#splatoon oc lore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lilaqpetal · 2 years ago

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splatoon oc lore (inkie + blinkie, a.k.a 2TPOP)

warning: graphic imagery, description of vomit/heaving at the start, use of syringes/needles, violence in inkie flashback

the story of how one lost inkling met a runaway octoling, and their journey to escape the sewers they find themselves trapped in.. but it’s not as easy as they think it is.

this fic is entirely oc related! i am proud to have the blanket octoling inkie as my oc, whilst the firefly inkling blinkie belongs to @sadratatouille ! we created this entire lore story together in tiny chunks and i took it upon myself to finally write a full fledged story about it🫶 thank you for creating these ocs with me and indulging into splatoon brainrot with me <3

a rotten smell intoxicated the air, blinkie didn’t recognise this smell in splatsville, but the moment it hit his nose, his reflexes kicked in and his eyes immediately opened. followed by this was his body reacting by itself, his airway closed and his diaphragm contracted, causing him to dry heave multiple times, retching whatever he could onto the ground. blinkie’s hands were planted on the ground, filthy discoloured water running over his fingers as he spat out foul-tasting bile, wiping his mouth with his sleeve after.

of course, this left a disgusting taste in his mouth, causing him to grimace. once he had finished retching, he struggled to stand up, but managed to finally rise to his feet, staring at what seemed to be sewage run past him.

“great! sewers, just great— and no way out..” blinkie groaned, grabbing his now ruined and creased notebook by his foot, soaked and covered in grime. the inkling sighed at the thought of his precious notes being ruined by such an accident. how did he even get down here? his memory was foggy and the only thing he could remember was walking near the overrun sewer drain, water divided from the rusted metal bars on the grate, before something had grabbed his leg, slipping him over the rails, pulling him down into the water— and now here he was.

blinkie wrung the water out of his sleeves and shorts, not so comfortable with the idea of trailing the mazes of the sewers in soggy clothes. the fact that he had managed to even get lost down here alone was enough to roll the cold sensation of shivers down his spine, the echoes of sewage and waste splashing against the walls becoming louder due to the isolation and deafening silence where blinkie stood— emphasising and almost mocking the fact he was alone and nobody was out to help him.

did anybody realise he had gone missing? did anybody even see him being taken away? somebody surely must have saw him being dragged away— yet, he wouldn’t be here if they had.

the only viable option he had was to walk through the desolate and dim tunnel he landed himself in.

blinkie wasn’t sure how far he had walked, but he knew he had walked long enough for his legs to ache and his feet were now numb— too cold from the bitter chill the sewage water brought. so far through his travels, he had not found a way out— but what he found particularly odd was the scrap metal and broken mechanisms plus weaponry tossed carelessly near the walls of the sewers, almost as if some sort of life form lived here before his appearance. maybe they still remained, but blinkie didn’t like that lingering thought.

instead, as he wandered the tunnels, he noted down his discoveries with small key sketches beside them, the idea behind it being if he weren’t to make it out alive— somebody or something could find his notebook and discover what was hiding deep in the sewers. maybe then he’d get his justice.

blinkie didn’t like that thought either.

a subtle echo of a splash caught his attention, his eyes darting around the tunnel, searching for the source of the noise, before spotting a splotch of green ink beside his feet.. yet, it didn’t look like ink. this substance was much thicker than normal ink, and blinkie didn’t want to find out what it was, only where had come from. based on where the substance had stuck itself, the only way it could have gotten there was from above him, to which blinkie immediately lifted his head— and met eyes with a being he hadn’t thought existed, yet staring right at him was this very thing.

he couldn’t utter a word, only stare in fear and tighten his grip on his notebook a little more. piercing red orbs bore into his own, mouth secreting the very same green liquid beside his foot, as if it were drooling and ready to pounce. crooked teeth were visible, yet blinkie could recognise the iconic three fangs inklings would possess, but apart from those, the rest were square, jagged— almost like a salmonid’s. it’s hair was spiked too, yet possessed normal tentacles like an inkling did. another drop of saliva splattered onto blinkie’s cheek— yet, there was a stinging sensation where it lay, suggesting that this “ink” wasn’t safe— and neither was this salmonid-inkling hybrid.

it growled deeply, which caused blinkie to immediately scramble, the tainted sewage water splashing beneath his feet. he knew if he slowed down anytime soon, the hybrid chasing after him would catch him, and he would be as good as gone. the feeling of fear and dread settled into blinkie’s stomach, overwhelming his thoughts and tears began to brim at his eyes. please don’t kill me, i don’t wanna die! i’ve only just enrolled into turf war battles, please— whatever god is up there, hear me now and save me from this!

