A Deaf Flame's Flicker

by Starry's Light

An incredibly thin munchlax suffering from low self-esteem butts heads with a deaf chimchar whose mouth has yet to be washed of curses, thus forcing their fates to twist and their story to be not alone but together. Now apparently they have to get along or something? And, like, be... friends, and junk? Some lives are about to change: big-time.

2. A Scramble For Recognition

Me: Yaaay! You've gotten to chapter two!

Ashley: damn right we should have a party anyone made it to chapter tw-

Me: ewe -slaps her face head-on-

Munchie: I dunno, I think it's nice. :3

Ashley: DAMMIT MUNCHIE STOP BEING SO UNREALISTICALLY KIND

Me: he is using the power of the unrealistically kind vested in him geez Ashley

A Deaf Flame's Flicker

Chapter Two: A Scramble for Recognition

The unruly scraping of long, thin, slightly-bent fingernails on dirt flooring slightly lined by bits of rock woke Munchie into life again, and out of the black portal crudely labeled sleep. He snorted, rubbed his ears, and quietly wondered why he wasn't in his cave in Sharpedo Bluff that was a much lighter, dustier brown and why did he hear scraping fingernails at all. Munchie didn't have friends, ri—

"Aw shit sorry I woke you didn't I."

Nope, he had friends. Factual evidence slammed hard into his side at the use of the curse word. The munchlax himself doubted he'd ever work up the nerve to swear like the salty sailor Ashley had to have inside of her, and thus it was evident hearing those words fall out of the orange smudge of a primate herself aggravated that sore spot. His crooked, white teeth stuck up and he chewed his lip the slightest, thoughtful. Could there be a way to wash this girl of her crude voice and outspoken ways? He... didn't like the idea of coming too close to her though. Also guilt trickled down his throat; Munchie needed to learn how to flush out that arid taste and... be courageous. Brave. Do something for once, pathetic munchlax creature thing that's painfully skinnier than usual.

As his eyes, cracked and dark, still rimmed with hope that had begun to flutter, it seemed, peeled open and emptied into flaming orbs that burnt straight through to him since the moment of waking, Munchie remembered that the girl—lady—had asked him a question—how rude it would be to go without answering her. "I... yes, you did. It's okay, Ashley."

Immediately she bounded to the next topic of interest, pudgy frame still lying haphazard on the ground but eyes flickering brightly as if flames would leap out any second. Munchie tried to scoot back, but his head bumbled into the tunnel's smooth, soft edges: only emotional pain would be in him as of yet. "Why the hell did you grab a tiny handful of fucking straw and meander off to yourself? The fuck, man?" He... should have expected that. Munchie blinked. Yeah, he expected that.

Why Ashley seemed to discontent at missing a chance to sleep beside him, Munchie couldn't tell. So... he could rub off on her? So she felt warmer—safer? Because she wanted to have him near her? Oh, geez, his head spun, that last one was a mistake. He crossed the line. Munchie—had crossed—the line. Blearily, angular ears the color of the night sky outside flopping rather horrendously, Munchie shook himself. His crooked teeth slid under his lip, all but the ones on the edges that always jutted, no matter how hard the struggle he put up. Then he lost his thread of an answer to the flaming question and his hands picked at the pale circle puffed on his chest, feeling shame heat up in him. Munchie coughed slightly, awkwardly: the awkward levels bounced off the walls. "Be-because... I... um..." Because it was weird? Because he wasn't used to that? Because he'd never had friends prior and didn't know how to do anything right? He'd use that last one but that melting-lava stare seemed to ask more. But, shrugging, mulling it over, Munchie had nothing else. "I never had friends until I met you. I'm an awkward, bumbling idiot."

"Awwww, you poor thiiiingg! My life was hell, but oh my fuck. At least I've had friends and family to pick on and keep my spirits damned alrighty. That shit must be locked all up in you! Oh but as we're letting out random secrets, just know if you think your life has gone to hell now, this isn't even the start of it. You've joined Ashley."

You've joined Ashley. Those words made him piteously pule and then sob some on the inside. The pule, though—she all right and dandy heard that part. And there came the sludge of guilt building up in him still, about Beach Cave: Munchie had a problem with letting emotional things like that go. He didn't have any real possessions to hang onto—and this had to be the first creature that had reached out to him. Or, well, sat on him, to be completely specific, but he found the words closely suited enough. And still... it caught tight up in his chest, and Munchie could hardly believe he'd come to this situation at all and wanted to burst out in spontaneous laughter—painful laughter—at the thought that he'd have even more to endure. As Ashley said—and he quoted wholly, because he liked her, and not because he liked cursing because he hated cursing and just did this for her words were complete with it—if you think your life has gone to hell now, this isn't even the start of it. Oddly, Munchie looked forward to the change of pace.

Would it be more eventful and terrifying and fur-wetting than trying to escape the cutting edges of jubilee in Treasure Town? Probably not. Guilt weighed him down—oh, right, but there was that of course. Any other emotions feel like joining ol' Guilt? Yes, Munchie deliberated. Yes. He felt that Joy had crawled up some hole and smothered his heart. Pretty sure that would show up again. Anger as well at Ashley's rash actions and altogether temerity, then collided with what could be slight idiocy, and her secrecy as well, only spilling the edges of corners for the munchlax to glean: yes, one day, one day, that would spill and it just might flame into anger. He hoped it wouldn't happen—he did a lot more hoping now too—but he felt like those fires on the deaf chimchar's bum would see end to it. End to awkward silence and no anger. He'd snap eventually. Munchie felt proud of himself for figuring this out much earlier than it would come.

Pride. There's a new one. He blinked dully at that, didn't quite know how to respond. Also that feeling—the inability to tell what now should be in his heart. Emotions ran around like miniature baby Ashley creatures by now. Already she'd cracked open his soul: if more was to come... he couldn't imagine what must be riding around in that crazy orange smudge's mind. And that scared him a little bit, staring at the girl who'd slept—oh geez—in the same room as him, almost on the—oh dang—same bedding as him, which alone felt too much to keep from spilling from his brain out his ears. Brain fluids would spill out of your ears, right? Either way, this girl... already he was at an astounding, numbing loss to the skyrocket of feelings surging on the inside. And oh, did it pound in his head like a mallet.

Yeah, he was in for a ride. Ashley had to be right. He trusted her enough—maybe even a little too much. He didn't have trust issues with coping with others, just knowing when to stop. A little like... who was it... Byrender. The bibarel whose buck-toothed mouth flowed freely. Munchie felt slightly like that in trust—but not that much all the same. Speaking of in for a ride, he soon noticed the long, pale hand clawed to his arm and tugging freely. "Come on, mooooooooove! I'm fucking bored in here!"

"Aren't we supposed to be resting right now? Like how Spirit asked?" idly wondered Munchie aloud.

Whether or not she heard him, Ashley didn't say. She probably did; the only sounds emitting in the darkened chambers were her screeching and her tugging on his scruffy pelt and arm especially. And that darn did a number. Munchie's teeth scrawled like needles from his lower lip and fanned out as he chewed fretfully and lost his footing, by then the chimchar with the odd jump and slump in step freely dragging with a charm in her step. The ragged-furred though layered creature, the target of her dragging, snorted worriedly. Then he recalled that this chimchar was deaf and probably had no idea what a racket she was starting up, or that Munchie had tried to lightly warn her of what could be coming, so therefore she had no idea what could be about to ensue upon her. In an attempt to fix the chaos before it began, Munchie started in her grasp and scrambled back from it, but he didn't go anywhere and the chimchar kept dragging without turning. He realized with sudden genius he could spit upon her orange head and garner attention if the need be. And it seemed that the need be.

