LOOSE ENDS:
A Day in Mobotropolis
Tied Together Revisited

11:30 AM:
Speech Prep

Author's Note: The story is exactly what it is titled: loose ends. Way back when, I used to write truly baffling fanfiction on this site. I come back now, for less than a week, for one last hurrah. I chose to rewrite and recreate Tied Together not because it is wasn't a good piece of fiction, but to finally give it an end. In a day, everything can change. In years, my writing style has. Please notify me if I still can write any of these characters (will anyone read this thing?) and if my informal writing style still has any quality to it. ;) Thanks and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Self-explanatory.

"...but there are times that warrant us to look back. Today, as we celebrate the progress our people have made, the shape this city has taken, let us not forget the lives that were lost, the sacrifices made that allowed us to get to this point. To the veterans of the Great War, the original Freedom Fighters standing alongside us, to all the survivors of those once trying times, look around you. The city we once dreamed of is now a reality because of your relentless courage, faith, and determination. This city--home and haven--is now a reality because you never once thought of giving up on the battlefield or during reconstruction. The safety and security--prosperity and peace we longed for we now have--for ourselves and future generations. But I ask you now not to look to our bright future today but tomorrow. I ask you now not to mourn today the past of yesterday. New Mobotropolis, I ask you to now to take a moment to enjoy the moment. As we connect the past with the present, as we see all we have done constructing the buildings around us, only then will be be able to see all we can do in them--all we will do for our future," A girl cleared her throat, setting a paper down. The sun shone outside the small cramped room, banners waving in the window. Her blue eyes stared at the glass.

Outside, a crowd was forming, a crowd she would soon be apart of. A platform was set, a podium was centered, balloons and color engulfed the buildings around the area, around their town square. There was a bit of pride when she thought of it as a possessive. Theirs--no one else's. True to her speech, they had fought for it for many years. She had led the battles with a steadfast fervor, the knowledge that her people were relying on her for leadership and guidance. She sat back. Somehow they succeeded. It was hard for her to fathom the person she had to be in the battlefield. The excitement, the thrill, it never left her and granted, she would never forget the near death experiences she had courtesy of some people's inability to pay attention to debriefings or something along the lines of plans...

Nonetheless, as Sally Acorn clutched a pen in her gloved fist, used the red marks to stain her speech with oratory notes, she couldn't help but reflect on how the leadership she once channeled on the battlefield was now channeled into tackling red tape, establishing (albeit gradually) a stable constitutional monarchy, and emboldening a group of former combatants into political activism. The tasks were daunting, the entire post-war society formation a stunning little case study for any future comparative government or political science textbook. The Great War had broken everything and true to the leader she had been before, she again volunteered to somehow hold the pieces together. Same Sally, she assured herself as she glanced down at the sleek red hair falling past her shoulders, laboriously curled on the ends; same girl, she told herself, examining the ruffle of some feminine frock a stylist chose, forcibly put on her; she was still the same Sally, the same girl and commander, she had been before. The role was just in slightly different presentation.

She shut her eyes. She was in the cramped newspaper office, isolated, secluded from the common. It was all she could do to convince herself sometimes that she didn't miss the way things were before--that she didn't miss the notion of an adventure, the anxiety and rush she got whenever she commanded on the field. Her words held impact then. They were the difference between a successful mission and a failed raid. Now they were just glorified rhetoric.

Glorified rhetoric she was presenting in less than twenty minutes. "Tails," she articulated, watching her aptly-named, surrogate nephew hover over a bookshelf. "You don't think it's too much, do you? The ending, I mean, it's not too contradicting with the points I made earlier in the speech? I'm just concerned that--"

"Huh?" the boy looked over, rising an eyebrow. He lowered, shyly glancing at his two tails before staring at his 'aunt.' Granted, he was a little older, nearing the puberty checkpoint he had dreaded so much during his early childhood. He still remembered the war pretty clearly though. It was horrible and--

"You weren't listening, were you?" she shook her head, eyeing the paper. "Honestly! Between you and Sonic, I'm not sure who holds the record for ignoring Sally the most."

