Colour Theory: A Splatoon Fanfic Ch 4

Instructions

Me and Marie are sitting outside Tentakeel Outpost, eating something from the CrustBucket. Well, I'm eating it. Marie hasn't touched hers. Instead, she's staring out into the deep depths of wherever we are, probably pondering the mysteries of the universe. Such as… What is in these Seanwiches??? I mean, sure, they're tasty, but have you ever stopped to think about what's actually in them? Is it Salmonoid? Is it squid? Why do we eat squid? Didn't we evolve from them? Are we cannibals??? A deep sigh from Marie interrupts my questioning of the morals of our food and society. She still hasn't eaten her (dubious) snack, but she has moved on to scrunching and unscrunching the wrapper. So far she has avoided all 4 of my attempts at conversation, so this time I'll try something else. Maybe I'll ask how she's feeling, maybe I'll ask what she's thinking about. Maybe I'll ask… "Are you gonna eat that?" Marie turns towards me like she forgot I was still here. But I'm used to that look, so I just stare awkwardly back at her until she registers my question, says; "No." And chucks the Seanwich towards me, thus ending our conversation. Honestly, I wish she was this quiet when I was in the kettles, smashing Octarians, instead of constantly spouting facts I did not need or want to know. I probably should be greatful for the silence, but there's only so long I can occupy myself before I start doing and/or saying things that cause injury to either my pride or to me, so I try one last attempt to talk to her before I'm leaving. Something's been on my mind all day. "What did they do?' Marie looks at me, confused. Full sentences are probably good, so I try again. "The Octarians. Why are we so intent on their downfall and destruction?" Marie takes a moment to process this. Then, she walks into the shack. I kinda take that as a answer, one of the "this-topic-is-sensitive-and-if-you-ask-again-I-will-fling-paint-at-you" variety, and am about to get up and leave when she comes out with a bulletin board with so much red string connecting pictures and newspaper articles to notes and timelines that I can't actually see the board. She grabs an old black-and-white photo, and hands it to me. "We weren't always enemies." She stares at the board for a minute or two before continuing. "About 100 years ago, Inklings and Octarians lived in relative peace together. But when the sea levels rose, there wasn't enough space for us both. So we went to war. "At first, it looked like the Octarians would win, mostly due to the Inklings inability to wake early enough to fend them off. However, just when victory seemed inevitable, as the Octarian Army stormed the Inkling's main stronghold, one of the powercords that, well, powered the Great Octoweapons was unplugged, leaving the Octarians vulnerable. So, after a long and desperate battle, the Inklings managed to defeat and drive out the Octarians, and Judd confirmed their victory." "Wait wait wait" I hold up my hands, trying to stem her rapid flow of words. "Judd? As in, Judd the cat who judges our Turf Wars? Marie looks bored. "Yes." "That-that would mean that Judd is like-" "About 1900 years old, yeah. He's good at his job. The Great Turf War was fought 4 v 4, Inklings v Octolings. After the Inklings won, regular Turf Wars became quite a popular event in our society, but that's a different thing." She points at the piece of paper in my hands. "My point is, and not many people know this, but there was a secret organization that was critical to the defeat of the Octarians. Captained by my grandfather, Craig Cuttlefish, and including Sheldon's grandfather Ammoses Shellendorf and two other Inklings, this group was vital to the victory of the Inklings. "They were the original Squidbeak Splatoon."