Questions. Questions. Questions.
A hand raises, Fox points at it, "What are your opinions on the current state of Corneria's suburbs?" One excited journalist would ask.
"Uh...we just got here. I think I'll need some time to formulate a better answer for that one, otherwise I'll just help create controversial headlines." Fox responded with a chuckle, "I'll get back to ya on that one."
Another hand raises, "What was the toughest fight during the Aparoid War?" A chubby hyena questions.
"Oof, that's a good one..." Fox rubbed at his temples, "...Man, the battle for Corneria, for sure."
"Corneria was a piece of cake to defend." Falco shrugged, arms crossed, feet kicked up on the table in front of him.
"No, it wasn't!" Fox's voice cracked at his buddy's blunt remark, earning a few laughs from the audience, "Corneria was a tough fight. So much that those things almost had me for a second. Then...well, you guys know who came to my rescue."
The room was silent for a moment. Some looked at each other, as if expecting somebody, just anybody, to say something regarding Star Wolf. It were no secret, but no one really wanted to touch upon it, as tempting as it could be.
Star Wolf had become a flaming topic within Corneria. Their disappearance soon after aiding Fox during the Aparoid's invasion of Corneria was on the headlines for months as the city was being rebuilt. From small forums on the web to discussion among army officials on TV, nobody could stop theorizing about what happened to them. Some suspected they were dead, others had different things to say. The answer would only come two years later...in a form nobody really saw coming. But, I am getting ahead of myself.
"I'm handing the microphone to Falco." Fox said as he passed the mic over to his feathered friend.
"Alright, alright, alright..." He grinned, finally getting his feet off the table and sitting up straight, "Shoot them questions, gentlemen!" Hands raised again. I dunno what exactly hit me at that moment, but something compelled me to raise mine too before I had even thought of something. Hive mentality, perhaps? As I kept my hand raised, a question surfaced in my mind. A simple one, one that I didn't put too much thought into. A simple, quick, harmless question out of innocent curiosity. And wouldn't you know it, Falco pointed his finger right over to me, "You right there, fella! Shoot!"
I nodded and smiled, Falco being all ears to me in front of me. I opened my maw to speak...and the words did not come out. All of the sudden, it just hit me, like the 7:00 AM bus running me over in front of a crowd of grumpy pedestrians. Falco Lombardi was looking at me. Falco was listening to me. The whole Star Fox team, in fact, had their eyes to me.
It was a delayed realization for sure, one that happened as a result of completely spacing out through most of the QnA as people asked the most mind-numbingly uninteresting questions. It struck me hard, that realization that my idols, my childhood icons, were looking right at me, about to listen to my voice for the first time. Why, I couldn't even put my finger on the sort of chemicals my brain immediately released into my bloodstream when it happened. Pants-shitting anxiety? Fur-raising excitement? Neurons fired in my brain like machine guns with stuck triggers. My eyes widened as a chill straight out of Fichina chilled me to the core. Holy mother of the stars.
My hands shook like two twin fawns lost in the rain looking for their mama. I looked to Falco awestruck, silent, "...Uh."
"...Uh?" He uttered back into the microphone. Someone behind me gave a slap on the back of the head that put my brain back to work.
"Oh, uh, y-yeah!" I stuttered, laughter echoed around me, "Er...h-how did...how did you get that scar? The one on your right eye?"
Falco opened his beak...no words came out. His eyes stared into mine, but then, wandered, rolled around in its sockets. He took his mic away from his beak as he exhaled. He seemed...lost. I turned my head and right away, I noticed Fox's glare at me. It looked dry, sour. It looked...spiteful. He turned his head to Falco, patted his shoulder, said something into his ear. I looked at Slippy, his fist curled and resting in front of his mouth, an awkward look in his face. Peppy had stopped scribbling, but had his pencil resting on his notepad. He sighed.
Woah...bad vibrations in here. Had I said something wrong? I did not mean to insult this man's appearance, quite the opposite actually, Falco was a fabulous looking avian and I'd never dare to demean somebody for a physical imperfection such as a scar that no doubt had some history behind it. I looked around myself and I'd see the other people in the audience with their heads turned to me - their eyes judging me, their whispers criticizing me...intensely awful vibrations in this place, like a wicked evil had just let itself in. Get out of here, Chase. Get out!
Aw, damn it, who am I kidding? I said something I shouldn't have and I hadn't realized it until after the last word left my lips. The worried look in my eyes expressed my guilt when I looked back to Falco. He coughed, looking down to the mic, "...I...take it you haven't been keeping up with the news?"
Then, it just struck me, like a boot to the face.
