attention.

“(Hmm. Wonder if -)“

The administrative eel behind the metal-barred counter sighed, clearly not being paid enough to deal with such negotiation. “I’ll charge half for the first quarter. If she can’t pay the rent, she’ll be evicted.”

Eagerly pushing the elite up the stairs at breakneck speeds by her shoulders, the peppy inkling directed her to a door at the end of the hall with excessive excitement. Inside the stuffy air of the formerly uninhabited and unlit housing, Callie unbound their sore wrists and gave an energetic smile before closing the door behind her, thus leaving the octoling to her own devices.

With a deep breath, the commander collected their thoughts as they began to inspect the flat thoroughly. ‘(This will be my base of operations for now,)’ she pondered to herself. ‘(Should be good to get familiar.)’

Though unimpressive and barebones to most, the one-person apartment had the essentials: a bathroom, a kitchen, a main room that doubled as a bedroom and an additional room for storage. An old bunk bed sat across her in the corner of the main room, its wooden frame chipped and bedsheets frayed from wear. Though it was damaged and worn, it was a bed of her own, for once in a long time. It oddly evoked feelings of nostalgia in her, reminiscent of her time in much livelier barracks.

Walking back to the entrance, she slumped down against the closed door, alone once more. Her back pressed against the door while her head hung low in weary disbelief. The once-favourable silence no longer comforted her; instead growing more deafening and suffocating with each passing thought as the sinking realisation of her actions creeped into her mind - that she was now alone and lost in the heart of her enemy.

“(…What the hell am I doing?)”

Chapter 3: Chapter 3 - Far From Home

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Chapter 3 - Far From Home
‘I remember experiencing desolate winter silence on the surface.’

Returning from a cold shower with a towel over her shoulders, she came to notice a package that laid atop her drawer, itself wrapped in black plastic much like most dubious packages. A glittery note written in Octarian was attached to it, which was brought close to her curious eye. The cursive, glittery handwriting and poor grammar took some deciphering, but the gist of the message remained.

Unwrapping the suspicious package, she found a worn pair of sneakers and a greyed sweater folded neatly within. “(This is a disguise, huh,)” she scoffed lightly as she lifted up and unfurled the frayed sweater. “(Well, it’s better than clanking around in my armour.)” With a quick shrug, she flipped the cotton garb and pulled it over her head. It fitted oddly well and kept her warm, though the fluffy and frayed material made her skin itch a bit.

Following their directions, she ended up at the base of the tower and in front of the same large doors where she had seen the group of children earlier. The doors remained unresponsive at her presence, while a sign stood guard in front of the lobby’s entrance. Giving a rather forceful knock on the tinted glass, the lack of response made it glaringly obvious that it was closed for now.

The octoling paced down the road home as the frigid dusk bled doubts into her psyche while she began to shiver from the chill winds. Nearing the door to her apartment, specks of white had begun to drift down and around the open sky. A single white crystal made its way onto her outstretched hand as she looked up into the sky, its crystalline lattice soon melting away from the heat of her hand into virtual nothingness.

What truly had been taken from them?

Weighed down by the early nightfall and exhausted by the day’s interactions, the black-tentacled elite sank into her bed without further notice. The warmth provided a much-needed refuge from the dark winter and outside world, one that she greatly relished in what little comfort she had left. As she laid in the featureless dark, her ears picked up a whisper from afar.

“…r…”

The octoling opened her hazy eyes, finding herself laying atop an empty black sea. A cold sensation from below struck as she began to slowly sink under the surface, almost as if pulled by something.
Her limbs remained numb as she tried to struggle.

“…Tr…r…”

The whispers drew closer, filling her ears with familiar yet lost voices. Their hands reached out from the blackened waters, digging into her skin as they pulled her further down with their grasp.
Her choked voice was silenced as her head was pulled under the water.

“…T…tor…”

Her lungs seized as she struggled for air, the mass of bodies anchoring her deep below the abyss’s surface. From the water’s depths lurked a massive coagulation of tentacles, circling the helplessly sinking octoling with a nerve-binding glare.

Her murky vision was blotted out as the tendrils lashed out to her.

“…Traitor…”

Leaping up from her bed, the commander frenziedly gasped as she gripped firmly onto the soft cotton bedding. She sat with an unstable breath as reality slowly settled in around her, adrenaline still coursing through her system. The beckoning voices echoed in the fearful silence as the ominous message embedded itself deep into her memory.

Not even sleep could offer solace or safety from the wintry surface. Laying her head back onto the pillow in an attempt to rest, she could only stare up at the wooden frame of the bed above her, wide awake. It wouldn’t be long from dawn now.

Chapter 4: Chapter 4 - Surface Whims

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By daybreak, the sleepless octoling had already made her way to the snow-buried centre, now standing in front of the towering black doors as a few inklings made their way about the plaza. The lobby’s doors slid open to welcome her, no longer obstructed by a red sign like yesterday. Boldly stepping up to the pedestal, she weightlessly twirled the gifted Splattershot Jr. in her hand as the terminal lit up at her presence.

“(Turf Wars…)”

Reaching out to the only available option, the inner doors opened up at a press of the button. Inside, she quickly came face to face with seven other players, all of which were armed with unusual weaponry and clad in diverse colours as they sat around idly and unbothered. With her entry, the match bell rang. A cup was passed to the octoling by one of the kinder inklings in the lobby as they began to get ready, inside it a viscous shot of green ink.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she peered into the inky fluid. ‘(What’s in this f*ckin’ thing?)’ She thought with mild concern as the solution swirled around lazily within the container.

Looking back up from the paper cup, the friendly stranger gestured to her with a swigging motion. “Drink it,” they said in their tongue. The elite’s tentacles squirmed as she looked back into the cup, its contents not going anywhere.

“(This is gonna suck, ain’t it?)” Eyeing the other players carefully, she put the cup to her mouth as they did the same. ‘(No soldier backs down!)’ she reassured herself.

The solution was viscous like slime and the taste was even worse, bearing a sickening flavour of metallic bitterness like chewing on rust as it burned the insides of her throat. Struggling to keep the fluid down against her reflexive urges, she swallowed some of it with a strained gulp, hacking and coughing up the rest at the terrible sensation and aftertaste. While the other players downed it painlessly, she remained certain that something toxic was in the concoction.

The players were divided into two teams as their tentacles’ colours gradually shifted into shades of green and pink, a much milder outcome contrary to her expectations of being poisoned moments before. Not so bothered by her green ink and more so relieved at the outcome, she followed behind the players as they entered the transit pipe to the match site.

Reaching the skatepark, the two teams rose out of their kettle respawners, hoisting an intimidating slew of chargers, blasters and rollers alongside her rather meagre shooter as they took in the sights and readied themselves for the whistle. That’s fine, she was better than them.

The layout of the map was alien to her, but the battlefield was where she felt most at home - in every sense of the word, being raised on it and built for it. ‘(Time to show them squids some octarian hospitality,)’ Her smirk broke out into a sad*stic and jagged grin as her grip tightened around the trigger. ‘(They won’t even know what hit them.)’

Turns out, they did know what hit them. Well enough to splat her several times over, in fact. That only did wonders on her ego.

Stomping out of the lobby doors, she flung the plastic peashooter at a nearby wall, proceeding to kick and stomp on its frame repeatedly with unyielding force. “(AAARGH! Why can’t I kill even some simple squids!? They would be dead ten times over if I could actually hit them with this sh*t! I could fling my own ink and have better accuracy than this stupid gun!)” she saltily howled. The foot-on-gun violence only continued, the loudness of which attracted some nervous stares. “(f*ck off, you plastic piece of sh*t! If I had a real gun, they would be sh*tters!)” Pressing her worn sneaker down onto the weapon, it finally gave way with a resounding crack, bandaging her wounded pride slightly as the plastic was fractured down the middle under her shoe. In the newfound quiet, her ears picked up soft, muffled steps in the thin snow behind her. Turning her head slowly to the side, a familiar, warm citrine stare could be seen from the corner of her vision.

”Found you!”

Whipping around with the damaged Splattershot Jr. in her hand, she took the chance to pull the trigger at the approaching inkling. A pathetic droplet of ink was all it could offer from its nozzle before falling apart, giving the elite’s plans a little bit of a setback.

The inkling bore the main colours of a peeled citrus, with short, white-speckled bobbed tentacles and a pair of large gleaming eyes that would suggest at a family history of barn owls. “(Don’t worry, I’m not here to splat you,)” The considerate girl giggled at their futile attempt, offering their hand. The soldier’s ego could only be hurt so much more, anyways. “(I figured you’d get really lost out here, so I got here to show you around as soon I could.)” Picking up the other half of the shooter, she jauntily passed it back to the stunned elite. Something about their bright gaze, like unfaltering floodlights in a tempest, made the soldier hesitate to retaliate or act in hostility.

The inkling began to step away, before turning around to find the octoling still wide-eyed and frozen in place. “Judd got your tongue? Let’s go!” quipped the agent reflexively, grabbing onto their wrist as she eagerly pulled them along.

Led by the inkling’s hand, they continued past the tower’s doors and towards the plaza’s corner, passing by a colourful assortment of shops on their right. As they walked, the octoling tugged at the agent’s grip with their held wrist to get her attention.

“…Name?”

“Huh?” The agent stopped to look back at the elite with her topaz irises, alerted by the sudden action. “Your name?” repeated the octoling, in their tongue. Her tense curiosity relaxed at the simple question.

“Oh, you can call me Surume. Or Sunny, if you wanna.”

“Suu..roo-meh?” The inkling nodded approvingly at the pronounciation. “So, what’s your name?” she replied, eager to turn the question on the octo. They paused for a minute to stare back unresponsively.

“Cussss…an..druh.” The name was said hesitantly and slurred, almost as if she chose the name on the spot, which she absolutely didn’t. Yup, that was her name. Definitely.

“Cassandra? That’s a cute name,” cooed Surume with a gentle smile, much to the octoling’s limited-vocabulary confusion. Looking ahead, she resumed to leading Cassandra along the walkway. “Let’s keep going - it’s this way.”

Not that many steps later, the two stood before a shop labelled with an army-green sign at the plaza’s edge - the same one she had visited the day before. The interior was filled wall to wall with racks and equipment displays, on which laid an impressive selection of weaponry. As they stepped into the store, the shopkeep leapt up from under a horseshoe crab shell that doubled as his helmet, eager to greet his potential customers. “Hello, hello! What are you in the market for today?” Adjusting his binocular-esque goggles to get a better look, he recognised the foreign-looking Cassandra from their conversation the day before, ready to launch into another spiel.

“Aha! You’ve played your first turf war, yes? Excellent! No matter if you win or lose; I have a few tips for those new to the sport! First off, I think that you should focus on painting the ground first and foremost, as it increases mobility -“

“That’s enough for now, thanks Sheldon,” Surume interrupted him, as neither of the two cephalings were willing to listen to his four hour introductory lecture right now. “We’re here for her to test out a weapon for a match or two.” Surume pointed towards the intrigued elite, who had already begun to eye some of the displayed weapons. “See anything you like, Cass?” Their eyes followed the octoling as she wandered around the store looking for a weapon that appealed to her. Giving little appeal to the traditional hand-carry shooters, sloshers and blasters, she gravitated towards the larger weapons, already subscribed to the philosophy of ‘bigger is better’. Eventually, she ended up in front of a steel-bodied splatling, its monstrous size intriguing her greatly as it sat anchored to the floor by its own weight.

“Oh, th-that’s - uh, that’s not really for beginners,” Sheldon stuttered as he looked away sheepishly. “Maybe you could - eh?” Looking back, he witnessed the octoling lift the Hydra off the ground single-handedly with ease, almost as if it were a bag of groceries. While the shopkeeper stared in loose-jawed shock, she placed the metal splatling at their feet with a satisfied and proud look. “So, uh… you want to try it?” Cassandra nodded in excitement, unable to convey it in their language.

Back at Deca Tower’s base with their shiny new equipment in hand, Surume and Cassandra marched into the black doors, ready for another match. After a brief wait in the lobby and another shot of not-quite-ink (it tastes just as bad the second time!), they entered the transit pipe, which led them to the rocky chasm of Piranha Pit. Climbing out of the blue respawner with the rest of her team, the elite octo looked ahead and tightened her grip as the match tensely awaited the whistle’s call.

With the shrill noise sounded, the players launched off the respawners with a sprint. Cassandra rushed straight for the tower’s high ground while Surume broke off into a flank; the other two team members taking to the frontline by a warpath in blue. Not one bit unfamiliar with her chosen weapon class, she began to rev the Hydra’s engine, gradually weighing her down as ink and pressure collected in its tank. By the time the skirmishing began in the centre, the barrels of her Hydra drew over the vantage’s ledge towards the fight with an overdriven whirr, its reserves bubbling with malicious intent.

If they weren’t sorry for existing then, they were about to be in a few seconds.

With the release of a trigger, a violent barrage of blue ink blanketed the middle of the stage with deadly precision. Both of the opposing team’s frontliners were overwhelmed by the supporting fire, reducing them into mere puddles as their yellow ghosts rose up into the sky, waiting to be respawned. Eager to push the offensive, she marched out to the map’s centre while revving the splatling’s loud engine - at which point a laser began to hover over her chest. Noticing the distant glare from the corner of her eye, she ducked into the ink, forfeiting her charge and position as she swam away from the incoming shot.

A distant splatter and gurgling could be heard as she leapt into cover from the ink. “This way!” Surume shouted from the now-removed charger’s position, having cleared the backline with her flank route as their weapon tumbled off the tower. ‘(Now we’re talking.)’ Diving back out into the open, Cassandra moved swiftly to the opposing team’s perch in a decisive manoeuvre at the signal, their rollers and blasters now unable to contest her range as she made her way up the tower.

As she prepared to maintain the offensive from the tower’s peak, an octoling with a Splat Brella leapt up from a puddle of ink behind her, having keenly planned such an ambush. Flicking around with the trigger held, she aimed it at the opened canopy, only for the splatling to give an ink-hungry sputter. “(Tch.)” Cornered and dry, she continued to wind up the gun at a painfully slow pace as she backed up against the rail. The opponent octoling dropped the shield to open fire, only to burst into a pool of blue ink as an inkling unloaded a barrage of shots into their exposed back with their dualies.

The match continued to be a splatterfest, with both teams trading merciless blow for blow and struggling for turf domination down to the last second. The players were forced into ceasefire as Judd blew the whistle, who then overlooked the stage with great hesitation. After a moment of suspense, the cat lifted the blue flag decisively, finally declaring their team the winners of the match.

Confidently twirling her Clear Dapples in a flourish before tucking them away, Surume glanced to her side to see the elite bearing a beaky laugh of genuine pride, booming proudly about the earned victory. The agent’s expression softened into a fond smile at the sight, finding her sudden extroversion and joy comforting, oddly so.

A few more turf wars later, the pair walked out of Ammo Knight’s doors, having just returned the loaned splatling back to an even chattier Sheldon. Exhausted from the series of matches, they sat on a nearby bench to take a breather.

“(Why are there so many damn weapons? It’s not like they’re made equal.)”

The random comment’s tone of annoyance caused the inkling to look towards the octoling in blasphemous disapproval. “(Because it’s more fun that way!)”

Cassandra folded her arms with a huff, not having any of the argument. “(Fun!? It’s more fun when you can beat the enemy into a senseless pulp!)”

Surume responded with a cheeky grin and a pumped fist. “(Then that was a lotta fun, wasn’t it? We crushed it out there!)”

“(Tch - heh. Got most splats, showed some squids what I can do with a good weapon.)” The octoling had a broad smirk as they recalled the matches, certainly more confident in her native tongue. “(Shame I can’t keep it.)”

“(I could loan my Hydra to you, y’know,)” The inkling shrugged nonchalantly as she gave the offer. “(It’s not like I use mine.)” Cassandra raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, before sighing dismissively as she looked away. “(Don’t you dare pity me, agent.)”

“(It’s just collecting dust. You could use it until you get your own.)”

On the suburban streets away from the plaza’s walls, the octoling walked freely beside the agent as they made their way towards the restaurant, taking in the many sights that were pointed out by Surume. “This one,” the inkling pointed at the door, at which point they stepped inside, immediately greeted by a noisy environment and the rich scent of cooking oil. Walking past several tables taken by other customers of various species, the two finally came to a rectangular table near the corner of the diner. An inkling in baggy clothes with a blotchy green right eye and a rather tall octoling wearing a shiny gold pin in their curly tentacles sat on one side of the table, both acknowledging Four’s and the soldier’s expected arrival as they sat down on the other side.

“Hiya!” Surume greeted loudly, to which the inkling lifted a silent and stiff palm, while the octoling returned a gentle smile and briefly waved.

Without skipping a beat, Surume began to introduce them on their behalf. “These are my friends! So, this is Eight,” Looking towards the soldier, Eight eyed the kelp decorations drifting lazily in the air before giving a second smaller wave in mild hesitation. “And this is Kaori.” The long-tentacled Kaori opted for a less conventional greeting, with a cold piercing stare as they met Cassandra’s eyes from across the table. Eyes that they would recognise anywhere.

“This is Cassandra. Say hi!”

Locking eyes with Kaori’s cold stare, the elite remained wordless as they continued to trade hostile glares. The bob-cut inkling shifted on the edge of her seat as their expressions soured, realising the tense air at the table. Hands began to curl into fists as things neared a boiling point.

“So - umm,” Eight laughed nervously as she twirled one of her tentacoils around her finger. “Have you - uh, have you made any friends so far?” Both cephalings ceased the staredown as Cassandra’s focus shifted to Eight, their hardened stares remaining as they avoided looking directly at each other. The elite stopped to choose her words as Surume shakily sipped on a glass of water.

“Su-rume is my… girl-friend?” The inkling in question spat out a mouthful of water with a cough at the response, while Kaori could only muster a bemused scoff, defused entirely.

“…What? She is a girl; she is friend?” Eight let out an audible giggle at the elite’s confused blinking. Leaning over the table, she whispered into Cassandra’s ear, who, after a moment of calculation, bubbled over as their face went pale. Surume laughed discreetly at the octoling’s flustered panic, mostly relieved that things didn’t escalate into a fistfight.

A brief exchange of small talk later, a small jelly wearing an apron approached the table, several of its many translucent tentacles holding up dishes that were gently placed in front of them one by one. As the others received their meals, Cassandra looked down at the deep plate placed in front of her, in its well a heap of cooked off-yellow noodle coated in a reddish cream and dotted with juicily large red fish eggs. The stunning abundance of her meal prompted the octo to stare at it blankly with a slight drool.

“Um, Cass? Helloooo? Anybody home?” An open hand was waved near their unresponsive face as the sentence fell on deaf ears. Lifting a fork buried under the fresh pasta, Cassandra pulled a large heap to her open mouth, the sauce dripping out messily as she slurped up the lengthy, continuous strands. The sight was reminiscent of a fly trapped in a spider’s web - if the web was yellow, covered in sauce and made of noodle.

A few sheets of paper tissue were handed towards the octoling by Surume as she was further tangled by her meal. “Cass, you’ve got some on -”

Eyes drawn to the hand near her food, she defensively snatched the bowl into her hands and away from the inkling’s reach with a hostile glare, proceeding to hastily shovel the spaghetti into her open maw. Slurping up the last of the cream from the plate, she slumped back into her chair, melting slightly with a satisfied sigh while the rest could only watch in varying degrees of concern.

“(Haven’t eaten like that in ages.)” she laughed, basking in the warm sensation of fullness as she cleaned off her fingers. The other three at the table continued to eat as she sat in stupor, less responsive than a rooted stone and somehow unaffected by indigestion.

“Oof. Full…” By the end of the meal, Surume had joined her in the post-meal daze, her upper body flopping around lazily on the table. Pushing aside an unfinished plate, Kaori put her studio headphones back on as Eight reached over to carefully wipe off a scrap of food from the inkling’s cheek. “Get a room, you lovesquids,” groaned Surume, clearly sick and tired of such common occurrences. The older inkling smugly lifted a backhanded peace sign as a response, spurring her to return the favour with an upturned middle finger.

Eight returned to her seat with a small laugh at the exchange. “(What you said earlier got me thinking, Cassandra,)” continued the well-spoken octoling, a finger pressed against her chin as her eyes rolled around in thought. “(Tell me, what’s going on down there? I thought DJ Octavio’s army officially dissolved a while back.)”

Cassandra’s eyes narrowed, suspicious of their bilingual fluency. “(You weren’t part of the army, were you?)” Eight sat upright with a sudden unshaken demeanour. “(I was. I left early.)” Looking around warily, Cassandra concluded it was safe to speak, leaning forwards with her arms pressed onto the table.

“(After the ’heavenly melody’, the army was put on high alert for defectors. Octavio’s generals ordered any potential deserters to be sent for reeducation. Morale plummeted, while soldiers fought each other as we held the fort.)” The elite turned to look out the window, her eye now focused on the orange hues of the unfamiliar evening sky as her tightened fist audibly tapped the tabletop. “(The bastard didn’t return. Without electricity or a head of command, things began to fall apart. The remaining military soon split off into small groups to take care of survivors.)”

“Oh - I see…” Eight’s stalwartness gave way to sympathy at the octoling’s recollection of the events.

A brief moment of sullen silence later, a loud beep rang out from Surume’s pocket, to which the inkling scrambled to snatch the slippery phone out of the air before jumping up from the table with equally spontaneous pep. “Oop, gotta go! See y’all later!” With a quick wave and wink, Surume scrambled out of the shop, while Cassandra quickly followed behind her, not wanting to be left behind.

Turning to face a stoic Kaori, Eight sighed wearily in her late realisation. “We didn’t call for the bill yet, did we?” The agent only shook their head.

…

“(I’m glad you were alright there, or else I’d have to beg Kaori to keep you around.)” Walking further down the path and away from the plaza, the two cephalings slowed their pace as they reached a small yet populated rail station. “(Alright,)” The agent turned to face the following octoling as they stood under the darkening sky. “(This is my stop!)” Cassandra raised an eyebrow at the sudden remark. “(You don’t stay here? I thought everyone lives here, in a city.)”

“(Nope! There’s more than one. I live about an hour out by train. Between that and college, I’m only free on weekends,)” Preceded by a light gust of wind, the night’s final train promptly arrived at the station behind Surume. “(But let’s catch up next weekend for more fun, yeah? Bye for now!)” With a cheery outstretched wave, the inkling rushed past the closing doors, dissolving into the crowd of passengers. Cassandra remained standing in the night, replying with a small wave as the inkling departed along the rails.

Cassandra’s mind began to wander about Surume. The inkling did not show any hesitance, fear or aggression towards her unlike others, and was readily willing to treat her as an equal. Was she a naive fool, or was she just being friendly?

“(…What a strange Inkling.)”

Chapter 5: Chapter 5 - Crash Bunker

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 - Crash Bunker
‘I remember getting a surprise visit on holiday weekends.’

In the privacy of her apartment, Cassandra paced around aimlessly. It had been two whole weeks or more since she ended up on the surface, giving her plenty of time to practice her Inklish in a rough-edged manner and participate in turf wars for a living. Good progress so far. Now for the next step….

As she remained deep in thought, the apartment door behind her swung open squeakily with a quick turn of the doorknob. “Hiya, Cassie!”

Spooked by the sudden action, the distracted octoling turned around to face the open entrance. An energetic waving hand stuck out from behind the doorway before the inkling casually stepped into the dim room.

The elite remained on guard, startled by Surume’s sudden presence. “Gah! sh*t! What are you doing?”

Surume dropped off a weighty duffel bag from her shoulders onto the floor as she curiously explored the apartment. “I thought I’d check out your place for a bit.” The nonchalant response only narrowed Cassandra’s eyes, their violet eye markings further pronouncing their suspicion.

“How’d you get in here, smartass?”

Surume revealed a set of keys that dangled from her fingers. “Marie passed me a duplicate set of keys and asked me to keep an eye on you,” She effortlessly twirled the set of keys around her index finger, before securing them in her grasp. “But I could do that without these anyways.” Cassandra let out a deep groan of exasperation at the smugness of her answer. Looks like her base isn’t so private after all.

Tossing herself onto the bottom bunk bed, the inkling sat up with an innocent giggle. “Anyways, I’m gonna crash here for the splatfest this weekend! I told my parents that your place is close to town, so I can stay overnight.”

“Like hell you are!” Cassandra snarled.

“Your door didn’t stop me.”

Cassandra folded her arms as she looked at Surume, certainly unimpressed with her shamelessness. If she couldn’t stop her from staying over, she could at least stare at her judgementally. “Do all you squids barge into people’s homes like that?” The inkling retained her cheeky smile, completely unfazed by the implied legal concerns. “No, it’s just me.”

After agreeing on some boundaries such as ‘No shoes inside’ and ‘Don’t snoop around my stuff’ and ‘No, you can’t touch me in my sleep’, Surume made herself comfortable atop the upper bunk bed whilst lazily scrolling the internet, whereas Cassandra kept busy by writing into a notebook throughout the rest of the evening. The ambience remained undisturbed by either of the cephalings as the night rolled in with darkening skies.

Swapping out her down jacket and jeans for a baggy white cotton shirt and loose yellow shorts, the inkling flopped around playfully on the bottom bunk bed. “Your bed’s soo much softer!” she laughed, sprawling out onto the messy sheets. The octoling silently kept reading as she straddled a chair with her arms upon the backrest. She took a quick, expressionless glance at Surume’s antics before returning her attention to the held book.

The sudden reclusion and lack of proud headiness was unusual, especially for the likes of the vocal and proud elite. Surume continued to fool around the bedding without a care, much to their annoyance.
Pushing the open book down into the table by its spine, Cassandra pressed a few fingers against her temple as she gave the inkling a tense glare. “You wanna know what’s f*ckin’ bothering me? The fact that I’m in a room. Alone with a squid. Whose job is splatting my kind.”

Sitting up from the bed and crossing her legs, Surume offered an apologetic cheerful smile to the stressed octoling. “Hey, I’m not Agent 3! I’m not gonna splat octos off the job.”

Cassandra leaned back, remaining tense despite the honesty. “Mm. Agent 3, though?”

“Of course you’d want to know about her,” the inkling rolled their eyes. “The legend of Octo Canyon. Defeated the first octarian uprising by herself, saved Eight from the metro. Probably saves the world repeatedly behind our backs,” Surume looked away with a sigh as she continued to describe the senior agent. “She’s skilled with every weapon she touches. Loved or respected by everyone she meets. She’s better than most inklings could dream of, while also being the octarians’ greatest nightmare.” She shook her head with a pained chuckle. “It’s funny how different she is compared to me.”

It wasn’t a good rest, but it was rest nonetheless. As she pushed herself off the bed, her hand pressed onto her pillow, where it touched the soaked fabric. The cool and damp sensation incited her memory, with it the just-had dream that had tormented her with the fond memories of her past.

A cup of warm tea laid on the nightstand beside her, its vapours made visible by the morning light as it flickered in the changing drafts.

Chapter 6: Chapter 6 - Moving Up...

Chapter Text

Moving along the sleepy and thawing plaza in a certain direction, Cassandra scanned the area as the snails clacked like hard chalk against each other’s shells in her hands. '(Pssh, As if Some Big Spiky Urchin Dude would really be named something as obvious as Spyke. Whatever…)’

Walking further into an offshoot alley, the plaza’s sparse chatter grew distant as she made towards a frosted glass door. Pushing the door open with her shoulder, the octoling stepped into a brightly lit cafe of white walls and oak-wood decor, its warm air permeated by the scent of fresh coffee. Her arrival was announced by a chiming bell fixed to the doorframe, turning heads and eyes at the sudden noise in the otherwise quiet store.

After a brief moment of curiosity, most of the varied customers returned to their devices, save for a few thorny individuals scattered around the place, who covertly continued to watch from their peripherals, tracking her - or rather, what she was holding - as they quietly observed from a distance.

Cassandra noticed the attentiveness from the many urchins in the cafe, their unblinking eyes watching the shells in her hand with razor sharp attention from multiple angles. She began to tread lightly across the cafe with a clenched jaw, the softwood panels under her feet giving out a little squeak with each step. She could sense their stares as they followed, like she was traced by several lasers pointed directly at her.

Unnerved but not paralysed, Cassandra continued searching the cafe despite the rather vague pointers given to her, eager to offload the bulky sea snails. Next to the window overlooking the plaza sat one of said Big Spiky Urchin Dudes, dressed in a black and white patterned poncho. With a head almost completely hidden under an impressive array of spikes, his slender hands floated weightlessly along the laptop keyboard, seemingly too busy to be aware of her. Would be a good place to start asking for this Spyke.

Walking up to the urchin to make her presence known, the urchin minutely lifted his thorn-covered head, now staring straight into the glass in front of him. The only visible slit of his face could be seen in the reflection.

“Oy. Wot business do you have?” His voice kept a low, wispy yet clear pitch.

“You’re Spyke?” Her tone subconsciously matched his, either out of formality or a similar wariness.

“So you’ve found me, mate. What now?” A watchful stare relayed from the tinted glass belied his lazy and unbothered tone.

“I was told you were in the market for these.” Cassandra lifted up the sea snails in her arms, which only seemed to shiver in dread in his direct presence.

Turning away from the laptop to face her directly, he unfurled an arm towards her with an upturned open palm. Spyke’s stare shifted down from her face to the quivering sea snails, which froze under his cold stare. “Lemme have a looksee.”

Picking the one from the top of the pile, Cassandra entertained the request, placing it in Spyke’s grasp. Lifting the snail with mild heft, he then quietly brought it up to meet him eye-to-eye, where it violently trembled like it was going to burst out of its shell. Following this, he brought it close to his head as he playfully flicked its shell with his fingers, followed by other unusual and random inspections conducted with great care and deliberation.

Placing the rattled, worn-out sea snail right next to his laptop on the countertop, he gave it a satisfied look before returning to business with Cassandra. “Oy. How many more’ve you got there?”
“Six total. Including the one there.” Cassandra pointed with her eyes to the one now beside him, with a quick glancing recount at the five left in her arms, all of which were left terror-stricken as they wished not a similar fate.

“I’ll take the lot.”

“For what price?” questioned Cassandra, her eyes narrowing into a cautious, suspenseful squint. She knew better than to agree so soon.

Looking up as if carelessly pondering, Spyke’s eyes darted around the cafe for a brief moment before looking back down to meet the octoling’s stare.

“Hmm… Hundred an’ eighty thousand Geso.” As he gave the price, some faint shuffling and murmuring could be heard throughout the seats behind her. Looks like they weren’t the only ones in the conversation.

Leaning back in consideration, Cassandra ran the numbers through her mind as her eyes floated about. ‘(That’s a rich fish kind of price alright. That’s like - what, ninety turf wars?)’ Her eyes widened as the realisation and shock settled in clearly. Ninety whole turf wars - that’s equal to three turf wars a day for a whole month, and that’s nearly twice her rent for the month. Not to mention the amount of food she could buy with that cash…

Snapping out of her starry-eyed fantasising for a moment, Cassandra leaned forwards once more, pulling her drifting tentacles back into place. “Hold it. Deal?” Spyke gave a friendly chuckle with a smirk.

“Deal. Don’t go and spend it all in one place, mate.”

With the transaction’s approval, the sea snails were consigned to their fate as she received the promised payment in exchange, the sum of it carefully counted out in front of her eyes from the urchin’s pockets and into a small beige drawstring pouch. With a quick nod, the octoling hurriedly made her way out of the cafe with the money held tight to her chest, leaving Spyke to the company of the six ill-fated snails, which rattled under his gaze as they huddled together next to his laptop.

Turning back to the keyboard, Spyke gave the transaction one last mental review as he observed the rest around him pretending like it never happened, the sight bringing a smirk to his face.

‘Definitely on the pricey side, that bid. But if’t meant shutting up the rest of the competition here? It’s well worth the price.’

Outside in the plaza, Cassandra bumped into a most familiar face. Or rather, the familiar face snuck up behind her and jumped her with a running grab to the shoulder.

Reflexively turning at the sudden contact with a fierce glare, Cassandra dropped her tensed shoulders at the stranger’s identity with an audible groan.

Dressed in a white drive tee and some frayed-cut jeans, the cheeky inkling patted her on the shoulder with a smug, satisfied grin. “Heh. Thought I could scare you.” The octoling could only reply with a miffed huff as Surume bobbed about thoughtlessly around her. “Anyways, what’d you want to meet for? Don’t you got school or something like that?”

“They give a day off after splatfests. I was planning to check out the spring selection,” Surume’s radiant smile was quickly replaced by a look of surprise, just noticing the lack of sea snails in Cassandra’s arms. “Oh, did you get your cash?”

Cassandra glanced downwards as she patted down her frayed sweater, checking that the Geso was still safe in the hidden pouch. “Yeah, shiny stuff. What about it?”

“Alright! Let’s get you decked out too! I wanna get a new long-sleeve, some orange hats, maybe some shoes…” Rambling on, the inkling excitedly and exaggeratively marched along towards an end of the plaza, eagerly expecting them to follow. Admittedly, the definition of ‘decked out’ was lost on the elite, but she found it hard to deny Surume’s enthusiasm.

Following behind Surume’s lead, the two looked through the stores along the upper level of Arowana Mall, a rather popular place to hang out (when it wasn’t flooded with ink in the midst of turf wars). They slipped aside into a populated store, where an assortment of colourful clothing and attire were displayed upon racks and shelves under bright lights. Many other cephalings could be seen between the clothes racks, also interested in the wares offered.

As Surume browsed the store’s contents, Cassandra hung around behind her, scanning the brightly-lit surroundings. The rather pretty and fashionable outfits on display had piqued Cassandra’s curiosity and interest, having spotted a few other inklings and octolings wearing similar fashions throughout the store.