The hesitation came dense, like a fog. But should he? How rude would it be to spit on a girl? A lady? An Ashley? That caused him to stop and think: are an Ashley and a lady the same thing? Well... they probably are. How rude would it be to spit like that? Very. Duh. It would garner attention, but... so close... so far... h-he couldn't spit on the dear girl. Nope. Though... the ground didn't hurt to be dragged on, so he could easily think: thanks to those layers of dusk blue fur. His only plan unto garnering said attention would be to spit on Ashley, though he didn't really like that thought. Sure, Ashley had spat on both himself and Byrender, but both times she'd meant just to spit and it was an accident not a fully-fledged plan to tick someone off or, like, garner their attention. What choice did he have, though?

Suddenly Munchie recalled the arm lying strangled to his other side and rose it in order to tap the chimchar and stop her madness. But again, his fingers hovered: couldn't work, couldn't stop, couldn't touch the chimchar and get her to stop. Munchie decided tastelessly he needed to work on this life skill at some point: this, here, this had to be failure. Pure, empty, disgusting failure. And the poor deaf didn't even know what loudness she might be causing. She quickly burst his bubble with "Wow Munchie you're fucking heavy for someone weak and dumb like me," dropped the entire arm, which came flooding back through recovery of actually feeling with the dusk thing, and faced the holy wooden door in front of her with the painted white surface and orange highlights over cusps and edges.

Bad, screamed Munchie's mind. This entire idea should be trashed right now. "Uh, Munchie? What the hell is with your face? And why to you keep, just, sitting there? You gonna get up or what? I need to ask Spirit if we can all get up and do something now because I'm really fucking bored."

Here it comes, he winced. "Pleasedon't."

A blink. Those flaming orbs surmounted him, tried to understand him, be him. "What. Oh. You spoke a little fast okay." Another blink. "Why the hell not?"

Nothing else floated at the top of his brain, so Munchie just repeated that idle little statement from prior. "Aren't we supposed to be resting now? Like how Spirit asked?" Those words sat, sifted, left there, divulged by the chimchar in front of the soft, husk-of-a-cusp voice. It took a moment, but as the silence stretched, a sudden epiphany struck the midnight blue munchlax and he nigh jumped in glee at the fact that the girl with the fire hair was actually considering his request in the first place. She might even agree with him, then they could head on back to that guest tunnel and sleep away until Spirit found the time suitable to waken them for real and have everyone do whatever this guild was supposed to do. Hopefully with food; he was starting to run a little low, as his stomach growled accordingly. Still the moments stretched. Munchie felt like a real friend.

"Yeah, but... like... Dammit, I'm done sleeping." Such a long, coordinated thought process, and it led her to that sort of an answer. Admittedly, Munchie had expected and awaited the curse in the middle of it, but... she just didn't care? So lax about it? Munchie gnawed angrily, frustrated, at his blue upper-lip, like he could count on it to shed off a light with an answer and teach that darned fire thing some manners—or something. Something at all? Any courtesy? Munchie wasn't even sure it was possible for him to lose himself to more rest, but he did this anyways for Spirit, because he didn't want to rudely intrude like Ashley apparently did. Why did she do this?

Dumbfounded, Munchie fell back to the grassy earth of the underground hill below with a thwack, staring at the chimchar on her hands and toes still elongated and pale and confusing, those fingers probably leaving ugly marks on his ears after the stretch of time in that disgusting Beach Cave place he'd rather avoid crossing again. Sniffing, staring up at her hulking, chubby figure with the flame spewing as a tail, Munchie quickly detected the heavy tang of dirt arid on the top of his mouth, wet, and dry, and musty, and earthy, and... dirty. Like dirt. Of course it smelled like dirt but with those extra scents of incense-covered Drynt, the floating elgyem, and Byrender's wet and fluffy... smell, and how Jordan smelled sharp like a battle kept coming, and Chindu's scent betrayed soft, fluffy flowery whispers and then Spirit sort of smelled like that but also the intoxicating overdose of what had to be big, plump apples from trees. And then that musty, wet—muddy—tang shifting up his nose covered by layers of wave-blue fur then.

Ashley calmly thwacked to the ground beside her single trustworthy buddy. It was sad, but Munchie particularly grew fond of the thought that he may be her only confidant—the only entity in the entire universe right then that she could toss all of her worries onto. At least, more than everyone else he knew at the time. Unless suddenly Ashley had become one of the oh so buddy-buddy creatures in the guild already. Please, no. "Hey, don't look so fucking sullen please." A sudden pale hand flashed like a ghost by his side. Did the munchlax have enough time, he would have shuddered, but the pinch on his cheek came and left so quickly it left him breathless and spilled out on the grassy, earthen-smelling atmosphere. At least, he deliberated, the chimchar wasn't tempted to bust open Spirit's door and demand something to take away her boredom. That had to be worst-case scenario. A pinch on the cheek and bumbling into the ground was not worse-case scenario, thank the heavens.

The muddy smell reappeared, as did a blue face finned and framed in shimmering sapphire. Her cheeks, of course, spiked with orange, and a strange, lighter blue fin stuck up and shadowed an eye, but still mostly blue. The rest of the princess's—he had to get over the fact that there apparently was a kingdom in the Mystery-Dungeon-laden world out there—stubby body protruded in lighter blue fins and the ocean blue—a calming, bright one, even in the fuzz of dark slightly cupped by Ashley's tail—all shimmering throughout her. Those liquid golden orbs nearly looked out of place. "Oh, hey newfangled guys! What's up?" Mystic—right, that was her name—shook out her finned forehead and offered a lofty grin. Nonchalant, like Byrender. Uh oh. Not too nonchalant, he prayed. Not a complete Byrender, he pleaded. "So I see you guys're just sitting there. I guess Beach Cave wasn't all too tiring for ya, since I'd heard you basically just sat around and did nothing while getting sniffed by the greenies, then Byrender scooped you up after he took that lovely stroll in there—he likes it there for some weird reason?—after our big secret expedition and now you've done practically nothing but sit there, be tired, and get carried. Am I right?"

The sitting around part could have been sugarcoated slightly, but Munchie nod dutifully, acceptance of the mudkip obvious in his eyes. Ashley, though, had another story. "The fuck? I did not—NOT—just sit around, dammit! I got slapped all over my shitty body by how many pokemon, then"—her voice steadily rose—"a bunch of that water really, I mean—REALLY—fucked me up, then"—her voice steadily rose—"Munchie and I, weak and woozy, lie there like idiots with nothing but each other, though he's not a bad guy and I'd rather stick with him"—her voice had declined, but then spiked—"THEN HOW MANY FUCKING POKEMON SNIFFED ME BACK THE—" Aaaannd she stopped talking after Munchie's arm flinched and drove right into her mouth. Navy blue entered slimy pink, and fluffy fingers wriggling, he twitched awkwardly. This had been the first real time he'd touched Ashley, with real choice and real action, and man, was it unpleasant. A fistful of pink, wriggling, slimy, saliva-patched internal organs. His stomach gagged, and his gag reflex tried to stomach it. Nothing fit. His fingers cried out but he didn't move for fear that his stopper being removed, those layers upon layers of fur losing their entire job, would start the screeching again. Munchie knew it'd get to him. This had to only be the beginning, as the chimchar had been talking of prior. The beginning. He winced.

"Well, I guess that's one way to stop someone from talking loud enough to wake up the entire guild!" cried Mystic merrily. The thought dawned on him that it might be ruder to call her Mystic—princess Mystic? Would it be? Then he wanted to know about those greenies as well, because what were they supposed to be? How did those things fit in? Questions floundered, but so did something in Munchie's opened and squelching fist. The fist and his stomach won, gag spiraling and losing its new job of trying to stomach it. "Oh—right. I should probably be quiet too!" That moment, her voice dropped octaves like he did with weight. "So you got any questions?"

Perfect moment to stomach it and ask. Other hand twitching for some odd reason, the one filled and clasped by open air, his soft and exceptionally-squeaky whisper stumbled a few words. "I... um... yeah..?" A blink. "Greenies. I—I mean. What are greenies."

