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“A Splattershot? Really?” Thanos turns the weapon in his fingers, examining it with a look of exasperation. “That’s so boring. Do you seriously use this on the regular? If we’re going to be teammates, you should use something cooler than a tiny gun like this…”
It’s been one week since the incident. Seven days. One hundred and sixty eight hours. Not a very long time, in the grand scheme of things.
Nam-gyu thinks he might be losing his mind.
“It’s a Splattershot Nova,” Nam-gyu grits out, stomping over to rip his very expensive and very well-maintained weapon from Thanos’ hands. Nam-gyu has let him stay with him for one week, and all the guy has done is walk around the apartment like he owns the place. “Does this seriously look like a regular Splattershot to you? Come on, man, it looks completely different–”
“Whaaatever,” Thanos waves him off, squinting at the weapon with blatant disappointment. He draws the word out for an awkwardly long amount of time, like he’s testing his voice along the vowels, unaccustomed to the usage. Likely because he is—Thanos has made a point to tell Nam-gyu over and over that he’s still in the process of learning Inkling language. All things considered, he’s adapting rather quickly. His voice falters and cracks along certain words, and sometimes Nam-gyu has to ask him to repeat himself, but it’s all good. Thanos has supposedly been preparing for this for a while, after all. “It’s just so lame.”
“Yeah, because an Octobrush is so much better,” Nam-gyu seethes. “I’m sure you look like a real pro, flailing a huge brush around like a moron.”
“I am a pro.” Thanos scowls.
Nam-gyu heaves a sigh. He can’t exactly argue with that—he’s seen how Thanos holds himself in battle firsthand, and the wannabe rapper definitely knows what he’s doing. A little too overzealous at times, sure, but he’s got skill. He’ll make a good teammate, and Nam-gyu is in desperate need of talented players…which is exactly how he wound up in this situation to begin with.
It’s all because of the incident. Otherwise known as the catastrophic event that opened up a massive change in Nam-gyu’s life; an Octoling crawling his way out of a sewer drain right outside Nam-gyu’s shabby apartment.
When he first saw it, he thought he was hallucinating. People don’t just pop out of sewers on the regular, after all. Nam-gyu never paid much attention in history class, but he remembers the hushed rumors of an Octarian army, hidden away and set on wrecking havoc on the poor and completely innocent Inklings.
Poor and completely innocent…hmm. Seems a little farfetched.
Nam-gyu had been on his way to a ranked match, praying to the Great Zapfish above that whatever teammates he’d be paired with would at the very least be tolerable, and then nearly jumped out of his skin when a nearby manhole slammed open.
With a very dramatic flair, out popped Thanos with a brush under his arm and eyes wide with fascination, looking up at the sky as if he’d never seen it before. Because, as Nam-gyu soon discovered, he hadn’t.
Looking back on things…was it a smart decision for Nam-gyu to have a long winded conversation with a stranger (“why the fuck are you in the sewers, dude?”), and then invite him over to his apartment the day of? No. Hell no. But Thanos had looked so enamored with everything around him, exceptionally curious of every object that entered his sight. He’d gone on and on about how he had to “kick some serious ass” to get to the surface, and then he’d looked at Nam-gyu with wide eyes, eyes so vastly different from Nam-gyu’s own. And, well…the curiosity was matched tenfold.
The media has never painted Octolings in a very good light. It’s been a touchy subject these past few years, with more Octolings slowly weaving their way into the public eye. It’s been ingrained within Inkling society that Octolings are something to be feared, and now that people are beginning to realize the mistruth of such a statement, there’s been an upheaval of conflicting emotions.
Thanos isn’t someone to be feared. He’s just like the rest of them; passionate, wishful, and desperate for recognition. In the short amount of time Thanos has been staying with him, he’s talked excessively about his time spent underground in the Deep Sea Metro, about how he ran away from the Octarian army and made it his mission to make his way to the surface. Nam-gyu had made an offhand joke that Thanos could pay rent via stories from his life down below instead of actual money. Thanos has taken it very literally.