blinkie sharply turned a corner, arm colliding with the rotting concrete and the familiar feeling of pain shot through his arm, causing him to let out a harsh gasp, stumbling and dropping to the floor. with now a weak and throbbing arm, he couldn’t bring himself to lift up and off the ground, and the true feeling of fear began to engulf him— small cries and yells of agony and pleads of mercy coming from the inkling as he crawled, teeth gritted as his arm ached.

the salmonid-inkling crouched behind him, sharp nails pressing into both arms, drawing blood as it seeped through his jumper, causing blinkie to yell— this is where i die. i never even got to play r—

the familiar sound of an octoshot rang through the tunnel and the back of blinkie’s jumper became wet, and he realised something had splatted the hybrid behind him. someone had came to save him, he thought, yet when he looked up he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. a small, presumably, octoling girl, held her gun aimed, before gently resting it by her side, yet blinkie was confused how she even saw past the long tentacles covering her face.

it was as if she had heard his thoughts, and she quickly brushed a tentacle out of her face, revealing a singular left eye to blink at him. the octoling crept closer, but blinkie was still filled with fear, causing him to edge backwards away from her. she noted this, cautiously kneeling, before bringing a hand out.

“…..safe.” she mumbled through broken inklish, and blinkie noted she had the uniform of an octarian, yet it was dishevelled and dirty. he hadn’t noticed how heavy he was breathing until he had finally calmed down from the sudden attack, now slowing his breathing as the throb of pain in his arm dulled. he pulled himself towards her, shakily taking her hand.

“..thank you— y-you saved my life! i thought i was a goner—“ she placed a hand on his mouth, glancing at him through the slit between her tentacles.

“too much. talk less.” despite the language barrier, she had managed to communicate through basic words, yet such words were so harsh for a basic greeting.

“sorry… but— do you, uh.. have a name?” blinkie managed to stand up with the help of her hand, and she wiped the dust and water droplets off her knees. the octoling shook her head, arms wrapped around herself due to the biting cold air surrounding them.

“no name, only number.”

blinkie thought for a moment, before placing a hand on her shoulder.

“well, let’s call you inkie. i’m blinkie, it’s nice to meet you after you saved me from certain death.”

inkie peered at him, before breaking into a wide, toothy grin.

“inkie. nice meet you.”

a growl emitted from blinkie’s stomach, making the inkling remember that he hadn’t brought any snacks along with him like usual, causing him to grumble. he turned his head to inkie, who was walking beside him, octoshot in hand.

“hey.. inkie?” he gave a nervous laugh, to which the octoling turned her head to face him as he walked, lifting a tentacle from her face. “do you perhaps.. have anything to eat on you?”

she furrowed her eyebrows and blinkie could see the cog wheels turning in her head, translating what he had said in her head to octolish, before bringing out crinkled pieces of tinfoil from her pocket. blinkie peered at the contents in her hand.

“gum. mango.” she ushered the foil towards him. “not much. will provide.” he took a singular strip, unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth, letting the heavenly flavour of mango sweetener kick his tastebuds into action. blinkie thanked the octoling, and she hummed in response whilst chewing on her own.

after a while, the two stopped to take a necessary break after walking for an unknown period of time. inkie sat on a dry spot of concrete, resting her octoshot by her and bringing her knees up to hug them. blinkie leaned against the wall, arms folded as he took notice of the girl beside him. he hadn’t had a chance to look at her properly, but now he did— and he began to notice little details. the way her tentacles reflected whatever light illuminated the tunnel they were in, how her front tentacles were pink, whilst the back were green— the same colour as what the salmonid-inkling hybrid drooled. blinkie began to reach a hand out to touch them, but inkie instinctively flinched, arms protecting her head.

“…how’d you get different coloured tentacles?.. did you dye them?” he knew it seemed to be a touchy subject, but blinkie couldn’t help but ask. curiosity killed the cat, of course. inkie’s eye softened and she lowered her arms, head resting on her knees.

“testing. octarians want power. use sanitised ink on us. i failed. i ran.” even despite the language barrier, blinkie pieced together what information she had given him, before it finally clicked his head.

“test subject 304, are you ready for the experiment?”

the octoling gave a simple nod, sitting up from the lone bed that lay in her cell. her wrists were cuffed, red lines where they had dug into her skin remained. she gave a final glance back at her cell. perhaps she wouldn’t miss this cell as much as she thought she would, considering how bland it looked from the outside.