"You don't know what greenies are?" Chewing on his lip, Munchie saw that Mystic had quickly forgotten her own rule. "Well, golly gee, why not! They're the sniffer guys that Byrender caught you getting sniffed by! Duh!" Oh how badly his other hand wanted to plant into her maw too and shut her up, but as he had first getting to know Ashley... just knowing others at all... touching others—daunted him. Guilt stuffed a slimeball in his heart good as Ashley's spit would. She seemed at ease with his hand there. But of course Mystic hadn't finished yet and tumbled out words that only grew in voice, in strength, in that odd, soft-but-silly-but-gushy-and-hint-of-royalty squeak. "You know, the corsola and everything! Their eyes are green, like the time gears!"

"Wh-what?"

She found error in her way. "A-Aaaahhhhhh! I mean... time gears! Like..." Awkward laughter splashed with that royal hint. Munchie felt like illegal information—or another affair about the lumineon's sister—had reached his strange, triangular, just outright angular ears. "...l-like... kingdom stuff!" He didn't know of these kingdom stuff and therefore couldn't tell Mystic he had his suspicions—which of course came from eavesdropping—which of course was embarrassing and he didn't want to talk about that no way no how. "Sorry, I guess commoners wouldn't understand. Eh-heh!" Yep, he had her. Also, Munchie just didn't have the heart to tell Mystic's bright, watery face and golden, shimmering eyes that he completely understood she was trying to cover up something secret. This... royalty girl, whatever, could have been telling the whole truth, honestly. The blushing munchlax only knew the difference because he... eavesdropped way too much. More red streaked over his cheeks.

Still he continued to forget one of his hands tangled with the organs in Ashley's mouth. She didn't bite him, oddly, or spew out his hand. When Munchie's eyes turned, yes, the flaming orbs still drew him on, wide and open and definitely moving. Awake. Conscious. His hand was in her mouth, why wouldn't she stop staring at him like that. The glazed fear in his dark orbs from Mystic's idiot chatter seemed to be reflecting into hers, and before he could say a word one of those pale hands went smack and he realized Mystic had still been blabbing—and thus he'd lost himself in Ashley's flaming eyes. They... they did happen to be pretty. He choked at the notion: what was going on with him today? Well, he reasoned, the mudkip with a pale hand in her maw also had pretty gold orbs. So... that was something. He found the girls cute, so what? Was that... bad, or something? No no couldn't be. He shook himself fiercely, with the ferocity of a great battle warrior locked in heroic combat. All of that good stuff from the bedtime stories spread as gossip in Treasure Town—Munchie... hadn't had anyone tell him those things on their own. Again, he was skinny and everything. A disease. Ashley, again, the first pokemon reached out to him that seemed comfortable with him. Right, right. He felt awkward and transparent.

Munchie removed his hand from Ashley's mouth as her tongue grazed by, like a notice of let-me-talk-please with a curse or so tacked on unevenly. Always the curses with her. "Soooooo, fucker princess lady thing." He winced; smooth. "Let's all try to be quiet so we don't wake anyone up, mm? Can our shit brains all hold those thoughts together, now? Can we all please made a damn promise about that?" Suddenly her eyes whirled around and stabbed their flaming pits of pupils right into Munchie's hide, and he squeaked under what felt like real burns scrawling into him. "Damn promise? Munchie?"

"U-uh..." Those golden orbs of Mystic's cut like the metal itself as well, and he wanted to howl in this emotional turmoil that no one else would even be able to try and comprehend, but oh, oh oh oh, did it scrawl down his flank and burn like nothing else. This catharsis of an upheaval made him want to choke on his heart and other important internal things, like the stuff he'd felt in Ashley's just then. Those strange, pink, gooey globules seemed easy enough to spew over and lose one's breath about. Easy enough, at least. "U-mmm... I..." Damn promise? Damn promise? Munchie? Damn promise? It reflected painfully like a mirror crashing down on him. "Y-yeah... I darn p-promise..?"

And she whirled back around so easily, attention from the water type flat in front of her switching with gold orbs from Munchie to Ashley, then her fiery flames of a tail, flickering jovially, becoming the fire he stared at, instead of eyes. But those eyes stung enough to be fire. He just felt it in his heart. "Damn promise? What are you? Princess lady?" A peeping whisper struck back at Munchie through the corner of his... friend's lip: "whatwashernameagain?"

"Mystic!" hers truly squeaked.

"M-Mystic.." yours truly mumbled weakly and stupidly.

The fiery orbs didn't even glance at him. Should he feel grateful, or relieved, or sad? Wait why sad? Who... cared? This was just his friend not looking at him, seriously, Munchie, is that so much to get worked up about? Is that really worth it? He hated to admit how worth it he felt about that silly thing. Just eyes. Just eyes, Munchie. He didn't think he'd get so overprotective after managing to make a friend. More guilt. That emotion sure liked to rear its head at him. He hoped he'd rear his own crooked-toothed face at it, get that thing away. Maybe one day, like, after he stopped being so skinny, which would never happen, and thus entered a loophole that would never start or end whatsoever.

"Mystic, damn promise?"

"Yep, totally!" She'd already broken the darn promise.

"Uuugghhh, why are you guys getting so worked up about a promise?" a new voice entered. Flowery, soft, not all that masculine, and singsong. That... Chindu. The chatot that... liked Spirit a lot. Munchie blinked through the thought of it. Maybe this was why these sorts of pokemon flocked around the guild. Though he supposed that meant he and Ashley only fit in better because of it. Himself especially—like a disease. "Seriously. We're just about to eat our apples and you guys are... what are you even doing? It's not an occult again, is it? It'd better not be an occult." Munchie immediately shuddered, because the rainbow-backed, slightly-lax, slightly-overworked birdy didn't seem like a joker.

Mystic angrily squealed back—yep, broke her promise—"Hey! SuperCool Mystic Fan Club was not an occult, for your information, Chindu! Geez, how many times do I have to tell ya before it's nailed into your head? Is there even a limit with you?" Oh these guys were definitely used to each other. He would stick out like his crooked rows of teeth. Like his thin frame in a jumble of real munchlaxes. "Besides, it was something I did back when I was just out of my egg and Mom and Dad were introducing me here for the first time. Back when it all was started, and I got everyone to be in my fan club because I was so cute back then!"

"Which means you're not cute now?" He honestly couldn't tell if Chindu had a wicked deadpan or joked. Everything he'd heard the chatot squawk sounded questionable, like it should've been fake and unreal, but wasn't. This entire guild felt surreal and strange as it tried to wrap around his head and succeeded to stuff cotton balls instead, only further causing confusion.

"I am so cute, Chindu!"

"Well, as you've already said to everyone for the umpteenth time, I am gay, so that doesn't make you cute to me."

"Oh my goodness you guys." That hard, dark edge had to be Jordan, the female gallade... thing. Up and running. Here to talk smack with these other pokemon that seemed for family to her than anything else, judging by their seemingly unnoticed and unintentional closeness that everyone just mutually spluttered out. Munchie and Ashley sat there awkwardly as the other team members petered out, each with their own flowery dialogue to mix in, making it obvious who said what.

"By golly, you guys! Talking about our gay leaders again, are we?" Nonchalant. Lax. Byrender.

"You're going to bust a brain vessel at this point. All of you. Never have, never will, but you should." Calm and a little cold and a little kind. Drynt.

"I feel like they already have." That dark slash of an edge. Jordan.

"Well, that'd have to include you, my girlie girlfriend! Eeey!" Squeaky and uncaring and Mystic.

"We're going to wake up Spirit at this point." Worried about his boyfriend. Chindu.

