Chapter Text
Tart stepped outside through the screen-door in the kitchen. A shiver went up her spine as her delicate paw pads made contact with the cold cement just outside, but she pressed on.
The minccino nervously looked around as she stepped off from the patio and out into the back yard. The yard was, in reality, a shared space of sorts. The grass stretched on in two directions for what seemed like forever, encased from the front and behind by different connected housing structures.
Tart made her way over to a tree and promptly took a seat. She made sure to place her cape beneath herself as a barrier between her fur and the grass.
She took a deep breath. In, then out. The misty cloud of carbon dioxide visibly dissipated into the cool and crisp air. It was uncharacteristically cold for that late in the spring, but she figured it'd do her well to savor what little cold was left before the summer months boiled her in the atmosphere alone.
Tart grew nauseous at the thought of another sweltering summer. Having two fire-types as best friends wasn't all sunshine. Or, rather, sometimes it was too much sunshine.
Eventually, her stalling had to cease. She begrudgingly reached into pocket and took out her flip phone. One by one, she dialed in the digits of her mother's phone number. Once this was concluded, she sat in wait.
...
... ...
... ... ...
"You are in the acquaintance of the Sauce estate. This is Hots speaking."
Upon hearing the cinccino's chipper scratchy voice, Tart had to swallow a lump in her throat.
"G-Greetings to you, mother!" Tart responded with all the enthusiasm she could muster.
"Oh." There was a long pause. "What do you want?"
Tart huffed irritatedly. Her tail lashed with displeasure.
"If you had not been made aware, mother dearest, I was nearly made deceased this night, not three hours ago." Tart shivered as she recalled the memory. It was almost like she could still feel the cold cylindrical shape pressed against her temple.
"Well, you're still here," came Hots' immediate annoyed reply. "Honestly, to imagine you'd see reason to waste my time with 'what if' scenarios. If anything, I should teach you a lesson for going and getting into legal trouble with those dirty low-class street vermin!" The cinccino on the other end grew increasingly furious with her tone. "The Guildmaster himself came to speak with me moments ago! Do you have any idea how stressful that was for me? You don't. You never think about the problems your actions will make for other people, Tart. You're just a spoiled brat who thinks she can do whatever she wants just because she grew up rich. You're lucky you have talent worth pursuing, or I'd-"
"You'd what?" Tart demanded, sharply cutting her mother off. "Oh, that's right. You'd do absolutely nothing. Because it isn't up to you; it's up to dad. The only reason he tolerates you at *all *I would imagine is because you likely give killer head."
"How DARE you interrupt me like some impudent child! Y-"
Tart did not hear the end of that tirade as she simply slammed her phone shut.
Onya Minor, Spring Town - Six Days Before the Capital Meeting
As the sun cracked over the horizon, the buildings of Spring Town were painted in cool blue hues.
Shallot, Salami, Tart, Ring, Bean, Rice, Salami's sister, and Toast all stood at the edge of town, overlooking a dirt road which led into the woods. The White Woods appeared a lot less scary in the light of day, though the way that the titanic stretch of wilderness completely surrounded the town on all sides - no way in our out without passing through - always did a lot to put Shallot, Tart, and Salami on edge. The three felt a bit stifled and isolated.
Rice and Bean - the two ninetales - were garbed in their crimson red scarves, pinned open which were their official Onya Minor Guild badges. The two assisted Toast in setting up the wooden caravan that would accommodate the three of them plus Ring for the trip.
Salami and his sister both talked with their parents. Tart stood off to the side with her arms crossed, not really acknowledging anyone outside of occasionally stealing a glance toward Shallot.
The fennekin in question embraced his mom in a tight hug.
"Oh, I'm gonna miss you so much, dear," Ring whined, nuzzling into Shallot's forehead. She gave the little messy tuft of fur there a quick kiss, before leaning down to place a few more on his fluffy white muzzle.
"Ack- mom! I'm a grown man!" Shallot laughed, playfully pushing her away.
The older fennekin smiled lightly.
"Oh, hush. You're twenty; that's practically a baby." She then turned to Tart, who was side-gazing toward Shallot. The minccino quickly turned to pretend she was just spinning around. "Hey, Tart! Make sure to take care of my son while I'm gone, y'hear young lady?"
"Yes, ma'am!" Tart saluted seriously.
