A/N
Meow
This was meant to go up on my birthday, but we all know how lazy I am by now, so several weeks late we go!
Thanks for reviewing, Ravengal! We've now officially matched The Golden Watch in terms of review count. So exciting. We're going into the end-game now. Thanks for sticking with me, all of you who have. Genuinely never thought I'd ever get this far with any story, but now that I have, I can only thank you all for making it possible.
Salami ducked under the book sailing toward his head, only to be plonked against his temple by a wayward case. He shook a paw angrily toward the corner of the room.
Shallot continued shouting in rage, occasionally attacking or lobbing a nearby object. It was only when an empty pop can thunked Salami's forehead that the ninetales finally spoke up.
"Hey! Mind where you're having your little baby tantrum, will you?"
The braixen turned to let loose a low growl toward Salami, taking a threatening step forward.
"Shut up!" Shallot demanded. He yelped in surprise upon losing his balance, face-planting into the carpeted floor of their makeshift bedroom.
Salami gave a snort, a small plume of fire illuminating his face.
"Look at yourself, Shalls. Do you not see how fucking pathetic you look?" The ninetales' annoyed glare soon met with his friends' hateful look. "You can't be throwing a fit every time something doesn't go your damned way. Not even the Sherbert situation was excusable, but this is just a new low for you. You're gonna hurt someone!"
The braixen got back up, visibly shaking.
"I won't! I won't hurt anyone!"
Salami gave a deadpan stare.
"You've struck me with six different objects in the last forty-five minutes. One of which was intentional, might I add."
"I can make it seven if you'd prefer!"
"Oh, yeah, threaten me now. Real mature."
Shallot's piercing gaze only narrowed further. His fist shot outward to strike a book-shelf, letting an audible crack fill the room.
"You don't get it! You just don't get it!" Shallot huffed. He turned around, abruptly flopping face-first into the bottom bunk of the bed.
Salami turned to give a light psychic flick to the light-switch, letting the room dim to a darker state of lighting. Before he looked away, he caught sight of the door cracking open, a minccino poking her head inside. They both shared a gaze, Tart's worried and Salami's pleading. Their expressions both soon took on one of mutual understanding, with the gray pokémon walking into the room.
Salami moved to lay against Shallot's side, as Tart hopped up to gently stroke his back.
"Oh, Shallot..." Tart murmured soothingly. "You mustn't be so... Combative."
Shallot gave a loud groan, eliciting a wince from the minccino and a sigh from the ninetales.
"We failed another mission!" wailed the braixen, his voice muffled by his face-full of pillow. "We've failed every single one!"
"That isn't true," Salami reasoned. "You, uh, helped free your family, and Tartsy, from those Uprising guys."
Shallot turned to give a one-eyed glare.
"That was mostly just cleaning up our mess," huffed the braixen. "Plus, we had countless other 'mons on our side. Defeat was impossible."
"Shallot," Tart urged, "do not focus so much on the negatives. Be more focused upon the good we have done, and be more understanding of our situation." She stroked his cheek with a paw. "We are but a rookie team still, and we faced impossible odds. Even if ended in failure, the fact that we were so close to stopping that sandshrew should be a testament to our talent."
The braixen sat upwards, shooting a scowl toward Tart. She backed up a bit, falling off from the bed in the process.
"Oh, talent, eh?" Shallot snarked, crossing his arms. "Is that what you call us totally sucking? Hey, maybe if you two pulled your weight more, I wouldn't have had t'save your asses. I don't know what your excuse was, Salami, but Tart, you need to get over your daddy issues."
Tart felt her ears and tails droop, before she looked away in shame.
The braixen felt a wave of pain fill the entire right-side of his face as a cream-colored paw graced him a nasty swat. A similar ache filled the left-side as it impacted against the wall.
"With all due respect," Salami spat, "shut the fuck up. Don't you dare speak to Tart that way when she's only trying to help you. Throw your little tantrums all you want, but for the love of Arceus, don't treat us like we're your punching bags."
"Yeah, whatever, tough guy." Shallot gave a huff, standing up. He walked slowly toward the door. "I'm gonna go drink myself to death." With a glare, he opened the door, only stopping to spit a glob of blood in Salami's general direction before moving out and slamming it shut.
The ninetales continued to glare at the door, his piercing red eyes fixated on the exit. Tears began to build up slowly, before he collapsed onto the floor, weeping into his paws.
Tart gritted her teeth, a distraught grimace tainting her features. She knelt down to hug Salami close, who turned to meet the embrace with a gentle squeeze.
"Tartsy..." Salami whined.
