So the Grand Festival came to a close - and with the pleasant surprise of the team I voted for coming first!
I won't be going anywhere, but without many people left in this corner of the Splatoon RPbase, there won't be much blog content from here on out. I plan to get around to finishing the last part of the humans plot, but otherwise this blog will be waiting around until the potential Splatoon 4. Sure, I'll try to answer asks if you send them in, but I'm not exactly expecting a sudden surge of engagement, haha.
With that said - I do want to thank every person that's ever interacted with this blog. I couldn't possibly list you all with fear of missing some out, but please know I appreciate each and every like, reblog and interaction sent my way over the years. I've made some of my best friends by being a part of this fanbase. Despite some of the hiccups the series had along the way, I hope everyone looks back at this little community and the fun we had fondly.
((Not sure how many of you are following the Queenie/Eelrune fluff since it's kinda side-story, but as a diehard fan I wrote a little fic a few months back and I want to share it here. Got the go-ahead from @grandpa-cephalopods - since I was experimenting with perspectives too. ))
((It's set before the human rocketship stuff happens, but apart from that it's pretty self-explanatory mushy stuff lol. Under the cut.))
Coughs and Sneezes
It was Eelrune’s day off. Her plans for a family visit had been cancelled due to transport issues, leaving her without much to do. She’d had a shower and watered her garden but was now struggling to find another means of occupying herself. She could read, or watch TV, or even try to study—but none of it felt particularly appealing. Something to drink, perhaps? That could waste about … five minutes…
After making herself some tea, she sat on the sofa to think. It was quiet. Things had been quiet for the past week and a half. Queenie hadn’t been visiting the clinic lately. She usually showed up every other day after work—Eelrune always finished much later. But recently, the human hadn’t shown up at all. Or called, or texted. Perhaps she was busy, but Eelrune had been contemplating the possibility that her friend had simply lost interest. After what she’d shared of her life; the little she did in her free time … it was highly possible Queenie found her boring.
Eelrune glanced at her shellphone. She could initiate a call herself, but knowing someone as talkative as Queenie, if she’d wanted to chat they’d be on the phone already. Then again … the human was prone to stumbling into dangerous incidents. What if something had happened to her?
Before Eelrune could begin wording her message, the phone rang. Startled, she answered at once, barely registering the caller ID—but it was someone she knew. “Hello?”
“Oh, Eelrune—” The high-pitched, teary warble of a voice reminded the nurse of Marina’s first visit to the clinic, where she’d burst through the door crying like Queenie had died. “It’s Queenie, she—”
“Has something happened?”
“Well—sort—kind of? I know you don’t know everything about human illnesses, but T’s phone is engaged, I don’t know who else to ask, I really need your help…”
“Okay, try to calm down. What’s the problem?”
Marina took a long, whimpering inhale, trying to control herself. “Ohhh… She says it’s fine, but you know how she downplays stuff all the time. She’s really sick, she only gets out of bed to throw up, she keeps sneezing and snuffling, and she can’t stand up for long…”
“That certainly doesn’t sound good…” Eelrune considered where she left the human handbook. This didn’t seem like a situation where she’d have to operate, but the details on human anatomy and bodily functions might help with a diagnosis. While it seemed like Marina was overreacting, it had been worrying enough that Queenie had kept this to herself. “I’ll come over and see what I can do. Where do you live?”
Silence fell on the other end at Marina’s pause. Not a snivel could be heard. As Eelrune was about to ask again, the octoling finally said, “I’ll meet you at Grizzco Industries and we’ll go from there.”
Once she’d collected her things, Eelrune set off to meet Marina. She hadn’t picked up much, most of the useful equipment was at the clinic, but the handbook and a purse-full of medicine would be enough until she could determine which to use.
Grizzco Industries wasn’t hard to reach, but the octoling wasn’t prompt about appearing, and it was an unpleasant place to stand around. When Marina finally did arrive, Eelrune was losing her patience, but she held her temper for the fretting girl. Besides, she’d used the time to revise human anatomy. It had some surprising similarities to other species.
“Sorry, I … got lost,” Marina mumbled. “I can find my way back, though. For sure. We can’t take too long.”
Eelrune nodded. “Lead the way.”
Marina seemed certain of her lead, though some of her turns felt a bit directionless, making it clear to Eelrune why she’d become lost. Eventually, though, they arrived at the outskirts of Splatsville, where a large lone caravan stood.
“Here we are.” Marina gestured before stepping closer.
“Where—the caravan?” Eelrune’s eyes darted around. “You both live here?”
“Yeah,” Marina confirmed, not registering the confusion in her voice as they started up the entrance. “It’s real close to the dig site I work at, so it’s a pretty great location – can you make the step? There aren’t too many, but it’s the only way in, so…”
Inhaling deeply, Eelrune tried to focus on the matter at hand. “Yes, not to worry.”
Once inside, it was clear they’d entered the kitchen. It was a lot tidier than the eel was expecting; clean kitchen surfaces and a neat dining table for one. There was another room leading to the right, but Marina seemed more interested in the one on the left.
“Queenie, I’m baaaack…” She motioned for Eelrune to stay put for now. “How are you feeling?”
A response drifted from within the room, nasally and pathetic. “Awful. Did you get me the tea I asked for?”
