Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long! Summer is the busiest season for me, as I like to visit with friends and family, but it's also the busiest season at work due to our annual deadlines. In addition to that, I've had some health issues arise and my computer was dying, being repaired, dying again, repaired again, and ultimately just died… rather unlucky summer. So this is the first time I've got my computer back, hopefully for good this time, now that I've got a different boot drive on it – just as old as the original, 'cause I'm cheap like that, but at least it seems to be in working order. I've been just itching to write some more Huscal so I'm excited to finally be doing just that! I hope you all enjoy it!

Review Responses: Wherein I address any questions/comments/concerns you lovely readers have graced me with.

NatGiratina – Thanks for taking the time to read the meta-data on my process! I may just be weird, but I enjoy watching a lot of the behind-the-scenes bonus features on DVDs and such, seeing how things were made; so I wanted to provide a level of that with my writing too. I'm also glad I persuaded you of Pascal's thoughts! That scene was the driving force behind me writing this fic. I felt that there was so much more to it than surface level and I wanted to dive into the minds of the characters as best I could. I just hope I interpreted them correctly, as their creators originally intended. My intent is not to make Hubert and Pascal my own, but to expand upon who those characters already are, filling in the gaps of their history, thoughts, and emotion with probable speculation.

A special shout-out to all the international readers out there! I recently discovered the viewer locale breakdown chart, and I was surprised and amazed to find out people have been reading this fic not just from the U.S., but also from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Chile, France, Finland, Germany, Hong Kong, Indonesia, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Malta, Mexico, New Zealand, the Philippines, Poland, Portugal, the Republic of Korea, the Russian Federation, Singapore, Sweden, Thailand, the U.K., and Venezuela! I had no idea that so many countries had so much love for Tales of Graces!

-H- & -P- Headings: Since this is the first chapter that will contain both of these headings, I wanted to make sure it was clear what they referred to. They indicate which main character (H: Hubert, P: Pascal) is the current narrator. I have sort of a weird writing style that's technically third person omniscient, but I tend to tailor it for a specific character who's got the dominant point of view for a scene. So anything that you're reading that's not in quotes and is under a -P- heading is Pascal's perceptions of the situation and other characters' actions. Italicized single quotes under the -P- heading are verbatim trains of thought in Pascal's head. So in effect, Pascal is the narrator of that section, either directly through verbatim thoughts or indirectly by describing the situation. There are occasionally exceptions to this, and they'll always be indicated explicitly. i.e. Malik thought to himself, 'Did I remember to lock up?'

Chapter 4 – Off to See the Captain*

-P-

- The Amarcian Enclave, Present Day -

Pascal was awoken by the familiar chirp of her favorite invention – okay, well, maybe not her FAVORITE favorite. There was also her shotstaff, Mecha-Sophie*, the automatic banana peeler, that thinga-mah-doo-hickey she made when she was four that she classified as her first successful invention… In any case, this was perhaps her current favorite, as it allowed her to keep in contact with her new, but alas, faraway buddies. At least, some of them, anyway. 'Practically only one of them… Malik's messages are typically infrequent and usually for Fourier'.

Normally, she was far groggier when she woke up, but the promise of a new message from Hubert seemed to give her a newfound energy – another mysterious symptom she couldn't explain. Stretching and yawning as she sat up, she reached for the device and read the heading. "Eh? It's from Malik? I don't hear from him too often, wonder what he wants?"

Repressing the feeling of disappointment that had surprisingly crept up when she realized the message wasn't from the usual suspect, she opened up the message and read aloud, "Fourier tells me you've been cooped up at the enclave too long. Why don't you join me on a training tour I'm taking the soldiers on? We'll be swinging by Strahta, so if you come, be sure to pack for warm weather. Be at the Fendel Inn by sundown tomorrow if you're coming so we can rendezvous."

Flopping back onto the bed again in exasperation, Pascal cried, "First she wants me to stay here; now she wants to get rid of me? Gah, people make no sense!" But then again… she could use a break; that much was true. She rolled onto her stomach to double check the details, considering the offer. 'They're going to Strahta… I could stop by and see Little Bro - I mean Hu. It would be nice to see some more of the gang. I haven't seen anyone in nearly a year!'

