A young Buneary, bundled tightly in warm clothes from head to toe, shuffled through the blustering blizzard blanketing the roads in eternal alabaster. The colorless camouflage stuck to everything insight, obscuring perspective and depth from his vision. No roads, no hollow buildings, and no Pokémon. It was just white. Nothing but an endless white cold.
He tucked his arm inside his jacket and rubbed his shivering body. Despite the number of layers wrapped over his body, the wind's merciless blades cut through and lacerated his skin with their cold, invisible sickles. The tips of his fur stood on end, prickling his hand like icicles. He could barely keep his eyes open. The goggles he wore had cracks, letting the cruel winds assault his dry eyes.
He wanted to go home, but where was home? Where was he? How long had he been walking? Did home even exist? Was it just him and the white?
No one around to save him. No one to save the child so lost and alone.
But then…why should he accept anyone's help? What selfishness hid behind such beneficial kindness?
He shook those thoughts aside and trudged with heftier steps. He couldn't hear the sound of his feet crunching beneath the snow anymore. He was blind, deafened, cold, couldn't smell a thing, and even his taste buds numbed from brief exposures to the air.
Just how lost was he? When have blizzards ever gotten this bad?
But he shook those thoughts away. He didn't let the blizzard scare him. He marched forward like he always does. There was no use crying. There was no use looking back. All that there was behind him didn't matter. He just had to keep going.
The strain to keep his eyes open overwhelmed his frail body. The cold rapidly sapped the heat from his body, his winter clothes obsolete to the bitter winds. His marches staggered with every advancing step, weakening in bravado. No direction, no location, no clue to where he was.
Where was he even going? Why was he still walking? What was the point?
His knees buckled. They screamed for him to collapse and let the cold take him away. End the suffering now. Let the snow consume his body. There was no point anymore. Just let go, forget the past, and move on from this suffering.
Temptation whispered into his ear as the strength in his legs depleted. He tilted forward, submitting himself to his chosen fate. This was for the best. Like this, he would never suffer torment again. He could be free from this strife.
Virdis, the land of prosperity? More like Virdis, the land of greed.
Escape the greed and return to the aether where he belonged—
A hand grasped the Buneary's shoulder. Somehow, despite basically being a popsicle, that hand sent a deathly chill through his body. A shiver so strong that, for a moment, it generated enough heat to keep him conscious. Enough heat to dare a look over his shoulder, to see what monster had sank its claws into him.
He trembled beneath that hooded figure, and their golden eyes. A piercing shine that broke the veil of absence, an intimidating ray of the heavens, boring a hole the poor Buneary's very soul.
The claws dug deeper, and the figure spoke:
"Do you subject yourself to this fate, boy? Or have you lost the will to live? Awaken your destiny, Son of Fletcher! Awaken, and realize your true purpose to Virdis' rebirth! AWAKEN, SON OF FLETCHER!"
"AAAAHHHH!"
Roscoe sprung up from bed and covered his face. His fur was damp with sweat, soaking into his cover and sheets. He panted long, winded breaths as his eyes rapidly moved around the room, trying to find his bearings. He wasn't in the snow. He could see just fine. He was…in Marshland Village? Yeah, that's it.
The revelation allowed him to soothe his heavy breathing. He clasped his hands over his heart and sighed. "Just a bad dream. Just a bad dream. Just a bad dream," he quietly told himself.
He sighed through his nose and looked outside. He saw flakes of snow falling by his window. Not as bad as last night. Just a gentle snowfall.
He silenced his heavy breaths, then exhaled a long, irritable sigh. "I hate the winter…"
He crashed back onto his pillow and threw the blanket back over himself. He closed his eyes and tried to drift back to sleep. He squirmed in bed, kicking his legs out to get comfortable. Tossing and turning. Twitching and tumbling. Sleep on his side. His back. His face.
He spent five minutes curling around in bed, overturning everything from the sheets to the pillows. Eventually, he sat up and pulled the blanket off his face, glaring irritably out the window.
"Can't sleep," he grumbled. "Great."
He threw the sheets aside and rose out of bed. Perhaps a late night walk will tire him out. He'd rather not go out into the snow, but pacing through the halls could disturb the other guests. Last thing he needed was to be thrown out into the snow for the night.
He grabbed his vagabond costume and pulled the fake beard onto his face. After dressing, he turned to his two sabers sitting in the corner. He considered taking them for protection, but…
He grunted and shuffled out the room. "If someone tries to kill me, they better make it lethal."
