Max ==> Talk: the Cap'n
“Speaking of Jax’s friends… sir,” Max pried, “you… haven’t seen them around… have you?”
"Why, not since I saw ya downstairs not five minutes ago!" The Cap'n replied, chipper. "I figured ya were havin' a nice, sportin' chat, considerin' the time it was takin' ya to come up 'n' meet with Jax and me."
The old man played with his beard as he continued. "Why, I'm surprised ya missed Jax. He came down to meet ya both!"
Immediately, Max's eyes widened. That smarmy Inkling had been in the building the whole time...?!
"Don't know how I missed him, either." He glared towards the door to the hallway. At least now he knew why the ink-speck had disappeared.
He glanced between the Cap'n, then the door, and with another quiet shuffle, shifted toward the exit.
"Well, I should probably tell Jax that I'm here," he half-muttered, covering his malice with a forced grin, "Very nice to meet you, sir. "
"Ah, ya can't leave yet!" The cap'n said, moving surprisingly fast and grabbing Max by the shoulder. "Why, I haven't even gotten to tell ya about our business proposition for you! Ya remind me of meself when I was younger m'boy! All fire and passion, ohoho!" The last part was said in a tone that seemed silly, but the words were too pressing to ignore.
Their odd tone made for a perfect lead-in for the cap'n's next question: "boy, what do ya fight for?" No longer did the captain lace his words with frivolity. All the seriousness and superiority that Max had imagined for a captain of the Squidbeak Splatoon had somehow unearthed itself. The change was startling.
"I... Wha-..." Normally, Max had his heroic speeches rehearsed, but the sudden change in the Cap'n's demeanor left him balking at his own answer. He... he reminded the Cap'n of himself? The Cap'n... saw him as a hero? A real hero, like one who had fought on the front lines of battle, rushing grit-stained through the midst of enemy fire, their wounded comrades slung over their tired shoulders....
He... he was dreaming. He must've been dreaming. Was he dreaming? Shell, he had to be dreaming...
"I-I-I..."
In the blur of the situation, the roller in Max's hands slipped to his side, and he stood, mouth agape, the pupils of his eyes quivered. This... was real. This wasn't a dream.
So why the shell was he taking so much time to give an answer?!
"I fight for the people of Inkopolis, sir!" In an instant, Max broke from his trance, shouting with deafening confidence the speech he'd been itching to proclaim, "Defending them against crime and invasion, delivering them from the shadows that thrive underneath the city. I'm their protector, the Great Hero of Inkopolis!"
"Good, m'boy," the captain said. "The people never will understand. We're under constant danger! The Octolings could attack at any second. And who's ready?" The old inkling, stared deep into Max's eyes. "No one, m'boy! Not a one! Not even you, nor me! Not Jax, or his friend. Nobody!"
He let his grip release on Max, beginning to pace. "The difference is, that we know we aren't ready... we can only prepare for the oncoming tides of war to wax again!" Though the words were dramatic, the tone that the captain took was dead serious.
"We can't afford this kind of infighting," he continued. "What was your name, m'boy?"
"Max-i-mill-ian di Re, sir!" He saluted with all the gusto of an old-war hero, pausing on every syllable of his name for dramatic emphasis. His whole body shook with righteous fervor, all his anger redirected at the sound of his old enemy.
"Those damn creatures..." he waxed into a well-worn monologue, fury seeping into every word, "We drove them into the ground, crushed their rebellion into the dust, and yet, here they are again. Leaking. Crawling out of the confines of their prison and into the minds of the people."
The more Max spoke, the shakier his voice became, and his eyes, darting as wildly as his words, stared past the ground and into his thoughts. "They've corrupted them, damaged them... and now they've resolved to taking them. First the Squid Sisters, then the rest of those working on the plaza... standing in plain view, they've destroyed the lives of so many innocent civilians, and no one -- no one -- has done anything to stop them. No one but me." Breaking from his trance, he looked up toward the Cap'n, "...And you too, sir."
With a slam of his Dynamo and a sudden grin on his face, he broke out into a fit of excitement. "Is that what this proposal is about? That you've been tracking them, keeping watch, waiting for your chance to tear down their campaign. That's what it is, right? Crushing them. Freeing the people from the shackles of their shadows. That's what it is, isn't it? Isn't it?
