Splatoon: Unnamed [AU]

Chapter Fourteen

They were swiftly coming up on the battlefield, Urchin Underpass. It looked much different at night as they approached from the side, through a grassy area beside the busy highway. The underpass was lit by purple lighting, giving the currently calm battlefield a spooky glow. It took him only a moment to realize that the purple lighting was a blacklight, illuminating the twists and turns of the underpass with neon graffiti and decorations. It felt very festive and reminded him of the square during splatfests. The dark surroundings made him long for the feeling of a splatfest again. The nighttime battles, the air buzzing with music from all around, inklings coming together from all over to unite and support their chosen teams. It was a nostalgic feeling, and he especially remembered the chaos vs order splatfest and how hard he'd fought. He'd become vampiric, or, what was the term, nocturnal? So that he could fight all night and sleep all day. It did take him a while to get back to his normal sleep schedule, though. The journey to Rain's apartment to retrieve some stuff for the battle was brief, and they had a good 10 minutes to kill before the battle. Rain glanced over at Riot, who was still wearing his huge raincoat with the hood up to hide her fins and tail. She was carrying the heavy splatling like it was a bag of rocks, straining to keep the weapon off the ground as she walked. The weapon was almost the same size as her, and he wouldn't be surprised if the weapon weighed just as much as she did. It was impressive that she could even lift it off the ground, let alone carry it.

He gave her a sympathetic look, "You sure you wanna use that weapon? I could run back and get you a smaller splatling." He offered.

Riot narrowed her eyes at him, "I'll be fine, Rain, it's not that heavy." She grumbled, seeming offended he even implied she wasn't strong enough to carry it. Rain wished she wasn't so hard headed. It would be nice if Riot listened to him for once instead of being a stubborn blowfish.

Rain put one hand up, as he was holding his heavy dynamo roller over his shoulder with his other arm, "Okay, okay, cod." He said, "Don't get your tail in a knot." He told her. Rain felt a buzz in his pants pocket as they continued approaching the battlefield. He took out his phone from his pocket and checked his notifications, seeing that he got a text from Eight. Rain read it over quickly, as they didn't have a lot of time until the turf war began. The text read:

"Hey, I talked to Izzy and she doesn't want you to know what happened on that one mission we haven't told you about, but I think you deserve to know because we might have a new problem because of it and you deserve to know."

Rain wished Eight had texted earlier, though he guessed they were going through some late night depression and had to get it off their chest. He texted back quickly:

"K, go on and explain, I'm doing a thing, so I'll read when I can."

He typed, feeling antsy now. Cod, he wished Eight had texted sooner. Now he had to wait until the end of the turf war to finally get some answers to some questions he'd been dying to know about. What had happened on that mission? How did Eight get recruited to the splatoon? How did Captain Three get her scars? He let out a small sigh, he'd just have to be patient. He put his phone in his pocket and tried to get his mind off of it, after all, he needed to really focus for this turf war match. He needed to make sure Riot would be okay, and that everything stayed safe and fair. There were less rules and regulations at night, when there wasn't an official judge to oversee the match. He looked up at the empty highway above the underpass. It was after the rush hour, so no cars were rumbling overhead. He saw somebody balancing on top of the guardrails with two flags, one bright purple and the other a neon orange. He looked pale in the city light, and his tentacles were long and thin. He assumed that was the judge, though he was concerned he was going to fall off the guardrails and splat in a different, non-turf war way on the ground when he did; He was afraid a car might rush past and cause him to fall to his demise, overall, this didn't seem very safe, though what was he to expect when he was coming to an "after hours" turf war?