Unlike the disguised king, Regina von Elmnou rested soundly in her room. She curled up under her blankets and nuzzled her face deep into her pillows like a young kit. She whispered what was surely an amazing dream taking place deep in her subconscious. An audience could tell, very predictably, that she was swimming in vast riches and bragging about newfound wealth. She even laughed like a noblewoman, albeit in a sleepy, drawn out tone.
As for her captive audience, Thales and Saga sat in the corner of the room, barely able to keep their eyes open. They desperately wanted to sleep, but their bindings made it nigh impossible to get comfortable. On top of that, Regina's sleep laughter randomly fluctuated. In the rare moments they found themselves drifting off, Regina would burst into hysterical laughter and draw them out of their sleepy states before going back to her inane whispering.
Saga narrowed her eyes, feeling her internal flame flaring with her rage. She made her rage doubly known by the tight etching in the walls, chronicling her anger with each passing minute of the day. It became more and more sloppy overtime, indicating the progression of her exhaustion.
Thales, thankfully, calmed down after his insane freak out. Though timid, he shared in Saga's irritation. If they were going to be held hostage, the least their captor could do was provide some comfort so that they don't accidentally keel over from sleep deprivation. Didn't the Accelgor tell her to take care of them or something? Then again, knowing who hired them for their capture, death stood at their fork in the road.
Thales huffed through his nose and tried to close his eyes, hoping he would pass out instantly. He was given a start, however, when Saga collapsed into his giant mane of fluff and snuggled into it. Her internal flame weakened in strength while her eyes fought to stay open, but the soft allure of the cotton compelled her to snuggle deeper into it.
Thales' eyes grew wide, as did the growing red in his face. He went absolutely rigid and tried not to disturb the compulsive chronicler, instead taking great interest with the ceiling and the fascinating grooves in each individual board. Yes, truly fascinating and distracting, not like the admittedly cute chronicler nuzzling into his fluffy mane. Nope, nothing to freak out about.
Ah, such fascinating grooves. One had seven rings. Ooh, there was one with seven rings also, but wavier. That one looked like a tidal wave. That one had six rings instead. And that one—
Thales paused and sniffed the air. An appalling scent intruded his nose. Smoke? Is something burning downstairs? Weird. Smells like burning…cotton.
His eyes traveled hesitantly to Saga, then widened in horror as purple flames burst from under her head. Despite his gag, Thales screamed as loudly as possible and jumped away from Saga, causing her to faceplant the floor.
Thales slammed into a dresser and caused a few of Regina's belongings to clatter to the floor. Saga, alarmed by the sound and from hitting the floor, jumped up and looked around frantically. Her delirious mind affected her balance and caused her to stumble back into Regina's bed. With her flames on high, they caught the dangling sheet. Tiny embers formed and burned through the blanket.
Regina scrunched up amidst the noise, then turned herself around. "Keep it down, you—" After blinking her eyes open, she saw the smoke coming off the corner of her blanket. She gasped as the flames started growing. With a shriek that could shatter glass, she threw it to the ground and stamped her feet down on the burning fabric until the flames extinguished. A harsh black stain remained.
She turned to Thales and saw her battle claws and gourd on the ground. Thankfully, nothing spilled out. She sighed, then snarled at the dimwitted duo, who gulped under her sharp gaze.
She spent the next five minutes cleaning up their mess—which was completely beneath her status—then shoved some of Katsu's poison down their throats, causing them to sputter and gag. She bound their mouths shut again and checked their rope to make sure they weren't loose.
"If I wake up in the morning with those ugly dark rings under my eyes, you two will be sorry," she growled. "GOT IT?!" She didn't wait for a reply. She picked her burnt blanket off the floor, slid back into bed, and curled herself into a ball.
Thales and Saga, after swallowing the awful poison taste, pouted at the prideful Zangoose. She dared blame them like they were spoiled children? How would she like it if she were the one tied down as a hostage? It didn't help she got a comfortable bed without the added luxury of rope burns in the skin.
Thales looked to his burnt mane and whimpered. All the fuss had left his poor mane frizzy and littered with knots. He wanted to brush it out, or at least run his hand through. Undoing the knots would be a nightmare if not treated expediently.
Thankfully, he had something to distract him from his unkempt mane. Saga nudged his side, then nodded at the floor. Thales looked down and saw she had written a message out.
"If we can't leave or escape, how about we have some fun with our captor?"
