AUTHOR'S NOTES
This has been in the works for over a year now! That's right, homies; VU rewrite! This is, like, my eighth attempt at a chapter 1, but I think I've got it, this time!
Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Verge Uprising
Episode I: Unrest Building
Tensions are at an all-time high between two islands of the Onian Triad of islands. Onya Minor and Onya Major are in dispute over numerous law policies, both the long-standing and the newly proposed. The two islands are nearly evenly split, the majority of members on each aligning with one respective set of beliefs.
Events are nearing a boiling point, as Onya Major has proposed that they succeed from the Onian Triad and form a sovereign nation, with Onya Minor vehemently disagreeing and instead wishing for Onya Major to bend to their whims.
The third island of the triad, Onya Garlicia, has called high-ranking officials from the other two islands to the central capital city of Scalliopolis, in hopes of not letting their long-standing nation become irreparably fractured. The two regional governers themselves are to attend the negotiation in-person...
Onya Minor - One Week Before the Capital Meeting
A tall and sleek, yet kinda scruffy fennekin rested upon his musty blue couch. His eyes were narrowed and fixated upon the television. A beat-up looking turquoise cape laid over his back, drooping down to touch the floor.
As he watched the latest report on the political situation of the islands, his ears soon perked up, alerted to footsteps entering from the other room. He looked up to see another more aged fennekin walk in from the kitchen.
"Howdy, mom!" the younger fennekin greeted, putting on a grin. "Can ya' believe this shit?" He gestured to the TV with a scoff. "Succession? It's madness, I'll tell you what! I say we should march in there and put an end to their threats right quick." He punched his paws together.
The older fennekin sighed, smiling gently.
"Now, Shallot, dear. We're gonna be negotiatin' for a reason. It won't need to come to violence."
Shallot sighed, slumping back against the couch. His tail drooped lazily over the edge.
"I think the time for that has passed. They deserve to be taught a lesson."
Shallot's mother hopped onto the couch, resting a paw on her son's.
"Now, dear. We're all pokémon at the end of the day, doing what we believe is right. Maybe we don't always agree on that, but if we communicate, we can get along."
Shallot, disgruntled, shook his head. The fennekin glared back toward the TV.
"They're just a bunch of mud-squabbling criminals who think nothin' matters but them damned selves." He turned to glare toward his mother. "I know your our town's representative and all, so it's kinda your job to talk things out, but I really think it's a waste of time at this point. Thems kind of pokémon ain't gonna do the right thing unless you make 'em. You should do us proud and vote that they heed our demands."
The older fennekin shook her head disappointedly.
"My darling son... There's more to the world than black and white. It's painted in shades of gray. Most do what they do out of belief that they're doin' right. All they need to change is for us to show 'em a little kindness and understanding."
"Yeah, I'll do that all right," Shallot grumbled, crossing his forelegs. He pulled his cape around himself tightly. "I understand that they're fucked up, and I'll show them the kindness of personally ending their suffering."
Shallot's mother sighed.
"I know you've always aspired to be a hero, Shallot. And I admire that. You want to do good for the world. You must understand, however, that being a hero isn't about justice, or beating bad guys, or stomping out opposition. It's about your heart. Compassion." She rested a paw on Shallot's back, smiling warmly. "To be a warrior takes strength, but to love requires the greatest strength of all, and only through the greatest strength will you achieve the greatest change. Maybe you'll even learn in the process that you needed to change as well."
The younger fennekin narrowed his eyes.
"Yeah, whatever."
"No one's perfect, Shallot. And, that's okay. Through working together, we can become our best selves, over and over again. There are many perspectives in the world. I believe that the only fundamental evil in this world is to create pain for pain's sake."
"Well," Shallot huffed, hopping up from his seat, "Maybe you should heed your own advice. Become your 'best self' and learn when to quit chasing a dumb fever dream."
Without looking back, Shallot advanced across the creaky, decrepit floorboards of his house and exited through the creaking front door.
His mother grumbled disappointedly, and hopped up to begin packing her things for her trip to the capitol.
"I hope for all of our sakes that you're wrong about this..."
Shallot darted down the street, ducking, weaving, and leaping around various obstructions to his path. The fennekin's cape trailed elegantly behind him. Numerous citizens cast him annoyed glances, especially the various guild members patrolling the streets. He did not stop until the sidewalk brought him to a particularly long driveway. He turned sharply to make his way down and toward a large and luxurious house, glowing orange in the light of the setting sun.
Upon reaching the front patio, he raised his paw and rapped upon the tall, wooden door. After only a moment, it swung inward to reveal a particularly annoyed cinccino glaring up at him.
"Could you not have rung the doorbell, you uneducated cretin?" the cinccino reprimanded with a steely leer.
Shallot only gave a toothy smirk, shrugging.
"Not in a million years! Doorbells cramp my style, yo."
The cinccino's face screwed up in confusion. Her silent question was soon made audible by a third voice approaching from behind.
"What could that possibly even mean?"
Shallot grinned upon seeing a minccino approaching the door from inside, one with an expression lacking the hostility of their older counterpart.
