Chapter Text
Her opponents can hear the old Inkantation blasting in her headphones as she approaches, but by then, it's too late to retaliate. She pulls the trigger and after a sharp *ping* her two targets are felled in one purple blast. She doesn't smile or celebrate or frown, she simply continues pushing forward. This is turf war, the objective is to claim the most territory, and she will complete that objective. Of course, this isn't a serious war, she's not fighting in the Great Turf War. This is a harmless replica of that war made for fun and a source of income for hopeful squid kids and octolings. She was having fun, but she takes her fun a bit too seriously. She's trying her best not to.
That's why the octoshot that ended TarTar and Order stays locked in a closet in her apartment. That's why she wears a colorful sweater, bright pink shoes, and bright red headphones to every match as opposed to the armor, combat boots, and goggles that would suit her better. That's why she only listens to The Squidsisters or Off the Hook as she fights the turf war: one reminds her of her freedom, the other reminds her of her friends. That's why former Agent 8 of the New Squidbeak Splatoon has retired, content to live casually, play casual matches, and surround herself with casual things. However, despite the conscious effort she makes to be casual, she's dedicated to completing the tasks assigned to her, and that determination makes her a frightening foe on the battlefield. No matter how friendly she tries to look, she can't shake the training she's had, nor the skills she's learned.
Time flies as she gets closer and closer to the enemy's spawn, taking splat after splat, gaining more and more ground. She can taste victory, she grins at the thought of it. Once she's completed this station, she can move on to the next.
...
.......
"......Station?"
...
She freezes for a moment. She knows this isn't a station. She knows she already made it to the promised land, she knows that she's no longer deep underground, but she feels that teal bomb strapped to her back. She has to check, she has to know. Where's the cucumber? What actually happens when the timer runs out? Is it beeping? She hears it beeping. It's going to-
*SPLAT*
"Carp", she thinks as she respawns, "I lost focus. That guy with the carbon roller is such a coward. At least they can't win now, there's only 10 seconds left."
But, as she looks out from her spawn, she realizes how wrong she is. An octoling with an aerospray slipped past her front running rampage, and, aparrently, the rest of her team couldn't handle it. The only purple ink among the sea of green is the space she'd inked before she was splatted.
"Sorry Fizz!" A rather expressive inkling mumbles and pouts, looking down at her splattershot, "I tried to hold them off as best as I could, but they were super fast! Their running speed was off the charts!"
"It's alright, Coral. Stuff like that happens. We get paid either way!" Fissure replies.
"Albeit WAY less," she adds in her head. "I still don't have enough for new dulies.
"Yeah!" Coral's mood changed instantly, "And you were MVP again!" Coral's eyes sparkled with admiration.
"Yeah, with a blaster, in turf war, not a good thing." Fissure points out
Fissure's friend and lobby buddy Coral was new to Splatsville, and had to compete in matches to get the new gear she wanted. Fissure was in a similar situation, having only recently moved to the area. The difference was that Fissure had previous experience in turf war, while Coral...
"Wait, really? But aren't all weapons meant for turf war?" Coral asks, tilting her head with confusion.
Fissure smiles slightly, happy to explain, "Every weapon has a role that suits it in matches. Blasters, Chargers, and Splatanas are better suited for quick, devastating blows on opponents that immediately splat them. They pressure the enemy into focusing on them while a Splattershot, roller, slosher or specific stringer inks turf. Ideally, a blaster or charger would have tons of splats, but not as much turf inked as a splattershot or roller and thus never be MVP in a turf war. Other types of matches is a diffrent story."
"What about the dulies I want? What are they supposed to do?"
"For dulies, it depends on the user. A lot of people only front run with them, trying to quickly overwhelm their opponent with fire power and speed, but they also ink turf pretty well, not as well as a splattershot or roller but better than some sloshers and way better than Chargers or blasters. There are other weapons like that, so I recommend figuring out what you prefer to do during turf war and then go about acquiring weapons accordingly."
Coral listens intently, nodding her head as she takes note of what to look for. "Thanks Fizz! This is SO helpful."