Krystal's murder at the hands of Wolf O'Donnell. The scuffle between Falco and Wolf not long afterwards had been the source of that scar. A crucial piece of Star Fox history, shelved deep in the mind of a nineteen year old who had chosen to forget it ever happened. The thing about choosing to forget is exactly this; it always leads to the worst embarrassments later down the line.
"...I...I forgot. I forgot about...n-not about the entirety of it, but..." I choked up, the awful feeling inside of my chest got stronger. Legs trembled, cold sweat went through my fur. Felt like I was going to puke, "...E-Excuse me, for one second."
I stood up. I took the walk of shame towards the nearest bathroom. I weren't careful about picking my words but at least I now could show them I was careful with knowing when to take my leave.
SLAM!
Taking shelter from my own screw-up in the unisex bathroom, I'd stumble towards the sink. I couldn't hear anything from outside. No voices, no boos, nothing. Not even from Star Fox.
Nice one, jackass. I mean, it's not entirely my fault, right? Someone, at some point, was gonna ask a question regarding that horrible time sooner or later. Not everyone keeps up with the news, right? Even when said news was on every damn Cornerian newspaper, TV program, web article...it was everywhere. As if the Prime Minister himself had been butchered and quartered.
Krystal was assassinated by Wolf not two years after Star Wolf disappeared from the public eye following the Aparoid invasion. The motive? Only Wolf knows. The murder supposedly had happened on a space outpost in Sector Y. A distress call got to Star Fox but by the time they had gotten there, all they could find was a blood-soaked lupine maniac wielding a plasma powered machete, along with the rest of Star Wolf. A shootout ensued, at one point Falco brawled the maniac himself, which earned him that beautiful scar on his right eye. The same exact scar that I now had so ignorantly questioned its origins of. Nobody likes a party pooper.
Oh, Krystal...to me, she were just another fantastic member of the team to look up to. Her integration into Star Fox was recent, but she was welcomed by the community with open arms. She had a charming personality in her public speeches, her accent was a joy to listen to. But that was all I knew of her. To Fox and the rest of the team? I couldn't even imagine how much more important she were to them all, especially to Fox. They were inseparable, or at least they seemed so. And then, Star Wolf went and did exactly that for him.
Those disgusting bastards spread parts of her body all across Lylat.
No. No, screw that. I turned the faucet on, let water hit the sink. I needed noise, just noise, anything to make me ground myself back in reality. I needed to forget, forget those things, put them back in their place, never let them out again. I'll wash my face, go out there, apologize, sit back down and everything will be fine. I could hear Fox's voice through the wall, muffled. I had no clue what he was saying, but his tone made me think that the conversation topic had already switched.
I splashed water over my face, refused to look at myself in the mirror as those cold droplets dripped from the fur on my chin. I took a deep breath, shut the water off and turned to the door, puffing my chest out like I was about to march in a military parade. I put my hand on the door handle...then freeze like chicken in the freezer. My limbs go solid and refuse to move, I began pulling off a fantastic impression of a statue. The mind wanted out but the body wanted to stay in.
I wasn't keeping track of time. I must've stayed in that bathroom for fifteen or so minutes in that pose, a pose that communicated a quite brilliant artistic display of a stupid nervous mess, too scared to move and extremely angry with himself for it. Ten years waiting for a chance to finally meet my heroes and this is the kind of shit I pull off, I thought. What a tremendous joke. I couldn't believe myself and my lack of thinking, even if thinking was all I had at that moment.
But, then, the door handle moved. I blinked, my body jolted, fight or flight kicked in. I sprinted directly into the nearest stall before that door was even pulled open. Whoever came in spoke up, "Hellooooooo?" A strange male voice called out,"Fox said you can come back, dude. They're not angry at you."
I held my breath.
"...Hello?" They asked again, knocking on a stall's door. My anxiety was now spiking through the roof. I was cornered.
Screw it, I thought. It's time to come out and just face the damn music. My kicks hit the floor and I stand up from that dirty toilet seat, putting a hand on the stall door and just swinging it right open. Right before me, I see the good samaritan that was sent to my rescue. An iguana, who was startled by my sudden, bold re-appearance.
"Can't a guy use the toilet in peace?" I questioned, but he saw right through my lie.
"I didn't hear you flush." He shook his head, then chuckled, "Come on, get out there. You're only making it worse for yourself by acting like this."
I gazed at the door, "...They ain't gonna lynch me?"
"What-Who?!" He responded with confusion, "What are you talking about, dude? No, you won't!"
The question was idiotic, but it was my attempt at trying to make one big joke out of the entire situation. I grabbed on the flaps of my hoodie and pulled on them, adjusting it over my shoulders, trying to display confidence when my exterior already only displayed insecurity, "Right." I cleared my throat, "I-I'm heading out." The shakyness of my voice betrayed me. The iguana laughed.