“Yes—and something better.” This time, Marina motioned for Eelrune to come through instead.
The moment she laid eyes on Queenie, a look of pure horror graced the human’s visage, and she pulled the covers of her bed up to her face. Her hair was unkempt, the bed itself was strewn with tissues, and there was a (mercifully empty) bucket next to the side-table.
“No, don’t look at me—!” Queenie squirmed, curling her legs up beneath the covers. “Marina, why did you bring her? Seeing me like this … it’s just a cold, I don’t need medical attention. Now she knows what squalor we live in!”
The octoling didn’t take this very well, and her concern flared into anger. “You can sleep outside if you want! I didn’t have to get you anything, or anyone, but I was worried about you! Shows me!” She stormed out into the kitchen, and Eelrune was left to deal with the situation.
“Well, it’s nice to see you too,” she huffed, sliding further into the room. “Marina said you’d been throwing up, and that sounds worse than a cold to me.”
“I’ll be fine, I prom—prom—hatchoo!” Queenie’s condition made this entirely unconvincing. “I’ll get better within a week on my own.”
“You might be right, but I’ve been asked to make sure.” Eelrune tightened her grip on her handbag. “I also brought a decongestant and some painkillers, but I’d like to make a diagnosis before I risk giving you any medicine.”
“Alright, fine. What do you want to do to me?”
“I’d like to take your temperature, listen to your breathing, and look at the inside of your mouth. There’s not much I can do without equipment…”
Queenie glowered at the floor, reluctantly lowering her blanket shield. “Do what you must, but I don’t like the sound of that last one.”
“I don’t have any tongue depressors on-hand, so you might escape it.” She didn’t have a sterilized thermometer either, so she placed her hand on Queenie’s forehead instead. It was warm. Humans were hot-blooded, but not THAT warm. “I think it’s safe to say you have a fever.”
“I could’ve told you that,” Queenie muttered. “How are you going to listen to my lungs without a stethoscope?”
Eelrune gave her a look, barely stopping herself from saying ‘How do you think?’ by maintaining her bedside manner. “I’ll put my head on your chest. The stethoscope’s purpose would be to amplify that sound.”
“You—you’ll—” Queenie was flushed already, but now she looked hotter. “Ohhh, hurry up then...” She took a sharp intake of breath as Eelrune rested her head against her.
“Exhale slowly, please.”
Queenie tried to do as she was told but was interrupted by her own cough. “Ugh… I hate having you see me like this.”
“Oh, please. I met you in a much more compromising situation.”
“At least that was spontaneous and dramatic.”
Eelrune rolled her eyes. Queenie’s pride always came from an unusual perspective. Maybe it was a human culture thing. “Yes, well … I can’t listen when you talk to me, so take another breath.”
This time, Queenie managed to subdue her cough. She shut her eyes, savouring some unspoken feeling as Eelrune listened.
The nurse soon lifted her head, adjusting her hair-tails. “It doesn’t sound like you have much liquid in there, which is better for you than it would be for seafolk.”
“I don’t like how you said much instead of any.”
“Well … your breathing is laboured. But it could be far worse. I can safely confirm that you’re not dying, as Miss Marina feared.”
Queenie pouted. “I told you I was fine.”
“That’s the problem—you’re not fine, either.” Eelrune folded her arms. “Is it true you’ve been throwing up? Can you stand for me? Can you walk?”
Trying to prove her point, Queenie struggled out from underneath the sheets and emerged from the bed, holding her hands out to steady herself. She teetered, attempting to set one foot forward, all with a defiant look on her face.
Eelrune put her arms out to catch her when she inevitably fell forward. “That settles it. I think you should stay in bed and rest.”
Queenie clung to her, hiding her face in her shoulder. She shook slightly, and Eelrune felt the fabric of her clothes dampen, but the human didn’t make a sound.
She patted her on the back. “I’m trying to help because I want you to get better. I’m not trying to hold anything over you—everyone gets sick.”
“Please can I have the medicine you brought now?” Queenie’s voice was much meeker than it had been.
“I’d like to give you it – but I have one more question to ask. Have you had our medicine before? I wouldn’t want to cause further complications by giving you something that wasn’t designed for your species’ intake.”
“Well, nothing else I’ve had has killed me yet … I’ll have a look at the packaging though, for your sake.”
“For my sake…?” Eelrune helped Queenie back into the bed, where the human sat up and grasped onto the blankets. She didn’t elaborate at this confusion and was still sulking. Before Eelrune could prompt her further, Marina re-entered with a tea-tray. It seemed she’d let off some steam with the kettle, her concern greater than any offense she’d taken. There were two cups.
“I’ve brought your tea.” She offered the tray to Queenie, who silently took one. Marina turned to Eelrune. “Sorry, I didn’t ask if you wanted one, but I made some anyway. If you want, there’s some sugar in the kitchen.”
“Oh—thank you.” The eel slid her cup off the tray, placing it on the bedside table. She watched as Marina tucked the tray under her arm. “Aren’t you having any?”
“Mine’s in the kitchen. I don’t really want to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing in here. Um, how’s it going?”
“I was just about to give Queenie something for her sickness. She should be alright, as long as she keeps resting and drinks plenty.”
