"FOODFIGHT!"
Now he'd done it. Before anyone could so much as blink, Chirps flung Porker's salad ("HEY!") at Sticks, with everyone's eyes on the two of them to see whether or not Chirps' declaration would hold true. She dodged it with ease as though she had been evading attempts on her life for years, which was most likely the case. And, covered with ranch dressing, it landed squarely on Shortfuse's face. Or perhaps I should say helmet.
Granted, Shortfuse did not need to eat. In fact, he could not eat. But despite sitting at the far end of a table and evidently wanting nothing to do with the rest of us, there must have been some part of him that did not want to be left out. That wanted to feel 'normal'. It was something I have had a considerable amount of experience dealing with. And so, here he was, sitting in the mess hall despite not needing to be there, merely to have some sense of normalcy in his life. And I strongly suspect that as his bright red eyes glared at Sticks, he was strongly regretting his decision.
Things only escalated from there. One salad from Chirps led to a bowl of tomato soup from Shortfuse. One bowl of tomato soup from Shortfuse led to a plate of spaghetti with extra tomato sauce from Sonia. And a plate of spaghetti with extra tomato sauce from Sonia culminated in a chili-dog pizza with extra tomato sauce beyond mention from Sonic the Hedgehog.
And that was when it all exploded.
Half of the room was throwing streaks and tossing drinks, and the other half was hurling sporks like throwing knives, nevermind the literal mustard bombs. For all intents and purposes, a World War had exploded within thirty seconds, with the only saving grace being that a small messhall served to contain it.
Porker ducked under the table, shaking like a nervous wreck and covering his head with his tray, stuttering all the while. "O-Oh, come on! I-I d-didn't s-sign up for t-this! G-get me out of h-here!"
"Come on!" I said. Chirps was too busy being caught up in the mayhem of it all. Instead, I motioned to Rotor, himself having the common sense not to get caught in this farce, to crawl under the table with Porker. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several other such sane individuals as Harvey Who, Counselor Rosie, or Doctor Quack do the same, along with Cream and her mother. Cream looked as though she were about to break down into tears. Under normal circumstances, I would consider such behavior to be most odd, but given what she had gone through, I could not blame her.
Having just dodged a carton of milk and successfully ducked and covered, I touched Porker on the shoulder to get his attention. He yelped as though someone had shot him through the spleen, but he quickly managed to compose himself. Or at least as much as he could. "Oh. Tekno. I-I guess I wasn't the only who thought this was a good idea, huh?"
"Indeed," I said. "Follow me, Porker. We are getting out of here."
"Huh? But…" It was then that the wheels in his brain began to set themselves in motion. That was something Porker should have been commended for. He had a habit of catching on before you knew it. It certainly saved me some time. In this case, the plan was to crawl under the table and make our way to safety. Given how long it was, it should not have been too much trouble to assume that we'd end up right at the hall's entrance. "Oh, right. But are you sure it's going to work?"
"As long as we don't have the sudden urge to stand up like a yard-rake," said Rotor, "it should. Besides, it's not as though we're the only ones with that idea." Indeed. Across the hall, Harvey, Quack, and Rosie were following suit. Cream was almost too scared to move, but with some urging from Vanilla, she was starting to make her way across, one inch at a time.
"Once we're through," I said, "we alert Sally. Assuming she hasn't already heard this ruckus, or that Mina has not had the decency to speed out of here or bring her over, she should be on her way here from her cabin shortly." This was true. Sally was one of the only ones not present for lunch, instead choosing to spend her time going over the intel that Harvey had given her just yesterday. Or at least that was what she told us. With all that had been going on, it would not have surprised me if she was using this time to grieve. It used to be something I could scarcely imagine, but as with many things, I have learned better. There were times where I wondered if there wasn't anything I did not have to learn the hard way.
