The streets of the so-called 'city of love' had a disturbingly horrid stench to them, especially with no partner to draw Flower's attention from it. No companion.
No Diglett, she thought remorsefully.
The worst part of being alone was that the only sounds around her were from the boring, hopeless, dead space. That could be okay if they didn't accentuate the thoughts within her, thoughts that she believed would only lead to more sadness and heartbreak if she didn't keep them under control. Thoughts that would drive her crazy. Thoughts that might make her return to him, in rage or in sadness.
So, she did her best to keep her mind on the city.
Unintentionally, her pent-up rage had made her annoyed with the city itself. Flower's non-existent feet clacked along the cobblestone walkways and made a splashing sound every so often, but never at a constant rhythm. The rain made an ignorant sloshing sound in terribly placed puddles. The street lamps and lights from windows of distant buildings were always too bright or too dim, the inconsistency hurting her non-existent eyes. Hell, even the walls around me aren't ever the right colour, she thought ruefully.
Diglett had brought her to this stupid city on their stupid honeymoon. Despite Flower's attempts at casually criticizing Diglett's timing of the vacation, he never seemed to get the hint that, in normal couples, honeymoons come after marriage and not the proposal. In fact, he usually brushed it off, either by belittling her feelings and awkwardly laughing at it as if it were a joke or by saying something ridiculous like "it's a family tradition" or "it's okay, we aren't a normal couple". He wasn't wrong in saying that they weren't a normal couple, at least. When they were together, it always seemed like she was hiding her secrets and true thoughts from him, and there was no doubt in her mind that he did the same. Not to mention the fact that it always felt like he was only using her for sex. Out of every problem with their relationship, that made Flower the most angry to think about. Even still, it seemed that she couldn't fill that role for him as he left her for sex with those two. The "Dugduo", they called themselves. The stupid roomservice people who had made her feel insecure with their stupid insults and stole her stupid fiancé.
She heard the insult echo in her mind. You overweight, carbon dioxide breathing scum! Then the door slammed.
Insecurity. Perhaps that was her flaw in the whole thing. Ever since the beginning, she had felt like she'd just been a decoration for Diglett and would try her best not to confront him on anything. After all, she was a member of the Flower family, a rich, kind, and royal family. Even now, she could hear her mother's voice, the voice of Damask Flower. "Flower, you are to look pretty and be polite," she'd command. "Men aren't looking for your opinions or your personality. Your mind is worthless to them." She'd never said it outright like that, but Flower could imagine those words coming from her. It was her mother's decision to have her marry Diglett. Why she would ever decide to marry her daughter to such an indecent, perverted scumbag was unclear. Nevertheless, Damask always seemed to be watching her and Diglett's every action. At times, she'd watch from afar while Flower and Diglett would go off together, and it often made Flower wonder if her mother was somehow jealous of her.
As if waking from a trance, Flower lifted her head and realized that she was worrying about her family and Diglett. She cursed herself, shook her head, and tried to focus on the city once more. On her aimless journey through the innumerable alleys and roads, it became a cycle. When she focused on the city, it became clear how lost in the darkness she truly was. However, when she inevitably fell through the spiralling thoughts of her past relationships and expectations again, it became clear how dark her mind had become and how desolate and hopeless she was.
By coincidence, her non-existent legs seemed to grow tired as she passed a bar. A fluorescent neon sign reflected its rays on the frosted window, with its big letters flashing the word 'OPEN' at Flower. Additionally, there was a rug on the cobblestone near the door that had become drenched by the rain. It read 'Welcome Home', a joke that Flower thought was pretty grim. She sighed and accepted the fact that there probably weren't many better places to take a break, so she shuffled towards the door. Atop the entrance was a sign that bore a picture of some type of pig and some harsh, sharp font with the name of the bar. So, with a gentle push of the door, Flower entered The Sty.
Despite the name, the pub was relatively well kept and had a cozy feel to it. She could smell cedar and practically taste the poplar all around her. Looking around the room, careful not to make eye contact with too many people, there was a bright and shiny jukebox in the corner, a beautifully patterned carpet beneath her (although it had some mud and alcohol stains near where she stood), and a lot of differently coloured drinks behind the counter that were illuminated by a snug red light. There were many hardwood tables and chairs and wooden decorations that made the entire bar feel like it was someone's cabin. As Flower walked closer to the bar, she also noticed the large pair of antlers above where a large, blue, draconic barmaid stood uncomfortably between the bar and the wall of alcohol.
"How's goes the night, young one?" she said as she noticed Flower approach. Flower's eyes quickly darted to a clipped-on name tag. Scrawled messily on it in what seemed to be several different colours of pens and markers was the name 'Saphira from the Inheritance book series', although the latter bit was written much smaller, such as to fit it on the tag at all.
"Not too bad," she lied, putting on her best smile. "Yourself?"
