Splatoon: Colour Coded

I

"You've got to be squidding me!"

The shadowy figure, almost having hyper-realistic goggles swayed to "her" left. The tentacles followed slowly after, blowing in the breeze. It was cold. Her gaze was colder. It struck a sort of feeling inside my stomache. Fear, as I was told previously.

"'Squidding?' You losers make the absolute dumbest puns. Learn from me," she exhaled sharply, clearing her throat. "Because we're gonna have a blast."
From her left arm shone a dark, almost black, Blaster. The brims her highlighted by a contrasting colour of magenta. She aimed straight at the boy next to me, the one who was standing. I, on th other hand, was in a position of fear. A mix between sitting and laying, staring at the figure who is holding a lethal weapon point-blank at a stranger none of us probably know, but would share condolences with.

I could hear myself scream. Suddenly, it was bright. I was in my bed, and it was morning. It was all just a bad dream. I'm fine. The boy isn't real. Neither is the figure, right?

"Jaydean? Are you okay?" Sitting on my chair infront of my desk, my younger sister, Coral, stared at me. Seeing her face woke me up fully. She's never allowed in my room because of my paranoia about her accidentally breaking my weapons. Since she was only ten, her body didn't develop yet, leaving her as a small pink squid with legs. I feared the day she would look at my Heavy Splatlings and accidently 'Squid' and knock them all over.

"I'm fine. Get out of my room." I sat and watched her bored expression turn into a sad one before she got up to go.

But what was that dream? I haven't had one like that before. I tried to recollect my memories on the dream, but everything was a blur. I only remember a humanoid Octarian and two other people. I think the boy was a friend, Rust, but I'm not sure. I could only remember seeing his hair.

Rust was a good friend of mine, basically the brother I never had. I met him in school, in second grade. We had a friend group of three, but our third friend, Lillie. She stopped talking too us three years ago, just a week after our academy ended. Academy was our advanced school, and every kid stopped going to school at 14. You can keep going on though, if you pay the fees. I did, and I took the extra two years of it.

I really wasn't feeling it today for breakfast at home. Something inside me wanted a change in life for me to experience happiness. Currently, I've been living a bland life. Staying at home, or playing Splatoon at Inkopolis Square. Splatoon was a interactive game that's become really popular and it's become a culture of the Inklings for millenials. Nowadays though, it's obviosuly more high-tech. Businesses are centered around Splatoon, Tv shows, worldwide events and tournaments, anything you can think of to boost and maintain our history to be as popular as it was when our ancestors invented it.

There were two modes of Splatoon, Turf War, when you try to have the most ink coverage by the end of two minutes, and Ranked. Ranked has it's own subdivisions called Rainmaker, Tower Control, and Splat Zones.

Rainmaker was based off a special ancient weapon that was our saviour in the Great Turf War. The Rainmaker would be carried into our enemies zone - and in history's case, the Octarians - and they dunked it into a sacred area that sent a schockwave wiping out most of the Octarian's army before they retreated. Dozens of replicas were made to do the same thing but less violent; a podium is used as the 'sacred grounds' and a shockwave is still present, but it's more of a decoration once it is dunked.

Tower Control is based off an old folk song about the Rainmaker, but it's about the Gods riding a heavenly tower, guiding us to our enemie's base. My grandpa used to sing this song because it's family tradition to sing it before celebretory dinners, and all the men in the family have to learn it, but since my parents had no boys, the eldest daughter was taught it. The song plays when you ride the tower during matches, but it's quite hard to hear under the calling and explosions.

Splat Zones was the original Ranked game for many decades before the first Rainmaker replica was perfected. It's similar to Turf War in a way that your objective is to ink an area, but instead of the whole arena, it was one, or two, squares. Once you have captured the square, it's your job to maintain it and keep it in your colour for the longest.

I got up after losing my train of thought to my childhood friends. Something that was... emotional for me, but nothing to ponder on. Laying on my floor was my jacket. A Takaroka Windcrusher. Signed by the one and only DUDE. One of the best players, in my opinon. His girlfriend is also amazing, possibly the best sniper out of them all. A squiggly 'Dude' was written in maker on my back, right under the Takaroka logo. I met DUDE at a tournament hosted here in Inkopolis, of course I wasn't in it, I was a spectator.

The jacket was almost covering my body before I realised I needed to wear a shirt first. Removed it, took off my night shirt, then put on a tank top, then slid both arms through my jacket before moving on to my pants. In the recent years, the Official Splatoon Comittee, or the OSC, and as the 'fresh kids' say it, 'Aw-sk,' have allowed different clothes other than shorts for worldwide play, since only the colder areas had pants, and places like Inkopolis, a sunny heaven, only wore shorts for safety compliances, but now that tounaments are becoming more available for everyone, not all players had the clothes for a respective area's dress codes, and were therefore not allowed to play without heavy paperworks. A strange rule, I know, but I'm glad they've fixed it. I thought the shorts were too uncomfortable for me to wear, and skirts were to girly. I played with leggings that I roll up when I need to. The light brown-grey pants fit snuggly around my legs, and I walked out of my room, but not forgetting my King Flip Mesh hat, an Enperry delight. It went well with my teal coloured tentacles.

"Mom, can I go out to have breakfast with Rust?" Before I heard an answer, something fell in the kitchen. Coral ran out panicked but laughing to the extreme. My mom turned the corner behind her with dirt on her feet. My little sister ran into the bathroom and locked the door, a strategy pulled constantly in this household when I was the young trouble maker. Coral picked it up later. My mom sighed and looked at me with tired, 'done with life' eyes. "Yes, dear. Have fun. Say hi to him for me, it's been a while." She turned around again, bending in the process. I'm guessing Coral knocked over one of her plant pots.
"Will do, see ya." I slid on my ususal Black Norimaki 750s. I don't like some of the shoes the stores are selling these days. Not enough ankle support. The Norimakis are capable of being strong enough to support ankles and be thin and lightweight. Easy for agile use.

Something about the plain white door in the front of our house ticked me off a little. It didn't fit into our little cozy home theme. No big deal, not a subject to lose my mind about. I pulled out my phone and rang up Rust.

Buzz buzz, buzz buzz, buzz bu-

"What's up Jeans?" Rust always had the strangest nicknames for me. I loved talking to him every day of the week and hear his clever names he put soo many hours thinking about. Once he gave me the nickname Dj Jd, and it was during a trip we took to New Jersea for a Splatoon convention and everyone we hung out with for the rest of our stay there knew me as 'Dj Jd.'
"Heya, Rusty, care for some brekky at IHOP?" The Intertidal House of Pancakes was the best in making delicious breakfast for all sea creatures, excluding our mortal enemies. There was one near Inkopolis Square, the newer version of Inkopolis Plaza, but that's another story.

We continued chatting and I planned to meet up with him at his place. He lived a few blocks down, so I decided to just take a walk down the road.