Munchie found it quite easy to decipher conversations after his entire life spent on eavesdropping. If only those words could pertain to actual use somewhere other than making listening to large terrifying crowds of pokemon easy. Though those words always relayed further to addled nonsense as it was, so again he was left with no real use. Again he thought of how he was more cast to the side, more useless, just picking up affairs for characters like those octillery and lumineon mates to find reason to pitch him over and all of those lovely, happy, wonderful things. It choked him up, did. The words continued to spill over him, nonsense, banter, and still he could understand them easily, and still he felt useless but it was okay because he was used to being useless.

Then a pinch. "What the hell are they all talking about?" came a whisper from the short chimchar struggling to wobble close enough to his ear. Of—of course Ashley had no idea what was going on. Should he, like... help her? He supposed it would be rude not to. And this was a lady—Ashley, at that, but Ashley was still a lady, and he should always help ladies. So quietly, leaning awkwardly down into her ears tinged with orange, Munchie coded the words for her eyes to read on his lips. She agreed that the banter was useless too but kept asking—well, more ordering, a little stating—him to continue on, and those orbs lit up when something laughable came off. Sure, the banter had to still be with no use, but at least Ashley enjoyed it some. That mattered. A little. Maybe.

At some point, lost in the sound of voices and his own actually helping the chimchar who continuously uttered curses and laughter at each remark, then Mystic called him fat, then Byrender smirked and stuck out an arm and then Jordan refused angrily, very angry, and Drynt didn't do much but meditate again, and eventually Spirit sauntered in and added his own swagger as well, causing a great raucous which brought that sliver of joy to stick in Munchie's throat when he could see his... friend... laugh. Like a chemical reaction, the light in her eyes and the giggle and the uttered curse or so, followed by another curse, followed by another laugh. Chemical reaction. Science in the works. And, the munchlax saw easily again, like shafts of light had pierced the old floorboards that were the attic of his brain, that he seriously did like Ashley. When she didn't get so coarse... Had Munchie mentioned before that he really didn't like fighting? But he knew he would end up quarreling against Ashley anyways? He swore, he liked her. She was nice—just... nice, in her own way. Not kind, but... nice. Simply nice. He wondered if he had the courage in him to tell her that.

Guilt socked him in the gut for such a thought. No, he did not. If Munchie couldn't even warm her poor wet self when she was soaking thin, how would he muster the bravery and might in him to actually tell her meaningful words that might actually make her give a nice smile like how nice she was? That alone dizzied him, as if all the air in the world had been stolen and now he couldn't breathe, oh dang. How painful. How piteous.

"Okay, okay, how about we all actually digest apples now? I say we all go digest apples. I'm really hungry now." And it seemed finally Ashley would get what she wanted from Spirit: to do something. The way those fiery orbs flickered and outright screamed with their own pupil-coated curse and she sprinted on her hands and feet—like she always did—for that one area ducked to their far right that must have been the mess hall where all of these apples were stored. Spirit really seemed to like apples. Munchie guessed he wouldn't get... too sick of them. Maybe. Oh well; one step at a time. An abundance of apples would satisfy his stubborn stomach anyway—right, he wasn't picky, and as long as that lumbering monster got food when it asked for food, he'd be okay. The stampede of everyone else in this odd guild working in what had to be the peak of night—yes, they did happen to be tired from their thing prior, but still, the middle of the night seemed a little weird—a crazy ensemble of moving colors, some fur, some skin, some fins, some hard gem-like surface that Drynt could be described as, and also something the fins called gay feathers: oh, his arm ached with Ashley's slowly-drying spit.

Upon entering that elongated underground room with windows decked over the walls with small beams the only things supporting the earthen ceiling above, the smell of peat overwhelming but also nice though it did make him sneeze, Munchie found what had to be the most insane, shakiest, strangest, most worrying, scariest stack of red circles he had ever seen before—and would ever see again. Apples, apples, apples, shades of red all over the place, easily overcoming every single other color in the entire room, even the earthy walls with silvery stones randomly embedded, and then the grassy floors traversing to walls, and even Ashley's flickering tail casting a ghostly orange glow couldn't possibly match with the sheen of red. Just... red. And the characters of the guild so casually plucked an apple apiece and settled around a wooden platform—table—flat on the ground, chattering as juice dribbled from their lips and chunks of golden yellow apple crunched and splattered. Even uptight Jordan had her face smudged with juice. He giggled; he couldn't help it. Luckily he actually fit in and snatching a couple of apples, as he'd probably need both of them unlike everyone else, managed to stumble to the ground and... eat. Like... eat. Chew. Gobble. He didn't talk or try to offer tidbits of conversation, as he was still trying to adjust to the characters swarmed around him, though Ashley easily ensconced between the large, brown, fluffy Byrender and large, thin, angular Jordan.

Munchie earned a glare from Spirit for the more-than-one apples, but Chindu growled something under his scarlet beak and the wigglytuff stopped glaring his cloudy green eyes. Unintentionally the greenies popped into his mind at those orbs of Spirit's. Funny... how he's a leader of a guild set out to exploring Mystery Dungeons, as he assumed they did, and his eyes matched the pokemon some of those magic vats of strange magic spawned. But he felt sure Spirit wasn't—wasn't—one of them. Else he'd be sniffing arms and would have that untidy inability to actually use coherent brains with coherent thoughts. So it became obvious what he was, end of story. Munchie wasn't sure he could get played into a guild that had one of those... things... for a leader, but then again he probably could; his only other entity-to-entity connection had to do with a chimchar who boggled his mind enough as it was.

Judging by his new—newer—friends—newer than even Ashley—he'd be in for a ride. And still that message swirled about, locked in his mind. If you think your life has gone to hell now, this isn't even the start of it. Of course, wincing to the curse word tenderly thorny in there all the same, she must have been crazy to think life could get weirder than whatever insane expeditions this team had to go on. Staring about at the vast majority of fully-evolved creatures, Munchie vaguely wondered if he, himself, would ever choose to become a snorlax, once he'd gotten older and pubescent junk like that to let him evolve. Not that he wasn't mentally fully-grown, but evolution could be described as puberty in some ways. At least, the bumbling creatures in Treasure Town called it that. Though then again, most of the pokemon there weren't evolved as it was. Should he keep questioning his eavesdropped information or live with it? Or just drop it? Probably the happy, polite choice would be to leave it, let it go, so that no one else comes after him all scary, but... these were his eavesdrops. They kind of sort of meant something to him. That was sad, Munchie, real sad.

Angrily shaking out his fluffy, scruffy flank, hoping the sweet apple juice hasn't corrupted his fur and left streaks, which would just give him more the reason to feel useless, if nothing else, the dusk-colored creature stood up on his thin, pale, ovular feet and brushed his layered flank off some. Not a catastrophe. He'd live. Probably. Hopefully. Maybe? Munchie shook himself again like it would discard his annoying apple-cores of thoughts he's rather get rid of. Though Munchie did eat his own literal apple cores: after all, he's a munchlax, and he'll eat anything. He probably shouldn't eat his old, disgusting ideas. Would that give his mind a stomachache? Was that even humanly possible? He was hanging out with other pokemon too much if these were the kinds of ideas to be floating around at all times. It was creepy and worrisome.

Aaaannd yet he stuck around. "Young children! And also Byrender and Jordan, who might be older than me if—what, what'd you say? You can't grow older than me if I was born first? Well whatever you say, smart guy—well you look older! Geez! Can I give my announcement or not?" He and Chindu shared this tango of a glance that seemed like they couldn't figure out what was supposed to happen next. Their heads bobbled and their eyes twitched some, then Spirit blinked those cloudy green and gave a shrug that let Munchie see, rest assured, he was in some shaky hands. "Oookay then. We'll do our chore-like stuff, then have some down time so nobody turns nocturnal"—snickers in the back let Munchie see, rest assured, this wasn't the first time Spirit made such comment and he seemed to know what he was talking about, like he'd accidentally turned nocturnal before?—"and then we'll go on some nearby expeditions so bumbling little Munchie and Andrew don't get lost or anything."

