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lyonrhodes · 6 years

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One Bad Day #7: Into the Gray

Red Hood x OC, Batman/DC Fan Fic

Summary: Dora has lived in Gotham her whole life and is accustomed to the rampant crime and corruption. Her life gets worse when Black Mask takes over the city. She thinks all hope is lost but a new vigilante appears, calling himself the Red Hood. However, he’s not your typical knight in shining armor. Dora must decide: does she dare fall in love with a revenge-driven killer? (Romance, Crime, Action)

Chapter 7: Into the Gray

The jail cell was cramped—five feet by eight, probably less; Dora couldn’t be sure. The concrete walls were a dull gray, and so were the floor, the ceiling, and the steel door sealing her in. The fluorescent lights hummed above her, obnoxiously bright, but one bulb insisted on flickering and snapping incessantly. It was driving her mad and giving her the worst headache of her life. She would have tried to rip it out of its socket if it wasn’t behind a metal grill.

So much for taking all the credit, Dora thought to herself. She massaged her temples as a bone-chilling shiver rippled throughout her body. She had never been more uncomfortable in her whole life.

She was cold, hungry, thirsty, and in pain. Her hair and clothes had dried, but she still reeked of alcohol from the thugs shooting up the liquor shelf behind the bar. The shredded hem of her stained tank top exposed her stomach and arms to the 70-degree chill circulating in the room. Her lower back ached because of the unyielding aluminum bench she was lying on. Dora knew these holding cells were purposefully constructed to ensure maximum discomfort.

Although the EMTs had cleaned and treated the burn on her hand, the pain seared every now and then as if it was still on fire. She wanted to regret making that Molotov cocktail, but she couldn’t. Without it, Carla and Holly wouldn’t have been able to escape the bar.

It had been eight hours, although she could only guess. The only way to keep track of time was the combination steel toilet/sink that automatically flushed itself about every thirty minutes. She knew because she had counted the minutes. But since then she had lost count of the flushes. She was tired and wanted to sleep, but just couldn’t for longer than twenty minutes at a time. It wasn’t the lights, or the hard bench, or the toilet flushing, or the pain in her hand. It was the recurring flashes of blood bursting from human heads that kept shaking her awake.

In particular was the man she had killed.

The bullet was too fast to see but she should easily recall a hole appearing in his cheek, his head snapping to the side, and a misty red halo behind it.

She felt sick to her stomach, not for the first time since being locked in this cell. As her stomach heaved, Dora forced herself to think of something else. Anything else.

Her mind landed on Carla.

Is she alright?

Carla had escaped the bar, but Dora didn't know if she had gotten home safe. She and Holly could have run into another group of thugs on the way. That wasn't out of the question in Park Row in the middle of the night. And if she had made it home... It broke Dora’s heart thinking about how shell-shocked Carla had been—nearly catatonic. She almost died. And she saw me kill a man. How long will it take for her to get over that? Hopefully she hasn’t talked to the police.

Bullock wouldn't give her a phone call, so the worry was killing her—along with the anxiety of how her mother was bound to react. She couldn't be bailed out even if they had the money. Montoya had tried to emphasize that she wasn't under arrest. She was being detained as a witness. Apparently in the GCPD’s messed-up way of operating, that didn't entitle her to the same basic privileges as a criminal.

A clatter came from the other side of the door. Dora sat up and popped the kinks out of her back as the door slid open with a sharp buzz. Bullock walked into the cell in a cloud of cigarette smoke. “Had enough?”

Dora wasn’t sure if she was happy to see him or not. “You interrupted my nap,” she said through a real yawn.

Bullock grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the cell. He led her out of the cell block, his grip never loosening. He was hurting her, aggravating the burn on her hand, but Dora didn't complain because he might cuff her instead.

He shoved her into an interrogation room and pushed her so hard into a chair that it nearly toppled over. Dora looked up at the camera in the corner, wondering if it was recording. Montoya entered the room as Bullock sat down at the table.

“Let's try this again.” Bullock put out his cigarette and tossed it aside.

Dora glared at him. “Okay.” Nothing had changed since before he had “detained” her—hours ago.

