* * *
The storm was over, and the dark gray overcast that had plagued the Café these past few days was steadily ripped apart under the heat of a midday sun. Spring, true spring, with all its warmth and light, had finally come.
Wraith hated it.
The sun's dreadful heat and dazzling light was reflected off the puddles and made the Froslass's eyes ache, and the evaporating water generated a horrible humidity that only amplified the discomfort. There was no wind to cool her or drive away the mist, and so she was forced to suffer the sun in silence. Sometimes she wondered how any creature could look forward to this bright, boggy hell while immersed in the cool, pleasurable embrace of a cold fog.
'Time to go home.' She decided, the Froslass doing her best to retreat into the darkest corner of the Smoker's Entrance. Tempting as Firenze's offer had been, sitting sequestered in a refrigerated room for three quarters of the year just wasn't worth the work, no matter how secure. She craved freedom; mobility. She was a drifter. Firenze would have to find his HR assistant elsewhere...Movement!
She had to squint against the light to be sure that it wasn't just refraction off the asphalt. Sure enough, something dark and quadrupedal was shouldering its way through the treeline. The silhouette was obscured by the darkness and undergrowth. It was large, jet black, and glared across the parking lot with wicked yellow eyes.
And it had something limp in its mouth.
Wraith quickly let out a long, high pitched whistle, and instantly Rock and Minka made their presence known at her flanks. Voices cried out in warning in the back of her mind as the psychics began alerting the rest of the mind-linked security teams.
Then the lurker finally emerged. It wasn't Eclipse but a Charizard, and the first word that came to Wraith's mind was "Ancient". Her nose was bone white, as was the skin on her stomach and around her claws. She was covered in coal-black scales turned dull and gray with age, her eyes were clouded by cataracts, and her wings were so pitted with holes and rips that flight was out of the question. She walked on all-fours, and behind her hung a tail that bore no open flame but smouldered like charcoal. She bore cargo: A half-naked girl slumped across her back; shirt torn off and tied tightly around one arm. A familiar looking Linoone drooped between her teeth.
Moments later, Elegance appeared behind her cradling Sugar in one hand and dragging a ruined backpack in the other. The Emolga’s blood soaked the Meinshao’s thigh and trickled down her leg. Finally came Pepper, the heavily blistered, blackened and bleeding Chikorita taking rear-guard on broken, shaky vines.
For a moment the three bouncers just watched and studied the procession as they crossed the parking lot. Then the Charizard looked up, spat the unconscious Linoone out of her mouth, and broke the silence.
With prejudice.
“What’re you kids doin’ standin’ around gawking? Y’all slow in the head or somethin’? GET OVER HERE AND HELP ME!” Her voice was scratchy and loud, and when she shouted it grated on the ears.
Rock hesitated, then moved forward to inspect the wounded child. As he did so, the elderly Charizard rolled her shoulders and more or less shoved the girl into his arms. Then she flung Cinnamon at Minka with all the care one might give to a sack of potatoes. “Get these to a healer.” She commanded, then looked over her shoulder at Elegance. “Him too!” She pointed at Sugar.
“Excuse me, but who the hell are you?” Rock asked. He got a glare in return.
“Your Elder! Now do as I tell you like a proper youth before my trainer keels over! And hey! Spooky! Go find your boss; I wanna have a word with him!”
The three bouncers gave each other confused looks before turning to comply. Not because the abrasive old dragon had any business ordering them around but because her demands more or less lined up with their own priorities. In short order, the wounded trainer and her pokemon - sans Pepper and the Charizard - were hustled inside, towards the sickroom. Wraith looked back at the front entrances to the Café, now left unguarded save for her.
‘You getting this?’ Wraith thought.
‘Stay there and watch the entrance, we’re sending a waiter..’ A stranger’s thoughts replied.
“...Well?” The Charizard demanded.
“Please be patient, ma’am. We need to shuffle the security teams around to keep the front entrance guarded while-“
“Is this about the Mightyena?” the Charizard asked, “Don’t bother, we killed it!”
“What-” Wraith cringed as the back of her brain was flooded with a dozen different questions from a dozen different minds. Zeno called for explanations, someone else asked if they should wake Sinister or Dex while another asked where Firenze was. Still another started issuing orders that were immediately countermanded leading to a mental shouting match tha-
“Hey. Hey! You even payin’ attention?” The old lizard thrust a claw in Wraiths face and started snapping her fingers. The Froslass shook her head, and pushed the Psychics out of her head. “S-sorry. Firenze will be out in a moment. Can you explain what happened?”
“Quit rushin’ me! You’ll hear it when your boss gets here. I’m not explainin’ myself twice! Kids these days got no patience I swear! No patience, but lord knows they’ll dawdle around with all the...” The elder dragon began to ramble.
Wraith stopped listening five minutes later.
Suddenly, the front door slammed back open. Firenze and a pair of Mightyena bounded out the door, the latter paying the newcomer no mind and simply charging across the street, narrowly missing a screeching van, and running back along the path blazed by the dragon. Wraith winced in sympathy. If what the dragon said was true, the siblings were in for a very rough day. She turned to look at Firenze, who looked similarly concerned and not a little regretful.
Then the Charizard sat up on her hindlegs, twisting and stretching her spine and popping a dozen joints in the process. The grinding of bones was enough to set a mon’s teeth on edge. Even hunched over with age she loomed over the Ninetales and Froslass and her frown never left her face.
Firenze quickly adopted a pleasantly neutral expression and cleared his throat. “Ah, good morning-”
“S’not.”
“-my name is-”
“I know who you are!” She spat. “You’re that Ninetales coward actin’ the alpha male!”
Firenze blinked, confused. “Excuse me?”
“Ya heard me! What were you doin’ sitting around here when there’s a predator threatenin’ your pack?” She jabbed a finger at Firenze, “You know, when I was alpha and had a problem with upstarts you know what I did? I beat the shit outta them! Myself! In person! I didn’t go orderin’ my mates to do all the work while I sat back polishing my hoard!”
“What?” Firenze hissed, gaze hardening into a scowl.
“Seriously, is this whole generation deaf or just stupid? Listen to me the first time! Maybe then you’ll actually learn somethin’!”
Firenze narrowed his eyes, slightly. Wraith quickly cleared her throat in an effort to diffuse the tension. “So, can you tell us what happened?” She asked.
The Charizard growled, “Fine, here’s the story: The Retard Ghost ran off into the woods because he’s an idiot, then that idiot-” She pointed at Pepper, “Ran off after him and took the idiot Emolga and his idiot steed into the forest alone to get fucking murdered! Then THAT idiot-” She pointed at Elegance, “-tried to do the exact same thing, but at least had the decency to grab my idiot trainer first, and together they all got their asses kicked by your Mightyena over the course of the morning until my stupid-lucky trainer managed to stab him in the neck and kill him! Got it?”
“Er…” Firenze began, uncertainly.
The Charizard threw up her hands and roared into the air. “Damnations! I’m surrounded by idiots!”
Then something *popped* in her hip and the ancient Charizard shuddered before toppling onto all-fours, nearly crushing her audience in the process. She hissed in pain, then wordlessly contorted her entire body until another, louder *pop* echoed across the parking lot.
“Ugh. I’m going inside…” She muttered and glared at Firenze, “Tend to my packmates. Clean their wounds and feed them. Or you and I are going to have problems.” And without another word the massive lizard shouldered her way inside the bar. A minute later she was complaining loudly at Jack about the quality of his drinks.
Pepper stumbled closer and gave Firenze and Wraith an apologetic look. “Sorry about her,” She said, “Truffles is a bit...abrasive.”
Wraith and Firenze shared a worried look. Someone Pepper found abrasive? And a Charizard at that? That could be a problem.
“She normally stays in her ball except for food; says reality is hell on her joints. Just...keep an eye on her please. She’ll recall once she’s...she’s...” Pepper’s expression blanked out for a moment. “‘e’s sure nobody’s gunna die.” She finished, producing the Masterball and tossing it to them.
She missed completely and didn’t seem to notice.
“Are you going to be okay?” Wraith asked. She noted the nasty looking claw marks across her forehead and chest, alongside the numerous other blisters and tears.
“Just tired.” Pepper mumbled, “Just...Gidda few potions in me n’ some bandages…” She trailed off and stumbled through the door.