Yeah, that sounded alright—wait a darn second. "It's Ashley."

"Okay, Ashley and Andrew."

"NO! I mean Ashley's the chimchar, I'm Munchie, and nobody is Andrew!" Goodness, where did that name even come from? Did he forget or something? Did he forget a lot? Munchie hoped not; his face blared bright red from that incursion and his fur twitched unceremoniously. Well at least that seemed to clear a few things up. Over across the wooden, slightly-rickety, very-unstable-looking table showed that pair of fiery eyes wedged between a nice, foggy black—Byrender—and those orbs he couldn't even see due to turquoise bangs—Jordan. To his left, he realized, was the patiently still-chewing Drynt who didn't stop floating off the ground like he had an issue with the dirt. Munchie didn't know, maybe he did, maybe he didn't, maybe he just liked floating all the time, and the munchlax idly wondered if the green-skinned-rock-like elgyem—like a gem?—floated while he slept at night. Maybe the air's comfortable enough for some pokemon, or he's used to it, or you know what Munchie, maybe he didn't sleep in the air at all but on the hay on the ground given to him. Jaded eyes mixed in areas in what seemed to be all colors burning down his face glared over at him, Drynt's polite asking of why are you staring at me so intently. Assuring himself Mystic, already finished with her apple and currently licking those stubby blue paws with the fins hanging about, sat nearby on that end, the munchlax turned his gaze back to Spirit and Chindu beside him. They seemed to be in a heated debate about what Ashley's name was. Good, he hadn't missed anything.

They're arguing about his first friend's name. Should he... like... step in or something? Try to fix that area? Try to be helpful? It didn't involve... touching anyone... with his hands... which seemed a step easier. He still couldn't bring himself to lay a finger on a soul. Not one. It took all of his pent-up anger and willpower and courage and bravery to swerve a hand into Ashley's mouth that last time, a feat he still found unbelievable. In the midst of their battle, Chindu Ashley v. Spirit Andrew, Munchie quickly scooted over and squeaked: "Oh, no no, I am completely committed to the fact that it's Ashley."

"Awwwwwww." Spirit scowled. His orange-tinged ears flopped over and his big, round face pinched together some. "Oh, whatever. If I ever miraculously have a kid I'm naming it Andrew." Chindu angrily huffed something about how impossible that was—very—and Spirit, with a green-eyed blink, continued trying to explain what was going on in the first place so everyone could focus on those strange chore-like things and work hard on not becoming nocturnal. "Aw, now I have to do explain-y stuff. We all know I suck in this department, so if anyone feels like I missed an important something or another, fill these poor tots in for me." Every time he used a synonym for the word or child itself, Munchie wanted so badly to correct the wigglytuff. "Aaaanyways, chores are where we all try to make this big beautiful creation as pretty as possible. Sooooo we scrub off the table, and we sweep around the rooms, and we make bedding spots if there's someone new with us—you guys need some legit bed places seriously Byrender we gotta do something—just the normal tidy-up stuff. We don't have a list or anything. Just try to make things that look bad, look good. Any questions?

Munchie had many. "Okay, great! You do that, then go to sleep or something, and in the morning we'll go do some exploring! I really freaking love exploring." A pocket of space opened, allowing everyone to mumble about how many times he said this and how very well they knew this. Very. Very well. Ashley didn't say much, just stared up at her huge friends and blinked cheerfully back at Munchie, to where he awkwardly stared at Drynt for another few seconds as the guy continued slowly, painfully slowly gnawing on that apple with his tiny green mouth. "Yep okay. Drynt you do what you're doing, you know we'll buzz off and do the other rooms, and you clean the table once you're done. Tidy up the mess hall. Would that make it a clean hall?" He waited for applause. Munchie was tempted to clap, but everyone else stared daggers at Spirit, so he wasn't quite sure what to do. "That was a pretty good joke, I don't know what you guys are thinking. Well... you guys clean up the other rooms. You know, the outside, the bedding stops, the map place, aaaand I'll get off my lazy butt to clean mine and Chindu's cave. Chindu you help them. Sound good?"

Jordan sat up, making her tower all the more above Munchie. Shivers of her turquoise hair arced, and that mean-looking red dagger jutting through the middle of her chest—thank goodness it wasn't lopsided—shined in the nearby glow of Ashley's orange-red-yellow tail. "I guess it's okay. I mean we have to clean up at some point. We can't go on expeditions all the time, and this is our home."

"Oh, Jordan, you'll make a wonderful mother one day," murmured Chindu, "very responsible."

"Unless she goes lesbian," added Spirit.

"Shut up," grumbled the chatot beside him.

"But you did. Well... you went gay."

"I said shut up we don't have to talk about this especially with everyone ri—"

"But you like did!" The mates—was that even the right word?—kept on squabbling, but the scruffy blue mammal between all of this felt slightly lost, a little woozy, to be placed in the middle of these creatures who so obviously fit together well. Apparently—he and Ashley were supposed to somehow grow used to this place and fit in as well? He... maybe he could do that? Yeah? It seemed likely... ish. A little. His mind felt too boggled to think of much else but those random, idle thoughts he'd grasp at and try to use that would ultimately fall through. Like if Drynt floated when he was asleep—why were these weirdo notions even floating around like Drynt at all? He felt like he was going insane, but he assumed it only meant he was actually not alone anymore, and that struck some interesting thoughts inside because he'd never had this sort of creepy installation ever prior. Munchie felt sure that whenever he fell asleep again, the void of black would be gone and he'd have some pretty messed up dreams sneaking up his way.

"Oh. Yeah. We should go clean now." With a smirk after Spirit's lively tone, the other pokemon in the guild easily flounced off, leaving Drynt to continue slowly chewing his apple and cleaning the mess hall on his own which seemed like something he was used to well enough as Munchie and Ashley turned their gazes and his dark, ugly orbs took in her light, fiery ones and they both had absolutely no idea what they should do. Spirit filed off for his and Chindu's sleeping area, but the black-headed chatot himself diverted his attention for the lagging pokemon dully blinking and feeling—at least for Munchie—like idiots.

He spoke again in that soft singsong voice, kindly assuring the new members what the heck was supposed to be going on right now. "The others are most likely cleaning out the outside area—the place with the grass just out of this mess hall—and they'll be scooping out all of the bedding and the like, making it nicer, smell better, and they'll apply for you as well, probably let you stay in the same room. They're... thoughtful like that." He tittered softly, sweetly. It seemed Chindu was much kinder when the others weren't so boisterous, like... a fatherly figure. He could be rowdy and nice, too. "I'll take you both up to the map place, the room just above this floor, and we can help tidy up in there some. A few Mystery Dungeons on there have invalid errors I'll deal with, but you guys should just clean out the dust, the mites, the mold"—the mold?—"and we can take down any maps that might have too much mildew on them, make a copy. Sound good?" Well personally no the mold did not sound good at all why was there mold in this guild it looked so nice and yet there was mold. Icky green and blue fronds of pure destruction, tearing down everything in their path—and it's disgusting. Disgusting like Mystery Dungeons, but not with the ability of being magical. Munchie swore, if there happened to be dung or something plastered to the walls... he didn't want to find out how he'd end that statement.

A titter. "I'll take that as a yes." The burgundy beak with that hint of a lighter, chipper red nosed upward, toward the mess hall's gaping opening of an exist. Munchie and Ashley, exchanging another glance as she whispered "oh fuck" under her breath, blue over red, collided with a slight bump and stumbled after the flitting chatot whose colorful wings easily captured their attention—especially Ashley's, he saw, as she seemed to have quite the short span of it. Munchie, meanwhile, edged past Drynt, awkwardly trying to keep back from him while looking casual while looking kind while looking apologetic, but the weight of trial and error became too clumsily much and the tall creature of dusky blue easily tripped and sent the chimchar beside him easily reeling as well. Her step had a lurch to it, and she walked as casually as one using her hands and bent-legs to walk on could. Why did she do that? Why did she always bend her legs? Was it something like a chimchar thing where she couldn't fully walk on feet alone or something, or did she just like it? Too many questions. Too many variables. Too many unknown specimen protruding into his life like his crooked teeth, like more crooked teeth, all poking out in awkward formations. Ashley would be the new orange smudge, Spirit could be a shiny white, Chindu with a black outline and rainbow middle, Jordan's a layer of green and turquoise and white, and Byrender huge and brown, and Drynt could be emerald green or something, and Mystic would shimmer sloppy blue.