"Howdy, there, Tart!" Shallot greeted.
The minccino curtsied in response.
"And, wondrous greetings to you, my dearest friend Shal- eek!!!" Without warning, Tart was cut off with a squeal as the fennekin tackled her onto the carpeted floor. They rolled around in a mess of limbs, Shallot growling and striking with his paws and jaws at every opportunity, whereas Tart continued to defend against the attacks whilst verbally protesting.
Eventually, the pair ended up outside, continuing to scuffle in the driveway. It only ended once Shallot pinned Tart tummy-down and playfully bit down on her ear.
"Ugh! Shallot!" The minccino whined, kicking him off. She looked down to her fur, once a beautiful silver, now coated with a layer of brown dust. "You have soiled my appearance! As usual..."
"Bah, who cares?" Shallot shrugged. "You're still cute!"
" I care," the older cinccino huffed, glaring at the pair. "Since you, little impoverished rat, decided to ruin my daughter's fur, you'd better at least make it up to her."
"Oh yeah?" Shallot smirked. "How'll I do that?"
Tart raised her paws defensively.
"Fret not, mother. I will simply have him bathe me!"
The cinccino rolled her eyes with a scoff. "Great... Let that... Ugh... Slob touch you, I suppose. Whatever."
With that, she turned to walk away. Shallot stuck his tongue out after her.
"So, how're ya' doin', Tartsy?" the fennekin inquired with a smirk. The two pokémon set off walking together, their paws pitter pattering along the dirt road.
The minccino gave a friendly smile in response, turning her head to look at her friend.
"I am faring quite all right! Your inquiry is greatly appreciated! How about yourself, my friend?"
"I'm goodie!"
As the pair walked, they quickly found themselves distant from the grand estate. They walked for blocks in a comfortable silence, neither seeing fit to break it just yet. Eventually, they walked into a park, where they sat on a bench together to watch various pokémon of all different ages walking, talking, and playing.
"So..." the minccino began, turning to point her big, curious, lemony eyes right in Shallot's direction. "Pray tell; for what purpose have you sought out a visit with yours truly? We had already made contact earlier this day, no?" Her head tilted ever so slightly.
Shallot's grin faltered a bit, and he looked the other way with shame.
"Oh, uh, you know... Just another fight with my mom."
Tart nodded understandingly, letting out a thoughtful hum. She crossed her arms.
"Was it once more about the Onya Major population?"
At the mention, Shallot's already crimson eyes seemed to somehow go redder with a haze of fury. He looked to the ground, self-consciously wrapping his cape around himself. He stared off into the darkening landscape, where all of the pokémon seemed to be starting to leave the park.
"Yeah. She still don't agree with my whole perspective on justice."
Tart sighed, leaning back against the bench. She stared up toward the faint stars which were only just beginning to shimmer to life. She looked back down soon after. Only two other pokémon remained in the park; a little buneary child and an equally young pichu, who hopped around and splashed happily in a rain puddle.
"I must say... While I am in agreement that the..." Tart paused and shuddered in disgust. " wretched barbarians over there are... Uh... Less than civilized, perhaps it is indeed within our best interest to negotiate, lest it lead to conflict."
"I just think it's a waste of time. What if they do something to the Onya Minor representatives over there? Who knows what sort of twisted schemes those varmints got cookin'. Maybe if someone who actually gets shit done were in charge, like Guildmaster Alakazam, they'd be able to get results, but no, we're stuck with useless ol' Governor Leafeon."
"Well, in any case, your parents will be quite safe, I'm sure! With Salami's parents accompanying them for the journey, protection is all but absolutely guaranteed! Two veteran guildsmons like them shall be unstoppable!"
Shallot and Tart's attention was drawn back to the buneary and pichu, as a zebstrika and growlithe both approached, wearing matching blue scarves.
"All right, you kids," the growlithe spoke sternly. "It's past curfew. You know the drill; no citizens outside between eight and two.
The buneary and pichu stared up in surprise.
"Huh...?" the buneary inquired. "It's not even dark..."
"All right, buddy," the growlithe spoke with a smirk, turning to his zebstrika companion. "We've got resisters."
Tart and Shallot both cringed, looking away as they heard only a crack of thunder and two cries of pain.
"Speaking of explorers, we should get inside before that's us..." Shallot whispered.
"Indubitably," Tart agreed. The two hurried off, only sparing once glance toward the two explorers dragging the crying pair of children out of the park.
The pair took notice with great relief and some apprehension that there was an uncharacteristic lack of explorers patrolling that part of town that night.
"Well," Tart started as she and Shallot hurried back down the sidewalk, "Since it is within less distance, and you had already stormed off earlier from your bloodline's residence, perhaps you could stay the night at our dear friend Salami's house? We could even call up a pie!"
Shallot stared incredulously, his mouth briefly hanging open.
"What do y'mean, 'call up a pie?' Never heard that one."
Tart shook her head with exasperation.
"Tsk, tsk, poor, poor uneducated, uncool Shallot. He lacks the knowledge of what is hip slang, these days. It simply means that I could order a pizza."