Resisting the urge to follow her own curiosity, she sat down on a cushion nearby with clenched hands on her lap in an effort to stop her mind from wandering. She didn’t need such luxuries beforehand to live, anyways. It was all an Inkling extreme. To her, clothes were simply clothes, to keep oneself warm and protected, nothing more. Her worn-out outfit did make her seem a bit out of place, but that wasn’t a problem, right?

‘(Come on, me! You’re better than this! Don’t just let yourself go because you’ve been stuck up here for a few weeks!)’

Coming back with a small pile of chosen articles draped over her folded arm, Surume noticed the octoling who was curiously staring about just moments beforehand now quietly in place with their eyes shut tight as they tried to drown out their obviously growing interest.

The inkling tapped Cassandra on the shoulder, wearing a puzzled expression and tilting her head slightly as she did so. “Aren’t you gonna get some clothes too?” Surume chirped.

Cassandra coughed as she broke away from Surume’s confused stare, looking for any reason to say no as she struggled to not give in. “I don’t need it. My clothes will be fine.” Surume’s lips pursed together as she squinted, a ploy beginning to form in her mind.

“Aww, come on. Don’t you want to look cool, better than us Inklings? Also, I’m pretty sure you’ve been wearing the same old ink-stained hoodie for a few weeks now. I would be lying if I said you didn’t reek right now.” Something about the words pierced straight through Cassandra’s prideful defences, soon causing her to give in and stand up, much to Surume’s delight.

“Y’know what? Fair.” There was no further acknowledgement as to which statement Cassandra was answering to.

Having picked out some outfits that caught her eye to try on, Cassandra walked into a changing room while Surume continued to browse about the store. Before long, the octoling had returned to double-check an outfit with her.

“Hey, Surume, check this out. What do you think ‘a this!?” Now, picture this for a moment, if you will, a black wool bobble hat. Rather normal, socially acceptable, right? All right, now picture someone wearing said black bobble hat, as well as a ghillie suit made of seaweed and a pair of red rubber rain boots. That was the exact outfit Cassandra had shown to Surume, her chest puffed out in pride as she wore a proud smirk and pointed a thumb towards herself.

“Huh? Oh-PFFFFT.” The agent almost fell over at the sheer sight standing in front of her, filling the area with a howling shriek of a laugh as the octoling began to sweat and cringe. Unfortunately for Cassandra, it would be an understatement to say that the outfit didn’t look as cool as she had thought. “Wh-What? It has good stats!” The reason could only fall flat in front of the unresponsive agent.

“Oh - wait - lemmecatchmybreath — *wheeze* Oooh, ha, *cough* aahhahhahaha,” Surume wiped the tears from her eyes as she took another look at the ridiculed octoling, before breaking down again as she shakily pointed her handphone’s camera at the elite. “W-wet beast,, ooohoohoo - *snort* what? Yeahno, I’ontthinkthey - they’d even let you play with that fit,” wheezed Surume with the little breath she had left whilst using a hand to muffle her laughter.

“Whadd’ya mean!?” exclaimed Cassandra as she flapped her arms around, thoroughly insulted by Surume’s unceasing laughter. Unfortunately for her, the unceremonial wet slapping noises of the moist algae ghillie suit only further sent Surume into a spiral of breathless cackling, giving Cassandra plenty more time to bask in the death of her own ego.

After a fair bit of trial-and-error and some much-needed guidance from the much more stylish Surume, Cassandra managed to settle upon some much more acceptably fashionable clothing, most notably a fresh pair of hi-tops and a black leather jacket that she picked out herself, besides several sets of t-shirts and pants for day-to-day use. Surume, on the other hand, bought one of just about everything that was new in the store, which amounted to roughly five bags of clothing and several boxes, each filled to the brim. The sight deeply perplexed the octoling, maybe even disturbing her a little as she proceeded to mentally shove the occurrence aside as another Inkling thing.

Leaving the store while carrying their purchases in tow, the two continued along the mall. Surume turned to face a disgraced and frankly embarrassed Cassandra, their tentacles curled tight as they remained busy cringing internally.

“Oooh, now that you have some extra spending cash, you could probably get some gear, too! Like - ooh! Maybe your own Hydra?” Forgetting her shame at the drop of a hat, Cassandra’s eyes lit up at the exciting suggestion, immediately invested with the idea.

The majority of the remaining day was spent much like her funds - at the many other stores around the mall and plaza. The two eventually parted ways, at the station outside the plaza once more. Surume jumped onto the last train home with a hearty wave, chasing the setting sun by the railway as dusk fell to night.

Despite keeping a close eye on her expenditure, the pouch hidden in Cassandra’s sweater felt rather light now, to which she gave a light sigh of wry dryness as she shook it about. '(What an enabler.)'
The octoling looked down to her left, where a bag of new clothes was held aloft. While giving in so easily to her curiosity and desires definitely raked at the back of her mind, especially for someone of her background, she couldn’t help but see it as a guilty pleasure.

'(Just a couple won’t hurt while I’m up here.)'

Feeling a vibration from inside her sweater, she stuck her free hand inside the woolly pocket and rummaged about, pulling out a reflective jet black screen that lit up to display a received message. '(Ah, right. This dinkadonk costed like, half of my money,)' she thought to herself, slowly reading the text displayed on the cold screen. '(She said it was a smart phone - that I could contact people like a normal phone, but I can look stuff up on it?)'

'(Eh, I’ll figure it out at home. Good intel tool though.)' Stuffing the smartphone back into her sweater pocket with a shrug, she made her way back to the apartment for the night, with new clothes and a Hydra slung over her shoulder to call her own.

Chapter 7: Chapter 7 - ...The Ladder

Chapter Text

Chapter 7 - …The Ladder
‘I remember meeting my competitive teammates.’

Another day, another several turf wars. The black tinted doors of Deca Tower slid open as a crowd of inklings and octolings left the lobby, many of them splitting off in several directions as they figured out what to do with the rest of their evenings. Sticking out from atop the crowd was a floaty pair of marsh-green kelp attached to the dark-tentacled Cassandra, who was rather preoccupied with a small white card held in her gloved hand as she walked out into the open-air plaza. Her other hand gently pulled on the strap of her splatling’s holster, which pressed into her white tee as her shoulder and chest carried the Hydra’s weight behind her.

Pulling her eyes away from the blank card, she stopped in place to collect her thoughts and stay on track. Was she doing this for the cash, like she had told herself so earlier - or was it really for the sake of her own ego? Both? Both. Both is good. Climbing up the ranks is something she’s all too familiar with, and if she could do it once, she could do it again here.

Feeling a buzz in her back pocket, she pulled out her smartphone and tilted it to her face to respond to the notification. Her shaded eyes scrolled across the screen as the text appeared in the messaging app, read slowly with her limited literacy in Inklish as she tapped out a response.

Contact: Are you around now?
Cassandra: yes

Cassandra looked up from her phone’s already-scratched screen as she sent the reply, her eyes sifting through the sparse crowd as she waited in place to meet with the contact. She had curiously put in an application a few days before just for sh*ts and giggles, but she might as well see it through now.

Soon enough, a figure drew out from the sidelines, their eyes meeting Cassandra’s shades from under the shade of a green camo-patterned cap as they walked towards her with a phone in hand.
“…Are you Cassandra?” The words were of a polite tone, despite being reluctantly said by a soft-spoken and somewhat deadpan voice.

The contact’s face was almost completely concealed, save for their eyes. Their face’s upper half was covered by the cap’s shade, whereas the collar of their green mountain hiking jacket hid their neck and mouth. Two long straight bangs hung to about their elbows, serving as the only proof that they were an inkling besides the conjoined eye masking.

Cassandra stood tall and firm, turning to face the shaded contact with formality. “Yup.” The inkling tucked their dark brown hands into the jacket’s pockets as they gave a silent nod of affirmation.

“…Come with me.”

Following behind the inkling, they walked off towards a secluded wall of the plaza away from the evening crowd. Two other inkfish awaited them in the hidden pocket, their voices heard from a short distance as they drew near.

“Y’know, I wonder what she’s like,” one of them excitedly rambled. “What if she was a small girl with a big gun - wouldn’t that be funny?”

“Shut your dumb mouth,” The older one grumbled, tapping the smaller inkling’s shins with their moccasins. “‘Cause it looks like we don’t have to wonder anymore.” Both of the inklings turned to look at Cassandra, who now stood in front of them.

The shorter of the two inklings had his loose tentacles tied into a topknot upon his head as he wore a red-white varsity jacket and white sandals, paired with a large set of snorkelling goggles pulled over his four-pointed-star-shaped pupils and sandy complexion. While it did look rather comical, his confidence compensated for it well as he wore it with pride.

“Oh! Introductions, yeah?” The peppy inkling launched himself off the wall, dashing right up to the octoling before greeting them with a quick salute and a big, freckled grin. “Hey, I’m Penguin! Let’s get to know each other better soon, yeah?” The high-strung enthusiasm was a bit much, and it certainly reminded her of another inkling she knew, though even more overpowering.

Turning over to the side, Penguin pointed over towards the capped inkling in green, who was now standing near the wall. “That’s Sundew, she’s the one that brought you here.” Responding to her name, Sundew pushed the brim of her cap upwards slightly with an index finger, clearly showing her mahogany-maroon irises. “…Yo. Nice to meet you.”

The stern and stiff inkling beside him pushed up a pair of small, frameless onyx glasses. Straightening out his green military coat and the tie underneath it as he got up from leaning against the wall, he towered a whole head over Cassandra with a cold, curt demeanour and condescending stare. “Wister, leader of Team Voyager. Don’t let us down.” Cassandra only replied with a solid, hardened stare of her own to match his intimidation as they stood each other down. Noticing she was unshaken by the display, Wister impassively turned aside, almost as if she had passed some kind of trial.

Before long, the restless Penguin butted in, eager to learn about the octoling. “Oh, what’s your name?” The elite relaxed slightly at Penguin’s friendly and unassuming voice, turning to look at him.

“…Eh. Just call me Cass.”

“Alright! Cass, yeah? Yeah!” Penguin leapt forwards to give her a rather loud slap on the back in his frenetics, blissfully unaware of the differences in culture between them. Not exactly rude, but definitely a little insensitive from his own eagerness (In all fairness, she would normally do something similar if she knew them better).

Turning to face Cass again, Wister’s eyes rolled down to the almost pristine Hydra slung over her shoulder as he spoke in a gruff tone. “We’ll run you by the gamemodes later. What’s more important to me right now is how you perform.”

Inside Ammo Knight’s sunset-drenched firing range, the three Voyager members sat about the door idly as the elite unpacked the splatling from its bag and took it into their hands. “Let’s see what you got,” grumbled Wister as he folded his arms. “14 in one tank ‘s the record.”

“Sure,” Cassandra shifted her grip on the weighty steel in her hands, eager to crush the record into fine dust. “That’s about to change.”

With the range covered in ink and the last of the ink droplets out of the splatling’s three barrels, Cass wiped a droplet of sweat off her brow as she walked back up to the entryway where they sat. “How was that!?” She boasted, certain of her achievement.

Wister remained stoic as he checked through his clipboard of notes. “15. Pretty alright, for a Hydra. Not too sure about splatting that last target by bashing into them with your splatling, though. Pretty sure that’s illegal.”

Sundew turned her head to speak to Cass as she continued to lean against the wall. “Your mechanical skills are pretty nice, style’s a bit… violent… but you’re not that familiar with the game formats? Do you know how to play Zones?” Cass gave a co*cky chuckle and an arrogant grin, the term exiting her head as quickly as it entered. “Zones? I just shoot whoever moves.”

With a huff of contemplation, Wister ran his dusky, graphite-like hand through his combover cut before walking towards the door. “Maybe not, then.”

Penguin fiercely grabbed onto the captain’s arm, stopping him dead in his tracks before he could leave. “Oi! Give’er a chance! Voyager’s not gonna get anywhere if we’re just gonna keep looking for someone who might as well not show up at this rate!”

Sundew remained against the wall, not intending to go anywhere just yet as well. “P’s got a point.” With a deep sigh towards his teammates’ objections, he turned around to properly meet Cassandra eye-to-eye.

“Fine. Welcome aboard.”

Now exiting the storefront, Cassandra walked beside her now-teammates as the three of them busily discussed between themselves about what’s next to come. As they continued to chatter, she couldn’t help but smirk a little as she paced alongside them. “(Heh. Guess I’ll see where this goes.)”

“Ah!” Penguin exclaimed with eyes that gleamed straight through his tinted scuba goggles. “How’s about we go and eat somewhere nice? Since we have a fourth now!” The octoling turned her head, awoken by the suggestion of a meal. “Food? Food.”

Following a brief walk to the plaza’s outskirts, the four of them stood outside the Krillhouse, a rickety corner shop of foreign design unlike its neighbours, its frame squashed as it shared half a lot with an open alleyway. Built of concrete but with windows and doors that resemble wood, the restaurant’s exterior showed signs of age in the forms of scarring, weathered segments and chipped paint. A warm yellow light could be felt from behind the entryway’s stained plastic curtain as they stood under yellow paper lanterns.

Stepping inside past the plastic flaps, the team was greeted by a small, narrow interior, its red accents lit by dusky fluorescent bulbs yellowed from age. The kitchen took up about half of the already small space, with chairs of plastic and bent metal littered around in every other nook and cranny.

The kitchen itself was manned by a hulking spiny lobster, themselves almost too big for the space. With a shell and thorns coloured jet black with specks of maroon, the chef’s claws were cooked a bright white and red from constantly being near heat as they rapidly worked. It seemed as if they couldn’t even leave the kitchen without scraping their spiky shell on the ceiling, having to hunch over to do so. ‘Ah Ong’ was his name, or at least roughly so, when Penguin energetically greeted him from afar in a different tongue.

Finding a seat took a while despite chairs being packed into nearly every available space, but soon enough did they find themselves hurriedly crammed into a corner table by one of the smaller shopkeepers as they recognised the snorkel-wearing inkling.

“This place’s food is pretty cheap, which means we can eat tons here!” Penguin boldly proclaimed, his outstretched knuckle colliding straight into Wister’s cheek. Said inkling was unbothered as he readjusted his tinted glasses, busily flipping through the menu as he rapidly verified the claim before closing it shut. “Sounds good.”

Leaving the ordering to Penguin as they spoke in an unfamiliar dialect, a mountainous pile of grilled meat, fried seafood and hard-boiled eggs on wooden skewers was soon placed atop the centre of their table, served alongside a cloying helping of chilli sauce and sweet gravy. The decadent smell of grease somewhat sickened Cassandra, but it wasn’t entirely off-putting, either.

'(What exactly is this?)'

Pulling out a skewer of indistinguishable grilled meat from the pile by chance, Cass curiously placed the meat in her mouth with little resistance, much unlike her usual cautious disposition. Food is an exception in her books, after all.

'(…there’s fish in here.)'

Recognising the familiar taste of salmon through the other overpowering flavours present, she sank her serrated, shark-like beak into the skewered fish, ripping the stick clean in a single fluid motion.

When she reached out to grab another skewer from the middle, she looked up to see that the others at the table weren’t eating - rather, their eyes were attentively focused on her. Except for Penguin, who was more in awe than anything else.

“Whoa-ho-ho! Those are some shark teeth you got there!” wildly exclaimed a thrilled Penguin from behind a mouthful of food.

“…I was about to say that.”

Well, sh*t. Definitely shouldn’t have shown that around here.

Cass hid her beak at the comments, carefully chewing with her mouth closed as she was suddenly made conscious of her misshapen beak.

“Oh. That ain’t normal?”

“…No? …I just think they’re neat.” Cass felt an odd but most welcome sense of relief at the unsuspecting statement. She continued to chew with her mouth closed for the rest of the meal, however.

The team remained at the table even after the meal had been finished, themselves sipping away at cups of tea. By now, the restaurant had seen off most of the dinner crowd, leaving the venue to a quiet remainder of the night.

Cass twirled a cleaned skewer in her fingers as she sat in place, focused on the spinning motion.

“So, Team Voyager’s a… single-class kinda thing?”

“Yup! So I’m the Heavy Splatling,” chirped Penguin, before looking directly in front of him and across the table. “Sundew’s the Ballpoint, and Boss is the Nautilus,” Penguin turned to Cass again with a bright, beaky grin. “And that’s where you come in! As our Hydra!”

“We’re here to prove a point. That it’s more than just a meme or a joke,” Wister gradually lifted his hand with his palm facing the table, as if measuring the height of an invisible object. “The higher our rank, the better.”

Sundew let out a weighty sigh of disappointment, lifting her head from her hands, the irregular pale blotches across her dark brown skin now clearly visible. “We’re B-rank now… but we’ll get back to our former glory. Eventually.”

Pushing aside an empty third glass with the back of his hand, the leader looked up at the rest as a different thought crossed his mind. “Right. We should get her an alias.”

The snorkel-goggles wearing Penguin wiped off some grease from his mouth as he leaned back. “Aye! But, uh, what do you got, Boss?”

“Nothing. Sundew?” The inkling drew a long sip from a hot glass of tea, placing it softly and soundlessly on the table with her sleeve-covered palms before speaking.

“How about… Nessie?” The three Voyagers turned their focus to Cass, who sat there idly with her cheek rested on her palm as she returned their glances from behind her circular shades.

“Eh, if I need one.”

“Well, that settles that.”

Having spent a bit more time discussing a schedule for training sessions, the four of them decided to leave the place and trade contacts before parting ways, urged on by the clock as it continued to venture further into the night.

Shaking her head to dispel the invasive thoughts, the octoling gently brushed at the kelp tied to her tentacles, seeking to remind herself of who she was. A leader; someone who bears obligation and responsibility.

The thoughts piled upon her conscience like sand flowing down an hourglass, growing more unbearable with each passing day.

Driven by such internal conflict, a resolute decision was made.

Chapter 8: Chapter 8 - Showdown

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 - Showdown
‘I remember challenging the legendary agent.’

Seated around a metal table outside the Crust Bucket, the three agents hung about idly. Having little left to be caught up on, they silently enjoyed the temperate spring’s breeze as they awaited their last member for a turf war session.

Eight pressed her arms onto the table as she looked towards Surume, who was seated across the table, sipping from a straw as they absentmindedly swung their legs back and forth.

“You’ve been watching her, right? How has she been?” asked Eight curiously. Removing the half-chewed straw from her mouth, the Annaki-wearing inkling replied with a wide, ecstatic smile.

“She’s been real good at taking to the surface!” boasted Surume, proud of her own guidance. “She’s even gone and joined a team recently on her own. Hey, remember when you had your first splatfest?” Eight laughed giddily at the tangential recollection.

Cassandra was taking well to the surface. A little too well, in fact. Kaori could feel that something was amiss: how likely would an elite of Octavio’s army, with their utmost loyalty to the Octarians, be so eager and willing to conform to Inkling culture? Answer: not likely. The battle-worn inkling kept the suspicions to herself, quietly awaiting their arrival as the other two agents continued to ramble on with small talk.

As expected, the elite octoling soon showed up before the rest of them, dressed in a similar simple casual fashion as she stood at the table.

“So, we’re all here, huh…” Cassandra quietly mused. “And the ‘legendary hero’ of Octo Valley.”

The elite spoke not another word in their presence as an unyielding pressure grew thick in the air like haze. Kaori gave the octoling a simple and perceptive glance like always.

A deathly glare was given in return.

“Hey, Cassie!” Surume lightheartedly quipped. “You don’t need to be so parano-”

Surume’s reassurance was silenced by a fierce slam as the elite threw their hands down onto the table.

A low growl could be heard from under bared teeth, fangs sharpened and plentiful like knives glinting in the dark.

“My people have a score to settle with you.”

Hatred bled from each of her words as a latent rage consumed her.

“I’ve watched you bring entire domes to their knees piece by piece,” Cassandra snapped. “Did you think you could just walk away with your bloodied hands?”

The long-tentacled inkling wordlessly gave a chilling side stare, not a single sign of fear or remorse behind their eyes.

Cassandra felt sick. Disgusted by their silent apathy. Not even a word, for what had been done? She wanted to tear the agent to shreds; to make them plead to their crimes with her own hands.

“Let’s settle this.”

To attack her now would be cathartic. Everything she wanted and more. But she’d be stopped from finishing what was started, by the others around them.

“One-on-one splatmatch. First to three.” No more, no less needed.

“On one condition,” Kaori spoke calmly as she turned to face the livid octoling directly, unwilling to back down. “Lose, and you won’t be able to return to the domes. Not with what you know. Try to leave, and I will find you myself. Deal?”

“Tch. We’ll see.” With a turn of the heel, Cassandra walked away in chilling silence as she left to prepare.

‘Why do they need to fight?’ Eight herself already knew the answer, but she didn’t want to say it; for it reminded her of too much, that she knew too little. A conflict of ideals. She had come this far from it, only to see the two sides she belonged to tear each other to pieces again, like nothing had ever changed. ‘It’s already happened. It’s all already over.’
'Why must it end like this?’

Before long, Cassandra and Kaori rose out of the ink, standing to face each other from opposite ends.

Seething,

Hatred.

A wretched scream of agony and wrath rang out as she lifted her head towards the open sky.

‘sh*t!’

Keeping the new observation in mind, the agent swam towards the centre before encircling the area with painted turf, making no clear attempt to fight as she dodged high-pressure volleys while covering more ground. Soon enough was the entirety of the centre surrounded by green ink, leaving

With a slight hesitation, the octoling’s hand forcefully met the inkling’s in a firm grasp, locked stiff by her bitter emotions. One last dissatisfied huff could be heard as the two shook hands, neither of the two wanting anything to do with each other as they looked to opposite sides. With the final complaint and agreement, the deal finally came to a close, with it Cassandra’s foreseeable future.

Would she really have succeeded if things were different? Perhaps it was a futile gambit that would have ended the same no matter what. It felt as if she was given a chance to redeem herself, only that redemption was impossible due to things beyond her control, and now, she was to be thrown aside like a used doll, given nothing but sympathetic condolences for her nulled efforts.

Somewhere, the thousand-fold roots still inched deeper through the rock; spring buds would still bloom with or without her looking. Time would still pass, inexorable as it is.

Chapter 9: Story Snippets I - Acquaintances and Friends

Chapter Text

Chapter 8.5 - Mini-chapters I - Acquaintances and Friends

Popsicles (Surume, Cass)

“Oi. What’cha got there?”

Seated on a rooftop park’s bench, the inkling tipped her head over back to find a black-tentacled octoling looming behind her right, themselves eyeing back curiously with their pupils, one side black and peanut-shaped and the other scarred grey and permanently dilated as they leaned onto the bench’s backrest. Surume’s short orange tentacles and fringe hung loosely in the air, pulled down by gravity as she gave the octoling’s unusually casual demeanour a blank stare of puzzlement.

“Aren’t you supposed to be, like, sulking, or - uh - being moody or something?”

“Well,” Cassandra gave an exaggerated shrug as she casually adjusted the kelp in her tentacles. “I’m officially stuck up here now. Might as well make the most of it.”

Surume continued to blink at Cassandra for a moment, before replying with a small head tilt and returning to staring out into the distance. “Oh. Cool beans.” The change was not entirely unwelcome, she supposed.

Spurred by a moment of silence, Cassandra’s eyes were driven towards a half-eaten stick of colours in Surume’s hand. It looked like food, though it seemed almost too colourful to be safe to eat.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, this? It’s a popsicle.”

Cassandra unfurled her arm over the bench, lowering an open palm with a small fanning motion.

“Gimme a bite.”

“Well, I was gonna eat the other one as well, but you can have it.” Cleaning off the half-eaten popsicle in a single sitting, Surume unwrapped another one from its plastic packaging and handed it to the elite, rewarding their curiosity.

A closer inspection revealed that it was made of coloured ice, moulded in the image of a squid and frozen to a wooden stick as a saccharine scent wafted from the melted runoff. ‘Couldn’t be that bad, right?’ pondered Cassandra, who thoughtlessly bit down on the colourful, sugary treat.

Ice is, among other things, sometimes described as ‘somewhat cold’. Cassandra would soon agree with this statement.

“What do you think, Cassie?”

Cassandra was frozen stiff, even more so in the literal sense than the figurative. Perhaps she had just come across a stunning epiphany, or that her head went numb from the cold, or that she just had the stunning epiphany that her head went numb from the cold.

“Cassie?”

Backstage Meeting (OTH, Eight, Cass)

Led deep into a hallway past a half-built venue in the midst of preparations, Cassandra trailed behind Eight, who was preoccupied with finding a specific door out of the many around them. It didn’t take long, themselves soon in front of a door painted in equal parts seafoam green and pink.
With the small rattle from the doorknob, the door swung open gently, revealing a brightly lit interior as the agent peeked into the room with her pink, curled tentacles. A joyful squee could be heard from within.

“Eight!” “Yo, Eight!” The agent stepped into the backstage room with a smile, welcomed by the melodic and booming voices as they excitedly exchanged further pleasantries. As the greetings died down, the idols’ eyes shifted to the other slightly smaller figure near the door, her presence pointed out by the white-and-pink idol as they spoke up with a rambunctious voice.
“Ay yo. Who’s this gal with the floaty kelp?”

“Ah, she’s one of my friends. Cassandra, meet Pearl and Marina! You’ve seen them before right?” Cassandra gave a brisk nod, eliciting an energetic pose and a broad grin from the crown-wearing Pearl. Marina gave a small wave as she eyed their kelp-wreathed black tentacles and horizontal-slit pupil with cautious uncertainty. It resembled her own, distant yet similar like an archaic memory that reeked of scorched metal and damp moss. She discreetly looked towards Eight with a look of worry, soothed by their reply of a trusting, knowing nod.

Before long, the two were seated with the idols at a small desk in conversation, though most of the lively conversation was between Eight and Off the Hook while Cassandra quietly listened to the idol pair ramble on about small talk.

“…And that’s how I broke an entire neighbourhood’s windows with one ice cream truck!”

“Um, Pearlie, weren’t you at least asked to apologise or like, do community service?”

“Nah, I was covered by the trust fund, like usual. Booyah!” Ah yes, degrees of wealth that was of envy to many and unfathomable to most.

Taking the gap in the conversation, Eight got up from the leather cushioned chair and went to the door. “I’ll go to the washroom real quick. Be right back!” As the agent slipped past the door, the room quickly fell silent, both parties having lost their mutual connection as they idled in wait.
A small huff broke the awkward silence as the previously disinterested Cassandra leaned forwards, suddenly focused in Eight’s absence.

“(…Iida. Been doing well?)”

Marina flinched and recoiled, reacting to the sudden interrogation. All she knew of them was their name and face, but they already proved that they knew more about her than most.

“…Uh - u-um,” The octoling’s tentacles held themselves close as she began to fidget in place, nervously keeping her lips sealed as she looked away. It terrified her, the thought of the past returning, armed with a vengeance, staring into her with an intimidating half-narrowed-half-dilated gaze as it sat right in front of her.

Her hand felt a reassuring squeeze. Looking down, she noticed Pearl’s hand laid on top of her own, holding it tightly with a firm grip.

“Pearlie…”

The inkling was busy exchanging glares with Cassandra in heated hostility. Seeing her partner hiss and guard her so intensely made Marina realise: If she had ever had to face her past, she would never have to face it alone anymore.

Bolstered by the support, Marina took a deep breath and stared back at the malicious elite with chilling confidence. “(I’ve been doing fine, thank you.)” Outnumbered two to one, Cassandra’s tentacles began to wilt and droop under their stares, her confidence peeling off like weathered wallpaper as her own glare started to falter. The pressure bored into her with impending weight; it felt like she awaited judgement. Whatever it was, she was certain of two things: that this wasn’t a good fight to pick, and that she wouldn’t want to be here to find out.

“I-I’ll be back.” Getting up from her seat whilst clearing her throat, the rough-hewn octoling hastily paced towards the door, presumably to the bathroom. It was also in that same haste and speed that she didn’t notice the slight elevation in the doorway, her foot promptly colliding straight into the ridge as she walked out.

It was a rather hard fall, as Cassandra tripped out into the hallway with a small “wagh!” and a loud thud. Rather than getting up, the octoling simply laid there unresponsively, almost as if it were a better idea to do that. Not that it helped her case anyways.

Eight peeked in again from the hall shortly after, curious about the commotion she returned to. “Is she alright?” asked Eight, hovering a finger over the fallen octoling in the doorway.
“She - um - she’s a little exhausted, I think?”

Touch Grass (Surume, Cass)
“Why is everything so green now!?” Surume gave Cassandra a dumbfounded stare as they loitered about. “Wasn’t everything white and snowy before?”

“Were the domes climate controlled?”

“Uhh - what’s that gotta do with this?”

“Y’know, places like Inkopolis have seasons. We’ve got spring, summer, fall and winter - and it’s spring now, so all the grass is growing again after winter.”

“What’s grass? Is it like moss?”

Her hands sort of lifted themselves up near her head with a shrugging motion, dumbfounded by the genuine question. “You don’t know what grass is!?” Looking around the vicinity, Surume pointed to a small patch of green lawn growing under a tree across them. “Look, dome girl - there’s some there.”

Drawn by curiosity, she beelined straight to the small patch of soil, crouching down in front of it as her hand floated over the sparse green bristle. Her hand flinched at the initial sharp touch, before sinking deep into the unexpected softness of the vegetation, cooled by the dewdrops resting on its blades.

“Huh.” Thoroughly amused by the new experience, Cassandra looked at Surume with a light giggle. “Somehow, it’s like I’ve always known how this feels.”

Something about seeing Cassie relaxed and eagerly enjoying herself like this felt enriching to Surume, who lit up with a bouncy, giddy feeling as well, a little voice within her wanting to see it again and again.

Pollen Allergies (Surume, Cass)

It was a nice day, if one were to not consider the uncontrollable sneezing, and the plentiful other irritations that made it anything but a nice day.

“UUUuugg - HYATCHOO! Uugh.”

“Hey, Caffie. You choo?”

“mmmurgh.” Certainly, this was the groan of someone who felt absolutely stellar right now.

“Ifs pollen sheeshun, sho I guesfh you have - *ghnk!* - allergeesh too! *sniff*”

Cassandra looked towards Surume with irritated and watery eyes, letting out a dry honk of a cough. Wonder what tipped her off. “Whutever this pollen thing is, it sucks,” she croaked.

“Gotta pharmashee aphfer dis.”

Mother Marie (Marie, Surume, Cass)
“Good work, Four. Keep at it, and take care of yourself.”

“Okaaay.” The kimono-draped authority in green and white rewarded the eager agent’s report with several pats on the head, before quietly disappearing along the backwater pathways, trailed only by the click-clacks of her wooden sandals.

Returning from the secluded alley, Surume regrouped with Cassandra with a light pep in her step. The tan octoling curiously leaned forwards to peek, repeatedly observing such occurrences. ‘That makes another time,’ she thought to herself. At this rate, she ought to confirm her suspicions.

“Yo, Surume - is she your mother or something?”

Surume was cut short and taken aback by the blunt question, bearing an expression of shock and confusion. “What!? No! What gives!?” she blurted.

Cassandra folded her arms behind her head, only made more interested by the extreme response. “Well, you’re often running around picking up stuff because she asked, and she’s dropped you off a couple of times. I honestly thought she was your parent by now.”

The pale inkling scratched at her cheek as she gave the question more thought, her small eyebrows bobbing around repeatedly. “Well, kinda? Callie did like to joke that I’m her partner in crime.”

“No joke there,” witted Cass. Surume began to look beyond the horizon, delving even deeper into thought as she affixed her eyes to the vanishing point. “Ever since I first came here, Marie’s been looking out for me, even after Callie came back.”

“I guess she is like a mom to me, in some ways.”

Fruits (Surume/Cass)

“Cassie! I got us some snacks!”

Energetically swinging around a weighty plastic bag in hand as she walked towards them, Surume plopped the bag down onto the table that Cass was seated at with a chunky, solid rumble. The octoling peeked into the white bag with her fingers, observing an assortment of shapes and colours and the mild scent of sap. Not exactly snacks, if you’d ask her.

Cassandra looked up with an unamused stare. “What’s this, exactly?”

“It’s fruit! Mako Mart had a bumper sale,” Fishing out a yellow-crescent fruit from the bag, the inkling held one in each hand, pointing them at the octoling as if it were her own dualies.“Pew-pew!” Cassandra could only roll her eyes at seeing such dorky behaviour come from someone of their age. Surume dropped herself onto the other chair with speed only belonging to that of a dualies main, taking a bite out of the now-unpeeled banana in her hand.

“Heh. Bet you’re too much ’f a wuss to try them all.” The smug, full-cheeked grin on her face told Cass that Surume knew exactly what she was doing, but she also knew better than to admit defeat so easily.

“Oh yeah? Watch me.”

What started out as a dare quickly slowed down to a crawl with each new fruit and berry placed into her mouth. By about a quarter way through, Cass was already single-mindedly savouring each fruit’s diverse flavours and textures with every bite, having blissfully forgotten about the challenge made mere moments ago. Despite this, she was well on her way to completing it without further question.

Finishing off the last of the strawberries in a whole box, Cass lifted out a hairy, brown oval from the plastic bag, giving it a glaring squint as if it would tell her its secrets. Egg, but hairy; soft. “What’s this one?” Not waiting for a response, the octoling took a large bite out of the fruit’s green pulp, skin and all.

“That’s a kiwi. You can eat it with the skin, I just don’t like the taste.”

“Whatever,” Cass uncaringly continued to chew, flicking aside a half-eaten sticker that she pulled from her mouth. “You’re just a kiwi-hater, anyways.”

Surume leaned back, playfully hurt by the unprompted sass. “Aww, what? No I ain’t.”

“Yes you are, can’t eat the whole thing.”

