"Something Worth Fighting For"

By: SnapDragon

There always seemed to be a clamoring around the guild at this hour.

Teams rushed to turn in their work before the Girafarig shaped building would close. Older teams, newer teams; there was never a lack of work that needed to be done and pokemon to finish said work. This was common. With the sun setting, the traffic had slowed to a crawl and the last of the jobs had been completed. A Yamask—the guild receptionist—phased through the walls of the building and flipped the sign on the door. It now read "closed."

Before the Yamask phased back through however, the ghost and a Servine made eye contact. The grass type was sitting on a low stone brick wall off to the side of the cobblestone trail leading to the guild. The Yamask raised an eyebrow at the Servine as he observed the pokemon chewing on his own vine, staring off into space.

Strangely enough, the ghost recalled seeing this exact Servine many times before. A quiet pokemon—he would usually allow his teammates to do most of the talking. While the Yamask had nothing against this Servine or any problems with him loitering about, Yamask felt inclined to remind him that this wasn't a safe hangout spot at this hour. Thieves have been known to make attempts to sneak in more than once before…

So the Yamask waved wordlessly at the Servine to get his attention. The action worked...eventually. Servine seemed very engrossed in fiddling with his own appendages. So much so that he jumped when he realized that someone was waving at him. Almost as if the eye contact didn't register at all.

Yamask continued with a "what are you doing here?" gesture, to which Servine spit out his vine and spoke just loud enough for the ghost to hear.

"Waiting for someone. Won't be long."

Yamask nodded. That was good enough for him.

Simon the Servine watched the Yamask phase through the guild's door and out of sight. Now alone once more, Simon waited for a few quiet moments to pass. He felt a little awkward after being so slow to react to the Yamask. This was nothing new of course; Simon had always been absent minded. There's a reason why he's not the leader of his team despite being the oldest.

The Servine had never been great at paying attention for long. Even now, as he closely examined the intricacies of the cracks and dents found in the path's cobblestone, he couldn't help himself from constructing imaginary Onixes (Onixi?) with his mind. Simon slowly drifted his eyes across the path, patiently watching the stones for unique shapes that would best serve his imagination.

Simon once again pulled his left side vine from its socket and twirled it around in his grassy fingertips. An impulsive action; Simon had told himself to stop not two minutes ago, but did not realize that he had already broken his own promise. This was a regular occurrence for Simon. Even at the ripe old age of 21, he had never been able to break his old habits.

He hated that this was the case.

A gust of wind blew delicately against Simon's smooth scales. His tail flicked and swept across the stone, catching dirt. Simon felt it immediately and went to clean himself. Getting dirty is one of Simon's many pet peeves. He would tend to, against the complaints of his teammates, opt out of battle or dungeon diving if it meant there was a chance that he would get dirty. Of course, as he made the action to dust the dirt off of his tail, he noticed the vine in his hand, and got angry.

Simon felt the leaves on his back stiffen in frustration. Can he do nothing right? Why even bother being an adventurer if he can't even control himself while sitting still? Gah! And now his back itches! Simon gripped his vine intensely and tossed it with all of his strength. He immediately regretted it. Forgetting that the vine was in fact attached to his own body, the vine was flung forward then slung back into its sheath. But not before whacking Simon square on the cheek.

Ouch. That must have hurt.

The grass type cried in pain as he cradled his own face in his knees. Red hot irritation coursed through his entire body which only served to make him more uncomfortable. It was so annoying, so aggravating, that Simon felt that he might scream. In fact…

"AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"

"Simon?"

Simon opened his eyes and peered out from behind his fingers. In his anger fueled trip through boredom, he had forgotten about what he had come here to do in the first place. Simon had been waiting for a Magneton. A Magneton much like the one in front of Simon right now. Simon's entire demeanor seemed to relax, though the lingering feeling of discomfort swiftly became replaced with embarrassment.

Simon greeted the Mangeton. "H-hey, Max," he said bashfully.

Maxwell's top eye blinked, a sign that they had gotten the message. At the same time, Maxwell's right Magnemite turned their outer magnets. Left once. Right once. A sign that they were anxious or uneasy? Reading those are always the hardest. The screw on Maxwell's left Magnemite then jutted in and out three times over the course of a couple seconds. Simon had already determined that Maxwell does that whenever the two of them see each other. It's a small habit, but serves to remind Simon that he's not alone in his ways.

And finally, their voice. It was as if Maxwell spoke through aluminum foil three times, all at once. When they're in a bad mood, it can be hard to understand them, what with their voices speaking in different tones and rates. If they're in a good mood however, Maxwell sounds perfectly coherent. Pleasant even.