Montoya picked Bullock’s cigarette butt off the floor and put it in the wastebasket. “You don't have to talk to us without an attorney present.”

“Shut up, Montoya,” Bullock snapped.

“It’s her Fifth Amendment right. We have to say it.”

“No, we don’t. She’s not under arrest.”

“It's okay,” Dora said, “I don't need the Fifth. I didn't do anything wrong.” Lawyering up implied she was guilty of something—which she was, but she wasn’t about to let anyone know that.

Bullock wasted no time. “Who is he?”

“I already told you. Red Hood.”

Bullock growled. “What's his real name?”

“I don't know.” You think locking me up for however many hours would make me remember something I've never known?

“Look, kid, it isn't a coincidence that the Red Mook saved your ass twice in two weeks. We know you are tight with him. Just give us his fucking name already.”

“I don’t know who he is. Haven't you heard? The whole neighborhood around Park Row is his turf now. Isn’t it the police’s job to watch our backs, not vigilantes?”

Bullock grit his teeth. He didn’t like that slight, but chose to ignore it. “Thirty square blocks of territory, but he still managed to know when you were in trouble.”

“My bar is in the middle of Park Row. You're a cop, you of all people should know how bad it gets on that street. They call it Crime Alley for a reason, dude. Red Hood’s a vigilante, so yeah, chances are he was watching closely, especially in the middle of the night. Plus, those assholes shot up my bar for, I dunno, ten whole minutes before he even showed up—maybe a half hour before you guys finally decided to.” She wanted to go on, but bit her tongue. It’s no wonder we have half a dozen vigilantes running around the city. You guys suck at your jobs.

“Why’d they shoot up your bar for? What’d you do to piss them off?”

My little sister had some coke they wanted. “I already told you,” Dora said, rolling her eyes. “They just broke in and started shooting up the place. Maybe they wanted to rob me. They certainly wanted to kill me. They were probably False Facers, looking for payback from before.” In truth, Dora suspected they were from the Latino United gang or Escabedo Cartel. The LU were enforcers and dealers for the cartel.

“Those asshats your boyfriend killed were members of the Escabedo Cartel, not the False Face Society.”

Knew it. “What’s it matter who they work for?”

Bullock chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, you’re right, it doesn’t matter. Gangsters, pimps, judges, councilmen, CEOs... Your boyfriend kills whoever he wants. Everyone wants payback.”

“Stop calling him that!” Dora finally snapped. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

“You know what? I think he is!” Bullock stood up and slammed his fists on the table. “You’re fucking the guy, aren’t you? Why else is he always saving your ass?”

“Always?” Dora was exasperated. Bullock jumping to conclusions was infuriating. “He helped me out twice! Just two fucking times!” She held up two fingers, and wanted nothing more than to jab Bullock’s eyes to make him understand. Red Hood had saved Holly and Rochelle both twice as well, but she couldn’t mention that without implicating them.

“I’m not stupid! And neither were those men that shot up your bar! They knew you are the Red Mook’s old lady, that’s why they rained hell down on your head—to draw him out! Admit it! You’re fucking him! Tell me his name!”

“I have no idea who he is!” she shouted. “I’ve never even seen his face!” For half a second she couldn’t help but wonder what was behind his mask—and that reminded her. “The dude took one step at me, so I pepper sprayed him! I don’t like him any more than you do, so fuck off, man! I just want me and my bar to be left alone!”

Bullock pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his belt. “Come here, you lying little spic, you’re—”

“Bullock, enough!” Montoya pulled him away and slammed him into the wall. Dora was surprised. She was stronger than she looked.

“Get off of me!” Bullock shrugged her off.

“Back off the girl, Harvey, or I’ll tell Gordon you're harassing a witness.” Montoya’s deep brown eyes seemed to smolder. Dora had seen the same look in her mother’s eyes, and her sisters’. Maybe it was a Latina thing.

“She's not a witness, she's a fucking accomplice!”

“We don't know that yet.”

“It's right in front of your face, Montoya! Open your fucking eyes! We should book her now for obstructing the investigation!”