"Land's sake! She's barely even older than me!" Shallot threw up his forelegs in exasperation.
"Maturity creates all of the distinction," Tart retorted, smirking exaggeratedly.
Shallot huffed, annoyed.
"Don't fool yourself," Ring dismissed, waving a paw. "You're a baby, too, Tartsy! Simply a less troublesome one." She pinched both Shallot and Tart's cheeks with adoration, eliciting a loud groan.
"Ugh! Go pinch Salami's!" Shallot complained.
"He has his own parents to give him affection. I'm already working double-time, here," Ring giggled, sitting in the grass.
"Ugh. Vex me not with such reminders," Tart huffed bitterly, subconsciously squeezing the phone in her bag.
"There there, Poptart..." Shallot mumbled, patting the minccino's back.
Just as Ring had stated, Rice and Bean both nuzzled their children's cheeks.
"Salami, Pancetta!" Bean addressed, running a paw through his blond hair. "Call if you need anything. You know the drill."
"Uh, yeah," Salami rolled his eyes.
"You only leave, like, every day," Pancetta replied, shrugging.
"But this is different!" Rice urged, frowning. She nervously puffed out an icy breath. "Salami, I know you'll be okay, but... Th-This is the first time we're leaving our little girl all on her own!"
The young vulpix in question rolled her eyes, perfectly in sync with her older brother. She simultaneously ran her paws through her snowy tails in a mirror of her father's action.
"I'll be okay, sheesh! I have Salami, don't I?" She pulled her brother into a sidelong hug. He seemed less than comfortable with the unprompted contact, but returned the embrace nonetheless.
"She's a big girl now. She can keep out of trouble. Won't have a repeat of the freezer incident." Salami added, resolute.
"Hey!" Pancetta complained.
Bean and rice both sighed in relief.
"Hah, guess you could say... Snow problem!" Bean snickered at his own joke, whilst his three other family members simultaneously rolled their eyes. An ancestral gesture, surely.
A moment later, Ring approached with a smile, nodding to everyone.
"We ready to go, y'all?" the fennekin asked.
"Ready when you are," Rice agreed, smiling in return.
Toast peaked his head out of the caravan with a nod.
"Everything's in order in here.
"This is it, then," Ring hopped up into the caravan, and turned to address the group. She was soon followed by Bean and Rice. Toast, on the other hand, simply walked to the front to begin pulling it along. "So long, everyone!" Ring waved.
"We'll be back in a couple days!" Bean added.
"See ya' later!" Rice chirped.
"Bye!" Shallot barked with a smile.
"See ya'," Salami and Pancetta both half-sighed, with more reserved yet still earnest grins.
Tart merely waved.
"So, uh," Salami started as the vehicle disappeared into the trees. "Anyone got plans for today?"
"I was merely going to work on my art," Tart admitted, running a paw over her arm timidly.
"And I was gonna watch her do that," Shallot added.
"I have school," Pancetta said, beginning to walk back into town. "See ya' in eight hours."
"Bye, Pan," Salami waved. He ran his forepaws through his dark orange hair before turning to address his friends. "Uh, guess I'll hang with you lot, if that's okay. Nothing better to do, I guess."
"Oh, gee, you sound ever so enthused to spend time with your dear friends," Tart sassed, placing her paws on her wide hips.
"Well, I just think art is kinda boring," Salami admitted. He turned to meet Shallot's inquisitive gaze. "You sure you don't got anything more fun to do, Shalls?"
The minccino huffed at this, turning to cross her arms.
"What could be more fun than watching Tart?" Shallot asked tilted his head. "Paint, I mean."
The vulpix shrugged.
"I dunno... I think 'what's less fun' would be a shorter list. But it's fine."
"Great!" Shallot grinned enthusiastically, meanwhile Tart looked less than pleased. "Let's go have breakfast first, though. I'm starvin'."
Hots grumbled to herself quietly as she and her husband busied themselves reorganizing the community library.
The dewott looked over to his wife with concern, placing a hand on her head.
"Are you still upset about this morning, dear?"
"Of course I'm upset!" the cinccino growled, crossing her arms. "That little brat thinks she can just throw her life into danger willy-nilly with no respect for how we'd feel if she got herself killed. I'm telling you, Steak, those two ruffians are an awful influence."
The dewott twiddled his fingers contemplatively.