“alright, follow me.” her superior sighed, tapping the clipboard she held with her pen, fixing the seaweed in her hair before beginning to walk away with the girl behind. 304 looked at the posters and stickers plastered on the wall, noting how dirty they had become from being uncared for. “serve for octavio!” “become sanitised today, make an effort for the octarians!” “fight on! we shall get back what’s rightfully ours!” what a laugh.

304 didn’t believe a singular word behind these propaganda posters. she knew the true horrors from being front line fighting against inklings. serving for octavio didn’t mean anything. you were giving your life for nothing, what difference did it make for you to be sanitised?

yet 304 still applied.

“alright, 304. we’ll take off your cuffs and if you just sit right here, we’ll get your injection of sanitised ink soon.” her superior entered a pin into the cuffs and soon they clicked, dropping off her wrists and 304 was relieved with the freedom she had. she did as she was instructed, sitting down upon the white leather chair— which upon resting, wasn’t as comfortable as it looked.

the room was filled with silence for a while, the buzz of the overhead air conditioning whizzing through the vents, which surprisingly made 304 feel at peace— going as far as to yawn. she felt too comfortable here.

“okay, 304– was it?” a different superior came in, this time it was a male superior. he grinned at 304. in his hand was a syringe of a pale green liquid. “are you ready to be sanitised?“

the subject nodded, smiling in return. “oh, octolings need to be more like you. so willing and co-operative. we’d have that damn zapfish if we just had multiple octolings like you. you ever thought of becoming a superior yourself when you’re older?” he laughed almost, taking the safety cap off of the needle and flicking it slightly, the ink juicing from the tip. she wouldn’t dare become a superior. she’s seen the hardships they’ve had to suffer through and she’d be more likely to be struck by lightning than become a superior.

“maybe. i don’t think i’m suitable for the role of a superior.”

“oh, 304, you do make me laugh,” he pat her shoulder, shaking his head. 304 carefully rolled his hand off, laughing nervously in return. “now, enough chit chat, this’ll only pinch a little.”

the superior carefully inserted the syringe into her shoulder, injecting the ink into her bloodstream. at first, 304 didn’t feel anything, but then a sharp pain struck through her head— more painful than any headache or migraine she felt, causing her to let out a blood-curdling scream. the octoling clutched her tentacles, breathing heavily and gritting her teeth.

“now now 304, the pain will subside soon. it should fade just now,” he spoke gently, but in fact— the pain didn’t leave at all. it resided in her head, and 304 lurched off of the leather seat, back arching before she collapsed back onto the chair, wreathing. her superior panicked, restraining her down with his hands. “304, i need you to stop moving! i need to give you another dose—“

but 304 did not stop struggling. 304 kicked her new superior, causing him to knock back, holding his side in which she kicked. 304 grabbed a nearby syringe with the same liquid, letting out one final cry before stabbing it straight into his jugular, the octoling gargling whilst 304 injected the ink into his blood stream, before removing the syringe. the superior clawed at his throat, choking and spluttering from the unrecognised substance now in his bloodstream, and now it was 304’s turn to panic. dropping the syringe, 304 quickly limped past, stumbling as she ran towards the door, shakily entering the password as fast as she could— before escaping the experiment room.

an alarm sounded through the laboratory, almost deafening 304- meaning the liquid must have heightened her hearing range, causing her to cover her ears as she raced past monotone white rooms. “warning, failed sanitised octoling has escaped. warning. 304 has escaped her experiment, warning—“

304 whipped her head around, before quickly turning a corner, sliding across the tiles before scrambling to get back up and she could already hear echoing footsteps nearing from each end of the hallway— so, in the heat of the moment, she crashed through the nearby window, folding her arms around herself and bracing for the impact of the concrete ground..

a high-pitched ringing blared through her ears, before her surroundings faded from white, to gray, to black.

“and then.. you found the sewers?” inkie nodded. “oh.. i’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“ ‘m okay… we will live.” her sudden hope warmed blinkie’s heart, causing the inkling to grin in return.

“yeah. yeah we will,” blinkie stood up, wiping the dust off of his knees, turning to look at inkie. “hey, i’m gonna go look around and see if there’s any sign of an escape, okay? you just stay here.”

inkie grabbed blinkie’s arm swiftly, picking up her octoshot and handing it to him. “safety.”

the inkling chuckled, examining the gun in hand. the pink ink inside the translucent container swirled as he held it. inkie attached her ink bag to his back, tightening it to fit his shoulders before she pat his back.