“Not without due diligence. Get out. Now.”

Bullock groaned and threw his hands up. “Fine. I'm done. I'm fucking done. I don't know why I bother. Get out of my way, I’m going home. I’m getting too old for this shit.” He shoved Montoya aside and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Montoya pinched her nose, releasing a tense sigh.

“How’d you get stuck with an asshole like that for a partner?” Dora asked. She was happier than ever for withholding the truth. Red Hood was probably right. If she had told Bullock that she had killed one of the thugs—even if it was in self-defense—he would have jumped to charge her with manslaughter, or worse.

Montoya straightened her jacket and took the seat across from Dora. “I agree with you. He’s an asshole. But he’s a good detective despite that.”

Dora scoffed, incredulous. “You don’t actually believe that—”

“Look, mija—”

“I'm not your fucking daughter.” She hated Montoya calling her that as much as she hated Bullock calling Red Hood her boyfriend.

“Sorry. Dora, look. If you don't speak up now, it could bite you in the ass later.”

“I already told you what happened. I already told you I don’t know his name, or what he looks like under that mask.”

“Okay, this guy’s real cool. I get it. He’s tall, he’s fit, he’s got a mask and can go toe-to-toe with Batman, Nightwing, even Mr. Freeze.” Montoya reached across the table and held her hand. Dora let her, but narrowed her eyes. “And he’s looking out for you more than anyone else. He’s got your back when no one else does. Dora, I know it seems like he cares about you...”

Dora pulled back her hand. “He doesn’t. I’m not...”

“... but don’t confuse his attention or your own gratitude for love—no es amor verdad...”

She couldn’t take it. Pushing off the table, she stood and ran her hands anxiously through her hair.

Montoya was wrong. Dora had no idea who Red Hood was, what he looked like, even his age. And of course, he didn’t like her that way. She didn’t like him that way either. If anything, Dora was sure she annoyed Red Hood, having to be saved all the time. He probably had things he would rather be doing than saving her butt and cleaning up her messes.

But then she remembered just how much it looked like he enjoyed beating the crap out of those thugs. How he enjoyed killing them.

Dora took a deep breath and glared at Montoya. “For the last time. I don’t know his name. I don’t know what he looks like. And I am not sleeping with him. Okay?”

Montoya steepled her fingers and studied Dora closely. “No me gusta mentiras. If you’re lying to us, Dora, when we catch him, you’ll be charged as an accessory to every crime he’s committed wearing that mask. He’s killed people, Dora, so you’ll be complicit. Do you understand what that means? You’ll be in prison for the rest of your life too. Would you really risk your freedom, ruin your life, for a guy? Por este hombre?”

Dora only glared at her. She didn’t want to say it again.

Montoya sighed. “Okay, mira. While you were in detention, I talked to the DA and he’s offered a deal. If you help us catch, we’ll give you queen for a day. You’ll be immune to everything he’s done so far. But you have to decide now.”

For a moment, Dora thought it was insulting that Montoya believed that she would let her emotions, her feelings for a man, cloud her judgment—her morality.

But with a pang, she realized that Montoya was half right. It had happened last night when she reached for a gun rather than her pepper spray. It was happening right now, she was lying to the police, denying that she had killed a man, and letting Red Hood take the blame instead.

But it didn’t matter. She didn’t have the information Montoya wanted. “Pass,” Dora finally said.

Montoya hung her head for a moment, disappointed, then nodded. “Fine.” She stood up and opened the door. “Then you’re free to go.”

Dora was halfway out when Montoya whispered, “Esta es tu última oportunidad. Espero que valga la pena.” She had said, “This is your last chance. I hope he’s worth it.”

And at that moment, Dora wished she did know Red Hood’s identity, because he probably was worth it.

悪

The door opened with a loud buzz and clank. The police officer ushered her through. “Keep your nose out of trouble, kid.”

I try, but trouble always seems to find me.