“That’s a relief…” Marina rubbed at her brow. “Anyway, I’ll leave you be.”
Eelrune passed over the decongestant she’d taken out of her handbag. “You can’t take both medicines at the same time. But do make sure this hasn’t got anything toxic to humans…”
“I’m familiar with most medicinal components, I assure you,” Queenie reassured her as she studied the packaging, taking a quick sip of tea with her other hand. She thought it best not to mention her poison studies again. “This should be fine.” A pause. “Thank you.”
As Queenie took the medicine with her tea, Eelrune dipped out to put sugar in hers, mostly unnoticed. On her return, she rolled a chair over from Marina’s desk at the back of the room and sat at the bedside.
“I’m not much to look at right now,” Queenie grumbled, blowing on her tea.
“I assumed you’d want some company. But I can go—”
“Don’t go,” Queenie sighed. She put her tea aside. “Let me be plain with you, Runey.”
The tip of Eelrune’s tail twitched at the nickname, but she turned her head away in a demure manner. “I’m listening.”
“I am quite guarded with my emotions. Preserving my ego is … excruciatingly important to me.” She stopped to raise a tissue to her nose, sneezing before she continued. “As such, I find myself unpractised with expressing how I feel. About people, about my passions—I am often at war with myself, and as a result, I tend to put my foot in my mouth...”
Eelrune didn’t think that sounded healthy, exactly, but she left room for Queenie to continue.
“Which brings me to what I’m trying to say now. You … are very dear to me. You’ve done a lot for me, and I enjoy my time in your company.” The human fought her nerves, swallowing. “So … please don’t ever think I want you to leave, or that I’d want to leave you, er, ‘high and dry’. If I’ve been acting strange, it’s because…” Well, she didn’t have to admit the whole truth. “I’m struggling between long-dead social expectations and being a good friend.”
Hearing that Queenie had finished, Eelrune exhaled a long sigh. The human’s hand was flopped on the bedsheets, and she took it gently. She probably couldn’t catch it, but she’d definitely be washing her own hands later... “I understand. Well—more accurately, I understand what you’re trying to say. Your situation is practically unheard of. A fish out of water, if you’ll pardon the expression.” She looked down. “That must come with a lot to learn. Not just about Splatsville, but about yourself. I had a taste of that when I first moved here, but for you, well…” Eelrune looked up again to see how Queenie was reacting.
The human was regarding her with intense interest, patiently waiting for her to continue, so she did.
“It’s not surprising that you’d feel overwhelmed—nor will things magically fit into place.” She squeezed her hand, hoping to reassure her. “But if you want me here, then I’ll stay. I want you to get better.”
Queenie’s mouth half-opened, but she seemed to think better of whatever she was going to say. Eventually, she asked, “Is that because you’re a nurse, or because you’re my friend?”
“Well, take your pick.” Eelrune drew her hand back, reaching for her tea. “Because I’m both. But I didn’t come all the way here on my day off just because some patient of mine had the flu.”
The edges of Queenie’s mouth curled upward for the first time that day. It was weak, but the smile was there. “So … tell me what gossip I’ve missed while I’ve been sick in bed.”
"Aw, come on Ribbon, did you forget me already? I worked with Mr Manta at the coffee shop, remember?" Brine chuckles awkwardly.
"Oh … yeah! Coffee billboard guy. I remember," she gives him a beaky grin. "Hi!"
Pansy smiles, too. "You put down all those important attorney cases to come party at the concert with everyone?"
"Yeah! Well - it's always busy, but I wanted to see everyone again. And unwind. And, well, I also wanted to ask your friend there something." He gestures at Custard, who is shyly taking cover behind the others. "It's been long overdue, but I wanted to ask you if ... maybe you'd want to go on a date? Like … like before."
Custard slinks further behind Pansy, who is giving her an intrigued look, but pipes up. "That's really sweet of you, Brine, but I'm kind of … engaged."
"En—engaged?!"
"Huh, what?!" It seems this is news to Pansy as well. "You never told me!!"
After recovering from his initial shock, Brine is surprisingly receptive. "Haha, I guess it's silly of me to assume you're still single after, what, six years? Congratulations! Perhaps I can rectify my mistake by showing sniper support for Team Squid Sister."
Molly shuffles her feet, hiding something heavy behind her back as she approaches. "Hey Max, uh. I remembered what you said about like. Breaking weapons. And I've been trying to learn how to make 'em for myself. And it's, uh, harder than I thought, but..." She produces what she was hiding, a thick metal shooter-type weapon. For something makeshift it looks quite smooth and sturdy. "Eventually I made this Gal out of the stuff I had. The fire rate is pretty bad, and it's probably not turf legal, but I designed it to be super resilient, and uh, it's for you." She coughs. "I could try to make a different weapon class next, if you uh, if it doesn't suck."
You know... I bet it can be made turf legal pretty easily now! Seems like they're thinking of us big squids with some of the recent weapons- like I can finally use a sturdy bow and splatana now! Me n' grandma can probably tinker with it later.
Thanks a lot Molly, it's not easy making these kinds of things, yanno?
"R—reely? You like it?" Molly shakes off any anxiousness about it being a total disappointment, beaming with pride. "Thanks a ton! It was a fun project — you think so?"