Thales raised his brow at her. Even gagged, he could see the sinister grin creeping up on the Lampent's transparent face. It kind of scared him, but that's normal. He hummed a "What?" to her. Saga continued her message.
"We need to be brought in alive, right? No way this chick can do more damage than what Jet puts us through. So, what's the harm in a little…mischief?"
Thales blinked, looking between the message and Saga's delightfully evil face. After a minute of contemplation, the timid Whimsicott matched Saga's evil expression with one of his own, followed by an affirmative nod. The duo snickered beneath their gags.
Saga wrote out another message. "I have a fun idea. First we…"
After a brief chat with the late shift bartender, Roscoe stepped out into the snow and wrapped himself tightly in his coat. The snow chilled him beneath his feet, staved off by the thick layer of his winter fluff. He tapped the snow a couple times with his foot, then proceeded out into the night.
Not surprisingly, there weren't that many Pokémon out this late. It must've been well past midnight, and the only folks out were Pokémon adapted to cold weather. It wasn't abnormal to see in the Verde capital, though. He often spotted times at night where young children would sneak out late into the night to throw snowballs or go sledding off rooftops without the intervention of adults. Not like Roscoe had any reason to object to their fun, plus he doubted anyone would've heard him from high up in the castle.
Still, Roscoe despised the winter. Even though he could grow a warm fur coat for the season, it wasn't for him. He preferred the warmer weather. The comforts of a sunray bathing his body, the clear skies, the occasions he, Odolina, and Melissa would take a stroll around the capital in a carriage.
Those were good times, he admitted. Back when Melissa was young and full of positive spirit. All her life, she took to her studies as a princess with enthusiasm and tack. She seemed like the perfect ruler to take the throne at the time. And yet, he missed those times where they spent quality time together. Melissa was always closer to her mother, but Roscoe liked to think they had good memories.
Still, that was a long time ago.
Dredging up memories of his missing daughter weighed on the irritable Lopunny's shoulders. He massaged his face and tried to push them down, though it was better said than done. It frustrated him that the last real conversation they shared together was a screaming match that ended in tears. She never did speak to him throughout that week, aside from snippets of confirmation whenever he talked to her about the wedding.
That blasted wedding, Roscoe grumbled. If she just went through with it, things could've gone back to normal. I wouldn't be bleeding the villages of their resources, and I wouldn't be struggling to get back into Senbo's good graces. Why, oh why, did this have to get so complicated?
He stopped in the middle of the road and looked up at the sky. He couldn't see the stars or the moon. Nothing but flurries of white falling onto his face and fake beard.
I've used every resource I could acquire to do things peacefully. I'm doing everything I can. I can't rely on King Tetrarch to close a deal with the Talbots. Roscoe bared his teeth, curling his fingers so tightly that his nails could draw blood from his palm. If they found out the kind of people the Tetrarchs are…ugh. If there's one solace out of Melissa's disappearance, she's nowhere near their eldest anymore—
"Aaaaa…CHOO!"
Roscoe took his eyes off the sky and peered ahead. His sensitive ears determined the sound to be coming from behind the building on his right. Curious, and perhaps bored for something to entertain him, he trudged up to the house, mindful not to raise alarm. He heard the shuffling of feet crunching on frozen snow and softened his steps further until he reached the corner of the building. He peered around in the shadows, spotting the illumination of a lantern held by a circle of…children?
Kids? What are kids doing out here this late? Roscoe wondered. He poked his head out more to get a better look.
To his surprise, it was the children that robbed Keith from before. The Skwovet, Electrike, Sandygast, and Gible. To his horror, however, Charlie was among them, hands clasped together shyly as he squirmed in place. Roscoe realized all their attention was centered on the timid Clobbopus.
Charlie? What the…? Roscoe ducked back some and glared at the kids.
"Ugh, Charlie!" the Electrike whispered harshly. "Keep it down. We don't want to get caught."
Charlie sniffled and wiped his nose with his scarf. "S-Sorry."
She groaned, then glared at the Skwovet. "Just tell him the plan."
Skwovet grinned. "Right." He slid to Charlie's side and hooked his arm around him. "Charlie, buddy, I see you've been getting friendly with Keith and that hobo recently."
Charlie nodded, keeping his eyes on the ground. "Y-Yeah. I have to work off our debt. I'm sorry."
Skwovet shook his head. "No, no, this was all part of my plan."
"It…It was?"