Firenze heaved a deep sigh. “Watch ‘Truffles’ for me, please.” He told Wraith, “I need to contact the authorities and sort out this mess.”
“What about Sinister and Dextus?”
“Give them some time alone to cope.” Firenze replied. “Petier and I will go collect them if they aren’t back within the hour.”
* * *
*Whump-Crack*
“Fucking idiots!”
*Whump-Crack*
“They made me doubt my own brother!”
*Whump-Crack*
“Doesn’t even look like him!” Sinister hissed and kicked another stone back into the collapsed den where it ricocheted off with another loud *Crack*. She was livid.
Dextus sat nearby, staring at the body of the creature that had tormented Plaisir for the better part of a week.
It wasn’t Eclipse.
Their brother was alive!
He had never felt more relieved.
Dextus shook his head and threw a paw in front of Sinister to block her way. The thing that had died here was barely recognizable as a Mightyena, and even after death it had been mutilated; first by the Charizard cutting the jaws apart to free her trainer from its death grip, then by smaller scavengers quick to capitalize on an easy meal. It had been discarded carelessly, the one good eye pressed into the dirt. Even for barely civilized dark types such as them, the scene was disturbing.
‘Barely recognizable…’ A plan began to form in Dextus’ head. “This Guy: His head was all-black, and he was missing an eye-”
“The wrong! Eye!”
“-and I’m pretty sure Prometheus interacted with our brother maybe...twice in the last year?” Sinister shook her head. “Quippie was hysterical -and an idiot-, and the other witnesses were complete strangers.”
“His face is all wrong! How do you forget the fact that Eclipse’s face looks like a solar Eclipse when his name is literally Eclipse?!” Sinister growled, frustrated.
Dextus ignored him and concentrated on the body, matching and contrasting the fur patterns in his head. His neck was mottled with black spots from the collar up, with the spots increasing in size as they went until they merged into a solid-black. Eclipse was solid grey up to the face and black around the eyes-forward. It wasn’t a minor difference, but given the sorry state of his hide...
Dex looked at his sister. “Sinny, if Prometheus couldn’t tell the difference when he was alive…who's to say the police won’t make the same mistake with a bloated, bloody corpse?”
Sinister cocked her head, confused.
Dextus beamed at him, “This could take the heat off our brother!”
“You want to lie about this? To the Police?” There was trepidation in Sinister’s voice.
“I’m saying it would be very convenient for everyone if this body happened to be named ‘Eclipse’.”
“You realize we could get arrested if they call our bluff, right?”
“If the Humans practice due diligence, and waste time and money for a DNA test on the corpse of a wild Pokémon whose listed crimes only involved other Pokémon they don’t care about, we’ll just tell them we made the same mistake as Prometheus.” Dextus said, putting emphasis on the quotes. “‘the body was too stinky’. ‘He’s been rolling in the mud too long’. We could barely see his face through all the tears!’” Her voice rose to a mocking, melodramatic wail.
Sinister couldn’t help but smile at that, but only briefly. “Who is this, anyways?”
“I think he was one of the lurkers we drove out when we got here. Ran… north, I think?” Dextus thought out loud. “He must’ve worked his way back after Eclipse left, and I was busy on that field trip from hell.”
“That explains how he knew about Quippie, I guess.” Sinister said. “But why did he come back?”
“...Desperation.” Dextus concluded after a moment’s thought. “Remember what Omen said, about the ‘wrongness’ in the forest making the hibernators hide in their dens, and the carnivores avoid each other? If food wasn’t surfacing and expanding his territory wasn’t an option, then going after civilized Pokémon like Quippie must have been very enticing.”
“Hmph.” Sinister dismissed the thought with a shrug. “So you don’t think he’ll be missed?”
“He won’t.” Dextus insisted. “Think of it this way: You saw the state of that girl back at the Café. She’s going to need surgery, and money for surgery. This’ll give her that money, and clear the bounty on Eclipse. Andit’ll make it easier on Firenze to salvage the Café’s reputation, and we won’t be confined to the Café under lockdown which means more and better business for the Café.”
“It is a very...convenient lie.” Sinister conceded.
“Think of it as a favor. The waiters won’t want to lift the security measures so long as Eclipse is still at large, and every day we send waiters on snipehunts the Café loses more and more business. We’re just protecting it, like we always have! It’s just now instead of wild Pokémon or angry customers, we’re protecting them from the truth.”
Sinister heaved a sigh and looked away. “But if the truth does get out…” She left the sentence hanging. And for a moment the siblings sat there and contemplated the potential consequences of their choices.
The buzzing of flies began to fill the silence. Overhead, a wild Fearow circled expectantly.
“...If things don’t change, the Café could siege itself into bankruptcy.” Sinister said, resigned.
“Yea…” Dextus agreed.
Sinister looked around, then picked himself up and trotted into the tall weeds bordering the clearing. She returned a moment later with a singed but mostly intact sleeping bag, one of those equipped with a thermal shroud to keep a trainer warm in the winter, which explained why it had survived the Mystery Mightyena’s hyper beam as well as it did. She dropped it into the dirt next to Dextus. “We can use this to bring it back to the Café.” She explained.
Dextus nodded.
“He’s family.” Sinister murmured, more to herself than her brother.
“Yea.”
“We have to protect him.”
“Yea.”
“...I hope we don’t regret this.”
* * *
“Lies and Secrets are for the guilty and regretful. I am neither!”
‘Boy did that statement age like milk!’ Pepper lay exhausted on top of her comforter, staring at the blankest wall of the room and thinking.
The room her team had been provided had been spartan; an old dresser, a crooked end table, and a closet so shallow that were it not for the flimsy balsa wood doors she would’ve mistook it for pure negative space. Ugly yellow walls, good for hiding stains. Nasty white carpets, good for holding stains. And then there was the bed, or more accurately the mattress; the frame had been removed upon request on their second night so Cinnamon wouldn’t bang up his shins climbing in, and to make it safer for Sugar to climb down in the mornings.
She’d fucked up. So hard.
Her skin still tingled unpleasantly from the potions, keeping her unhappily lucid despite her exhaustion. The issue was compounded by the stimulants in the hyper potions, and the general discomfort of the self-applied bandages around her head and chest over the cuts too deep for potions to heal in one sitting. The collar of her neck was on fire; a consequence of taking a knife to the frayed, burned, and broken vines. By trimming the ruined ends, she would ensure the tips eventually grew back strong and clean. But the growing took time, and wasn’t all that pleasant in the interim. Ironically, the only thing that didn’t hurt was her back.
She had no work, she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t find the will to train, had nobody to talk to because all her friends were in the infirmary...
Nothing to do but think.
She thought back to the ambush. What she could’ve done to prevent it, identifying when she had gotten complacent about checking their backs, where Sugar was looking and when, and even which way the wind was blowing, which might’ve allowed Cinnamon’s nose to catch Eclipse, had she been just a bit less single minded.
She thought about her friends. Alive, thank Arceus, but she hadn’t been able to wring any information out of Boora or the specialists she’d called in to take them away. Last Pepper had seen of Sugar he was unresponsive and limp, and his cheeks had been throwing up intermittent showers of sparks. How long had they been bleeding out in that cave? And that Shadowball wound...Cinnamon had the auric resistance of wet cardboard, and after sitting in a filthy cave for so long it would almost certainly be infected. And Mary…
She was a starter! She was supposed to protect her trainer, dammit! And instead here she was endangering her and everyone else for a stupid vendetta…
‘And where the fuck was Honey!?’ Pepper buried her face in the mattress and screamed.
A knocking on the door broke her out of the stupor. ‘What now?’ Pepper rolled off the mattress and pulled herself to the door by her forelegs. She just couldn’t be assed to pull out the vines, even if they were faster. “Be right there!” She called halfheartedly.
She cracked the door open to find Elegance standing on the other side. Arms crossed, expression impassive, eyes unblinking. The Mienshao had come out of the fight with nothing worse than a couple of abrasions on her hands and grass stains on her knees. She towered over the Chikorita, and while her face betrayed nothing Pepper couldn’t help but feel judged.
Pepper returned the look, craning her neck to look the Meinshao in the eye.
They stared at each other in silence.
And the silence began to drag.
Elegance spoke first. “I-”
“I KNOW!” Pepper shouted. “I know! I know! IknowIknowIknow! I fucked up. I was cocky, and you tried to warn me, and I ignored you and it nearly got my friends killed!”
