#css shelby

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BUT HOW?

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(@asknewsquidbeak) A transmission came through. “This is Agent 4 of the New Squidbeak Splatoon, reporting into base. I have recieved words of DJ Octavio becoming sick in containment. I am nearing Octo Canyon and will be conducting a medical checkup on him to ensure his health.”

Oh heavens no. Shelby practically spits out a mouthful of coffee. He adjusts his mic and speaks in a stern voice.

"DO NOT TOUCH HIM. DO NOT GO NEAR HIM. DO YOU HAVE HIM CONTAINED? DO YOU COPY? DO YOU COPY?"

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OK so you are here now best thing to do is live till morning then you will learn what's happing

The frantic inkling backs away from the salmonid hoard. They suddenly see not salmonids, but infected inklings, making their way towards them.

"I need to get out of here-"

They scramble to their feet and look for anywhere that could be considered shelter. The streets of Splatsville are highly unfamiliar, and Pyro finds itself lost in the swarms of salmonids.

"Help- HELP!"

A bright flash of light. Suddenly, a small horseshoe crab drops from the air, landing on its feet.

"PYRO! THERE YOU ARE I'VE BEEN LOOKING-"

"SHELBY BEHIND YOU!"

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[@splatlands3] *neo opens the door to this place seeing everyone in this place and they are filled with wonder and speeking in octarian* "Hello someone told me that you need some help and you can just call me neo and this is little buddy" *They then hold out little buddy*

"Anyone know octarian?" Fisheye calls out, holding a frying pan in hand in case the octarian is infected.

"I know it." Shelby comes out from behind Fisheye, telling the grumpy salmonid he'd take care of the speaking part.

"(What's your business doing here? Are you clean of any illnesses? Do you have an ID card that says you're cleansed? If not, I cannot let you speak with us for the moment.)"

Shelby felt bad for disregarding the octoling in a seemingly harsh nature. He had a hunch they were clear of Ink Rot, but he was genuinely concerned for the safety of Pyro, since inklings have a fragile immune system. He couldn't risk it.

"(...Fisheye will escort you to one of the stations a few minutes away to have you checked out. We're happy to have others help us, but we cannot let you do that unless we know you do not have Ink Rot.)"

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After a bit of static a short messsge would come in on the radio "Hello? This is Agent 3 of the New Squidbeak Splatoon does anyone copy? I repeat this is Agent 3 of New Squidbeak Splatoon do you copy?" It seems to be coming from the same frequency as when the message came in about a sick inkling in Ammo Knights... was someone seeking them out this time? -@asknewthree

Shelby sips on a cup of coffee while tuning the radio dials. Suddenly a static message pops through, making Shelby squint carefully as the voice becomes clear. He presses a button on his mic and leans in.

"This is CSS Headquarters, can you hear us? This is CSS Headquarters, can you hear us?"

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*A small ding can be heard from the computer as a new message comes up... It's written in Octarian* "This is Agent 3 of the NSS also known as the New Squidbeak Splatoon reporting from Alterna- There are still no signs of Agent 8 anywhere I have already checked most of the islands- I am about to start searching the kettles- Has anyone else of the NSS or affiliated found anything?"

*Soon after another message would come up it was the same message again but in Inkling- the language also seemed a bit more broken as if they weren't a native speaker of the language... It looked like this message was intended for a large range of people but definitely not them*

-@asknewthree

The message caught Pyro's attention from dozing off. They squint at the message in their dark office room.

"Shelby come here."

"Hm? Is it another weird message? We've been getting odd signals lately..." Shelby squints at the screen. "I'd still put this in the database for later inspection."

"Agent 8? NSS?? Alterna???"

"This wasn't sent by someone from here... I'd have to do more research on this one."

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Whatever comms device the CSS might have in their hideout begins to buzz with strange static, a couple of snatches of words…

If they investigate, and tune it just right, they can barely hear half of a conversation.

"...walked in smelling like--I can't even describe it," a nasally, masculine voice says. "They said something about needing their splatana fixed and then just collapsed on the floor. ... Yeah, I called ... hope they're okay ... yes I cleaned everything ... no I didn't actually fix the splatana, it was covered in that gunky ink, I wasn't touching it! ... Yeah, I think I'm okay. Just a little shell-shook, that's all. Didn't sleep great ... I sleep fine sometimes! ... have to go open up ... later."

( @askammoknights )

What? ... No this cannot be-

Pyro rushed over to the radio, nabbing the other members from the break room. All now gathered around the device, the air tense around them.

"Shelby, can you see if you can get this radio to get a clearer signal?"

"I can try. Just give me 5."

The Ammo Knights shopkeeper carefully dialed the radio's buttons carefully, seeing if the radio waves could match the signal. Pyro was sure they heard every detail they could grab from the distorted calls. "Gunky ink" was something very common amongst the infected. They also heard "smell" and "collapsed on the floor".

When the radio waves synced with the signal, the CSS team all heard the horrific message that the radio had begun to relay.

"Could it be...? No-"

"Patient zero," Line and Sinker both usher.

"Impossible! This makes no sense in a scientific or medical matter!"

Shelby furrows his brows, listening in to the static voice.

"Wait, this is someone who runs Ammo Knights. A Shellendorf..."

"He succumbed to Ink Rot centuries ago, didn't he?"

"Yeah..." Shelby replies solemnly. "We can only hope he'll not end up as their universe's Patient Zero."

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THINK FAST CHUCKLENUTS *throws a pipebomb @ u*

"Heads up!"

Shelby jumps from wherever he was, pulling out a small pistol and shooting the pipe bomb hurling towards the Inkling. Pyro is unfazed by the shrapnel barely missing them.

"We're pretty much used to explosives in our area."