The fox looked a little hurt, "No way, Princess Sally, I don't even come close to Sonic! It's--well, his mind was always in other places, and--"

"Relax honey, I'm only teasing." She frowned slightly at the title. Between the wardrobe and political speeches, she had enough reminder the word suddenly meant something. It wasn't that she wanted to disregard it completely, it was the fact that somehow it prevented her from having equal footing with everyone else, hence her current alienation. In war, she was one in the same. Post-war, she was a crown jewel, decorated and held sacred. She took a deep breath. Now wasn't the time for repulse. She needed to stay light--to compose herself before her big keynote. "Besides," she suggested, a savory tone, "Sonic set the record a long time ago. I was lucky if something I said processed through his thick little head once weekly."

"I guess," he shrugged, "But you don't have that problem with me, honest! And you never will! I will always listen! I'm not you know, him..." He heaved a sigh. Somewhere in that tone, it seemed he wish he was.

Sonic. The one who had everything. The one who could skip town and just never come back and still have everyone love him. Sally talked about him enough. Tails sighed. It was a little hard, that was all. Sure, he received letters from his former big brother on occasion, but after so many missed birthdays, the boy realized something: the hedgehog was never coming back.

And good riddance too, Tails just had to keep telling himself. He was finally doing things on his own. The kid, something of a prodigy, was making a name for himself. No longer was he T2 or 'Lil Bro,' he was now simply Tails, on occasion Miles Prower. Through mentoring with Rotor (one of the Freedom Fighters and ace mechanics who had actually stuck around) and taking classes, he was becoming the top of the line. He didn't have to hide behind the shadow of his hero anymore, which was good. He looked at his aunt, a bashful smile appearing. It was actually really good.

He didn't fully understand why, really. Maybe it was the way she looked at him or the way she kissed his cheek. He liked having Sally to himself. She spent a fair amount of time with him, enough time to warrant his staying with her, getting past Antoine and her other guards, and helping her rehearse speeches. She trusted him. Not Sonic, because Sonic wasn't reliable and never would be. Sonic was never coming back. Never ever, no matter how close his letters said he was.

The fox nodded, lost in his thoughts. Never ever. And they coped. And life went on because the hedgehog, contrary to his own beliefs, was not the center of everything.

"Prinzess Sally, 'ive minutes!" the thick French accent shot from the door. Antoine D'Coolette stuck his head in. "And en mon avis, 'ze speech was vraiment splendid!"

The boy looked baffled. He had figured Antoine was done sucking up to Sally. Granted, during the Great War, which was ages ago, sort of, Antoine had liked her. But now he was moving on, at least Tails thought he was. Well, Antoine did have Bunnie. And then Sonic, well, Sonic had everyone else.

Tails just had to stop thinking of him.

"Is it good, Tails?" Sally asked again, extending the paper. The kid skimmed it.

"It's great, Sally. Full of rhetoric and your presentation is great. It always is! You're going to do just great, really!" He was gushing at this point. He honestly had no clue he was until after.

Sally stood up. "I'm ready, Antoine. Let's do it to it!" A nostalgic smile between the two. Tails couldn't help but feel a bit of pride, catching the reference. Sally, Antoine, and the other guards walked out, the princess waving.

"You'll look for me...?" Tails offered. It was something of a tradition.

"Every time." And she vanished.

Every speech Tails listened to, Tails and the other Freedom Fighters who had actually stayed (big emphasis there), would all stand together. United as a support system, Tails would lead them to the back of the crowd where they'd wave. They'd applaud, no matter how horrendous the speeches would go. Tails thought hard. Come to think of it, they had never gone bad once. It was Princess Sally speaking, after all. Not Sonic the Hedgehog...

The fox opened the door and emerged into the streets. He was confident today would be no different.

He was wrong.