"Shhhh... I'm here." Tart continued to slowly stroke the wailing ninetales' back, each of his shuddering sobs sending a pang of hurt through her chest.
The two continued to cuddle in the dark for what felt like an eternity. For a brief forever, only the distant sound of rain on the roof met Tart's ears, occasionally interrupted by cries from her friend, with ever-decreasing frequency. It was after he'd gone fifteen minutes without his composure threatening to crumble that Salami spoke once more.
"Was coming here a mistake?" Asked the fire-type.
"Mmm?"
"W-we should have just... Stayed back in Spring Town..." Salami gave a shaky sigh, hugging the minccino closer. His eyes remained open, staring into the darkness. "Life was so much easier, you know? When the only adversity we faced was being made fun of for wearing stupid capes..."
Tart wiped stray tears from Salami's eyes, giving him a small kiss on the forehead after.
"Go on."
With a sniffle and a sigh, the ninetales slowly sat up, holding the smaller pokémon in his lap. He carefully held her paws, squeezing them ever so lightly.
"I... I don't want to yell at my friends, Tartsy," he admitted. "And I, uh, especially don't want to have to hurt them. He was just... Being so stupid..."
"While, it was not right of you to strike Shallot," Tart started, "you can not be faulted for feeling emotions, and you were correct in your attempts to talk sense." She let the words linger in the air for a prolonged moment of silence before speaking again. "Just... Take a more gentle approach, the next time. People will most often respond better to kindness, and you know that."
Salami gave a sigh, turning away.
"Do you think he hates me?"
The minccino shook her head with a negatory utterance, then resting against her friend's chest.
"Impossible. He was merely upset." The normal-type's tail drooped a bit. "As his best friends, we simply must teach him to express his emotions in a more constructive manner. These outbursts of his are unacceptable, and we can not allow this to become a common occurrence. We just need to make it be understood how selfishly he is behaving, and he'll understand. Perhaps we should go find him."
"No," Salami sighed. "He'll, uh, need time to cool his jets." He paused, before adding to his statement. "And... I'll need to cool mine, as well. I still feel like choking him."
"Hmhmhm... Kinky."
Salami glared, despite it not being visible through the poor lighting.
"Uh, I don't think he's into that kind of thing, Tartsy."
Tart gave a small laugh, poking the ninetales' muzzle.
"Well... Perhaps somebody else would be?"
Salami gave a deadpan stare.
"I'm not choking you, Tart. That was a one time thing."
The minccino crossed her arms, looking away with a pout and a huff.
"Psh. There is never any fun to be had with you two."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's just go call up a pie or something. I think Team Glamour could use some company, and they'd probably appreciate the grub."
Tart grinned ear to ear, hopping up.
"Ahah! Let us go, then!" She then paused, giving a hum. "Thinking about it... How have we been thus-far capable to afford such meals? We have only had the one payment from our participation with the assault on the Uprising base, yet you seem to never be short on coin."
Salami bit his lip, looking away.
"Well, uh, you know, ninetales are kind of seen as... Uh... Exceptionally attractive... And..."
Tart shrieked, bonking her friend.
"Salami! Do not inform me that you have been vending inappropriate photographs to weirdos online!"
The fire-type gave a shout, covering his face defensively.
"It's only my paws! I swear!"
The minccino sputtered, gesturing frantically.
"That does not make it any better! To be quite factual, that is debatably even worse!"
Salami huffed indignantly.
"Well, excuuuuuuse me, princess. If you could make one-hundred poké per paw pic, I am sure you would as well."
Tart fumed.
"Dare thou not to imply thine paws to be superior to mine own!"
A playful grin spread across Salami's face.
"Well, if your paws are so good, then why don't you be our photo-star instead? Maybe we could even double-feature."
The minccino furiously shook her head, scoffing.
"I will not stoop so low as to partake in your degeneracy!"
With a sigh and a shrug, Salami shook his head.
"Hey, now. I'm not the one who wants to be choked."
"Shut up! We're getting pizza! With your... Eugh... Paw money..."
Shallot took a deep breath, exhaled in the form of a sigh. The braixen sat atop a street-light, which remained inactive beneath him. His eyes scanned across the scenery, only catching sight of various lights of what few buildings remained active. Occasionally, a bright flash of lightning would illuminate the wooden structure of the town around him for the briefest of moments.
As he remained still, a heavy barrage of rain buffeted his form. The cold, wet downpour worked to snuff out the fire of his rage, succeeding as far as to bring it down to only smoldering coals.
The braixen continued to mutter to himself, squinting upon the bottle in his grip.