When Maxwell gave his own greeting, his mood was somewhere in between. This can be complicated, but Simon surmised that if Maxwell's mood were to be judged from 100 to 0 with good being 100 and 0 being bad, Maxwell would have to be around 80 to 75 at the moment. Coherent but a little muddled.

Speaking of...speaking…

"Hello, Simon. Are you alright?" they buzzed, pushing their right screw inward. "Why were you screaming?"

Simon nervously clawed his shoulders for a grip on his vines, stopping himself half way. "Um...it's nothing, Max," Simon muttered. "Don't worry about it."

Clearly, they did worry about it. Their right eye blinked slowly and their top magnets shifted forward. They floated closer to Simon, rising from the ground to better meet his level. "We noticed your agitation," Maxwell said softly with a mood level of 90 or so. "Is something the matter? You can tell us anything. We will always listen. Bzzt!"

Maxwell has a tendency to let out a sharp buzzing noise every so often. It's not exactly a habit like Simon's ticks, but rather an inherent part of Magneton speech patterns. Simon hated it, though he could never find the courage to say how much it bothered him even after the many months that they had known each other. And no matter how hard he tried, Simon couldn't stop himself from flinching, silently cursing at himself for letting it slip.

Maxwell was visibly alarmed to see such a reaction, their magnets drooping and eyes widening, electricity crackling faintly.

Simon held up his hands and shook his head frantically. "No no please, you're fine! Don't worry about me, I'm just…" Simon sighed, "kind of...on edge today…"

Maxwell floated even closer, the faint sound of mechanical whirring noises becoming more pronounced as they did. "Simon...did something happen today? Bz...zz…" The Magneton jerked their body after the last sentence, stifling their own bodily autonomy for Simon's sake.

...It didn't work. Simon was taken aback as Maxwell abruptly jostled themself, their magnets flailing in every direction. The Servine could only watch as the Magneton recognized the foolishness in the gesture and stopped to let out a very muddled sigh. "We are sorry," they said at around 40 percent, "that was stupid of us..."

Simon scratched his collar, jumping when he scratched a vine too harshly. "U-uh...don't be sorry, M-Max," he stuttered. "You were thinking of me and I...appreciate that."

"We were!" they declared with sparks dancing off their magnets. "Anything for you, Simon! BZZT!"

Simon flinched. Again.

Maxwell's eyes immediately became downcast, their magnets going limp. "We...we will stop talking now…"

"No...Max…" Simon whined. "It's not your...you just can't help it." The Servine shifted uncomfortably on the stone. "Just...h-how have you been?"

"..." Maxwell stiffened, their three eyes locking onto Simon. A screw on both the left side and right side Magnemites were pushed in and out.

Maxwell was being apprehensive, Simon realized. The Magneton didn't want to make Simon any more uncomfortable than he already was. "Max...it's fine." He rubbed the leaf on his tail.

"..." Maxwell still refused to speak. And now the Magneton was trembling slightly.

Without another option, Simon made the conscious decision to do something stupid. He looked down at the ground at the base of the stone wall, gulped, and sidled closer to the edge. Maxwell watched him with eyes wide and electricity crackling.

Simon eventually built up the courage to hop off, his frail limbs hitting the cobblestone, sending a jolt of pain up his body.

Maxwell was there in a heartbeat. "S-Simon!" they buzzed, supporting the grass type with their weight.

"I-it's okay," Simon uttered, "my fault for p-putting myself in that kinda situation."

At around 30 percent, "We would have let you ride us down! Bz-zz…"

Simon didn't flinch that time. He usually gets used to it after awhile.

Despite himself, Simon giggled softly. "Heheh, Th-that wouldn't have worked, sil-ah!"

The Servine had tried to gently caress their metal, but only received an unintentional shock in return. The gesture didn't even register with Maxwell. In fact, it only seemed to make them more concerned, their bolts shooting out in alarm.

Maxwell swiftly floated back and Simon was left to wallow on the cobblestone. He shakily raised himself to his feet, shook off any stray dirt, took a bit too long to check if he got it all, then faced the Magneton with a sad frown.

"We're sorry, Simon. We're such a mess…" 20 percent. Simon could just barely make out what they said.

Simon shook his head. "Max...we do this every time we meet up. It's okay...that..." he trailed off. He stopped before he could make things worse.

With their screws all pushed in, Maxwell let out a muddled sigh. They then said something under their breath (implying they breathe) that Simon couldn't understand.

"H-huh? What was that, Max?" Simon anxiously scratched at his scales as he spoke.

Maxwell brought their eyes back to meet Simon's, which seemed to calm them down some. A swivel of the bottom right magnet, 40-ish percent. "We...got promoted."