“Nuh-uh. Most don’t,” she reasoned, sticking out her tongue in jest and jeer.

“Kiwi-hater.”

The inkling gave a playful huff and pout, letting them win this time as she shooed away the cheeky octo with her hand. “Well okay, you biased kiwi apologist.”

Bubble Tea (Surume, Cass)
Cooling off after a strenuous set of matches - what better way than to do that with a cold drink? Surume took a draw of the chilled beverage from a large straw, the faint sound of music leaking out from her custom-painted headphones as she chilled out, unbothered by the world passing by.

Habitually seated beside the agent, Cass curiously lifted the clear sealed plastic cup by the top, swirling the fluid around. It looked like ink. Was it ink? Muddy water?

“Kiwi-hater. What’s in this again?” Surume pulled off her headphones to listen to the question. If anything, she found it endearing to see Cass mimic her like this, having earlier noticed the octoling enter the same store shortly after she did.

“Huh? Oh, it’s tea, with some chewy bits! It’s really good!”

As far as Cass was concerned, tea was a clear brown-to-black beverage brewed from leaves; an opaque, murky beige fluid with black beads bobbing about was certainly not tea - far from it, if one could scarcely believe so. Cassandra lowered the cup down from her eyes, hesitant of the dubious drink.

Well… she already bought it herself, and it was already in her hands. ‘Ehh, couldn’t hurt to try, right? Can’t waste food like this.’ Tearing through the cup’s plastic top, she slowly took a careful sip of the milk tea.

The texture was silky-smooth and heavier than regular tea, while carrying the same roasted taste, albeit longer-lasting and a hard-to-describe ‘thickness’ that clung to her mouth. Wasn’t bad. In fact, she kind of preferred this - probably without the chewy pearls that stuck on her teeth like barnacles on a hull.

“Aah. Not bad.” With an approving head tilt, Cass chugged the rest of the drink in record time, slamming down the crumpled cup with a cooled sigh.

The two sat around for a bit longer as Surume slowly finished her bubble tea. Having finished it off, she took an aimed shot at a distant, unassuming and honestly innocent trashcan, binning the empty cup with near-perfect accuracy. “Nailed it!” The peppy orange-tentacled inkling pressed her dualies down onto the table as she stood up, done with resting for now - there were things to do! What things exactly, she’d figure out later.

“Hey, Cassie. Let’s go somewhere else!”

“Roger that.” As Cassandra got up from the chair, a disturbance could be felt in her system. A deep disturbance, the rumbling sort that would wake even the dead. Not even a few steps in, she quickly crouched down, rendered immobile by the sudden discomfort and sharp pain in the pit of her gut as she curled inwards.

“Cassie?”

The octoling could not speak nor respond as she clutched her gut tightly, sweating in distress. Between her heavy breaths, she could only weakly call out to Aaaagh-Ooogh, patron deity of Really Bad Stomach Pain as she held on for dear life.

“You’re not… able to drink milk*, are you…?”

*Note: Milk is derived from - aaaaah f*ck it. All you need to know is that it’s not the same and that it’s milk. I don’t have to explain sh*t.

Messy Eater (Kiwi-hater/Cass)

It’s been a while since Cass had Octarian food, so it was much to her delight that there was such a place just a few blocks from her residence.

The joint’s dusky and metal-ridden interior was mostly populated by octolings, largely preferred for their dim lights and quieter atmosphere to the surface’s commonplace cacophony. It was here that Cass would find many familiar dishes in both name and smell, freshly made by culturally similar people.

Noisily gobbling up a second bowl of wasabi noodles, the elite octoling let out a bellowing sigh of satisfaction. “Gahaha! I’ve been eating so much meat that I’d almost forgotten how this tastes,” Cass grinned, loudly proclaiming her nostalgia. “Feels good to have a taste of home.”

Surume sighed softly as she pushed aside her own unfinished bowl. It wasn’t quite her thing, having her nose and mouth be completely numbed in a single spoonful of the greenish broth. “It’s okaaayy, I guess. How do you eat this kind of stuff?”

“Same goes for your greasy food,” Cass replied. “I felt as sick as a slug after eating those - whaddyacall’em – sliii-ders?”

“It’s, like, 80 percent wasabi! Don’t tell me you eat this regularly.” She chuckled a little at their animated posing and gestures. If anything, Surume was a little short on the number there.

“Hey, I’ll eat anything!” she grinned. “Anyways, this wasn’t an everyday thing. Before sh*t went to hell, we were given meals, and on good days, the company would get together for a round of this stuff.”

“Like party food?”

“Yeah, kinda like a-uh, a celebratory meal. Challenged each other to see who could eat the most,” Her mind began to drift slightly, eyes drawn to the remaining broth lazily swirling in the bowl.
“After things broke apart, we had to live on barnacles and mushrooms,” she continued, grimacing at the thought. “Some of the things I’ve eaten were… bad,” Surume supposed against asking exactly what, in the interest of keeping her stomach contents.

Proudly showing her bared, shark-like beak while at ease, Cassandra wore a natural grin of confidence as she looked on. “Let’s just say that living day-to-day without knowing when your next meal will be makes you take what you can get.”

Surume blankly stared at the octoling for several moments, before wordlessly leaning close without a prompt.

“Wh-” Cassandra flinched and winced at the unexpected movement, feeling a light pressure that dragged across her cheek. She immediately recoiled in shock, wide-eyed from the sudden contact to her face.

Sitting back upright, Surume pulled her arm back to reveal a tissue in her hand. “There,” she unfolded the soft paper to reveal a faint green smudge. “You had some ‘sabi on your cheek.”

The octoling’s face was flooded with a bright lilac blush, as if the spice had all suddenly flown back to her head in a microsecond. Blundered stammering was the only noise that could leave her throat while her eyes flickered and her tentacles withered as if being fried, trying very hard to remain Nice And Civil in front of the genuinely well-intentioned inkling.

“You- Ah- Muh- J-just tell me instead next time…”

“Um, okay.” Slightly confused, Surume simply carried on, oblivious to the event that had just transpired. Ignorance is very much bliss, much to Cass’s own disgruntlement.

Teeth (Kiwi-hater/Cass)
Cassie’s strange beak had been a curiosity to Surume for some time now. It was less like a beak and more like an Octomaw, if an Octomaw was made of bone and enamel and it served to demolish soft fruits instead of whole unfortunate inklings. Sometime after watching Cassie lodge her teeth into the thick hide of a thorny durian did Surume begin to wonder - what was the real purpose of her serrated beak?

A quick probing question would reveal that while most octarians would like to keep their beak in shape, altercations such as fillings and dentures were also common, owing to the technology and dexterity that made dentistry a common field in the peak of Octarian civilisation. The same question would also make Surume revise her outlook on Cassie’s intelligence, as the octo proudly went and got them ‘sharpened’ with the sole intent of ‘looking cooler’ than the rest of her kin, the thought of even considering purpose only arriving much, much later.

Training Attendance (Team Voyager)
Sundew, Wister and Cassandra sat about in the lobby foyer, waiting on the last of their team to arrive before they could book a vacant range.

“…Shall we start?”

Wister rolled up his parka’s sleeve as he looked down sternly at his stainless steel watch, absolutely not reading the time. “Mm. Let’s get going. Management wants us on time. He’ll be here eventually.” Just as the three of them got up with their Hydra, Nautilus and Ballpoint in tow, the sound of heavy-footed running and rhythmic clattering could be heard from behind the doors as the disheveled final member caught up to the group.

“*Huff*, *Huff* - Woo! I’m here! I’m here!” Penguin slouched down to gasp for air, his goggles lop-sided and off-kilter like an inebriated dragonfly slanted by moderate winds.

“Oh. You’re here, for once.”

Catching his breath, he pulled at his scuba goggles, aligning it to his eyes with an audible slap. “Yeah, I gotta be, can’t be late for this practice! Valuing Nessie’s time and all that.” Sundew’s brown-red eyes narrowed from under her cap, sensing an exploitable loophole.

“…So you don’t value ours?” A sarcastic slow clap was stoically given to drive the point home. “Woooow.”
The young inkling lifted his hands up in defensive apologetics as he began to sweat. “Hey, hey, hey. I didn’t say that. Y’all are my friends-”

“So you don’t value any of your friends’ time, is that what it is?” “Yeah…”

“I-It’s just that first impressions are important - y’kn - Oww!”

Wister lifted his curled knuckles, allowing Penguin to rub the top of his now-sore head which had just been struck flatter than a nail under a hammer.

“Quit digging yourself a grave while you still can. Now, let’s go.”

“Okay, okay. Yeesh…”

What’s in the drink, anyways? (Kiwi-hater/Cass)
Sighting the colourful tentacles on the heads of lobby-goers walking in and out from Deca Tower’s doors, Cass turned to Surume with an expression that could only spell a genuine question as they sat along the plaza edge.

“Hey, Kiwi-hater,” The inkling autonomously looked back in response to the name with an unfocused stare and a low hum. Surume was already tired of the frankly incorrect nickname by now, but she also supposed that was the exact reason Cass chose it. “Do you know what the drinks are for? The ones we get before a battle; the ones that taste kinda blegh?”

“You mean… the ones that we are given in a little paper cup?”

“Yeah, those.”

Shifting gears into Education Mode, Surume took a deep breath as she gave the octoling a raised index finger.

“So, okay, you know how we can change colours pretty easily most of the time with a few gulps of ink? They can’t have that happening in the middle of a match, or else some players might accidentally swap teams! Some models use an ink fixer to keep their cuts a certain colour for a photoshoot, right? The pre-battle shot we drink has a lot of the same chemicals! It’s to make sure we that we stay a single colour for a while, usually a few minutes or a couple of hours, depending on the event. The ink tastes bad ‘cause of it, but it’s pretty much harmless.”

“Oh, okay - cool,” said Cass, forgetting it immediately. Instead, she pointed towards her own black tentacles, swirling her finger round in a twirling motion.

“So you mean I can just. Change my colour?”

“Yeah??? Everyone can. It’s easy,” Surume confusedly replied. Who didn’t know how to change colours?

“How, though?” The question marks could almost be seen if one were to squint, themselves rapidly sprouting on her head like an overgrown chia pet.

As it turns out, the Octarian education system (or at least Octavio’s, for that matter) is a sham, the sort that would be emphasised with a capitalised S. “All I was taught in my garrison was Octarian, basic math, combat skills and history,” explained Cass, unfurling her fingers as she listed them out. It was a bit appalling to hear it stop at just that, but Surume knew the poor education was obviously not borne out of accident, however - to keep an army illiterate would be to make them blind to written lies.

“Um, well,” Surume scoffed, looking around their vicinity. “You see that green, leafy tree there?”

“Yeah?”

“Just focus on the colour and nothing else.” The black-tentacled octoling looked up at the leaves swaying in the gentle breeze, silently focused as she listened to them sing with their rustling leaves and crackling branches. They looked like moss in the shade, while others were illuminated with the colours of algae on a still-water’s surface. Veins like thin wire, some leaves curled and crisp with dark shades of green like the kelp of her kind - all found next to each other like neighbours and kin, a glassy moving mosaic of a million different hues, held aloft by vine-crept branches as they all sought the sun…

“Hey, you did it!” Just as the agent began to applaud, Cass snapped back to attention. “I did!?” The vibrant green hues in her tentacles rapidly faded before she could check for herself, washed away by the usual not-quite inky black.

“- Ah.”

Too Proud (Kiwi/Cass)

“Cassieeee! Come shop with me!”
“Fine—can’t be without me, huh?”

Cassandra audibly huffed, currently dragged along by Surume on her hunt. How did she let herself get into this situation? They had already been in two other stores of similar wares and were now headed to the third, looking for a specific kind - a ‘limited edition’, according to the flighty inkling’s own words.

“Please, please pleeease let this be the one!” The urgency in Surume’s voice made it sound serious - and it was, though only to her. “I’ve been collecting these since I was a kid - I have to have them all!” As soon as they brushed past the door and into the large outlet, she instantly started to comb the stocked shelves, not leaving even a second to waste as she dissolved into the surroundings.

Not nearly as invested as her, Cass gave an exasperated sigh as she waited near the entrance, still surrounded by colourful toys packed from wall to wall like a brick fort, if the bricks were plastic boxes with merchandise and other things.

Bah, toys. For what purpose would she have them? Toys were for kids, who needed such entertainment. She wasn’t a kid.

Before long, boredom more so than curiosity itched at her mind, with no sign of Kiwi returning soon.
“(Guess I’ll look around, though I ain’t getting anything,)” she begrudgingly mumbled to herself as she started to pace the store’s layout, hands stuffed in pockets.

Cass let out an audible yawn as she walked through the aisles of the air-conditioned store. Nothing much really caught her eye, but that was mostly due to her stopping herself from getting interested by clearly looking at any single one for too long. Nothing much, except for one located near the back end of the store; its yellow, curled whiskers catching her attention as she walked past.

As she turned her head, the not-quite-life-size Great Zapfish was now placed front and centre in her line of sight. Its long black stuffed body was made of soft and inviting fabric, with gleaming plastic beads for eyes and vibrantly coloured cloth fins made to resemble the real creature as it hung down from the very top of the rack, displaying a length that would rival her own height.

‘(No.)’

Pulling her eyes away, she turned her back to the plushie and walked away. As she kept reminding herself of her values, she unconsciously continued to pace around the curve several times, repeatedly denying its presence each time she walked past it.

It called out to her, unmoving. It pestered her with its cuteness and beady eyes as she fought the physical urge to approach, holding tightly onto her strained resolve with clenched fists. She was a leader, damn it. Leaders don’t have time for toys! But… there was time, now. A secluded part of her spoke up, selfishly wanting a closer look.

‘(Wait. What would become of my image as a leader? I kinda want to feel it, though…)’
The cognitive dissonance only continued to grow in volume, until she inhaled deeply and sought to silence it all.

‘(Just curious. Why do you bother me so much?)’

Despite the hardened cold stare she wore, she was, in fact, heavily tempted to hug, squish and nuzzle the floppy plushie. The urges were only made stronger as she held it aloft in her hands, feeling the soft fuzz between her fingers.

After a brief moment of silent contemplation, Cass sheepishly looked about, checking that no one was in sight.

‘(No one’s around, right? Just a little…)’

Taking the chance, the plush was pulled close to her body in a tight squeeze. It was softer than anything she had held before, warmer than any bed or pillow. Sinking her face into the fuzzy, fluffy cushioning, her tentacles began to wrap around the plushie, thoroughly enjoying the floaty, velvety feeling as they moved up and down in a slow, brushing motion.

“Mmmmphhh.”

She stayed like that, for an indeterminate amount of time. Refreshed from the healing experience, Cass woozily looked up from the plushie, immediately noticing a pair of shoes that loomed just a few feet away from her.

“What’chya got there, hmm?”

Reflexively recoiling and leaning back at the sudden smug presence looking on, it didn’t take long for her to realise she had been caught fully in the act. Her tentacles coiled back as she froze up in the realisation, regret drilling itself deeper into her mind with each passing second.

Surume gave a small giggle as she approached the octoling, mischeviously wrapping her hands behind her back. She practically caught them with their pants down, so why not have a little fun with it?

Leaning closer to the reticent octoling, she gave Cass a tight-lipped smile, who looked as if they could just shrivel up and splat on the spot.

“What’s that in your arms? Looks hella cute,” she mockingly cooed.

“Sh-shut up,” Cass fumbled, unable to face Surume directly. ‘(Of all the people to see me like this, why did it have to be this squid…)’

“Then why were you huffing that thing like your life depended on it?”

“Urgh…”

Cass tightened her grip on the toy, holding it close for comfort as she peeked out from behind it, eyebrows scrunched and cheeks flared lilac. “Hey! You better not tell anyone about this, you hear!?”

“Don’t worry. Because…” Surume moved her arms from behind her back to proudly reveal a small Zapfish plushie sitting in her hands, this one completely covered in flashy sequins that made it look like a disco ball.

“Tadah! Your secret is safe with me. Aaaaand everyone else that I can talk to – oww!”

Soft objects, when given enough force, hurt just as much as hard objects.

Photo Booth (Kiwi/Cass)
The usual suspects loitered about aimlessly along the closed-air shops, spending their sudden off day doing nothing of real substance. Being unable to play any matches while the lobbies underwent their biweekly maintenance routine meant that there were many competitive inkfish similarly displaced like them, suddenly populating malls and other communal places in search of alternative means of entertainment.

They paced around the mall because they were bored, but pacing around the mall only bored them further. Seeking any kind of stimulation as they continued to walk through mindlessly, Surume spotted a row of cuboid kiosks out of the corner of her eye, stationed along a bare wall. ‘Looks like a good idea to pass some time,’ she thought to herself.

“Hey, Cassie! Let’s go here!” Cass nearly fell over from the unexpected pull on her wrist, stumbling as she was yoinked into the small metal box.

“Let’s take some photos!”

“Photos? Really?”

“Yeah! You know, some fun ones using the props they have here! It’ll be less boring than sitting around.”

Cass knew what photos were. She didn’t want them. The very concept of having images of herself that could be easily distributed made her shift uncomfortably. But before she could voice her thoughts, a fuzzy hat was placed over her head and the camera had begun to whirr and shutter.

Miraculously, she managed to survive the photoshoot with a forced grimace, scraping by with simple finger poses and stiff gestures while Surume remained at high degrees of enthusiasm all the way through.
Cheerfully picking up the printed photos, she turned to show it to the stiff octo as they placed the hat aside. “Isn’t this fun?” she giggled.

“Uhh…Yeah. Woo.”

“…Oh.” Surume quieted down, having noticed the disinterest in Cass’ averted eyes. “…It’s alright if you don’t want to do these things with me.”

They returned to aimlessly walking about the mall, this time without any more spontaneous detours or energetic pointing from Surume as she quietly shuffled along, her gaze fixed ahead with a stony expression.
Cass felt a tiny bit sorry for seeing Surume unlike her usual peppy disposition, but also a little bit of awkwardness as she remained beside the unusual lack of character. With a sharp inhale between her serrated beak, she turned to ask a question. “Kiwi,”

“Why are you even sharing so many of these things with me?”

“Why? Well…”

“Most of my friends are near my home, so I don’t really know anyone super well here in Inkopolis,” she continued, looking ahead vacantly.

“We used to hang out all the time, but now… Kaori’s always on duty and Eight’s got her hobbies, going with Pearl and Marina nowadays,” She let out a listless sigh, a little depressed by her own words. “It sometimes feels like all of my friends are splitting apart.”

Surume suddenly turned to face Cass with a bright yet pained smile, finding it all quite laughable in some ironic manner.

“I guess I feel a little lonely here, haha.”

The mopey inkling was quickly shaken out of her lamenting, alerted by the sudden pressure as Cass forcefully grabbed her by the shoulders and stared into her with lively green eyes and a fiercely energetic grin.
“Hey! Quit being so down! Even if I don’t like doing this kinda stuff that much, I still like to just hang out with you! It’s fun! I’m down to try stuff you want to do - It’d be better like that, no?”

Surume’s ears perked back up after a brief delay, eyes twinkling glossily with excitement as she processed the pep talk.

“…Really!?”

One rascal was enough for her - Now there’s more!
Photobombs, Autobombs, avoiding them became a tasking chore.
While what she did was to ensure things didn’t go amiss,
She didn’t ask for any single bit of this!

Odd ‘gifts’ and many, many weird hats,
They hovered about like a persistent pair of gnats.
Mixed ‘soap’, swapped hot and cold taps,
What did she do to deserve a second brat?

Afternoon Naps
Following an exhaustive session of turf wars since morning and a post-match meal, Surume and Cass perched on a local park’s bench to cool off in the spring breeze. The weather was largely inoffensive, with the bright sunlight reaching them as rays of warmth, filtered by the leaves they sat under.

Surume let out a yawn that soon jumped to Cassandra, induced by the soothing mixture of warm light and cooling air. Not even the most alert and excitable of inkfish were immune to this kind of weather, so it would seem.

Cass could feel her head grow heavy and hollow. It wasn’t purely exhaustion or fatigue, but the sort of comfortable thoughtlessness that makes heads weigh a million tons, and would rapidly send minds plunging into the dreaming abyss at a single opportunity.

The octoling struggled to stay vigilant, jolting awake each time she began to nod off. Her breath would slow each time she closed her eyes and the world would skip ahead when she opened them again, drowsiness dragging her down while the warm sun wrapped around her like a weighted blanket, secure and impenetrable.

In the wordless serenity, it seemed so, so quiet, the voices of others nearby growing faint and obscure.

“Hey, Kiwi…”

“…”

“Kiwi?” Slowly looking to her side with heavy eyelids, she found the inkling seated beside her, quietly leaning their weight into her shoulder. The slow rise and fall of their chest was as much of a response Cass would get as Surume peacefully slept, undisturbed by their surroundings.

Was she always asleep? When did she lean on her? She didn’t notice. She was too tired to notice.
Unable to fight against the hushing of her senses any longer, Cass closed her unfocused eyes with a small exhale, surrendering herself to a little nap.

Sometime later, among the many others that went by, did two familiar faces chance upon them as they crossed through the park.

“psst, three,” whispered one to the other in a hushed tone, as if not to wake them even though they stood well across the park. “look over there.” Kaori looked towards the bench that Eight pointed out, where the familiar inkfish could be seen resting their heads on each other as they slept in the leafy shade, dappled by the soft sunlight.

Without another word, the casual agents approached the two, who remained asleep and unknowing to the presences now standing in front of them.

“awwwwh. oh, wait! one thing,” Still hushed, Eight fished out a phone from her pocket, angling the camera towards them as they remained still.

Just as Eight leaned in to take the shot, Surume’s head tipped forwards, just as if some ineffable force had pushed it. Cass’s head rolled back in a similar fashion from the movement, letting out a single loud snore as her mouth fell open - the sort that would be annotated as a single large ‘Z’.

“Ah.”

Chapter 10: Chapter 9 - Birth Day

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 - Birth Day (Optional)

“I remember participating in an unusual tradition.“

“Hey. What’d y’all want?”
“So. You know that Surume’s birthday is pretty soon, right…?”

Come the weekend, Surume bounded off the usual train and excitedly made her way to the foot of Deca Tower. It was a long week, assignments and group work and whatnot, so a bout of turfing with some friends sounded even sweeter this time.

“Sup, gamers!” With a quick wave, Surume slowed her pace as she approached Kaori, Eight and Cass as they stood about in wait. It was a little concerning to see Kaori and Cass quietly stand next to each other, but they seemed to be minding their own businesses.

“Kiwi!” “Has your week been busy?”

“Yeeeaah,” she groaned, absolutely done with thinking about it. “The workload’s been so heavy that I had to spend all of my birthday studying! Could you imagine!?” Some digital wishes and a slice of cake to herself would have to suffice for this year, though it did make her sigh a bit. A lot. Anyways, she’d rather not think about all of that right now. “Aren’t we gonna game? Where’s everyone’s gear?”

“About that,” Eight looked away. “We’ve got plans.”

“Ah.” Before Surume could be further bummed out, a small white ticket was brought to her attention, fished out from Kaori’s pocket before it was given to her. Her expression quickly lit up as she held it close, realising the small ruse.

“Plans to bring you somewhere!”

Running along the path to Wahoo’s entrance, Surume bounced wildly ahead of the rest as they caught up. As soon as they made it past the entry gates, the overjoyed inkling dashed wildly from place to place, eager to make a thorough sweep of the park as she rapidly pointed about.

“Oh! Oh! I wanna go there! And there, and there! It’s been so long since - ooh, that’s new! C’mon, c’monc’monc’mon, let’s go! Charge!” While she kept her voice in check, her body expressions were certainly cranked up by a few degrees from the ramping enthusiasm and anticipation. Practically vibrating with excitement, she ran ahead of the group to look ahead, leaving them to catch up.

The park had all of the key characteristic traits of an amusem*nt park - thrill rides, fair games, extensive merchandising and overpriced snacks. Of course, the excitable inkling decided to run a full lap of each store as part of this thorough sweep. This accumulated in an impressive haul of hats and silly accessories, the excess of which was stacked on an increasingly bothered Kaori who was now barely recognisable as they walked from under a pile of glasses and brightly coloured headgear.

As Surume continued to blaze a path with Kaori pulled along and Eight by her side, Cass simply followed behind the three of them as they went from attraction to attraction, curiously scanning the bright, noisy environment and spectating them as they played, eventually participating with boastful swagger in the games of skill offered - though failing miserably in nearly all that didn’t involve sheer force.

Walking along the park district’s layout, something familiar caught Eight’s eye, told by the shifting of machinery. Cork rifles, a row of them, lined before an array of targets at a stall.

“You there! How good is your shot?” With a shared glint in their eyes, all four of them knew, there and then, it was game on.

It goes well without saying that it takes a little less than three agents and a soldier to run a shooting gallery dry, rigged or not. Between Kaori’s mastery, Eight’s precision, Surume’s reflexes and Cass’ training, the poor gallery did not stand a chance, its prizes bled dry in a matter of minutes.

Soon after did they begin to slow down from all of the accumulated weight of the prizes and merchandise, now meandering comfortably around the pier (walkways?) with their large haul, bragging and one-upping each other’s scores. A small, knowing smirk made its way onto Kaori’s face as they continued along, satisfied by seeing Surume enjoying herself like she used to, said inkling blissfully munching through a prohibitively expensive chocolate-coated waffle. Well, it wouldn’t be wrong to say they all had fun as well.

While this was mostly planned, the looming dark overhang that grew in the sky was not. It grew subtly in the sky, gradually, as to not make itself known.

The drizzle first brings confusion. Outstretched open palms, eyes towards the sky. Then, a droplet of water. It invokes mild concern, with some beginning to seek shelter. The droplets would come one after the other, accelerating in rapid succession as it drove people under coverage one by one. Rain had come. Water that fell from the sky, like a shattered ocean had begun to fall on them in a million pieces.

They waited for the heavy rain to pass under a small canopy, slightly damp - or terribly soaked, in Surume’s case.

“Sumi, why’d you stay out in the rain so long? You almost splatted out there!” asked Eight concernedly as she held on to the bulk of the merchandise to be kept dry, watching the water drip from the inkling’s bloated tentacles. With a deep breath and her nose pinched, Surume blew hard to force the excess rainwater that collected in her system, deflating to her normal size.

“It’ll be ages before they reopen the rides! I’m not gonna get another chance like this soon,” stubbornly pouted Surume as she squeezed her tentacles dry.

Kaori sighed as she closed her eyes. “What a bummer.”

The drenched inkling dropped her mildly upset expression to show a bright, radiant grin despite still being dripping wet and cold. “It’s okay, though - getting to celebrate with you guys is one of the best birthday gifts I’ve ever gotten!”

As the rain cleared, the crowd began to diffuse onto the soaked paths again. In the now-vacant walkways, the jubilant inkling skipped through the puddles, causing a splash in each step as she leapt, as carefree as the last few droplets of rain that fell.

Chapter 11: Chapter 10 - Sick Day

Chapter Text

Chapter 10 - Sick Day
“I remember caring for my friend.“

Shaded from the early noon by a store’s awning, Cass peeked down at her phone to check the time again, all while impatiently waggling a chewed lollipop stick in her mouth.

“(Where is she? She’s usually around by now…)”

As she looked up from her phone, a familiar presence could be felt from the corner of her eye.

“Hm? Oh, Eight.” The gentle octoling quietly responded with a courteous wave and a smile. “D’you know where Kiwi went?”

“That’s what I’m here to tell you about - she’s sick, and can’t play today,” she replied, a little apologetic to be the bearer of bad news.

“Eh?”

“Well,” Eight pondered, looking at Cass’ eyes widen in surprise. “Shall we go get some goods for her?”

…

Inside the local pharmacy’s sterile white interior, Cass walked along behind Eight, surrounded by countless shelves stocked with familiar medical supplies between a slew of unusual goods, the names of which she hadn’t seen elsewhere. Bandaids, ink declotter, Nyquil, gill gauzes, ‘sun screen’ - ‘(what kind of medicine is ‘sun screen’?)’

“Hey, Eight,” Cass curiously looked over to see what the other octoling was searching for. “What’s she down with?”

“She caught a microalgal infection*. A pretty bad one, too - must’ve got it from the rain yesterday,” wondered Eight aloud as she further scanned the shelves with her clay-coloured fingers. Ah, algae. An otherwise inoffensive organism as an individual, but able to colonise entire water systems if allowed to - and considering they were, simply put, moving bodies of ink, it posed some concern indeed.

“So… are you two girls just friends?”

“Huh?” Cass raised a quizzical eyebrow, perplexed by the sudden question. It spurred her to think - had she even thought about having friend(s) since she got up here?

“I was asking if you were friends, since you’ve spent a lot of time together.”

“Yeah! We’ve been messing about a lot,” she grinned. “Even if we’re mostly about together - she’s the one showing me around,” Her words slowed and her expression relaxed to reveal a faint smile as she dawned upon the simple realisation.

“I guess it’s been nice having a friend.”

Eight gave a small giggle, acknowledging the statement. “Here.” Picked from the upper rack, a small bottle of an oily, yellow-brown liquid was dropped into Cass’ hands. “Sumi’s has the rest.”

(Following a rather long forty-minute train ride out of town, the two made their way through the suburbs and to Surume’s house. It was kind of like the city, but spread wide and flat rather than tall and dense, decorated with low-rise buildings and large industrial warehouses of similar make, which is to say it wasn’t like the city at all. It all felt a little too open, being able to see the sky from end to end.)

Signalled by an aching creak resounding from the wooden door, the daylight poured into the dark, cooled and messy layout of Surume’s bedroom, stirring the inkling that rested under the blankets.

“Sumi. Are you feeling better?”

The sickly inkling exhaustedly kept her head on the pillow, only responding with a weak nod and a soft groan in place of her usual demeanour. A large jug of water sat on the bed’s nightstand beside her, with it an unfinished cup of dissolved analgesic.

After filling the glass with more water and tallying the nightstand’s supply, Eight turned to Cass, handing her the bottle of topical salve from earlier. “Could you help apply this? I need to go look for the rest of the internal medication downstairs.”

“Hey, w-” Quickly looking up from the bottle, she found the doorway had already been made vacant as the other octoling vanished without a trace, leaving her with several unanswered questions and unvoiced protests.

Loosely following what she could make of the instructions on the back of the bottle, she left to the nearby bathroom to dilute an estimated quarter of the salve in a small plastic tub, the faint sound of rushing water echoing out into the uneventful hall. Not long after leaving, she returned to Surume’s bedroom with the prepared solution and a small towel in hand, closing the door behind her as she placed it down near the bed.

“Alright,” muttered the octoling, soaking the towel in the orange-tinted solution and wringing the excess off with a quick twist. “Can you sit up?”

Unfolding the damp towel in her hand, Cass began to gently wipe over the blotches that were visible, starting from the back of Surume’s head. Only the room’s soft ambient hum could be heard in the otherwise dim and cool silence as she continued, eventually moving towards their neck and shoulders where more hidden patches had resided. There was a little bit more that she could do, though, as some patches ran under the collar and sleeves, to places that Surume likely wouldn’t be able to reach by herself in her current state.

“Could you… lift your shirt for a bit?”

Turning away at her request, Surume lifted her baggy pyjamas upwards to expose her bare back, revealing several large algal blooms that sprawled across her lean frame as leafy-green bruises. The skin around each sore was dull and desaturated, as if drained of vitality.

Soaking and wringing the towel again, Cass applied the mentholated salve across the algal colonies with mild pressure. The cool moisture of the towel made Surume twitch a little as it first touched her upper back, but she otherwise accepted the soothing help without further reaction.

The room remained quiet. Little to her own awareness, Cass subconsciously began to hold her breath in the silence as she continued to look on. She could feel her pulse quicken with each attempt to focus, but also found it equally hard to avert her gaze. It was an unusual feeling of second-hand embarrassment and taut-string tension, even though it was Kiwi who was exposed and vulnerable, not her.

Eventually through perseverance, the patches on Surume’s back were all wiped over, allowing Cass to catch her breath as the now-medicated sores were hidden under her shirt again.

“Go take care of your front,” Cass instructed with taxed breath, to which the inkling wearily nodded with a soft cough, still lethargic. A certain hesitance kept Cass from referring to her directly. “You can do that later.” With the tub and towel left at her bedside, Surume sank back down into her bedsheets as she remained in the dark bedroom while Cass left, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Outside, the octoling pressed the bridge of her nose with a finger as she grunted a little in frustration, unable to orient her shame as her pulse remained in knots.

“(f*ck. What am I doing?)”

What drove her to help Kiwi like that? So… intimately. And the fact Kiwi trusted her so fully, too. It quite honestly bothered her. Not in a dissonant way per se, it just really, really bothered her for some reason. They were just friends. Just friends! She hadn’t gone soft or anything, right!?

…Something about that question and its answer bothered her still, culminating in a long, drawn-out sigh.

Chapter 12: Chapter 11 - Summerside Invitation

Chapter Text

Chapter 11 - Summerside Invitation
“I remember the summer’s call.”

“Hey, Sumi! Doing good?” The excitable inkling jogged up to them before plopping herself down beside the two with an idle kick. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll get bored like last time since I brought Cassie along too - hope you guys don’t mind.” About that - Kaori did kinda mind, actually, looking over to reply with an irritated stare. Protest or not, the solid footsteps continuously echoed towards them from behind, stopping just before it could reach them.

“What are we doing here?”

Eight looked up and back at Cassandra with a blank, curious stare for just a moment, before offering her a welcoming smile while patting the ledge next to her. “Oh, this? It’s just a little thing I like to do to welcome summer. Come, sit with us!”