If he and his grandma could sort that out, it would be great to see in action. Nice to hear other developers were actually trying to accommodate that strength, too. "Maybe she could teach me somethin' sometime. But it's no sweat! It gave me the chance to learn lots more about weapon making." She gives a thumbs up.
"Okay yep I'm just gonna. I'm just gonna press the voting button for Past. And then I won't have to worry about picking between Frye or Pearl. And I'll be on Team Dinosaur. I can do this. I can press it. I can make my final choice. I can press this voting button before the Splatfest ends. And I will be on a team."
"I'm not majorly proud of my past or anything, but it's super important to learn from it. Not to mention my entire life's work is based around history!" Marina laughs aloud. "If I didn't choose Past, it would be a total disservice to—hey kid, where's your Splatfest tee?"
Ribbon shifts her weight, looking away. "I ... can't figure it. I wanted to pick Frye's team, I've been doing that with my mom, and kids are the future generation, or something — but now Pearl's here, and I was her fan first, and you're supposed to live in the moment and stuff — but I want to vote Past because I LOVE dinosaurs, and that's what most my friends picked, but I'm meant to make my own decisions, and I just—I JUST DON'T KNOW."
"Yeesh, maybe it wasn't as simple as I thought..."
"Mph..” Eelrune shook her head, not fully satisfied leaving the uncomfortable topic behind, but trying to respect Queenie’s privacy.
“Oh, were you..?” The eel giggled, shaking her head. “I always was. My grandparents and my father inspired me through their own work in the medical field, but I wasn’t satisfied if I took the same path they did. So, I focused more around pediatrics and labor- and so, here I am.” She itched her nose.
“No, not really.” Eelrune sighed, shrugging. “I figure most of my class simply assumed I was going to spend that evening committing to my studies instead. It would have been a better use of my time in hindsight, but not much I can do about it now.”
She chuckled sheepishly. “Well.. with the Maguros, once you leave the Deepsea Metro, you’re out of that protection and become the Inkling’s problem. I never really needed it, thank goodness- Oh.” Eelrune holds her hands together. “Well, Miss Nova is an incredibly kind woman, despite her husband’s reputation. It’s a common take down in Deepsea, but everyone says Nova’s the real leader of the Metro. Mister Ao has all the power, but he wouldn’t be there if Nova didn’t make connections with the entire Metro. Shell- she still texts me a little small-talk here and there, she’s made sure I know how thankful she is for helping them.”
-
“You think so?” Queenie’s heart is moved—it didn’t seem like Eelrune had too much of a problem with it, she’d even come up with an explanation, but it sounded lonely. “Well, as pathetic as a promenade can be, I would have insisted you come along. Though being as dedicated as you are, who can say whether that would ultimately have been better or worse?”
Talk about the Maguros is very interesting to the human, in part due to how close she’d been to actually meeting them. It was still better that she hadn’t, but Eelrune’s experience was from the better side of them. “I’m relieved to hear that.” Her eyes widen. “I would never have guessed – even now? Though I suppose a good nurse is someone you’d want to keep contact with.” Hadn’t she done so herself? … Well, perhaps that was for another reason. “Did you ever do any other—er—favours for them, or just the midwifery? … Sorry, my imagination is getting away from me a little bit.”
Truth be told, Queenie was still thinking about something else. She’d experienced enough reassurances in the past 24 hours to tread further into that territory. “If you don’t mind me continuing my invasive questioning streak … by your own admittance, it sounds like you’ve never dated. I know you’re very serious about work, but … is a partner something you’d actually want? Marriage, children? … A ‘first-kiss’?” She smirks to cover her nerves.
"A dangerous…..??” Eelrune muses, confounded by the interest if only because of her time in the Metro.
“Oh, well, good…” She breathes a sigh of relief, shaking her head. “It sounds like you have complex feelings about your stabber.” Eelrune frowns. She’s not sure where exactly her disappointment is really stemming from, but it’s there.
Queenie’s reaction began to make the Eel feel stupid herself. She thought she’d been direct enough, but… “Mm, not as often as you think.”
“Oh, Queenie..” Eelrune chuckles, before blinking. “Ah. Well… I had a crush on an anemone girl once, I guess. Though that was back when I was a fry, so I guess that doesn’t really count. My nose was usually in medical studies all of my life, so I missed out on most of that embarrassing history to share stories about. ..Unless you would find missing out on prom night suspenseful..”
She pouts in genuine thought, looking up. “Well… maybe helping deliver for a Mafia boss’s wife would sound more intense? I guess it would with hindsight- those kinds of stories are pretty common for the Metro, but sound crazy out here. Anyway- That’s how I was able to afford moving out here, in case you were curious.”
-
“Yes, though…” Queenie fidgets. “It’s less to do with fanciful feelings and more to do with human extinction. We’re still killing eachother—” But keeping Tara alive would easily have ended more human lives. Their encounter alone was proof. But, if it could just have been different … Queenie claps her hands, eager to move on. “—anyway!”