The fennekin seemed to flush with annoyance.
"No one fuckin' says that! Not a single pokémon!"
Tart blinked in surprise, putting a paw to her muzzle.
"Truly? I happen to have a cousin which uses the phrase quite frequently, I will have you know!"
"That's bullshit and you know it."
The pair ceased their running when they came up on a quaint house nestled between several others. They ascended up onto the wooden porch, by then barely illuminated in the light of the moon.
Shallot reached up to knock on the door, until Tart grabbed his paw, shaking her head disapprovingly. Instead, she reached over and pressed the door bell button, which let out a loud chime.
As the minccino smirked in triumph, Shallot psh'd dismissively, looking away with annoyance.
"You're cramping my style, yo."
Only a moment later, the door slowly opened, revealing a light blue ninetales with a red scarf smiling down at them.
"Shallot, Tart! Hi!" the ninetales greeted with a polite bow. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
Tart mimicked the gesture, while Shallot simply waved enthusiastically. It was the minccino who spoke up.
"Best of evenings to you, Mrs. Snakke! Shallot and I have found ourselves present outside beyond the point of curfew. We request shelter for the remainder of the night, if it is acceptable for you!"
The ninetales nodded with a smile, stepping aside to allow the two in.
"Why, of course! We'd be happy to have you!" To accentuate the point, she puffed out a little ring of cold, cloudy air in the vague shape of a heart.
"Thank ya' kindly!" Shallot cheered as he walked in.
"Much appreciated!" Tart politely curtsied.
On the couch, a more blond ninetales looked up, wearing a red scarf as well. A small snow-white vulpix slept soundly beside him. He smiled fondly, adjusting his glasses.
"Hey there, young ones. Salami is in his room, if you wish to see him!"
"Sounds like a plan!" Shallot agreed.
"We shall call up a pie, as well, so be on the lookout for that!"
The two ninetales glanced to each other with palpable confusion. They resigned to merely shrug.
A tall, dark red vulpix was splayed out relaxing on his modest bed, casually using his telekinesis to operate the desktop computer sitting on a desk a couple feet away. Simultaneously, he levitated a webcam which was aiming toward himself.
He abruptly jumped in surprise as his door was opened, dropping his equipment with a shout.
Shallot and Tart's matching grins turned confused as they saw the vulpix scrambling back onto his bed.
"Howdy, Salami!" Shallot greeted, resuming his smile. "What were ya' doing?"
"Uh... Nothing important," Salami shrugged, waving his paw dismissively.
As Tart and Shallot hopped onto his bed, the former of the pair took notice of his monitor. There appeared to be some sort of live chat feed on a live stream setup. She read the most recent message.
"PepperoniFennekin994: Show more of the back ones please."
Salami flicked his monitor off with a mental gesture.
"It's nothing. So, uh, what's up? Out past curfew again?"
"That is correct, my dear friend Salami," Tart confirmed with a nod.
"For such a justice stickler, you seem to, uh, break that particular rule a lot, Shalls," Salami deadpanned, quirking a brow as he looked toward his fennekin friend.
Shallot wrung his turquoise cape between his paws nervously.
"Hehe, I just lose track of time, is all."
"...Fair enough." Salami nodded. He flicked off his bedside lamp, leaving the room only illuminated by the light streaming in from the street lamps outside. "Have you guys eaten yet?"
Tart seemed to light up in glee.
"Negative! In fact, we were just about to call up-" her speech was muffled as a paw was shoved over her mouth.
"Call up a pizza place," Shallot finished, smirking as the minccino visibly fumed and flushed behind his paw.
Salami raised an eyebrow again, but maintained his straight face as the two began to physically altercate. After it ended with Tart pinning Shallot against the wall, the three reconvened and ordered their pizza.
"I wonder how the explorers feel havin' to be the ones to deliver pizzas after curfew," Shallot pondered. "You think they enjoy the easy job, or they're mad that they ain't doing something more important?"
"Uh, I'm sure they all feel different about it," Salami reasoned, shrugging.
"Speaking of something more important, I do believe there is something... Unusual occuring outside." The minccino warily pointed toward the window.
Confused, Shallot and Salami looked over as well. The three all approached, trying to figure out what was going on.
A wurmple seemed to be cornered in an alley across the street by an eevee, a chespin, and a sprigatito. Not much else could be determined other than that, but it was all Shallot needed to get excited.
"Woah, someone's getting mugged!" The fennekin squealed happily. "Lucky me! It's my chance to exact justice!"
"Uh, you don't know what's happening for sure," Salami pointed out. "And it's still past curfew."
Tart nodded, concern etched on her face.
"With all due respect, dearest Shallot, now is hardly a good time for your heroic delusions. You could come into harm!"
"No way I'm passing this opportunity up," Shallot declared with a grin. He tightened his cape and shoved open the window. "Come on, guys! Watch this!"
"Shallot, no!" Tart and Salami shouted in unison, but it was too late. The fennekin had already leapt down to the ground and began to dash across the street.