The Servine's eyes went wide. "You did? Max, that's….that's great!" he exclaimed. "I'm so happy for you! You've been working at that for...5 months now?"

Electricity crackled in confirmation, 55 percent. "Yes! Bzzt!" Maxwell's magnets lit up, 60 percent. Their voices were becoming more coherent by the second. "We have been taking extra work for the sake of it."

"I...I'm happy for you, Max," Simon said with a smile, twirling a vine between his leafy fingers. "You deserve all the appreciation you can get."

The Magneton's magnets lit up again, but only the red lights this time. They shot up to 90 percent. "We thank you, Simon," they beeped. "It has been...a long time in the making...bzz." For some reason, Maxwell's voice dropped considerably by the end of the sentence. Simon just happened to notice.

"What's wrong?" Simon asked, clutching his vine tight.

50 percent. "We...are tired. There has not been ample time to recharge in quite a number of days."

"What? Why?"

"..." Maxwell avoided eye contact, their magnets angled down.

"M-Max?" Simon stuttered.

Back to 40 percent. "We have been...working overtime."

"Wha-what? Max, you know how dangerous that can-"

The harsh crackling of Maxwell's many voices forced Simon to stop what he was saying. 25 percent or so. "We...know. BZZZT!" The last word came out as nothing more than a garbled collection of sounds. Realizing this, Maxwell took a second to compose themselves. They managed to bring themselves up to 35 percent, their magnets swiveling uncomfortably. "We...wanted to…"

Simon stayed silent and waited for Maxwell to finish. He couldn't help himself from fiddling with his vines.

Sheepishly, Maxwell floated closer to the Servine, their left side screws jutting in and out 3 times. "We...wanted to become more secure," they said, 45 percent. Maxwell's ride side magnets swiveled slowly. "Now at our level, we can afford a larger place to live...bzz. A place...for us and you."

Simon blinked and dropped his vine, letting it sling back into his collar. "A-a place for us? Wait, you mean…"

"Yes. We are ready to move in together."

Simon's heart soured. This had been a grievance he had had since he started seeing the Magneton. They always had to make time for each other, compare schedules and the like. Being on two separate teams meant they already had registered sleeping quarters; there wasn't enough room for either of them to move over without causing any problems for their team or their teammates. Simon always felt that their time apart would only make things more difficult. And it did. Simon hated having to account for their meetings all the time, even if he did truly enjoy the Magneton's company.

But now, with a place to call their own, that wasn't a concern. Explaining it to their teammates would be though and…

Simon grimaced. "That's wonderful, Max," he said, "b-but are you sure-"

"YES! BZZT!" they exclaimed. "You mean the world to us, Simon! You give us something to fight for! Something to look forward to! We would throw away everything if it meant being with you more often!" All the way up to 80 percent.

Simon felt a warmth in his heart. He knew that Maxwell appreciated him as a partner, but...this was more than he was expecting. They've only known each other for a few months! He felt a little awkward and excited at the same time. For the first time tonight, Simon had nothing to do with his hands. They fell to his sides. "M-Max…you can't mean that..."

Maxwell floated even closer until they were at eye level with their top eye and Simon's eyes meeting, inches from each other. "Simon," they whispered softly, "we have never felt so strongly about anything else in our entire lives. We might be a construct unable to experience true affection, but you are like a precious resource to us. We cannot function properly without you. We...love you, Simon."

100 percent.

Simon was silent for a few moments, unsure of what to say. His eyes were beginning to wetten from the tears and he blinked several times. Eventually, the Servine whispered very quietly, "Max, I-"

"BZZZZZZZT!"

Maxwell's magnets flailed frantically and they released a loud buzzing noise. Simon was surprised to say the least, the loud noise sending him falling back onto the cobblestone.

"S-Simon!" Maxwell hovered down to check on him, their magnets drooping in concern. "We are so sorry! We had to hold that in to not ruin the moment! We are so, so…why are you laughing?"

Simon, lying on the cobblestone, was in fact laughing. Hysterically even. "HAHAHAHA! Max, you're such a dork!"

Maxwell merely floated there in confusion.

After a few more seconds of laughing, Simon sat up and wiped a tear out of his eye. "Ah...aha...ah...Max, do you want to go to the old electrical complex?"

"E-electrical complex?" they balked at 70 percent. "But we thought you hated it there?"

Simon did hate it there. He hated the way the latent electricity in the air made his scales feel and how his leaves would fray. But he was willing to bear with it if it meant that his partner could get some rest. So the Servine stood up and held out an arm. "I can deal with it if it's for you. Oh, and Max?"

Maxwell looked up, their left side screws pushing in and out. "Yes, Simon?" 90 percent.

Simon smiled, the oranges of the setting sun backlighting his glittering scales. "I love you too."