Eelrune’s answers to her vague line of questioning has the human’s full attention. “Maybe it doesn’t count, but it’s still adorable~” It was a tiny piece of information, but it’s massively bolstered Queenie’s confidence. “I promise you graduation parties aren’t all that. I spent mine scheming ways to initiate a breakup—I was an evil little witch—but were you still studying for higher education? Or was it not worth your time? Did ... no one invite you?”
The next subject garners even more interest. “Now that is extremely engaging—” She leans over intently. “You did that?? I’m not surprised they’d pay a fortune with the death rates, but that—surely you have some protection from the family?! What were they like with you?”
By the time Finn had joined the group, the sun was at its highest point in the sky – a very bad time to go out into the desert. Instead, he and Marina spent some time practicing as Queenie paced around with her thoughts. Getting paint on a human wasn’t going to do much good as retaliation, but she supposed it made it harder to move, and if nothing else the weapons could be used for bludgeoning. There wasn’t any guarantee things would get hostile, but the dread that had settled in her gut wasn’t budging. She felt for the cold metal inside her jacket’s inner pocket.
Finn wasn’t as rusty with his Herobrush as he claimed, and soon felt prepped enough to head out. After a quick meal, the group set out into the desert, carrying enough supplies for an emergency. The coordinates led them a little ways out, but with a clear destination it only took twenty minutes for them to arrive on foot. The human ship had come to rest behind an outcrop of rock, visible only by its fin and what appeared to be a laser canon.
“Do you think this is it?” Marina asked, her mouth agape.
“No, I think it must be some other human ship abandoned in the desert,” Queenie snipped. “Of course this is it.”
“Hey now,” Finn cautioned, though with nothing to back it up. “Let’s go.”
None of them really knew where the entrance was, so they sidled around the ship until they discovered a door.
Finn looked over his shoulder at the others. “Should we knock?”
His question was met with shrugs and eyerolls, so he opted to ta-pa-tap on the metal door. There was no answer. Unable to cope with the suspense, Marina pulled on the handle instead – it wasn’t locked, and the door came open with a tug and a chunk sound. Casting a glance at the others, the octoling motioned for them to follow.
Brightly lit, electricity was already running onboard the ship, and there was a zesty chemical smell as if someone had recently cleaned the floors. The door had opened out into an airlock, though this too was open, allowing easy passage to the rest of the ship. A figure was standing by the exit. Whoever it was caught sight of the newcomers, and they bolted further into the spacecraft.
“Wait!!” Marina called out.
Queenie put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s no use. They won’t understand you anyway.”
“If we follow now, we might catch up.” Finn gestured ahead, before taking his own suggestion and hurrying through the next door. The others followed suit.
It was hard to navigate the interior of the ship without a map. There seemed to be doors everywhere; ones with handles, ones that opened diagonally, ones with windows...
“If you think about the shape outside,” Marina noted, “the front of the ship should be in that direction.” She pointed to their right, at one of the larger diagonal sliding doors.
“Do you think that’s where they went?” Asked Finn, wishing he’d acted fast enough to catch them leaving.
“If not, it should at least be where the control room is. I figure the captain would be around there.”
Marina was correct about the ship’s layout, as the next area was a long corridor. Queenie peered through a window on one of the doors off to the side. It was wall to wall with cryo pods. She pulled away quickly, following the others.
“Hang on,” Marina held up one arm to stop her friends, clutching her Octoshot. A small white robot on wheels, about knee-height, had rolled out of a panel on the wall. It turned its singular camera lens at the visitors before continuing to trundle down the hall.
“Well … it seemed harmless.” Finn, who had reached for the Herobrush strapped to his back, lowered his hand. “Wonder where it’s going…”
“It’s probably for cleanup or some other menial task.” Queenie shrugged. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get on with this.”
At this insistence, they all proceeded down the corridor and entered the next sliding door, which indeed led to the control room.
Two human women in grey coveralls stood conversing in the centre of the room. One was older, with an unshakeable posture, and the other was youthful and frantic. Their outfits were printed with the ship’s logo. The younger of the two must have been the figure they spotted in the airlock, as she pointed fearfully at the group, gesturing as she talked. Looking over, the older woman froze. She locked eyes with the only other human there, losing her reply mid-sentence.
“No,” Queenie was the first to speak. “It’s not possible—of all people—” She took a stumbling step backward as the other human advanced. Unfortunately, the door had automatically locked itself behind them.
With forming tears, the human captain spoke in a language Marina and Finn could not understand. She wrapped her arms around Queenie. “My daughter! After all this time…”
Queenie’s posture was stiff, her face a picture of disgust, pain, and terror. “Don’t—” she got out, speaking her first language, “Don’t touch me.”
Serafina Ono relinquished her grip, forlorn and frowning. “Do you not remember your own mother?”
“I remember you all too well,” Queenie sneered. “Where was this love and desperation when I was a child?”
Marina and Finn exchanged glances, with eachother and with the uninvolved human, who looked just as bewildered.
“You’re right, Queenie. I was young, then, and foolish. But with what little is left of humanity … can you find it in your heart to hear my story?”
Queenie didn’t offer a reply and remained stock still, clutching her folded arms.
“The others can’t understand,” the younger woman piped up. “We can have STORM translating with the file from—”
“Yes, you’d better do that.” Serafina handwaved her. The young woman pulled up a tablet and began typing something in.