Flower's attempt at a grin must've been weak. Although she said nothing of it, Saphira-from-the-Inheritance-book-series gave a face of pity. "Not bad. It has been relatively quiet this night. No one has started any fights at least." She motioned towards the bottles behind her, nearly knocking some of them off with her tail and wings. "Can I get you anything?" she said hesitantly.
"I'll take a Fireball," Flower replied meekly. The dragon stared at her blankly as she realized a little too late that people had probably used that as a joke for Saphira-from-the-Inheritance-book-series a little too often. Flower put her head down, muttered an apology, and pushed some money across the bar. Saphira-from-the-Inheritance-book-series snorted, dark smoke billowing out as she did so, and began looking for the correct bottle.
After a couple minutes of searching, knocking down bottles, and cleaning up the several messes, Saphira-from-the-Inheritance-book-series finally slid a glass of Fireball across the counter. "This stuff is pretty intense," she warned. "It's usually just a drink for parties. Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, Saphira-from-the-Inheritance-book-series," Flower said, as convincingly 'okay' as possible. This time, the dragon seemed less concerned about Flower's well-being because she looked down at her nametag and, despite the reptilian body, managed to look embarrassed. She gave an awkward smile, showing her sharp claws and teeth, and said, "P-please, just call me Saphira."
"Hello, Saphira, my name's Flower."
A puff of smoke came, once more, billowing from Saphira's mouth, although this one more from a noise that sounded like a giggle. "I wouldn't have been able to tell," the dragon said, an obvious sarcastic tone in her voice.
Flower reached for the cup and took a sip. Well, by 'taking a sip', she didn't do it in the conventional way. She kind of awkwardly poured it on her roots, spilling most of it on the carpet and dripping some of it on the wooden chair she sat on. A small puddle began to form. Saphira did her best to look cheery, but Flower realized that she was getting a little bit worried about the mess that she would no doubt have to clean up later. Flower slowly stopped pouring the drink and put the glass on the bar as an uncomfortable silence grew between them. Flower flinched as the cup made a little clink when she put it down.
A moment passed. As Flower was thinking about getting up from her seat, Saphira broke the silence. "I think that human over there has been checking you out, sister." She pointed towards a table in the corner of the bar. The man who sat in the place was extremely muscular, had a stylish pompadour, was lightly shaven, and, most strange of all, wore what appeared to be a white superhero suit branded with a large 'M'.
"Him?" Flower asked, confused. "That Markiplier-looking guy over there?" He wasn't that bad looking, but Flower found it hard to believe that he would be looking at her. He appeared to be a pretty-boy, probably with a large ego and way too much confidence. Flower was, well, just a flower.
"Yes, him. You should go talk to him. He smells nice enough," the blue dragon urged. When Flower raised a non-existent eyebrow at her, Saphira seemed to panic. "I have a really good sense of smell! Don't judge me!"
"I've never had an easy time talking to guys. My last… boyfriend was never one that liked talking too much."
Saphira paused for a moment. "Perhaps I could help you talk to him from afar. There's this cool trick I can do…"
Suddenly, a noise filled Flower's mind. One that sounded like rushing wind or water flowing; which one it more closely resembled, Flower could not tell. The noise slowly fell silent, and then she could hear Saphira's voice. I don't show this to all the customers. You're a lucky plant, you know that?
Flower forced herself to push through her initial shock and try to talk back. This is pretty freaky, but I guess it will work. How'd you learn how to do this?
If you read my source material, technically this should be the only way I talk. Anyways, it's just one of the perks of being a dragon. I hope that, in any case, I can help you not say anything too stupid to this guy.
Thanks for having faith in me, Saphira.
Don't mention it.
Sliding off of the seat, Flower began to move towards the man. Time seemed to slow down as her anxiety became exponentially louder in her mind, the fearful choir crescendoing for what felt like hours. Oh dear, oh dear, what am I doing? Her heart would have exploded if she had one. She became extremely aware of her petals, worrying if they were wilted at all.
Chill, young one.
Taking Saphira's words to heart, Flower stopped, closed her eyes, took a deep breath of carbon dioxide, and calmed herself down. When Flower opened her eyes, she heard the pub door slam open. Suddenly panicked again, she whipped her head to look and she saw a pig, angry and confident, dressed in a tuxedo and chewing on a cigar.
Despite standing low and small on his four legs, the pig's voice boomed across the bar. "Where is Goku?"
Flower could have heard a pin drop if it weren't for the sounds of Prince's "Purple Rain" playing on the jukebox. No one moved. Even though Flower wanted to run away, she couldn't seem to find it in her. Just like a normal flower. Of course, as intimidating as this small pig was, she really wanted to burst out laughing. In his face. Really loud.
So she did.
Despite being very obviously unimpressed by her sense of humour, the pig stood and took her laughter. When the guffaw ended, however, a low growl came from the pig's throat and his brow furrowed. He studied the room slowly, moving his head side to side. Again, no one moved. It was then that Saphira clued Flower in. Flower, that man is the middle child of the Little Pig Crime Family, Styx Boarsby. I'd run if I were you.
