Talk: Inkling Boy
As her heart slowed its frantic rhythm, Alga relaxed some against her seat and spoke quietly over the loud thrum of the train's engine.
"That...was me, yeah. How come...?"
Did he just glup audibly? He turned to actually make eye contact with Alga, but failed. His head was turned in her direction, but he kept looking at the ground.
"I, just um," he began, eloquently, "I just wanted to say that you play really well and I... yeah, I just don't, um, nevermind."
"Um, thanks..." It certainly didn't sound too sincere, but Alga meant it. It wasn't often she got compliments, and though they did precious little to bring up her confidence, she appreciated them.
She looked down and off to the side, bringing her guitar case a bit closer when it showed signs of beginning to tip. Should she say something? What to say, though…
The boy noticed when she readjusted her case and it seemed like he wanted to say something. A moment later, it became clear her did because he finally blurted out, "um, what type is it?"
"Type? Ah... It's, um, a custom Krak-on DX85..." A rather rare guitar made by Krak-on, it held a deep tenor in each of its chords suited for her type of taste in music, and was of a high quality one usually couldn't find just anywhere. It was something her father had helped in getting her, and something the both of them had tuned and customized for her needs, and she cherished it as her most prized possession.
"Um..." Alga started tentatively, glancing at him with curiosity in her gaze. "How come?"
"I just... well, I sort of was really, uh, just I'm well..." he kept tripping on his words. "I well, I wanted to know more because it sounded good. I just... I'm not really good at much and I thought that maybe you could, if it's not too much trouble um."
He seemed to be darting around a point that he wanted to get to, but never actually hit it. It was almost as if it was physically painful for him to say the words "I, um, teach... would you teach me? I want to be able, to, um, able to make, uh... nevermind."
That was...unexpected. Staring, Alga opened her mouth as though to give a reply, only to shut it a moment later in indecision. Teach him? To play guitar? Her? But...
"Why?"
The word slipped from her mouth before she could stop herself, and Alga winced noticeably as she hastened to elaborate, "I-I mean! J-Just... Why me? I-I'm sure there others who would gladly h-help... Even guitar stores give l-lessons..."
"Stores do? Um, I would, uh, just, uh. What is a store?" He nervously began rubbing at one of his loose-hanging tentacles and quickly seemed to think better of it. Where he had been rubbing, his tentacle seemed to have gone from a bright red to a paler pink and on his hand was a crimson powder.
"I um... I just wanted to learn. That's all. Um..." This whole time, he'd managed to completely avoid eye contact with Alga.
"...You don't...know what a store is?" Unable to help it, Alga sat up straighter, brow furrowed as she took the shy Inkling in. "I'm sorry, but...? Stores are those places that you buy stuff in, like...clothes and food. Lots of that sort of thing..." Maybe he just had a different name for them...?
He seemed to be getting more and more confused by the minute. "Store? Buy... um? I'm not quite sure I, uh... um..." He started fingering the same tentacle nervously; this time, he didn't seem to even notice that he shouldn't have. The pink changed to cream as he kept rubbing. "I, um, I need to get off!" The next stop came and he stood up quickly, about to leave.
She caught the movement of his hand and narrowed her gaze in on his tentacle as he stood. Her heart lurched in its chest as she took in the color, frantically she stood, reaching out to grasp at his arm on impulse. "Wait, wait!! Hold on, just...! Are you sure you need to leave...?" He was like her, he was like her...!
At the sound of someone yelling, he seemed to stand straight up and obey. He stopped. "Um, I, yes. No? I don't. I do, kind of! I..." The door to the train closed and he walked back to his seat. He sighed. Without any transition, he said, "I... I just... music is nice. I want to learn. That's all."
"I'd never heard someone play a guitar like that. N-never actually seen someone play before. I just... I want to learn to play."
As her heart calmed, Alga flopped back onto the seat in an open display of something akin to exhaustion, letting him go and staring hard at the bit of his tentacle colored so differently from the rest of his head. His words just barely managed to register, and she debated on whether to go along with his choice of topic or to remark upon the odd little color now showing itself against the red. If he got scared, she would understand, but she could show him her own color... But...
Then, an idea occurred, and she sighed. "I'll...I'll think about it. But, you gotta tell me something. Okay?"
"Um? Kay?" He quickly responded. "What?"
She hesitated, biting her lip and glancing to the side, before taking a breath and asking, "Is that... that color there, on your tentacle... I-Is it real?"
"Huh? Yeah? Why?" He didn't seem too bugged by cream color of his tentacle that was becoming more and more apparent the more he rubbed it.
"I was just...wondering. That's all..." Still, Alga couldn't quit staring at the sight. Someone like her... She'd never thought a day like this would come, truthfully.
That’s when the automated system called Alga’s name. She wanted to know more about the inkling and his ink color, why he powdered his tentacles when he didn’t seem to care, why he didn’t seem to know about his ink color. But then she would miss her stop and the full rotation around the station took a long time as did waiting for another train.
She was about to get off when the other inkling said, “w-wait! Aren’t you, um, teach... me…” he pittered off near the end. And Alga felt a little bad just leaving him there, but there was only maybe a few seconds; wait how to get ahold of him again!
“I’ll... think about it. Where can I find you again?”
“Oh, um. Here.” He pointed at the seat he was in and with an odd look, Alga hopped off the train just as the door closed.