A calm, masculine voice spoke from somewhere above, ‘Ready to translate.’
“Very well—as you should know, I’m the new captain of this ship—Serafina Ono.”
As she made pause, STORM relayed her speech in Inklish for the rest of the group.
“Damn, that’s going to be annoying…” she scorned, before continuing, “With me here is Nami Ono, my stepdaughter. I presume this … red octopus creature is Marina Salt? Who’s your third?”
Queenie shot Nami a piercing look, which made her stare down out of fear.
But Marina answers, and STORM translates her speech too. “I’m Marina, yes. I’m, um, a humans expert. This is Finn, he’s here to help. Sorry, I’m not sure I follow—do you know each other after all?”
“Oh, right. You wouldn’t have heard. Queenie is my biological daughter, yes,” Serafina attempted to clarify.
“It’s complicated. I’ll explain later,” Queenie muttered. “I don’t believe it, of everyone in the world…”
“But—the cryo chambers for the rest of your family—they were empty?”
“I wasn’t part of their little family anymore,” Serafina elaborated, a bitterness dripping from that standalone statement, “but let’s not dig up those painful memories… I remarried, and my new husband, Aoto Ono, was the lead developer of this spacecraft and its AI. The ship was designed to keep us away from Earth until it was safe to return.”
“That doesn’t sound like it went exactly to plan.” Finn adjusted his spectacles. “What happened to your husband?”
“During his most recent centurial checkup, he took his own life.”
Nami Ono’s hand flew to her mouth, an audible gasp escaping her. STORM didn’t translate her utterance, “Dad, he—why would he?” But it was clear this was the first she’d heard of how they lost him.
Finn immediately felt awful for prying. “I’m sorry—I didn’t realise.”
“These things happen, unfortunately.” Serafina bowed her head but didn’t seem all too moved by her husband’s passing. “He was a great man. We marked a grave for him not far from here. But his death was the reason STORM decided to wake us up … after his next 100-year interval.”
“One hundred years…” Marina brooded over this information. “We’re very sorry for your loss. Is that why you came back to Earth?”
“In part. But we have the other humans to think about, too—the ones still in stasis.” Serafina nodded slowly. “As the new Captain, I’ve decided it’s best not to wake them up until we have somewhere safe to live, with renewable resources. We have plenty of rations to keep us fed, but the desert isn’t a good place for survival. And from my husband's space observation notes, I understand overpopulation and territory disputes were already an issue before we arrived.”
“So,” Queenie finally spoke up again, deliberately choosing the cephalopod’s language over her mother’s. “What do you need us for?”
With a small crack in her patient façade, Serafina gritted her teeth. “To the point? Very well. We need information about the nearby settlement. Preferably a map—infrastructure. We’ve observed plenty from local television, but only now do we have a means to translate. If it’s safe, an escort would then be useful for surveying the landscape.” She pauses momentarily to let STORM’s translation catch up. “As stated - I don’t want anyone to leave cryostasis until I am certain this city can sustain human life.”
“Oh—well, we can do that, but do you not need other supplies?” Asked Marina. “Like more food? Or fuel?”
“A water source if anything. STORM is capable of running on solar energy, though fuel is necessary if we are to return to space.”
“You don’t need MY help, then.” Queenie shook her head. “I haven’t lived in this future long. There’s no reason for us to talk.”
“On the contrary, my dear! Humans should stick together. A shrewd, sharp-witted girl like you would be a massive help communicating with these … squidlings.” She opened her arms with a casual shrug. “I know I’m not your favourite person right now. But would you help for the sake of the other hundred humans on board?”
Cold and stiff, Queenie replied, “I’ll think about it.”
“We’ll help you gather information, Miss Captain,” Finn hastily agreed. “If that’s going to help you get your footing. We can bring things as you need them.”
“Yeah, I can send you data through our communication system—through ORCA,” Marina agrees, though with a cautious glance at Queenie. She looks back at Nami, too. The young woman had become even more withdrawn than before.
“Wonderfully kind of you both. We can keep communicating the way we have, yes. I’ll give you time to think, Queenie. You’re always welcome to return to the ship. But the rest of you—I’d appreciate it if you kept quiet about all this for now.”
Finn got the uncomfortable feeling that they were being shooed out. “Right. A bit of a major news story if we didn’t, I understand,” he mumbles, nodding once.
Queenie shook her head. “You’d be surprised how little Splatsville cares about real humans.”
“Yes,” Marina sighed. “But we’ll keep the secret all the same. It’s an honour to be the first to make contact with you! I’ll send across any information sources you might find useful.” She bobs a short bow.
“Much obliged. See them out, will you, Nami?”
The group slowly trudged out of the ship. There was an awkward air of silence—things seemed to have gone well, there were more humans, and they’d agreed to help them. But there was an obvious strain in the way all three humans interacted with each other. What would happen with more of them?
“I’m sorry about your dad.” Marina put her hand on Nami’s arm as they reached the exit.
STORM wasn’t listening anymore, so after a moment’s hesitation, Queenie bothered to translate instead. Spanish didn’t seem to be Nami’s first language, but she understood it well enough. “She’s sorry about what happened with your father.”
“I am alright.” Nami smiled at them all weakly. “But please return soon.”