Without much else to say, Cass joined them at the edge of the pier, seated between Eight and Surume as she helped herself to a cinnamon-sugar pastry from the plastic bag. The mildly warm and humid shoreline serenity was quite relaxing for a while, though she couldn’t help but notice Kaori’s constant and wary side-eyeing —which could be felt without words, like a unwelcoming will-o-wisp lurking in the dark.

“Come on, Three. You can relax.” The wary agent grumbled softly, looking aside only to entertain Eight’s request. “Heheh,” Surume quipped, tickled by looking over at the exchange. “You’re just jelly that Eight gets another person to talk to that’s not you.”

“Shut.” The agent reached over to push their knuckles into the top of Surume’s head, eliciting an audible squeak. “Poy!”

Without much to say, the sparse banter soon fizzled out, leaving the four of them to make themselves comfortable in the silencing peace as they sat above the tide, listening to the waves rush onto the rocky shore. Having spent the last few conscious moments aimlessly watching the dark waves oscillate, Cass looked over to her left, where she saw that Kaori was now resting her head on Eight’s lap, eyes fully shut.

“(…Eight.)” The other octoling minutely turned her head, quietly focusing her oaken irises and oblong pupils on Cass without disturbing the inkling currently resting in her lap. “(How can you get so close to someone like her?)”

Guided by the words, Cassandra curiously peered up to witness the endless night sky, heralded by a round moon and filled with bright stars; specks of white painted on a canvas of faint purples and blacks that reflected on her eyes. She didn’t know what she looked at, but she knew it awakened an instinctual familiarity in her. It felt like looking through an opening; to see greater things than she could fathom or believe, just like finding a ray of sunlight shine from a crack in the ceiling of the domes below. The stars seemingly twinkled and flickered as she looked across with silent awe, their light travelling unreachable distances just to be caught by her eyes as a gentle spark. So pretty, and yet, so unfathomable.

She hadn’t given it much thought beforehand - it hadn’t really occurred to her - but by looking up the stars there and then, she realised she had already come to experience so much that her peers did not. Carefree winds and the warmth of sunlight rising off the heated earth upon her unadjusted skin. The ocean’s thrum coursing through her whole self, and the skies’ million-gradient hues. Others like her with those unlike her; the people that ‘made it’. And with it, the heretical thought that perhaps both could stand under the same sky. Even the winds itself would vary with each place, lacking a certain constant stuffiness and instead full of all sorts of new scents. The maritime air was just as uniquely different, rich with the taste of salt and brine as she filled her - “Aauaah, hHYAAchyoo! *sniff*” - lungs.

Gesundheit. Anyways...

Surume slouched down as she rested her chin on an open palm with a long sigh, staring into the black waters. “Man… Semester break’s ending soon. I wish things were easier than this, city rent’s so expensive…”
Feeling a quick double-tap on her shoulder, the long-sleeved lanky inkling looked to her side to see a torn half of a cinnamon sugar pastry held before her by an outstretched hand. “Huh? Oh, thanks!” Cass hastily turned away as Surume accepted the gesture, not even willing to acknowledge it. There was no further course for conversation, not when the silence rose with the incoming tide, leaving the four of them to only their thoughts and company. Only when the ocean waves reduced to soft lapping just under their shoes would another word be spoken.

(Though a simple interaction it was, she couldn’t help but feel some kind of restless intent buzz in her ears; like she could feel an opportunity slipping through her fingers. She’d hoped that sharing some food with Kiwi would be significant enough to curb the unknown urgency, but it wasn’t. What she wanted would have to be figured out, before the chance could slip away. '(Time to trust my gut…)')

“…”

“You know… with how often you crash at my bunker, like, what, almost every weekend? You could honestly just bunk with me. Since you’re always needing to be around in Inkopolis right? It’d be better than getting another place, since we could, I dunno, split the rent.” Surume leaned over to blink at Cassandra for a while, her eyebrows raised with a blank stare. Such suggestion also garnered the curious attention of Kaori and Eight, who quietly shifted their eyes to look on.

“Well…” Eyes ticking back and forth, Surume pushed her thumb and index under her chin, repeatedly squeezing her cheeks as she thought about it with great effort. Her expression popped back into shape just as quickly as it was smushed, having made her decision with a cheerful beaky grin. “…Only if you’re sure about it! It’s gonna be the best of both worlds since I get to hang out with you too!”

“Bet.” Cass smirked in response, affirming the deal. Turning towards the ocean again, Surume rocked back and forth with a contented hum as she shifted her legs about restlessly in the unmoving night, reinvigorated by the plan.

“Heheh. I’m excited now, just thinking about it.”

A silhouette stretched their arms up into the night sky.

“It’s getting late now. Let’s go home.”

As they parted ways in the wee hours of the night, a subtle pump could be seen in her step as she walked herself back to her apartment.

Returning to the assured solitude of her room, Cass threw herself onto her bed from the door, giddily kicking about wildly as she wrapped around her pillow tightly. She felt oddly manic; the sudden outburst leaving her worn out and panting breathlessly as she laid entangled in her own sheets.

Suppose it’s the lack of company that’s been slowly driving her insane.

With a few deep breaths to calm herself down, she closed her eyes and let the morning come.

Chapter 13: Chapter 12 - Tentative Local

Chapter Text

Chapter 12 - Tentative Local
“I remember having to… accommodate… Kiwi.”

The repetitive clacking of small plastic wheels could be heard echoing along the open-air balcony, stopping just before one of the many identical doorways towards the end of the hall.

“Did you hear? Kaori just got promoted! She just left with Callie and Marie yesterday - ‘following some kinda lead’, they said. I haven’t seen her look like that in ages,” a peppy voice chirped.

An apathetic side glance was all the other was willing to offer. “Good for her, I guess.”

With a faint rattle, the door swung open, and the light behind them poured into the room as they stood just before the entryway.

“Owh, we’re here!” With an excited gleam in her eyes, Surume stepped foot into the room, lugging a comically hefty travel bag behind her and a pillow in her arms as she looked around while Cass closed the door behind them.

“I thought you said you were gonna pack light.”

“Yeah! This is already pretty light.” A furrowed and raised eyebrow was returned in response, given the sheer size of her luggage.

“What, you think I’m gonna just bite people at random?”

“I’m prepared for when you do!” “Shut your f*ckin’ mouth!"

Chapter 14: Story Snippets II - Roommates

Chapter Text

Chapter 12.5 - Story Snippets II – Roommates

Day-to-Day
The usual weekdays roughly go as such: In the mornings, Cass gets up to take a quick rinse, putting on her extra kelp bands before tossing on some simple clothes (Usually a tee or a tank top with the occasional cropped jacket or the old sweater; shorts/legging shorts, a pair of hi-tops and the occasional shades) for the day, running a routine check on her Hydra and turf gear by her bedside. Surume has a much more busy routine - as soon as she’s awake enough to think, it’s time to piece together a trendy seasonal fit that would suit the vibe (Always paired with a hat!), hopping into the bathroom for a warm shower and a meticulous morning ritual as soon as Cass is out. Once fully dressed, she gets onto her laptop to skip through her lecture material just before her campus sessions. Before long, both of them are headed out the door, parting ways.

They tend to be outside for most of the day - Cass heads out for practice and matches with Voyager, while Surume goes for her in-class sessions and club activities in university. Both usually return in the evening, but sometimes Surume comes back early around noon due to a cancelled class, or Cass stays in and has no training that day. If that happens, they usually chill indoors or go outside to run errands and hang out if both are free at the same time. There’s also the occasional day where Surume instead puts on the yellow jacket and heads out, returning in the evening as her usual peppy yet easygoing self, albeit covered in ink and gashes.

By around dinnertime or later, the two are chatting with each other freely, trading their day’s events and catching up with some light talk as they unwind. Late nights are quietly spent on their beds, where little is shared between them beyond the occasional meme and funny nudibranch video, themselves kept awake by the media on their phones until they fall asleep.

Lazy Inklings
Stirred by the soft daylight on her eyelids, Cass tossed her blanket aside as she slid out of bed, getting up with a tired groan as she came to her senses. The unkempt octoling pulled the blanket back over her mattress, pulling her tangled tentacles into place before shuffling over towards in the unlit end of the apartment. Out from the corner of her eye as she rubbed them clean was Surume, still snoozing away on the upper bunk half-covered by a blanket as she walked past. Well, it was a free day, so…

In the kitchen, Cass tore open a sachet of instant powder and mixed the contents into a cup of piping hot water. Bringing the hot drink back into the main room, she waited for it to cool, filling the space with the warm aroma of coffee.

Ah, coffee. The lifeblood and saviour of Cass’s hours, she’d fall back asleep until noon if it wasn’t for it.

siiiiiip.

With a dose of caffeine and warmth waking her up from the inside, Cassandra went up the ladder to check on the mostly-asleep inkling, nudging the unmoving girl as she continued to sip on her drink. “C’mon, get up, sleepyhead. Let’s get some matches started!” Surume subconsciously tucked her head, retreating from the light and into the covers as she let out a disoriented groan of denial.

“noooooo…”

Still drowsy, the inkling curled up further on the bed, balling herself tightly in the sheets like some kind of homesick snail in an attempt to defer the morning.

“Whaddya want?” Her outwards tone was not a friendly one, spoken in a brash, gruff and informal manner and served alongside a hard glare. The social disconnect between them was immediately made clear, as if talking to her was like swinging at a hornet’s nest.

“Sorry, we just wanted to see if you were playing next, haha.” The nervous laughter hoped to lighten the mood, though mostly intended for themselves.

“Well, if you don’t wanna talk, wanna fight? Let’s see who’s better!” Though no longer glaringly hostile, Cassandra’s display as she stood up was still best described as ‘friendly-menacing’ — proudly brandishing her Hydra with one hand and grinning madly with her unusual shark-like teeth at the suggestion of a friendly spar. One thing screamed its certainty in the back of their minds: If talking with her was not like swinging at a hornet’s nest, scuffling with her most definitely would be.

Left to herself once again, Cass sat back down in disappointed boredom. “Bah. And here I thought I was gonna have some fun.” A stiff figure in black stood by her, sighing loudly to let her know he watched the unruly interaction from a slight distance.

“Quit scaring people, Nessie. Can’t believe I have to deal with this.”

*Cass likes to wear a rugged, boisterous toothy grin. Suppose she just feels the need to display her teeth in an unhinged act of showmanship, even though she is sane. Mostly.

Small Talk
“gaaaaah…! so… hot…”

Cass laid flat on her back as she weakly flopped around. Her limbs were sprawled outwards as she aired out her top, herself still sweating profusely on her bed as she laid in her innerwear.

“why is it so f*ckin hot…” Cass panted, cooked by the languid noon. On the other hand, Surume was completely unbothered by the warm spring-summer air, barely breaking a sweat in a light house sweater and shorts as she busily fiddled with a colourful three-by-three cube in her hands. How was she fine with this?

“Temperatures change with the seasons too, y’know.”

A single finger was feebly lifted in dazed defiance. “An Octarian… never backs down…”

“Lemme get the air-con before you melt.” Cass lifted her heavy head, watching Surume reach for a remote she hadn’t bothered to figure out earlier as she continued her limb-locked battle with the heat. “Air-con? Whatever…”

With the air-con now on and running, the room was restored to slightly below room temperature, with it Cass’ ability to think and stop herself from evaporating.

“Phew~ much better.” Wiping off the sweat from her brow, Cass propped herself upright on the bedside to slowly regain her strength, the old bedframe complaining with a low groan from the shifting weight. All the waiting in place gave her time to think, her drifting thoughts spoken loud and proud.

“Y’know Kiwi, while our races did share this turf some time ago…It’s been long enough that even small things are so different between us now.”

The focused inkling curiously looked up from the cube, having almost sorted each face by colour. “Like what?”

“Well, do y’all like to be touchy-feely with each other to say hi?” Surume nodded with intrigue, waggling the small tuft atop her head as she reaffirmed their hunch. “Us Octarians don’t do that. Touching others is just something we don’t really do, except for, like, family and stuff? Also, we don’t wear shoes indoors unless in camp. That still weirds me out…”

“Huh - Eight’s pretty okay with touching us, though. Owh, by the way, she says that it’s rude to use your tentacles as hands.”

“What, like this?” The octoling’s lengthy side tentacle moved towards an upheld pen, showing off its dexterity by grabbing onto said pen and drawing small shapes in the air.

“Haven’t heard of that one! That rule’s probably just hers,” she gloated, somehow proud of that.

Surume’s eyes lit up as curiosities entered her mind. “Oh! Oh! Do you all like to decorate stuff? With like glitter and confetti? Because Octo Canyon was pretty glam by the time I was there, and it honestly could put some of us to shame.”

“Nnnnot really. Some of the last few batches did, though - something about a new training program, I think…” Must be Callie, Surume thought to herself. “What was the soldier life like?”

“Noisy.” Cass gave a light chuckle and a broad serrated smirk at the fond recollection. “We would would get into fights or other stupid stuff all the time, so there was always something to talk about. They gave the first few batches and us elites some choices - later on, they told us that we just couldn’t be picky about our stuff.”

Surume raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the new perspective. “I thought there would be more of your kind in the military - given how effective Octoling soldiers were.”

“Nah. We were pretty expensive compared to other Octarians ‘cause of our equipment, training and education. Even without the - uhh, (need for mental stimulation)? Most of us got put into engineering or, uhh, (logistics), since it’s easier to just feed an army of clones.” Following a short silence, Cass decided to turn the question on her roommate.

“Whuddabout you? Being an Agent?”

“An Agent?” Surume looked away to briefly contemplate, eyes widened in thought. “Well… it’s pretty cool! But it’s not always as hype as it seems.”

*If Kiwi hadn’t turned the air-con on when she did, Cassie would have probably melted, dried up into dust and gotten blown away by the wind. Probably.

“You’ve seen her, right? What was her name? Cassiopeia or Octogirl or something, whatever, I dunno —“

“Who does she think she is?”

The tenseness remained between their shoulders for a little bit as they walked along in silence. “Tch. I was gonna tear ‘em apart,” Cass grunted, having barely contained the intense urge to beat them up. Despite this, Surume let go of the grudge similarly kept in her fists to pat Cass on her shoulder.

“Nah, that would have just proved them right.”

Recollection of Past Self I - A Dream
'I didn’t have to think about much.'

Scanning the hall aimlessly as she got up, her eyes wandered towards a group of her kin, attracted by the sound of them boisterously egging each other on as they competed and exerted themselves with push-ups. One traded look was all it took for her to join them.

“Y’all doing push-ups!? Bet!” Jumping onto her feet with a grin, she quickly dropped to the floor near them, eager to participate in their game of endurance as she caught up to their counts with ruthless enthusiasm.

Receiving the scheduled delivery for her company at the designated drop point, Cass took a curious peek in one of the meal packets as she wheeled the care package in behind her.

‘(We’ll be eating this for another supply rotation, so it’d better be good.)’ The package crinkled softly in her grasp as she took a peek inside.

‘(…Same set of rations again. sh*t.)’ A wry sigh escaped her lips as she lugged the delivery along, suddenly feeling thrice as heavy once she knew its contents.

Back inside with the rest of the supplies, the brash kelp-banded octoling dropped a box of the loaded packages onto the company table with a loud slam, looking around to meet their eyes with a half-assed, half-eyed smirk.

Before the message could even leave her mouth, a cacophony of bemoaning and loud sighs had already begun to fill the hall. Cass simply leaned forwards, pressing her hands onto the desk with a sharpened grin as she watched several kinds of protest get tossed around.

“Well? Are y’all gonna eat it? Or shall I just have ‘em for myself?”

With softer exasperated grumbles all around, the soldiers grouped up to collect their rations, making sure to mutter some complaints and curses to some supply team out there as they did so.

Despite the constant clashing and objections, this kind of sass, temper and camaraderie was the form of their bond; traded in the form of roughhousing and hazing and dunking unsuspecting people into tubs and so on. It wasn’t quite sweet words or gentle gestures, but they were all at least cooperative in trading blow for blow and not splatting each other on the spot; and that could be considered good enough as a company.

(Happier times…)

Kitbasher (Iveri, Cass)
The loud clattering of a rolling metal shutter noisily gave way to Cass and Eight’s shadows, the latter promptly walking ahead into the unlit garage to set things up. Coming back out of the waking workshop with the lights now on, Eight circled over to Cass to continue pushing a trolley of broken goods left beside them.

“You can just call me Iveri, by the by.”

The workshop was filled with the low thrum of running vents and the lingering scent of heated iron. Cass curiously peered over at the collection of metal parts in the trolley, then at the ‘projects’ littered all over the workshop, each one less understandable than the last. It would seem both knew the value of such a material, but for differing reasons. “So what do you plan to do with this scrap?” Eight, now named Iveri, gave an unusually smug scoff at her curiosity, as if expecting such a question.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, dome girl.”

As Iveri wheeled her new ‘project’ parts to her workbench, Cass loitered about the place.
“What are these thingamajigs? Boomsticks?” Picking up one of the constructs around the place, Cass inspected the weapon-shaped mass of pipe, frame and wires with her scratched black fringe tentacles, slapping it against her palm like a bat.

“Ah! Don’t touch those!” Startled, Iveri hurried over to pluck the prototype from the distracted octoling’s hands, nervously running her eyes over it to check for damages.
The make and wiring of the devices were far from simple, giving off a dubious air. “Eh, no need to be so antsy about it. …Are they bombs or something? Since you’re protecting them like that.”

Iveri looked up with mild annoyance and a small flick of her tentacles, as if she’d been gravely misunderstood. “Improvised pipe bombs? No no no, they’re a mechanical work of art!” Turning away to return the fixed project back to its place in the organised mess, the uncharacteristically proud octoling continued to elaborate on her side gig.

“See, I like to take broken parts and refurbish them or make them into something new, like weapon designs and custom kits. Sometimes people like what I make, and I sell it to them as a commission!”

“Won’t you get in trouble or something up here if someone uses it and gets hurt?”

The pink-tentacled octo turned back around with a sly sigh, playfully engaged with the question as soon as it reached her studded ears. “Safety? Aww, that’s no fun, hon. Why bother with laws and safety when you get the chance to skip it here?” Her smile only grew wider as she reached over to pat her current project, a heavily modified short-barrel E-liter outfitted with external tubing, a carbonator, and parts recognisably ripped from blasters and Aerosprays. The rearranged amalgam bore no similarity to its contributors, instead a bastard child given an intense, intent-driven form. A sticky note with the name ‘Incen Ink’ was attached onto the side of the project, sticking outwards like a shrivelled leaf. “This bad girl can melt targets completely with a single drop of its carbonated ink. No way it’ll see a regular match.” Impressed, Cassandra leaned back, raising her eyebrows in approving interest at Iveri’s ambitious feat. “Not bad. I can get behind something like that.”

“I really hope that I can get into Forge’s R&D program with this,” Iveri sighed, lifting her palms up to her shoulders to pronounce her pouty shrug. “Squidforce was already looking for me, but they would probably want me to make it squid-shaped. Ew.”

“Well, in the meantime, a really generous anonymous buyer has been paying me well for some of my designs! You want one?” Whilst remaining attentive to Iveri’s passionate rambling, one stray point clearly remained in Cass’ mind.

'(What kinda buyer would be waging wars nowadays?)'

*Iveri: By the way, what happened to your uniform skirt?
Cass: Skirt? Oh, right… just wore the pants. Kept riding up as I ran in them.

Salmon Runner (Handling Salmon in Suspicious Circ*mstances)
Surume: “Owh, I just like to do this since I get paid lots just to scuffle.”
Cassandra: “So you’re good at this? Well, I bet I’m better!”

Within the boundaries of the site, Cassandra quickly found herself in her element: highly keen on the ultraviolence, culling swathes of lesser salmonids, and being in the midst of the mayhem; whereas Surume is fast, skilled and focused in dispatching priorities, all while maintaining a positive attitude. (Perhaps a little too focused.) Between the two of them, constant tears were being made in each incoming salmonid backline.

“Gahah! Who wants some more!?” Loudly beckoning and taunting, Cass was quickly thrust up into the air and carelessly splatted by a Maws from below, ending her five-second-long reign of terror. Flopping around in her life buoy, a precise charger shot revived the octo as quickly as she went down.

“Pay attention next time!” Assertively perched atop high ground with a charger over her shoulder, Surume went back to sniping off Steelheads. She had a strikingly focused and fluid attitude in the heated skirmish of battle, as if it were an improvised dance - one that caught Cass’ attention with slight dumbstruck awe.

‘(Wow. She’s kinda… cool, actually. Well, kinda, I guess…)’

Jumping back as the wave clocked out, Cassandra stood up from the ink, wiping off a bit of sweat with her arm as she gave Surume a playful grin. “Still kicking? You’re gonna have to replace your batteries at some point!” “Heh, like I’d give up that easily! I've still got more Power Eggs than you!” Surume excitedly replied with a flashy flourish of her loaned brella, eager to continue their full-force competition with the next wave’s arrival. "Oh, it's on!"

From the basket’s side, one of their coworkers nervously watched the two dive into the oncoming fray again as they pulled their helmet down with quaking hands worriedly, practically squashing their head underneath it. Their eyes swirled amidst the chaos, irises rattling like a drunkard in a spinning teacup.

No, no, nonono! If this keeps going, the eggs will be dropped at the shore again, which means we’d have to carry them back to the basket while those scary salmonids could easily swim up and splat us from behind… I can’t even look at those horrible, terrible fish! Why did I choose to take this job!?

Between the cries for help and sound of mismanaged carnage that filled their ears and mind to the brim, a quick tap on the shoulder pulled the intern out of their fretful lamenting, delivered by Kiwi as she dashed by to give them a few words of courage. The sludge-coated inkling directed pointed their gloved finger towards a small life buoy calling for help, surrounded by a railway of steel-eels and a phalanx of scrappers. “Go get them, champ!” A reassuring pat on the back was all that was left of the seasoned runner as she dashed away, the salmonids’ eyes now focused upon the abandoned inkling with a fearsome intelligence.

The reassurance simply provided anything but courage as they looked upon their encroaching fate.

*While both work well individually as their teammates will cover their flaws, Cass plus Kiwi results in too little coordination, as Cassie is a shoreline splatter while Kiwi follows where the action is, leaving the other two teammates wordlessly in the dust - especially when the others aren’t familiar with SR.

Optional - Weak skin (Kiwi/Cass)
Kiwi picks at her peeled skin when she’s bored
Band-aids

Optional - Frappe
Coffee orders
Coffee with a dash of milk, and frappes
Don’t you get tired of the same drink?
Ain’t picky if it’s good.
You’re really like your orders - flashy, full of toppings and really sw-
Forget it.

Optional - Music
You’re always listening to something. Are those comms?
Care to listen?
… okay.
When I listen to music, I feel like I’m free from my worries for a while.

Lemon Fruit
Surume slid up behind her roommate, eagerly awaiting their attention from behind their shoulder.

“Hey gamer.”

“Gah! sh*t.” Cass jumped in place, cursing at Surume’s unassumingly sneaky presence. Turning around to respond, the octo was instead greeted by a yellow-green oblong shape that was not Kiwi, held in front of her face as Kiwi peeked out from behind it.

“Check this out! It’s a fruit. You like fruit, right~?” Those words in that order made Surume’s sudden request sound a little fishy, but she decided to hear it out. …A fruit is a fruit, right?
Feeling the curious waxy porous fruit now in her hand, Cass brought it up to her mouth…

…and took a large bite out of it.

It didn’t take long for her to process the sensation: the raw sourness alone was horrid enough, but the bitter rind compounded to the lemon’s face-puckering, skin-shrivelling acidity.

“Ghk!”

It was enough to throw Cass off balance, accidentally swallowing some of the pulp juice as she coughed up the rest. (May she rest in peace.)

“Mmgh! *cough* AcK.. *choking noises* Ugh! *koff* blech, agh-eyack! *retching*”

The pulp may have been spat out, but the awful burning aftertaste reached the back of her throat. Finally clearing off most of the sour bitterness from her tongue with frantic coughing and plenty of swigs of water, the octoling looked up at Surume with tears welling in her squinted eyes and a few words to hoarsely convey her irritation towards the cheekily innocent inkling, who was absolutely not sorry for what just happened.

“What…the hell…!? *cough*”

Hobbies (Eight/Cass)
Eight collects hobbies like candies.

Nestled in the confines of a small walled side enclosure to her house, the gentle-natured octoling walked along the lush green patches, checking on her plants with a small hum as she weeded and watered the garden of flowers and vines. This morning ritual was a comfort to the once-soldier, who found the routine relaxing and rewarding.

Noticing a figure near the gate, Iveri looked up to see Surume’s freckled yellow tentacles swaying as she enthusiastically waved from outside. Next to her was Cass, who was simply resting her arms over the gate, the both of them happening to stop by on a whim.

“Hiya, Iv!”

“Hi, Sumi! Hi, Cass!”

The scruffy kelp-tangled girl flashed a quick toothy grin. “You sure do a lot of boring stuff in your free time. Why don’t you join us for a quick scrap?” “Yeah! Come join us, it’ll be fun!” Surume even pointed dramatically in the general direction they were headed with jazz hands in a valiant effort to convince her friend.

“No thanks. I’m not really fond of that,” Placing the emptied watering can to fill under a running tap, Iveri placed a hand on her hip as she took the time to ponder about what she had come to prefer, all while overlooking her healthy and well-populated garden.

“Tinkering, gardening, poetry, yoga… It all brings me peace of mind.”

Mildly perplexed, Cass looked around the unusually colourful sight and serene environment that went further beyond the viridian corridor. “It’s too peaceful up here already. Guess a bit more couldn’t hurt, though.”

Recollection of Past Self II - Replayed Memories
'Life then wasn’t all fun and games.'

“(We’re back.)” Announcing their return, the weathered soldiers entered the cool and damp corridor. Their worn equipment bore scars both new and old, evidently damaged and repaired several times over.

A tall octoling with kelp braided into his mohawk looked over impassively. “(Ah… You’re not dead, huh?)”

“(Tch. You wish!)” Her brutish, no-nonsense attitude fazed no one around her, plenty used to her mannerisms by now. Most of the survivors continued to rest or prepare along the rocky walls and tarp covers, nestled between makeshift expedition gear and bags of scavenged materials as the returnees joined them in the base.

While her group members split off and offloaded their equipment, Cassandra headed towards a small tarp shelter at the end of the camp. Inside sat a massive octopus larger than herself, their skin blotchy and dulled by experience. While too large to stay mobile or in a humanoid form, Oracle’s piercing green eyes remained sharp as ever as they rested on a worn cloth mat.

“(Welcome back, Murkwater. Anything of note?)”

“(Got supplies, enough for two shifts. Valk is still nowhere to be found.)”

“(Hmph. You said you'd be back for dinner.)”

“(Maybe next time, Granma.)” With a small fond chuckle, the senior general turned their powered lenses back on before looking back at the wall, where intelligence had been carefully gathered and mapped together.

For now, they had chosen to station themselves in the dilapidated, dark and humid hadal tunnels, dimly lit by pressurised reinforced lights and the cranklamps on their belts. Without any certainty of tomorrow, the days and moments would pass as a blend of fleeting memories — from climbing up rusted pipeyards and walking across broken catwalks in the local superstructure, to returning with supplies and rare finds to brag about, and the ‘sleep’ shifts spent snacking on scavenged rations and coffee powder. Watching filtered water drip into her flask. Spending minuteless hours sifting through pockets of mud with her scarred hands, looking for crabs and shells to eat. Blindly failing to catch those that scuttled away to her right, out of her vision.

That’s right. She couldn’t see from that eye anymore. The fresh wound was still fresh and bandaged, delivered by a sharp rebar fragment from not too long ago.

Life had changed. Gone were the days of little consequence, now replaced with the weight of leadership, the challenges of survival and a constant vigilance held between her gritted teeth. Even the smallest of cuts or the slightest gap in awareness could cause disastrous perils, leaving little room to let her guard down.

Kept grounded only by each others’ boots touching the floor, the errant survivors grew close to one another like a family through their shared burdens, taking turns sleeping on recycled bedding and cardboard beds in the dark.

To her, this is what life had become.

Blink, and you’ll miss it.

Junk Food
'So hungy…'

During a rather boring afternoon that moved along at an uncooperative slug’s pace, Cass hungrily paced around the lazy apartment while Surume laid on her bed with her head dangling off the ledge, keeping to her own devices to stave off the boredom.

“Hey, Kiwi. Do we still have any snacks?”

The bored inkling was preoccupied with picking at the loose parts of her dead skin, breaking her focused stare to look up at the sluggishly slouchy octoling.

“Huh? We finished them yesterday.”

“This sucks…” With another groan, Cassandra slinked back into the kitchen for yet another round of fruitless searching as the bored inkling returned to quietly peeling the weak shedding skin off her hands.

Just as she began to browse the novelties of the internet, a faint noise began to echo from the kitchen. Rustling, almost like leaves, but with a synthetic kind of crispness to it. Are snacks supposed to crinkle?

*Crinkle*

Her ears twitched as the odd noise grew more and more distinct. “Huh?” ‘I swear I ate the last packet…’

Thoroughly curious, Surume got up to investigate the kitchen. Waking to the door, she found a stout blackish octopus with its back towards her, munching on a crinkly, and somewhat… reflective… snack?

*Crinkle, crinkle*

“Hey Cassie, what are you eating?”

“…”

Suddenly aware of her roommate, swim-form Cassandra froze in place, slowing her audible crinkly chewing to a halt. Beads of sweat began to collect on her mantle as she remained still, her back still facing Surume.

“…Crac-kers…?” The cagey response triggered an innate suspicion in Surume. A nearby trash can also didn’t help her case, helping the suddenly cautious girl put two and two together.

“What. is. in. your. mouth.” The octo’s sweat accelerated as the wary inkling approached to take a look, turning away to hide her stuffed beak from Surume’s vision. Firmly catching the octo between her hands, Surume lifted the guilty being up close to meet her stern stare and looming pressure, still awaiting an answer.

Nervously refusing to comply, Cass slipped out of her grasp, quickly compressing her form down to the floor to escape with a reflexive superjump.

“Hey! Wa-“

A loud, blunt thud echoed through the walls and floor of the upper story with the impact. Wonder what they felt up there.

Remaining stuck to the ceiling for a short while before slowly peeling off, the swim-form octo fell back down to the floor with a wet slap, out cold from the impact. A shiny half-chewed plastic wrapper fell next to her not long after.

With the unconscious octo at her feet, Surume picked Cass up into her arms like one of her many plush toys with a shrug and brought her out of the kitchen, figuring that it was time to head out and buy some snacks.

*Cass: Kiwi keeps buying weird snacks. Last time I checked, she was casually chewin’ on a six-foot long gummy worm, which is now just chilling in our fridge.

Puffin Pickup (Penguin/Cass)
Upon a sidewalk heading out from the plaza, Cass accompanied Penguin on his routine post-practice errand, which was also on the way to her apartment. With small talk to keep them company, they soon found themselves standing outside the large walls of a school in wait.

“…Sooo, yeah! I’m always leaving to pick her up after our sessions, heh.”

“Huh - I always thought you‘d be at an arcade or something.” A small snort was given to signify how wrong she was.

“…Do you have any siblings, Nessie?” Cassandra hesitated slightly as her violet-lined eyes darted around, seemingly caught off guard by the question.

“D—uhh, no…” A brief stint of silence later, a young girl in a brown cardigan over a school uniform approached Penguin, slowing their approach and standing slightly afar as they noticed the unfamiliar battle-worn octoling standing next to him.

“Ah! This is Puffin, my lil’ sis! She’s our Mini; Voyager’s sub and fourth for Rainmaker and Clam Blitz - well, when she’s free at least,” Puffin’s starry lilac eyes and long uncut tentacles were partially hidden behind her blood-brother’s arm, only as tall as his shoulder. “Puffin, this is Cassandra. You wanted to meet her, right?” The fourteen-year-old girl gave a small nod as she peeked out again. As shy as she was, she admired Cass; having heard about her grand exploits from Penguin’s stories.

“C’mon, Puffin! No need to be shy!” With a little bit of egging on, the inkling was dragged out in front of Cass, where the two silently traded awkward stares.

“…”
“…”

‘(Uhh… How do you talk to children?)’ Cass could feel a tiny bead of sweat roll down her head as she sheepishly pondered behind her proud sneer.

“Umm… Hi. Wanna play sometime?” Quietly and wordlessly, Puffin nodded twice to get her message across. Cute, yet very cautious and wary - Cass could relate, in a somewhat doting manner. Despite the aloof first impressions, both seemed to get along well, perfectly comfortable in quietly respecting each other’s presence.

Melting Touch
Aa she spent more time around Cassandra, Surume would continually observe Cassie’s habits. Namely, the fact that Cass was completely fine with shoulder taps and rough pats on the back, but uncomfortably pulled herself away from any soft brushes with surfaces or people.

Walking up to her roommate, Surume held her open arms out towards them, fully extended.

“Cassie. You want a hug?”

“What for?” Cassandra’s apprehension gruffly showed itself at the sudden request, in the form of a wary glance.

Surume tilted her head in confusion, waving her outstretched arms around a little as she kept the offer open. “Just feel like it.”

Despite her hesitance, Cassandra approached Surume’s arms, freezing up with her hands tightly at her sides as she was pulled into the embrace. A brief awkward pause led to a moment of silence as Surume’s head rested on her shoulder.

In that moment, her stiff hands relaxed.

In that moment, her body sank into the embrace, and her eyes began to fall shut.

In that moment, her guard was let down.

And just like that, the moment ended as quickly as it began.

Refreshed, Surume let go of the brief hug with a cheerful smile, immediately alerted to the sound of a small sniffle with a small gasp.

“...Cassie?”

Cassandra’s deflated breath ached with a tone of longing as she brushed it aside. It ached of starvation; of a person given a taste of a basic necessity they never had.