"It's no problem at all," Fizz asserts, then stands up to leave. "I need to get going. Same time tomorrow?"
"Bet! I'll see you tomorrow!" Coral nearly yells as Fissure walks away.
Fissure smiles to herself, "I never thought I'd be teaching someone the way they taught me. Oh! I should call when I get back home. Hopefully they can answer this time."
Fissure walks into her apartment, tired, but satisfied with her day. The place is very nice. Fissure thinks its too big for her, but Pearl wouldn't let her have anything smaller than this. To her right is a short hallway to her half bathroom for guests. To her immediate left on the same wall as the door is her little kitchen, a small electric stove splitting the counter in half and an oven beneath it. Two cabinets with snacks, seasonings, and ingredients sit above the counter, a microwave separating them. Across from the kitchen in the middle of the apartment is a little living area with one small sofa facing the TV on the wall across from the entry door. To the right of the living area is the door to her bedroom, her bathroom with a shower and bathtub inside the same area. Some cereal was left out from this morning, the box still sitting on her round, wooden table surrounded by 4 wooden chairs that sits next to the window on the left most wall. She never has guests over to sit around it.
Well, she did once, when her friends bought the place for her.
"C'mon 'Rina! Eig- I mean Fizz deserves a penthouse! Talk some sense into her!"
"Pearl, she said she wanted something small and close to the train station so she can visit us when we're not busy! You don't want to go against her wishes do you?
"Well- I-I'm sure there's a small penthouse nearby we can look at!"
"Pearl, no. She said this was perfect!"
"At least let her LOOK for a penthouse? Please??"
*sigh* "What do you want to do Fissure?"
Fissure, formerly Agent Eight of the New Squidbeak Splatoon told them she wanted to live here. She'd spent almost a year recovering from the Deep Sea Metro with Pearl and Marina by her side. Going on Tour with them and surrounding herself with music helped her find some peace and choose her new name. It was hard, she'd only ever been an agent, and before that, in the realm of things she couldn't fully remember, she was a soldier in DJ Octavio's army. Violence seemed more natural to her than smiling, but, luckily, she had Marina there who'd gone through the same thing and Pearl who's care for her friends was unconditional and fierce. It was Marina that suggested her choosing a new name, a new identity for herself, and Pearl that enforced it everytime Cap'n Cuttlefish forgot when he called to make sure she hadn't "relasped" and returned to Octavio. She's called them a few times. Originally, they'd set up a day to call each week, but life wouldn't allow any of them the time, so Fissure calls when she's free at once a week. Even if they don't pick up, she leaves a message and even if she doesn't pick up, they do the same.
She sits down on at the table they got for her on the chair furthest from the kitchen counter; It's the same spot she always sits.
"The next time we visit, we'll sit in these exact same spots, that way it'll feel like we never left!" Marina had said.
She sat there when she wanted to call them, to feel like they were really sitting there with her. She understood that they have their own lives, and she definitely wanted to live on her own, but sometimes, she missed them. That's when she'd call.
*ring*
*ring*
*ring*
.....
"You've reached Marina of Off The Hook. I can't answer the phone right now, as I'm likely out DJ-ing. Leave a message and I'll return your call at my earliest convenience. Sorry I missed you!"
*beep*
"Hi Marina! It's Fissure! I know you're busy, I just wanted to update you with how I'm doing."
And she did just that. She told her about Coral, her qualms with certain matches, her excitement with others. She smiled as she explained how she taught Coral about weapons in matches the same way Marina had and how it reminded her to call today. She said she missed them, wished them well on their work, and hung up.
She then called Pearl, and did the same thing.
After she was done, she stayed there for a moment. She hoped that maybe, just maybe, they were on their way to visit, that they didn't have a concert, or event to host in Inkopolis Square, and that they were finally able to see her. She hadn't told them about her panic during her last match today over the phone, nor the last few freezes she had, or the nightmares she had about a place she couldn't recognize, but she knew she needed to.
"When they visit, I'll tell them everything. There's too much to dump over the phone now."
And for a moment, she thinks her prayers have been answered because seconds after that thought, there's a knock on the door.