Duck Season

The air was a few degrees warmer than she would’ve liked, with summer beginning to settle in full-force, and Faye blamed her still-half-asleep state on the temperature; she didn’t notice the underlying sound of a metal grate rattling as the toaster spat up its contents. Fortunately, when an unexpected but enthusiastic knock at the cabin’s door startled her into dropping her slightly-overdone toast, it found its resting place conveniently on the plate. She decided to claim that as reflexes rather than luck.

She hadn’t expected Eight to drop by today, but the octopus was bouncing on their feet, the tendrils of their hair twitching, and Faye immediately knew that they were here for a self-determined important reason, even before they spoke.

“Three, can we go to the carnival?”

Faye had been distantly aware of the carnival every year she lived in Inkopolis; each summer when it was set up, posters and flyers popped up all around the city, but that also meant everyone else knew about it too and the place would be crowded. She wasn’t keen on feeling like a can of sardines. “Can’t one of your other friends go with you? Or your teammates?”

Eight shook their head. “They are all… being busy!”

Well, that wasn’t a very convincing argument, but that meant Eight had their hearts set on spending time with Faye today. The older agent let out an overdramatic sigh, leaning more heavily than required against the old door frame. “Okay, fine, but only because there’s absolutely nobody else in the universe for you to go with.”

After being granted the time to eat her breakfast (she’d definitely need the little energy toast could provide), Faye was soon following her friend through the streets, not making any attempt to keep up with their excited pace. Eight would halt every now and then, both to not lose track of their day-out-buddy and to check the directions on their phone.

The GPS, and the map on a flyer Eight had thrown at her, guided them to one of the open parks. This specific one was little more than a grassy field during every other season, but currently hosted a vast collection of colourful stalls and tents and gleaming pop-up rides that Faye didn’t trust enough to step one foot on. A large diversity of people bustled throughout the place, from the giant crustaceans to the smallest tetra, although most were on the younger side unless they were clearly supervising a child. The whole place blasted the energy of after-school partying and summer holidays.

Faye, holding the same look of forced disinterest plastered on most of the parents, let Eight lead the way as they explored this new and interesting surface event. They were especially taken in by all the sweet treats on display (Faye had to dissuade them from buying so much that it’d make them sick), as well as the colourful lights of the rides. Eight near-begged Faye to ride the tilt-a-whirl with them, and it took some convincing to get them to go without her. She was free from headaches today, so far, and would rather not set one off by being spun around in a giant cup. Eight managed to wave at her every time the machine whirled them past.

Witnessing their unsteadiness as the post-ride dizziness took a moment to wear off, Faye took this as an opportunity to lead their adventure towards the quieter side of the carnival, where the games were less rambunctious and aesthetically laid out in circular booths. There were far less people here, and without the booming music and whirring of mechanical rides, Faye could finally hear herself think again – as well as the voices of the stall owners as they called for potential customers.

“Why, do I spy two lovely cephalopods who might become our next big winners?”

That was a voice Faye recognised, and it came with a free kick-start to the headache whose absence had graced her thus far.

Her first instinct was to insist to Eight that they simply ignore him and move on, but the octoling was already headed towards the nearby blue-and-white-striped stall with interest. Faye rolled her eyes with an exaggerated groan, pushed her boater more firmly against her head, and sulkily followed after.

As she reached the booth and looked directly at the squid running it, she fully intended to give him as loathing a glare as possible; instead, a snort of laughter forced its way out of her lungs. “What the hell are you wearing, dude?”

Four – real name Rollo, but Faye didn’t care enough – took her reaction in stride, grinning as he pulled lightly on the suspenders of his bright-pink overalls. A cheap-looking boater sat atop his head (she wore it better), but what truly made him look ridiculous was the giant fake moustache stuck to his upper lip, resonating with the natural cyan-coloured ink in his hair. “The latest fashion, my dear.”

“Call me that again and you’re getting a kick where it hurts.”

“What is the game being?” Eight asked, leaning forward a little to see more of the setup encased by a circle of bannered stands, more interested in that than Four’s outlandish attire.

“Fishing for ducks!” Four explained with a flourish, not intimidated at all by the short agent’s half-serious threat. He plucked a ‘fishing rod’ from a tub behind him, which was little more than a bamboo pole with some string and a child-safe blunt plastic hook tied to the end. “If you can hook one of them within a minute, you get a prize!”

In the middle of the ring of stalls, a large circular tank of water sat, a slow generator-created whirlpool taking the crowd of ducks for a gentle ride as they bobbed along the surface. The plastic creatures were a variety of different colours and sizes, and each had a loop of wire sticking out of their backs. Outside the tub, and a safe distance from any spillages, a few of the ducks sat on display to show off which ones matched each prize; the smallest one, a sparkly gold colour, sat upon its throne nearest the sky, where giant dolphin and orca plushies hung from the wires crossing overhead.