"Stupid, stupid... Some friends they are... Pah. You'd never hit me, Pespe cola..." A frown remained etched upon his face as he slowly trailed a digit along the smooth plastic surface. He soon unscrewed the cap with a low hiss, before downing half of the bottle in one go. With a sigh, one part content and one part resigned, he began to twist the cap back on. "I should go apologize." He paused for a moment. "...After the meetin', tomorrow mornin'."
With a small huff of effort, the braixen shifted his weight to the side. Gravity soon did the rest of the work, swinging him upside down. Shallot let himself lower to hang from the light by a paw.
Upon detecting his motion, the street-light activated, bathing the scene in a harsh white glow. Shallot hissed in pain from the stinging assault on his eyes, the surprise combined with the slipperiness of the wet material causing him to lose grip on the light. Upon his feet touching the boards below, they, too, slipped, sending him falling onto his back with a grunt.
With a sigh, the braixen pushed himself back to his feet, wobbling unsteadily from the bipedal gait.
Toast shared a curt nod with the nearby gallade as the tall double-doors swung closed behind.
The alakazam glanced around the wide-open meeting chamber. A small grimace crossed his features at the disarrayed sight before him.
Encircling the round, central table, several chaotic divisions of pokémon were formed instead of the typical three. The only members to show up from outside of the guild this time were a couple news reporters.
The Garlicia Isle Guild's side of the table was the most united, all talking amongst themselves with various states of confusion and outrage.
The Onya Major Guild's group was pitifully small, with only about a dozen of them having shown up. Most of them stood by Umami, who had taken the Guildmaster's chair, though a couple kept their distance with an apparent distaste.
The Onya Minor Guild's side had a large swathe of pokémon segregated off, with teams Sunrise, Waffle, Wavecrash, and Glamour being the subjects of their avoidance.
Glamour avoided the others in equal measure, each of them looking varying degrees of miserable as they kept their distance. A few stray individuals from the crowd stayed near them to offer comfort, though most eyed them with suspicion. Peel was entirely absent from the room.
Broccoli and Sherbert received fearful, scornful, and hateful glares occasionally from most in attendance. Cindy, Waffle, Basil, Pear, Pancake, and Frye each stood protectively in front of them. Gouda and Lemon kept their distance with disdainful glares, though they were not welcomed into the bulk of the crowd, only a few deciding to keep by their side.
Toast trudged up to Primarina, who turned to meet his gaze. Her worried expression turned somewhat relieved as she moved forward to meet the psychic-type half-way.
"Please tell me y've got some good news," Toast sighed with a slump. "It's chaos in here. I'm feelin' like the load of negativity we're about to drop is gonna crush em', and I don't blame em'." The alakazam let his hands clasp together, with his whiskers giving an occasional nervous twitch as he spoke.
Primarina rubbed the back of her head, shifting uncomfortably in place. She bit her lip before speaking.
"I... Do not have anything particularly special, but there's one noteworthy thing I have to bring up."
Toast gave a short nod.
"I suppose that's better than nothin'. Come on, let's get this thing started."
The two Guildmasters made their ways to their seats, The loud chatter in the room quickly died as the gallade near the door spoke loudly.
"This meeting is now in session!"
Everyone's gazes turned to give the table attention. Various eyes flicked between Toast and Primarina, with a few occasionally settling on Umami.
After a long, tense moment of silence, Toast was the first to speak.
"So... I have bad news." After another brief pause, he sighed. "And... More bad news. Forgive my unprofessional language, but we're in a real load of shit, here."
A swablu on the Onya Minor side of the table spit dismissively, garnering the room's attention.
"A load of shit, eh? You're telling me! We're harboring literal criminals here!" They opened their beak to continue speaking, though hesitantly let it fall closed as the nidoran beside them rested a paw on their back.
Toast heaved a longer sigh this time.
"I... S'pose we should discuss this topic, first. I owe y'all that much."
"You owe us a hell of a lot more than that!" Most of the room jolted upright at the shout, turning to see Bean stamp a paw onto the table. "Those two? Forget them; least of our worries! One of our own members was a part of their numbers!" A few eyes turned to Team Glamour, who's heads lowered in shame. "A high-ranking member of police was one of them! For Arceus' sake, Toast, Major's damned Guildmaster was their leader! Their leader! How can we trust you two to oversee us properly if you couldn't even see what was directly under your damned noses?! How can we trust that you're not one of them, either?!"
Creme let a few of her tails drape over her husband's back.
"Honey, that is quite enough. Please don't get mad."
Bean's posture briefly relaxed. He sat back down with a shake of his head.