"No, m'boy, I'm too old and frail now to embark on such a task," the captain said, sighing sadly. "That is why I have began to collect agents so that they may carry out my legacy and protect Inkopolis!"
The old man began pacing. It looked weird, considering his bamboozler-cane, as he hobbled around back and forth, but to Max, his air of command was complete. "Beginning with my dear, dear granddaughters, I started to train up agents! Defenders of Inkopolis, if you will. Jax, is Agent 3. I want you to be Agent 4."
"But..." the old man added, his ton growing sadder by the second, "my proposal, unfortunately, dear boy, is a sadder, more selfish one. My granddaughters, the very squid sisters ya mentioned before... they're missin'. I know you've been doin' all you can to help in searchin'. I want nothin' more than to see my little squiddies again..."
"W-wait a minute..." Max froze, wide-eyed, the Dynamo dropping to his side. "The Squid Sisters are your-?! ...Jax is-?!"
He stared, stunned, at the ground, momentarily remembering his anger in the excitement. The weird interviews. The high-level combat training Jax had. That fryin' battle in the Ink Tower. All this time he'd thought it was because of some underlying Deepview agenda. And yet, here the Cap'n was, calling Jax an agent. A vigilante. A fryin' hero.
With an internal growl, Max clenched a fist at his side. Him, working with Jax under Cap'n Cuttlefish? Hah. Like shell would he share his glory with that pompous know-it-all. ...And yet, here the Cap'n was, begging for Max's help. He was a victim in this, just like he was. How could a hero like Max deny a request like that?
Quietly, Max wandered over to the Cap'n and placed a hand on his shoulder, a bright, honest smile forming on his face. "Heh, I wouldn't say that's selfish," he consoled, chuckling with rare earnestness, "They're your grandkids, y'know? Any family would-"
He stopped mid-sentence, frowning. "... A lot of families would've done the same thing."
Leaning up from the Cap'n, he threw his Dynamo over his shoulder, beaming with an air of boldness and determination. "You've found the right soldier for the job, sir! I'll take that position, and find the Squid Sisters for you!"
He smashed a fist into his free hand. "...And I'll splatter the damn Octolings that took them."
"I trust ya will m'boy," Cuttlefish said, smiling. "I trust ya will." He receded back to his other persona--leaving the hanging question of whether it was real or an act--and he announced, "now, could ya help me with these crabby cakes! I fear if we don't take them out of the oven soon, they'll burn!"
The coffee, too, appeared to be finished, the coffeemaker filling the room with a rich aroma of roasted beans, adding to the warm atmosphere.
Max and the captain pulled the tray out of the oven, setting it on a cozy on a table in the center of the room. Cutting one free, Cuttlefish set the piping biscuit onto a plate to cool. Hobbling to the coffee machine he asked, "how do ya like your coffee, m'boy? Oh my, do ya even like coffee? I believe asking that slipped my mind! Comes with old age."
"Coffee's... alright." He muttered unconvincingly, setting his roller to the side. "I can work with whatever you have. I usually just... fill it out with creamer, anyway."
Crinkling his nose at the coffeemaker, he added, "Of course, you... wouldn't happen to have anything else lying around, would you, sir?"
"Jax tends to prefer tea, so he keeps leaves around," Cuttlefish said, his mug filled with the blackest coffee Max had ever seen. "But you'll need to boil some water yourself--there's a kettle in the top cabinet. On the far left."
"Tea." Max grumbled disappointedly, "Of course." Still, anything was better than whatever black tar the Cap'n was currently drinking.
With a sigh he tossed open the cupboard and popped the kettle out. "Y'know, speaking of him, sir," he started, filling the pot with water and setting it to boil, "When did Jax start working with you as an Agent?"
"Ahh..." the captain began, dragging the word out. "Time seems to be draggin' out with my old age. Hmmm... a year? Two years? M'boy I can't say for certain. For me it seems only a month ago!"
The captain took a bite of a crabcake, and a swig of the coffee--both of which appeared to be piping hot, but the old Inkling didn't so much as bat an eye as the scalding refreshments entered his mouth. Truly a man of steel.
"And when did you come to your calling as a defender?" the cap'n said between bites. "Jax has told me about your exploits... you've been busy despite your young age! Oho!"