"Of course! You know I wouldn't abandon you." He patted Charlie's back. "I knew Keith would force you to work off the debt."
"W-Well, he actually threatened to—"
"That means you have access to his stand and all those tasty goodies he has stashed away. The gang and I already devised the perfect plan."
"Y-You have?"
"Uh huh! Just picture it. We've been digging a tunnel under Keith's shop. It's taking some time because I don't want to use Dig and accidentally alert him. No elemental energy, but pure hard labor. Still, we're almost done. This Friday, it should be finished. All you need to do is keep Keith and the old man busy while we steal the wares. After that, we'll collapse the tunnel and scamper off to our secret base. We'll be swimming in delicious food for months."
"Oh…o-okay."
"You sure you can do it, Charlie?" Gible asked.
"Not too tough for you, right?" Sandygast pressed.
Charlie gulped and shook his head. "N-No. I can do it. I-I will make sure Mr. Tibia isn't watching. I-I promise."
"That's why I like you, Charlie!" Skwovet praised, slapping the timid Clobbopus across the back. "You're dependable. Just keep doing what you're doing and we'll be ready."
"O-Okay."
The kids nodded and burrowed back into the ground. Charlie backed away and blocked the snow flying in his face. Skwovet quickly popped his head out and repeated, "Remember, this Friday. Noon…ish. Eh, we'll work out the time later." He dove back down and covered up the hole.
Charlie sighed, then scuttled away. "This Friday, this Friday, this Friday. I can do this. I can do this. I can—"
"Charlie."
The little octopus froze, nearly faceplanting into the ground. He turned upward, shivering under Roscoe's intense glare. He had his arms crossed and foot tapping the ground like he just found Charlie plundering through a cookie jar. It made Charlie shrivel up and hide his face.
"M-M-Mr. Fletcher? W-What are you doing up so l-late?"
"Couldn't sleep," he answered matter-of-factly. "Happens when you get older. Things keep you up at night. Bad dreams, worrying about tomorrow, crippling guilt…"
Charlie winced. Tears fell from his eyes. "I…I didn't mean to—" Roscoe raised his hand and silenced him.
"Come with me. Right now," he ordered. "You and I are going to have a talk." He grabbed Charlie's hand and dragged him out away. Charlie didn't resist, relenting to his punishment wracked with shame.
It took some time, but Regina was able to slip back to sleep, even returning to her extravagant dream that filled her with such unforgettable joy.
There she was, Regina von Elmnou, scorned and rejected by her so-called family for something completely unreasonable and unjustified—despite what the tiny voice in her head that sound suspiciously like Katsu said. However, fortune found the Zangoose once again. Having successfully won The Ghost's bet, she claimed the deed as her own and stood atop her plot of land and new mansion with the biggest, proudest grin at her disposal.
There she was, reclining in her deck chair and taking in the scenery. A beautiful view of her private lake wearing only the finest swimwear in Virdis while sipping on high quality red wine. And of course, what proud noblewoman wouldn't have two fine and criminally handsome bodyguards protecting her from dastardly crooks after her money? A majestic Gallade standing by her with blades out and ready and a muscular Urshifu keeping guard with a cool exterior.
Regina threw her glass up and laughed haughtily. This was the life for her. Riches, land, two handsome men guarding her, and luxury that she deserved. She was truly blessed with great fortune.
If only it could last forever.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap—
Regina was pulled away from her wonderful dream. Her face scrunched up at the infuriating tapping sound coming from behind her. One eye shot open, twitching in an exhausted rage. For the sake of her hostages, that better be a leaky pipe.
She tilted her head, trying to act subtle, and peered at the duo. It was too dark to see, and her brain moved on autopilot mostly, but she saw a ball of fluff in the darkness. By her best guess, it wasn't moving. They were likely asleep.
She shrugged it off and went back to sleep, hoping to put the interruption behind her—
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
Both eyes opened this time. She sat up and glowered at the fluffball in the corner. "Will you two keep it down?" she growled. "I warned you not to wake me up. You won't like me if I don't get my beauty sleep, you hear—"
Tap, tap, tap.
Regina calmed down a bit and squinted at the fluffball. Oddly, it didn't seem to be moving that much. Not even a twitch. Were they even making the noise?
Tap, tap, tap.
