Capricorn
It may be necessary to review the amount spend on a hobby - or to advise a group of friends that they're taking you into financial territory for which you're not yet prepared. Contact with someone in the healing profession could prove exceptionally useful - especially when they offer a tip that will save you both time, money - and probably a journey.
"Look, guys. I'm gonna have to skip out," he says gently. If he had a hat, he'd be wringing it in his hands.
"Whaaaat? Come on, Tails! We spent so much time getting this organised! How long didya think it took us to contact Shadow, for goodness' sake?" Sonic whines. He's got a point, and that's what makes it annoying.
"Yeah. We all need a guys' night. Well, a guy's mid-afternoon, anyway. Builds comraderie for the next time Eggman decides to spring somethin' on us. It's a 'brothers in arms' kinda thing. With nachos," Knuckles says helpfully.
"...Hmph," Shadow said- or didn't say? Hard to tell. He didn't seem overly pleased to be there.
"I know, guys, but, I can't afford this stuff. Any of this stuff. I thought we'd be eating somewhere, I don't know, maybe a little more downmarket..." Tails carries on, hoping desperately they won't notice the flaw in his argument.
"Downmarket? Tails, this is as downmarket as we can get. They've practically got bar stools set out for the roaches," Knuckles quips. He's right. But that wasn't the reason Tails was trying to skip out. The real reason lay in a rare machine component and a misunderstanding about what 'food money' was meant to be used for.
"Leave him alone. If he doesn't wish to rub shoulders with you and the faker, then I don't blame him," Shadow says dangerously, his patience already reaching breaking point.
"S'not like he's tall enough to rub shoulders with me," Knuckles points out, and pats Tails on the head. Sonic just waves and goes back to reading the menu. It shouldn't take long. There are only five things on it.
"...In about five seconds, I intend to be fifty miles from this...squat. You may accompany me if you provide a decent excuse. I don't want to be talking about something this ridiculous the next time Eggman invades," Shadow mutters to him darkly. With the smallest movement perceptible, he nods and begins his routine.
"Well, actually, guys, the real reason I didn't wanna come was...Well, I'm, uh, really ill, with, um, Kitsune's Disease, and I might, y'know, chuck up everywhere. In fact, I think I need to go to hospital," he says, punctuating it with a little cough at the end.
"Kitsune's Disease? Oh, I've heard of it- about two-thousand years ago in the annals of the Echidna tribe," Knuckles replies, and Tails' back squirms with the feeling of being caught out. "You're right, though- if you've got Kitsune's disease, you need hospital, and bad. You die in about four days, if I remember correctly."
"And it would be foolish to let our only scientist die to a disease when Eggman's still out there," Shadow breaks in, a dark smile playing around his mouth. "I'll take him. I wasn't planning on spending any time with my lookalike, anyway."
"You know, Knuckles," Sonic says seconds after the green flash of Chaos Control has died down, "I think we've been duped."
"Maybe," Knuckles admits. "I think Shadow was trying to pretend he was still a jerk, when really he's worried about the little guy."
"That wasn't quite what I meant..."
A brief flash of Chaos Control later, they arrived in the hospital. He sniffs. The smell of chlorine and bleach is offensive to a highly tuned nose. It isn't usually this bad, though.
"Tails? And...Shadow?" a familiar voice says behind them.
After the initial shock of seeing Amy, Cream and a very, very irritated Rouge in nurse's uniforms ("What? We can't have a girl's day out? We were gonna go shopping, but Cream decided to help the community, and we weren't gonna leave her here all on her own!") they eventually got around to making excuses about why they left Sonic and Knuckles. Predictably, Shadow and Rouge took the opportunity to get out of dodge.
"Well, I just didn't have enough money. I'm living on noodles this week, I guess," he says sheepishly.
"Oh, Tails. How can you be a genius if you can't even budget?" Amy chides gently.
"Well, some people are willing to starve for their art," he sniffs.
"Machines aren't art."
"Let's not get into that argument again..."
"You know, Tails," Cream says seriously, "You could always out at the hospital. We're a hand down since Miss Rouge and Shadow left, and we get free lunches."
He grimaced. He thought he'd skipped over janitor work, having invented a floor which even the stickiest of scientific residues would wash off. Apparently not.
"You do know what this means, right, Tails?" Amy says with just a slight hint of menace. "I'm your superior. And, as a man, you should be the one who gets toilet duty. You're used to cleaning disgusting things off the floor, anyways."
He groans, and takes the rag Amy's offering to him. Next time, he'll skip on buying that new engine.