His mouth ached at the thought of it, of all of these specimen hanging out in his maw now. Not that he did, but metaphorical weight was surprisingly heavy. Perhaps each of his actual teeth had doubled so each new pokemon in his life could be in there, and now the jagged, white surfaces resembled boulders more than actual things to chew stuff with—bad because he ate a lot—and he would stumble a lot more. Munchie scuttled and lifted the fur around his feet awkwardly, feeling like a foolish girl in flouncy fur, like one of those delphox guys—a male like him that might understand—and managed to end up at the rickety, wooden ladder at the left side of the walls, where that hole poked out. Before crawling over there, Munchie's dark blue orbs with the flaky hope as a rim pointed out those scoops of holes in the brown and green walls of grass and dirt, where a pair lined the corner of the back wall and another pair right next to them, in the same corner but on the right wall. So he'd be sleeping in there and probably Ashley would accompany him unless one of the pokemon—he had Jordan, Mystic, and Byrender to consider for—decided differently for some reason and thus didn't happen. Would he... have to sleep with the boys? Did it matter? Well... Chindu and Spirit probably slept together, now that he thought about it. Face crying out in shameful red, the munchlax ran for his friend and the chatot calmly waiting.

Well, the chatot calmly waited. "Hell, man, you fucking froze and just stared. Then your face got all fire red like the fire on my ass, and you ran really fast and shit I did not know you could run that fast, holy hell!" Today Ashley learned that he could run fast if he needed to, and shamefully, he used to do that every single day after watching clouds in order to find his supper and then watch the sunset and then go back to Sharpedo Bluff and sleep until morning, and the cycle repeated. Running involved between watching clouds and watching the sunset. Yes they were different things. And they both were very important to Munchie... until then. "Weelll, what the fuck, let's just go already. Am I right gay man."

"You don't have to refer to me by that!" he squawked back. Munchie's face grew redder by the moment. "Seriously, young woman. It's Chindu, and just Chindu."

"I'm not that fucking young," she grumbled back. "Why I even—"

"Are we going to clean the map... place... thing?" Munchie awkwardly intervened after deciding he didn't want to hear what the end of his new friend's statement was. Felt creepy. He knew enough anyway, what with all the eavesdropping that would never serve him in life even though that was it, his entire life, used up to listening to others and their stories. Most stories, he found the hard way, were meant to be told, while there were a few meant for certain ears alone. And most of the time those few stories meant to be told for certain ears alone were told, he heard them, and he shouldn't have. And that was how Munchie worked. Until then. This happened to be completely uncharted territory, and he didn't know whether he should feel comfortable to that notion or not—and probably not maybe. Maybe a little. A lot. Maybe a lot. This completely uncharted territory, where everything shined or molded—literal molded—new, and it felt like Munchie couldn't belong but it seemed he and the filthy-mouthed deaf chimchar beside him would as well. And these new creatures entangled to him like the knots in his fur would be sure of it. Chindu himself had already lent... a wing.

Such proof spelled out obvious as the munchlax clambered up the wooden ladder only precariously held as one solid thing by ropes, a great many ties of knotted ropes, that somehow lined up and up and formed a real ladder and it shook underneath his pathetic weight and pathetic shaking hands but somehow the dusk blue mammal had scaled it and found himself facing the walls of maps again, save the occasional bare patch or window. A couple of windows, facing eye to eye on the right and left walls, seemed the only exception there. Not even the ceiling or floor was found clean of those green surfaces scrawled with lines: directions. Assists. Maybe a name. Like that one over there, Waterfall Cave, what with the crashing down waves of a waterfall and the forlorn, lone cave beside it. That spelled out what he was sure to be quite the wet adventure. Lumbering a single step back, the true fullness of green surmounting every corner it could massed in Munchie's gut and eye, the patterned leaves sewing each parchment fit to write for as one and melding it in, and allowing those green markers to leave lines and whatnot to show off its knowledge.

The claws of Chindu's burgundy talons scaling the ladder, then Ashley's sagging motion that confused him, followed, and the chatot lifted his beak to reach Munchie's ear well enough. That tattered, angular atrocity. "A mite impressive, isn't it?" the chatot chirped. "But there are the other maps. With the mold. That need to go. Also dusting off the surfaces would be quite the help as well. We... hardly clean this place. I can't even remember the last time we had chores. It's a little out of hand, but it works well enough. So... if there's mold, get some more leaves from that pile over there"—a clawed talon gestured for that pile over there, a wedge in the right stuffed with, surprise surprise, leaves—"use the sap to stick them together, and you can quickly trace over the lines and stick it back up. Easy enough, eh?"

Right there and then, the wimpy mammal put his foot down on the matter that he was not going to touch a particle of that mold. He didn't care what he did—dusted, whatever—but that filth... he could not stand the idea of that filth on him. Yeah, Munchie was yucky and ragged and scraggly and tattered, but mold kind of... He liked cleanliness and tried to keep himself tidy enough, outside of the skinniness or crooked teeth he couldn't actually change. Mold—now mold was a disgrace that should never have been wrought into existence. Disgusting. Outright horrid. Munchie did not like the idea of molding enough that he took off, scampering about the leaf-holds that did not have anything on them, stuck them off the walls or ceiling or floor, and shook out the mat, then easily plastered it back in line. Already the great pause in the ground from map to map made it obvious where the one pulled off for shaking was supposed to go. And the harder and more focused the munchlax became, the more he realized that Zundentun was terrifyingly huge and he hadn't even realized. A vast land chock-full of clusters and clusters of those Mystery Dungeons soaking up the natural world as anyone knew it, filling all portions but Treasure Town, and then there were spots in those Dungeons like some place hastily labeled with a drawing of a castle that must have been Mystic's home where other pokemon, real pokemon, not greenies—that word was really weird—lived. Really lived. And they didn't act all cool and happy and junk then go and pitch out a chimchar as cool as Ashley, who really did feel as if coolness radiated upon her fine physique. Though the bent-leg thing was still weird.

Real lives. They... He swallowed. They'd accept him, then? Like really think he was... okay? Maybe? And not toss him out for being useless? Even the maybes rung happy bells in him. Maybe happened to be different from no, so drastically different and new that even the word that still hung out nowhere near the cool club that was yes but yet so far from the dumpster that was no: it meant something to him. A legit something he didn't like to think of giving away so easily. After he'd folded back the castle drawing and made sure its pretty surface didn't corrupt by dust, Munchie tried to pry himself from the thought of other pokemon not hating him, but it was too tantalizing, too insane, to resist. He had to. He needed it. Yes—needed. How sad of him.

Soon enough papers flew by and the leaves beneath his skin roughly felt the same with their green, identically fuzzy composure that he wanted to hug. It seemed slightly challenging to hug leaves, though. Eventually the moment came where his hand splayed out and traced against something even softer, thicker, and then it arced with curdle. He'd just... touched... he'd just... he... he... mold. MOLD. MOLD MOLDMOLDMOLDMOLDMOLdMoldmolDMOLDmoldmoldMOldmoldmoldmold MOLD.