Her thoughts were interrupted when the communicator twittered once more, and for a split second, she tensed, thinking Malik might be rescinding the offer. "Huh, guess I didn't realize how eager I was to take a vacation!" she hummed, spirits high now that she'd resolved to travel once again. Her sister was obviously okay with it; if she didn't go with Malik, she'd go to Strahta herself! 'And Windor, of course, to see the others too... Maybe I could convince Hu to go with me.'

When she glanced at the device, she saw that this time the message was from Hubert. "Well speak of the devil!" She exclaimed with cheer, her spirits continuing to climb. "'Pascal, I heard there was an accident at your place. Are you alright? Regards, Hubert'. Aw, how sweet! Gosh, word travels fast. Guess Malik sent him a note or somethin'."

Pascal smiled to herself, running a thumb over the needless signature. Always a creature of habit. Every single message she'd received from him, starting with the first she'd gotten a couple months after the group had parted ways, had always begun and ended the same: 'Pascal… Regards, Hubert'. Malik never bothered, nor did she. It was pretty easy to tell whom the message had come from just by the manner in which each person spoke. Malik was always direct, Hubert was always formal, and she was, well, Pascal.

'Haha, you heard about that, huh? No big dealio, you know me! I'm ready for anything!' she punched into the communicator in reply to Hubert. Now to respond to Malik and pack a few essentials. She was going to Strahta!

Pascal stepped out into the cold, tugging her coat tighter against the strong winds. Not the best weather for a trip down the mountain. At least the fur coat was thick and heavy, providing good insulation. A few good miles in and a couple small fry monsters down and she'd soon be sweating.

Unfortunately, the 'small-fry' monsters seemed to be on vacation as well, for Pascal had hardly gone two quiet miles before she heard the all too familiar footfalls of something large… something most likely related to the coat she was wearing. The mountains near the Amarcian Enclave were notoriously guarded by some large, ferocious creatures – that's how they'd been able to hide under the radar from the rest of the world so well. It's just that, normally, they didn't hang out quite so close to the enclave… She was pretty confident in her abilities, especially with how much she'd learned on her travels with the all-star team last year, but maybe she was a little… out of practice, currently… Plus she had had support from six other people* last year. 'Maybe if I cover my head with the fur coat and mosey on all fours… the beast will think I'm family! It could be like a family reunion! Oh wait, they usually have good noses, he could probably smell that this pelt is dead… Oh no! What if he's smelling it now and thinking I'm an easy meal! Maybe I shouldn't have made a fur coat from the boar I saved Lil' Bro from…*' It must have been the adrenaline getting to her, for she felt her temperature starting to rise. Her pulse was also quickening and it felt like her heart was pounding in her ears. A rustle in the trees over the horizon reached her ears, and she instinctively reached for her shotstaff…

"Oh no! My shotstaff! Where is it!?" She yelped in alarm as her hand swiped air, forgetting the need for stealth. "….whoops…" She gasped as she realized her error and a loud growl resounded from the trees. She took a step back, willing her legs to run toward the enclave, but her brain seemed to have chosen the 'fright' response in the "Fight or Flight" choice. Wait, fright wasn't supposed to be one of the choices!

Her brain snapped back to reality as the tree line broke and a large, dark, and perhaps slightly grumpy –

GRRRRRROOOOOOAAAAARRRRRRRR*!

'Okay! Make that REALLY grumpy boar!'

"BWAAHHH!" She yelped, finally convincing her legs to start running.

-H-

- Mt. Zavhert, A little over a year ago –

"No! Don't turn your back on him, Little Bro!" Unfortunately, her warning came too late, and Hubert felt himself being propelled into the snow. 'Not sure what she was so worried about, that was nothing.' He thought, propping himself back up. "Pascal," he began, intending to assert his superior knowledge and control of the situation with something along the lines of, "Is that all you were worried about? Just watch as I put this creature out of its misery." He stopped short, however, when he saw that there was no creature where he had just stood and instead, Pascal was knocked down as well, looking a little battered. Did this mean… the collision he felt just then, had been her, knocking him out of the way? He had little time to process it as Malik called them all into formation. The beast suddenly looked far more formidable now, and given the speed it had just exhibited, this was going to be an intense battle.