Eelrune snorted, humoring Queenie and checking her temperature. "Hmmm… Nope, seems like you’re completely fine.”
“Really….?” Her eyebrow perked curiously, frowning. “Hm. Well, it’s only normal you would seek comfort like that, given the situation. …Of course, I don’t think anyone would expect to walk out of a conversation cut open like that.” Eelrune shakes her head. “Did you report them…? I’d hate to have another fish cut up in the clinic…”
She let Queenie escape the topic, smiling coyly before rolling her eyes at the comment. “Well, thank you. …You know that’s the first thing patients always say to me after they leave, right?” Eelrune chuckles, shaking her head. “You don’t owe me anything, it’s my job. You wouldn’t owe that ice cream fish for buying a scoop, would you?” She smiles slyly. “Honestly, just having someone to talk with is good enough for me. It gets lonely living way out in Splatsville. …And dry. Very dry.” Eelrune jokes.
-
Queenie has trouble hiding her glee at the contact, the corners of her mouth twitching. “You think so? All the better that you checked, it could have been serious.”
She nods more sincerely at the Tara-centric discussion. “Yes, I suppose … there was a dangerous air about her, but I thought it was the safe kind of dangerous—er, if you know what I mean.” Queenie fusses with her hair, avoiding eye contact on that one. “You’re right, though. Ah—I didn’t, but … it wasn’t long after that an enemy of hers informed me she had died due to some other incident.” Her rather distant expression doesn’t change. “Perhaps I should feel glad, but … ah well. Another piece of trauma for me to unpack later.”
After attempting to express her feelings, Queenie is a little put-out by her own inability to get her emotions across—but at the same time, she’s relieved. “Mgh… You’re quite welcome. I mean what I say, not every nurse picks their patients off the street. Nor does every ice cream salesperson hand out bath coupons. But it must feel cliché if you hear it often…” …and foolish of her, perhaps, to think she was the only one smitten with the eel post-op.
“If I could change the climate for you, I would. But as I can only provide you with my companionship, I will continue to do so.” She forces a laugh out of herself. “With that said, enough about me. If I’m spilling my guts, I want to hear something from you. Some secret, or harrowing event … not that I’d expect something like a stabbing. Maybe a future hope, or past love. Or perhaps—” She covers a yawn. “—you could tell a nosey human to shove it and talk about your favourite blend of tea.”
Eelrune pouts internally at that ‘sometimes’ comment, but keeps it to herself. There’d be no point in arguing back and forth over it the whole night.
"You’re welcome. That’s…. good to know.” Eelrune shakes her head, helping Queenie up the sofa. “…That will be… difficult, yes.” The eel sighs.
“Well..” She shakes her head. “Perhaps not that long ago. I recall having one after I left the metro, but…” Eelrune shrugs. “I forgot what it was even about. I’m.. not exactly keen on remembering my nightmares. I fear it may invite them into my head again.”
She quickly glances at Queenie to gauge her expression before looking the other way to answer. “Well.. I’m off tomorrow, so it’s no problem for me, Queenie. Personally- this is nothing compared to the sleep I lost over medical school, and…” Eelrune smirks slightly. “..You’re still unwell, and it wouldn’t be professional of me to leave you like that, would it?”
-
“You did? … Ah, that’s quite sensible.” Even back when Queenie had normal nightmares, she couldn’t help picking them apart. But those weren’t quite as scary when she was awake…
The human perks up a bit. “You mean it? Oh, well…” Queenie puts her hand to her cheek, failing to cover a blush. “Yes—you’d better take care of me. I’m still feeling a bit out of sorts, and … sensitive.” She crosses her legs. “I might have hit my head when I fell – and I feel feverish – here, you should check.”
Despite her attention-seeking, Queenie does attempt to further their conversation. “Do you remember the day you found me? It’s a bit of a blur, what with me bleeding out, but … I remember how I felt.” She twitches a smile, both wanting to elaborate and wanting to keep everything to herself. Getting out all that negative energy had loosened her lips. “I felt vulnerable, mostly. I’d just thrown myself at the first person to show interest in me, which was proven rash enough by my own wounds. I’m extremely fortunate that you found me when you did.”
The rest is harder to admit. “I thought that that was why … after you stitched me up, I thought perhaps I was just…” No—she can’t continue, she shakes her head. “…but Eelrune, if I’ve learnt anything, it’s that you’re very important to me. Whether it’s kindness, or duty—I hope someday I’ll find a way to repay you.”
“Hm?” She looks down at the chocolate again before looking off to the side. “Well- sugars are important, even Doc understands this. They help prevent patients from fainting from injuries like blood loss…” Eelrune stresses, though it’s clear she doesn’t mean any harm.
“Hm..” The eel just nods her head, letting Queenie continue. She isn’t able to wait after the human’s pause before hugging her, patting her back. “Oh Queenie.. I had no idea.” Eelrune frowns, before continuing. “No one deserves to go through that- most certainly not you.”
-
“Mm, I’m sure it’s all very practical and serious…” Queenie slowly shakes her head, before explaining everything.
“H—heh,” she utters nervously, overcoming this shyness to cling back to Eelrune. She buries her head in her shoulder like she’s bracing for impact. Muffled, she replies, “Sometimes, I wonder … but I’m glad you think so.”