The first thought in Munchie's mind was run and never ever come back ever again and escape forever from the universe no matter what he had to do. The next thought stumbled in, woozy, sweaty, wondering why the heck he'd touched it in the first place, and how he didn't realize. The next smirked and cupped him on the back, told him to be a man about it. The final thought spoke at him to stop listening to the voices in his head and do something about the mold. So he did. His hand shot out and smacked into Ashley's mouth—oh. Oh. Bad idea. Bad bad bad very bad idea. He might have aimed for Chindu but he only trusted Ashley.

"What the hell is this soft shit on my lips? ...Oh. Ohhhh. Ew. Dammit, Munchie. Oh well, I'll live. It's just plant shit or another." A wild fling of spit with ptoo and a wad of gooey clear liquid mixed in by bits of putrid green showered upon Chindu's rainbow-feathered back. His clear blue orbs shifted into Ashley's fiery ones and the chatot fell into a nadir of screeching at her, to which the chimchar stuck out her little pink tongue, removed a rather large, hairy bit of pluming turquoise, waddled up to the black-headed bird, and stuck it to the flap riding up his head. "You're fucking gorgeous." She winked. He spat. There wasn't any mold on his tongue but he spat anyway, and Munchie's hand caught the wad of water in midair—sort of water—and the rest of the mold washed off. By then, they had already cleaned up most of the mold and mildew and, well, uninteresting dust, if you just so happened to be the minority in the group—Munchie—and the maps soon shined again once thrust into their domain again.

Chindu smiled, Munchie wheezed, and Ashley casually commented, "Why the hell do these things shine so brightly? Not only is it fucking night time, but I mean they're damn maps: when in the name of shit does a map act like the sun? I mean seriously, this is a SERIOUS QUESTION, dammit." Munchie wheezed again. Chindu's smile didn't even waver. He wanted to clap for that, but he didn't really know how to without looking so awkward, so in the end, the munchlax didn't clap whatsoever. He sighed to himself and his soul mentally applauded for the chatot anyways. It felt not as strong, but at least he wanted to. It's just... his skimpy willpower. Yuck.

Chindu and crew would have stumbled down to the bottom floor and gratefully passed out as soon as they hit the grass below, but just as their dust-and-spit-littered bodies found the energy after cleaning to amble down that rickety ladder, a cloud-white sight for sore eyes popped up with those floppy orange ears and Spirit commanded through a big, terrifying smile on his face that everyone go exploring now, and they'd stay awake until they could pass out later the next night because that obviously was the easiest and perfect idea to keep everyone happy and not nocturnal. Chindu's black face light up like Ashley's tail and he seemed ready to just wing it but the other members of the guild stumbled in behind Spirit like the unintentional bodyguards they were—strong and lean Jordan, strong and huge Byrender, tiny and squeaky and not-so-helpful Mystic—so in the end, as always, assured the other team members, Spirit got hit way and everyone else put up with it because it didn't really matter in the end.

As long as nobody turned nocturnal, it seemed like everyone else just shrugged it on. Even the bigger guys who could chuck the oddly-colored wigglytuff out like Jordan or Byrender, but no, they scuttled on like one big happy family. He recalled what the leader had voiced earlier and decided that yes, it was possible for the gay bird and gay mammal to have children. The guild members counted in a way. They all worked together in the end, and smiles ran for miles, so that was always good. It seemed himself and Ashley even somehow weren't despised, which was like the best thing that could ever happen to him. This... being liked thing. Odd. Scary. Nice a little.

"Oooookay. So we've got go hit the rounds." There were rounds. "I just absolutely need for us to hit our regulars. All of them. Okay? Okay. Great chat." What. "So as usual... that means we ride the Steam Cave entrances and hook us up to Waterfall Cave, then we'll take a detour through the Amp Plains and Mount Bristle area, then we should scoot for Brine Cave and take the route around Foggy Forest back some, then if anyone feels like riding the Steam Caves back for Beach Cave like last time, heck, whatever, do that too." They seemed to use that little Beach Cave place as a final stop if anyone wanted it often enough. It was the entire reason Byrender had found them in the first place. Spirit, before leaving the map room, pitched his head back and shouted, "DRYNT! GET YOUR GREEN GEM-STUDDED BUM OVER HERE BEFORE WE FORGET YOU!"

That explained his bout of unease. They'd forgotten Drynt. And it seemed like this happened a lot. That sounded... a little sad... to think the levitating elgyem might actually be used to the whole losing-himself routine. Heck, the munchlax had never seen an elgyem until Drynt himself, which kind of meant a lot since he saw all of the lively creepers of Treasure Town every single day until Ashley popped up in his life and changed all of that. Munchie shook himself; they'd get him. He didn't move from the bottom rung of that next ladder until the slim, emerald figure passed up, still floating without brushing by the ground even once.

And then... they were off. Munchie labeled the names and counted by finger, from thumb to pinkie. Spirit, Drynt, Byrender, Jordan, Mystic. Then Chindu was his other thumb, and Ashley became the other pinkie. He could be a nail clipping or something. Didn't matter where he fell, but he hugged his hands to himself like a full-blown nincompoop all the same. They had started mattering to him: real-life creatures had starting being meaningful to his idiot self. That had to be saying something. Anything at all. This never happened before. A first-time thing.

What Munchie learned from his guild leader, next-in-command, and fellow guild-mates was that their whole Mystery Dungeon thing literally consisted of exploring. Wholehearted exploring. They didn't do a thing else but, after exiting the guild and running off from the tented city of Treasure Town, disappear down orange, rocky valves of steam and traverse those passages some: always have to have at least one partner, Spirit's single rule. That he had a rule at all was impressive, but Munchie found himself touched by the thought in what the wigglytuff had decided for his crew, his cloudy green eyes poking out in rays of sunlight. Yes, sunlight. Joy. Wow. But either way, Spirit obviously cared and he didn't even seem to notice when jolly, buck-toothed Byrender meandered to his side, deep tone reverberating rather nicely to that voice of his. Jordan pulled to Chindu's side, then Drynt's emerald body whizzed after Byrender, and Munchie and Ashley soon wandered down a bit with Mystic chattering avidly to their side.

Munchie mumbled words with his mouth and watched as his smudged chimchar partner, like magic, repeated what she read back to him without even needing his voice. The finned princess bumbling behind them casually talked to a rather high frequency about her life. "So well Mommy and Daddy decided once I was older I could go here, since they knew Spirit very well and we visited him all the time. Which was reaaaaal fun! And then I ended up running away so I could go there, and it was great because Buner didn't find out!" Buner, he realized much later than he would have liked, was the name of her older brother who happened to be some evolution called a marshtomp, but he didn't get the throne just because he was older since apparently Mommy and Daddy found that their daughter would be much more promising. Also, Buner wanted to be in a band. And an occult. And a lot of things that spiked Munchie's blood pressure. "So, you know, one day I'll probably be a queen guild member that fights alongside all of my buddies like Spirit and everyone and it'll be awesome! I'll be an explorer princess girl!" Personally, the tenderhearted idiot munchlax didn't want to be the one to break it to her that she probably wouldn't be allowed to do both things at once, especially not by her parents, the king and queen. Of what, exactly? "Well... mm. Maybe I should check in on my parents some time. I kind of never told them I'd be running away. I just did... and Spirit got all cranky... then we never visited. But Fyshyngtyn might be missing me! Duh, I'm their princess! Oh, geez... I never thought of that. My poor, poor parents." Oh. So the kingdom called themselves Fyshyngtyn. Okay.

Ashley seemed to keep flickering her flaming orbs over everything, like she was durantsy about an upcoming event about to spill over them. He couldn't think of what might be going on in her mind, but she didn't seem to like it. Fingers in her mouth, Ashley looked ready to accidentally gnaw one off. And those lovely red-and-yellow-and-orange orbs skittered hazily, locked in some daze she couldn't shake off. Mystic continued babbling about her home and her princess life and royalty, all that good stuff little girls had to get out of their system at times, and Munchie politely nodded when needed and asked a couple questions. He wasn't too bad at keeping conversation rolling. Eavesdropping must have been its source.