It was difficult to fight when one was preoccupied with their own, battling thoughts. He had been so sure that Pascal and Malik were untrustworthy, but here they were, putting their lives on the line to protect him and his childhood friends. It didn't add up, unless… 'I made an error…' It wasn't something that happened often, and admitting it was something that happened even less frequently. Never in all his time in the military had he made such an off-base error. He'd have to try and repair the situation, somehow. After all, he was an Oswell; errors are not to be tolerated. In order to uphold the Oswell name, to save face with the military… Oh, who was he fooling? That might be the reason he'd give if ever asked, but he couldn't fool himself. He felt terrible for misjudging these kind-hearted people – for letting his biases affect his judgement. 'When did I become so Strahtan? So prejudiced? I've become the very thing I hate…' Steeling himself for an uncomfortable apology and inevitable angry backlash, Hubert poured himself into the battle so he could face them with honor.

The boar finally fell, slain, and the group stood, catching their breath, while Hubert faced away, too ashamed of his actions before the battle to turn and make his plead for forgiveness. He was dreading their responses, though he knew he deserved every bit of it. With luck, they wouldn't be any worse than his father, Mr. Oswell. On the edge of his consciousness, he heard her voice; she was saying she was fine, of all things… How could she be 'fine'? After what he'd done… It didn't make any sense. He had to ask her to explain.

"After all those things I said to you…" he breathed, finding his voice at last, albeit a little husky with nerves, "…why did you help me?" 'I deserved the opposite… for you to applaud at the justice that had been served when the boar plowed me over.'

"Wuh? One of our team was in danger, what did you think I'd do?" She asked, as if it were the simplest matter in the world. What had he done to deserve her loyalty? She wasn't his underling in the military, he hadn't done anything that would make her trust him nor be indebted to him. Were there really people in the world that could make a decision like that, unconditionally? All his life he'd been taught that life was a matter of give and take – or in his case, take and take. No one had ever given him anything without taking first. Just how badly had he misjudged her?

"Our team…" What did she mean by that? His head was beginning to spin, overwhelmed by his perceptions being flipped upside-down. This girl he thought he had pegged was now a perfect enigma, and he found himself oddly intrigued. Further study would have to wait, though, as he was finding it hard to think rationally after all this excitement. He chose to instead switch gears and properly apologize for his blunder, "You were hurt because of me. I'm sorry, Pascal." How long had it been since he'd said those words? Nay, since he meant them? He had many a time made political apologies since joining the military and needing to deal in political matters in Strahta. Not anywhere in his recent memory could he recall a sincere apology like the one he was making now.

"Aw, no worries, Little Bro!" …and then she just blew it off like it was nothing. Just who WAS this woman?!

"How can you smile after all that?" 'If she continues to baffle me with her answers, we'll never get anywhere with this conversation, and I need to apologize to the captain as well for my behavior.' "…And Captain Malik. You have a right to be angry with me as well."

Hubert found Malik's responses to be more up his alley, but no less surprising. They were firm and polite, everything Hubert would expect from a fellow military leader. But they were also wise and forgiving, indicating a stout and caring heart. Just what sort of people made up this 'team'? They were so different than the people he was used to, and he found it more than a little unnerving that he couldn't read them. There were outliers, falling outside the mold of ambitious self-absorbed fighters whom he'd trained with and led for so long. The girl was by far the most indiscernible of all, and something about her made him want to know her better even if it felt like an impossible task. He wasn't sure what it was, but he was determined to get to the bottom of it someday. The captain… suddenly he felt like he had a mentor, maybe even somewhat of a father figure, to look up to, to learn from… Malik seemed sturdy and wise; just the type of no-nonsense, direct person who never lost sight of a goal.