"You know, you don't have to be so cold with Tart. You can just tell her that you were worrided witho-"
"I do what I must," Hots interrupted, shaking her head. "It's the only way to ensure she grows up to be a strong and ruthless leader. It is her destiny."
"Says who?" Steak inquired. "What if she's destined for something different?"
"Says me!" Hots huffed angrily. "I am from an entirely unsuccessful and unnoteworthy lineage. I will not let my only daughter repeat the failures I have worked so hard to correct! As well, I would never have gotten where I was if my father had not set me straight on the right path with ruthless efficiency! Ergo, I must do the same for my descendants."
The dewott just sighed, sitting down.
"She's not a business woman, Hots. She's just too much of an adventurous spirit, like her friends."
"I agree," Hots nodded, clasping her paws together. "I merely find it to be a problem that needs to be solved."
"Honey..."
"Don't you love me, Steak? Why can you never see things my way?" Hots sighed, her ears drooping.
With a small grimace, the dewott bowed his head, keeping quiet. With a frustrated huff, he stealthily swiped a small tablet from his pocket and popped it into his mouth.
Onya Major, Stemmal Plains - Six Days Before the Capital Meeting
Sherbet, Broccoli, and Nettle were departing with their own caravan, which Broccoli was pulling along.
The krokorok grunted and huffed as he strained to pull the vehicle along, though he kept his teeth gritted into his eternal almost predatory grin. His hulking feet stomped into the ground with each pace forward, uprooting countless blades of grass in the process.
Representative Ponyta peeked out from inside to peer about the bleached plains. Crunchy yellowing grass, overcast sky, and hills as far as the eye could see.
"Ugh. This is simply dreadful," Ponyta complained, dramatically putting the back of his hoof to his head. "At this rate, we shan't make it to Bulbopolos before nightfall..." He then adjusted his monocle, which briefly caught a glint from his fiery mane.
"Why don't YOU pull, then, Representative Crybaby?" Broccoli mocked. "Let me tell you, it AIN'T FUCKING EASY!" He nearly wheezed out that last word, straining forward against his harness.
"Broccoli, shut yo damn mouth," Sherbert reprimanded. The eevee shot her friend an annoyed glare, though fought to hide a tiny smirk.
"I meant no offense," Representative Ponyta backpedaled, raising his hooves defensively. "Even if you are painfully slow, old chap. We left Green Village an entire hour ago, yet I do not even see Scalliopolis upon the horizon."
"Big talk for the one getting a free ride," Nettle laughed. "Must be so hard for you to wait and do nothing while everyone else works their ass off for you."
"Ugh." Ponyta rolled his eyes. "Your squabbling is rather obnoxious, I say. Is it too much to ask that you do your jobs without complaint?"
"You were literally JUST fucking complaining a few seconds ago," Broccoli sneered.
"I was merely criticizing your sub-par performance."
"Oh, yeah, fancy-pants?" huffed the krokorok. "Well, when you outperform me, you can criticize my work all you like."
"Hm..." Ponyta considered the retort for a moment, tapping his chin. He briefly twirled his flaming mustache. "Deal!"
"What?" Broccoli turned back, visibly confused as the suited ponyta leapt from the caravan. Broccoli soon found himself pushed out of the harness, where Ponyta took his place.
"You three hop inside. I shall pull from here."
"Oh, yeah, this'll be rich," Nettle chuckled. The zorua and krokorok shared a high five, whilst Sherbert simply sighed in dissatisfaction.
Onya Minor, Spring Town - Six Days Before the Capital Meeting
Light streamed steadily into Shallot's kitchen through the screen door on the far side of the room. It illuminated the beat-up old table where Tart and Salami sat patiently.
"Quite the glorious weather this day, no?" the minccino offered, smiling at her friend.
Salami seemed to ponder this, glancing out the window. His eyes narrowed just a bit, but he smiled an equal bit.
"Um... I prefer it cloudier, but this is nice." The vulpix ran a paw through his maroon fur.
"Quite right! You are rather sensitive to the light, are you not? Perhaps you may wish to consider obtaining a prescription," Tart suggested.
Salami shrugged his shoulders dismissively.
"That's expensive. Money doesn't come so easy to some of us."
"Right, right," Tart sighed, slouching with a bit of guilt.
Salami looked toward the beige wall contemplatively. He side-eyed Tart a few times with a nervous flick of his tails.
"You... Uh... Okay, Poptart?"