With a frown, Max rifled through the collection of tea leaves sitting on the counter, the pot of water boiling softly behind him. His expression carried a look of obvious disappointment, though it was unclear whether it was due to the Cap'n's statement or to the tea in question.
"Three years," he said, picking out some oddly-colored bag from the set with a bit of hesitation, "Maybe a bit more. Though the first few months of it was mostly just me and my old squad claiming the streets." A small grin crept onto his face, and his eyes flickered with nostalgia. "Heh, you wouldn't believe the kind of street scum we ran into back then. Thieves, street squads... shell, I once had a couple of my guys get themselves locked in an old water tower by a mark. Had to knock the whole thing down just to get 'em out."
He chuckled a bit at the memory until, as if finally recognizing some fact, he fell into a sudden silence.
"...Jax's been talkin' about me, huh." The boiling water simmered softly behind him. "Hmph, what kind of exploits was he talkin' about?"
"Your heroic exploits, of course!" The cap'n exclaimed, excited. "Jax, ol'boy, is simply the bees knees at finding out the oddest things! He told me that you and your squad took on twice your numbers and came out fighting... on top even!"
The captain took a hearty swig of coffee and bit into a biscuit as he said, "that takes come scruff m'boy!" Crumbs flew everywhere as he exclaimed. His beard was simply covered in them.
"Why, I'd say my favorite was when he told me you were trackin' this gang! ...the name escapes me... however! You'd been combing the streets for clues, asking anybody you could about their whereabouts, their hideout, and what-have-you. Of course, that means that you left a huge trail for Jax to follow... not that any of my agents would stop a hero of justice like yourself.
"But after you knew what you needed to know, it was too late to call your mates... so you went alone, not wanting to miss your opportunity. You crashed their party ol' boy! Or, so Jax tells me, anyway!" The old Inkling laughed.
"Reminds me of the war, dear boy," the captain said, reminiscing. "There were some real heroes. You were born in the wrong time... the wrong time... but the right time for this, I think! The world always needs heroes like yourself!"
"Heh, you're telling me, sir." Max's eyes gleamed with earnest pride. "Trying to find another hero around here is like finding a pearl in a kelp forest."
He snatched a mug from the counter, grinning at the memory. "Man... that gang he mentioned... he was talkin' about Shoreline, I bet. Heh, those guys were quiet. Kept their business to a few trusted circles, made sure their mooks never knew the schedule beforehand. Planned for every little thing they possibly could. Well, everything but me," he poured himself a mug, chucking, "and that old sky-pane over their meeting room."
He fell into silence for a moment, swirling the bag of tea in his mug.
"...He did get one thing wrong, though. I didn't try to call my squad. Thing was... I didn't have one. Haven't had a crew since... well, since we disbanded two years back."
With a sigh, he leaned on the edge of the counter, staring into the glass with quiet thought. "The world needs heroes, alright. The fact is, heroes are a dying breed. Only a few of 'em ever hear that call to greatness, but the rest... they get lost. Corrupted."
In some bout of thought, he slammed the mug on the counter. "Not like that fryin' know-it-all would understand."
"Which know-it-all?" The cap'n laughed. "I've known a lot of them in my day! Ohoho!"
"...Tch." Max took a sip of the tea, only to immediately spit it into the sink with an outcry of "THE SHELL IS THIS FRYIN'-" and reach frantically for a container of sugar. The poor drink didn't stand a chance; by the time Max was finished with it, the container was near-empty, and the tea resembled a slush more than an actual beverage.
"Nuugh..." Not even sugar could save a poison like that.
With a bit of hesitation, he tried another sip, and, nodding that it was tolerable, set the glass down beside him. "Hmph.." he sighed, "Seems like Jax's done about research." He paused, thinking. "What about him? His exploits, I mean. I'm sure he's told you some interesting stories."
"Why I guided him through some of them myself!" The cap'n said, proud. "Taught him so much..." there was a glint of a tear in his eye.
"His first major campaign, I had him pit up against the whole of the Octarian Army! You remember when the Zapfish were going missing? Well... it turns out that was Dj Octavio, a former general of the Octarian Army ascended to leadership!