In a huff, Regina threw the covers off herself and marched up to the sleeping pair. "Which one of you is making that noise?" She bent down and grasped the fluffball. "If you don't tell me, I'll—" Regina froze and gently squeezed her hand inside the fluff. She should've been gripping a neck. "Wha…?" She tore into the fluff and saw nothing inside. No Whimsicott, and no Lampent.
Regina shot to her feet and looked frantically through the room. Her bodyguards were standing outside the door, and the hapless duo took a whole spoonful of Katsu's poison. Escape was basically impossible. Katsu even determined they weren't that strong, so retaliation wasn't an option, either.
Tap. Tap. Tap. WOOSH!
Regina's head spun around and caught a brief glimpse of her blanket disappearing from her bed. It was so quick that she didn't know where it vanished to. Under the bed, inside the closet, under the floorboards, or into the shadows themselves? Did the Lampent have enough energy to pull off intangibility?
Regina dropped to all fours and crawled around the room, keeping her ears erect and eyes on alert. "W-What do you think you're doing? Y-You think you can mess with me? Do you know who I am? I am Regina von Elmnou, proud member of House von Elmnou! I fear no common crook. You uncouth swine stand no chance facing me."
She saw right through their ruse. There was no rope on the floor. Obviously, they were trying to rile her up, put her on edge until she made a mistake, before jumping and tying her down. They were going to take her prisoner. She didn't blame them. She was clearly worth a lot. An esteemed noblewoman such as herself would be a worthy prize.
Katsu clearly misjudged the tactical genius of these two. They were criminal masterminds biding their time. Oho! But Regina was far smarter than that. She saw her hostages for what they really are. Their tricks won't work on her. She was alert, confident, and—
Hiss.
"Hmm?" Regina turned and saw a white sheet standing in front of her. She blinked twice, then gazed up at two yellow eyes peering from beneath. "Huh?"
"Regina von Elmnou," the possessed sheet spoke. "We come…FOR YOUR SOUL!" it screamed with a horrifying purple glow bursting from beneath.
"AAAAHHHH!" Regina flew into her closet and slammed the door shut behind her.
Her bodyguards immediately broke the door open and raised their fists. "What happened?!" the Hawlucha shouted. "Lady von Elmnou, where are—" He and the Garchomp paused and took in the scene.
Two hostages in the corner, apparently asleep and unbothered. To their right, a closet door shivering and a blanket laying in front of it.
"…Huh," was their only response.
"Order up," the Golduck bartender announced, sliding two drinks down to Roscoe and Charlie. One filled with mead, the other filled with hot chocolate.
Roscoe grabbed his tankard and started drinking. Charlie fidgeted in his seat as he took the warm tankard in both hands. Marshmallows and a mountain of whipped cream floated atop the chocolatey beverage, melting and sinking below the murky depths. Charlie gingerly took a sip, then recoiled from the heat.
Roscoe set his tankard down and leaned forward on the counter. "I'm not mad, just disappointed."
Charlie whimpered, holding his tankard closer to his chest. "I-I'm sorry."
"You need to tell your friends you're not robbing Mr. Tibia."
"I…I can't do that."
"Do you want Mr. Tibia to get robbed, even after agreeing to let you work off the debt?"
"No."
"Then why not?"
Charlie fought back the tears brimming from his eyes. "I…don't want to disappoint anyone."
Roscoe sighed, gently pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why are you trying so hard if don't want to do it?"
"Because I don't want my friends to starve, too."
"…" Roscoe looked down at Charlie, a mix of emotions in his eyes. Irritability. Sympathy. Understanding. Nostalgia. How can a kid remain this goodhearted even after seeing the cruelty of the world? His own friends weren't pure of heart, yet Charlie remained steadfast in his beliefs despite the bad influences.
Roscoe had to admit, it was an admirable trait for someone so young.
"The adults care about making money. They don't have time for taking care of kids like us," Charlie muttered. "They have their own families, or…we're just the rejects no one cares about. So, if it means helping someone live another day, does that make me bad?"
Roscoe looked down into his mead and sighed. "Kid, between the two of us, you're an angel. I'm the devil incarnate."
"Don't say that, Mr. Fletcher," Charlie whimpered, giving Roscoe a gentle nudge. "You're really nice."
Roscoe smiled bitterly at his reflection. "Trust me, kid. I'm nothing more than a selfish old man. You wouldn't…actually, maybe you would understand." Roscoe sipped from his tankard again, then huffed. "Perhaps we have more in common than I thought. Still, the schemes you pulled don't compare to the shit I've gotten myself into. But if it means getting the necessary results, what harm is there in playing the bad guy?"