"No, love. It is not enough. Our child was taken by those damned terrorists. Now, not only are we working with them, not only are they escaping punishment, but one of our leaders was amongst them. One of our trusted teams had members amongst them. Forgive me for being pissed off when my family, my friends, and my livelihood is in danger on the count of administrative incompetence. Nay... Corruption!"
Across the table, Mustard took a stand as well.
"Yeah, listen to the old man, you guys! My entire family and I were taken by those fucks, and you saw what that thing," she paused to gesture toward Broccoli with a paw. "did to Cindy! And now, we're gonna let them get off scot-free? Do you think some namby-pamby 'magic of friendship' is going to solve anything?" Mustard's fur bristled dangerously as she spoke, an occasional spark flying off. "We should be ending their lives before they can hurt anyone else!"
The room began to fill with murmured chatter. Most seemed to be largely considering Bean, Mustard, and the swablu's sentiment.
Cindy clumsily clambered onto the table with a snarl, smoke puffing from her nose.
"That's exactly what's gonna happen, you glorified porcupine! If we give into such needless violence, are we better than they are?!"
Gouda shot a glare toward the vulpix. She spoke with a growl.
"Cinderella, you are a fool! He tried to kill you, and you're going to go frolicking through the meadows with him like he's your best friend?!" She crossed her arms. "Except, you can't even do that! Last time I checked, frolicking requires functioning legs."
Cindy gave a short gasp, a few tears brimming in her eyes.
Broccoli shook his head, crossing his arms.
"That's-"
"No one gives a shit, you overgrown snake!" Everyone turned to see Shallot leaning over the table, glaring daggers toward the unamused krokorok. "I don't care what Cindy says; the consensus is clear! You're not welcome here, your opinions aren't welcome here, and..." He shot an arm out to gesture toward Sherbert. "Your little girlfriend? Ain't! Welcome! Here!"
"And neither are you," Toast interrupted. Everyone turned to the alakazam, who eyed Shallot with a harsh glare. "Thank you for the segue. This current topic is important, but I believe our next one is more paramount f'r now."
The braixen huffed with a cross of his arms.
"Elaborate."
Toast sat down in his chair. His hands clasped together.
"You see... The Onya Minor Guild is at risk of bein' kicked outta the International Explore and Rescue Group." The room feel deafly silent at his words. "T'be blunt, we've had terrible numbers lately.
Percentage of mission failures has hit an all-time high these past-few months, and the other guilds are beginning to question our competency."
Bean let out a low growl.
"Oh, great. Bringing refuge to criminals is clearly the solution here."
Toast shook his head.
"Primarina and I have formed a plan to solve two problems at once. That pesky Verge Uprising, as well as our failure rate." The room grew quiet, giving their undivided attention. "For those unaware, Arborio is currently in possession of two great artifacts. The Red Orb, and the Blue Orb. These have given him the power to summon ancient beasts of legend; Groudon, the commander of land, and Kyogre, the commander of sea. As we know, Kyogre has been brought here already, having brought on that raging storm outside."
"Get on with it!" called a clefairy.
Toast gave a grunt before continuing.
"Now, we have no hope of taking down such titans on our own. With the assistance of Ms. Avoca, we've scoured through our archives for any information that could help us. Luckily, we've found something. She could probably explain it better than me, but she's out on a mission right now."
"For the love of Arceus," Dish groaned. "Get on with it!"
Murmurs of agreement briefly filled the room. Toast raised a finger to silence the chatter.
"We've discovered that there is, in fact, a third artifact. The Jade Orb, said to hold the power to summon another ancient titan into our lands. The commander of the skies: Rayquaza."
"So, let me get this straight," A lucario interjected. "Your plan to deal with these destructive monsters is to summon another destructive monster?"
Primarina shook her head with a smile.
"No, actually. From what we have read, this Rayquaza is written to be the one being able to put an end to a battle between Groudon and Kyogre. It is then only logical to conclude that it can stop any one of them on their own, as well."
A sawk next to Primarina shook his head.
"With all due respect, Guildmaster, I don't know if we should be trusting these ancient prophecies."
"What other choice do we have?" Toast growled. "If you can think of any better ideas, go on. Spill them. We're waiting. All of us." The alakazam's eyes slowly swept across the silent room. Nothing. "Now, about that other problem that I'd promise this would solve."
"Yeah," Salami interjected. "I don't exactly see how this would help much with our stats. Maybe in the short term, we'll be recognized for stopping a catastrophe, but that still won't fix the long-term problem of pokémon not pulling their weight."