Elegance closed her mouth and frowned.
“But I was just so obsessed with getting you to see that I could fight! A-and I just figured you were acting the know-it-all again and ignored you and I wasn’t thinking things through!” Pepper continued, “I...wanted you to respect me. And I put that ahead of my friend’s safety because I was too arrogant to consider the consequences if you were actually right.”
“…”
“...So you don’t need to say it! ‘I told you so!’ Great! You win! Now just...leave me alone.” Pepper pulled away to shut the door, but Elegance thrust an arm into the frame and propped it open.
Another staredown.
Elegance didn’t speak at first. Instead, she knelt and brought a fur-covered claw to Pepper’s cheek. Pepper quickly brushed it away with a vine.
“Tear stains,” Elegance noted. “You’ve been crying.”
Pepper’s face twisted in bemusement. She dabbed a vine at her eyes, more curious than embarrassed.
“You don’t cry much, do you?” Elegance asked.
“I don’t get sad, not anymore. I get angry. Then I smash whatever made me angry with a big rock.” Some confidence returned to the Chikorita’s voice.
“A very...proactive problem solving strategy.”
Pepper smiled, briefly, before looking away shamefully and studying the tip of her vine. “Doesn’t work so hot when the thing making you angry is yourself.”
Elegance nodded, “Believe me, I know what you are going through right now. More than you know. I understand what it is like to lose someone - or nearly lose someone - and feel responsible for it.”
“Really?” Pepper asked.
Elegance sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “...Yes.”
This time, Pepper didn’t pry. She gave the Meinshao a moment before asking, “So you gunna lecture me or what?”
“Actually, I came to ask if you would like to join me tomorrow for some training. I know a place a little ways behind Plaisir where we can work in private.”
Pepper couldn’t help but gape.
“You...you were not the only one in the wrong.” Elegance admitted. “I should never have doubted you the way I did.”
“But you were right!”
“About your friends, yes, but not about you! I saw what you did to Eclipse. You fought him, alone, and won! I cannot say if I could have managed the same.”
“Not before getting knocked out and chucked in a ditch for an hour.” Pepper noted, bitterly.
“But you still took a Shadowball to the spine, and still managed to fight him.” Elegance countered. “If your friends had not been in danger, you could have kept him pinned indefinitely.”
“I still don’t get how that makes you wrong, though.”
Elegance sighed and explained, “I treated you like a child. Like you were fragile, and not mature enough to realize you were fragile. I made false assumptions about your injury and ignored you when you said otherwise.”
“Mhmm…”
“It is like you said: Because I insisted I knew better than you when I did not, you were not ready to listen to me when my warnings were truly justified. You wouldn’t respect my opinion because my opinions had never been respectable.”
“Hmm.” Pepper sighed and looked down at the floor, lost in thought. “I guess we were both a little arrogant.”
Elegance said nothing; just nodded her head silently.
Pepper closed her eyes and thought for a moment, then said, “I don’t know. I don’t feel like...like I deserve to train or battle right now. Now when one of my friends is missing and the rest are healing from my fuckup.”
“Next week, then?” Elegance offered.
“Maybe.” Pepper mumbled. She paused, considering her next words carefully. “You know, you were really good back when we met. That first fight? It was clear you knew what you were doing. You were dodging my attacks like they were second nature, where most would either try to take them on the chin or be caught off-balance. You made plans, and adapted quickly. Whatever you used to do, you must have been a real professional…”
Elegance didn’t smile, but her eyes lit up at the sudden compliments.
“...that’s why it hurt so much when you called me an invalid, and my dreams delusions. It’s one thing to hear from an idiot trainer or random bystanders, but from a peer? A professional? It was like a regional master telling a little child he would never become a respectable trainer. I...I had to change your mind.”
Elegance shook her head. “I was in error. I’m sorry I said those things.”
“I’m sorry I called you a bitch...and threw rocks at you...and tossed you around and beat you into the floor and hit you in the head with a boulder the size of a table...you know, in hindsight, I may have overreacted a little.”
And half a dozen eavesdroppers, drawn by Pepper’s yelling, opened their bedroom doors wide to shout:
“YOU THINK!?”
* * *
Clarice shifted uncomfortably in her ice jacket. It was an uncomfortable, ugly yellow affair lined with ice packs along the inside to keep her cool. It would keep her body temperature stable, but did nothing for her face and extremities and amplified her burgeoning claustrophobia with it’s Ill-fitting form.
It was already unpleasantly warm in the halls, but the fire-type’s room was practically an oven by comparison. She hated it there, in much the same way the warm-blooded waiters of Plaisir hated her own office. She wasn’t in any mood to appreciate the irony. Not now, when her entire career seemed balanced on a knife’s edge.
She didn’t want to do this. She wanted to go back to her desk and bury herself in her work with all its nice, safe numbers and charts.
She had to do this. If her job was in jeopardy, she needed to be decisive and confront Firenze before the subtext of his actions became overt action.
Clarice reached forward and knocked on the door. Three rapid knocks. Part of her hoped he wasn’t even in.
“Enter!”
‘Ugh...’ Clarice swallowed before nosing her way into the office. A blast of horrible hot air greeted her, and she had to suppress the urge to run back to her nice, cold freezer-office. The room itself was all warm colors: Gold trims, rosey furniture and crimson carpet, plus lots of stained wood and even sunlight from the window. And of course, framed by that window, tapping away at a custom-built laptop, was Firenze.
The usually verbose Fox’s voice was clipped and to the point, which almost caught Clarice off guard. “Clarice.”
“Sir.”
“I presume the morning’s, ah... excitement, has been dealt with?” He prompted.
Clarice sighed. “The police have our official statements, but they’ll be speaking with Ms. Shepard and her own tomorrow. Eclipse’s body has been collected, the Mightyena twins have taken the week off to mourn, and Mr. Pouncer has been informed of the...unavailability of his new cleaning staff. There’s more to do, but it can wait.”
Firenze nodded. “And the staff?” He asked.
“Shift managers have been informed. They’ll announce this morning’s developments at the beginning of their shifts.”
“Very good.” Firenze returned his attention to the computer in front of him, and for a very brief moment Clarice considered leaving. But the Ninetales seemed to sense there was more. “...is there something you’d like to talk about, Clarice?”
“Wraith came to me this morning, looking for an interview.”
“Ah, yes!” Firenze smiled. “Wraith has proven herself reliable, and she’s shown excellent judgement working with some of our more...troublesome hires. How did it go?”
Clarice jumped straight to the point. “You’re trying to replace me, aren’t you?”
Firenze paused, then carefully pushed his laptop to the side so he could look Clarice in the eye. “Excuse me?”
“You offered her a position in HR. You offered her my room! And you were going to assign her my responsibilities! You were going to make me train my own replacement!”
Firenze said nothing and simply raised an eyebrow. In Clarice’s half-panicked mind that may as well have been an admission of guilt.
“H-how could you- how even…” Clarice stammered for a moment before seeming to rally. “After everything I’ve done for this Café? For you! I’ve personally pulled this place out of the clutches of immanent bankruptcy, and you’d dump me to the curb just like this?”
Firenze remained stone silent.
“What was I even supposed to do? It’s not as if I liked Eclipse. I wanted to fire him since day one but I couldn’t because nobody could give me anything solid to justify action! I just had to sit there while he and his incestu-uh” Clarice stumbled when she saw Firenze beginning to frown, “-h-his siblings ran about ruining our reputation!”
“Enough.” Firenze’s stern voice cut straight through her tirade. He didn’t yell, his voice carried the confidence and authority to make Clarice’s next words catch in her throat.
“First of all,” He continued, “If I believed you were neglecting your duties to my employees to such a degree that it was fostering a toxic work environment, no amount of money you made or could ever make would keep you in that office.”
Clarice gulped and quickly looked away.
“Second, it has become clear to me that you and Coco are not equipped to deal with a crisis like Eclipse. Coco isn’t always here, and has other responsibilities. You’re here almost every day, but your attitude and your isolation in the office has made you a pariah among the staff. Maybe you would have gotten the concrete evidence you were looking for if victims had had a more sympathetic ear to talk to...or maybe not. We’ll never know for sure.”
“That’s not-hold on! That’s not fair!”
“No?”