In any case, we needed to move it. I motioned for Porker and Rotor to follow, and they inched forward on their knees as fast as they could. Up above, we could still hear the uproar and calamity. Shattered glass, spilled coffee, splattered whip cream pies. The only silver lining was that everyone had the decency not to use their powers beyond Sonic (or I assume it was him; it was rather hard to see what was going from under there,) dishing out chilidog missile upon chilidog missile. And multitudes of footsteps still battered the table above us.
As we neared the exit, I could hear Sticks roaring throughout the mess hall, issuing declaration after declaration to all within earshot. "MORE TOMATO SAUCE FOR THE TOMATO GOD! ALL SHALL BE COVERED IN SAUCE OR JUICE OR WHATEVER OR ALL SHALL PERISH! Hey, blue guy, can ya throw a chilidog over here? I'm getting hungry. A girl's gotta' eat you know. TOMATOES FOR THE TOMATO GOD!"
After what seemed like a century, we managed to reach the end of the table. We clamored out from underneath and, making sure to duck, hightailed it out of the war zone. We slammed the door behind us as though shutting the gate to hell and laid back against the outer walls of the mess hall, taking a moment to catch our breath as though we had barely managed to escape with our lives.
"Oh Gaea!" said Porker. "Just… oh, Gaea! We are NEVER going through that again!"
"Eh, I don't know," said Rotor. "Might've been fun."
Porker could not help but slowly lift his head up before staring at Rotor as though he had been touched in the head. And I could not blame him. "You're insane, you know that?"
Just then, the door slammed back open as Harvey, Quack, Rosie, Cream, and Vanilla all barreled out of the mess hall, shutting the door behind them much the same as us.
"Gaea!" said Quack. The duck smoothed out his white doctor's coat and adjusted his stethoscope, attempting to keep himself looking as professional as possible. "Who had the bright idea to start something like this with this crowd? I'm a doctor, not a babysitter!"
"Oh, I don't know!" said Rosie. The woodchuck's red and white dress fluttered in the breeze as rays of sunlight reflected off of her large, sharp buckteeth. "In a way, it was almost exhilarating. Besides, everyone needs to unwind somehow."
"Regardless," said Harvey, "they are making a mess of the messhall. Though at least you could argue they're at least making it fit the name." As for Vanilla and Cream, all the former could do was the comfort the latter in her arms. Even if no-one was in any real peril, it was still too much for Cream given her current situation. Poor girl.
I was about to call out to Harvey and the others and let them know we were here, but it was then that the women we were waiting for made her grand appearance. By this point, everyone in the mess hall was making such a ruckus that you would have to have been deaf not to hear it. Looking at Sally and her furrowed brow and clenched fists, it was clear beyond certainty that she had. And as she marched towards us down the village path, it was also clear that there would be hell to pay.
We didn't even have to explain the situation to Sally. All she knew was that someone was causing a ruckus in the mess hall, and as she threw open the door and stormed through, that was all she needed to know. She picked up a spare pot and pan that had been tossed onto the floor and banged them together like a wind-up monkey smashing two cymbals together. It was quite the racket.
At first, there was nothing. They all continued to lob meatballs at one another and spill their drinks on top of anyone who so much as looked at one another, and no-one seemed to care about much else. But as Sally continued to make herself heard, the chaos and confusion slowly began to cease. By the time Sally finished, she had utterly quelled it, like a mighty magician calming the storm.
Everyone stood in place like a statue. Even though half of the tables had been turned over and the benches had been scattered as though as a tornado had blown through, and even though they were all covered in filth of their own making, all of them began to look at Sally as though she were the reaper. It was as if their lives were now in her hands. One look in her eyes was enough to tell this may well have been the case.
"Alright. I want to know who started this, and I want to know NOW. Because I can tell you right now, unless someone comes forward right this instant, you're all stuck doing waste management duty for the next year. Are we perfectly clear?!" Indeed she was. Only seconds had passed before everyone pointed at Sticks, as though they were selling her out to save themselves from being burned at the stake. Stick had just been about to hurl another tomato, but as Sally's eyes drilled into her she started to believe it might be best if she slowly, gently placed the tomato down on the table. Which she did.
