#m’ actually kinda proud of this one gasp !! :0

[satorisoup]

more of the silly !! ( big sweater edition ) :3

[burstbombbitch]

don't chase the rabbit >:0

      Don’t chase the rabbit. || ⚜       please do n’t send more right now lmfao

      ❝Step aside.❞

He laughed at his own joke; she couldn’t, could she? Not with her hands around his, desperately prying at the grip he had on her face.

Blinded by the palm pressed against her visage, and ensnared by the digits that dug deeply into her head, Bon’s teeth—ineffectively snapping at what flesh she could try to get at—do nothing more than become a gritted scowl.

Through his fingers, she could see her team being wiped. She could hear her heart plummeting into the depths of her being. This wasn’t anything new, but like this brutish Inkling, it still held her with a cold, harsh grip. The taut grasp on his hand weakens as resolve bleeds out her veins. The shine of the rainmaker advancing garnered a breathy sigh of despair, and the fight in her finally fails, her hands falling to her side.

❝Fuck you,❞ she wheezed. Who knew that those were the magic words for her descent? Contact was relatively rough, and no amount of clenched teeth could withhold the shrill screech of a damaged nose. With his hand now on the back of her head, pressing her face into the edge of Mahi-Mahi’s land, the little pinkling got a bountiful view of her leakage. Oh, oh, that was a lot of ink… Desperate peripherals acknowledged the nasty smile that spread this squid’s lips from ear to ear. Her team wasn’t coming. No one was; they had to defend the pedestal. If one could call their pitiful, three-person beat-down a defense.

      ❝Something tells me you’re too young for that kinda language, brat.❞

      ❝’m here, aren’t I? Old ‘nough. S-So… Play fair!❞

      ❝You just proved my point.❞

He didn’t do her the justice of raising her head from the ground. She’d have to do that for herself while he pulled her tentacles closer to the water-logged edge.

      ❝Let me clean up your act.❞

She held her breath. Rightfully so. Tightly closed eyes still felt the pressure of sifting waters knocking along her cranium. The ink of her running nose faded into obscurity with the liquid’s cleansing properties. Rolling bubbles danced atop the broken surface tension, exacerbated by her inability to retain air. Only when the oxygen pockets would halt did he relent, yanking her out of the wet clutches of her demise. Instinctively, her mouth flies open, gasps sufficing in her desperate gathering of air. Upon seeing her go for gulps, the inkling plummets her back into the shimmering water. ❝Now, now,❞ he laughed. ❝I didn’t say you could do that! What if you were to be nasty to me again? That’d hurt my feelings.❞

His habit of pulling her out right when her struggle relented was tiresome. She would’ve preferred a graceful splat. The next two dips were given significantly less fight, and his boredom was evident when he yanks her out for the second-to-last time.

      ❝You’re pretty quiet now, squiddo.❞

Tired eyes, lacking their usual light, merely gaze through him. The most she can garner is hocking up a glob of her ink, only to spit it directly into his eye. Her quivering, shivering chest and frame couldn’t handle any more liquid. Just splat her already. And judging by the way a new fire illuminated the horizon of his face, it was coming soon.

Whatever he was saying… whatever unremitting castigation she was to endure, she couldn’t comprehend. The only thing blurrier than her eyesight was her ears. Everything sounded… unusually waterlogged. She could hear the liquid still sloshing about, drowning her every thought. Even when he shook her, demanding her attention, she couldn’t relinquish such a waning currency. Wary eyes drifted to a complete close, flickering open every now and then, before clarity rashly smacked her into consciousness for a second longer.

      ❝Guess we’re done here. Don’t let me catch you sneaking in here again, squib.❞

Weightlessly, her body was launched into the shimmering teal liquid of the resort. She hardly put up a fight. Her soul left her easily as the referee ended the match with the fish on the pedestal.

      How many years had it been since that fateful day? It felt all so recent, albeit her brain was the culprit for that. That memory, those feelings, her hatred… it flooded her like the water she had been tossed into.

Amidst the idle conversation of competitors, her brows lower in their eerie tranquility. Out went the lights that defined her pupils. Slowly, her own misery lacerates a small opening betwixt her lips. Nia’s jubilant chuckles preceded a few pats along her shoulder. Speech bounced off her ears, the reminiscent liquid choking their only entry points.

      ❝Oh, you’ve played with Bonbon before?❞

      ❝Holy—yeah, ha ha. I did. She might not remember me; she looked like she just managed her human form then. Woo. She actually S+ now?❞

      ❝Yeah, dude. C'mon! She’s older than that, y'know! Isn’t that right, Bonnie?❞

Laughter was hard to parse, even when the chill of her friend’s chortles usually calmed her. All she could hear was his, and time had hardly molded his pitch into anything more than a turbulent storm. Her smile was motionless. Nia’s face folded tightly in her doubt. Narrowed eyes questioned Bonbon’s stability, but the signal for their dispersal resounded abruptly. Time for them to get ready.