"Yeah, yeah, get out of here." He said, "Staying too long in these kind of bathrooms might make you catch something."
I went out the door, the sound of my footsteps alone made however many people had stuck around at this point turn their heads toward me once more. Yet again, I was staring down the audience and damn, were those shit-eating grins some of them had getting right to me.
"There he is," A booming voice came through the mic, that, of course, being Falco's, "Did ya get locked in there or somethin'?" He asked. I was in no position to respond, so the audience did the response for me - by laughing at his little wisecrack as I made my way back to my seat.
Ten years, Chase. And now you get to be the butt of one of Falco's jokes.
As I sat down, I felt the iguana pat me on the back as he made his way back to his seat behind me. Within me, I still felt that same awkwardness from before. But, the iguana was right, there was no sense in fighting it. So, even with the little giggles at my expense around me, I took a deep breath and just toughed it out. Then, I cracked a grin and I just laughed along with them.
Fox, then, spoke up, "So, to answer the guy's question, Falco got it in a pretty nasty fight. I think at this point, everyone in the team has a scar one way or another. Slippy's the most embarrassing one, ain't that right?" Now that right there was a nice way to change the topic. That was a relief. Slippy looked over to Fox with furrowed brows, making a sideways chopping move at his neck, telling Fox to cut it out. But Fox kept going on, "Because Slippy still has a pretty nasty bruise on his leg from falling down The Great Fox's stairs the other month and taking Peppy along with him!"
The frog palmed at his face while the audience just broke into a warm fit of laughter. Slowly, things would pick back up again. Everyone seemed to be moving on. I didn't dare raising my hand again, but at least the black clouds above the team seemed to be gone.
Just as I had hoped, everyone had forgotten that dumb question in less than an hour.
"One last question!" Fox cried out. The fact he managed to stay upbeat for so long was mesmerizing, "One last question before we have our departure, guys! It's gettin' pretty late!" The crowd reacted with a disappointed groan, "Don't worry about it, we still have autographs to give out! You ain't seen the last of us yet! Now, who'll be the lucky one?"
Hands raised again, but compared to when this thing started, much lesser. Everyone already had gotten their answers except for a handful few. Fox points his finger at a dingo.
"You! In the suit and glasses!" Fox announced, "Last question of the day! Hit me!"
The dingo cleared his throat, seemed to shuffle in his seat. The whole crowd had their attention to him. He stood up.
"It's not really that much of a question." He spoke. His tone was extravagantly formal, his voice had a deep baritone, "...Just wanted to say something, really."
"...Well, please, go ahead?" Fox requested, intrigue in his face.
The suited canine in the crowd smirked, "...Well, first of all, thank you for all of your collaboration to Corneria's integrity. You surely are all heroes. Second of all...the weather sure is holding up nicely, isn't it?"
Time seemed to freeze. I looked over to Fox. He...was petrified. Frozen in his seat, looking to the suited male with an expression that seemed to be a mix of surprise and horror. Falco seemed confused by the question, eyes narrowing and slightly tilting his head forward. Slippy was the same as Falco and Peppy legitimately gasped. The most emotion he had displayed in this entire QnA session.
Bad vibrations.
I looked back to the dingo and he displayed a terriying smile on his face. Without a word more, he began making his way to the exit. The whole crowd started asking each other confused questions, some calling over to the man in the suit. But with a confident stride, he just pushed the doors open and walked right out, letting the chill breeze from outside come right in.
I looked back to Fox and he was now intensely looking at Peppy, eyes bulged out at each other. He grabbed the microphone, nervously clearing his throat, "Er...folks, we're deeply sorry for the inconvenience, but...we're gonna have to cancel the autograph session."
The whole room broke into confused murmurs and questions. The team simply stood up from their chairs, Fox waving to the others for them to follow, as they made their way off the stage and away from the audience. The booing started. Insults and mockery thrown at them as they turned their backs to us.
"Leaving us in the dark again! What freaking heroes you bunch are!" One shouted not too far from where I were.
I figured I'd might as well use the racket to take my exit out of there. My curiosity was now talking louder than that sense of awkwardness I was feeling before. In fact, it had control of me. I had to find that dingo. I had to discover what was so unsettling about that question that it made those hardened mercs stand up and leave.
Luckily, I could see the same man in the suit making a PDA call next to his car, just as he were climbing into it. I jogged over to my bicycle, just as I heard the roar of his engine as he quickly fled the scene. I was onto him, pedalling like my life depended on it.
Time to redeem yourself, Chase.