She walked out into the crowded lobby of the 99th Precinct, and was suddenly aware of how exposing her tank top was—sheer and torn, her midriff bare for everyone to see. Bullock and Montoya hadn’t given her a chance to grab her jacket when they “detained” her, let alone her phone or bag. Going back inside the bar would “contaminate the crime scene.” After hearing her story at the Alibi, Bullock had spat “Bullshit!” in her face and shoved her into a cruiser. Montoya had to convince him to wait for the EMTs to treat the burn on her hand before they drove her down to the precinct. Looking out the plate-glass doors across the lobby, Dora dreaded the nine-block walk home—then the hairs on the back of her neck rose. She could sense her coming.

Fuck.

“Dora Adela Marianela Aurelia Manuela Silva Alvarez!” Dora’s mother shouted her full name for all of Gotham to hear. The slim little woman shuffled up to her, unleashing an almost incoherent babble of Spanish. “Dios mío, dige me todo! Voy a pegarte si no le me digas la verdad... Que pasó en mi bar? Ay, pero mira... O, mi niñita... Lo siento, perdoname. Ven aquí. Dame sus brazos. Está okay?”

Dora cringed as her mother Anita pulled her into a tight hug. But unlike many times before, the cold awkward embrace became warm and welcome. Dora found herself gripping her mother tightly and burrowing into the crook of her neck. “I’m sorry, Mami. Era una noche insana... voy a dijir todo, no te preocupas.”

It was a crazy night. I’m going to tell you everything, don’t worry. But Dora knew she couldn’t share everything. She would have to give her mother the same bullshit story she had given Bullock and Montoya.

Anita frowned and made a concerned noise, fretting over the look of her. “Here, take my jacket. You can tell me everything later. I need to file a report about the bar,” her mother said. “For insurance y todo. Cuida sus hermanas.” She released Dora from another vise grip of a hug and strutted off.

Dora saw her youngest sister, Mercedes, fidgeting as she waited at the back of the room. The lobby of the 99th precinct was gray, dingy, sparsely decorated, and bustling with questionable people and intimidating cops. Carla sat next to Mercy, looking as vacant as she had the night before—like she was asleep with her eyes open. With earbuds in her ears, the environment didn’t seem to bother Carla as much as it did Mercy. The ten-year-old mumbled to herself, rocking back and forth nervously. Her eyes flickered to Dora, and she was immediately out of her seat, running to her. Dora desperately wanted to talk to Carla, but she couldn’t say no to her baby sister, especially when she was so anxious.

Mercy hesitated when she was close—Dora knew it was because of how haggard she looked, but she put a smile on her face and beckoned her to come forward. Mercy lunged forward and embraced her. Dora kissed her forehead. “I’m so sorry. I know I was gone, but I couldn’t help it. Something bad happened in Papi’s bar.”

Mercy wrinkled her nose. “You smell like him.”

Dora clenched her jaw, remembering her father’s vices. “Yeah, there was a spill.”

“What happened?”

“I was robbed. Some bad guys tried to take our money. It happens, y’know? But I was saved by—”

“Batman!” her baby sister chirped.

Dora smiled and shook her head. “No, not Batman. This guy calls himself Red Hood.”

“Oh, yeah! I’ve heard of him! Some of my friends don’t like him. They say he’s a bad guy. Apparently, he kills people... and cuts off their heads...”

“He only kills bad people,” Dora emphasized. “Men who deserve to die.” As soon as she said it, her mouth felt dry. Did she really mean that? It wasn’t something she should have told an impressionable 10-year-old girl.

Mercy’s frowned. “But Mami yells at Carla all the time for being bad! Cuz she hangs out with those bad boys who in a gang, right?” She grabbed Dora’s sleeve. “Red Hood not going to hurt Carla—is he, Dora?”

Carla’s eyes flicked in their direction at the mention of her name. She finally noticed Dora and pulled off her earbuds.

“No, he won’t hurt her,” Dora said. She held Mercy’s hand and guided her toward Carla. “Can you keep a secret?”

Mercy nodded eagerly.

“He’s... he’s my friend,” Dora said, only half-believing it was true. “And we’re good people. He won’t hurt us. He’s protecting us.”

“But he’s scary, Dora. He kills people. You’re really friends with that guy?”