“I’m alright. I’m… just not used to it.”

Voyager’s Outing / Getting Teased
Perhaps if Nessie had her wits about her more often, she’d less likely be the target of VOYAGER’s jokes.

“I’m telling you, she’s just a roommate!”

Penguin poked his head out to look at Cass. He lifted his tinted goggles to reveal his violet eyes, silently staring at her with rapidly bobbing eyebrows and a gratingly smug sneer that just begged to be punched in.

“Oh, sure, and they were roommates. Anything else?” Sundew’s unexpectedly snarky interjection dug into Cass from behind, causing her lips to twitch like a cooked bonito flake.

“Shut up! One more word and I’ll kill you.” Her face was fully lilac by now, smoking like a steamed bun as her hands balled up into white-knuckled fists.

“Miss Frontline Hydra’s got the hots.” A third strike from the stoic Wister, to really send the message home amidst her repeated denials.

Cass put on a haughty prideful look before looking back at them, thiiiiis close to snapping. “Pff, whatever - but hey! I’ve got excellent awareness, okay!? You’ve —” Her boisterous rebuttal was cut short by a face-first collision into a streetlamp. Pretty sure she heard a snort, a snicker and a chuckle as she rubbed the sore spot between her eyes.

“(Why you… Outta my damn way!)” Thoroughly insulted, Cassandra drove her leg into the streetlamp with brute force, causing it to rattle and shudder as it was struck. The attack on irony left both combatants wounded, as the denting strike also struck a soft nerve in Cass’ leg.

“GHK! Ssssssss, gaaaah…”

“…Are you alright?” Somewhat startled, Cass quickly turned around with her usual broad, toothy grin. “It’s fine! I’m fine.” Her reassurance was as smooth as sandpaper, not including the crippled wobbling and slight bleeding from her mouth.

*(The three of them mostly ignored her reassurance, instead busily inspecting the damaged streetlight much to her wounded chagrin. They couldn’t help but feel sorry for the mortally wounded streetlamp, its solid base dented firmly in the shape of the impact.)
Penguin: They were so young too…
Cass: SERIOUSLY! ARE YOU TAKING THE PISS!?!? I’M THE ONE THAT’S HURT HERE!
Penguin: You said you were fine.
Wister: Just walk it off.

Sundew
“Alright! That was a good start!“

Returning to the lobby in victorious stride, Cass, Penguin, Sundew and Wister waited around for the next match with proud smirks and grins. An early win streak had put everyone into high spirits, ready to continue their onslaught of a daily session.

*BZZ—BZZ. BZZ—BZZ. BZZ—BZZ.* A loud repetitive alarm preemptively interrupted their boastful chatter, its buzzes and ringing coming from Sundew’s pocket.

“…Hold the queue.” With a lifted hand to signal to the team, the deadpan inkling pulled out her phone to answer the quick call, putting the sleek, high-end device under her bangs and against her ear. “Yes, Pa?”

While she said nothing on call, it was clear that her irritation was building from behind her cap and collar. As she listened, her eyes progressed from a unbothered stare to a miffed blinking to a bitter glare. Eventually, she hung up without a word, letting her unfocused glare do the talking as she shoved the phone back into her pocket.

“Sigh… Gotta go. See you guys later.” With a frustrated yet restrained huff, Sundew hastily packed her gear away, taking her resentful leave. Wister and Penguin seemingly nodded in understanding, letting her go in silence.

As she left, Cassandra raised an eyebrow in nonchalant confusion. The Sundew that left them was stiff as a board, whereas the Sundew that was with them moments ago was modest and serene.

“What’s up with Her Stuffiness?” Penguin and Wister traded side glances before nodding in unison at the sassy remark.

“Actually…”

“Sundew’s real name is Ros Solis,” Wister simply explained. “Her family’s a line of financial managers that’s been exclusively working for the Houzuki family for generations. The kind of rich high-class folk that deal with even richer people.”

The no-nonsense leader let out a dissatisfied huff, swiping his nose with his thumb. “Like her siblings, she’s been raised to be like the people around her. Guess how that went.”

*Penguin: Look at these old childhood photos of Sundew I found!
Cass: Oooh. Are these hydrozoans? I’ve heard of their lethal touch.
Wister: Looks like a pretty serious protection detail. Seems like they’d follow and protect her everywhere they could.
Penguin: Huh, she’s been wearing long sleeves since forever…
Sundew: ……Where did you get those?

Pudding
'do not eat Kiwi’s pudding. worst mistake of my life'

“sh*tsh*tsh*t, sh*t…” Cursing under her breath at a speed that would make most rappers jealous, Cassandra scrambled to hide behind a doorway in silent terror.

“Cassieeee?” She didn’t dare to look, but she could hear her roommate’s menacing approach. She could feel the glowing stare shift from room to room as it scoured the silent apartment.

The deathly stare soon entered the room where she hid. Surume’s luminous yellow eyes were unblinking, behind the glowing stare a fanatic intent that would cause Cass to reflexively hold her breath, pressed up against the wall. Surume slowly walked away from the doorway, silently and methodically searching each nook for the fearful octoling.

‘(…Maybe I can get away…)’ Just as she began to creep to the doorway, she could feel her shoulder press against a small switch.

Click.

In an instant, the huge circular pair of eyes snapped towards her, piercing through the dark like a cat’s unblinking pair of eyes. She could very well kiss her stealthy escape goodbye.

“Well, I’ll be taking my leave now!” Playing it cool, Cassandra made for a mad dash for the exit; her nervous laugh cut short by an even faster lunge that grabbed her by the shoulder and slowly dragged her back in.

The words spoken into her ear were calm and clear. “Cassandra. Did you eat my pudding?”

“Nnnooo…” Lying under this sort of pressure with a mouthful of the pudding in question was a feat, honestly.

“Try again.” It was now an Agent she was talking to, someone who wouldn’t let go of her so easily.

“Y-yes! I’m so-“

“Good.” With unprecedented strength, Cass was rapidly lifted off the ground by the waist. The unfortunate soul was driven up, over and back down on her head in a clean replay-worthy suplex, left crumpled with her shoulders on the floor and her legs folded over her head.

*Later
Surume: Cassie! I got some kiwi-flavoured pudding. It tayshtes really good, you want-mm. Some?
Cassandra: Ooh! Wait, uhh… n-no thanks.

Cool Plant (Cool Plant.) (Eight/Kiwi/Cass)
Heading somewhere, Cassandra and Surume tailed behind a wordy and verbose Iveri, who was busy monologuing and going on a mushy appreciation spiel as they walked.

“…like, everything’s just so beautiful, you know? What we’ve been given. How we get to see and experience colours and sounds and a romantic sunset every day and…”

Naturally, hearing enough words in a single sentence made the Surume’s krill-operated brain stop working. Succumbing to her short attention span, her eyes began to wander away from where they were headed, trailing off to someplace more interesting. The same could be said for Cass, who had lost interest by the third sappy sentence and was now more focused on dribbling along a small pebble between her boots than anything.

“…and it’s all so pretty! Don’t you girls agree?” Gleefully expecting a response, Iveri spun around to find the carefree inkling and curious octoling not anywhere close behind her, instead thoroughly enamoured by a small dandelion poking out of the concrete walkway a few paces back.

“Cool plant.” “Cool plant.”

“…I think it’s a flower.” “Yeah, maybe.”

Iveri let out a miffed scoff as Cassandra curiously prodded at the tiny lone flower. “Girls. Are you even listening?”

“Yeah.” “Mhm. Yup.” Their eyes didn’t even shift to look at her as they shrugged off her question, still very much focused on the unmoving yellow plant in front of them.

*Iveri: I swear, these two cephies…

Recollection of Past Self III - Bygone Memories
'I can’t go home anymore.'

Once again, Cass woke to the sound of boots scuffling on cement and the clinking of metal on metal.

This dream again. How many times had she seen this play out? Seeing the maroon tentacles, watching her siblings-in-arms playfully count push-ups, joining them. It had all begun the same as it always did. This unchanging dream she woke to, however, was the most vivid and lucid one by far, where it oftentimes was no more than a flickering vision kept front of her eyes.

Eye. Her right eye is now scarred grey, with a permanently dilated oval pupil. As she reminded herself of what had been, the right third of her vision slowly cut off.

Trading glances with her kin again, Cass instead consciously got up to explore the vicinities of the once-present memory. The air in the base was stuffy and incomplete, while their voices and faces remained unchanging.

“Tetri. Stop f*cking around and get the food.”

That voice. She always followed that order, and here she would again. Lucidly following out of habit, the soldier walked out to perform the mundane task. Receiving the delivery, she dragged the weighty packages along with a droll sigh, not even bothering to check the goods as she pulled them back in.

‘(It’s always rations. No need to bother…)’

Back inside, she dropped a set of the rations onto the desk with a thud. As she placed the packaged rations onto the desk, she noticed that something was a little off. The packages would slosh around as they were held. A putrid scent of mud leaked from the packets, to which she decided to investigate by tearing one open.

The stench of mould and rotted fish inside was enough to make her gag and throw up on the spot. She could feel the regurgitated burning acid spill from her throat, but nothing hit the floor.

“What’s wrong, Tetri? Sick of the food?”

Recovering from the sickening smell, the elite peered back into the half-opened packet to find it filled with rotted waste, hardly recognisable edible matter festered with squirming feeble maggots and greasy, vomit-like sludge. The others around her were oblivious to the smell or sight, staring curiously at her abject horror.

Then, she noticed something as she looked upon their faces. How they all shared the same lightless, lifeless stare.

How they all looked towards her.

“Murkwater! There’s too many injuries; not enough supplies or food. What do we do?” Reflexively turning towards the urgent call from behind, she suddenly found herself standing in the damp hadal tunnels, in front of wounded and sickly survivors.

There was once a time where she didn’t have to worry about shelters, beds and working respawners. But one thing led to another, and now, amongst ruin and isolation, the next accident would be the last. As terrified as she was, she forcefully swallowed her fears and approached them without an answer, hiding it behind a small stern huff.

An immense burden began to weigh down on her head as she approached, its clean knife-like edge pressed sharply into the back of her neck.

The memories of struggle would flow as her pulse quickened. Memories of self-sacrifices; memories of futile decisions that lead to the loss of kin one way or another. She remembered how she would frequently return to the base alone, slumping against the wall in the silence. How she led more and more to their unburied graves time and time again with faked certainty. The memories of struggle would flow, until all their bodies had been scattered around her.

The sea of nameless bodies now laid in front of her in a deafening silence, among them the parts and pieces of those she once recognised. And yet, she could only stare upon the ocean in her shadow, witnessing wordlessly from her remaining sight.

“Murk…wa…ter.”

From the trail crawled a young soldier, who had soaked bandages wrapped around what remained of him. His eyes met hers with the same pupils as he latched onto her leg with trembling hands, his breath shaky from desperation and exhaustion.

“Am I going to die?”

Their begging question was followed by a helpless stare that looked up at hers. One that fearfully, pleadingly, hopefully dreamed for a future. Any future.

She could only stare back in silent despair.

As the soldier’s form collapsed and joined the bodies around them, she was reminded of the sweet lie still stuck in her throat to this day. Perhaps she was the unfortunate one.

She said nothing then. She said nothing now.

Emulation
Octopi are exceptional mimics. Whether intentional or not…

“Huh? What’s so funny?” Iveri let out another lighthearted snicker as she continued to look at a confused and annoyed Cassandra. Cass let out a small grunt as she dismissively looked away, still having yet to receive an answer. “Seriously…”

“Have you been around Sumi a lot lately?”

“Huh?” Perplexed and clueless, Cass curiously looked around the place, failing to find what tipped them off.

“Your tentacles.” Unbeknownst to her, the octoling’s bangs were curling up and smoothening into the shape of a bob cut in a subconscious effort. Eight had also previously seen it coloured in yellow and white freckles, a far cry from her always unkempt kelp-matted and full-black tentacles.

Realising with the help of Eight’s front-facing camera, Cass’ face contorted into a disgusted grimace, as photogenic as a moray eel for just a second. The folded tentacles were quickly pried and pulled back into shape at the finding. “How long has it been like that!?” The sight deeply unsettled Cass, who was still somewhat braced from the sight.

“Don’t worry,” Eight couldn’t help but giggle a bit as she comforted Cass’ mishap. “It took me a while to stop straightening my tentacles too.”

*Eight had this exact fact pointed out to her by Cap’n Cuttlefish, when she first stayed with Three, and her tentacles kept straightening and turning green. It caused her to nearly die from embarrassment at the time.

*Cass' tentacles aren't quite well behaved – They're long, unkempt and somewhat scraggly from having gone uncut for a long time, leading to knacks and bends in her scarred, kelp-tangled tentacles. Her front right bang is enlarged and covers her right eye, while her left bang is rather diminished, steering clear of her face to give room for her undamaged left eye. Despite all this, it somehow manages to keep the rough shape of the octoling soldier cut (well, vaguely...)

Optional - Umbrella
Water… so hot…
Surume’s trying out undercover brella cause it matches her fit
“It matches my fit! Blocks out the sun, too!”
Stands under the umbrella, a tiny bit small for her
Suckers stuck to canopy, drags it away without her hands lol

Big Buddy
‘Just… how?’

Tipping her Grizzco work cap up to get a clear look, Eight let out an exasperated sigh as she stared up at her coworkers’ newly made friend. Last she checked, pets weren’t tens of feet tall, nor did they groan and squeak as they charged along with the impact force of a moving bus.

“How did you girls manage to befriend a faulty Griller?”

Surume looked over with a bright smile, seemingly oblivious to the magnitude of her feat.
“Gingerly.” The spoken word gingerly made its way past Iveri's ear and through her stalled brain unprocessed, while Cass could be seen in the distance baiting the short-sighted iron behemoth along with a Grizzco glove on a pole.

Iveri let out another sigh as she rubbed her eyes in concern, taking some much-needed time to process the borderline-hallucinated situation. ‘It looks like it isn’t running, but those things are still dangerous as hell! They’re Salmonid-designed Flooders, for god’s sake!’

Returning from her cautious pondering and painful recollection with a shudder, Iveri immediately looked back to see Surume stacked upon Cass’ shoulders, stretching up to reach and climb atop the cold metal engine.

“Hey! Get down from that thing!” Iveri barked. Successfully mounting the sealed grilltop, the peppy inkling simply gave a starry wink in response as she sat cross-legged atop the lazy Griller, steering it along with the glove-on-a-stick in her hand.

“Nah! That's no fun ️★”

While she was busy responding to a concerned Eight, the inkling wasn’t really considering where she was pointing the stick towards. Soon enough did the Griller chase it back into the shallow waters, where Surume slowly sailed off into the bay’s depths and into the sunset atop its lid.

*They named it Squeegee. Which is like naming a pet shark Minnow.

Swoon
A new season of releases had just arrived, which means another shopping trip. As they sifted through the Reef amongst a crowd thicker than undiluted shrimp paste mixed with cheese, Iveri, Surume and Cassandra went to browse the new arrivals.

Walking past the storefronts, a familiar tri-barrel figure caught the elite’s attention. A polished Hydra splatling sat on display, its frame painted blue and decorated with yellow arrow stickers.

“See something you like, Cassie?” Her dilating eye was a rapid indicator of just how smitten she was, dropping everything with an audible gasp.

“Th-tha-th-hh-the-th-TH-HH-THAT! THAT’S THE NEW MODEL!” Running over, Cass quickly pressed up against the glass in uncharacteristic giddiness. Her face was practically glued to the screen, flatter than an ironed-out solefish. If it was for a new weapon, even her dignity could wait.

“The Hydra Deco! It’s finally here! New hinges, better pressure system - it’s even got Splash Wall and Ink Armour! I’ll be unstoppable with this!” Before the octoling’s enthusiasm could progress to combustible levels, Eight peeked over her shoulder to look at the price tag. It certainly wasn’t a pretty one, either.

“That’s way too overpriced, even for a weapon…”

“But I wanna get it nowwwww!”

Surume popped over with more advice as a frequent shopper, having also seen the insane markup. “It’ll be a lot cheaper if you can wait for a bit!”

Cass flung her head aside with rolled eyes, nonchalantly grumbling as she got back up. “Tch. Fine… not like I had the money anyway.”

Optional - Summer Flowers
Sunflowers around Surume’s hometown
Kiwi’s got a bucket hat
Cass: Oh! I think I’ve eaten one of these before… Nope.
Cass: (A little boring, honestly…)
Pick a petal off a flower, holds it close to Kiwi
They’re so pretty! And they’re just like you!
Kiwi: (Flustered) “Yeah…”

Dumbass
Seated together on the lower bunk bed, Surume was busy listening to Cass lament about some of her previous colleagues. And also staring at her lightly-freckled shoulders; how they weren’t clearly muscular, yet toned. Firm.

“…And well, some of those useless lesbians would be too busy fumbling around each other to be holding positions! I remember the last time my junior didn’t even show up to sortie because she had a crush on me… Puh.” Cassandra’s eyes rolled towards the ceiling at the thought.

Surume’s eyes lit up as she selectively heard an opportunity. “She - Are you, um, into girls - um, perchance?”

“Well, yeah? Most of us were girls, so it was quite common.” Her lips turned up into a sly, playful grin as she leaned in. “Got someone you’re into?”

Surume sank back bashfully, blushing at the question. “Sigh. Maybe, yeah…” That dreamy sigh was accompanied with a slight flutter in her legs, twirling her bang with a finger as she gave it some thought.

“Heh, I knew it! Nice! Can I set you up?” The painfully obvious hint flew right over Cass' head, straight out the window and onto some poor schmuck below like a brick. “O-oh, hahah, yeah, sure,” Surume nervously laughed as she shrugged it off with a lowly mumble.

Later that night, the inkling’s anguished screams could be heard as she stuffed them into her pillow. “(Wonder what that’s all about,)” Cass mumbled to herself as she idly laid on her bed below, listening to the muffled thrashing above her.

How do I know if she likes me!? *aaaaagh*
Over at residence no. 24, the two agents Eight and Four were seated at a table, discussing recent private matters over a cup of tea. Well, more of Surume confiding in Iveri, really.

“She’s not reading any of my hints!” Iveri, now Eight for this conversation because Iveri already couldn’t handle this earlier, let out a deep sigh. “She literally calls you Kiwi. Even I know how often she eats them in a week.” The solid stare did nothing for the stressed girl, who was busy sweating over each missed tell one by one as she remembered them.

“Uuu-huh-huugh!” Surume propped her elbows onto the countertop as she groaned, clasping her head in nervous frustration as her tuft flicked back and forth in a way that described panic. So, so much panic. In fact, she was fretting over this more than anything else in her life, combined, twofold.

Eight let out a smaller, quieter sigh as she watched Four’s tuft tick back and forth like an overdriven metronome. “Is this… Is this how you felt, watching us get together?”

“Yes!? No!? What do I do!?”

“You’re so terribly single, Sumi…” Eight groaned, dragging her palms over her face as her nuance ran out with her patience. “Just. Tell her!? She’s probably been waiting for you, you know that!?”

Surume cowered, somehow made even more reluctant by the the coerced suggestion. “I don’t knowwww… I don’t want to lose her as — um, as a friend, or something…”

“Kiwi, babe…” Watching these fools continuously dance around each other with uncertainty and hesitance in front of her very eyes made Eight pull on her tentacles, wanting to rip them out and chew on them fiercely in righteous aggravation.

Annoying
Weekends aren’t always for play - not when one has to manage their time and stuff…

Surume: “I gotta focus on studying!”
Cass: “But that’s so boooring!”

Seated in front of her desk, Surume looked down at her notes with a furrowed, disapproving stare. It was already hard and stressful enough to study as is, but now, there was a live person beside her to represent her impulsive thoughts; busy trying to get her attention and egging her on to join them in activities she’d much rather be doing.

Well, of course Cass wouldn’t understand. Last time she heard the word ‘university’, she thought it was some kind of of urchin. But that wouldn’t stop her from pestering her busy roommate about the deadliness of boredom.

Surume’s focus was wearing out, no thanks to the repetitive slow poking into her shoulder as she worked. A lone finger repeatedly tapped against the desk to show her annoyance.

“Oh my floppin’ god. I’m trying to study here!” Cass lazily stared up at Surume, her head against a supporting hand while she blankly looked back with her green eye unfazed by the complaint. “Can’t you do that later?”

‘It already is later!’ The exasperated inkling sighed as she turned back to the pages, her concentration now in complete shambles. What would it take for her to stop being so damn annoying?

“…” As she continually shut out Cass’ continued distractions, Surume’s citrine-yellow eyes drifted towards the window.

“Hey, look!” The sudden surprised exclamation came from none other than Surume, who eagerly pointed into the distance past the glass screen. “Aliens!”

Roused by the sudden alert, the octoling eagerly leaned in and looked through the window to take a look…

“Huh!? What - where – Ow!”

… only to get slapped in the back of her head.

*Surume: Heheh, that’ll teach her! Everyone knows aliens only show up at night, dummy!

Midnight Oil
Returning from her nighttime prep, Cassandra peeked over at the busy Surume neck-deep in revision, whose head was now resting on her arms pressed against the table.

‘(Huh, she’s asleep. Said she’d be studying all night…)’

The exhausted inkling’s slow breaths told of her weariness; having studied nonstop since morning, and now, she was resting amongst the text-filled papers scattered all over her desk.

‘(She works hard, even if she is peppy and carefree all the damn time…)’ Cass looked over at the written notes, elaborate yet unreadable like organised scientific chicken scratch. A small sniffle then came from the spent agent, still asleep. Her nose ran and dripped, while her body reflexively shivered in the air-conditioned summer night.

“…”

Without a word, Cass climbed up the bunk bed ladder, pulling off the upper bunk blanket. With another peek to confirm that she was really asleep, the elite carefully draped the fuzzy blanket over Surume’s shoulders, letting her rest for the night as she switched the lights off.

Letting out a somewhat tense sigh as she climbed into the lower bunk, Cass laid on her side as she wordlessly shut her eyes in the dark.

‘(Good night, Kiwi.)’

*Later, Kiwi woke up to the blanket over her, having been half awake throughout the whole exchange.
Kiwi: It’s not fair! How she can be so... so annoying and cute and cool and - ////// (unintelligible mumbling)

Chapter 15: Chapter 13 - Broken Bed

Chapter Text

Chapter 13 - Broken Bed (Optional?)

“I remember making a really dumb move.”

crk.

Surfacing from a light sleep, Cass’ ears twitched as she began to shift. Somewhat conscious, she voluntarily kept her eyelids shut to grab a few more seconds of rest whilst half-awake.

Crk-crak.

Pressing a palm onto her face as she rolled onto her back, the drowsy octoling looked at the sound from above with a small grunt. “Mmmugh…” Still tired, she laid in place with a yawn. No doubt that creaking noise was what woke her up - it sounded like it came from above her; a low bellowing ache accompanied by numerous clicks and cracks. Only thing was, it slowly grew in intensity as time went on, a stark contrast to serenity.

Crk-crk-c RK-SNAP!

With a thunderous splintering of wood, the planks above her gave way, dropping the upper bed through the broken frame and onto to the lower bunk as it collapsed. Among the crashing landslide of debris, cloth and softened wood was a yellow-headed blur of a figure, who was quite literally dunked awake as she fell down. The contents of the upper bunk quickly settled a couple feet below where it once was, placing a bewildered Surume next to an equally startled Cass amidst a pile of worn planks and wooden splinters. They alertly and silently stared at each other for a solid moment, both having been made wide awake by the event.

“Hey Kiwi.”

“Hey Cassie.”

Climbing out of the pile with no more than a few light cuts, the two looked upon the now-ruined bunk bed which had caved in on itself. “Soo… Guess it kicked the can, huh.” “Mhm.” Fishing out her pillows and plushies from the mess as she dusted them off one by one, Surume paused as her eyes lit up with a Thought(TM), excitedly turning to look at Cassandra with extra enthusiasm despite the morning mishap.

“Ah! You know what that means, right? Time for another shopping trip!”

…

Surrounded by massive complexes that could easily rival the whole plaza in size, the office-like department stores overshadowed the skyline and vicinities, almost as if they absorbed and assimilated the buildings around them to make collective superstores chock full of all their products combined. The one they were headed to in particular had a striking navy blue hue painted over its exterior, lined with yellow accents.

“Aaaaand we’re here!” Stepping off the train station, Surume marched ahead, eager to show her friend over to their target destination. The two stepped inside into a rather small entryway despite the large building, greeted by the constant scent of varnished wood and cork. Confidently leading the way, Surume stepped onto an escalator as Cass warily followed behind her. There was a lot of places where things could hide, so to speak.

“…You sure this ain’t a testing facility?”

“Nope, this is an IKAEA! Dunno what that stands for, but they sell lots of furniture here,” It was certainly a furniture store: one that had little to no windows, a curious lack of clocks, constant bright lighting, and a labyrinthine layout of small contrasting display rooms joined by tall warehouse units of shelves stacked high with boxes. The goods were affordable, though - priced at a range that attracted fledgling homeowners paired with its ease of transport, scattered around the store in pairs or threes much like themselves.

Arriving on the upper floor with a jaunt step off the escalator, Surume determinedly slapped her fist against her open palm as they began to walk through the displays. “So! We’re here for a new set of mattresses! Maybe a bedframe too,” Tracing the maze-like layout constructed from her memory, that would mean… going through the entire store from front to back to reach the bedding section riiiight before the exit. Playfully, the inkling tilted her head over at the black tentacles curiously flitting about next to her. “Hey, how long do you bet that’s gonna take?”

Cass scratched her chin, not knowing anything about the place. “Uhh, 20 minutes?”

Ha. Hahaha. Haha. Ha.
Five. hours. That’s how long they spent in there.

Between Surume’s quick-to-be distracted attitude and Cass weakness to being goaded into stuff, their targeted shopping easily devolved into wandering about the maze on the basis of whatever next caught their eye (read: everything). “Ooh… red, green, black… Check out these funky lights!” Surume quipped, her arms cluttered full of colourful ink-shade lamps that twisted and curled in different directions.

“Eh? Oh, cool,” Cass looked from across the section, her hand still glued to feeling a large rug hung up beside her. “Have you felt these mats??? They feel so weird!” Surume went over to feel it herself, patting it down repeatedly.

“Ooh! A Texture.”

Eventually making their way down to the lower floor with a whole load of stuff they weren’t looking for, they finally reached to the bed displays they had come here to look through. Sifting along the various kinds of single beds in stock, Surume tested each one with a quick sit and bounce, each one comfier than the last. Finding a rather reliable candidate amongst the few, she flipped over the tag on its side to check the price.

“Huh!?”

Her baffled dismay only grew as she checked the other beds’ tags. “I didn’t know beds were so expensive…” Just as she checked the last of the single mattresses, a familiar called name drew her attention away from the egregious price tags. “Hey, Kiwi! Check this one out!”

“It says here that it’s a shared budget mattress — frankly, I wouldn’t pay for it if I could, but this one ain’t bad!” Walking over, the inkling was greeted by a wide and rather comfy-looking bed. On sale, too — plus the fact that it could fit the both of them together. It was obvious that Cass didn’t think much of them sharing a bed together, and it would certainly beat sleeping on just their blankets, but…

“Owh.” The inkling gave the mattress a small press with her palms, before looking over at the discounted price in hesitant consideration. “It is a queen-sized mattress, and it is cheaper than two singles — but I dunno…” Cass let out a boisterous laugh at Surume’s atypical reluctance, roughly patting their shoulder as she rested her other hand on her hip. “Gahahah! Never shared a bed before? It’s easy, just don’t sleep on top of the other gal! Plus, I know a steal when I see one.”

“Well, I’ve never, but-“

“Aaah c’mon, Kiwi! It’ll be fine!”

“Umm yeah, okay, sure!” As they continued to reassure and convince themselves about their made decision, a shared thought subtly sprouted in the back of their minds.

‘Is it really fine, though?’
‘(Is it really fine, though?)’

While they did get it set up with their pillows and familiar belongings atop a simple bedsheet, they definitely slept awkwardly distant from each other that night.

-----------

*When they brought the mattress back to the apartment, it didn’t quite fit through the door.

Surume: Oof. How do we get it inside!?

Cassandra: Should we just fold it and jam it in?

Cassandra: Like… this! Hup!

Cassandra: Damn block won’t… bend!

Surume: I think it’s working! Just a little bit more!

Iveri (on phone): Have you — Have you tried turning it on its side?

Surume: Huh? Okay.

Surume: … … …

Surume: Thanks! That worked!

Iveri (on phone): Oh my god…

Chapter 16: Chapter 14 - Surface-bound

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 - Surface-bound
“I remembered my wrongs.”

As per the usual weekend, Surume, Iveri and Cass casually loitered about the square, hunting for thrills, relaxing and generally enjoying their free time doing things of little importance, oftentimes driven by reasons as simple as for fun. It all felt quite weightless, as they playfully went from one thing to the next.

Moments like these were monotonous, and had become rather common in Cassandra’s recent memory; but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing - after all, an uneventful moment meant nothing terrible was currently happening.

Stepping along just behind the two off-duty agents with a saunter as they headed out of the plaza, Cass’ idle sneer lazily wandered off in the uneventful afternoon moment.

A sudden cognisance pulled her attention towards a crack between buildings as she walked past it. Turning to look, she found herself staring into a dim alley, one lined by pipes and wreathed in subterranean dusk. At its far end stood a single weathered door under a lamp, visibly left untouched for some time as a familiar chill wind’s howl and stale air leaked from behind its creaky facade. The feeling of damp air against her skin locked her in place as she stood in the light of day, deeply rooted by the sight that loomed ahead of her, itself unmoving.

An unsettling familiarity lurked behind that door.

“Cassie! You coming?”

Tearing her eyes away from the sight, the octoling gave a small nod before catching up with her friends.

“Shall we get an early dinner? I heard there’s a place around here that does some pretty nice wraps and stuff.”

“Gotcha! Let’s go!”

“Sure. There better be no clams, though.”

As they headed towards the nearby diner, the sight of the door at the end of the alley remained in Cass’ mind, unwilling to be forgotten. Like a memory, begging to be remembered…

Once they sat down with their orders placed, Cass set her eye out the window they were seated next to. Through the clear glass, she suddenly noticed the many life luxuries that surrounded her: comfortable and clean clothes which she too wore; seen faintly in the window’s reflection. A warm bowl of fresh noodles placed right in front of her, all to herself. A well-lit environment, where they could all roam freely and safely in, even at night.

And yet, only a single dreadful voice remained. One that spoke like her. One that spoke in accusation.

What was she taking from them?

Silenced by her own thoughts, Cassandra slowly lifted the fork in her hand, taking a single bite as her vacant stare peered downwards at the filled bowl.

(It was all a reminder. That it was a comfortable life, one that was less harsh and demanding — but this wasn’t her home. That she had given in to some convenient roped lie handed to her.
A familiar stinging ache seeped into her chest at the thought.)

Later that night, Cass and Surume were keeping to their own devices back in the shared apartment. It was a calm kind of quiet; however, the stillness only felt increasingly suffocating to Cass as she tried to repress it. The silence disturbed her; it left her open to thoughts that made her restless and uneasy. Feelings of helplessness and guilt began to weigh down on her conscience in the continued silence, eating away at her psyche as they crept in from places unseen.

Was this a forgiving world?

The deafening silence grew into a high-pitched ringing - one that told of defeat, and the consequences left in its wake. It always led to a confrontation, of punishment and the heavy price of her ineptitude, sung by the ones she wronged. Her heart pounded louder and louder with each waking second, submerging her ears in vexing waves of dreadful reminiscence. She looked down at her trembling bloodstained hands as she held them over her chest, while her cold breath grew heavy and strained.

Guilty.

Guilty.

Guilty.

Her doubts and guilt, unspoken, cried out to be laid to rest, until there was nothing left to be confessed.

In the momentous clarity, the elite approached the relaxed agent across her, her voice rigid and tense with an urgent unease.

“Surume.” Her curious stare met Cass’ visibly distressed expression.

“Can I talk to you for a bit?”

With both sitting next to each other on the bedside, only the sounds of their breaths could be heard in the night. Surume watchfully sat beside Cassandra without a word as the once-prideful octoling’s head hung low in spoken silence, unable to say what troubled her.

The scarred hands tightened their grip as she mustered the will to speak.

“…I led a group of survivors. Beside six others, each of us devoted to making sure that we could all live in safety, as we figured a way.”

“It all feels like it was yesterday,” The words were spoken wistfully, as it told of fonder times. ”It was difficult, surviving in the depths. But we survived together. I was happy with them.”
“Once materials ran out, we had to scavenge further outwards. I went far, farther than anyone else, up into the snow.”

Surume solemnly spoke with a voice full of empathy. “And then you were caught.”

“Before I left, we promised to each other that we’d make it home together. We had hope. I had faith.”

Cass’ hands shifted slightly as her voice shrank to a mutter. “But now? I’ve abandoned them. I’ve run away to a life above the surface, alone. What would they think of me now?”

“I…” Trying to intervene with sympathy, Surume quickly fell silent as Cassandra’s breath quickened, sharpening into a regretful hiss.

“I’m surrounded by friends, and luxuries, and-and-and things that I couldn’t even dream of underground. All while my people — my sisters and my brothers — are suffering, starving, fighting, just to exist! I was too scared to return, and now… I’ve left them to rot away. I lied to them. Valk, Oracle, Mag…”

Cassandra took a moment to briefly lift her head, before staring back down at her hands. “This is the life I took from them. Stolen, from many more who I stopped from escaping. Is this some form of cruel joke? That only I get the freedom that others fought so hard for too?” Scorching tears welled in her eyes in livid anger, burning bright enough to melt away all that could ever reach her.