“I pictured you using something cool, like one of those huge snipers with the scopes.” Thanos mimics looking through a scope lens, grinning in the face of Nam-gyu’s irritation. “Or, maybe a Splatana! That’d be way more menacing, Ink-gyu–”
“It’s Nam-gyu.”
“Ink-gyu suits you more,” Thanos insists. “You’re the first Inkling I ever met, you know. It’s kind of funny seeing you guys up close. Way different than seeing pictures in old magazines.”
“What’s that mean?” Nam-gyu squints. “We’re not that different.”
Thanos leans in closely, which Nam-gyu has come to realize he has a frequent tendency to do. Personal space seems nonexistent to him.
They hold each other's stares for a long, drawn out moment, and then Thanos jams his finger in the middle of Nam-gyu’s eyes, snickering as he flails backwards in response. “Your eyes. They’re so different from mine!”
Nam-gyu rubs the bridge of his nose self-consciously, flustering as Thanos moves one hand to prod at his hair, and the other to pull on his ear. “Your hair, too. And, your ears are so pointy!”
“Okay, dude,” Nam-gyu swats him away, hoping his face isn’t as glaringly bright as it feels. “My ears aren’t pointy, yours are just round.”
“Ice versa, dumbass.”
“It’s vice versa.”
Thanos pulls a face of disbelief. “Are you sure, Ink-gyu…? I’m starting to doubt your supposed expertise of all things surface-like, after seeing that shitty weapon.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nam-gyu grumbles, cursing himself for acting all high-and-mighty during their first meeting, going on about how he knows everything there is to know about Inkling culture. He only wanted to feel superior for a moment…now look where’s landed. “You’re the one who suggested we become teammates, so if you’re going to complain about my choice of weaponry, then find some other Inkling to mooch off of.”
“I’m only kidding, my boy, don’t get so worked up,” Thanos snorts, striding towards the kitchen as Nam-gyu stumbles to keep up with him. “I still haven’t seen you in action, you know. I showed you my brush skills, so when are you gonna show me what you can do with that gun, huh?”
“I’ve been busy accommodating you,” Nam-gyu mumbles, watching as Thanos grabs a can of soda from the fridge, fiddling with the tab as he tries to open it. “You spent your whole first day here gawking at the sky. It didn’t seem right to drag you off to watch me shoot some stupid target in a training room just to ‘display my skills’, or whatever.”
“Right, but on my second day here that’s exactly what you made me do.” Thanos raises an eyebrow.
Nam-gyu winces. He’d wanted to make sure he was teaming up with someone actually capable, that’s all! “Well…yeah, but-“
“It’s your turn!” Thanos cracks the soda open, liquid fizzing to the top in a flurry of bubbles, but not spilling over completely. “I’ve made it clear that I’m a worthy teammate. Now I want to see your skills.”
Thanos slurps his soda loudly, with no manners whatsoever, and Nam-gyu leans against the nearby countertop with a sigh. “Alright, alright. I’ll join a turf match later and you can spectate it, okay?”
“If you suck, Ink-gyu, I’ll have to find another teammate.”
“It’s Nam—“
“The Thanos World only allows the best of the best,” Thanos insists, wagging his finger chidingly. “If I’m going to become the greatest rapper in the Splatlands, I can’t be partnering up with newbies.”
Nam-gyu nods hastily. Over the past few days, Thanos has rambled endlessly about his grand plans to become the most famous rapper in all of Inkling and Octoling history. Very ambitious! Nam-gyu thinks he’s a little overzealous, to put it lightly, but the guy really does have a great voice…who knows? Maybe his dreams will come to fruition. And when they do, Nam-gyu would like to be right beside him as a necessary sidekick.
“I’m not religious, or anything,” Thanos had said a few days ago, walking alongside Nam-gyu as he led him down winding alleyways, pointing at scrawled graffiti and vibrantly colored shops. “But, maybe it was fate for us to meet like this. I have my own personal tour guide!”
(Nam-gyu had proceeded to call him sappy, which resulted in Thanos elbowing him in the stomach.)
“Do you want to march down to the training grounds right now?” Nam-gyu complains, voice pitching into a whine. “It’s so early, man…”
Thanos’ eyes crinkle with amusement, glittering as he gives him a toothy grin. “Are you scared of using your tiny gun?”