While Faye stood there thinking about how funny it would be if one of them broke free and landed on Four, he finished explaining the rules to Eight. The octopus was looking at the giant plushies with gleaming eyes; they were a sucker for anything big and fluffy, and that was going to be their downfall today, it seemed. Faye would have to make sure Eight wasn’t glued to this stand for the rest of the day, especially when the gold ducks were definitely going to be the hardest to catch. A few of them glinted innocently in the spinning crowd, situated nearest the edge of the pool where they would be moving the fastest.

A quick question and a determined nod proved that Eight was indeed set on this game. They handed over the fee for a try – cheaper than Faye expected, so it was definitely difficult to win if the carnival was turning a profit on this stall – and set to work with an expression frozen in focus. Faye folded her arms on the table to watch their efforts, accepting that she was probably going to be stuck here for a while. Much to her chagrin, Four took that as an excuse to start up a conversation.

“I didn’t expect to see you at the carnival today,” he commented, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t distract Eight from the duck zone.

“Yeah, well,” Faye shrugged, trying to force her tone to be more bored than it already was. “Nobody else for Eight to go with, y’know. Everyone was busy.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Four’s brow rise, an amused expression on his face. His boyfriend was on Eight’s team, and therefore he probably knew more about their schedule than Faye did, so that pretty much confirmed that Eight had only said that as an excuse. It wasn’t like Faye minded; she’d seen through it immediately, after all, and it was nice to spend the day at the carnival with her friend, even if she was now stuck here with Four as well.

“What are you doing here, Four?” she asked, throwing his own question back at him, because Four running a stall was even more unexpected than her existing in the area – and also she was curious as to why on earth he was here, in this silly outfit, running a stall.

“Ah, y’know. Money.” He waved one hand in a flippant gesture. “Week-long job that pays decently and I get to wear a silly moustache? Couldn’t pass it up.”

Faye couldn’t help the single laugh that escaped her at that, even if it was mostly at his expense.

The duck-shaped oven timer let out a sharp ‘brrring!’ noise to signify that time was up, and Eight deflated a little, their fishing hook still devoid of ducks. “It is difficult,” they stated with a small sigh. “Maybe I do one more try?”

“One more try,” Faye nodded, ready to drag them away afterwards even if they didn’t win.

One minute and another painful alarm later, Eight placed the empty pole back down on the stall with a quiet sound of defeat. The ducks weren’t biting today.

Well, that was the one attempt, and Faye didn’t want Eight fruitlessly spending the whole afternoon here. “Come on,” she said with a light shake of their arm. “Maybe there’s a ball-and-bucket game somewhere here. I bet you’d be good at that; it’s just like tossing splat bombs.”

“Perhaps,” Eight responded flatly, lifting their gaze from the stall to give the giant orca a last longing look.

Four picked up the discarded pole, turning it thoughtfully in his hands. “Y’know,” he started, giving Faye an ominously meaningful look. “A little birdie told me you sometimes go fishing with your girlfriend.”

Faye fixed him with another sharp glare. “That’s… very different to fishing for plastic ducks,” she pointed out. “Besides, I don’t have any change on me—”

No sooner had she said that, a coin was held out towards her, causing Faye to reflexively move back to avoid being hit in the face. Eight was staring at her with a hopeful look in their eyes, bouncing on their heels as they held out the offer.

For a long moment Faye kept up her slight grimace, but even she could not win against that expression. “Alright, alright. I’ll try it once. Don’t be too disappointed if I can’t win.”

She took the coin and shoved it at Four, ignoring his triumphant expression and accepting the cheap pole while Eight cheered and clapped their hands together. This thing wasn’t optimised for this at all, the light hook and string making it difficult to control, and Faye kept an eye on the timer as she set about her duck-hunting mission. Eight had been after the gold ducks, and she would try, but when that inevitably didn’t work out she would try to just hook an easier big duck before time ran out so they didn’t leave with nothing.

Faye probably looked a little silly, flailing this fake fishing pole around and trying to get it to go where she wanted it to, and when she glanced at the timer once more, ready to give up and pick the easier option, the awkward hook dragged itself through the loop of the golden duck she’d been aiming for.

… Oh!

For a moment she just stood there, the surprise at it having actually worked drowning out Eight’s excited cheering and the loud clapping from Four as he retrieved an identical orca to the one Eight had been gazing at from underneath one of the stalls. Faye only left her staring contest with the slowly-rotating duck when a large stuffed whale was almost shoved in her face. She rolled her eyes, pointing to Eight instead. No, she was not going to hold that thing just because Four thought it would be funny to see.

“Thank you so much, Three!” Eight gushed as they finally left, tightly embracing the giant plush that was half their size and beaming so brightly behind their skull-patterned mask that the smile reached their eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” Faye tried to brush it off, but a smile tugged at her face regardless. Perhaps the carnival was not her ideal place to spend the day, but seeing Eight so happy made her glad to be here.