- Fendel Inn, Present Day –

"Bartender! Another!" a rugged blond fellow slurred, gloved hand slamming a shot glass onto the wooden bar.

"No can do, Malik. You're drunk. I'm cutting you off." the bartend replied calmly, swiping the empty glass and placing it in a nearby washbin.

Malik gave a hearty laugh before insisting, "Nah; I swear to drunk I'm not god!"

"Oh my, you're so funny!" a bubbly raven-haired dame chuckled, prompting Malik to tighten his one-armed hold on her waist.

Turning his attentions to her, the captain managed a response inbetween hiccups, "You – hic- know… I used to be in a -hic- a-an improv troupe*."

"Ooo really?" another giggling girl, this one brunette, asked. "What made you leave?"

"Why," he began with a flirtatious smirk, "all the pretty ladies here, of course!"

"Oh, stop it, you~" the brunette cooed. "A man like you; surely you've got a girlfriend!"

"No, I – "

"Liar!" The black-haired one cried, "All the girls say they've been seeing you hanging around an exotic looking woman recently… Has the most peculiar white and red hair…"

"The Amarcian? No way she can hold a candle to – hic – you, babe!"

"What about me!?" The brunette pouted, handing him a fresh cocktail she'd just ordered. "I even got you another drink~"

"Thanks, doll. The both of sweeter are far you!" he replied, eliciting more giggles from the two.

-P-

- Mt. Zavhert, a couple miles outside of the Amarcian Enclave –

Pascal ignored the stitch in her side indicating that her muscles were screaming for more oxygen and pressed on as fast as her legs could carry her, praying she reached the enclave before the boar caught up to her. 'Almost… there!' The enclave was ahead, just around the corner and a little further. 'Come on, Pascal, you totally got this!'

Hope granting her a little extra energy, she pushed her legs even harder until – "GAH!"

The fleeing Amarcian found herself face-planted into the snow, her foot caught on a tree root that had been buried beneath the snow. Behind her she heard the angry bellowing of the boar closing in.

'Is this it? Am I going to…. to die here? No…. there's still so much I want to do!' It must be true, what people said about seeing your life flash before your eyes before you kick the bucket, for she suddenly found herself remembering falling into almost the same spot a year before, when the rest of band was there, and they defeated another boar like this. The time she made her first official friend.

- The same location, a little over a year ago –

"I owe you a debt and it must be paid." Little Bro had insisted, tallying another mark in Pascal's book of "Weird Things About Little Bro". Not that she was one to talk. She was so weird, no one hung around her for long! It didn't really bother her or anything, and besides, she found technology and history far more interesting. That's why she had decided to go exploring on her own so often. She felt far more at home when she was away from home, discovering new things and meeting people who cared about the same things she did. Why, just a couple months ago she had come across a professor who was studying ancient Amarcian ruins, just like her! They had spent hours discussing their findings; it was a total blast! Unfortunately, those friendships didn't last long as each had to go their own separate way. So Pascal had really been enjoying this recent adventure, tagging with a bunch of people for a longer term. So far, everything had been going pretty great! But it had been irking her that their newest addition, Asbel's little brother, had such a mistrust of her. That was new. She'd been called 'weird' many a time before, but never untrustworthy. That had been the first tally in the book. She was somewhere in the thirties now.

"Huh. Well, that's kinda weird, but y'okay." Rattling off the first favor she could think of, she had asked him to carry back the boar. It was the prey of choice for the enclave Amarcians. Whenever a hunting party went out, they usually came back with smaller game, but when they could manage a Bladhorn Boar*, that was cause for a feast! In addition to food, they'd salvage materials for tools and even clothing. 'I've been needing a new winter coat. The mane makes a great insulator against this frigid cold, too!' Unfortunately, Little Bro didn't seem up to the task, so she made a mental note to let one of the hunting parties know as soon as they got to the enclave. They'd be able to salvage it.