“well then, i’ll be off. keep yourself safe, okay inks?” blinkie’s eyes softened, smiling softly at the octoling. the girl grinned back, beaming at the nickname, before pulling the inkling into a gentle embrace.

“kind. i like you, bli.”

the two giggled, before blinkie took his leave, walking a short distance before turning right.

inkie hadn’t met an inkling so nice to her. every inkling she had met, or well, fought, hated her. they looked at her as if she was scum of the earth, as if she was inferior. truly, she didn’t mean any harm— she wanted to live life beside them if anything, yet, with the octolings and inklings being so opposed to each other, some people hated the idea of both species living in harmony..

and now, she met someone that viewed her as if she were one of theirs.

inkie had fallen asleep, and she had only woken up by a piercing, echoey scream coming from a short distance away from her, which was a warning sign that something wasn’t right. once she had come to her senses, she lifted herself off of her feet, tiredly but steadily racing towards the source of the noise, fearing what sight she might have to behold. was inkie injured? had inkie died? no. no, that couldn’t have been possible, she had given him her gun, he can’t have—

inkie stopped in her tracks, water rippling around her boots as through the small slit of the parting of her tentacles, she spotted blinkie: wreathing and shaking on the floor, hands pressed into his eyes as he shrieked loudly. through the tight spaces of his palms, inkie noticed small tears streaming down his cheek, signifying something was definitely not right.

“b—bli?” she barely managed to whisper his nickname. her octoshot and ink bag were scattered on the floor beside him, another salmonid-inkling hybrid crouched by his side— barely a drop of ink covering its skin. it took notice of the octoling in front, baring its teeth before it sprung into action, dashing towards her but with her delayed reaction, she just barely spun to the side, letting the hybrid scuttle past her before it used it’s nails to drift and turn. inkie sprinted to her gun as blinkie continued to screech beside her, to which she quickly grabbed the octoshot and turned around, shooting the hybrid directly to the face. it let out an ear-splitting cry, before it exploded into the same green substance inkie recognised from the day she met blinkie.

the octoling took a few seconds to regain her breath, before quickly kneeling beside blinkie, shaking his shoulders. “bli! bli—“

“inks— inkie, my eyes—“ inkie removed his hands off of his eyes, to which her own widened, tears brimming at the edges of her lashes. “i can’t see, inks— is that you?”

what once was the gorgeous blue inkie had never seen before was now a dull fading white, green ink splotching over the edges of his eyeballs. inkie concluded that the hybrid had managed to land a blow of ink to his eyes and this had caused damage to them, ultimately blinding him. inkie’s hands shook as she held his, droplets of tears splattering onto his cheeks as she sobbed, before holding his face in one of her hands, thumb rubbing his cheek.

“i’m here. i’m here, bli! we leave.. we leave now,”she choked on her own sobs, lifting blinkie up and wrapping an arm around him, resting his own on her back so she could support him after slipping her ink bag on one shoulder, holding her octoshot in her right hand. “it’s okay, i got you…”

inkie managed to walk whilst supporting an injured blinkie, every step she took felt heavy and every second felt an eternity. she prayed, wished and hoped an exit would be nearby, and fortunately, whatever god was up there heard her prayers during this desperate time, because after several minutes of walking with the fear of being attacked, light shone on the water below them— causing inkie to look up.

a sewer gate.

“bli! you sit, i go!” she leant the inkling against the wall, who whimpered from his lack of vision, hands grasping at inkie’s arm.

“don’t go, inks. i can’t see you.”

“i will be here. always.” she pressed her forehead against his, before brushing her tentacles back and looking up at the gate, gathering nearby scraps and metals to stack before climbing them, bumping her head on the gate before (with much effort) lifting the gate and pushing it to the side, peeking her head up and looking around.

“safe! come on!” she descended the small tower, taking off her ink bag and dropping her octoshot, picking blinkie up on her back. “hold me. i carry you.”

blinkie did as he was told, holding tightly onto inkie as she climbed the tower once more, before lifting the two of them out of the manhole and onto the concrete ground. the sound of trains overhead slid by, shop doors jingling as people entered and left and gentle music playing through the street. blinkie hiccuped, and inkie turned to look behind her, seeing the boy crying, pressing his face into her shirt.

“we’re in splatsville. it’s over.”

fin.

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