"Uh, hey! How ya doing? Oh, nearly forgot. You still got those eels I put in your baththub? Cause let me tell you, they taste delicious! They're also dirty rotten SOB's that don't know when to leave well enough alone. Figures it gives me the right to eat 'em. Fair's fair."
Sally had had enough. Granted, I did not think this was the correct course of action, but it was rare that anyone ever listened to me outside of scientific jargon. Not truly. And I would be lying if I said I was completely over this.
Sally stomped over to Sticks and grabbed the tuft of her collar, bringing her furry orange head down to her level. Sticks, for her part, was not sure if she was going to make it out of this alive.
"Listen. I appreciate that you're letting us live here. I really do. But by no means are you going to turn this outfit into a disaster zone! And if you do, I can tell you, you're going to wish you hadn't. Do I make myself clear? AND THAT GOES FOR The REST OF YOU!"
As myself and the others looked into the mess hall via the screen door, it was clear that everyone had gotten the message. Even if it had to be bored into them like a drill.
"Yeesh," muttered Porker. "She's like some scientific anomaly. One look from her and hell freezes over." No sooner than he opened his mouth did Sally shoot a cold icy stare his way, as though she could hear and see all. She could not, of course, but she did a most excellent job of making it appear so.
"Well," said Rotor. "You don't see something like that every day. Anyway, let's get back to the lab. Sides, we don't want to wait for her higness to come out and give Porker and the rest of us the same treatment, do we?"
"Indeed," I said. "That would probably be for the best." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the princess give Rotor a stinkeye. In that particular instance, there wasn't much harm in a tactical retreat. So retreat we did.
From what I could gather, Sonic and Mina spent the next twenty minutes cleaning up the mess hall and making sure that it shined like a Chaos Emerald. Chaos Emeralds are said to be ancient artifacts created long ago, spoken of only in old legends and fairy tales, though such legends have long circulated throughout the royal family. And they're said to be incredibly shiny. In other words, they were ordered to make the mess hall shine to such an extent that was outright impossible to achieve, even for the two fastest things alive. After all, Chaos Emeralds were supposedly nothing more than a myth. And yet, are not all myths or legends steeped in some level of truth?
In any case, it was time to head back to the lab, though not before Rotor saw fit to uphold his side of the bargain. As we began to walk under the tall, verdant trees, it was then that he started his tale in earnest.
"So. Like I said, I come from a tribe. All the way down in the artic. The Walrus clan's been around for longer than the Acorn Kingdom's been a kingdom, not that it might even be a kingdom for much longer, but you get the idea."
"Hey," said Porker, "don't let Sally catch you saying that. She's been through enough as is. Nevermind the ruckus in the messhall."
"I know. Once again, lack of perspective. My bad."
It was then that the wheels began turning in my head. Rotor didn't seem that different from the others. Then again, neither did I, or at least not when we weren't trapped in a prison cell with no apparent means of escape. And yet, he didn't always seem grasp just when he was somewhat insensitive. Nevermind the odd struggle to make eye contact, the occasional failure to enunciate properly, and other such 'quirks.' I could not be sure, and yet, was it possible that we were the same? Unfortunately, I could not be sure. Or at least not then.
"Anyway," he said, "my tribe's got something of an issue with masculinity. They're a clan of warriors and craftsman. Live by the cudgel, die by the cudgel. Part of that's because they spent centuries warring with the Orca clan as part of some blood feud. Nobody even remembers why everyone started fighting, just that they did."
"Like Julio and Romiet?" I said.
"Exactly. Both clans were fighting each other for so long that they forgot how to do anything else. They've got a truce going on for the time being, but only Gaea knows how long it'll last."
"Well," said Porker, "you don't seem like any kind of barbarian to me. Aside from being strong as a Mobian ox."