"Dost oft you find yourself feeling lost, Salami?" inquired the minccino, staring thoughtfully into space.
"Lost..." Salami parrotted, rolling the word around on his tongue. "How do you mean?"
"Like..." Tart gestured her paw in a circle, increasingly quick and agitated as she struggled to find the words. "Like... A puppet? With no direction of your own; only strings pulled by others?"
The vulpix blinked, stunned.
"Uh... Can't say that I have, Tart. Why do you ask?"
"Well, I would never want you to feel that way," Tart clarified, smiling wide. "Thusly, I have vowed to make sure that you are not!"
"...What made you think I was?" Salami probed, raising a brow.
"BOO! SOUP'S ON, EVERYONE!" Shallot suddenly shouted, hopping over and slamming plates onto the table with a mischievous grin. Tart and Salami both jumped, startled.
"Shallot!" Tart barked, her face reddening. "How dare you startle us like some impudent child!"
The fennekin seemed to flush in embarrassment, bowing his head.
"Sorry, Poptart..."
The minccino's face softened.
"Oh, Shallot, I did not mean it!" She quickly brought the fennekin in for a close hug.
Salami simply shrugged, pulling his plate over to himself. Pancakes, hash browns, and fried eggs. Seemed like good eating.
Onya Minor, White Woods - Six Days Before the Capital Meeting
Toast pulled the caravan along steadily, whilst Rice and Ring were sitting within. Bean sat on top of the vehicle, keeping steady watch over the wilderness. The dirt path they took wound them up and around through every stretch of the woods, but did a good job keeping them clear of the brunt of the brush.
The grass was a bit sparse on the ground, with the limited light passing through the canopy, though numerous ferns and other such marginally hardier plants were littered about all the same.
"So, from Layer Port, it'll just be a quick 'n' easy boat ride to Allium, right?" Ring asked from within the vehicle, perking her large ears curiously.
"That's right," Rice answered with a smile. She crossed her large icy paws in thought. "Although..."
"Hm...?" The fennekin tilted her head, curious.
"It's been awfully quiet around here. Unusually so," the ninetales mused, tapping her chin.
"You think so?" Bean questioned, peeking his head down inside. "I've noticed an abnormal amount of fainted wilds along the path, thinking about it."
Despite keeping his attention firmly on trucking ahead, Toast joined in on the conversation.
"Somethin' don't feel quite right about this, I'll tell you what." The alakazam lightly rubbed under his nose. "Someone's followin' us, and I can't quite get a good read on 'em. It's like their mind is alien or somethin', almost like Primarina. Or..." Toast trailed off thoughtfully.
"Well, that ain't concerning," Ring quipped, dripping with sarcasm.
Toast suddenly jolted to a halt. Bean, Rice, and Ring all shouted in alarm as they stumbled forward, then all peaked out to see what was going on.
Right in front of Ring, a floragato was hanging upside down from a vine, with an odd sort of smile.
"I am assure! No harm is my intent!" The cat spoke confidently, smiling. He leaned forward a bit to get right in the Guildmaster's stoic face, and curiously poked their noses together. "I only have wonder! Wonder, to say, of if assistance can be provided to not Lemon, but rather use a fake name so they do not suspect me, or else the shrimp gets it?"
Toast's eyes narrowed.
"So it is you. You've got a lot of guts showin' your face here after last night, partner."
"Too literal!" Lemon cried in despair, suddenly thunking his fists against his own skull. "Gah! Lemon has stupid! No matter." The floragato was instantly smirking again. He dropped from his vine, right onto his head, then shot back upright, dusting himself off.
By this point, Bean and Rice had hopped out and surrounded Lemon on his other sides. They were tensed and ready to pounce, just as soon as their Guildmaster gave the word.
"So, did ya' have a plan for all this, or are you tryin' to get arrested?" Toast mused, crossing his arms. His eyes seemed to flash as he prepaired some sort of attack.
"Sparkled!" Lemon cheered, suddenly striking a salute.
Toast's eyes widened for a second, visibly shocked, and his building power fizzling out. Just as quickly, he regained a hold of his body. The Guildmaster stepped back.
"Bean, Rice, dispatch him."