"In that case…" She pondered for a moment, wondering what else she could request to balance the scales as Little Bro had required. 'Oh I know! This is the perfect opportunity to make my first friend! Fourier keeps complaining that I need one for some reason. And since we're all on this mission for a while, it could work!' Rushing forward and eagerly grabbing the shocked lieutenant's hand, she exclaimed, "You have to promise to be my friend!"

- The same location, present day –

'At least I can say I've had a good last year, surrounded by my first six friends….'

"Flowing Strike*!" a voice shouted, causing the boar to roar in pain.

"Fourier!" Pascal exclaimed, quite sure she'd never been happier to see anyone before in her whole life. She was standing over her younger sister, with the shotstaff Pascal had forgotten in hand.

"Hurry!" Fourier yelled, helping Pascal to her feet. "We must get back to the enclave before it recovers!"

Pascal didn't need to be told twice. The two of them high-tailed it to the entrance and slammed the doors behind them, panting heavily.

"Fwew! That was close! Nice going, sis! You totally showed him what's what!"

"Ugh, I can't BELIEVE you! Leaving without even taking your weapon!" Fourier shrieked, shoving the aforementioned weapon into Pascal's hands.

"Aw, no worries, Fourier. It all worked out hunky dory!"

Growling, Fourier turned her back and stormed off into the enclave, pausing only to inform her sister, "I'm going to get a hunting party to take care of that boar. You just sit tight until I'm back and can escort you to Fendel myself!"

Pascal chuckled to herself, amused at Fourier's indirect means of showing affection. She didn't quite catch it all, but it sounded like Fourier was muttering something along the lines of "Honestly, she'll be the death of me – can't wait – she'll be long gone and someone else's problem – wonder how long until Hubert – " as she marched off into the distance.

- Fendel Inn –

"We made it!" Pascal announced jubilantly, nearly knocking the door off its hinges in her enthusiasm and garnering the stunned stares of the lobby inhabitants. "Eh, Fourier? Where'd you go?"

Ducking back outside for a moment, Pascal found that her companion had fled around the corner. "Fourier?"

"Shhhh… after making a scene like that, I can't be associated with you and still save face. I'll join you later!" she explained before taking off down the street.

"Huh. And she says I'm weird." Pascal mused, clasping her hands behind her head as she watched Fourier retreat.

Re-entering the inn, Pascal booked a room for Fourier and herself, stashed her fur coat and shotstaff there*, then went in search of Malik. Figuring he'd be in the bar lounge sooner or later, she made her way there and settled on a bar stool when she ascertained that he was not currently present.

She waited patiently while the barkeep enthusiastically waited on a couple of dark-haired girls who appeared to be trying to flirt their way to discounted drinks. Once he finally finished with their orders, he approached Pascal with a friendly smile and asked, "What'll be, missy?"

"Hmmm… I'm actually kinda hungry; do you got any food?"

"Sure, whatcha got a cravin' for?"

"Bananas!"

"Er… we only serve desserts with bananans…"

"Y'okay! Sounds pretty sweet!" 'Pun intended. Hu would totally groan at that one!'

"May I recommend the Bananas Foster? It's a dessert made with bananas, sweet ice cream, and our house rum sauce, so it'll sooth all your cravings at once!"

"Sure! I'll take two of those!"

"Two? You expecting someone?" The bartender asked inquisitively with cocked brow, as though he didn't believe it was possible, or just didn't want it to be.

"Eh, maybe. If no one shows, I'll just eat it myself!" Pascal affirmed with a smile, secretly hoping for the latter.

"Very well. Two Bananas Foster, coming right up!" he exclaimed with a wink, withdrawing to the kitchen.

"…red and white hair!" Pascal's ears perked up as she heard this whispered from one of the two dark-haired girls the bartender had previously been flirting with. Suddenly feeling a little awkward, Pascal pretended to busy herself picking lint off her gloves. 'How long has it been since I washed this outfit? I really can't remember! At least I got Fourier to let us leave without washing it first – it would've taken forever to dry! As it is, I nearly froze to death after she insisted I bathe before we left the enclave and didn't even let me get properly dried off first…'

"…Malik's girlfriend, you think?" the whispers continued, causing the hairs on Pascal's neck to stand on end. They knew Malik? He had a girlfriend?