“Why didn’t I return to them when I could have?” Cassandra began to choke up. Surume simply sat there, unable to speak or console her as she listened to her pained voice quiver.

“…”

“It’s all MY FAULT! I’M A LIAR, AND A SELFISH TRAITOR!”

She hated this, this feeling of guilt that clotted and seized her heart; she couldn’t bear it as it cut deep into her chest. Her rage spilled forth with a voice torn apart by grief, her unrepentant facade left in ruined pieces and marked with tears that silently fell in sorrow.

“Why… me…? Why am I *sniff* even alive? Living the life that they should have gotten? The life that they all… deserved?”

Surume’s consoling expression shifted slightly as an ache writhed within her. She herself felt the pain from Cassie’s turmoils. Why did she hate seeing her like this so much?

In a moment of pure guilt, Cassandra dug her hands into her exposed neck, and started to tear deep. She desperately clawed at her throat with her fingers, driven by uncontrollable despair as she let out strained chokes.

“Cassie!? HEY-Cassandra! CASSANDRA—STOP! SNAP OUT OF IT!” With an alerted shout, Surume leapt forwards, grabbing on to Cass’ wrists and forcefully pulling her hands away. The deeply reddened scratch wounds remained, running down from her throat to her collar.

Surume’s fraught stare remained as she looked into the apprehended Cassandra. It hurt her to see her like this. She just couldn’t understand it. She couldn’t understand…

“Why…?” Cassandra turned away from the hushed question, too weak and miserable to fight back as tears fell uncontrollably.

“I d-don’t want to live anymore. *hic* M-m — aybe I… maybe I sho-*hic*-uld have sank… i-into those waters and j-just… died…” Her voice shriveled up and faded away, unwilling to speak anymore.

Gently releasing her wrist, Surume laid down on the bed with a still expression, their backs facing each other. From the other side of the bed, quiet whimpering and sobbing could be heard in the night.

Chapter 17: Chapter 14b - Surface-Bound

Chapter Text

Chapter 14b - Surface-Bound

“I remember being given a truth.”

It was a quiet day at home.

Getting up from the bed with little hesitation, Surume got up to take a quick shower before sitting down for her studies. Her still expression remained unchanged as she sat in front of the laptop screen, remaining quiet in the heavy air.

Though she busied herself with recorded recaps in a seemingly uncaring fashion, her eyes discreetly followed Cassie throughout the day, who refused to speak, eat or drink at all; hardly moving from the bed as they sullenly weeped in silence. She was stoic… but she was wary.

Only by dusk did Cass’ tears begin to dry, which is when Surume decided to try again. The reassuring agent softly approached her, joining the depressed octoling atop the bed as she sat next to her in the soft nighttime glow. Cass’ food had gone cold, left untouched.

“…Cassie. I’m sorry.” Cassandra immediately teared up and looked away from Surume in upset, sensing what was coming.

Surume pulled the octoling into a comforting embrace as she held her tightly in her arms with closed eyes. “You didn’t abandon them. You didn’t take their futures. Everything you did was for your people’s safety and freedom, plus your own. You deserve this life just as much as everyone else. There’s nothing selfish about accepting what you fought to achieve.”

A broken and choked voice began to speak. “B-but-“

Surume pulled Cassandra away to look her in the eye. She felt frustrated. Irritated. She could feel her patience wear out the more she looked at that pitiful face.

“But what!? What if you are the only one who makes it!? You can’t just remain in guilt and grieve forever. You have to keep going, for them - and for yourself! Are you just gonna die scared!?”

Cassandra lashed out equally against their sudden snap, tearfully gritting her teeth in rage and panic. “I’ve already forsaken everyone who has loved me!”

A selfish impulse overtook the agent as she fiercely pulled them towards her.

“THEN WHAT ABOUT ME, DAMMIT!?”

Her grip on their shirt collar relaxed as the room returned to silence, her heavy breaths lingering in the cold air.

“…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice.” Letting go completely, Surume proceeded to hug the silenced, stunned octoling.

“We’re here for you. You don’t have to struggle alone anymore. We’ll get better bit by bit, step by step.” Her arms squeezed tighter in reassurance as she felt Cassie’s arms on her back.

“I’ll keep you safe.” A small sniffle was heard.

In a moment of silence, Kiwi lifted her head to reveal a gentle, slightly teary smile. One of compassion.

“…They would be happy to see you doing well.”

The last of Cass’ tears fell as her hands shakily clasped onto Surume for comfort, while her eyelids grew heavy, collapsing from heartache and exhaustion in the unfamiliar warmth.

“Surume…”

…

Waking up in the midmorning dawn, the drowsy inkling looked over to her side to find Cassandra resting peacefully next to her.

(Since they’d met, she hadn’t seen Cassandra show her weakness despite shouldering the stress of adjusting to a new life and worrying about her family until now, only ever culminating as sleepless nights and vigilant naps.

It’s not that Cass was uncaring. She never was. It’s just that she was too worried for the people she really cared about.)

Surume watched the tired octoling’s chest slowly rise and fall as they curled up next to her. With a faint smile, she gently caressed Cass’ head, petting her softly as she slept snugly and deeply for the first time in years. She was finally able to begin healing.

Those same feelings were quietly reciprocated by Surume, before she too closed her eyes in rest.

-------------

*By the next day, a small paper found itself attached to their door.

Surume: Ah… noise complaint.

Chapter 18: Chapter 15 - Homesickness

Chapter Text

Chapter 15 - Homesickness
“I remember us healing each other.”

Book, book, book. Revision, revision, revision. What was she doing again after this? Oh, right, more revision.

“Rrrgh!” With an hateful grunt toward the concept of assessment based learning, Surume slammed her face straight onto her laptop keyboard. Exam hell, much less commonly known as exam season, was never a pretty time for her, especially when she was burnt out in light of, uh, recent emotional events.

“I wanna go home…” Just as she moaned about her homesickness, the heavy and even rhythm of Cass’ footsteps started to move past her. Oh, how she wished right now to be as innocent as her roommate, blissfully unaware and free of the horrors of the modern education system.

“Cass, can you get me a hot water bottle?”

Feeling a quick tap on the shoulder not long after, Surume looked up, her forehead imprinted with the shape of the keyboard and its gaps. A heated water cushion was extended to the grumbly inkling who took it without a word. With the heated water bottle wrapped securely in her arms, Surume returned to grumpily looking at her notes as Cass promptly left the room again.

(“Home, huh…” Digging through the fridge and a few dry cabinets in the kitchen, the octoling pulled aside several cans of instant foods as she searched about. ‘(No instant noodles, but at least the paste I bought is still there.)’ Into a pot went the canned contents of processed ham, baked beans and pickled vegetables that she had found altogether, along with a seemingly haphazard amount of the crimson paste as she brought the pot to a boiling stir.)

Cassandra came back to check on Surume a while later, the agent still stubbornly saddled with their notes and indifferently unresponsive to Cass’ presence, even as a squid.
“Hup.” Without much else of a warning, the inkling was lifted out of her seat and carried across the room, where Cass plopped her down onto a chair in front of a warm bowl of hot soup, filled with tofu, beans and other seemingly random stuff.

“…What is this?”

“A stew. It’ll help.” While Cass dug in to her portion without hesitance, Surume brought a spoonful of the jarringly red soup closer to her eyes. She’s had something like this before, but was there ever really a thing as corn-sausage-chilli-ham soup? With a small huff to bolster her determination, the agent took a swift mouthful of the odd brew.

It was spicy. But in a way that cleared Surume’s senses. And sinuses. In fact, it was quite flavourful. By the third spoonful, she was already enjoying the soothing effect of the comfort meal and its filling warmth, eventually finishing the bowl to its base with a satisified sigh.

“Ahhh~ How did you make this?”

“We had some leftover stuff in the fridge. It ain’t quite the (ration stew) I remember, but it’s not half bad for a homesick cure.”

“Heheh. This is kinda a big step for me, being away from home and all for so long, so... thanks, Cassie. This means a lot.”

“Hey, you gotta take care of yourself too! All those study regimens with Jeeves shouldn’t be for nothing just ‘cause your brain is overloaded on the day,” Cassandra playfully nudged the inkling with a fist before going back to her own bowl. Her tone was much more gentle and relieved, if not still a little tired.

“…You’re special to me, Kiwi. Even if I am scared at times… thank you.” Kiwi returned the favour with a relaxed smile, appreciative of the much-needed gesture.

“So! How about a break? Some turf wars?”

------------------

*Surume has a jellyfish friend named Jessie/Jeeves that she hangs out with and studies with often, sometimes inviting her/him over to study together in the apartment. Surume's good at making friends since she isn’t afraid to embarrass herself and joke about it.

Chapter 19: Story Snippets III - Fresh Out of the Oven

Chapter Text

Chapter 15.5 - Fresh Out of the Oven

Competitively Silly (Kiwi/Cassie)
Returning from the match’s exit pipeline, Surume and Cass gathered towards one of several screens that displayed the eight match participants’ scores. Of course, they had plenty to say about the results. They always did.

“Hey! I’m carrying your ass! Where’s my thanks?”

“Yeah, yeah, you sweaty killstealer, who do you think placed those sneaky beakies for you! Go touch some grass, dome girl!”

“Gahah! Getting your shorts twisted because you splatted less?” The two cephies traded mocking middle fingers as they continued energetically butting heads, bragging and competing all the way as they set up for the next match. Their competitive streaks would continue to flare up as they bantered like striking flint in a hay silo.

“I’m not taking sh*t from someone who drinks liquid sugar pretending to be like ‘coffee’.” Surume leaned in at the petty remark, folding her arms as she gave an unamused stare. “Don’t bring my frappes into this. They’re infinitely better than those plain Ika lattes you always get.”

Cass’ sneer only grew as the argument went on. “You know what? I bet you roll off the map all the time with your dualies.”

“That’s rich, Hydra girl. Want me to get your mobility aid for you?”

While their attacks became increasingly petty and personal with all sorts of pulled eyes and blown raspberries, it would all quickly dispel as soon as the match bell rang.

Ding-ding!

“Owh, you wanna try bomb jumping next?” “Sounds fun. A Splat Bomb sub?” “Yup. So, what you got to do is hold a bomb under you…”

With eager chatter and laughter to spare, all was forgiven in a heartbeat as they headed to their next match. Well, until that match ends.

*Surume calls Squid Beakons in enemy turf ‘sneaky beakies’.

**Iveri is a constant witness and victim of their noisy enthusiasm to the point it would bounce off her - consequently, she had to drag Surume aside.
Iveri: I miss her, Sumi. I miss my wife.
Surume: *shrug* What? What wife? Y’all aren’t even married…

***Surume invented the strategy of ‘bomb-jumping’ - placing a live bomb under yourself and riding the explosion’s force for an approach. Now, it isn’t reliable nor accurate, but it works with enough enthusiasm and commitment to compensate. (source: Trust me! - Surume)

Puffin is almost always seen in her school uniform, yet to explore and find what’s her own style.

*Surume: Pah. You’re all a bunch of softies…
Penguin/Sundew/Wister: YOU’RE ONE TO TALK!
**What does Surume think of Cass?
Surume: She’s hot. (end of excerpt)

*Sundew went hard on the frontlines later that day, barking all sorts of authoritative call-outs.
Cass, muttering: …She’s really good at this.
Penguin, whispering: Yeah, she is.
Wister, mumbling: Actually, yeah…

*(he does. all the time.)

**‘At least I finally got Mr. Strawberry…’ - Wister, sipping on a frappe to cheer himself up later as he poked the axolotl figure

Penguin and Puffin

“Hogh?”

*Cassandra broke it with a forceful kick when she next found it. The memory still lives on, though…

‘If a war is what you want…
…then a war is what you’ll get.’

Something about seeing Kiwi like this made Cass’ heart thump, flash-boiling her in an instant as steam began to drift from her head. With the situation quickly aborted, Cass couldn’t even look Surume in the eye for the rest of the day — effectively declaring Surume the victor of the prank war by forfeit.

“Lied to only to get my hopes up…” Cass sulked, uncharacteristically let down from being gaslit so easily. “Aww, sorry Cassie,” Surume giggled with a lighthearted apology, reimbursing the comically gloomy octoling with a one-sided consolation cuddle.

Impulsive
“G’mornin, Kiwi…”

“Good morning, Cassie…”

Getting up at the same time for once (and way too early for both of them), Surume could scarcely keep her eyes open and her tentacles down as she drowsily shuffled over to Cassandra, who had the Great Zapfish plushie wrapped in her arms whilst similarly asleep on two feet.

“Mm?”

“Mm.”

From this close, Surume could pick up Cass’ faint-yet-recognisable scent. It felt comforting; the mildly grassy and vanilla-like fragrance of her soap mixed together with the sleepy warmth. With little else on her mind, Surume impulsively pulled Cass in for a quick morning greeting.

*chu*

The octoling was audibly caught well off-guard, her entire system fried in a single beat. Smoked in an instant, she simply stood there in the wake of the surprise, unresponsive and bluescreened.

*When they first met, Cass reeked of damp rust and crude oil - Kind of like a gas station? …She smells better now.

**I have a hard time identifying and describing good smells. This one was especially hard for me to figure out…

Tentacuts (no thanks)
Surume had gotten somewhat curious of Cassandra’s outgrown soldier cut. How it was wild and huge unlike most common styles of the surface; probably really heavy even by octoling soldier standards. Long enough to curl a little bit, too. She didn’t have to think anywhere as much of her own inkling tentacles thanks to her unobtrusive short cut (beyond the occasional long fringe), but it did lead to some curiosity.

“Hey Cassie, ever thought of trimming those huge tentacles of yours?”

“Huh!? Uhh, no thanks. I was thinking of it, but I’d rather not…” She seemed rather apprehensive of the thought, scratching her chin as her tendrils shrivelled a little bit.

“There are places that specialise in doing that!” Cassandra dismissively shook her head.

“Not that - how much can you Inklings move your tentacles?”

With great concentration, Surume managed to waggle her loose bangs slightly, which also made her ears wiggle out of habit. “Maybe… a little bit? Can’t say much though.” Cassandra nodded attentively at the observation.

“Exactly. Us Octarians have lots of nerves in there to help control and feel with them,” Eager to demonstrate, Cass proudly curled and flicked her kelp-matted tentacles individually. “It also means it‘ll hurt a f*ck ton if we cut them without a - uhh, a (numbing agent?)”

“Owh. Iveri or Marina might know a place, actually…” Kiwi mused. “Owh, by the way, can you keep the cuttings? I wanna make takoyaki.”

Cass could only reply with a perturbed stare at the morbid statement.

*Cass: Aren’t squids supposed to have 10 limbs? Why do some have more or less?
Surume: It’s probably their cut. How did you know that?
Cass: We had a chapter on ‘How To Detect A Spy’ in our Combat Studies.
Surume: Owh… heh...

*Iveri: You do NOT just go around touching an octoling’s suction cups! What do you mean you just ‘did’!?
Surume: She was okay with it, though.
Iveri: …I feel harassed already.

Optional - Bugs!
It’s a poorly drawn roach
It’s a small enemy roach
It’s just a small bug
Surume: EEEEWWW! Stay right where you are! Don’t you dare take another step!
Cass chasing Kiwi with the roach
Alternatively: Both hate bugs (Cass cannot stand the sight of squishy grubs…)

Optional - You wanna talk about some dedication!?
Sleep-deprived dedication on the video game
“You’re gonna regret challenging me! I’m unbeatable!” <- has never played
Gets smashed ad nauseam
Fighting game (masher play-who’s-cool vs flowchart shoto)
“If I press harder, I hit harder!”
Sunk-cost fallacy

*Surume’s pretty chill about matches, even hardly bothered by losing SR shifts. Until she loses a mirror match…

*Surume had a good laugh about that one, much to Cass’ chagrin. It did kinda look good, though.(The proper word is experienced; seasoned is an informal Inklish phrase.)

**The seasoning in reference is Nanami Togarashi, a kind of allspice mix. Tastes good on rice.

Optional - Canned Specials
Surume: Don’t look in the bathroom.
Cass: Why?
Surume: I may or may not have accidentally grabbed a half-opened Bomb Rush instead of my shampoo… Heheh. Whoops.
(Talk about blowing up the bathroom…)
*Cass: God! It’s even on the ceiling…

Optional - An Acquired Taste
Surume: Iveri! Cassie! Let’s all try this!
Iveri: What is that?
Surume: Salty liquorice gummy sharks! (Salmiakki)
Chew…
Surume, wincing: Pweh!
Cass, recoiling: Blegh!
Iveri, also grimacing from the taste: Sumi, babe… you seriously need help.

Pop!

*Surume: Did you receive that sweater from someone?
Cassandra: Someone who writes in glitter pen? She helped me move in here, I think.
Surume: How did she…

*Cass still frequently finds Surume sleeping very snugly in her jacket hoods and sweaters. This persistence has led to an agreed-upon shared custody of the grey sweater.

**Like all octopi, octolings are slightly venomous. Cass is trained to use it for unarmed combat; capable of delivering both non-lethal and lethal doses of paralysing venom.

***Venom and poison are often avenues for discrimination, with all sorts of popular misconceptions and overgeneralisations such as direct contact/sharing utensils causing poisoning. If there’s one thing that inkfish love to spread more than diseases, it’s misinformation.

Chapter 20: Chapter 16 - Rainy Day

Chapter Text

The uncaring raindrops would continue to fall relentlessly in the storm, drowning out the outside world in a soothing rhythm as the two comfortably laid together, kept safe in the moment.

Chapter 21: Chapter 17 - High-Heat Bracket

Chapter Text

Chapter 17 - High-Heat Bracket
‘I remember pushing myself past my limits.’

“No bashing anyone, Nessie. And let’s not underestimate them,” Wister pensively folded his arms as he closed his eyes in thought. “Though it is in our favour. If we win this, we’ll be-"

‘(All this inking is thirsty work — or is it the sun? Man, it’s hot… Wait, nonononono!)’ Cass vigorously snapped out of her daze as her throat ran dry in the blistering heat. ‘(Focus, Tetri! Just. Focus…)’ Her eyelids felt heavy as sweat dripped from her tendrils, weighed down by an unknown force. Why did she feel so exhausted all of a sudden?

That jingle again. It played out from afar, heard clearly in the relative stillness.

"It's CURTAINS!"

"OOOOOHHH! V? VOYAGER? VICTORY!"

"Haaa... BOO-YAH!"

…

“…”

Chapter 22: Chapter 18 - Heat Hazy

Chapter Text

“Ugh…” Cass groaned. Forced to accept defeat for her own sake.

Chapter 23: Chapter 19 - Fever Nightmare

Chapter Text

Chapter 19 - Fever Nightmare
“I remember being scared of losing everything again.”

Left with a whole lot of sanctioned inactivity, Cass silently stared up at the ceiling as she laid in rest.

It felt oddly emptying; not having constant orders or a common enemy to throw herself towards. It felt as if her quintessential purpose - her given purpose for living - had slowly been torn away inch by inch, along with nearly any semblance of importance or meaning. If she couldn't fight, then what good was she for?

‘(What use is a meaningless life…?)’

“(…)”

Sinking into the recesses of the formless night, she was slowly shrouded by the languid warmth of her belated exhaustion. In the feverish dark of her unopened gaze, her unlinked memories had woven an image, incoherent and assorted like the patterned scales upon a moth’s wings. Distant. Illogical.

With each step she took towards it, it became more… lucid.

Her unfelt steps carried her from one thing to the next, following glimpses of ribboned kelp. She ventured through the blinding brightness of the vast endless outdoors, walking down sterile halls and staircases with a cotton towel in hand, and then tracing along the walls of a dark cave’s path with her fingers.

Standing under a sky of false stars, their predatory threads of mucus hung just above her head. She moved past them as they feasted upon moths caught in their threads.

Before her now was a jury of weapons, incoherently chattering about their new guest that stood upon trial at a court within walls. Some of them grew increasingly upset as they discussed in hushed murmurs, scrutinising her features inexplicably.

Their whispers suddenly erupted into howls of laughter and joyous delirium as they compulsively ordered, begged, clamoured for her to proceed into the solid winds.

It felt like snow, like moss, like stone, like water.

It sounded like

The was like .
Like glass.
Like

Like .
Like

.

And at the bottom, at its very core, resided an all-consuming heat. Her weight swayed blearily upon a walkway of iron grates that hung above a vat of caustic fluid and smoke, suspended by chains that ran endlessly upwards into the abyss above them.

Outstretched hands remained above the liquid’s surface like blooming lotuses, begging to be saved as they reached out towards her.

She knew their names.

She struggled. She got on her knees, desperately trying to grab onto as many as she could save as she reached through the grate.

‘(Hold on! I’ll…!)’

Their pull became more than she could bear as they latched on, slowly dragging her down through the grate’s surface against her failing strength.

“Nrrrrrrgh!”

From the vacant side of her eye, a familiar figure stood upon the walkway’s open ledge.

“Huh?”

It looked like an octoling.
It looked like an inkling.

With black tentacles and the long-lost ribboned kelp bands she had always known.
With an unforgettable yellow jacket and short, white-dotted orange tentacles that she would recognise anywhere.

“(Valk?)”
“Kiwi?”

The octoling graced Tetri with a faint smile.
The inkling graced Cassandra with a faint smile.

“(████ ,)”

With an unspoken word, the hazy figure looked into her with a gentle reassurance, before letting themselves fall off the ledge and into the vat below.

“Wait!” Cass exclaimed, trying to reach out towards them.

In her divided attention,
They pulled her in.

The octoling snapped awake with cold sweat, waking into a dim silence. She no longer felt feverish, yet a lasting torment had taken its place as it raced through her system. Anxiously searching for clarity in reality, Cass looked towards the clock upon the wall: It had only been two hours of sleep, and yet the end of a lifetime had taken place.

Regret. It seeped into her like abyssal waters trickling into her lungs, washing over her as she slowly laid back down in bed, exhausted and sleepless from the journey that led her right back to square one.

'(When did I become such a mess?)' she groaned internally, left without an answer. Her armoured pride would not save her from the suffocated whispers that lingered in the aimless uncertainty.

She hated this fear. And yet, it would not leave her, sleeping peacefully by her side.

Chapter 24: Chapter 20 - Cold Shoulder

Chapter Text

“Alright.” With a disheartened lack of emotion, she solemnly got up to leave Cass be, left between them a void of silence.

Chapter 25: Chapter 20b - Myocarditis

Chapter Text

*Like always, VOYAGER took the chance to tease Cass about her absence.
Sundew: Poor ‘sandra…
Penguin: Gone, but not forgotten.
Cass: I’m right here, you know!?
Wister, solemnly: Sometimes, I can still hear her voice…

Chapter 26: Story Snippets IV - Hints of Autumn

Chapter Text

Chapter 20.5 - Hints of Autumn

A Morn
♪ Weighed down by morning,
Another day had come through the windows and blinds to bask upon the two blanket-covered figures as they laid next to each other, still very much sound asleep.

♪ Iiiiin my birthday suit.
Stirred by the light, the sheets were ever-so-slightly disturbed by one side’s small stirs and shifts in bed, waking as the percussion enters.

♪ Lift up the evening,
A stretch that lifted the blanket up with her hands;

♪ Just for a whiiihiile,
Accompanied by a huge yawn.

♪ Backwards, upside down and…
Her half-awake limbs wildly rummaged about as they tossed up the covers, poking and pitching and randomly trying to find a comfortable position amidst the hugging cotton…

♪ …inside out.
…before giving up, tired again.

♪ So hold on or we’ll all fall down,
♪ Oh heave the oceans do,
♪ Won’t you.
The half-assed getting up and flailing was promptly halted by a small shift on the other side, and the blanket finally fell back down in rest.

♪ I’ll keep my ears on,
The ambient birdsong could be heard as muffled chirps through a crack in their windowsill.

♪ I’ll keep my eyes open,
The reassuring sunlight, bright and warm, shone through the leaky blinds and into the sleepy dim apartment.

♪ I’ll keep my legs in sight,
Their legs poked out from under the messily scrunched blanket.

♪ And wait…
A single hand reaches out to the blinds, closing them shut in spite of an ever-approaching dawn.

♪ …‘till we all fall down.
With slowing movements, they both finally surrender to the temptation of slumber again, falling asleep once more.

*This is one of the original ideas that got me writing this story. A moment. Simple. Singular.
*Song is Birthday Suit — Cosmo Sheldrake.
*Most of my ideas/prompts come from songs, if not other stories. I should make a reference list.

No Coffee?
Would luck have it, they ran out of instant coffee.

“Are you gonna get up yet? It’s almost noon!” Surume quipped, having woken up at her usual time and still much earlier than Cassandra. The groggy elite twitched a little bit and no more at the statement, still laying face down and backwards on the bed, her feet towards the headrest and pillows. She hadn’t even put on her kelp bands yet.

“mouuu…” The octoling grumbled, lethargically blowing a raspberry in response. Eventually coerced off the bed with a quick roll, the caffeine-deprived octoling shuffled around the apartment in bedroom sandals and a blanket draped over her head. The sight prompted Surume to balance a variety of objects (stapler, pen, kettle, plushie (inside kettle)) atop the decaffeinated blob for fun as they remained slothfully still, to which Surume would blankly spectate. It kinda reminded her of those sea slugs people keep as pets.

“We can get some coffee later!” Kiwi reassured with her pep, looking into Cassie’s immensely baggy eyes.

“yay…..”

Grocery Runs
With their groceries running low, it was time for Cass and Surume to brave the labyrinthine Mako Mart: a perilous maze of retail purgatory constructed from near-identical aisles stocked with dangerous traps, but even greater loot! (According to Surume’s description, at least).

“There’s so much stuff…” Cass muttered to herself as she followed behind Kiwi with tensely raised shoulders and her hands in her pockets, skulking somewhat from the off-putting and overwhelming abundance of colours that walled her in.

“I know, right?” Surume chirped in response to the throwaway remark. “I know this place prrrreetty well, so you’ll be fine if you stick right behind me!” The yellow-white tentacled inkling cheerily announced with a jaunt step, as if leading a tour.

A concerning amount of time went by without the octoling’s response.

“…Cassie?”

“They really have everything, huh…” Cass warily mumbled to herself as she walked around the unfamiliar layout, already lost between the indistinct aisles. Her sense of smell was muddled by a constant muted scent of old detergent that permeated the indistinguishable surroundings, though it already felt odd enough to be navigating the background of a place she had typically vandalised with ink for the most part.

As she sifted through the stocked goods with a curious gaze through the aisles, Cass’ eye was snagged by a most-familiar object, causing her to backpedal with an audible gasp as she was reeled back in by the recognisable sight.

Some time later, Cass finally found the exit doors, freeing her from the hypermarket’s unending liminal grasp as she met up with Surume under an open sky. (It almost felt like she was trapped in the domes for a second there.) “Heeeey! Kiwi!” Cassandra caught up to the easygoing inkling with a noisy rustle, beside the octoling her own bag full of bought supplies. Arguably, they were less of supplies and more of dry snacks and instant coffee, but still. “Look at what they got!”

“Watcha got there?” Surume quipped as she lowered her phone, tilting her head slightly to peek inside the loaded bag while Cassandra excitedly stuck her arm inside, fishing out the brown-red box package in question. Looked ominously spicy, too.

“Curry blocks! We’d get these for the military provisions for rare occasions — y’all just sell it here like it’s nothing!” she declared beamingly, remaining very much thrilled and proud of her purchase. “I thought I’d never see these again!”

“Oooh! Are you making curry?”

“It’s a snack.”

The kind of genuine bluntness in Cass’ statement was perplexing and mildly worrying at best, in an oblivious tone that would make one concern for another’s health. “Um, kinda?”

“It’s more consumable like this.”

“Easier to consu—“ “Easier to consume, yeah.”

Becoming increasingly wary, the inkling turned away from the mildly confused elite to ponder and doubt for a split second. There was the chance that she was being honest. There really was…

‘Well, it could be a snack, but it really isn’t. It is instant curry, I guess, but…’

Alerted by the sound of tearing plastic, Surume glanced back to find the kelp-matted octoling grazing on one of the uncooked curry blocks, lodged directly between her jagged maw. Straight from the package.

“Mmpmpph! Mmph mmh?” Cass muffled incomprehensibly, somehow unaffected by a whole mouthful of red powder as she excitedly offered another brick towards the inkling.

Surume could only reply with twitching eyelids and a faltering smile of contorted disgust. Horror at such awful blasphemy. Terror at the witnessed crime, even.

*Surume likes novelty snacks, but doesn’t snack much otherwise. Cass is less… selective… (refer to immediate above)

**Cass still doesn’t really get consumerism.
Surume: There it is! The Kensa parka I was looking for!
Cass, abrasive and clueless: What’s the difference? It looks almost the same to the one you already have.
Surume, blasphemously exasperated pouting: No they’re not! That one’s from a different brand. You don’t see it?
Cass: ‘(I really don’t…)’

Optional - Rough Day
Kiwi returns wounded and tired (Doesn’t look like agent duty injuries…)
Gotten into a fight
She was fine! She wouldn’t be smiling if she wasn’t fine. Right? She’s alright.
Cass warily believes her, but leaves to get some bandaids and gauze
Kiwi looking at her search for some
‘I should have said something.
I should have.’

Worldbuilding - Inkopolis Square
With the rising stage presence of Splatsville and Off The Hook’s departure for a world tour, a bit of a vacuum has appeared in Inkopolis Square, giving rise to a diverse soundscape and unconventional gamemodes, while traditional matches have taken on a seriously competitive turn. It has become a proving ground of sorts; where the passionate thrive in spite of reduced support. It certainly isn’t what it once was, instead now a battleground fuelled by a power vacuum on multiple fronts.

8-ball
With Off The Hook out and about on their world tour, Eight figured she had some free time to spend on her own. (She didn’t envy them, though. They were super busy - celebrity life isn’t all that pretty up close...)

Joining up with Surume and Cass for a couple games of pool on a whim, the trio picked up their cues and got to a table.

“Well, I haven’t played pool in a while…” the gentle octo nervously laughed with a partial side glance, a little hesitant to embarrass herself.

“Eh, just hit it an’ you’ll remember!” Cass boldly remarked with a dismissive waved tentacle, whetting the tip of her cue with blue chalk like she certainly knew what she was doing. “Like this!” Driving her cue forth with reckless force, the assembled formation broke apart with a thunderous clack, billiards and cue ball both wildly scattering in errant directions.

“Ooo, you scored absolutely nothing!”

“Shaddup!”

“Your turn, Iv!”

Settling her nerves with a deep breath, Iveri opened her eyes as she fell silent with calculated precision, now calmly affixed to the puzzle laid before her and the black, spherical 8-ball as its centerpiece. She had her target now.

Lowering her body near to the table with an air of grace and precision, the focused agent proceeded to demonstrate an unforeseen amount of finesse with her shots; landing flawless ricochets and masse shots without fail as she sank shot after consecutive shot, practically rendering Cass and Surume as spectators for both games as they stood aside.

“She’s really good at this.” “Yeah, she is.”

Surume shrugged with an unfurled palm towards Cassandra, as if to tell that it were an obvious sight. “Well, that’s fair, ‘cause Iveri’s an amazing soldier!” The peppy inkling casually remarked as they stood about with their pool cues, still waiting for the virtual impossibility of Iveri making a mistake. “She’s had special training - Cap’n Cuttlefish even said she was equal to Three in reflexes and skills back then, and she’s only been getting sharper since!” The octoling in question only remained inattentive to the gleaming compliment, her mind still wholly focused on sinking the isolated 8-ball before her.

“I prefer the term agent,” The pink-tentacled octoling commented, standing back upright as the 8-ball rolled into a pocket and out of sight with a clean thunk. “Though I don’t really choose to fight as much anymore. It’s not my thing.”

Cass leaned back, now made curious of the gentle agent’s previous circ*mstance. “Where’d you learn to play pool so well?”

“I had… practice…” Iveri recounted, shuddering a little from a bad shiver down her metaphorical spine. Thankfully, the eight balls here are much, much smaller…

*Surume: It is Eight-ball, after all.

**Surume: God yeeteth and god yoinketh away.
Iveri takes 1 point of psychic damage.
Iveri: Please don’t say that ever again.

***I think that Octolings (especially older ones) would be really good at throwing skipping stones. Just a hunch.

Mem Cakes
Letting out a discontented sigh, Iveri contemplated the sickening sameness of each passing day. ‘When will things change?’ The lone octoling sat upon a shallow flight of steps as if it were a low chair, her coiled and pierced tentacles swaying lightly in the evening breeze. In her open palm sat a rubber-like mem-cake, one reminiscent of an agent in green as she wistfully reflected in the secluded silence.

A uniform rhythm of heavy footsteps on paved tiles echoed from behind her, preemptively announcing Cass’ presence as she placed down her Hydra and sat next to Iveri with a raised brow. “Looking at something?” The memory’s soft glow was faintly reflected in the agent’s hazel eyes which stared into a blank past; disjointed and incomplete.

“Just a memory of Three.”

The octoling leaned back somewhat, significantly less interested upon the senior agent’s mention. “Huh.”

In the prolonged moment of silence, Iveri’s eyebrows furrowed out of frustration, unable to glean any more answers to the ever-growing mound of questions that sat upon her palms.

The octoling agent’s stare lingered upon the transient memory as she spoke. “I only know parts of my past,” she sighed, the struggle clearly defined in her voice. “I’m only really sure of the present, which is so nice and calm. Do I really need to know who I was?”

“Well,” Cass tilted her head back slightly to find the words, neither a philosopher nor a therapist. “Would it give you that ‘peace of mind’ thingamajig you were looking for? Hell if I know.”

Iveri sighed listlessly as she looked down, feeling the closed hand kept close over her chest filled with uncertainty. “Maybe. I don’t know…”

With little else to say, Cass diverted her gaze to the slow-moving, ever-changing sunset clouds ahead of them.