Rotor flexed his biceps, though as always, he took no pleasure in it. "Yeah, I know. It's never been something I asked for, to be honest. Though I'd be lying if I said this didn't come in handy every now and then. In any case, I knew from the second I could form a coherent sentence that I didn't want anything to do with being strong for strength's sake, or getting my hands dirty in some pointless war. Thought I guess that makes me a hypocrite."
Rotor adjusted his yellow cap, making sure that it was positioned backward as always. One could never be too careful. "As far back as I could remember, I knew I wanted to make things. I didn't have names for them then, and I wasn't even sure how to build them, but it was still what I wanted to do. Make gadgets, tools, anything. But I couldn't do it there. Not with a tribe that put chest-thumping over doing anything productive or substantial. Or a father who used the same approach with his wife and son."
"I hear you," said Porker. "My parents were sort of the same way. They still cared about me, sure, but they just weren't there. No-one was there." He slowly threw out his arm, gesturing to include the entire settlement, or at least as much as he could. "In fact, everyone here might be the closest thing I've ever had to friends. Gaea, did that get depressing."
"It's okay, Porker," I said. "Actually, I believe it is the same with me. I never had any friends growing up either."
"Same," said Rotor. "Everyone just wanted to play in the snow or go hunting or get into sparring matches, but I wasn't interested in any of that. Well, aside from maybe a good swim every once in a while. That's about it. Give me a wrench or a screwdriver any day."
"I know, right?" said Porker. "Sometimes, it just feels like most people don't get us. Or maybe some of us don't get most people. Maybe it's a bit of both."
"In any case, the second I could, I took off and made my way to civilization. Managed to get myself into Spagonia University after they saw what I could do. According to them, I was a natural. And as for my tribe, I've never looked back."
"I wish I could say the same." Porker sighed, as though a sea of troubles were consuming him and giving a sigh was the only way to struggle against it. I often did the same. "I think about them sometimes, you know? They weren't all that bad. Compared to some parents, they might as well have been Parents of the Year. But I just needed more from them then what I got. Because they didn't give it. I wonder what they'd say now. 'Hey Mom, hey Dad. Guess what, your son got himself caught up in a rebellion on foreign soil. Hope I don't get myself killed. See you soon!' On second thought, maybe it's best they didn't know."
"I feel the same way," said Tekno. "My parents did love me, but if they knew what I was up to, I do not know what they would think."
"My parents wouldn't bother either way," said Rotor. "Well, maybe Mom would. My Dad, not so much."
"In any case," I said, "at least here, we are with people who care. Which is something I could not say a year ago. Literally."
"I believe you," said Porker. "Literally."
"Anyway, you've still got that test to run on Shortfuse, right?" said Rotor. Might wanna pick up the pace."
"Indeed," I said. I then smiled, as though things were at last finally beginning to feel right. Perhaps it was time to show them I wasn't completely powerless after all. I readied myself, taking off my sweater to reveal a purple bra and a multitude of long green feathers underneath. I crouched and spread my feathery arms as though I were getting ready to soar like an eagle. And then, I took flight.
At first, they could not believe their eyes, but one look at my wings and it made perfect sense. This was not something I did often. Soaring through the air like this was magnificent, as though nothing was holding me down, as though I could do anything and go anywhere I wanted. And it felt as though I were betraying myself somehow. As though because I was still in some ways trapped within myself, that allowing myself to feel so free and unbound would cause me to lose sight of who I was. To lose sight of reality. And yet, being in this place, with people I could feel at ease with for perhaps the first time in my life. Well, it just felt right.
Porker and Rotor couldn't help but look dumbfounded. Were they merely amazed at my avian prowess? Or was it something more? Either way, I smiled at them again, though I was not quite sure why. Still aloft, I flew past the the trees, leading Rotor and Porker on as I soared towards the lab with a level of grace and majesty that I was only beginning to learn that I possessed. And it was just the tip of the iceberg.