Dora searched for an answer Mercy would understand, looking from her eyes to Carla’s, who was waiting anxiously. She finally said, “Sometimes, a hero has to be scarier than the monsters he fights. Sometimes that’s the only way to protect people: scaring off the bad guys. Batman is pretty scary, right? But he’s a good guy.”

Mercy frowned. “Yeah, but Batman doesn’t kill people this Red Hood guy does.”

It was as if someone struck a match with Dora’s heart. Maybe he should, she thought suddenly, inflamed. If he did, Gotham wouldn’t be harassed by the same assholes again and again.

As quickly as the thought had sparked, it was doused by the disquiet on her baby sister’s face. She probably saw the anger on her face, leaving Dora feeling ashamed and sick to her stomach again.

Carla handed Mercy her phone. “Give us a sec, please.” As the little girl went back to her seat, Carla pulled Dora aside by a vending machine. “Are you alright?”

“Are you?” Dora asked. That seemed like the imperative question. But then she realized that Carla must have been as worried as she was, if not more. Dora had been the one to stay behind in the Alibi to take on four armed thugs, not Carla. Dora looked down at her bandaged hand. “Yeah, I’m fine. How’s Holly—umph!”

Without warning, Carla hugged Dora, so hard she forced the breath out of her.

“I’m so sorry for putting you in that position, Dee,” Carla lamented. Dora could feel her tears on her shoulder. “I’m out of that crew, for good. I’ll never talk to those dudes again. Don’t... just don’t tell Mami. Please! She’ll kill me!”

Dora pushed Carla back and wiped the tears from her eyes. “What about what I did?”

Carla sniffled and tilted her head. “What do you mean? Almost burning down the bar with a Molotov? That was actually kinda badass.”

“No, I...” Dora couldn’t finish what she wanted to say—”I killed someone.”—in the middle of a police station, with her ten-year-old baby sister within earshot.

“What?” Carla asked, confused.

Does she not remember what I did? Maybe Carla had missed that part. She never saw Dora actually kill that one thug. She had been huddled under the bar, having a panic attack, trying her best to ignore the situation and will herself out of existence.

Dora pulled Carla back in and hugged her tightly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll never tell anyone you were there.” She wouldn’t. She had to keep the lies she told the cops consistent. However, she felt guilty for considering her sister’s post-traumatic memory loss a silver lining. She could take Carla to the free clinic for therapy another time, but for now she just wanted to go home, take a shower, and sleep in her own bed.

“I love you, Dora.”

“I love you too, Carla.”

As if granting her wish, their mother approached, holding Mercy’s hand. “It’s nice to see you two finally getting along. Let’s go home.”

[v0.3.15.1]

#red hood #redhood #jason todd #jasontodd #dc comics #dccomics #batman #xreader #x reader #xoc #x oc #red hood x reader #red hood x oc #jason todd x reader #jason todd x oc #fanficton #fanfic

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takokola · 7 years

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Battle of Assholes

((A splatoon fanfic, written by yours truely.))

((Featuring Arnick and Tetrox from @cafe-cardamari | @tamarinfrog))

((Taking a small break from re-drawing my OCs, how about another fanfic. Featuring Dewey and Arnick, duking it out. They're both assholes to begin with. As always, enjoy this fanfic reading.))

Arnick and Tetrox were shopping in Arowana Mall, again on a Saturday afternoon. Arnick was rather embarrassed after the visiting a women's underwear store. He doesn't want to be called a pervert, twice.

"C'mon, Nicky! Don't be such a grump!" Tetrox was snickering, while carrying her bag of purple underwear.

Arnick didn't respond to Tetrox. He was blushing, madly after he rushed out of the store. Sooner or later, he would hear whispers. Other squids might recognize him from Paradise Reef when he took a beating from a really pissed waitress.

Tetrox would cheer him up some more, but she heard a sweet melody. The music is coming from the music store in their direction. The purple octoling listened to the faint music with an intrigued expression on her face.

Arnick heard it, as well. He has good taste in classical music. From nostalgic songs from Mozart or Beethoven. He was no longer grouchy and listened some more.