"I don't understand," Charlie said softly.
"It's better if you didn't, too. Trust me, I know things no Pokémon these days should know. I'm ashamed to admit details about my past, but I've had to detach myself from guilt and kindness just so we could get results. I'd wager you would do the same once you get older, if it meant saving a rejected soul from starving."
Charlie turned back to his hot chocolate. A few teardrops splashed into the murky liquid. "Would my…mom be upset with me? Would she be mad I turned into a criminal?"
Roscoe shook his head. "If what you said is true, I think she would be proud of you for sticking up for your friends, even if your actions are dubious."
"Would your mom and dad feel the same about you?" Charlie asked innocently.
"…" Roscoe stared sadly into his mead. His face rippled off the golden liquid, distorting into a shape he could only describe as ugly and smarmy. He pushed the tankard aside and rested into his folded arms. "I doubt it."
Charlie wiped his eyes and stared at Roscoe worriedly. "You look sad, Mr. Fletcher."
"Heh, do I? This is how I always looked…for a long time."
"Do you think you're a bad guy, too?"
"…Can't say I'm the worst. That honor goes to a certain family I know. But I'm not a good person, kid. And I never will be a good person."
"But why not?"
"Sometimes we do things that make us sick to our stomachs, that we know is wrong. And yet, we still do it because the end result will make it all worth it. It…reminds me of a book I read when I was a child. An old classic to teach kids about consequences. The Celebi's Oath. I…lost my only copy years ago, but the lesson stayed with me for years."
"What's it about?"
Roscoe shrugged. "It has a vague ending, but…imagine if you have the chance to undo the world's darkest history and bring peace to the world. It sounds too good to be true. But the catch is, you have to kill hundreds upon thousands of Pokémon to achieve your wish. I don't remember why, but it had something to do with the supposed oath. Point is, if you did that, you could undo all of life's mistakes in an instant. The book never states if this oath was real, however, or if it even worked.
"Realistically, there is no consequence. You could take so many lives, and you can just as easily undo them. No consequence at all. You'd make the world a better place. No one but the main character believed the oath was real. Is there a point in chasing an ideal that may or may not come to reality? And if so, does it excuse the lives you've taken even if you erased the deaths themselves? The only thing certain is your memories of your actions. If it never happened, are you truly guilty of your crimes?"
Charlie narrowed his eyes. "Mr. Fletcher?"
Roscoe blinked out of his daze and shook his head. "Err, right. A-Anyway, it wasn't a happy book. Though, most stories back then didn't have happy endings. They were meant to scare the crap out of children so they wouldn't misbehave."
"Why did you like it, then?"
"Guess it grew on me." Roscoe sipped his mead. "The point of that story is…you shouldn't obsess over something if you think it'll bring you happiness. Even if you get what you want, some endeavors are so taxing that your very soul can't handle the weight of your guilt. That's why I, at least, try to detach myself from such feelings, hoping it was indeed worth the effort."
Charlie blinked, then looked back at his tankard, watching the last of the whipped cream dissolve onto the chocolate's surface. "Oh." He narrowed his eyes sadly. "Does…that mean I'm bad, though? For stealing?"
Roscoe shrugged. "That depends on you. How far are you willing to go to bring your true paradise to reality?"
Charlie gripped his tankard and sipped his now moderately warm chocolate. His face scrunched up, thinking hard about the hobo's advice. Did he really want to go through with stealing for his friends? Was there a better way he could use his time, maybe even still help them?
After being coaxed out of her closet, Regina shuffled back into her bed and tried to get some sleep. However, she kept one wary eye on the sleeping duo in the corner. Her bodyguards assured her they were in the corner when they came in, and asleep, but she didn't buy that for a second. They somehow managed to sneak up on her while still tied up and scared the living daylights out of her. She didn't know how they had that much coordination, but she won't fall for it a second time.
Try to scare ME, will they? Her brow creased in frustration. You little twerps think you're so clever, don't you? You can't fight back, you can't move around effectively, and I am still amazing. She paused in her thoughts to yawn, fighting for her eyes to stay open. You can't scare me anymore.
She turned away and closed her eyes. She cocooned herself inside her blanket and snuggled into her pillows before letting herself drift to sleep.
She was not cut out for babysitting duty, or hostage-sitting in this case. Why did Katsu have to leave so soon? Couldn't he stay for at least one night, maybe two? All of this to win a bet. She wanted that deed more than anything, but no one told her she had to work for it—except Katsu, obviously. Still, someone of her fine, superior blood needed her beauty sleep.