“I’m always the one charged with meting out punishment; of dealing with the troublemakers! Of course they all hate me, because I’m the only one dealing with harsh truths while you two get to distribute nothing but praise!”
“You have exhibited plenty of disdain for our staff in return, and I’m not sure it has always been warranted.” Firenze pointed out, but he began to look genuinely doubtful. “We could redistribute the responsibilities, but if you truly wish to be held in higher regard, I believe you could start with your attitude, and by dissociating your inbox for employee complaints with the garbage can.”
For a moment, both parties looked a little chagrined.
Firenze shook his head and continued, “And third, Clarice, my intention was never to replace you: it was to expand HR. Even if that meant sharing your offices with other coworkers, we’d still need to do it, because two representatives for a company where the employees are as intimate and political as ours simply isn’t working.”
‘He said I’m not being replaced.’ Clarice sighed and sagged a little in relief.
‘...yet’ The voice of doubt in the back of her mind added. Clarice shivered despite the heat. She was on thin ice, even if Firenze wasn’t going to admit it. She more than anyone in the Café knew the look of staff on their last chance, and now thanks to Eclipse, knew how it felt.
“If you are looking for another like me,” Clarice said out loud, “Why are you looking among our existing staff?”
“You mean besides the fact any new hire could take one look at our company’s reviews and run screaming the other way?” Firenze shook his head, “We don’t need another financier, but the redundancy could be useful. We need a greater presence on the ground, both for appearance’s sake, and our own awareness. The only way we’re going to get that is with more HR staff. Preferably one of our own, since it will be easier for staff to accept them as trustworthy. Someone with the social clout to interface with most everyone, and is never too far away from the Café should they be needed.”
“I’ll...see to it, sir.” Clarice wrinkled her nose as she painted a mental venn diagram of Pokemon she considered praiseworthy versus those who fit Firenze’s criteria. It mostly came out as two entirely separate circles, and one of them was nearly empty.
Firenze caught her expression and mirrored it. “Ask Coco to pick out candidates as she returns.” He said, in his most commanding voice. “She’ll know most everyone and their skillsets, and she’s more likely to convince anyone she asks anyways.”
Clarice made a conscious effort not to facepalm in frustration. Closely working with one of those filthy waiters, and now it wasn’t even her choice which one it would be! ‘Fucking hell!’ She thought. “Yes, Sir.” She said.
“Very good. And with that I-” A knocking at the door cut Firenze off mid-sentence.
“Sir Firenze!” A familiar - and triumphant - voice called from behind the door. “We bring great news from home!”
Another, more feminine voice continued, “We secured the land as you asked -and so much more!”
For what felt like the first time in days, Firenze bore a genuine smile. “Ellen, Errol! Please come in!”
A Gardevior and a Gallade, both looking slightly dirtied but very proud, marched into the room. The pair had left for Florida nearly a month ago, and it showed in the sunburns blemishing their otherwise perfectly pale skin. Even in the cool months, the Sunshine state took no prisoners. Following behind them...
“October?”
The Ninetales was grumpy, soaking wet, and covered head to toe in a strange mottled green tarp. “I went through all that trouble! Grabbing a ghillie suit my size, scoping out the base, crawled through mud and muck for six bloody hours past a dozen patrols to get close enough to break in and grab the hostages, and what do I find?” October pointed at Ellen and Errol, “These inconsiderate jerks having tea with their captors!”
Ellen lifted her hands up in surrender, “October, please! They aren’t enemies! They just wanted us to help them with some chores!”
“For nearly four weeks?”
“We were...fostering ties with our future neighbors! We could have left earlier but...it seemed rude to just leave immediately after getting what we asked for.”
Errol looked up to address the larger room, “I’m sorry we didn’t call earlier, but our gracious hosts lacked a landline, and they have none of these sell-services you use in the swamplands. Was there anything we missed while we were gone?”
Firenze shook his head. “A lot has happened, but we will have to catch up at another time. Clarice and I are rather busy resolving some rather urgent matters at the moment.”
“Very well! Please, let us know when you have some time; we have much to talk about!” Ellen bowed at the waist and the Psychics turned to leave.
“[sub]Stupid stinkin’ swamp people and their spotty cell services...[/sub]” October turned to follow the psychics out the door. “I’m going to go and get cleaned up, before the next manhunt. Salvage some bloody action out of the day....”
Firenze cleared his throat to get his attention. “Err, actually October, there’s something you need to know…”
October turned to look at Firenze, then at Clarice. Both were giving him odd looks. “What is it?” he asked.
Firenze explained, reluctantly.
“...WHAT!?”
* * *
By the time Omen and Hastur returned to the Café, its after-dinner ‘rush hour’ was only just beginning to die down. Neither pokemon felt the desire to wander through the main entrance, or answer the myriad of questions they’d get from the security staff or upper management. So, instead of one of the front or side entrances, the two proceeded straight for the basement entrance on the west side of the complex. It would have been trivial to avoid the other waiters with the aid of Hastur’s intellectus, but the little ghost wasn’t using it today. At all.
Omen briefly fiddled with the talisman around her neck, peered through the door (and the walls, and the floor and ceilings) before nodding and hurrying Hastur into the basement hall. The traffic upstairs worked to their favor: most of the waiters were busy plying their trade upstairs, and as a result they were able to make their way to Prometheus’s room unscathed.
Omen knocked softly, and the door opened in response.
It was as if someone had attempted to squeeze all the opulence and luxury of a Byzantine church into a college freshman’s bedroom. The room was dominated by an absolutely massive bed covered in crimson silk sheets of a coarser variation chosen less for comfort than for its tensile strength. A narrow, but finely carved wooden shelf hosting a library of books of varying topics sat along the opposite wall next to a gold-trimmed fainting couch, while the corner to Omen’s immediate left hosted a small workbench of sorts complete with a small vice and an array of custom-made tools. Even the walls were crowded with a variety of replica paintings, ranging from Renaissance era depictions of the Greek gods, to Byzantine portraits all interlocked together like some great game of Tetris. And it was all fitted into a space no larger than the typical guest bedroom.
Prometheus certainly had a knack for fitting a whole lot into very little space, that’s for sure.
The canine in question was hunched over the workbench, carefully fiddling with some sort of...miniature astrolabe or antikythera reconstruction. It was hard to tell in its half-assembled state, and those massive paws were of little use assembling such a delicate instrument, but Prometheus seemed determined. The Archanine saw Omen enter and smiled, spitting out the screwdriver held in his massive maw.
“The Oracle returns!” His voice came out in a whisper, though for an Arcanine that meant the industrial-strength rock grinder that was his voice was merely set to ‘low’. He noted hir condition, and the carefully masked exhaustion on hir face. “And none the worse for wear, I hope?”
“Good Evening, Prometheus.” Omen took a couple steps into the room and shifted slightly so Hastur could see inside. “We were wondering if you might be able to spare a moment to talk.”
Prometheus’s face fell from pleased to cautious in moments; moreso when he saw Hastur on the floor. He motioned with a tail towards Quippie. The injured Linoone was snoring softly, sprawled out across a single pillow atop the bed. “Be careful: he needs his sleep.”
Omen nodded and shifted allowing Hastur a better look into the room. The Mimikyu locked their eyes on the Linoone and briefly seemed to freeze. “...sorry.” They murmured.
“Indeed…” Prometheus looked back at Omen. “What is it you wish to talk about?”
“Honey and I had a talk in the forest this morning-”
“Where did you go? We were worried sick you might have run into Eclipse.”
“A long story.” Omen flicked an ear dismissively. “But we spoke and came to understand each other some...and they mentioned you had some concerns about them?”
Prometheus hummed in affirmation. “They apparently can see the future? But they have yet to explain to me why they allowed Quippie to get hurt, and their friends endangered.”
Omen nodded in understanding.”And in absence of an explanation, you conjured some less than ideal theories to fill in the gaps.”
His face fell. “I was worried. Quippie was hurt and the prognosis was that he might lose a foot. Or multiple feet. I wasn’t thinking straight and made some assumptions.” Prometheus looked back at his friend as he spoke. His eyes closed in thought. “But…”
“still curious.” Honey offered.
“‘Curious’ is certainly a word for it.” The delivery was innocuous, but Prometheus’s voice carried the barest hint of suspicion.