"I know this tune.. Isn't that Moonlight Sonata?" Arnick asked. This song was one of Arnick's personal favorites.

"Moonlight-what now?" She turned to look at Arnick with a confused look on her face.

Arnick sighed and started to explain about this song. "It's a song, written by the name of Ludwig Van Beethoven. In human history, he's a talent composer and pianist. The legend still lives on to this day."

Tetrox was not listening to him, at the moment. Any kind of history such as humans, were very boring to her. Her face, brightened up with a toothy smiled. "C'mon, sugah! Let's get a closer look!" And with that, she grabbed Arnick's hand and towed him towards the music store. The music was getting, a bit closer. Several squids were watching the musician, playing Moonlight Sonata a electronic piano.

"T-Tetrox, hang on!" He cried, having his arm tugged away like two kids, fighting over a small toy.

The two, made to the small crowd of people in the store. Tetrox wanted to get to see the player. The person who is playing the piano was a pink inkling, sitting in front of the crowd. He was wearing a Classic Straw Boater hat and a Squidstar Waistcoat. Judging by his appearance, he's a 17 year-old high school student.

"Wow.. This kid is really talented.." He thought to himself. Arnick stared at the musician with a look of amazement. He'd admire a pianist with such great talent in music. Tetrox would share the same amazement as Arnick.

Once the song ended, everyone including Tetrox and Arnick were applauding. Tetrox was whistling, as she cheered him on.

The pink inkling seemed surprised on how, Tetrox acted towards him. He'd appreciate Tetrox's enthusiasum and bowed to the crowd. "Thank you all for listening. My talent is superb above all others, I know." He bragged.

Arnick stared at him with a blank expression on his face. He somewhat, reminds him of a certain enemy of his. The thought of Petal Splash's captain, Jonquil still disgusts Arnick to this day.

The crowd left the store, leaving Arnick and Tetrox with the pianist. Tetrox walked up to him with a grin on her face. "You play some nice music, sugah!" She complimented him.

"I'm honered to meet a new fan. What's your name, miss?" He asked. He was fixated on the octoling and not paying attention to Arnick who is standing, behind Tetrox.

"Th'name's Tetrox, sugah!" She extends an arm for him to shake. "Pleasure to meet ya!"

"Dewey. Dewey Berri." He would shake her hand, but he smooched Tetrox's hand and looked at her with a kind smile. "The pleasure is all mine."

Tetrox's eyes went wide, followed by a light shade of purple on her face. "M-My, my! Quite the gentleman, are you" She giggled, cutely.

Arnick was taken aback by the sudden approach from Dewey. It's not like, he's jealous or anything. But, it's bothersome to him.

"AHEM!!" Arnick cleared his throat to draw their attention to him. "I'd hate to interrupt, but we were just leaving." Sounding disappointed, Arnick pulled her away from Dewey.

"Nickyyy!! Don't be so ruuuude!!" Tetrox whined.

Hearing about Arnick's pet name, Dewey lets out a chuckle. "Yeah, Nicky. Lighten up."

Arnick glared at him. "The name is Arnick! Not Nicky!" He corrected him. He hated that nickname, worse than "Nice Ass". Whatever nickname it is, he still hates all of them.

"I know, who you are. You must be the Bamboozler that my team captain warned me about." Dewey leaned in further. He's very smug in person. "Tell me, Mr. Stilton. Grabbed any waitress's asses, lately?" Dewey also saw the video that Fynn showed him. It went viral for a whole year.

Tetrox couldn't help, but snicker like someone told her a really hilarious joke. Tetrox is the one who started the whole incident at Paradise Reef.

Hearing Dewey's question, Arnick was fuming. He wished, he could ignore the music store but he couldn't escape Tetrox's grasp. "Let me remind you that it WASN'T ME..!" He gritted his teeth, angrily.

Dewey seems to believe him. But the gossip is inescapable, today. "Whatever you say." Dewey shrugged. "So, what brings you two here?"

"We're just shoppin' for clothes." She still held out the bag of lady's underwear, which made Arnick blush in embarrassment. "After that, we're going to meet with Bella. Y'know, splattin' down every team in the Turf League."