“(…At least it’s over.)”

“(…Yeah.)”

*Iveri: Three really works hard all the time, combing back home exhausted on most days. It’s always really fulfilling for me to make her feel refreshed and at ease.

**Iveri likes to buy mushroom starter kits for her garden, though she produces more than she could reasonably eat. Surume loves them, while Cass more or less has had enough of the stringy kinds that grow on pipes and in damp corners.

The Girl Before Surume
‘Don’t think I’ve ever seen Kiwi’s real parents…’
Returning from practice, Cass climbed out of a rusted kettle in search of an absent Kiwi, curious of her whereabouts. An educated guess from Iveri over the phone had led her down a secluded pipeline in the corner of the plaza, and into a bright and open clearing of mostly rock and metal under a direct sun.

The area looked unfamiliar in the cloudy summer light, yet the smell of burnt metal and dusty winds in the distance was instantly recognisable. She had come face to face with the bridge between her two lives, now upon the greater perspective of Octo Valley: A cavernous pit devoid of activity and vegetation; inhabited by arid howling that echoed through the granite valley. Empty husks of kettles strained of life littered the barren landscape, with the little that remained fighting over even less. A sight that the Inkling agents would be more than accustomed to.

From afar, it seemed peaceful and undisturbed; as if nothing much had changed. But they knew what had transpired deep below the surface - the conflict, bloodshed and ruin - all buried below tonnes upon tonnes of sleepy rock, where the thousand-fold roots wouldn’t reach. Only the wind now dwelled here unseen.

Having adjusted to her surroundings with a muted huff, Cass approached a knowing Eight, who had presumably arrived somewhat earlier than the elite.

“Is Kiwi here?”

Eight’s hazel irises and elliptical pupils glanced over at Cass for a moment, before directing the soldier’s gaze to the open clearing ahead with a minute nod.

“She is.”

Further in front of the two sat Four in the distance, quietly absent from the conversation. Dressed in the distinct yellow of her uniform, the lone inkling’s legs hung off the surface world’s boundary as she sat upon the ledge, far from her chipper self as she remained in the hushing dissociative silence.
Before Cassandra could go to shake Surume out of her rut, Eight stopped her advance with an outstretched arm, letting the ruminating inkling be for now.

“She’s been struggling without Marie, Callie or Three to back her up - just carrying out her agent duties and patrols by herself,” Folding her arms in concern as they watched from afar, the octoling agent kept her voice just shy of her fellow agent’s pointed ears. “I didn’t hear too much about it, but Sumi had to go through a lot to reunite Callie with Marie,” she spoke. “For the first two or so years they were reunited, they would fight for months at a time. And in between would be Sumi.”

Letting out a solemn sigh, Iveri peered aside with downcast eyes as she remembered the agent’s then-wounded and listless appearance. “Sumi was really quiet and distant then, like she had shut down. I was really worried for her.”

“She’s doing better now, and she says so too — but sometimes I wonder if she’s really doing fine…”

Their eyes were guided to the stoic agent’s unchanging figure, led by a sudden breeze that picked up behind them.

“…or if she’s just pretending to be.”

Fixated upon the vacant distance, Surume’s yellow stare remained unchanging, dull and devoid of lustre like rotted gold. Driven by subconsciousness, her hands combed at her skin, digging at the peeling bits that were felt between her fingers.

Optional - Insight
Later that day, Cass came up with a peculiar question out of the blue.

“Just curious, Kiwi — what made you become an agent?”

The inkling took off her custom-painted headphones with a few blinks, somewhat surprised to be receiving such spontaneity for once. “Eh? Umm…” Scouring her mind for a sufficient answer, she repeatedly tapped her finger to her lips in thought, her tuft lazily flopping from one side to the other. “Well, it’s fun! And, uh…”

“…I was gifted with a nice childhood - not having to worry about food, a warm home, good parents that loved me,” she listed, giving the question a little more thought. “It’s a little sad that so many of my friends have rough pasts and I can’t do anything about it.” Childhood, financial security, love, stability and fulfilment - she was really lucky to have it all, in that regard.

Placing her fist upon her palm, Surume looked back at Cass with sudden conviction and revitalised pep, having found the words to brightly describe her motive. “That’s why I gotta do all that I can! I gotta be better - so that I don’t waste what everyone gave me. No matter what it takes!”

The typically easygoing inkling’s energetic voice fell a few decibels as she began to reminisce softly; a spoken thought held close. “When I came to Inkopolis, I was given a chance. She said I had a spark like the one before me; Kaori.”

“I have to make sure it’s still there.”

*Surume occasionally stays back at her parents’ home for a couple of days at a time. On those days, it’s more like when they weren’t roommates.

Ear Cleaning
Emerging from the bathroom with a fresh change of clothes, Surume walked over and plopped herself right next to the lazy kelp-matted octo, swivelling something about in her ear as she eagerly watched for a response. “Hey Cassie, do you wanna try this?”

Cass eyed the action with a wary eyebrow, knowing better than to trust something she couldn’t touch. “What’s that?“

“It’s a cotton tip,” Surume peppily chimed, before swiftly shoving one straight into the cautious octo’s ear. (She didn’t even see that. How did she even do that?)

Cass’ body felt weak. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as it dug about, limbs feebly twitching with each slight movement - it felt like it was about to scrape her brain matter out if Surume wasn’t careful.

“ughlughghllfjkh”

“Feels nice, right?” Surume nonchalantly giggled, blithely ignoring the feisty octoling’s cringing and - “ghjfklgjhfd” …sounds of 'approval' as she continued to fiddle about.

“”””House”””” “”””Pet””””
Having met up in the quieter outskirts of the city just as Surume finished her Grizzco shift, the cephaling pair was joined by a familiar face (or grill, for that matter) from over the waterfront’s railings, passively rolling and rattling beside them with a contented toot.

“Huh? Owh, look Cassie, it’s Squeegee! What’s it doing all the way out here?”

“Beats me. Seems like it followed you back to Inkopolis.” Digging into her own pocket, the unbothered octoling tossed the Griller a curry block, which went down the iron behemoth’s metal hatch before it promptly disappeared back into the depths, seemingly satiated and satisfied.

“How could we keep it? Maybe like a neighbourhood pet?”

“Eh, guess it wouldn’t hurt to feed it from time to time.”

Optional - Wixed Mords
Surume: You know — the - when you swip the flitch dugh-kuffe-yaght-pthubtthhubbdah?
Cass, squinting: …What?

Trinkets
By now, Cassandra has amassed a small collection of seemingly random doodads and trinkets, resulting in a small pile of shiny glass shards, keychains and dried petals among other things, kept both at home and on her person as charms and keepsakes. Surume almost mistook it for a magpie’s hoard one time - Cass explains it’s so that “she can remember things and people.”

*The sight kinda instigates the collector in Surume. Not that she exactly knows how to organise it… Cass herself probably doesn’t, either…

Optional - Laughter
Gahahaha!
Gahaha?
Suddenly made embarrassed and self-conscious of her own laugh
*You think yourself a comedian?
I’ve got the biggest clown shoes on this side of the continent,
Want to compare sizes?

Transparency
Honesty is a policy. One that sometimes needs to be implemented manually…
Slipping into the room with an unusual lack of brashness or crassness, the kelp-banded Cassandra approached her roommate with a question. “Hey, Kiwi…”

The cardigan-wearing inkling looked up from her laptop, raising her rounded eyebrows at what was pretty much her second name. “Yeah?” Despite the direct confrontation, Cass’ voice carried a kind of uncertainty; her boisterous and feisty tone clouded with acute restlessness and worry.

“Am I - uhm, am I insufferable in any way? Like, uhh, habits?”

Cass’ sudden meekness and aversion earned her a blank stare from Surume as only more questions formed in the inkling’s mind - What could have possibly gotten the unrepentant likes of Cass this flimsy and nervous?

“Huh? What’s going on?”

Forced to clarify, the insecure octoling had to swallow her pride like a grape lodged rather uncomfortably in her throat before she could continue. “Like, I know we’re pretty tolerant of each other… but we can’t really expect to be aware of each other’s needs all the time, right?”

“Mm.”

“I wanna make sure I’m not just crossing your limits and you’re pretending to be okay about it,” she stammered, holding onto her other arm. “…Have some time to completely clear with each other, or something.” It didn’t take much to tell, but the words coming out of Cass’ mouth were unusually robotic and borrowed - she was never the most reasonable or emotionally savvy and yet here she was, trying to listen to Kiwi’s needs. But if she was honestly willing to compromise and correct herself, it was all Kiwi needed to know.

“Well… nothing I’m not okay with. I’ll tell you if it’s too much for me,” the colourful inkling reassured, bearing a cheerful smile as always. Hearing those words, Cass let out half a sigh of relief - with that out of the way, it was finally time for her to ask the real question.

“…Can I get a blanket of my own?”

“Ooh! Let’s get two!”

*Please note that due to Surume’s near-bottomless wardrobe, she practically always has a new outfit each time.

**Also, Cass did in fact recite that. She didn’t know a speck of what she just said. Only that it worked.

Recharge
On a particularly featureless day in, Surume worked on her due assignments, among other things. Despite the weekday comforts of her home and simple clothing, the inkling was largely left alone with her thoughts; some of which she would rather not listen to…

“…”

In the moment of solitude, a creeping presence seeped into her mind. One, and then another, and then many more; slipping past the cracks from within. It shrouded her with sudden existential weight, suppressing her mind and emotions alike.

Her lips tightened into a frown and her eyes furrowed for just a moment, before her expression dropped entirely.

“…”

The inexplicable dread coiled itself over her mouth as doubt seized her sight, festering in her eyes as it held them open. Her hands began to pick and scratch at the scabs on her skin out of anxious habit, caught in a haze of bad thoughts.

She felt empty. Missing.

With what little willpower she had left, she could only reach out.

“…Cassie?”

Cassandra promptly entered the room, coming face to face with a lowly Surume. Her solemn figure stood there with downcast eyes, crestfallen and silent - it was concerning to see someone so unshakable and upbeat like this.

“Uh… Are you okay?” The inkling simply shook her head, unable to respond further.

Unsure of what to do, Cass lifted her outstretched arms towards the crestfallen inkling, mimicking what she had learnt as she carefully awaited a response.

“…You want a hug?”

Without a word, Surume sluggishly moved into Cass’ arms, allowing herself to be swallowed by the embrace. The inkling’s hollow expression remained completely still as she grasped at Cass’ shirt to feed off their warmth, herself feeling cold to the touch.

(As the day passed, the inky fog within her mind persisted. Even as the night approached did the inkling remain under the duress of her mind, distant and preoccupied by murky thoughts.)

Getting into bed at night’s call, Cass looked over at the dissociative and withdrawn inkling that laid beside her. “Still feeling down, Kiwi? C‘mere!” the bold and direct octoling urged as she vigorously patted the vacant spot next to her, inviting Surume to scoot in. Suppose the octoling’s bonding skills from harsher times still came in handy, even ‘til now.

Between Cass’ arms around her and the comfort of the bed, Kiwi felt warm; safe. Like she was guarded from her worries…

As the acute haze in her mind receded like a withdrawing tide, Surume closed her eyes with slowing breaths as they rested, now able to fall asleep in the once desolate night and awaken to the reassuring light of tomorrow.

*They have their down days. No one lives in an eternal, perfect happily ever after - it’s not like traumas and scars heal overnight, after all...

**Cass is not a sappy softie, but she isn’t a completely brickheaded brute, either. In fact, Cass probably cries more easily than Surume.

***Why are so many of my prompts about sleep/resting? I might need to look into that...

Pillow Swapout
“And… done.” With a particularly tedious bit of her assignment done and her laptop closed shut, Surume leaned back in her chair to do a biiiiig stretch, unfolding her hands and arms over her head with a deep breath.

Able to relax for the rest of the afternoon, the animated inkling scooted off her chair and hopped over to the other side of the room, where she found Cass lazily napping on the bed, conveniently blocking out the light with their thick dexterous tentacles. In the sleeping kelp-banded octoling's possession was a yellow squid cushion, tucked loosely in their arms.

Surume silently watched the comfily still octoling doze as the gears shifted in her stalled brain - one could almost hear the dial-up connection being made to a brain cell call centre (BCCC)…

‘Hmm…’ Shrinking down into her swim form at a impulsive thought, Surume leapt onto the bed, bringing her closer to the sleeping octo and, more importantly, the similarly-sized cushion in their arms. (It silently taunted her, boasting about its superior and rather enviable position.)

‘What if… just,, squeezed in there…’ Sliding over, the yellow squid began to push, nudge and shove the pillow from below, attempting to slip into her soft doppelgänger’s position. With enough squirming and squeezing, Surume eventually managed to tuck and wedge her pointy, arrow-shaped fins over Cass’ arms, successfully usurping the cushion that now dejectedly sat on the floor. “Ah! There we go.” Whilst snugly adjusting herself in her new-stolen spot, Surume glanced up a little, immediately followed by a double take as she met Cass’ violet-lined grey and green eyes, wide open and staring back down at her.

“Um. Hi?”

Chapter 27: Detour - Optional Chapter VOYAGER

Chapter Text

Optional Chapter - Comeuppance
In the same match? It’s on sight.
- Tower
- Voyager’s getting stomped for a bit
- Nautilus parry Octobrush
- Lucky break, fizzy bomb breaks backline
- Loch hangs back due to fear of K/D
- Lockout, all four anchored and revved
- Knockout!
- Just the morale boost they needed.
- Loch leaves for ‘fresher places’, not wanting to accept his defeat
- Nipped it in the bud that time
*While his team is good, Loch himself was unimpressive.
**Wister: *breathes*
Loch: I f*cking hate you. Shut up. I don’t even want to look at your face, trash. You shouldn’t even be here — God I hate you so f*cking much. I’m gonna tear out your guts! I can’t wait to beat you down until you become a sobbing mess! Shut up! SHUT UP! *Genuine vitriol*

Chapter 28: Chapter 21 - Autumn’s Arrival

Chapter Text

Chapter 21 - Autumn’s Arrival
“I remember the loud, bright flashes of display.”

Summer had held on dearly for as long as it could, but it was now time for it to leave, as its long days and languid heat had begun to subside. In the meantime, the surface had been abuzz with late summer festivity. There was no shortage of anticipation and commotion in the form of frantic preparations and chatter all around, starting from the week leading up to the very day itself. It was practically inescapable: from friends to coworkers and the conversations of passer-by’s, one would be hard-pressed to find someone not preparing for the festival of change in some margin. Heralding a stark difference in seasons, people were expected to ‘change’ with it; be it resolution or decision, with the aim of welcoming the gradual differences all around them - a daunting prospect for the stubborn and nervous alike.

Entering the main festival venue of the decorated city outskirts as the sun began to set, Surume made her way through a crowd packed tighter than a tin of sardines, looking for her friends somewhere in the mix. The lanky inkling was dressed to the nines for the occasion; wearing a signature orange-yellow patterned yukata with wooden sandals and an array of yellow flowers atop her head; visibly elaborate and energetic.

The ever-spontaneous inkling lifted Jeeves up to her chest, having carried him in her arms the whole way here. He was also rather handsomely dressed, wearing a floral-patterned shirt primarily meant for retirement homes and also dinners at Golden Coral. “Nope! Just me and Jeeves for now!” No matter the situation, the easygoing inkling could always find a way to be carefree in the moment.

Banding together out of habit, the three of them started to make their way though the crowd.

“It’ll be my first time celebrating this without Three,” Iveri pondered. “I would be lying if said I didn’t feel a bit lonely.”

Surume could only respond with a dry stare and dropped shoulders, certainly sick and salty of listening to their lovesick sappiness. “Boo-hoo,” she groaned.

“Oh, quiet you,” Iveri lightheartedly giggled and punched her in the shoulder. “Speaking of which - is Cass coming?”

“Cassie said she wouldn’t come,” Surume commented with a quick glance. “I tried, but she really wasn’t sure of it.” Iveri raised an eyebrow at the unusual answer. “Oh really? That’s a bit disappointing. Change is scary, I suppose.”

With a couple of skewers and snacks from the many nearby stalls to sate their appetites, they continued to pass the time, ready to watch the fireworks go up into the open sky.
Amidst the constant chatter of the festival crowd, Surume turned around with a twitch of her pointed ears, hearing a familiar voice behind her. “Hm? I hear someone…”

“H-hey, Surume… and Iveri…” The shaky-yet-rough voice that emerged from the crowd belonged to none other than Cassandra, who arrived alongside Wister, Penguin, Sundew and Puffin. Besides stiffly stepping about in the unfamiliar festive violet robe, the kelp-banded octoling also sported a fresh tentacut, already looking considerably fresher and lighter even if it was just a tidy and trim.

“Cass! You made it!” Iveri cheered.

“Owh wow,” Surume complimented as she smiled at the elite, almost forgetting to breathe for a moment. “You - um, you look different!”

“It’s just a small change,” Cass let out a small nervous laugh as she looked up at her reduced fringe, still a little uncertain of her decision. “I needed a tentacut anyways.”

The enamoured inkling blinked a couple of times, before finally remembering to look Cass down and up. “Owh, and that’s the style that I said would look good, and it does suit you! You really trust me, huh?”

The well-dressed elite responded with a much more natural bellowing laugh. “Gahaha! Of course I trust you! Of all the times I’ve turned my back to you, not even once have you taken the chance to smack my cheeks!” Cass toothily grinned as she turned her back to Surume, proudly declaring something she needn’t be proud of nor declare.

The singular expression remained in Cass’ mind, frozen wholly. It made her wordlessly stand there for a while, completely Out Of It as Sundew’s copper-birch hand repeatedly waved in front of her to no avail.

‘(Ah.)’
‘(ah.)’

“No thanks,” Surume refused as dismissively turned down her offer. She was pretty certain it was supposed to be her dragging Cassie into stuff and not the other way around, right? “I don’t really wanna drink right now,” she answered.

“OIIII! ANYONE THINK THEY CAN OUTDRINK ME!? GAHAHAHAAA!” Cassandra’s brine-fuelled brashness had begun to attract a bit of a crowd, much to the chagrin of the rest of the group (mainly Wister, who was busy getting headlocked by Cass) just as the bubbly Surume began to spin some juicy tales with her mouth.

*Iveri, who partially overheard on call: …I’ll ask them tomorrow.

**Voyager was watching from the sidelines as Cass and Surume got escorted out by an equally chagrined Iveri and Wister.
Puffin: …
Sundew: …With her around, it’s never a dull moment.
Penguin: Ain’t ever so!

***Since Cass decided late, she didn’t know how to wear it correctly and had to ask Sundew to fit it properly.
Also: Penguin was planning to show up wearing an even worse hat.
Earlier…
Penguin, wearing a Brain Strainer: Hey Boss, you think I can pull this off?
Puffin: Ewww! No!
Sundew: *dry wheeze*
Penguin, miffed and pouty: I didn’t ask for your opinions. Boss?
Wister, caught off guard: Nhk!?
Wister:
Wister: Get your goofy ass out of that thing.
Penguin: Aww…

Chapter 29: Chapter 21b - Hangover

Chapter Text

Chapter 21b - Hangover
“I remember the awful headache that followed.”

Suppose they went a little too hard.

Eyelids twitching just as she roused from a featureless sleep with hardly any recollection of the night before, Cass immediately let out a pained grunt, having been greeted by a splitting headache as she woke up to the bright light of midday.

“Uuurgh…” Placing a palm on her forehead, Cass blindly patted over at her side in search of an absent inkling, unable to get up. “Kiwi… Kiwi…?”

A bleary voice arose from the floor as Surume sickly sniffled in place, similarly grovelling in pain from, well, everything.

“The light hurts.”

Getting out of their kimonos and into some much comfier homewear, the two sloshed, hammered, clotheslined, blended and discombobulated cephalings dragged themselves downstairs and into the day-lit neighbourhood in search of a hangover cure. Surume brought her pillow along for the ride too, while a couple of small crows trotted along behind their step.

Shuffling over to a small local Octarian eatery just around the block, the two sloppily-dressed cephies walked into a tinted sliding door, paused, and then past the sliding door into a small refashioned home of traditional woodwork and design. The eat-and-go demeanour of the business had left the place in a quiet lull, having just seen the lunch rush hour through.

“One…”
“(Make that two…)”

The sluggish pair could hardly open their eyes, let alone mumble their orders - but that was all the elderly couple running the place needed to know. With an affirming nod, they gestured to the two to take a seat at the unoccupied counter.

Served a piping hot bowl of spicy clam soup each in a moment, Cass and Surume wordlessly began to lap away in tired spoonfuls. There was not much said between them, both lacking the capacity to converse as they sluggishly cleared their senses side by side. The elderly couple running the store seemed to lightheartedly understand the situation, letting out a giggle and a chuckle as their aged expressions gave to sprightly smiles; themselves reminded of a time when they too once did the same.

*Hangover soup, or haejang-guk.

*Cass blacked out for a second in the midst of her bowl, thus earning a face-ful of soup.

*Inky Skies
A couple days later as they were going about:
Surume: I wonder if they’ll be back soon. Eight does have a bit of separation anxiety.
Cass: Huh? Kiwi, look.
Far above their heads, huge splashes of yellow and purple ink could be seen beyond the clouds, idly floating in the stratosphere.
For the following few days, a light and persistent ink shower rained throughout Inkadia and most other regions of the world, for an entire two days and three nights.

Chapter 30: Chapter 22 - The Cast Returns

Chapter Text

“*koff* (c’est la vie…!) I’m going to have to scrub this out of your tentacles when we get back…”

*They would be napping the ride back - if it weren't for someone that was terribly stinky...

*Marie typically drives a six/eight-seater SUV that can transport the whole team (undesirably dubbed the Mariemobile by Callie), and Callie drives a pink two-seater city scooter for their day-to-day use.

Chapter 31: Chapter 23 - Wrong place, Wrong time

Chapter Text

Now kept within the cabin that they were being chased around, Cass and Surume sat at a low coffee table, with a seething and stern Marie circling around them like a shark in chummy waters. The octoling could barely sit on her rear at all, whereas the yellow-tentacled inkling had a tower of bumps of biblical proportions atop her head — it was an interrogation; the very stern parent kind that did not bode well for them at all.
The white-green inkling sparingly tapped a folding fan against her palm, insinuating a ticking sense of dread in her two captives.

Keeping her composure by a razor’s edge, Marie had to take deep breaths to prevent herself from imploding into a Killer Wail right on the spot. “Four, could you stand outside for a bit?” Marie sighed as she tilted her head back, pinching the bridge of her nose.

*(Marie was found in a slump for the next few hours.)

Chapter 32: Story Snippets V - Judd's Out of The Bag

Chapter Text

RECAP - 6:30PM
- Cass catches up with Kiwi at a train platform
- Hanging out as they wait for the train
- Kiwi is returning from campus, Cass got back from practicing with Voyager
- Reintroduce their appearance, personality by conversation
- "Owh!"
- "Practice was good?"
- "Yeah! Ranked season’s ending soon, so we’ll have to soldier on and fight even harder!"
- Proudly bobbing her Hydra as she carried it over her shoulder
- "Heh, still stuck on that boring paperwork?"
- "I just got done with my semester’s final assignments, but I have to catch up on my part-time and my ‘other work’ soon. Ah well - I’ll get it done!"
- "Voyager’s taking a day off, so let’s eat something good tomorrow! I wanna eat some department store meals!"
- "Ooh! We could also go shopping, maybe go to the arcade too! I've been eyeing some new clothes."

*Felt like recapping their characteristics.

*Q: If they’re new hires, do they get paid?
A (Marie): They get paid in work experience.

**FOUR! FOUR POSSIBLE PERSONAS! AND I CAN’T CHOOSE AAAAAAAGH so it’s like this now. I’ll detail them here since they’re hardly brought up elsewhere.

Neo3(FO): Matako is a passionate (read: nerdy) Salmonid cultural researcher and enthusiast - No fear of nature itself, but a little timid in general.
Neo3(FI): Veronika is particularly fixative and independent feral inkling that coexists with Salmonids, typically non-compliant except to certain people she likes - headstrong, direct (almost deadpan), instinctual
Neo3(MI): Mikael is a means-well, chatty and impulsive hothead with his daft moments. A little mean and angry at times, gets into fights because of it.
Neo3(MO): Takobi is a gentle and placid person with a tad bit of naïveté, but is far from helpless. Likened to Big Man.

Veronika lives in the Splatlands in a one-person box apartment close to the railway. She comes over to visit Inkopolis from time to time, but largely operates independently. She mainly works as a scavenging scrapper, and came into the Splatlands on her own.
Matako lives a little further out, but gets to the Splatlands by train for schooling and work. Studies Salmonid culture in her own time, does not work for GrizzCo out of principle.
Mikael just moved into town from the much cushier Inkopolis Square. He’s a little hotheaded and spoiled, getting into fights with Veronika often and sometimes picks on Matako.
Takobi was born and raised in the Splatlands. Mainly confused but welcoming of the sudden influx. Has local islander vibes, oblivious to Dome Octarian culture.

Funny Alternate Idea: Puffin is Neo3. Cass would disapprove soooo much… haha.

***Marie: That spark thing I mentioned to Four? I don’t really remember what I told her — I just really needed an inkling to show up soon…

*Hope? It’s literally just Inkopolis that’s like that…
**Veronika possibly swallows her food whole.
Cass: Damn Turf kids… they don’t even care to savour the food before they fight, and just down it in three bites!
Surume: You’re just saying that ‘cause you got heartburn from doing that to your salmon wrap yesterday.

“Does he know any tricks?”

“He just eats and sleeps all the time.”

“So just like Cassie!”

*Veronika/Neo3: Sometimes I bring Little Buddy some salmon eggs to eat. I call it a snack, but my friends call it ‘freaky’ and ‘a cannibalistic affront to god’.

(As much as Cass was touchy about the topic, she later realised it to be oddly comforting in a way: to the once-starved girl, having a bit of chub meant that she had been eating well again; no longer needing to wait or wonder when the next meal may be. She still hated the look, though.)

Optional - Juicy
- Cass is pleasantly snacking on a succulent pear (read: absolutely demolishing - both hands, tearing and gnawing with juice dripping messily over a trashcan)
- “Horf, mngah, slurp…”
- Wister: Could you stop eating your pear like a goddamn barbarian?
- Cass: *Looks up* Hey, it’s just a snack - it never hurt you. Plus, you’re just jealous you’ve never had a pear this juicy, eh?
- Wister: Slightly envious sigh as he averted his stare.

*Cass, to Surume: Guess who caught me eating the juiciest pear again. He wasn’t even mad. Just disappointed.

**Penguin: I don’t eat pineapples because I don’t like the sharp skin.
Wister, Sundew: You eat the skin!?
Penguin: Why would I eat it if I don’t like it!?

Baking, or: Cass Can’t Bake For sh*t
Eager to share her passions, Surume got Cass to bake some cookies.
It went about as well as one could reasonably expect.
Below is an excerpt of a chat log.

...

Surume: eliter4kfalling.mp8

~Today~

Surume: ok GIRLS so,,, cassie ad I made some cookies and.

Insert image: reallysh*tcookies.png. (It was glistening, with a consistency like slurry? Undercooked?)

Cass misread the instructions, added waaay too much butter

Cass: ITS NOT MY FAULT I CANT READ INKLISH

Surume: THIS IS AMAZING I CANT *cry* *cry* *cry*

Cass: its alright though

Ivy: Please stop eating that or I’ll have to spray you with water

Ivy: @Surume Have you told her to stop eating that?

Cass: My stomach kinda hurts but imma finish it

Iveri: STOP EATING IT

Kaori: *Eyes* *popcorn*

Cass: holdon i can fix it

Cass starts adding stuff on top, stuff that shouldn’t be added, making things worse

Cass: XgIF3n71jO.jpg. (it was the same tray of buttersludge, but worse: 1 leafy green was lodged into the side, sticking out of a layer of white cream, alongside some suspiciously familiar whole red blocks lodged throughout.)

Cass: Ya see Iveri? Im eating vegetables

Iveri: NO!!!

Iveri: …is that whipped cream

Surume: it’s sour cream and curry blocks

Surume: (Sticker of Judd gagging. You know exactly how it looks.)

Surume: mistakealacass.png. (An unfocused image of Cass shoving the slop into her open maw with her hands, morbidly reminiscent of Saturn Devouring His Son.)

*Update from Surume: Cassie has been groaning on the toilet for two hours now. I think she’s hemorrhaging.

**Surume is a phenomenal baker. She also is willing to sacrifice a product for a joke.

Optional - Tableturf or Worse (Tableturf is a very Splatlands thing)

Cass only loses, VeronIKA is a monster at Tableturf

"This ain’t fair!"

"Let’s play this, then!"

re: Worst game of monopoly image (Surume’s in jail, Kaori is throwing dosh over VeronIKA, Cass overlooking a dead Iveri)

Surume: C’mon, Kaori! We need to team up! Iveri!?

Kaori: Don’t act like you didn’t snatch the last property I needed five minutes ago.

Surume: You’re literally doing this to spite me! I didn’t do anything to deserve this!

Kaori: Sure you didn’t.

Iveri: It’s amazing that you’re also capable of maths, besides breathing.

Surume: *realisation* wh- huh???? what did you say???

New3: You wanna team up? Iveri: Yeah!

New3: You wanna team up? Kaori: ?

They’re literally handshaking against Surume

Four crinkling and scrunkling with a small ‘uauAuauAuauAuau’ in defeat

*Iveri: Ahh~ That was a great game - let’s leave whatever happened there in the past, okay?
Kaori: (This isn’t over. I’m coming for you.)
Surume: I’m splatting Iv.

**Ever heard of Dokapon Kingdom? If you thought Monopoly was bad…

*Callie: It took me like, um, 20 years. Twenty years to figure out that Marie is actually cool?

**Callie is Cassandra’s (and now also Surume’s) landlady, which is a weird thought…

***Four had a noticeable inferiority complex against Three (and especially Eight) when they were younger. She still does, a little bit.

*Marie: Four’s a really instinctual girl. I wonder how she is doing… how she smells now…
Surume, spontaneously appearing: Ueh?
Marie, startled: Hp—!! You still do that even now, huh…

**It is easy to forget that Marie is a country girl. She still has energy and playfulness, albeit in a much more reserved and backhanded manner. And she has her own eccentricities… (Agent Factopedia, anyone?)

“Heh. Sure. One day - you’ll be like me.”

Surume looked down again at the rival’s once-held weapon that now laid inert near her shoes. She opted not to think about it too much as she left, and yet, it would remain there; for days upon weeks upon years.

With a click and a rattle of the doorknob, the door of their apartment swung open as Cassandra nonchalantly returned from her matches, offloading her equipment for the day.

“Hey! I need that!”

*Surume really likes her agent jacket. She treats it as casual loungewear when she’s not wearing it on duty.

The thoughtless compliment made Iveri choke up all of a sudden; verbally overrun by snotty sniffles as she started to shed tears of joy, much to Cass’ perplexity and the other agent's groans.

Optional - Migraines
- Bus ride out of town for a bit
- Surume feels terrible for no reason, cranky too
- Unusually quiet, annoyed expression
- Huffy, little patience, snappy, still
- “Look! What’s that over there?”
- “Could you stop talking for a while?”
- “Huh? No, Kiwi, loo—”
- Grabs her collar fiercely
- “One more word and I’ll nail your head to the wall.” Deathly hostile stare, reeeally upset
- Silent moment, struggling to be honest
- “My head hurts so much…” Eyes barely able to open as she winced from the pressure. ”…I just feel awful right now.”
- "You want some wate-" "No."
- Cass is Keeping quiet, patiently looking aside disinterestedly
- Resting her head on Cass’ shoulder is the only appreciative notion Surume makes, otherwise still passive-aggressive
- “Thanks. Cassie.” Surume closes eyes, letting out a sigh of discomfort
- “You’d do the same for me.”

Ghost Mushrooms

"They're like mushrooms, but see through," Cass lazily replied, placing her head and arms on the table. "No nutritional value, though..."

Permanent Residence
“…Ooh! Do you wanna do some bomb jumping in some Turf Wars?”

“Yep, I applied for it a while back!” Cass slyly chuckled, responding to the excited inkling with an equally bright and toothy grin. “I promised that I would never leave you, right?”

“Cassieeeee!!”

*Cass, looking at her IC: Damn. Couldn’t they have taken a better photo…
Surume, sitting on the bed: Guess we’re living together and everything for realsies, huh…
Cass: So much for temporary university stay.
Surume, all chummy: Does that mean I can stay here without paying rent?
Cass: Gahaha! No.
Surume, sighing: Worth a shot.

Optional - Double Date, Tuckered Out, Genuine Expression
- Cass and Kiwi, Iveri and Kaori
- Outing with the four of them
- “Last time we all got together was at the pier…”
- “So let’s do something fun this time - Ooh!” Cut off her own sentence “Let’s go to an arcade or something! I wanna get a kick out of stuff! “
- “Rather than kicking stuff like vending machines? I use my head for that.”
- "Yeah! Yeah!" (Being a pair of finheads…)
- “My collection’s gonna outgrow yours soon!”
- “That’s not a collection, that’s a hoard. They’re not even of the same series!”
Later…
- Cass and Kiwi were beat, fully drained of energy as they slumped back against their chairs with heavy eyelids. In the relative quiet, the two leaned against each other as they rested, too tired to care as Iveri and Kaori sat across them.
- Kaori felt the need to silently clap back at Surume after all this time with a smug stare.
- ‘Who’s the lovesquid now, huh?’