I won't let those little pests get the jump on me again. As Regina settled into her bed, a thought occurred to her. Wait…one of them talked during that. That means one of their gags was—
"HEY LADY!"
Regina shrieked and flopped over out her bed. "Dammit!" She snarled at Saga, wide awake and looking smug about it. "How'd you get your gag off?!"
Saga rolled her shoulder and let the cloth drop in front of her. It had singe marks. "Stopped me from breathing fire, but embers are plenty."
Regina slapped herself out of frustration and stood up. "You've got to be kidding me—"
"Oh, you think we're kidding you? How's about some hospitality for your hostages?! Do you know how freakin' uncomfortable these floors are!"
"Why you—" Regina started to growl until a knock sounded off her door.
"Lady Regina, is everything alright?" one of her bodyguards shouted. "Do you require assistance?"
"I'm fine!" Regina snapped. "Just keep…guarding or whatever!" She pointed a claw at the smug Lampent. "As for you, if you don't shut up right now—"
"You'll what? Kill me? HA! Not unless you want your precious bounty money!" Saga squirmed around on the floor and clattered her lamp covering against the floor, making as much noise as she could. "Though, I could probably do this all night, too! Lalalalala~!"
"Shut UP!" Regina snapped. "I will beat you with a freakin' broom if I have to!"
"ABUSE! I'M BEING ABUSED!" Saga screamed.
Regina shrieked and rushed over, clamping her mouth shut. "Don't scream stuff like that, are you crazy?!" she whispered harshly.
"HELP! HELP!" Regina gasped as Thales' own burned gag came off. "THERE'S A MADWOMAN IN HERE! HELP—" Regina slapped her hand over his mouth.
"Cut that out this instance or—EWW!" Regina recoiled from the mouth of them and wiped her hands across her nightgown. "You ingrates licked me?! How does a Lampent even have saliva?!"
"ABUSE!" Saga screamed again.
Regina froze as more banging sounded off the room, except it was coming from the room next to hers. "Hey bitch, keep your damn kids quiet!"
She turned to the wall and screamed, "THEY'RE NOT MY KIDS—I MEAN, SHUT UP, THERE'S NO KIDS IN HERE!"
"GRANNY! Why are you so mean to us?!" Thales cried, flailing his feet in his mock tantrum.
"I said be qui—THE HELL DID YOU CALL ME?!" Regina snapped. "I am not a granny! How freakin' dare you!"
"Granny, read us a story!" Saga sobbed, bursting into fake tears. "I can't sleep without my story!"
"I want a story, too!" Thales sobbed.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Regina screamed, stamping her feet like an angry Tauros. "I will beat you over the head with a frying pan!"
"Beat them over with what?!" her room neighbor gasped.
"I DON'T HAVE KIDS IN HERE!" Regina screamed back.
"Lady Regina!" her bodyguards called out.
"I'M FINE!"
"I'm hungry!" Saga whined. "I want hot chocolate!"
Regina raced over to her bed and tore strips of cloth from the blanket. "Of all the freakin' shit I have to put up with, I…" Her face fell as she held two strips of cloth in her hands. "…I have no idea how to tie a knot." To be accurate, a knot that couldn't be undone through reckless shaking and flailing.
"GRANNY!" her hostages yelled. "WE'RE COLD!"
"SHUT THE HELL UP, LADY!" the neighbor roared, banging on the wall with something super heavy.
"Lady Regina, the patrons downstairs are getting mad!" her bodyguard shouted. "And I think the bartender's getting the manager!"
Regina fell to her knees and bit the cloth strips, snarling as she tugged on them. I. Just. Want. To go. To BED! Is that TOO much to ask for?!
Roscoe glared up at the second story of the tavern. "What the hell is with all that racket up there?"
The Golduck bartender placed some clean glasses down and adjusted his spectacles. "I'll go check on it, sir. Sorry for the disturbance." He stepped out from behind the counter and walked upstairs.
Roscoe rolled his eyes and sipped his mead. "And I thought I was the one having a rough night."
"Um, Mr. Fletcher?" Roscoe glanced down at Charlie nervously rubbing his hands together. "I don't want to be a criminal. I just want to make my friends happy. I want to keep them safe."
Roscoe narrowed his eyes. "Is that so?"