Flower moved a step back, realizing that there was no hope in fleeing through the front door. Unfortunately, Styx seemed to see through her feeble escape attempt and promptly began circling her. Any time she would try to leave, he would block her. "What a pretty little flowa'. D'ya mind tellin' little ol' me why you laughed at me?" He whistled towards the door. "Or, better yet, a couple of my friends?"
The door swung open, and in walked a rather skinny man. Despite his body type, green shirt, mullet, and a little bit of fuzz on his chin, he looked surprisingly intimidating. Crashing through a window came a dirty tow truck, spraying glass shards and rain water across the pub. A choir of screams came from Flower's right, but, for fear of the situation getting worse, she kept herself focused on Styx.
"Now, pickin' the petals off've you would be fun, I'm sure," the pig said as he swallowed his smoke. Flower flinched back as the sentence broke for him to get a good breath in. "…But I have more important matters to attend to. If someone doesn't tell me where Goku is, I'm going to absolutely lose it."
"You're not going to touch a single leaf on that flower."
Styx's eyes darted to Flower's left, though she dared not look towards the sound herself until Styx began to speak. "Who do you think you are, punk?" The so-called 'punk' he spoke so sternly to was none other than the man Flower was about to go hit on. Flower glanced at Saphira for a second.
Why can't you help me out here? she said to the dragon.
For starters, I'm pretty much squished behind this counter and fire breath would only do more harm than good. Also, Styx has probably got the whole place surrounded with men.
Ok, sure, I guess I'll just get ripped apart over here.
Young one, you'd burn to death. Besides, the looker over here seems to have you covered.
The man still sat silently at his table. "So? Cat got your tongue?" taunted Styx. "Or maybe a pig?" An ugly cackle ruptured from behind his yellowing teeth, and equally wicked laughs came from the shaggy-looking man and the truck, who seemed to join in hesitantly. Flower began to realize that the truck itself seemed to be laughing and noticed that it had a face. It took all of her willpower not to laugh or appear shocked after figuring that out; she could not tell which would be the more appropriate reaction.
The man stood up, flipped his cape, did a bit of a pose, and finally responded in a soothing deep voice. "My name is unimportant, but you may call me Metro Man." He pointed at the pig and flashed a broad, pearly smile as he laughed a little. "I don't know who Goku is, by the way. I just saw a beautiful girl in trouble." Flower felt herself blush, a deep pigment coming into her petals.
"And I just saw a dead man stand and talk to me," the pig said. "Boys, get 'em."
--
Flower put a leaf on Metro Man's face, wiping the blood off his chin. What a bloodbath it was indeed. While she was certain that Metro Man was okay, she couldn't say the same for the many customers who had tried to attack Styx and his posse. Some still lay on the ground in the bar, but others were dragged out of the bar and were missing. Despite her and Saphira's cries for many of them to sit back down and not take part in the battle, people kept trying to defend her, and then others would try to avenge those that had risen to her aid.
Goku had been found upstairs. Through the constant yelling and screaming that filtered through the floor above, Flower learned that the bar was owned by Styx and managed by a spiky haired man named Son Goku. Unfortunately for everyone there, Goku had somehow taken and used more money than the Crime Family had allowed him to. The whole thing should have been quite easily taken care of, with Goku alone taking all the punishment. In the city of love, I suppose nothing should ever be done alone.
All this carnage had been caused by one little flower laughing at a pig. Mother was right. I should just stick to my nature and be a normal Flower for once. Flower had imagined the whole scenario going much better in her head, with Metro Man swiftly dealing with the criminals and everyone being on their merry way. Now Flower sat in a crime scene, with red and blue police lights flashing outside the frosted windows of the pub and officers searching all around her. She couldn't even really talk to Saphira because she was being interviewed.
Metro Man began coughing. "H-hey."
"Hey, you're awake! How do you feel?"
"I'm a superhero. I'm mostly invincible." He began to stare off into the lights, and Flower swore she saw a light yellow and blue sheen reflected through his eyes, although she never figured out where from. He swiftly got up and brushed dust and blood off of his white suit. "I-I've gotta get home," he said, sounding disappointed and embarrassed.
Flower looked down into her 'lap' and considered her options for a second. "I don't have a place to stay," she said finally.
Metro Man blushed and put his hands on his hips before offering her a hand to get up. "I guess I could take you to my place, as long as the detectives are okay with us leaving. It's not like they don't know who did this whole thing." He looked over his shoulder and a nearby officer flashed him a thumbs-up. "If you're okay with me flying you there, I'll just pick you up and we'll head out."
Flower nodded and, after stepping outside and having Metro Man pick her up by the stem, away they went into the night sky. Weakly, she chuckled. This has got to be the worst honeymoon vacation ever. She looked at Metro Man's face as it was illuminated by the moon and stars and gave it a small kiss.
Well, maybe not the worst.
They banged.
The end