Arnick cleared his throat. "Day after day, we haven't screwed up a single match." He proved his point.

"Of course, I've seen your playstyles." Dewey stepped closer to Arnick. "Especially, when you carry that dried-up plant with you. Pardon me for being blunt on other people's weapons."

"I beg your pardon?!" Arnick said, sounding very offended. "This dried-up plant is a legendary weapon! Unlike whatever weapon you use, this one is a fine work of art!"

"Unless, you have what it takes to prove me wrong." He stared at Arnick, face to face. Dewey is a bit, younger than Arnick. He'll mostly step to someone, bigger than him. "So, how about it? Wanna have a 1-on-1 duel?" He asked.

"But, where...?" Dewey pondered on which arena, they would battle at. With a snap of his finger, he got the ideal arena. "Ah, I know! How about, out there?" Dewey pointed out the outside arena in Arowana Mall. Then, he turned to Arnick. "I have to remind you, I use long-ranged weapons. You probably won't get close to me, on your own. But, it's worth a shot." He shrugged.

Arnick glared, back at Dewey. He can get closer to Dewey with his arms, tied behind his back. If he's correct, Dewey might be referring to a Charger. He stopped glaring at him. He extends a hand for Dewey to shake and he sealed the deal. "Fine, I accept your challenge. But, don't expect I'm going easy on you." Arnick still kept his unimpressed expression on his face when he looked down at him.

"Funny. I was thinking, the same thing." Dewey shook his hand, before letting go. Their faces were both in serious mode, while Tetrox was going to text Belladonna.

Standing outisde, Dewey was readying his Custom Jet Squelcher. He's going to keep Arnick at bay as best as he could. Dewey gazed into the middle. He felt a slight breeze through his tentacles.

"Who does he think he is..? Insulting such a legendary weapon... OH, the nerve..." Arnick was grumbling on the other side.

Tetrox was sitting on the spawn point. She bought some popcorn, before she went outside with him. "Well, he's not wrong. It needs some waterin'." Tetrox pointed it out, while snickering.

Arnick, quickly turned around and glared at Tetrox. His eye was twitching, slightly. "Who's side are you bloody on, anyway?!" He said, feeling more offended.

After making preparations, they were ready to battle one another. Once the referee blew the whistle, two squids except Tetrox rushed out of their spawn points.

The rules are as simple as Turf Wars but with a change. Whoever gets the most splats within 3 minutes, wins the match. Dewey made it to the middle, first. He did say, Arnick wouldn't get close to him. He covered the entire middle in pink.

Arnick was coming up from the left and spotted Dewey. "Think you can camp from me..? I'll have to teach you some ma-" As soon as he finished his sentence, Arnick was greeted by a Burst Bomb to the face from Dewey. Followed by getting shot from the distance. He burst into a puddle of pink ink, leaving his clothes and Bamboozler MK II behind.

Dewey had already predicted Arnick's approach from the side. "1 point for me, Arnick for zero." Dewey said, blowing the smoke away from the nozzle of his Custom Jet Squelcher.

Arnick rose out of the spawn point, gasping for air. He turned to look at Tetrox, who was still eating popcorn and spectating by the ledge. She saw the whole thing.

"Well, this Dewey fella ain't too bad." She used a pair of binoculars to see Dewey from afar.

"Grrrrrrr...." Arnick growled in annoyance and dusts himself off. "Fine then, Dewey. If you wanna play dirty.." Arnick held up his Bamboozler with a sinister grin. "I'm game.." He said, before heading back to the middle.

Dewey inched in closer to Arnick's territory. He made sure that he gained some distance, once Arnick heads to the middle. He'd soon notice him, before he could keep him at bay.

Arnick had been cleaver enough to strafe from Dewey attack. Even when Dewey tossed another Burst Bomb, Arnick kept strafing. This was the perfect chance to fight back. He fired a few shots at Dewey, until he was splatted.

Before he was splatted, Dewey realized that he was running low on ink. That was his mistake to not conserve his ink compacity right away.