She doesn’t say anything else for a little while, just wanting to be held. Physical contact, she missed it altogether, but it was especially comforting coming from Eelrune. After what must have been at least a solid minute, she loosens her hold to speak clearly. “...thank you. I'm still relieved, of course, to be here—I've met wonderful people like you. It was difficult for me to explain, but … not as hard as I thought. I think I’ll find it easier to tell the others now.” She sighs gently. “Getting back to sleep, however, might not be so easy. I suppose I should get off the floor.” Despite saying this, Queenie only moves when there’s some indication that Eelrune will. She slumps onto the sofa.
“I suppose the last time you had a nightmare was a long time ago … ? Still—it’s late—I should let you go back to bed.” She didn’t want to be alone, and she can’t quite meet her eyes. “I’m sure I can find some way to bide my time for the next, oh … five hours."
“A nightmare?” Eelrune blinked, though that was her base assumption, anyway. She sighs patiently, letting her sit back up. “…Many people suffer night terrors, Queenie, it doesn’t make you any weirder or weaker to have them.”
“Well…” She manages a smile. “I think telling at least someone might help. Being one of the few humans probably doesn’t help, I imagine…” Eelrune muses, taking her hand and sitting off to the side, digging into one of the pockets of her first aid bag and pulling out a small bar of chocolate, offering it to Queenie.
“Here- it should help a little bit.”
-
“Mnggh…” It wasn’t much of a response, but Queenie didn’t want to argue if Eelrune didn’t think any less of her.
Grateful to have her hand held, she manages to calm down a bit more, and finally cracks a smile on sight of the chocolate bar. “You keep that for emergencies, then…? You and Doctor Takowasa…”
They’d given her chocolate after her stitches, she remembered that much. Queenie wasn’t sure whether it was just for comfort, or because it was supposed to boost endorphins, but she accepts. She’s slow to nibble on it, mulling over her words as much. “To start in an easier place … myself, my family—we were preparing ourselves for cryostasis. An expensive, exclusive technology, we weren’t certain of our survival. Would it work? For how long would we be frozen? Would the future be kind to us? … Still, with our war-torn world and the rising tides, it was preferable.” She pauses to eat a little. “The dream often ignores that part, it can interrupt anything. But a bit of context for you.”
“There was a scientist overseeing the procedure, Doctor Justin Cain—he was meant to ensure there weren’t any problems going forward. He was quite avoidant, stiff, and made little of himself … until, as a matter of urgency, we were meant to enter. Behind a locked door, he had to brief us—” Queenie’s throat tightens, and she has to stop again, taking the time to finish all of the chocolate. All the while she doesn’t let go of Eelrune’s hand with her other, squeezing tighter. Eventually she continues, “Cain didn’t explain the procedure. It was some speech about … how entitled we were, and how we deserved to die, and …” She shook her head. “Perhaps it was calculated. Perhaps he had gone mad. He didn’t think through an exit for himself, and I don’t particularly care. But he must have trailed some flammable substance through the room, because he dropped a match and set it ablaze.”
Queenie swallows, staring ahead. “The details that follow are … a bit much, but … I struggled with him, and I fell backwards into one of the cryogenic chambers. In the heat of the room, its delayed activation prolonged my misery. Imprisoned, I saw everything, heard everything—that was the worst part, they were all screaming—” With her free hand, she covers her face. That was quite enough. She had died, too, quite painfully inside the malfunctioning machine, but it ultimately had not changed the outcome. “…anyway. That’s what I dream about. A horrific memory, a constant reminder that I’m the last.” Hand removed, she shuts her eyes. “If you don’t mind … the best medicine you can give is open arms.”
The loud noise had definitely woke Eelrune up. She'd initially assumed the worst case scenario and grabbed her first-aid bag, though after approaching the slumped Queenie it seemed more clear it wasn't a physical health issue.
Eelrune settled for kneeling down and patting the human's shoulder for the time being. Psychological wounds were trickier to deal with than physical wounds.
"...No human stomach ulcer, I hope..?" She manages a small joke.
-
“N—nnn…” Queenie tries to respond in turn, ultimately failing. It helped immensely that Eelrune had come to her aid, and the contact was helping, but her own perceived helplessness momentarily makes her sob harder. After a moment or two, she sits up, heavily dabbing her eyes with her fluffy sleeves. “I ff—I fell. I was just … having a nightmare.”
It was very obviously more than a bad dream, but she’s at least aware of how this sounds. “…sorry. It happens every so often. I just didn’t think—” She chokes back a whimper, stopping the waterworks from starting up again. “—I didn’t expect you to find out that I experience night terrors over one stay. I must look a sight…”
Indeed, Queenie’s nose is running, her eyes are puffy, and her hair was tousled by her fall, but did it really matter? “I’ve never … I’ve never told anyone what the dreams are about. About how my family died. Marina knows something, but … I’ve not told her either.”
She bows her head, taking a long, snivelling breath. Tentatively, she puts her hand out, hoping for it to be held. “But you—I’ll tell you if you think you can listen. I promise to spare you the imagery, but … ” She didn’t want to admit keeping it all to herself was driving her mad, but … “I trust you, and … well, it can’t make things much worse.”
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