"Hey, are you really an Amarcian?" One suddenly asked in a loud voice, obviously addressing Pascal.

"Yuppers!" she responded, not really sure what she was about to get herself into.

"Hmm… so you're the one. What makes you so special, hm?" the other girl pressed, approaching Pascal's seat.

Recoiling instinctively, the bewildered engineer blundered, "Wha-?"

"It's the hair, Faina. Men like exotic things, you know."

"I dunno, Eva, she's not as pretty as we are."

"Er, I'm not sure I follow… Does this have something to do with Malik?" Pascal asked, trying to piece the mystery together.

"It has EVERYTHING to do with Malik!" Eva exclaimed with a huff, "I think it's only fair to warn you; we've got dibs on him now. Your boyfriend must have gotten bored with you because he's been hanging with us nearly all day."

"Wuuhh?" If anything, Pascal was even more confused now than before. 'Boyfriend? And why does Hubert's face suddenly come to mind? They're talking about Malik…'

"Pascal!" a gruff voice called from behind them, nearly making Pascal jump a mile high in surprise.

"Malik!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "It's like, completely awesome to see you!" Had it really been nearly a year since she'd seen him?

"Glad to see you too, Honey!" the captain teased, at which Eva and Faina scoffed, apparently deciding to give up and return to their seats.

Even more perplexed now that Malik had called her 'Honey', she suppressed the urge to question when he motioned for her to quietly follow him to a table, out of earshot from the two troublesome females.

Once they were seated, Malik gave her an apologetic look before explaining, "Sorry about that, I had tried to extract some information out of them earlier, but they turned out to be a dead end. Since then, I haven't been able to shake them off of me. I was hoping they'd have packed up and left while I was napping. Thanks for letting me claim you as my girlfriend to avoid them."

"Oh is that what that was all about? No worries, Cap! Pascal has got you covered!"

"Thanks…. But hey, do me a favor and don't tell Fourier… or Hubert… or rather, it's best to keep this between just the two of us."

"Eh? Why not Fourier or Hu?"

"Well, you know… I see Fourier pretty often these days, and if you can't figure out why telling Hubert would be a bad idea, I'm gonna have to have another man-to-man chat with him."

"Huh?"

"Malik! Pascal!" Fourier had just found them, and was on her way towards them, looking suddenly rather different to Pascal. 'I can't put my finger on it… she looks so… radiant all of a sudden. Did she freshen up in our room before joining us? That's one of her nice outfits, not what she wore on the way here… did she re-do her hair? No wait, I got it! She's usually frowning in disapproval, but she's actually SMILING right now!'

"Fourier… are you feeling okay?" Pascal blurted, causing a red tinge to spread across Fourier's cheeks.

"Wh-why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno… You're just acting weird, and you're turning all red and stuff." 'Wait… don't tell me… could she possibly have a thing for the captain?'

"R-ridiculous! I'm always like this!"

"Can I get you anything to eat or drink, Fourier?" Malik interjected, standing and pulling out a chair for their new guest.

"Oh, th-thank you, Malik." Fourier took the seat graciously and hastily grabbed a menu, burying her nose in it, perhaps hoping to conceal her reddening face.

Just then the bartender appeared, two dishes in tow. "Your Bananas Foster, ma'am. Oh! I see you have another guest! Would you like another, on the house, of course, for the inconvenient wait?"

"Y'okay! I never turn down free bananas!" Pascal replied cheerfully, taking the tray he offered and placing one in front of herself and the other inbetween Malik and Fourier.

"Right away, miss!" he replied with another wink before turning about face back to the kitchen.

Malik suppressed a laugh until the kitchen doors swung shut again. "I think he likes you, Pascal!"

"Huh? What makes you say that?"

Sighing, Malik's demeanor took a serious turn as he creased his brow and took both Pascal's hands in his, "Pascal… it seems to me that you're grossly naïve. I'd be happy to educate you in the ways of love."