Upon surfacing from the steam-infested cave that was more a network of cracked, orange corridors, the explorer group resurfaced in one piece at the ridge before slippery, silvery stones, which edged into a glistening blue stream which edged into a great waterfall which edged into what Spirit assured everyone was the Mystery Dungeon. Anyone who didn't believe him would watch him swear on Chindu's life, which made the chatot profusely stutter off please don't do that Spirit and then someone would egg them on to kiss and everyones' faces went redder than Chindu's beak. Even Chindu himself.

"I am not going anywhere near that asshole."

Munchie... well, he'd tried. "But... Ashley! It's our only way in! We can't get left behind!"

"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT BEING LEFT BEHIND FUCK OFF I HATE WATER."

"I.. I know! But it's all we can—"

"HELL NO I AM NOT TAKING YOUR SHIT EVEN IF YOU FORCE-FEED IT I REFUSE."

"PLEASE JUST GO! I REALLY LIKE YOU!"

"I DON'T FUCKING WANNA!"

Their saving grace came in the form of an annoyed elgyem who looked peeved enough to chuck the chimchar through the flowing waves himself. They eventually compromised to a point where he used super-cool psychic mind energy stuff Munchie didn't quite understand that could hold the crashing waves in place while the rest of his focus was spent on using his slim arms to toss the chimchar like a boulder through, the top of her long, orange-haired head with the bob narrowly missing that tip of the waterfall. "Only a small portion of me rooted for her," he stated in response. Munchie felt absolutely positive Drynt could use those same super-cool psychic mind energy stuff to pitch Ashley into the waves or keep her completely safe. It was his choice to warn her, and his alone, and if Munchie didn't stumble on him he felt pretty sure Drynt would not like that. The crashing waves spun angrily, a torrent of hissing water, but the elgyem casually sauntered through—still floating—and all Munchie could do was saunter on after him. He looked nowhere near as cool as that emerald-colored biped had, but that was okay. Drynt had an air to him that no one else could quite stick a finger to. And it was a cool air.

Not only did Munchie learn that Drynt was a saving grace, but he also didn't talk much and seemed like he didn't care, but when Ashley accidentally pitched herself into a puddle, Munchie hesitated idiotically and Drynt leaped over to assist. One of those guys, he observed, giving an awkward thanks to his eavesdropping skill. Other interesting stuff he learned when Drynt did talk were that nobody seemed to remember him. He and Munchie had a smooth conversation on being forgetful, and he gave himself happy points for that. "I don't think it's that anyone dislikes me, but that I'm just a little hard to remember. Elgyem isn't a species that most pokemon think of when a random one comes to mind." As well, he had a simple story to share. "I once had a family. I was the elgyem and they didn't know what that was. The family found me weird. I found them annoying. I left." And like Mystic, another pokemon that had purposely run away from home. Only he really didn't like the source of that running. "I came upon this place and knew I must belong there. And was I right..." The soft, slightly-emotional, slightly-stoic voice let up some. "I don't think I'll evolve ever. Nobody remembers me that well as it is, I'm pretty set here, and I don't know if I would like even more confusion."

Munchie really grew to like the fact that the other team members made an effort to talk to him. He liked learning about them, and Ashley was starting to wander off like she had something important to find and it was driving her to no end insane. Worrisome, but he'd tried and had no clue what he could do. Guilt only continued to pour into him. He had to apologize. He had to... something. Anything. He wished he could come up with something right on the fly.

When the team met up again in the peaks of a silvery, rocky basin of sorts, the Amp Plains leading up to Mount Bristle, its terrifyingly white, snowy peak sticking like a needle, Munchie absolutely lost the chimchar he was trying so hard to stick to and soon found himself scuttling off behind a much larger, warmer, fuzzier creature than himself, and they shared body heat, which Byrender of course didn't mind at all because he was Byrender and Byrender had no shame. Not that it was really bad, but it... was weird. Just weird. Oh, was Munchie thankful to hear the bibarel and his story. "See, when I was a young bidoof, my mom was old and losing a lot of things, most of all her life. Dad'd passed some time ago, and it was obvious she'd been aching to join him since. They loved each other a lot, and that love rubbed off on me. They're just good parents, all it takes. So anyway, my older brothers and I set out off to different places, and I ended up here. And I remember one time Spirit really... upset me, and I'd ran off with the tears in my eyes, and I'd found a small creek to myself. And I'd cried for my family. And... it took time, but eventually I came back, and you should've seen how much Spirit and Chindu had missed me. I was only the first member, and ohhh, seeing their faces... Ah... It took ages before we realized I'd evolved. Heh, good times."

The munchlax decided not to tell Byrender how jealous he was of that beautiful life. Yeah, he didn't say he was in love with anyone, but that life on its own sounded so sweet and soft and happy. Different than Munchie's. "And now that I'm here, I just want you and Ashley to feel the love our group has to offer too." Okay was he trying to make this poor soul burst into pathetic tears? It sure felt like it. Munchie hardly recalled what the heck he'd passed by through the boulders and basins and rocky outcroppings of Amp Plains, much less the snowy, rocky confines of Mount Bristle, which in the end were terrifying as it was but happier with some goofy, happy folk like Byrender with him. Munchie... seriously was growing attached to those pokemon. They welcomed him way too easy. They worked with him way too well. It was scary how nicely they fit.

Grumbling about how worried he was, Munchie stuttered down from the peaks of the snowy mountain with Jordan in tow, who seemed in the perfect mood to rant about how much she hated her parents. "They think they can go and just do these things. They think oh, I want a murderess assassin so we'll just make sure our girl becomes a gallade. Because obviously girls are supposed to be gallades—and no they're not supposed to be gallades, you idiots! Do you know what stress I went through to end up in this uncomfortable place? Do you idiots think I like this? Sure, I've grown accustomed to it, but it's not like I enjoy getting those glances. Geez, if anyone, I think I'd go with Byrender." More jealousy for him. Especially because this murderess assassin's life more than slightly made Munchie want to cry for the lovable bibarel. "It was painful, it was long, it was horrible, and I don't want to know what actually got me here in the end. So, just like any other sane entity, I'd ran away, and I met Byrender, and he welcomed me to our gay leaders. It was him, then me, then Mystic, then finally Drynt. We'd all run away from past lives to get ourselves where we are today, and there's honestly no other place I'd rather be." Though she wasn't the best at words—none of them really were, but maybe Chindu a little—Jordan's story had such a twist ending that sent Munchie to tears. He horrendously sobbed through the exploring of the Brine Cave with its water and network of drip, drip, drops that seemed to play a song.

By the end of his tears and overemotional actions for this group of pokemon, Ashley had randomly rounded a bend and stumbled into him, and whence everyone grouped back up again, Spirit whistled. "Woo! Looks like the tots are ready to pass out! Well... we haaaad taken a few extra days. Whatever. It's night. We'll go home. Won't be nocturnal."

Chindu whispered something that sounded a lot like, "Don't worry, you guys. We all felt the same as you at the start of our first exploration. Always the rounds." Other whistles from those other guys assured him of this, but seriously all Munchie wanted to do was go die and fall asleep some then somehow wake up later. He'd worry about that later. "We'll just make sure you get some rest now."

And that they did.

Munchie reaaaaaally liked being part of this group.

Me: hwaaah, so cuuuuteee...

Mystic: OOH, I LOVE CUUUTE! :D

Jordan: It was okay I guess.

Drynt: I enjoy our odd endeavors.

Byrender: Group hug?

Everyone: -shrugs- Group hug.

-MUCH HUGGING-

Mystic: LOOK WHO'S KISSING

Chindu: I DID NOT MYSTIC

Spirit: YEAH YOU DID

Chindu: SPIRIT

Spirit: GAY BIRD LOVELY

Chindu: STOP EVERYONE

Me: -passes out in a haze of cuteness-