Roll-out was normal. Rush to the center of Kelp Dome, as always. Jump on the Zone. Bonbon and Nia assisted one another, while the fellow twin squad went their separate ways. Once enough lines were made for Nia’s advance, Bon took her leave… into the enemy base. Squints of skepticism tightened the Carbon’s face. Her feelings of dismay didn’t leave her, but she would have to trust that Bon knew what she was doing. It would be strange to fight without her assistance, but… she would make due. Away she went.

The looming threat of a Charger slinking into enemy territory was disregarded with ease. The enemy team’s rationale was sound—if they didn’t see the E-Liter on its perch, it was safe to say they were down. Why would they ever attempt to flank in such a risky map, where the only good perch they could take was always in enemy sight? Accounting for the more unusual cases was more effort than need be.

It was dreadfully unfortunate that, for once, such caution would have been appreciated.

Patience was a virtue she was always proud to harbor, for it always came to fruition no matter the circumstance. Squid after squid, respawn after respawn, her team did efficiently without her. She was not splatting anyone—something that she’d surely have to apologize for in the long run—but Nia was always good with locking people out once she was set up. She knew her darling well.

Self-restraint rewarded itself with a glimpse of her target. As he was falling from the ledge of spawn, she stepped forward. For a moment, he merely batted an eye, mistaking her in his haste for their own charger, but the contact of a gas tank along his cranium was enough to garner second thoughts.

The splash of his collapse into his own ink went unheard, overlapped by the disheveling sound of blunt force trauma. He could feel his skull shivering from the blow. A struggling arm shakily bolstered his weight, legs sprawled out before him as a bowed head underwent fervid rubs.

      ❝H-Hey, man, what’re you—hold up. You’re not—❞

From this angle, her shadow engulfed his slumped person, extended only by the weapon being incorrectly held up high by the barrel.

      ❝I do remember you. Oh, my love, how could I ever forget.❞

Wide eyes took in a gaze that easily beat his through sheer loathing alone. Quickly, he curls into himself, protecting his head from more hits. Thankful was he, if only because her target was more general—she whacked away at the center of his being, further disheveling a queasy stomach. Oh, how melodious his cries were! T’was like the gentle brush of practiced fingers down the keys of a piano. Perhaps, if she could ponder a song, she could align his torment into a harmony. She loved a good hymn, after all.

So then why? Why was her baton stopped prematurely? She was not done conducting, even if the squid she drummed upon had long become quiet and unresponsive.

Her body, rigid and tense, retains its inflexibility as her head nigh creaks to gaze at the interloper.

—Nia.

     ❝Bonbon, what… what are you doing? I’ve been—❞

Narrowed eyes interrogate the flickering stars they gazed into. Black fought against white, aptly appearing like… static. Even the radio silence she received was reminiscent of a screen devoid of broadcast. Furrowed brows lightened up in their shock, similar to her grip on the tank of the E-Liter. In that moment, the beast turned back, preparing another swing on their foe. Nia proved, as always, to be faster to the draw with her Carbon.

Up rose the enemy squid’s soul. He’d be back. Refreshed from his agony, albeit the memory that it accompanied was not one to be displaced. A sigh of relief contrasted deeply with Bon’s guttural growl. Nia would get to her feet, turning to placate her friend, only to gasp as a swing is hastily dodged. Clarification that they were on the same team did nothing—the sniper seemed dead set on taking another blow out on someone else.

Her Carbon becomes, for the first time, a defensive tool. A few swings aimed for her head are deflected by the roller, until the last attempt ends in the charger finally being launched from Bon’s hands. That alone doesn’t seem to hinder the onslaught, for the monster leaps at her with both hands outstretched.

All Nia does is raise her arms defensively, her face scrunching up in anticipation, but no contact is made. Slowly, eyes that clenched in preparation open, watching as two referees pinned the rabid Inkling down by her arms. Nia’s breathing is deep, her chest heaving to its maximum incline compared to Bon’s faster inhalations, accompanied by loud wheezes and hisses. The only thing to describe the display… was animalistic. It was unrefined, a word she’d never think would go in conjunction with the prissy princess. And yet, there she was, baring fangs whilst struggling in their grip with all of her might. A third referee intervenes upon request when it comes to light that even her petite form required another hold on her feet.

Amidst her gurgled screams were choked laughs and sobs. Their pitch was eerily high, unlike her natural titters, and frequently interrupted by more hasty huffs. Streaks of black melted down her ‘mask’, trailing her round cheeks and soiling the static-heavy lights of her bio-luminescence. The ink that coated her gear was not from the way they bodily brought her to the ground, but the actions that she had partook in moments before her demise. Nia’s eyes fell to a close, turning her head away as they escorted the child off the field. Her lip undergoes a light gnawing treatment as the other contestants make their way over to where the incident took place.

Their inquiries go unanswered. It was impossible to convey what she herself hardly understood.