"The old Octoling had a lot of tools up his sleeve--the Great Octoweapons, to be specific--but Jax took 'em down one by one! One Inkling against the world! I had the honor to watch, coach, and train him. He is an amazing student, a faster learner and an exquisite ink battler. A prodigy by all rights! Ohoho!
"Not only that, he has his own reasons for fighting; a textbook hero that one! You both have the drive, m'boy!"
No sooner had the Cap'n finished speaking that a dull thud resounded through the room. On the counter laid the mug of sugar-tea, sideways, its contents spilled across the counter, and, standing next to it, Max, oblivious to its presence.
Normally, there'd be a spark of emotion in his eyes, a quirk of the mouth, some expression which ultimately conveyed the feeling he was intending to cover. But this time, there was nothing. No anger. No surprise. Nothing but the complete numbness that comes from hearing the incomprehensible.
Jax... was a hero?
Suddenly, every emotion Max had conveyed over the entire situation rushed to claim the shock on his face. His mouth moved to speak. The spark returned, this time in multiple forms -- rage, surprise, envy, glee.
And then, in an uncontrolled meltdown, they disappeared again, replaced by an uncharacteristic quiet.
"Well... damn." He blinked, blankly, at his own words, and, realizing that his cup has split upon reaching for it, quietly wandered over to clean up the mess.
"Yes! Jax is my pride and joy--besides my little squiddos mind! Oho!" The cap'n took a final bite of his piping hot buscuit and then, after licking the crumbs off his fingers he announced, "where is that boy anyway? He said that he was done letting you spar..."
With the Cap'ns words swept a tense silence, and Max, who'd been scrubbing diligently at the mess on the countertop, froze with a noticeable jolt. Once again, his expression moved from instinctual blankness to a slurry of mismatched emotions, as though he were trying to piece together a set of contrasting expressions. For a second, he turned toward the Cap'n, only to return to the mess without saying a word. Though his focus was pointed toward the mess, it seemed to be looking elsewhere, into some invisible thought hanging past the counter.
Finally, Max rose from where he'd working, and, still staring deeply at nothing in particular, wandered over to the trash, crumpling the paper towels he'd been using in his hands. He stared again, fiercer this time. And then, as if coming to some conclusion, he stopped in place, the crumpling motion of the paper becoming rapidly more aggressive until, with sudden rage, he slammed the trash into the can, screamed a long breath that poorly contained the anger he was trying to control.
He spun toward the Cap'n, snarling just as he had when he'd entered the room previously.
"Did he fryin' really...?"
The cap'n appeared shocked at Max's sudden reaction. "Why yes; I thought you were just having a friendly spar with the other Inkling downstairs! What was his name... hmm... Jax was telling me about him as well... frollic? Surf? Bah, whatever.
"...wasn't that what it was?" the Captain's tone shifted again, suddenly serious to match the graveness of the question.
"The shell if I know." Max leaned on the wall, running his hands through his tentacles. With another long breath, he released his grip, slowly lowered placed a fist into his free hand, and closed his eyes. He remained there, immobile, for a brief moment, until finally he returned, his anger seemingly calmer by the action.
"... Sorry. Didn't mean for that to come out that way. Me and that kid were fighting downstairs, yeah. Still are, in a way."
He paused, glaring toward the door. "As far as I know, Jax never told me what his plans were."
"Ah," the Cap'n said, calming down. "It was just a test m'boy, just a test. Drink some of your..." he looked over the mess that Max had been cleaning and finished, "never mind."
He took another sip of his coffee. "Sit down, sit down. He should be here soon; I understand you may have questions. He'll be here soon."
"Just a test, huh," Despite the respect Max had for the Cap'n, he snapped at him like he would at any other. "Yeah, a test he couldn't fryin' tell me about!"
He slammed his Dynamo into the wall. "Who the shell does he think he is?! Shell, who does he think I fryin' am? Some kind of criminal?! Shell, he couldn't even give me two damn words about why I was supposed to follow his fryin' rules, and ya know what? I fryin' trusted him. I gave what he said my own damn face. And what, after all that, he thinks he can't fryin' trust me?!"
With another angry growl, he threw the Dynamo to the side and stomped over to the table, slamming himself into an open chair. "Yeah, sure. I'll wait. Lemme see what his fryin' excuse is."
