Pre-fic celebration: Shattered Illusion is now the 3rd longest story I've written for this site! What do you to say to that, cast?
Amber: We live in a world where any of us could die at any given second and, including the prologue, this is the 13th entry you've written. Should we be happy about our circumstances?
Axel: I think so! It does say 'celebration' up on top, doesn't it?
Amber: … Just… just read the disclaimer, Max.
Amaxing: Why do all our names start with A?
Disclaimer: The word does not start with A. This is a relief to us all.
Chapter 12: The Soft Sell
Shelligan
Squirt squi-squirtle Squirtle-squirt!
Roughly translated: Oy vey. What a night.
It certainly would have nice if the ever-resourceful and persuasive Medici had decided to let the rest of us in on his procuring of alternative lodgings but… I get the feeling if I had thought to tell us, he'd no longer be the ever resourceful and persuasive Medici we all know and live with.
Not that I begrudge anyone involved, mind you. A true entertainer learns to sleep under any circumstances: from the jarring and noisy rattling of a low-rate sleeper car to the quite-probably infested hostels and motels that dot country back roads. The key, really, is to be secure in the fact that, no matter what your happenstance may be, you are doing what you love: and that's all that matters.
That being said, it is still a bit difficult to retreat into your own personal shell when what's keeping you awake is someone you know. It's the fact that the person is part of said doing what you love that makes the Withdrawal just the slightest bit impossible. So in the end I didn't get quite as much sleep as I might have liked last night.
Which still isn't as big a deal as you might think. While the first quality of an entertainer is the ability to sleep anywhere, the second is being able to operate at full force without sleep. So when Axel, particularly energetically, declared that today was the day we earned our first Gym badge, I wasn't concerned in the least. Bring it on, I say! I'll give them a performance they shan't forget!
Though first I suppose, I'll have to be incredibly polite to them, as Axel's sent me off to fetch Medici from their house. I have to admit, I never quite expected to visit a Gym leader's house during our journey… not to mention knock on the door and ask if our friend was still asleep. Then again, perhaps I should have expected this, seeing as it's Axel.
I wound my way through Woodale's streets, stopping only briefly to purchase a cup of hand-pressed apple cider from a local street vendor. Of course, after drinking it, I was forced to buy an entire gallon… by the entertainer's code, naturally. Maintain an eye for quality and reward it when you find it… and hopefully your audience will do the same.
Eventually, I reached Vanna's place, a ground-floor apartment in a nice, but not particularly fancy complex. I knocked on the door, absentmindedly juggling a few stones as I waited, until a Gallade (the same from earlier) answered the door.
"Ms. Vanna is busy," it said with all the formality and dignity of a butler.
"I'm only here to pick up my friend," I said quickly. "The Meditite? Probably still asleep on your couch or whatnot?"
"You mean that insolent, disrespectful cur?"
"Probably. Sounds about right."
"Right this way," he said, motioning for me to enter. "I'll be happy to get rid of it. Do you know how much his very presence terrified Lady Gardevoir? With each passing wink that I saw him give her, I couldn't help but become enraged. a. And I'm not the type to often let my emotions get to me, but you have to understand…"
I stopped paying attention at this point, preferring to let my eyes wander around the place instead. It was nice enough… standard apartment furniture maintained quite well, as well as a few paintings by some local artists that were… quite good, actually. It's just… I don't know. From Vanna's captivating personality, I'd expected the place to feel a little less empty.
Vanna herself was in the kitchen, talking on the phone from the sound of it. Desperate to hear anything but the Gallade ramble on about Medici, I… well, I suppose you could say I eavesdropped a little. Not that most people watch what they say around Pokémon anyway.
"What?" I heard her say loudly. "What do you mean that… I helped stop it. Yes, he was my friend, but… I see. You honestly think it's for the best? I still don't feel comfortable with it, is all…"
And this is why you should never eavesdrop: it's hard not to feel guilty if you've heard something you shouldn't have.
At the end of the hall, the Gallade pushed open a door, revealing Medici spread out across the bottom of the bathtub. I smiled, seeing he was taking a few of the entertainer's principles to heart, and gently shook him awake. And, unlike my friend Inigo, when I say shook… I do mean shook.
"Wazza… wat… hey… Shelly…" he said groggily, rubbing his eyes. "What… what time is it?"
"Around noon," I said, checking the watch that I wasn't wearing.
"What the… oh come on, why'd you have to wake me up so early?"
"We're taking on our first gym leader today. Sort of a big deal."
"Wait, wait, wait…" the Gallade blurted out. "Are you saying that this lazy, incorrigible ragamuffin is going to have not only intruded and befouled Miss Vanna's house, but also her gym?"
"Wait, wait, wait…" Medici replied almost instantly. "Did you honestly just use the word 'ragamuffin'?" He laughed. "What's next? Are you going to don a bowler hat and grow a handlebar moustache?"
"Put on a cheap suit, carry a cane, and constantly fall over yourself?" I couldn't help but chime in.
"Turn yourself black, white, and grainy and start writing things down to match your lip flaps?"
"I think we're done here, Medici."
"Yeah, probably. It looks like his head's about to explode, doesn't it?"
"GET. OUT!" the Gallade yelled, prompting our speedy retreat from the premises.