"Mhmm." Charlie sniffled, then gazed up at the disguised Lopunny with shimmering eyes. "I…I'm going to tell my friends not to rob Mr. Tibia."
Roscoe blinked, then shared a small smile to the young Clobbopus. "That's a fine idea, kiddo. You have my support."
"I-I hope so, because…" Charlie wrung his hands together. "I-I'm too scared to face them right now. I don't want to upset them, or make them feel bad. I want to do it right, and make amends. M-Maybe we could work something out with Mr. Tibia and…drop the charges."
"That's a tall order. You sure you can handle it?"
Charlie shook his head. "I don't know." He tugged on Roscoe's arm and whimpered, "Can you…help me talk to them? I don't want to face them alone. I don't want to back down and quit. I need to do this for them."
"What about you?" Roscoe asked.
"As long as they're safe and sound, that's all that matters to me."
A deep frown fell onto the Lopunny's face, hidden behind his fake beard. "Kid…" He patted Charlie's head and sighed. "You care that much about them, don't you?"
Charlie nodded. "I know they don't sound like good friends, but they don't deserve to be treated like dirt. No kid should. That's why they took me in because I was lonely like them."
"You would go beyond reason just to help your friends, even when the goal ahead seems impossible to reach?"
Charlie nodded weakly. "I want to make my mom and dad proud more than anything. If I can help someone in need, that's the only joy I could ask for."
"…"
Charlie flinched as something dripped onto his head. He looked up right as Roscoe turned away and rubbed his eyes into the fluff on his hands. "Mr. Fletcher?"
"I'm fine, kid. I'm fine. Just…Just reminiscing. And…self-loathing."
"Huh?"
Roscoe sighed and turned back to Charlie with a serious look. "Charlie."
"Yeah?"
"I…" Roscoe gently gripped his fake beard and gave it a tug. "There's…something you should probably know about why I came here. And, looking at you, I…"
"What?"
Roscoe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You see, I came here to—"
"AAARGH!"
Roscoe and Charlie flinched and turned to the banister. A Zangoose in a nightgown marched out and descended the stairs with loud, thunderous steps that rattled the nighttime patrons. She forced her way into a storage closet and dug around inside, throwing out everything in her way from buckets to barrels. Everyone watched with a mix of reactions, some befuddled and others amused.
She emerged, clutching a handful of blankets, and kicked the storage closet shut behind her. She glared at the gawking patrons and snapped, "The hell are you looking at?!" Everyone turned away and innocently whistled to themselves. She huffed in response and marched back up the stairs.
Roscoe and Charlie shared a look with each other, then watched the angry Zangoose disappear into her room with a hard slam on the door.
"…Well, that happened," Roscoe muttered.
Charlie tugged on his sleeve. "Do you think she had an argument with her special someone?"
Roscoe snickered. "That would explain the blankets. Can't find a couch? Kick them onto the floor instead. She was probably drunk, too."
Charlie covered his mouth and giggled. "Super drunk!"
"Yes, super drunk."
Charlie grabbed his tankard and slurped the last of his lukewarm chocolate down. He glanced up at Roscoe and asked, "What did you want to say again?"
"Hmm?" Upon remembering, Roscoe waved it off. "Oh, nothing important. I'll tell you some other time."
"Oh, okay."
Once Regina slammed the door shut, she marched up to Thales and Saga, one absolutely terrified and the other looking quite smug with herself. Regina hissed at them, but broke into a tired and defeated sigh. She surprised the two by dropping two thick blankets onto the floor. They stared at them, then casted Regina a wary look.
"I'm really tired right now, and I'm not in the mood to put up with you two all night," she growled. "So, if you behave and go the hell to bed, you can have these blankets to keep you comfortable. And, if I'm not cranky in the morning, I might give you something to eat that isn't yesterday's leftovers. So please!" she whined, pleading her lungs out. "Please, just go to bed!"
Thales and Saga glanced at each other, the blankets, then Regina. With a moment of silent deliberation, they shrugged. "Okay."
Regina heaved a sigh. "Oh, thank goodness!" She turned and shuffled to her bed.
"Uh, lady?"
She froze. She rigidly turned her head and stared at them, wide-eyed with the right eye twitching. "What?"
Thales squirmed around in his ropes, then nodded at the blankets. "We, uh, can't grab the blankets."
Both of Regina's eyes twitched, and it was kind of unsettling to watch. She inhaled deeply through her nose, then marched up to them. "I really have devolved into being the babysitter…"