Omen took a deep breath. It had taken most of the day for Honey to explain, in their halting, stuttering maner, exactly how everything worked, and even then shi wasn’t sure shi knew enough to explain it. Then shi noticed some ball bearings on Prometheus’s desk. Shi had an idea.
“So, the first thing you’ll need to understand is that Honey isn’t omniscient.” Omen began. “It’s more like...they know somebody who almost is, and can ask them questions. And that somebody is both overly literal and very particular about what they do or do not know.”
Prometheus raised an eyebrow.
“They also can’t ‘see’ the future, exactly. It might be more accurate to say they can predict the future with very high accuracy.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Bear with me.” Omen took the ball bearing from the table and held it up. “Imagine I released this on an uneven table. Where will it go?”
Prometheus took a moment to consider if it was a trick question. “...over the lowest edge and onto the floor.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because...that’s how gravity works?” Prometheus gave hir a weird look.
Omen shifted to tilt the table slightly, and let the ball roll about halfway down before catching it in a paw. “Exactly. You just predicted the future based on your knowledge of gravity, inclines, and things that are round.” Omen gestured to Honey, who hadn’t moved an inch since the conversation started. “Honey’s power works the same way, but more so. His...friend...knows every crack, dent, divot and bump in the table, the moment-to-moment friction and gravitational forces on the ball, and everything down to the direction and speed of air molecules bouncing off the ball’s surface. It can predict the path of the ball perfectly.”
“unless bumped.”
Prometheus’s eyes flicked from Omen to Hastur, but the Mimikyu’s eyes had already disappeared into the Colander.
“Err, yes. When Honey starts acting on foreknowledge, he is effectively ‘bumping the table’. And the issue there is that Intellectus - that is, his friend - cannot predict what will happen when Honey starts acting with the benefit of foresight.”
“Why not?”
“Because knowing what will happen changes their behavior which changes what will happen which changes their behavior.”
“...”
“I am not being facetious; that’s how it works.”
Prometheus looked skeptical.
“Their knowledge of their own influence on time twists the results of the prediction even as they’re observed, so when they try to ask, for instance, if they will convince a stranger not to go on their afternoon jog, they don’t tend to get an answer because knowing that they would convince them might lead them to say the wrong things and fail at convincing them, knowledge of which may lead them to succeed at convincing them if they try harder, or maybe not. It’s all a bit...strange.”
“How does this prevent Hastur from warning Quippie not to go running Tuesday?”
“friends believe. Quippie doesn’t. Quippie alone. Quippie dies.”
“Honey was worried that if Quippie didn’t believe his prediction, he would be trapped with Eclipse alone in the forest and would almost certainly die before they could rescue him.” Shi translated.
“So come find me earlier, or ask security.”
“could not. work.”
Omen sucked in air through her teeth. This more than anything else was what shi was worried about. But Honey had let the cat out of the bag, so shi elaborated. “The previous evening, Honey’s peers got into trouble for leaving work early and was nearly fired for it, among other things. They were told that they must come in on time and leave only after their shift. Honey took that to heart.”
Prometheus frowned.
“They wanted to leave earlier, but felt they couldn’t leave until the end of the shift.”
“So...Hastur prioritized his employment over Quippie’s life?” Anger crept into Prometheus’s voice.
‘Dammit’ Omen raised a paw to stall. “No! It’s...I don’t think they considered that an option.”
“How is it not-!”
“Hastur isn’t-!”
“please” Honey’s voice was quiet, bordering on imperceptible. “wanted happiness. for both. found compromise. was mistaken.”
Prometheus just stared at them, uncertainty warring with rage behind his bright-blue eyes.
“finish work. find you. save friends. boss happy. friends happy. most happiness...I thought.” As they spoke, those red-dot eyes began to blink and flick about; The creature inside struggling and failing to meet Prometheus' gaze.
“So, you wanted to make everyone happy, and thought waiting until Quippie was injured was the best way to do it.” Prometheus said, his tone was rather ominous.
“no...yes. yes no. The Mimikyu began to quiver. “cannot. must stay. rules.”
“You could’ve just asked!”
“but…”
“They would’ve let you go if it was for an emergency.”
“no. firenze said. cannot anger. must remain.”
“Nobody’s going to get angry at you for leaving to save another mon’s life!”
“...but...rules.”
Arcanine and Mimikyu stared at each other in mutual confusion.
Omen sighed. “This is what I mean: Honey is a very...absolute specimen. If they’re told they must remain at work until 2:00pm, they’ll treat it as Gospel. Bending the rules is just not in the cards, in their mind.”
“very sorry. not understand.
For a minute there was only silence as Prometheus tried to meet the Mimikyu’s gaze; searching for the barest shred of honesty in the Mimikyu’s eyes...but Honey wouldn’t return the stare. Probably couldn’t, and it only made them more suspicious.
Until a loud yawn cut into the conversation. “...S’fine!”
Suddenly all attention was on Quippie. The Linoone was lethargically stretching himself out across the pillow. “Mornin’ guys!”
“It’s eleven at night.” Omen said.
“Eh, details.”
Prometheus twisted around to give Quippie a look. “Fine? When did this…” He gestured towards Quippie’s legs. “...suddenly become ‘fine’?”
Quippie moved to rub his eyes, before remembering the state of his feet and sagging back into the pillow. “Don’t get me wrong. This suuuucks and I hate every minute of it! My paws are itchy, my muscles are all jittery, I SWEAR my blood pressure is spiking, I got a massive headache...but it’s better than dying.” The Linoone shivered at the memory of his ordeal.
“But they had the power to stop all of that!”
“Maybe? Like, remember back on the RV, when Nature’d wanna watch those boring afternoon lifetime shows during the long trips?”
“I remember.”
“Some of those were about people like Hastur, and if I remember anything from those shows, it was that those people tended to be...kinda weird. No offense.”
Honey didn’t respond.
“Maybe the thought that they could excuse themselves just didn’t occur to them?”.
“I find that difficult to believe. They can see the future-”
“No,” Omen corrected again, “they can acquire information from another creature that can predict the future, very accurately, until they resolve to interfere with it. It’s not the same: They are not omniscient.”
Prometheus started to shuffle backwards, suddenly outnumbered and outflanked by his own friend. But he didn’t back down. “You’re really willing to accept this? You truly think that even being warned hours in advance, the best they could come up with was to wait until you were on the verge of death to rescue you?”
Quippie closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “Remember when we were on the road trip, and those assholes sabotaged the RV and left us stranded, and I went to get the police?”
“Yeah.”
“Remember how I came back with the entire precinct on my tail?” Quippie frowned, “Looking back, there were so many better ways I could have played that. I didn’t need to tell them everything about us; about Plaisir and the street fight and all that other stuff. If I had just told them the RV was busted and maybe mentioned that the wires looked cut. The Police would’ve called a tow for us without second thought!”
“It worked out in the end, though.” Prometheus recalled the chaos that had been the immediate aftermath of the warehouse assault: the insanity that was the earthquake, the busted warehouse, the fires and wounded pokemon and the busted RV. Honestly, the sudden arrival of law enforcement couldn’t have been more timely if they’d planned it.
“But can you imagine if I’d returned to the RV and everything hadn’t been on fire? Heck, they ended up arresting me anyways just out of spite!”
“It was only for a few hours.” Prometheus reminded him. “They had bigger problems after that.”
“Yeah. Few Hours. Plenty of time to think of how I coulda played that better.” Quippie mused. “But I didn’t, and nearly ended up in a pokeball! If I can screw up a simple task, even with all the time I had to think ahead, then why wouldn’t others. Why not a weird ghost-thing that can only speak in two word sentences?”
Honey’s tiny red eyes blinked in acknowledgement behind the huge smoked lenses of his disguise.
“Prometheus, you’re really smart. You could probably find the perfect compromise, given enough free time and no pressure. But Hastur didn’t have time, and their mind isn’t perfect and it runs all weird and they were under a lot of stress. So they chose the best idea they could come up with and ran with it. And it kinda sucked. But it still saved my life! That’s gotta count for something!”
“I suppose you’re right…” Prometheus sighed and rested his head in a massive orange paw.
Quippie gave him a strained smile. “Believe me, the good ideas always come in hindsight.” He turned to Honey. “Thanks for saving me.”
“happy to.”
Prometheus studied the Mimikyu one last time, but those pitch black lenses and tiny red eyes revealed very little when they were staring directly at him.
Just as it’s designer intended.