“It’s not tiny!” Nam-gyu gripes. “And, for the record, this isn’t the only weapon I use. I’m versatile."
“Is that right?” Thanos raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “What’s another weapon you favor, huh? Don’t tell me it’s one of those dumbass, flimsy recycled brellas. I’ll have to kick you out of this partnership if it is, Ink-gyu. For real.”
What’s wrong with brellas?! “I’m good with tri-stringers. Some of the blasters, too.”
“The super cool blasters with the flame decals?!” Thanos asks excitedly.
“Uh…no, not those ones. The clam blasters—“
“The ones with the crayons?!” Thanos throws his hands up in defeat. “Oh, Ink-gyu. You’re a total lost cause.”
“Nam-gyu-“
“When we get photographed and put on the cover of magazines for being the best turf battlers and ranked players to grace the surface, do you really want to be holding onto a weapon made out of crayons? And, how do you even pose with a tri-stringer?”
“It’s not rocket science, dude,” Nam-gyu scoffs. “Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself?”
“I’ll be posing with my Octobrush, leaning up on it all cool-like…” Thanos nods sagely. “Or, maybe my Nozzlenose—“
“Nozzlenose?!” Nam-gyu shrieks, delighting as Thanos’ face turns just as purple as his tentacles. “You use a Nozzlenose?!”
“I use the cool one,” Thanos supplies quickly, “with the spiky thing—“
“Holy shit, dude. You just lost all ability to ever insult my weapons again. Seriously.”
“Whatever,” Thanos grumbles. “A Nozzlenose is way better than a Splattershot.”
“Splattershot Nova,” Nam-gyu corrects, grabbing the weapon and hauling it under his shoulder. “Come on, then. And, quit taking all the soda from my fridge!”
“Our fridge,” Thanos corrects with an impish grin. “Right?”
“…Right.”
— — —
“You really like those point sensors, huh?” Thanos teases after watching a particularly hasty match, in which Nam-gyu performed spectacularly. As spectacularly as he could with teammates who seemed intent on slowing him down, at least.
…Okay, okay. It was a decent showing at best.
“No shit. It’s helpful to see where people are.”
“Very analytical of you, Ink-gyu,” Thanos says, and Nam-gyu settles on a fierce glare instead of verbal correction. “I’m one lucky Octoling to have run into you in that alleyway, huh?”
The words are doused in sarcasm, but there’s a glint to Thanos’ eyes that makes Nam-gyu hope that the words hold some semblance of truth. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll help you with your career and your battle record, all while giving you a roof over your head. You're welcome.”
“And I’ll help you by getting you famous along with me!” Thanos boasts confidently. “We’re going to be legends, Ink-gyu.”
Nam-gyu fails to see how they’ll ever be legends if Thanos can’t even get his name right, but he keeps his mouth shut. Thanos is fixated on the prospect of fame, and has been ever since he first stepped foot on the surface. After hearing about how things down in the Deep Sea Metro are looking, Nam-gyu doesn’t have it in him to crush his dreams—Thanos may be the most egotistical cephalopod he’s ever met, but it’s clear he’s been through a lot.
(“Down there, they called me Su-bong…don’t call me that, okay? I hate how they treated me down there. Up here, I’m Thanos. The legend, the great!”
“Thanos? Why that, of all names?”
“…I saw it in a comic book.”)
Thanos peers up at the sky again, squinting at the sun before turning back to Nam-gyu. “You’d look cooler with one of those Heavy Splatlings—“
“Dude, come on—“
“But!” Thanos holds up his finger chidingly. “You’re a good fighter. I’ll let you stick with me.”
The nerve of this guy! Nam-gyu is the one letting Thanos stick with him, not the other way around!
“We’re going to rule this whole damn place, Ink-gyu. The most famous idols ever!” His voice, distinctly deeper than Nam-gyu’s, warbles with excitement.
“Nam.”
“Okay, okay, Nam-gyu,” Thanos coos, slinging his arm around his shoulders and jostling him wildly. “You ready to handle the great legend Thanos?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Nam-gyu smiles despite himself. “I’m ready.”