"…Eh?" was all a befuddled Pascal could manage to say while her sister sat bolt upright, a look of sheer terror on her face.

Footnotes

Chapter Title: Off to See the Captain – A reference to the song in The Wizard of Oz where they sing, "We're off to see the wizard! The wonderful Wizard of Oz!"

Mecha-Sophie – The prize for side quest #66: Death of a Humanoid. While not an original invention of Pascal's, I figured it would be a favorite because of Pascal's love of Sophie and all things Mecha.

Support from Six Other People – 1: Asbel, 2: Cheria, 3: Hubert, 4: Malik, 5: Richard, 6: Sohpie, just in case people accuse me of counting wrong. I included Richard from L&L even though he's not one of the original playable characters in the main arc. I also counted the whole gang instead of the usual 4 characters restriction used in tales of battles. Why? I think that's purely a game mechanic and wouldn't make sense in a real life situation. "Oh, there's a big scary monster? Well, I think you four can handle it; us fifth and sixth wheels are gonna sit this one out and have a spot of tea; maybe play a round of cards. Have fun trying not to die without us!"

The Boar I Saved Lil Bro from / Bladhorn Boar – The beast that's the boss battle at the top of Mt. Zavhert before the gang first gets to visit the Amarcian Enclave. I know it's a bit of a stretch, but I wanted to give Pascal a token to remember the occasion of her and Hubert becoming friends. I figured if she wanted to salvage the boar for meat, it would make sense to salvage other things, just as plenty of monster materials are salvaged from fights as ingredients for the dualizer. Sure, boars don't usually make good candidates for fur coats, but the Bladhorn Boar had a healthy and colorful mane, and Pascal's a colorful, weird person… so there you have it.

GRRRRRROOOOOOAAAAARRRRRRRR – Something between a Growl and Roar. Why? Because when I imagine how the Bladhorn Boar would sound, that's what comes to mind. Anyone else? No? Just me? Okay…

[Malik] Used to be in an Improv Troupe – At the conclusion of side quest #60 Opening Night, around the time when Malik receives the Best Supporting Actor title, he admits that he used to be in an improvisation troupe. While obscure, I wanted to bring that into this story to show that Malik has a fun, silly side still, even after all he's gone through.

Flowing Strike – 'Ruten' in the original Japanese, is one of Pascal's assault style artes. Sure, Fourier isn't a playable character nor ever really depicted as a fighter (that I can remember, anyway, let me know if I'm recalling incorrectly), but where do you think Pascal learned to fight? I'm betting the shotstaff was a weapon designed collaboratively between Pascal and Fourier, and thus they developed fighting techniques together, probably even sparred from time to time. Edit: Thank you, AdamthePyromancer, for filling me in! So Fourier IS a fighting character in the game; a boss in the Zhonecage bonus dungeon. I actually had no clue that dungeon existed... heh... heh... But in my defense, I only played through the game to clear it... whatever I didn't finish during the main arc (with whatever side events I could complete en route), so I haven't really delved into all the extra after-game stuff. I did start a plus game the other day, but I'm only about halfway through the child arc. I realized that I needed to wait a bit more so I can re-enjoy the story. Unfortunately, writing this fic is keeping the story more fresh in my mind than usual since I have to keep referencing it, re-watching skits and scenes to make sure I've got my facts straight for this.

Stashed Her Fur Coat and Shotstaff – Pascal doesn't strike me as the type to pack and tote bags around while traveling. When we first meet her in Graces, she's travelling alone and as the story progressed, we learned that she'd been travelling for a long time. It's my belief that she's a low-maintenance kind of gal (goes hand in hand with infrequent bathing) that only takes what she absolutely needs. This is why, I believe, the girl's got so many freaking pockets. Her shorts are basically built-in, 360-degree (or 2pi radians, for all you math geeks out there who love the Mathematician-named Amarcians) fanny packs, and if that wasn't enough, she's got enough pouches up and down her suspenders to replace a professional fisherman's tackle box. Honestly, I think the gist of the contents are tools for archeology and experiments.

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