He sighed and conceded. “Alright. Thank you for saving my friend...Hastur.”
* * *
It was pitch black, and silent as the void. She couldn’t see. She kept running. Something was chasing her.
She couldn’t remember what it was or why, but it hated her, and it wanted her dead. She didn’t question it; just kept running. Roots and stones threw her off balance but when she looked down there was only featureless black. And when she looked ahead, she saw nothing. There was only what was behind her and a desire to escape.
She tripped.
It leaped.
She spun around to land on her back and pulled out her knife. Steel met pale pink skin. Blood poured over her arm. Mary watched it die and screamed.
And then she woke up.
* * *
She was already half-propped up on some pillows in a sort of compromise between a comfortable sleeping position and a comfortable sitting position. Naturally it just meant she was uncomfortable either way, but it let her sit up enough to crane her neck and look around. It was a plain room, with white walls and greenish trim on hard linoleum floors, and curtains hanging from the roof to accommodate multiple gurneys with a minimum of privacy pushed back against the wall. An old television in the corner flashed silently. There wasn’t even an end table: all her belongings had been piled into a corner on the opposite side of the room.
That had given her nothing interesting to focus on but her left arm. It was infuriatingly itchy, both inside and out. Her arm hadn’t needed just bandages and a cast but a whole lattice of bolts and screws to keep her bones together, and if it weren’t for the morphine she’d be screaming. But she supposed it was better than losing the arm entirely, which the doctors yesterday said she very nearly had. Right before they put her under for surgery...
Something snorted to her left, and Mary realized she wasn’t alone. She looked over the side of the bed to see an injured Linoone sitting at attention next to the bed. Mary was thirsty, she realized. She did her best to summon some spit before swallowing it to soothe her throat.
“Hey Cinnamon.” She croaked
Cinnamon jumped, then whooped with joy and leapt up onto the bed - or half-up, as he hadn’t accounted for the retaining bars that lined the sides of the gurney. The Linoone quickly found himself scrambling to hold onto the edge of the bed and Mary shouted in alarm as it began to tip over-
-only to be pushed back upright by a vine, followed rapidly by another vine grabbing Cinnamon around the stomach and lifting him carefully onto the bed. Mary looked to the right to see Pepper sitting near the door. She looked...uncertain, and was doing her best not to meet her trainer’s gaze.
Then her vision was obscured as Sugar clambered down off her head (‘How did I miss him?!’) and dropped onto her chest. The Emolga was sporting several new bloodied bandages, particularly around the torso, and carried a cheap, white, plastic-looking replacement satchel that bit into his collar. But for all his obvious discomfort, the only expression on his face was relief. They were all relieved.
“Hey guys,” Mary smiled weakly. Then she realized something and asked, “Wait, where’s Honey? Did you find them or are they still missing-“
“here.”
Mary craned her neck to see her Mimikyu upside-down, clinging to the ceiling like a very confused lamprey. “...Oh.” Mary relaxed back into the pillows. “Alright then.”
And then Cinnamon threw himself on top of her. Eighty pounds of pure affection, enough to make breathing a chore, stretched across the sheets in an approximation of a hug. Sugar snorted in amusement and sat back against her shoulder, and even Honey inched his way down the wall behind her and reached forward to rub her head. Mary sighed happily and reached around with her good arm to return the gestures best she could. “Thanks guys. I missed this...so much.”
Though one was missing.
“Pepper? You alright over there?”
The Chikorita shrugged noncommittally, then turned towards the door. She cracked it open with a vine, called something out, and a moment later the team was joined by two familiar faces.
“October? Firenze?” Mary could barely see them past the Linoone pinning her to the pillows. “What are you doing here?”
A masterball was tossed across the room in answer, landing between Mary’s feet. She frowned at it. “I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”
Firenze murmured something; October translated, “Why didn’t you tell us you had a Charizard?”
Mary raised an eyebrow, “I was never obligated to? And Truffles hates being outside her ball for no reason. It’s eat or sleep or fight with her, nothing else.”
“You said it was empty.” October pointed out.
“I never said that. I told you I carried a Masterball in case of emergencies, and I did. I also told you my family keeps a Masterball on hand to deal with Pokemon too dangerous to fight and too persistent to be avoided. I never said the ball was empty.”
Firenze spoke again, his voice sounded...harder.
October translated: “You lied by omission, then.”
Mary narrowed her eyes in response, “I did it to respect Truffle’s wishes not to be disturbed outside of dinner or emergencies. Besides, she doesn’t really consider herself my Pokemon.”
They held each others’ gazes for a minute.
“I’ve read up, and I kinda get why you might hate me, but know that I didn’t capture Truffles.” Mary slowly stroked Cinnamon’s back as she spoke. His ears were perked with interest. That was my mother. She caught her trying to poach our Mareep.”
“And she gave her to you?” October asked.
“I stole her.” Mary replied, then quickly explained, “My family doesn’t have the luxury to feed mouths that won’t work, and releasing Truffles back into the wild would mean she’d just go right back to attacking farmers in our valley.” Mary turned to stare at the ball on the bed. The Masterball was weighty, far heavier than other Pokeballs, and it sunk deep into the mattress pad. It had a sort of menace to its design Mary could never quite explain. “...I was worried she’d turn it in to our town council, and they would put her down, so when I heard about the attack I snuck back home and grabbed the ball the very next night.”
Both pokemon were looking at her, horrified. Mary got defensive. “She was killing our Mareep! What did you expect?”
“Then why didn’t you release her once you were out of the Valley?” October asked, accusation in his eyes.
Mary laughed bitterly. “She’s half-deaf, her wings are holed, she can’t stand on two legs anymore, and she’s got cataracts as thick as window panes! I release her, and she’ll be dead within a week!”
“Hmmph.” Firenze closed his eyes, thinking.
“Believe me, I spent weeks looking for a place to leave her where she’d be safe and content. But she’s too wild for nurseries and too weak for the forests, and none of the labs wanted her and she wanted nothing to do with the zoos. So...we’re sorta stuck with each other.”
Firenze surveyed the menagerie of injury that crowded around Mary and mused through October. “You have to be the strangest trainer I’ve ever met.”
Mary waived her good hand dismissively. “I’m nothing special. Most trainers’ journeys never go anywhere. I’m just the idiot who doesn’t know when to quit.” She pointed at a pile of papers sticking out of the top of her ruined backpack. “Could you hand those over? Sugar, do you have the invoices from the Pokecenter, or wherever you and Cinnamon were treated?”
Firenze carefully grabbed the paperwork and Sugar fumbled around in his new, ugly white medical bag, and a thick pile of bills was quickly assembled. Mary carefully pulled herself as upright as she could so she could count the costs of their battle while keeping her Linoone in her lap and…
Ouch.
The costs were…excessive. Ridiculous even! Surgeries for herself, a skin graft for Cinnamon, new capacitor and supplies for Sugar...Not a single one of them was under the quadruple digits, and there were maybe six of them. Mary counted up the costs in her head and despaired. ‘We can’t pay all this!’
They would have to run. First from the Yakuza, now from debt collectors. And wherever they went Honey was certain it would only be more dangerous with fewer opportunities for making a living...and this time they’d be starting at a handicap. Stresses from three days of hiking and five on her hands and knees scrubbing toilets began to return, making her joints groan and her head ache. Mary set the papers down and clung onto Cinnamon, trying to convince herself that maybe there was a way out of this...
“Why not though?”
“What?” Mary asked.
“Why not quit?” October asked again. “You clearly don’t like fighting, and you’re not actively catching Pokemon, and the stress of leading a team is literally tearing you apart!”
Mary’s gaze drifted towards her injured arm, then to Cinnamon and Sugar. “I have responsibilities. If I don’t take care of them, who will?”
October persisted, and even started to pace around her bed. “They can take care of themselves! They have jobs now, and each other, and they have friends at Plaisir who can help them. If anything, it would be easier for them alone, because they wouldn’t have to bear your financial burdens as well as their own.”
Mary shut her eyes, thinking. It was true; the only reason she still trained -or rather ‘trained’ by wandering around aimlessly between odd jobs- was for their benefit, since her family could never afford to accommodate five extra mouths and the medical expenses, and they had nowhere else to really go. But here, the roles had reversed. she had become a liability. Especially now that she was too injured for menial work...