As we rushed towards the door, it opened, and Medici, reacting faster than I probably ever could, threw up a barrier that the both of us smacked into. It was worth it, though, because we prevented colliding with the always-pretty Lady Gardevoir. Not that it prevented her from turning red, placing a hand over her mouth, and retreating to the nearest corner. Medici, if anything persistent, gave a grandiose bow in her direction before leaving, and I quickly followed behind.
As confident as this may have made him seem, we weren't walking more than five minutes before his cocky grin faded, and he began to slump.
"I just don't get it, Shelly," he said plaintively. "I mean I've tried almost everything on that girl, you know? Singing, strumming… hell, I even dropped most of my act and just straight up tried talking to her." He shrugged. "Nothing."
"I hate to bring this up, but you are from different egg groups, you know. There's a good likelihood that she just… um, you know… doesn't find you attractive?"
"If that's the case, then why do I find her attractive, eh? It's clearly not impossible."
"You're also quite a bit more… and don't be offended by this… human than the average Pokémon, Medici." I explained. "I mean, just for comparison, while I recognize that she is, in fact, a very pretty Gardevoir… I'm about as attracted to her as I would be a Charizard."
Medici cringed, an expression that made a nearby group of children giggle. "Did you honestly just make that comparison? Really Shelly? I'm… I'm quite disturbed right now, actually." He was silent for a moment. "And… for it's worth, I think you're wrong. Or, rather…" he paused again, looking for words. "I kind of suspect she's as… for lack of a better word… human as I am."
"Well alright then," I said, humoring him. "Let's suppose you do have a chance. The error of your ways is clearly in your approach."
"What's wrong with my approach?" He said defensively. "It's never failed me before."
"No, you're right, it hasn't," I agreed. "Your over the top, crooning, smart alec approach at winning people over is, quite often, successful. It's a technique we in show biz, as well as those in marketing, like to call the 'hard sell'. Once your foot's in the door at all… you're in. No questions asked."
We paused, watching a few orange and red leaves fall from the trees that lines the streets. It really was a beautiful town.
"Except…" Medici prompted.
"Except," I continued, waving at the apple cider peddler as we walked by, "that the hard sell, while effective, really only works at getting some people all of the time. Quite a large some, but still not every person in the world. That is the domain of the few with that very special talent known as…" I paused for dramatic event. "The soft sell."
"Ooh! I know that!" Medici said excitedly, levitating above the ground to better catch a breeze, "that's the best kind of crabs, too!"
"You're dead to me," I said flatly, continuing. "But regardless, let's use Axel as an example, shall we?"
"We usually do."
"Yes, but this time it's actually quite relevant… and recent," I explained. "You saw how he talked to the hospital's nurse, yes? He didn't immediately put himself out there saying 'HI! I'M AXEL AND I'M AWESOME! YOU SHOULD BE INTERESTED IN WHAT I HAVE TO SAY!' That would have, undoubtedly, led to all of us getting a much better night's rest.
Rather, he allowed himself to be introduced. Low-balled himself constantly, yet still brought up parts of his life that just so happened to be quite impressive. All while remaining in the background, going with the flow, speaking softly… you see where I'm going with this, yes?"
"No, actually," Medici said, scratching his head. "Unless you meant to make Axel sound like some kind of shadowy puppet master."
"No, no, not at all," I corrected quickly. "My point was that by avoiding throwing himself out all at once, he prevented running into a wall he couldn't surreptitiously circumvent. It's a stealthy, sophisticated approach, more than a brute-force entry, I suppose." I paused. "Come to think of it, that does make him sound quite criminal, doesn't it?"
"There's a good joke about stealing hearts in there somewhere."
"Which we are, of course, going to ignore, as we're far better than that."
"Naturally," Medici. "Alright then I think I get what you're saying… and I believe I have a plan." He frowned. "Not that it matters much, seeing as we'll be leaving shortly after today anyway, but… still. Good advice as per usual, Shelly."
"I only aim to please," I said with a short bow.
"And to get me to buy you lunch again," he accused, not even bothering to try and read my mind.
"It's the hallmark of a good performer to never have to pay for lunch," I reminded him, casually flipping and landing on a nearby fire hydrant. "Now then, there's a nice buffet that's next to the pond near the hotel. It's probably best we go there, seeing as we'll need to build up a reserve of energy before hitting the gym."
"Sounds good to me," he replied, cracking his knuckles. "And then how about afterwards we head to the gym and take out all the small fries before Axel even shows up?"
I smiled. "Sounds like a plan to me."
Author's Note:
Yes, this chapter was about a Squirtle giving a Meditite relationship advice. No, this does not make me strange.
No, really, it doesn't! There's a reason why so many Pokémon are capable of having human-like conversations. A plot-related reason at that. Really. And honestly, how entertaining would the story be if all Squirtle said was: I GOT SOME APPLE CIDER AND THEN I GOT MEDICI AND THEN WE WENT TO THE GYM AND WE DIDN'T TALK ON THE WAY BECAUSE I'M DUUUUUUUUMB. Not. Entertaining. At all.
But yeah, so the next chapter's going to be a three-in-one! Because first person-perspective Pokémon battles are pretty fun to write, I have to admit. Also, I'd like you to take notice, Amber. I didn't kill anyone off today, regardless of how strong the urge was. Have we learned to trust the author now?
Amber: Not even close.
What the… why the… why yooooou...
Viva la feminism?