Dewey respawned, afterwards. He looked, very surprised as before. He took Arnick for granted about his Bamboozler skills. "Touche, Arnick." Dewey nodded in approval before heading back. The real battle has just begun.

Tetrox was enjoying the view. She kept munching, happily until her bag of popcorn was empty. Her eyes were attached to the binoculars, while the two battlers were cancelling each other out.

Splats after splats, Arnick and Dewey were equal. The battle rages on for two minutes until they were tiring each other out. They were both drenched in sweat, after a ton of strafing.

Dewey stared at Arnick, catching his breath. "He wasn't kidding... Damn.." Dewey said, while panting. He's dealing with one of Belladonna's teammates. He can handle one-on-one with Arnick, but just image going up against the entire team.

Only 30 seconds on the clock and Arnick was no where to be seen. Dewey kept calm and readied up his Kraken special. He's saving it as a last resort, before the timer drops to 0.

Dewey kept searching for him on the left passageway to Arnick's spawn point area. That's when Arnick was hidding in a plant. He tossed a Disruptor at Dewey's back.

".......?!" Dewey was caught under Arnick's disruption. He could barely move at this state. He slowly, turned to see Arnick. His grin was very sinister, but it didn't faze him.

"Couldn't move, huh? That's too bad." Arnick said with a slight chuckle. He won't delay, too long as he aimed at Dewey. "Any last words?" His aimed, directly at Dewey's head.

Heh... Yeah.. I win.." A glint appeared in Dewey's eyes.

Arnick looked kinda confused by Dewey's answer. "I beg your pardon?" He'd soon noticed the glowing the tentacles on Dewey. That's the part, when Arnick's heart sank to the floor. "Oh... no..."

Dewey tranformed into a large Kraken. He's free from the disruption and able to move, freely. Since he's extremely close to Arnick, Dewey drilled through Arnick. Splatting him, instantly.

Tetrox looked thrilled, after Dewey's last second splat. She turned her back to the spawn point. She walked back to see Arnick, respawning from his point. "You alright, Nicky?" She said with a bit of concern.

Arnick looked at Tetrox. He wasn't angry, just... impressed. "I'm.. fine.." After that, the referee blew the whistle. The winner was decided and it was Dewey, who broke the tie.

Dewey stretched his arms, once he went back inside. The match was a close call to begin with. Suddenly, Arnick caught up with him. He must've ran to get to him.

Arnick cleared his throat and stared down at Dewey. He extends a hand to Dewey with a respectful smile. "Even thought I'd hate to admit defeat, but good game. You have my respect, already."

Dewey smiled and accept the handshake. "Thank you, Mr. Stilton. You've proved me wrong about your weapon. You certainly are the real deal." He'd hate to admit it, as well. In the end, it was a good match.

Tetrox popped in between the two. "That was the most entertainin', sugah~!" She hugged them, both.

"H-Heh, your girlfriend seems very enthusiastic." Dewey chuckled, feeling the embrace of the octoling.

Arnick blushed, deeply and shook his head. "S-She's not my girlfriend!!" He cried.

"Yeeeeah, suuuure" Dewey, smirked.

Tetrox lets them go and walked close to Arnick. "Welp, we better meet up with Bella and Cyanthia. Otherwise, she'll have our hide."

Arnick realizes, what time it is and he starts to panick. "Bloody hell!! We better get a move on, pronto!" Arnick grabbed her hand and escorted her out of the mall. Once he did, Tetrox waved good-bye to Dewey as she was whisked away.

"Take care, sugah!" Tetrox called out and they were no where to be seen.

Dewey watched the two, leave the mall. He reached for his phone and called Fynn. Once his captain answered with a tired voice, Dewey spoke up.

"Sorry to wake you from your nap. I guess, you have a reason to get beauty sleep." As snobby as he sounds, Dewey continued.

"I think, we should watch out for Toxink.. Arnick is one formiddible foe.." He talked with Fynn for 5 minutes, until he hung up. He found himself, a worthy rival to tangle with.

THE END

#dewey #arnick #tetrox #tamarinfrog #fanfic

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