“You could go home. Those thieves you mentioned won’t care to chase you around if you don’t have pokemon to nab,” He continued. “And your friends would be free to do whatever they wanted here. Become whatever they wanted.”
Her right arm clenched repeatedly. Home. Her own air-conditioned room and a soft bed. No more constantly scouring the towns for income, or wondering through the woods in the rain, having a heart attack every time Pepper threw herself into reckless battles...but no more grooming her pokemon on a sunny afternoon, or playing around in the parks with them, or huddling together in a sleeping bag on cool winter nights...
“I could even take you there myself, if you wanted.” October offered. “We could leave right now and you wouldn’t even need to worry about paying off the surgery!”
Firenze muttered something.
“American Hospitals are rich and their prices are bullshit. They’ll be fine!” October assured him.
That seemed to anger, or at least concern the larger fox, and the two momentarily pulled away outside to debate the ethics of fleeing a debt you couldn’t realistically pay. Which was nice, because Mary needed time to think. ‘Cinnamon and Sugar are making friends here. If they leave with me, I’ll be ripping that way from them.’ The Emolga in question was looking down, uncertain. Mary looked over at Pepper. ‘In Johto she needs me to vouch for her, and a team to be allowed in the gyms. Here, she could fight on her own.’ She looked up at Honey. ‘They probably want to follow the side with the most friends, probably…”
Her Pokemon...didn’t need her anymore! Mary shivered. She knew what she should say...but she’d miss them so much if she did. She looked around and asked, mostly to confirm what was now, in her own eyes very obvious. “Would you guys like that? To stay here, and live on your own?”
The Ninetales returned. October spoke softly, “I think it would be best for everyone if you left them here, with us. Firenze has offered to shoulder your debts if you run.”
Mary squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself to say it. She hated this...but it had never been about her. “I think that I-”
Cinnamon growled.
...
Cinnamon.
Growled.
Mary stared at him in shock. She had never heard her Linoone growl. The closest thing he’d ever shown to animosity was apprehension, and here he was giving October and Firenze a look of genuine anger. It wasn’t a particularly threatening or loud growl, but the intent was clear even without a translator: “Never!”
And just like that, the spell was broken. Sugar subtly shifted on her shoulder to lean into Mary’s neck, Pepper’s expression became determined, and she slowly pulled herself onto the gurney, Cinnamon hauled himself forward to rest his head over her shoulder, and from above Honey inched over to position themself directly above and behind her head.
“Guess we’ll be sticking it out then.” Mary whispered. She began to choke up slightly.
October shrugged. “It was just an idea.” He said casually.
Mary wasn’t sure she believed him.
Then Firenze produced an envelope from his tails and dropped it in her lap. ‘Another Bill?’
It had an official seal of some sort in the corner, and the text indicated it was from the State, which from research Mary believed was some sort of equivalent to the regions back home, if slightly larger. Mary opened it.
A check fell out.
‘Oh, Duh.’ Mary had completely forgotten about the bounty. And it wasn’t a small bounty either. Mary did some mental math.
...No, still in debt. But not quite so badly now. Now they were merely ‘struggling’ again, as opposed to ‘screwed’.
Firenze muttered something to October.
“Firenze says not to pay the bills just yet. Go back to the Café-”
“You mean the brothel?” She snarked.
“-To Plaisir and talk to Coco first. She’ll put you on the company insurance plan. That should keep your finances...livable.”
“How do you mean?”
“It’s a long story. But the prices you're looking at aren’t intended for you to pay, it's deliberately overpriced for the benefit of the insurance companies, which is why you’re having so much trouble paying it alone.”
“What? How does tha-?”
“Don’t ask. It's just how it is.”
“This world is so confusing…” Mary pinched the skin on her forehead for a moment, frustrated. “Thank you for helping us, though. I guess.”
Firenze nodded and smiled.
“If we get through this I’ll owe you both a massive…” Mary shuddered, this time with fatigue. “...favor. Is there anything else?”
Firenze gave October one last request..
“He wants you to know he’s thankful for your help taking care of ‘Eclipse’, and not to worry about it.” He relayed.
Mary could hear the quotes in his statement, and should probably have inquired. But she had the bounty in her hands and was quickly growing too exhausted to care. Maybe later, when she didn’t have so much on her mind, or when her arm was supported by her own bones instead of thick aluminum rods. “I...I think I’d like some time alone with my Family now.” She said. The Foxes nodded and bid farewell; Finally giving the girl a moment to rest.
* * *
Firenze couldn’t help taking one last peek through the door as they left. Mary had discarded a couple pillows and carefully scooted over to let Cinnamon lay alongside her, her good one arm carefully wrapped around his side. She was asleep almost before her head hit the remaining pillow, and when her face relaxed into unconsciousness she looked...younger. Smaller. Firenze had only seen Mary as a trainer until that moment, when years of stress melted off her face to reveal a child barely into her teens.
October waited until the door had closed to grumble. “Well that was a waste!”
Firenze raised an eyebrow, “You think so?”
“They’re still under her thrall. If anything, they’re closer than ever!”
Firenze hummed, thinking. “I disagree. Our intention was to give them a chance to choose their own fate, and they did. Their choice ultimately was to remain.”
“We could’ve skipped a whole lot of hassle just by letting them pass.” October said dismissively.
“And then they never would have had the opportunity to experience independence; to choose for themselves.” Firenze countered. Then he considered, “But perhaps this week wasn’t really the best example of what life is like out from under a trainer.”
October slapped the ‘down’ button on the elevator and thought aloud. “What? Terrifying, liberating, full of opportunity and disappointment and excitement in equal measures? Seems pretty spot on to me!”
“I was hoping they’d see a little more of the pleasurable sides to freedom, and perhaps a little less peril.”
“Peril is a staple of life! Better they experience it now, than later when they can’t turn back.”
Firenze bowed slightly, conceding the point. “And I suppose if any trainer deserves to keep their pokemon, it’d be the type willing to confront the likes of Eclipse to protect them.”
October didn’t comment, but his expression visibly darkened.
“...you don’t believe he’s dead, do you?”
October waited until they were alone in the Elevator to speak. “No. I think Dextus and Sinister made a mistake.”
“You think they wouldn’t recognize their own brother?”
“I think they made a mistake.” October repeated. “Nothing that Mightyena did matched what I know of him. He never went after his siblings, or mentioned them, he never tried to rape anybody, and, frankly, he died way too easily. I refuse to believe someone as powerful as Eclipse could be outmatched by a teenager with a knife!”
There was silence in the Elevator, as Firenze considered October’s wisdom. “And also because he’s your rival?” he asked.
“YES! He was my rival! And I refuse to believe he randomly died while I was gone on a fetch quest!”
“October-”
“I mean, what kind of story kills the main villain off through a random bystander while the main character is off doing unrelated busywork? It’s simply not done! Mark my words, Firenze, Eclipse will return!”
“...Smaug.”
“Grr...That doesn’t count! The Party didn’t know Smaug; he was just another obstacle. Me and Eclipse have a history for crying out loud!”
Despite October’s...unorthodox views on life, Firenze considered the implications, “Even after all you and Sinister went through, you’re still doubting her?”
October didn’t answer.
“Because if you are correct, then that would mean she’s lying.”
“I...don’t know.” October admitted. “But I do know he’s still out there.”
Firenze grunted. “Feel free to look for him if you wish, but keep it between us unless you have hard evidence for me. Now would be the worst time for the rumor mill to turn, to give us more problems.”
October nodded gravely.
The elevator doors opened, and the Ninetales slowly ambled through the lobby, where Clarice was waiting with their luggage, frowning.
“Our flight leaves in under two hours.” She noted with thinly-veiled annoyance.
“It had to be done.” Firenze didn’t stop moving, grabbing his bag and trusting the Glaceon to follow him as he made for the exit. He looked back at October. “We’ll be gone for about two weeks. Try not to break anything while we’re gone.”
“No promises!” October replied with a grin. “But I thought you said the conference would only take a few days. Why the sudden change of plans?”
Firenze produced a slip of paper from his tails and offered it to October. “I owe some people an apology, both personally and as the representative of the Café. I want to put the past behind us for good before we start looking towards the future.”
It was a list: names, four home addresses, and some notes on the nature of their complaints. There were about a dozen in total, with four circled in bright red ink.
“Those in red are Eclipse’s known victims, specifically.” Firenze explained. “The rest are more minor complaints. Issues with management or the work culture or somesuch.”