*Four is Three’s biggest hater (sisterly), if it wasn’t obvious already.
**Cass is highly committal and poor at moderation. Either she does or she doesn’t, oftentimes - it gives her a rather heavy-handed sense of emotions.
***Marie still doesn't know Four's name. Surume’s deliberately seeing how long this will go on for.

**Octarians are less associated with family than, say, Inklings. Though that could be just in the domes...

Chapter 33: Chapter 24 - Waning Sunshine

Chapter Text

Word of a team was going around — one that used only a single type of weapon. An absurd idea at best, yet one that was so morbidly intriguing to watch. Their performance had attracted some attention, but now, it was time to take it up a notch. Inkadia’s High Tide: an annual triple-bracket tournament for A, S and X teams to compete. With its sister tournament Low Tide, the two local tournaments marked the start of some sea-rious coverage; coveted by teams and free agents alike as a stage to perform towards both sides of the sport.

And would one have it, a familiar name could be heard announced for the upcoming match. With the brightly-lit arena just ahead, the commentators’ hyping voices and the roaring crowd were drowned out by deafening heartbeats as the team traded nods. All eyes would be on them now.

“…You might not have seen ‘em, but you definitely have heard of ‘em! They’re all about sending a message - one that spins up and lets loose!” the announcers boomed. “From Inkopolis Square, this rising team has finally gotten some rep after years of rut, back like a cult classic! Give it up for Team VOYAGER!”

An astronaut, a jet pilot, a deep-sea diver, a sailor and a wandering nomad entered the stage; revealing themselves and their weapons to the crowd’s roaring cheers. Amidst the reveals, the nomad’s tattered scrap cloak and net mesh veil was tossed high to the wind, revealing Cass in her full attire as she carried the metallic brunt of a Hydra in a single hand.

Pointing into the air, her lifted finger pointed towards a nearby drone camera as she flashed a bold, toothy grin.

“This one’s for you, Sunny!”

Before long, the two tired cephalings settled in early for some well-earned rest.

“Murky! Come, look!” As the drifting winds brushed past and gently caressed her limbs, Cass followed the innocent voice down to the shoreline, to where her long-lost kin watched a rising sun together for the first time.

“…It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s bright…”

“…” Cass silently watched her family admire the sunrise. Watching daybreak’s serenity with them felt like everything she wished for; it felt like it could have been a dream.

*The High Tide and Low Tide Tournaments are cohosted by Salty Steve and CrayJam, the creator of the show ‘Will It Krill?’.

Chapter 34: Chapter 25 - In the Hero’s Time of Need

Chapter Text

Chapter 25 - In the Hero’s Time of Need
“I remember what I’ve gained since I’ve come here.”

“…”

"I..."

Once again, the fate of her loved ones rested upon her shoulders.
It slowly bled out from under her fingers with each passing second.
Forced to bet it all in a last-ditch effort once more,
she slowly trudged onwards with an undying tenacity in each step;
barely able to lift her legs along the perilous ascent
As they went towards a hole in a fractured sky.

*She was supposed to be a seedling. She failed to bloom perfectly.

**A possibility where Surume could 'slip through the cracks'.

Chapter 35: Chapter 25.5 - Frigid Breaths

Chapter Text

Another breath, and it all went dark.

Chapter 36: Chapter 26 - Convalescence

Chapter Text

“(…You're still someone to me.)”

Once the rain of catatonic tears came to a lull, a serenity was ushered in its place, felt like soothing winds over a little tidal pool as the tide went out. Coming to her senses, Surume glanced down as she felt the weight of Cass’ tired hand gently rest upon her own; felt like the reassuring warmth of daybreak.

“Four! Are you okay!? We left as soon as we heard—”

As they dissolved into the cityscape to rest, a group of faint red glows covertly watched them from under a manhole’s cover, before hastily slipping into the familiar darkness. Ire and disbelief filled their whispers of certain intent - they had their traitor now.

*Injuries, if left untreated or repeated enough times, can remain as visible scars on cephalings’ bodies and are ‘remembered’ across respawns.

**Surume was caught between a lot of Callie and Marie’s fights. Their hatred leached into her ears and mind, creating a strong sense of self-loathing.

Chapter 37: Chapter 27 - The Cold Case Thaws

Chapter Text

Done with his murderous outrage, Pebble pushed Cass aside to lividly shake his head in disbelief and mutter under his spent breath. She could feel their judgement weigh heavy upon her guilt-stained soul, each of their familiar stares filled with disdain and disgust.

“(I-)" Cass stuttered with wide eyes, hesitating for a brief moment as her heart flinched and ached. Was she dreaming? She must have been. But… even if she was…

Tetri finally gave in to the genuine warmth.

“(It’s getting late. Let’s head back for the night.)”

*The smallest, Faith, is sanitised (confused, loopy, constant blank stare), the mohawk dude Pebble became fuzzy (still an asshat, has mammalian incisors), the youngest one Mag is an elite by succession (stern and uptight, pink tentacles but already wearing kelp bands). They can be quite sassy with each other, Pebble and Tetri particularly.

Chapter 38: Chapter 28 - Catching Up / Wounds Painfully Become Scars

Chapter Text

Chapter 28 - Catching Up / Wounds Painfully Become Scars
'...what now?'

“(Tetri’s her real name. We call her Murkwater because of that one time-)” “(Shut it already!)”

“(...You’re named Tetri?)”

In the serene agony, Cass felt Surume’s comforting grasp entwine around her empty hand. A subtle presence could be felt in the very air itself - the closing winds of a moment; a chapter; a lifetime; a year.

**After they hosted the three and saw them off, Cass and Kiwi realised something a bit late.
Cass: Does Iveri have a vacuum or *hh—COUGH!* something we can *koff* use…?
Kiwi: *Pthbnk!* *sniff* mayhbe. Mae-be.

***A certain concentration/payload of fuzz is needed to convert a non-mammalian. Mr. Grizz’s produced ooze is of a near-absolute purity, causing fuzzification at a single touch whereas fuzzy cephies effectively cannot infect others (save for a rare few but very notable cases…)

Chapter 39: Story Snippets VI - Free Bird

Chapter Text

Snippets VI - Free Bird

Unlikely - Coffee Night
Cass actually kinda misses those late-shifts where it’d just be her and a couple others keeping guard and having sh*tty coffee in the dark as the rest sleep. Can’t believe she misses those…
Kiwi comes up with the idea of a coffee night - just them and a few others having coffee and drinks in a dim night, followed by late-night whatever.

Optional - To be Changed is to be Loved
Surume wakes up, enters the bathroom and freshens up
Glimpse of the myriad scars in the mirror
A form of change, development, growth. Maybe in another life she wouldn't have gotten them.
But...
Looks at her changed reflection with a teary smile.
It’s still her.

“It’s already late autumn again…” Iveri muttered as she plucked out some stray fallen leaves caught between her tentacurls. “It’s spooky season!” Surume chirped back, almost completely back on her bullsh*t already - between the shorter days and grey skies, the laid-back season had a feeling best described as ‘spooky’, if not ‘cozy’, as everyone started to wear their long-sleeved shirts and cardigans as it drew ever nearer.

“A-a haunted what?”
“Ooh! Good idea, Iv!” The trendy, laid-back inkling applauded, pointing at her with snappy finger guns before turning to Cass’ apprehensively coiled tentacles with a cheeky grin. “Come on, it’s just a thing we do for fun! Or are you already scaaaaared?”

Stepping into the dark foyer behind tattered curtains, the four inkfish were greeted by billowy sheets black as night, drifting and undulating around them in the airless room. The sheet-like arms belonged to a night-veiled phantom jellyfish, who floated down from above with a sinister snicker as the room was faintly illuminated by their companion sea angel.

“guh…” Cass felt an immediate dreadful shiver chill her senses as soon as she let go of her Hydra, not unlike a freshly molted crab. Perhaps the cold air had finally gotten to her.

Inside, the four of them made their way through the halls, navigating past the Spirit Splatoween decorations and jumpscares. The place wasn’t particularly terrifying nor horrifying, but it could have been considered scary in the same way that gluten is found in most bread. *(??)

“Finally...” Cass covertly sighed in relief, ready to leave much, much sooner than later as she quickly reverted to her unapologetic tone. “That’s it, huh - Pff, that was easy! A-“

Tunneling into a blind sprint, Cass launched herself out of the exit, announcing her presence with a dramatic lunge as she joined the rest of them in the safety of outside. She never thought she would miss the surface-dweller’s light, but oh-hoh-ho, she could not have missed it more right now.

*Surume, when she was taking point: It’s too dark. Hold on, let me just…
(Surume lightly taps the top of her head once. Her eyes start to glow and shine like a pair of flashlights.)
Surume: Poggers! Still got it.
Iveri: ‘What the hell…’
Kaori: ‘Could she always do that…?’

**Surume is very likely a midwater squid akaeye-flash squidgiven her characteristics. Huge eyes, luminous ones, too.

***Cass is still fairly literal due to her recent Inklish understanding and her indoctrinated militaristic upbringing. She’s rather naive in terms of recreation in that way. She’s got short sentences, with shortcuts here and there like starting in the middle of a sentence or using one word. She’s a lot more articulate in her mother tongue, and could probably describe her fear of the supernatural much better in that language.

****Twelve-year-old me was a lot more confident about much sh*ttier writing. Oop.

“Iveriii? Can we steer one? Just one? Pleeeease? “Hey Iveri! We’re gonna-” The pink-tentacled Eight sighed at their persistence, knowing full well of their obvious plan by the mischievous glint in their eyes without even having to look. “No. You’ll going to get hurt or hurt someone else,” she bluntly remarked.

Returning with a shopping cart of their own, the peppy inkling and rowdy octoling shot down from the other end of the aisle as a zippy blur, blazing past Kaori and Iveri in their iron vehicle.

“_NyyoOo_om!”
“_OnWAr_d!”

*Surume, Iveri and Kaori used to race in shopping carts. They still do, but with much more concern for safety than before. Cass may be a bit too eager to surf on the thing; driving and then hopping in herself, only to crash and burn shortly after - Surume may have exaggerated a bit in her explanation of these races…

“…What’s happenin’?” Cass squinted, unable to see what he was seeing over the railing as the rest of Voyager sat by just as cluelessly. Not much beyond the common plaza folk, as far as she was concerned.

“I dunno, Nessie. Boss looks like a supervillain, or that one dude from The Great Splatsby.”

*I microdosed on a burger while thinking about this.

Ideas - Intermediate Colour
Sporting cephalings often unavoidably gain other ink colours as highlights, correlating to ingestion or frequent/prolonged contact with another particular ink colour. In the case of salmonid sludge, it is referred to as ‘staining’ among Grizzco workers - a near-permanent mark of experience. Surume is particular about avoiding that and keeping her ends white, even if it is not completely avoidable all the time).
Kaori chuckles at the sight of Surume’s involuntary violet/dark highlights. This immediately causes Surume to flip her off, as is the primary reflex of being Three’s biggest hater.
*(Based on their backgrounds, Inklings probably really like team sports (Turf Wars, Football) and action/flair. Octarians after the Great Turf War probably took on a more individual approach to activities, with an emphasis in uniformity in team activities (Duelling, Bowling, Snooker.) Based on their problem-solving skills, Octolings probably like puzzle foods (clams, crabs, shellfish), and story-based games.

“Owh! Lemme show you something I learned,” the carefree inkling quipped as she looked up from her phone, rolling her head over the couch to look over her shoulder. “Cassie, c’mere.”

“Is… is she even conscious?” Iveri replied with a worried smile, watching the defeated octoling’s thick tentacles spasm as her bug-eyed soul viscously drool out further and further from her mouth. “Owh,” Surume curiously responded, abruptly letting go just to see what would happen.

***Why do kittens always have such pointy tails? Little radio antennas. So cute…

Optional - Splatfest Split
They sometimes still heatedly disagree about things.
Folded arms, tapping fingers, neither backing down
Splatfest: Cat or buttered toast - which lands first?
Dome girl.
Cat hater.
Getting closer, lifting her chin with a finger, teasing and smack talk still continuing
Kaori stares “…”
(Really heated argument for something not that serious…)
*A disconnected 100x was enough to heavily dampen the mood.
*Splatfest Idea: Fresh or Fave? (Basically trend or comfort)

“I-“

*Earlier, before they got to work.
Surume, searching the cabinets: Where do they keep the knives...
Cass, holding a bag of rubber bands: I found these instead.
Surume whips her head towards Cass with a blank stare as a sudden ploy formed in her head.

**Surume, still on the floor: Papaya is the salmon of fruits!
Iveri Eight, exasperated: I need Marie to keep you on a child leash.

***I think it'd be cute if Kaori had a pet giant pillbug (A land-adapted crustacean) named Johnny. It'd be quite stout and heavy, but sleepy and slow from old age.

Redundancy
Why is that building on fire?
That’s where the fire’s stationed.
Isn’t a fire station supposed to-
The fire department fights fires.
They’re both subsidised.
Talk about a way to burn cash…

Optional - Broken Humour
Kiwi (and maybe Eight or Cass) laughing at something (Kaori, probably)
taking the piss,
(Taking turns dropping a E-Liter and laughing at the noise it makes)
Or: playing/winning matches with the Doohickey (Boozler)
Laughing so hard they’re weak at the knees, breathless and crying
Thump-thump-Thump (the sound of a fist banging against a wall.)
*Four is quite cultured in memetic language, or ‘memes’. Eight is still learning things about Surume’s absurd humour, having recently found her phone in the back of her fridge (with Four video calling it. How did she even get it there?)

Optional - Wizardry is serious business
Inkling with a blanket draped over herself
looks like Surume, talks like Surume, but by all means isn’t Surume (Certainly, this is a master of the arts. What arts? No one knows…)
Surume? I don’t know who you’re talking about.
Skill A: Great Force (to the knees, with a metal bat)
Skill B: Inksplosion (Live splat bomb)
Skill C: Fast Inksplosion (Burst Bomb)
Skill D: Big Inksplosion (Inkstrike)
*Surume is banned from a state in Inkadia on tomfoolery charges. (SHE IS LABELLED AS AN INTERNATIONAL THREAT)
Rough recollection of the event:
Surume, STANCED: I cast Missile.
Don’t you mean Magic Missile?
I
CAST
MISSILE
Inkstrikes a distant residential area

*Callie: If Three and Eight are together… Does that make Eight, like, a vice captain or something?
Marie: Maybe she got with the captain just to climb the ladder quicker. Who knows.

Out-Of-Context - Lament
(I miss the old Tetri…
Yeah…
Hey! We’re safe now! We’re all together! What more could you want!?
*sniff* why’d you hav’ta gon’ an’ get all sappy, man…)
*They won’t reunite for quite a while.

A radiant smile.
Will you be ready to let go of it then?

Incomplete - Elegy of the Flashlight Fish
Running her finger over glass shard
Cass is reticent and defeated from Oracle’s loss
Looking towards the stars again.
“I really liked being in the military. I didn’t have to think for myself when there was a common goal.”
“Y’know…” Defeated voice with gravelly listlessness
“Oracle and I didn’t always get along.”
“After some arguments, we’d watch the flashlight fish together.”
“I was just a little girl.”
“I was one of many.”
“We were robbed.”
“I would have been content to burn it all. Eye for bloody eye."
“But now, who do I blame?”
“Who do I blame?”
Story of the flashlight fish - deep-sea fireflies swimming in black waters (Cass wishes she could show it to them somehow)
“She told me how there would be so many.”
Legendary twin cities Octopolis and Octlantis
“Sometimes I wish it was true. Would I have avenged them?” Misty-eyed gloom
“(Now I’m all alone.)”
“…Neither of us are heroes.”
“But we did what we thought was best for our people.”
*Cass is still very proud of her people, nation and culture, even if it is quite fragmented now. (What I hadn’t even thought of is how different the cultures between Dome Octarians and other Octarian communities could be. It would honestly be quite depressing…)

Stepping into the warmly-lit living space, the ever-spontaneous inkling and sawtoothed octoling dropped off their bags with lumbering heft as they made themselves at home. “We’re here for the night, right?” Cass thought aloud in furrowed confusion as she set down her stuff - she didn’t really get what was so special about sleeping in a different place with other people.

“Yep, it’s a sleepover! Or ‘bunking’, like you called it,” Surume reaffirmed in eager confirmation. “It's gonna be hella fun! We’re going to be staying up suuuper late tonight, so we might as well crash here too!”

“Ooh! Here’s an idea: let’s watch this one first!” Surume excitedly pitched near the DVD player, getting slapped in the face with her own dotted tentacles as she whipped around to hear from the rest and show them the rather ominous disk cover. “It’s a deep-sea paranormal psychological horror!” she touted, almost too eager to have put much thought into it.

“That sounds like a terrible idea. Don’t you at least want to sleep tonight?” Iveri pensively swirled the remote in her hand, a little worried of the suggestion. “We could always just watch a classic one like The Fisherman instead.”

As the final movie had come to a close, the television’s screen returned to its usual self at last. “Hah! It ain’t that scary because it ain’t real!” Cass boldly asserted out of the blue, claiming victory over the freaky fiction as soon as the lights went back on.

“…You do know some of them were based on true stories, right?” The gullible octoling’s proud relief faltered a little from Iveri’s reminder. “B-but-“

“Yeah-huh! One of them happened right in Inkopolis Square!” Surume eagerly described to the gullible octoling. “Owh, speaking of which, there’s that folk tale of a fisherman that hooks unsuspecting inkfish! Pfft - scared already?”

Staying beneath the sheets for a little while longer, Cass decided to step out of the bedroom to get a remedial snack. Food always managed to calm her senses, right? But…

Between her and the kitchen was a dark and foreboding hallway, one that separated her from her destination. Anything could be lurking in the darkness.

The stealthy octoling slapped the lightswitch on as she reached the kitchen, now safe from her imaginary fears as she caught her breath. Navigating into the pantry, she proceeded to look around for something to eat - helping herself to a cup of instant noodles she found in a drawer, she tore the lid open and poured some hot water into its container before setting it aside to cook on the counter.

With flushed faces and averted eyes, both of them continued to have their noodles in an increasingly awkward silence, unwilling to acknowledge anything more as they started to wonder about their own partners yet again. (What a bunch of sappy bastards…)

*(“I’m going back to sleep!” Cass quickly finishes her noodles, can’t take the awkwardness anymore - knocks facefirst into lightswitch, turning off the kitchen lights)

*Iveri: It can be really tough to know what Three’s thinking or feeling sometimes. But she almost always could use some love. (She’s cute when she’s being honest.)

**The movies mentioned here: The Fisherman, a gory slasher classic about a serial killer who lures and hooks his victims; THAT, a psychological paranoia horror about a branching, tree-like coral 'thing' that impersonates the victim’s loved ones to feed off their ink and life; and Umibozu; a Moby Dick-esque lovecraftian horror about deep sea legends and one very, very large bobbit worm.

***Kaori is cool and quiet (or acts like it, at least), but that could be because they’re a little reserved by nature and is oftentimes worn out from work. They’re also rather competitive like most Inklings, but in a more quick-witted manner. Before becoming a captain, she was fresh, bright and proudly heroic, if not a little singleminded and stubborn. Nicknamed ‘The Empress’ for their elegance and flexibility when they’re not laying down somewhere. Does one (1) big thing and then passes out.

Iveri is gentle and passionate, with many, many hobbies. Good-natured and appears in-control to many, she hasn’t forgotten her roots despite her memories, and isn’t afraid of using some elbow grease and rocking hip-hop and streetwear styles. Doesn’t smile with her teeth visible (that’s aggression), and covers her mouth slightly when she giggles (out of habit). Rather blunt at times, still stares a lot when not focusing much.

Surume is an outgoing, energetic and trendy inkling as well as a cheeky prankster, but is also highly determined and focused when need be. What she considers important can be a little misplaced, however…

Kaori is quite easy to jumpscare (when they’re not on duty - give ‘em a break); Iveri hates, hates, hates analog horror; Surume particularly likes true-story documentaries and Cass is just plain gullible.

****For Splatoween, Iveri often dresses up as a witch. Kaori is usually much more low-effort in terms of costumes (but has a terrifying mascot costume in the back of her closet), whereas Surume is much more committed to the bit - she went as a mummy this year. Cass got a simple cloak and went as a vampire thanks to her unique beak, though she would probably prefer to play into more freakish styles next time.

*****This was waaaaaaaay overdue for Halloween. I wanted to get it done by October 2023…

Grampa Octavio / Coup
With the NSBS’s expanded activity came a rather unexpected guest - an authoritative figure who now sat idle outside Tentakeel Outpost; resting with his massive scarred arms habitually folded as he was contained entirely within a glass sphere. Er, snow globe.

“That’s DJ Octavio to you, soldier. You fought the same battle as I did. As we all did.”

***Cass has a much more cool and serious attitude when she has her shades on; kind of like a business attitude.

“One thing,” Cass declared with furrowed brows, noticing something was amiss as the others stood well away behind a reinforced double-layered glass screen. “‘Weapon testing’, right? I thought it would be a weapon, not a gigantic suction bomb! Also, where’s my protective gear!?”

The lab-coated Marina looked over at her stout partner, who was irritably tapping their foot at Cass’ mere presence. “Pearlie, please? There’s no need to be so mean. Besides, she already volunteered to help us,” Marina offhandedly stated, while Pearl simply huffed and continued to look ahead with a resentful stare and folded arms on her behalf, a little like a judgemental overseer.

*Marina: Would you still love me if I was a curling bomb?
Pearl: ‘Course I would, ‘Rina! '(That was a new one…)'

**Eight has a welding mask. Surume has a few funny photos of her staring at stalled machinery, with a fisheye lens for added madness.

***The blaster/charger direct-hit sound has got to be one of my favourite noises out there, especially when it’s used elsewhere. Something pops? Blaster DI. Getting decked/counterhit? Blaster DI. Thrown into the ceiling? Blaster DI.

****Pearl is fun, energetic, dramatic and, most importantly, over the top (GET HYPE!). Marina is intelligent, well-adjusted yet highly obsessive and slightly anxious still - need to keep those in mind.

Chapter 40: Chapter 29 - Abduction Welcoming Party

Chapter Text

“Waugh!” In a near instant, the octoling was treated to an upside-down view of her apartment, suspended in a rather uncomfortable position as her sight was filled with a sudden brightness. “Surprise!” several voices exclaimed, popping out of hiding as they went to check on their successful capture dangling in the middle of the room. “It was around winter, right?” Surume excitedly asked the disoriented octoling who sat crumpled up upon her head inside the net. “Then we’ll celebrate you coming up here!”

Helped out of the net, the group sat around the apartment with a little cake party and some drinks to celebrate - one that was rather crammed given the size of their apartment, but still enjoyable nonetheless. “So, how’d y’all figure it out? Did you guys track my schedule again?”

“Four thought of it!” “Who else, honestly?”

Feeling a spark spontaneously reignite within her chest, Cass belligerently slammed her fist down in the mild-mannered air, suddenly filled with fiery blaze and bravado as she stood up with one foot propped on the chair and her drink held high. “A toast?” Marie remarked with a casual smirk.

“Come on, let’s rally! For everything that we’ve been through! Shout because we can! Shout because we now have a reason to!”

“I like the night sky,” Cass remarked, resting near the ledge with her arms on the railing. The city’s bright lights seemed to glow softly from afar in her shaped pupils; an unwavering reminder of the idle comforts she had once sacrificed and forgotten. “It reminds me of the glowworms I would see as I got closer to the surface.” Surume set her eyes towards the sparse and clear sky above the city’s soft lights, feeling the chill yet insulating air rest upon her skin while she quietly listened to Cass speak her mind.

The young kelp-banded soldier stood between cheering crowds in the middle of a raging and roaring army; one amidst many alike put shoulder to shoulder as they watched the concert showdown in the centre from all sides. A decisive battle for Octo Canyon.

“You certainly have a look when you’re determined.” Cassandra sneaked a gentle, affectionate smile at the inkling for a moment, before returning to gazing at the unbound sky. “I didn’t know it then…”

“Yeah. I was a blaster girl.” The lightly freckled octoling’s boisterous chuckle soon faded into the night, replaced by a warm, relaxed expression. “(…For a while now, I’ve been wondering about the true reason of existence. Why we’re all here.)”

“(You’ve done so much for me, and…
So much has changed,)” Cass traced the scars upon the agent’s hand with her fingers, looking into the breathless inkling’s wide citrine eyes as she calmly guided it to her blindsided cheek.

“(Thank you, Surume. For everything.)”

In that moment, the world felt a little quieter too, as their interlinked hearts were kept hidden by the resplendent, unremarkable night. A fleeting moment, eternal.

*Everyone inside was listening in to their heartfelt moment after a while.
Marie, with a small chuckle: It’s time to go home. Come on, Gramps.
Callie, teary-eyed: I-I'm not cryin'... *sniffle*

*Cuttlefish used to brew his own moonshine brine with whatever — coconut, rice, etc. It tastes real sweet and kicks like a boxing jellyfish high on stimulants, but testing and refining the brew definitely took a couple of years out of him early… It’s now a reserve since he can’t really remember things nor brew it himself. The recipe is now lost to time…

Chapter 41: Story Snippets VII - Open-Ended Closure

Chapter Text

Story Snippets VII - Open-Ended Closure

Choppy
“A-a-a-a-a-a-a,” Cass projected her voice, thoroughly amused by the filtered sound as she sat in front of the fan. “A-a-a-a! Gehehe - Kiwi, look!”

“That’s a fan?” Surume glanced up from tidying her wardrobe to look at the wind-swept octoling with slight concern. “You’ve seen one before, right?” she asked for confirmation.

“Come on! Who cares - just try it!” Cass eagerly beckoned, enthused about sharing the small childish discovery regardless of whether Surume knew it already.

*Thematically speaking, Cass could be nicknamed Plum, which is a very cute name…

Unprompted, Surume barged past the door with an impressive shoulder tackle; whipping around to flamboyantly present a metal tray with black rock-like chunk sitting upon it to the rest of the apartment. “Happy Burnt Bread Day!” she exclaimed jollily.

“Kaori and Eight tried making some bread around this time some while ago,” Surume explained, placing the baking tray down and removing her singed oven mitts without missing a beat. “I wanted to make it as faithful as possible, buuut Iv said that eating it while it’s on fire isn’t very practical,” she trivially noted.

*Surume: Iv used to hate baking because she’d try to pull out the trays with her bare hands.

**They went over to the waterfront to feed Squeegee the leftover bread (It didn’t really care about the taste).
Cassandra: How do you think Squeegee even ended up like that?
Surume: Well, I hope he’ll be fine over the winter.

***Surume, with a raised index finger: Hey, Cassie! Did You Know That…
Cass: That?
Surume, forgot: …I also do not know That.

****Kaori can cook, Iveri cannot, Surume can bake. Cass is best left to instant foods, Penguin can(?) cook breakfast, Puffin can cook an egg, Sundew can’t really cook, Wister mostly cooks beans and rice (he’s not picky) but can follow almost any recipe quite well.

*****Placing small cuts/tufts is an easy way to give any cephaling’s tentacuts layers - don’t be afraid to play around with ridges.

Broken Heater/Winter Warmth

// Everyone is progressing // BUT YOU //

“Cassie?”

“Don’t you feel empty at times?” Surume rolled over onto her back with a distant stare, looking up towards the barren ceiling with a certain listlessness in her voice. “Sometimes I still feel so numb. Like I haven’t grown at all.”

“It feels like… everyone gives me so much love, but I just… it spills back out. I’m like a leaky pot just wasting their love,” she sighed in candid woe, dragged down further by a perfect storm of her persistent, fatalistic worries. “I’m not like Eight and Three. So why don’t I feel anything from it still? Shouldn’t I be happy with just getting it already?”

Rudely interrupted in the middle of her languishing, Surume threw off the cover to poke her head out from below. “Wh- Hey! At least let me vent for a little bit!” she exclaimed, to which the cheeky octoling flashed an unapologetic grin and tossed another blanket, and another, then another; burying the inkling beneath a pile of soft, insulating covers before throwing herself on top. "Nope!"

*Surume: Ah yes. Me, my girlfriend, and her 30,000 Geso Great Zapfish Plushie.

**Recently, Surume has gotten into the habit of observing Cass when she sleeps. Cass has woken up to a parliament of Zappie plushies staring at her multiple times now.

***Surume, a little cold and scheming something: Do you mind if I call you by your real name?
Cassandra: Uhh, okay?
Surume, whispering into her ear: (Okay… Tetri.)
Cass receives a critical hit - immediately becomes flushed as steam rises from her head, trying to hide her face behind her tentacles.
Cassandra: Gah! (Why’d you have to say it like that…!)
Surume, with a teasing giggle and hugging her close: ‘Ahh… That’s much warmer.’

****Cass: Why do you keep putting your hands under my shirt in bed?
Surume: My hands get cold.

*****Cass’ tentacles reflect all sorts of strong emotions as well. Embarrassment, fear, anger… It really gives her more expression.

******It goes without reminding, but Surume doesn’t completely stay with Cass in the apartment. She occasionally stays back at home, about an hour’s train ride out from the city.

Snow Day (a little gift from Management)
Across Inkopolis, little white crystals had made their descent, piling high overnight as the city awoke to a morning dusted with a thick blanket of snow. Many had come out to experience the first major snowfall of the season: some to see, others to play.

Cass’ wasabi-green and grey irises looked up in mild awe as the tiny crystal lattices fell and gathered upon her open gloved palm. “It’s pretty…” she mumbled to herself.

“Geh!” ‘Whoever did that…’ she scowled, turning around to see whodunnit - only to find the rest of Team Voyager, all clad in winter gear and armed with snowballs standing not too far behind her.

*After the snowball fight, getting dinner.
Cass: Actually. Who is ‘Management’?
Wister: *sweating*
Cass: …Is this ‘Management’ in the room with us right now?
Wister: *sweats faster*

Ice, Ice, Baby
“Hey Cassie! Let’s go to the department store!”

“Pfft!”

*Cass is quite against showing romantic affection in public. It can be considered a matter of pride.
Cass, already a little embarrassed: We're NOT holding hands together in public!
Surume, smug/teasingly: Aww, why not? It'll be cute, though.

**Further along the trip…
Surume: Are you seriously gonna inchworm on your butt for the rest of the way there?
Cass: Anything for my department store food!

***Cass can be motivated to do many things by offering a department store meal. It’s cheap, tasty and plenty.

****Lick the pole. Do it.
Iveri: …Did you girls seriously get stuck like this?
Surume, tongue stuck: Haaay, i’h wahhuhn -ah faull!
(Heeeey, it wasnt my fault!)
Cass, annoyed (and also stuck right next to her): Youhr t’h’ wonh’ who fuh’hin thold -ee to hoo hiss! oy tunnh hurss…
(You're the one who f*ckin' told me to do this! My tongue hurts...)

Stay Jolly,
Agent 1 and 2 (And the rest of the NSBS!)

There was no response as the faint splashing of the estate’s many water features continued; unresponsive to her presence. Cass proceeded to investigate the many rooms upstairs, placing her ear on the identical doors one by one to listen in — and through one, a disturbing, ominous chanting could be heard.

"----- -----! ----- -----!"

“…!” The octoling reflexively gulped as she pulled away with a clenched jaw.

“(Uh…)” The stunned octoling took a step back like she had just seen a charger on stilts as Kiwi slithered over to bring her in.

*A while later, on the way back after feasting:
Surume, a little green around the gills: Ugh, I don’t feel so good…
Cass: Salmon swimming upstream?
Surume: Dunno… *urp!* maybe…

*This is most definitely based on that one image. Not the girls’ night that Cass remembers…

Chapter 42: Chapter 30 - Squidmas Eve

Chapter Text

Chapter 30 - Squidmas Eve

“WE’RE HERE!”
“Sorry we’re late!”

“How are you guys still going…” Callie gurgled as she felt the room roll, pitch and yaw; to which Marina replied with a small giggle. “We’re feeling a little tipsy, but we’re just getting started!”

“I used to be able to drink like that.”

“…Sure, knock yourself out.”

...

Following the small bout of conversation, the second lump under the blanket shifted. Stirring awake, Cass emerged from under the blanket, if only to briefly place her lips on the inkling’s cheek before slipping back under the covers.

“Hey, Cassie…”

"...?" Tipped off by the various cooing and forceful nudging into her side, the lazy-eyed octoling got up again with a tired grumble, her blind squint met with various knowing expressions and giggles. The rival octoling’s face quickly turned a deep shade of lilac in realisation, sinking back under the covers with steaming, bubbling embarrassment as she refused to respond to the agent’s panicked attempts to shake her back up.

"......//////"

*Surume, still embarrassed: I felt like I was gonna die!!

**Callie’s country accent occasionally leaks out when she’s swinging her roller. Marie is quite prone to spacing out if allowed to idle.

***Surume: It’s Squidmas, and a bunch of kids are getting their first weapons. You know what that means… bring out the Respawn Punisher sweaters!
Marie: Four, no.

****Surume: I’m gonna have to go back home for the rest of the holidays.
Cass: I wanna go with!
Surume: I’m not sure if I’m ready to introduce you to my family yet…
Cass: Whaddya mean!? I’ll fight them for your hand if I have to!
Surume: That’s exactly why I don’t want you to meet them yet!

*****Penguin: Hey, Nessie - who did you spend your Squidmas with? Your siblings?
Cass: The Squid Sisters and Off the Hook.
Wister: Uh-huh.
Sundew: Yeah.
Puffin: Mm-hmm.
Cass: Oh, come on! Why won’t y'all just believe me for once!?
Wister: Just keep yapping. Sigh…

Chapter 43: Chapter 31 - The New Year Cometh, Vows Retold.

Chapter Text

Final Chapter 31 - The New Year Cometh, Vows Retold. / Weight of the Past; Winds of Tomorrow.

“Gahah! As if I’d ever surrender against the likes of you!”

A familiar thought remained.