"Excellent point," praised Toast. "You see, the thing is, we don't exactly know much about the Jade Orb. Beyond the fact that it may or may not exist, we don't even know where it is. That is where all of you come in." Everybody at the table had their interest piqued. "We've narrowed down that the main hurdle getting in the way of our members has been the dangerous missions they've been sent on. Specifically, ones to do with the Verge Uprising. More typical exploration missions, however, have largely been a success. Being that we have no clue where to find this supposed Jade Orb, we figure this is as good a time as any to introduce more exploration tasks. With that, I have an exciting announcement to make. To kick off our new wave of exploration, the Onya Minor Guild will be hosting its first expedition of the year, in one week's time. Participation optional, but open to all."
The room erupted into chatter. Most seemed excited, though Shallot huffed in annoyance. He knelt down to huddle with his team-mates.
"That sounds kinda lame, I'll be honest. I'm disappointed."
Salami eyed the braixen with a glare.
"Maybe you need a bit more disappointment in your life, you spoiled brat."
Tart swatted both of them on the muzzle.
"Now is not the time for this, you two. We are to accept this opportunity to better ourselves without objection."
"Yeah, maybe not," Shallot huffed. "Toast said it himself; I'm not welcome here. If he wants us gone so badly, maybe I'll just leave. Better to not be around those criminals, anyway. I could just head back home, live life with my family. Hell, could even hang with Dan, Relish, and Garlic again. Help em' out with their restauranting dreams. That sounds nice." As he spoke, he began to undo his cape's tie.
Salami snorted.
"Look, Shallsy boy, now's our best bet to actually get some wins under our belt. Please just give this another shot; we need you."
Shallot eyed Salami with a glare.
"Need I remind you, Salami, you were actually part of a successful mission against those bandits. Out of any of us, you serve the best chance of remaining in the guild. I'm sure your parents would take you in."
"Well, what about Tart, then?" Salami countered. Shallot glanced down to see the minccino waving up at him with a grin, which he returned the former gesture of. "She didn't exactly leave on great terms with her parents. She might not even have a home to return to. She'll probably have to crash with you or I until she can get back on her feet."
Tart nodded.
"I am more than capable of such, of course, but I would much rather us succeed together if provided the option."
Shallot heaved a sigh, sitting down.
"For fuck's sake. You'd all better be grateful I love you so much." With a grunt, the fire-type re-tightened his cape. Tart and Salami both grinned widely. "And, I'm sorry for last night."
Tart hugged the braixen's waist. Shallot awkwardly hugged pretty much her entire body, given the size difference.
"I predicted you would come around!" she cheered.
Salami let his tails each curl around his friends protectively.
"All is forgiven."
The three had their attention diverted upon hearing Toast clear his throat. They each looked up, soon blushing in embarrassment as they spied nearly the entirety of the room staring at them.
"So! Final topic!" Primarina announced, regaining the room's focus. "Onya Major. You all are looking a bit... Er... Short on numbers."
Umami gave a nervous nod, sitting to her full height. The umbreon's rings gave a small shimmer.
"Well... You see... A lot of our members kinda quit after they found out about Arborio's true identity. I'd say... Over half. Nearly three quarters"
"And the other quarter?" Toast inquired.
"They... Kinda... A lot of them joined him." The mood in the room instantly tensed. A perceivable static and heat seemed to fill the air, presumably from the elevated stress of any electric and fire-types in the room. "Not all of them, mind you, but quite a few. We're down to eighteen teams, most of which were too ashamed or busy to show up. Which is why we'd like to propose two requests."
Primarina stroked her chin in thought.
"Hmmm. Go on."
Umami stood fully.
"Firstly, we'd like to ask that any volunteer teams who would like to transfer in an effort to repopulate are allowed to do so."
Toast and Primarina shared a glance, and a nod.
"Okay, consider it done," spoke the former. "And what else?"
"Secondly, we'd like to hold a vote on the next Onya Major guildmaster in one month's time."
"Also fair," Primarina agreed. "Both requests are granted. We can discuss further details in private later."
Toast raised a hand. The room filled with a psychic aura, amplifying his voice.
"Meeting dismissed!"
Everyone began to shuffle out, being sure to very obviously stay clear of any associated with the uprising.
Salami spoke with a cheer as Team Heroik exited into the Onya Major guild's entry room.
"Well, how about we have some leftover pizza to celebrate?" suggested the ninetales.
Shallot raised an eyebrow.
"Damn, pizza without me? Rude." He crossed his arms with a smirk. It then fell into an expression of ponderance. "Say... Where are we getting the money to afford that stuff anyway?"
Salami took on a smug grin as Tart abruptly fainted.
While most of those leaving seemed adequately satisfied, many still scowled, feeling as though things haven't been resolved.