October quickly scanned them and asked, “How did you find these?”
“Nikki, of course. Though I couldn’t tell you how, and I’d have to consult our Lawyers before deciding if I wanted to know.”
“And you think you can convince them to take down the reviews?”
“It’s not about that. It's about doing the right thing. They deserve an apology; A lot more than an apology even. But if an apology is all I can offer, then an apology is what they’ll get. And if they-” Firenze exaggerated the roll of his shoulders to shrug as he walked. “And if they think I’m sincere, maybe they’ll consider revising their reviews.”
“I still think it's a waste of money.” Clarice interjected. “It’s not like taking those reviews down erases them from memory. I believe Nikki even mentioned some sort of internet archive people could use if they really wanted dirt on us.”
“It's the right thing to do.” Firenze repeated. His voice was soft, but when he turned to look at Clarice, crimson eyes bored straight through her. “And so it shall be done.”
And on that note, they went their separate ways.
* * *
Epilogue
* * *
They say time heals all wounds. ‘They’ are a bunch of very lethargic liars. A wound left untended does not heal; It merely festers, then rots and eventually kills. Plaisir had left wounds unaddressed for ages and the infection had almost left the brothel debilitated. But now the wounds were at last being cared for.
In time, they would heal.
Cinnamon carefully padded out Plaisir’s front entrance, pausing briefly to enjoy the warm breeze on his newly exposed fur. The skin on his flanks had healed perfectly, but the fur was still growing in, and what fur was there along his back had been mashed flat and mussed up by the bandages. Between that and the missing eyes, he knew he must have looked like a wreck.
He didn’t care. It was just so nice to feel fresh natural air on his skin after weeks of bedrest indoors!
The sound of his saddle being dragged against the concrete heralded the return of his best friend. Sugar offered a quick greeting to Minka, the not-actually-new door guard now that Wraith had gone home, before heaving the leather and nylon over Cinnamon’s back. His movements were awkward and stiff, and Cinnamon had the feeling his friend’s gut wound wasn’t quite healed yet, even if the skin overtop was smooth. .
Sugar hid his discomfort; insisted on going on a run, even though it was obvious he was hurting. Cinnamon appreciated that even as he listened in concern as Sugar grunted in pain to reach underneath his stomach and buckle the harness on. “Is he coming?” Cinnamon asked.
“We got a couple more minutes.” Sugar replied. He paused, then tugged at the reins “C’mon, We’ll meet him by the bus stop.”
The bus was already present and idling when they arrived, and Cinnamon could hear familiar voices over the rumbling of the engine. Elegance and Pepper: They were arguing, though the tones of voice involved suggested exasperation and reluctance more than anger. It was difficult to be sure what with the smell of engine exhaust, but Cinnamon thought he could smell Hastur and Omen there as well. He got his confirmation as they rounded the back of the bus.
“-ust don’t know.”
“You have been sulking in your room for weeks. It is well past time to move on.”
“It’s just not-I’m not feeling it.”
“Training is not about how you feel; it’s about honing yourself. Improving yourself.”
Pepper sighed, “...I don’t think I deserve to improve right now.”
Elegance just snorted. “And there you go, being selfish again!”
“W-what?” Pepper sputtered.
“Training is not just about your enjoyment. Your family depends on you. They need you to be strong. Your family does not have time to indulge your self-inflicted penance.”
There was a brief pause, then Honey spoke, their voice rattling out of their newly refurbished disguise, now feature complete with a ‘tail’ fashioned from an old drain cleaner and a tennis ball. “are needed. go train.”
“Yeah, Pepper! Who else will defend us if we end up on the road again?” Cinnamon added encouragingly.
“And we could really use the Gym money to help pay for Mary’s food n’ stuff.” Sugar finished.
Pepper considered it for a moment. “...Fine, I’ll come with you! But I’m not doing any sparring until Mary’s cast comes off…” Her tone grew playful, “...at which point I’ll think I’ll have you eating dirt!”
“I am looking forward to it.” Elegance replied, smoothly. She turned and climbed up into the Bus cabin.
“You both good to meet us at the hospital, then?” Sugar asked.
“Yea, 3:00pm, primary entrance. You remember where it is?” Steel rattled as Pepper gripped the bus’s door for support in preparation to ascend the steps.
Sugar reached around and patted the folded-up map fixed to the back of the saddle. “We’re good!”
“And you got the go-phone, in case of trouble?”
“Yep!”
“Alright…” Pepper turned her attention to the Mimikyu, “And you’ll be okay out in the woods, Honey?”
“yes.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to go meet Mary with us?” Pepper asked.
“responsibilities.”
“It’s only a quick checkup on the portal. We’ll be back by this evening.” Omen promised. “If we have time, Honey and I will prepare the room in Pro[sup]2[/sup]creations for your return.”
Curt nods were exchanged, and Pepper ascended the steps of the bus. “See you downtown!” She called.
Any responses were obscured by the roar of the engine as the bus began rolling down the road.
“Ready, Honey?” Omen asked.
“yes.” They replied. A quick pat on Cinnamon’s head and a hesitant fistbump with Sugar, and the duo quickly set off into the undergrowth eastward, leaving Cinnamon and Sugar alone.
Cinnamon idly shifted his weight from leg to leg as they waited. Finally, everything seemed to be looking up for them! Stable incomes, no more getting chased around or randomly assaulted by pokenappers, most everyone at the Café seemed nice...but...something was troubling him. Something seemed...off.
“‘Who’s Eclipse?” Sugar suddenly said aloud.
“Hmm?”
“It’s something that Mightyena said: ‘Who’s Eclipse?’”
“I thought he was Eclipse, though. Didn’t his brother and sister and the police all confirm it?”
“Yeah, but...why would he say that if it's his own name?” Sugar pondered aloud. “And Prometheus called him Eclipse, too.”
They sat there in the grass next to the Bus Stop, pondering.
“...Maybe it was Honey’s curse? Like, it was stripping his identity?” Cinnamon proposed.
“Maybe…” Sugar’s voice turned grim, “Or maybe they were mistaken. What if that wasn’t Eclipse?”
“...”
“...”
Sugar felt Cinnamon’s muscles tensing reflexively, and forced himself to relax; to think through this logically. “If that wasn’t Eclipse...I’m not sure it matters.” He decided.
“What?”
“Eclipse or not, that was definitely the same Mightyena Honey cursed, and the only creature around Plaisir to threaten anybody. So as far as our safety is concerned, we’ve still resolved the issue of the Mightyena hunting us for food whatever his name or past deeds were.”
”But where’s Eclipse then? The ‘real’ Eclipse?” Cinnamon asked.
Sugar shrugged, “Probably running around in some other forest, where he doesn’t have to fear regular bounties.”
“Do you think we should tell someone?”
Sugar considered it for a moment. “...There’s no point in getting everyone stirred up over the ravings of a crazy rambling Mightyena; not when we, total strangers to the guy, have no proof one way or another who he actually was.”
“Oh,” Cinnamon remained tense. “But what about Eclipse?”
“Relax!” Sugar rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’ll keep a lookout, we got a phone. And if anything really bad happens, we have our feet.”
“Are you sure?”
“Trust me!”
“Of course.” Cinnamon paused and perked his ears toward the cafe. “...Where are they?”
Sugar stretched atop the saddle and twisted back to look at the Café’s front door. “No idea, man!”
Cinnamon was starting to get nervous. “Do you think something went wrong?”
Sugar grunted, unsure. “Maybe he was-wait, no! Here they...come?”
The front door flew open, shouts and screams of surprise echoed across the parking lot and a rush of air and overexcited yelling sent Cinnamon reeling backwards as something black and orange and beige flew past them at speeds normally reserved for cruise missiles and nasty rumors.
“[sub]HeyCinnamon!HeySugar[/sub]CheckitoutICANRUNAGAINKINDAWHOOOHOOOO!RACEYOUguystotown[sub]loosersbuyIcecreaaaam![/sub]”
Sugar stared. Cinnamon gaped. Then they laughed, and with a flick of the reins took off running after Prometheus, Quippie whooping and hollering atop his back.
Nobody noticed the shadow lurking just beyond the southern tree line.
Glaring at them all hatefully.
With a single, yellow eye.
To be continued in October Flixard’s Under Blue Moonlight.