"Yikes!" Lemon gasped as the two veteran explorers simultaneously shot fire and ice toward him from both sides. The flames hit first, igniting his fur, incapacitating him with an agonized shout. Second came the ice, freezing his limbs as to bind them together. Before they could be grabbed, however, another pair of pokémon swung in on another vine. Pear and Waffle scooped Lemon up in a clean arc, with the chespin looking quite annoyed whereas the eevee was rather worried. The three disappeared into the trees.
Bean and Rice soon got ready to give chase, until Toast held out one hand.
"Don't bother."
"What?" Bean grunted, visibly agitated. "Why not? Those were those thieves from last night! They were probably gonna attack us!"
"Guildmaster, you could've stopped them in seconds!" Rice complained. "Why'd you let them get away?!"
"We have more important business to be worrying about," Toast huffed gruffly, idly brushing the cloth of his cape over his explorer's badge. "No time to dilly-dally."
Onya Minor, Spring Town - Six Days Before the Capital Meeting
As the trio of pokémon walked through the grand entrance to Tart's house, they found themselves immediately within the vast living room. A certain cinccino on the couch shot them all a death glare, which was returned threefold.
"Who said you could allow those filthy cretins into my house?" Hots demanded, setting down her coffee.
A dewott poked his head over the balcony far above.
"Honey, be nice to our daughter and her friends," he admonished kindly.
"I know it is hard for you, being heartless and all, but do try," Tart added smugly, causing the cinccicno on the couch to fume. She then put on an exaggeratedly hurt expression.
"Oh, dear, why do you always take her side? She's so awful to her poor old mother, but you don't lift a finger to help... It's like you don't care..."
The dewott looked down guiltily, shaking his head.
"Sheesh, I was getting to it. Sweetie, please don't antagonize your mother," the dewott sighed.
Shallot and Salami followed Tart upstairs and onto the balcony overhanging the rest of the room. Her father held his arms out with a smile, but the minccino simply bumped past him with a huff. Dejected, the dewott shook his head and made his way downstairs. Salami and Shallot refrained from saying anything about this, despite really wanting to.
The trio of pokémon soon entered Tart's room. It open and spacious with a gaudy pink wallpaper. Compared to Tart's prim and properly groomed fur, her room was... Not.
Various canvases, easels, and sheets of paper all littered the room, featuring half-finished paintings and sketches all over each. Numerous notebooks were flipped open to different pages and scattered across the floor, featuring endless scribbles of partial ideas and the occasional graph or equation.
Buckets of paint, pairs of scissors, sheets of cardboard, rolls of tape in every possible state of depletion; almost anything one could think to make something with, Tart had that and more.
The minccino which owned the room let out a giddy sigh and quickly frolicked over to her large, ornate bed. She quickly yanked the blinds of the window down to block out the sunlight and instead activated a lamp next to her table.
As Tart grabbed a stray canvas and a paint brush, Shallot hopped up next to her to observe her work.
Salami, on the other hand, continued to look around at all of the half-finished artwork scattered across the rooms. Each had the full confidence of their creator that they'd be seen through, yet each laid unfinished. The room was practically a graveyard for ideas and dreams that would never see the light of day.
"Have you ever considered... I don't know, maybe finishing something?" Salami suggested, raising a brow.
Tart had already painted a verdant layer onto the canvas, of which she intended to overlay the visage of a sky. She turned to acknowledge Salami with a huff.
"Oh, noooo, I have never tried to finish something, obviously. Really, Salami, do you take me for an idiot?"
"No," Salami admitted, shrugging. "Maybe lazy, though. And unmotivated." He plucked up a sketchbook at random and dusted off one of the pages. Half full of some poem about sunflowers which abruptly ended after just three verses. "Seriously, you could've finished any one of these things. It's easy."
"They simply are not up to my standards," Tart countered, dismissively waving a paw. "I shall instead choose to focus my efforts elsewhere more productive."
"Oh, yeah? Where's that gotten you?" the vulpix quipped with a disbelieving stare. "Last I checked the only things you finish are the shit your mom makes you paint so she call sell at one of her auctions. Not that you even see a cent of that, of course. But it doesn't matter, does it? Money has never been a problem for you. If all of these wasted art supplies weren't evidence enough of that. No, I think you just don't have the motivation to finish stuff. Because you've been handed everything your whole life, so the moment anything feels like work you just give up."
With each word Salami spoke, the minccino seemed to shrink more and more down behind her canvas, hiding her expression from potential view. All Salami could see was the way her body subtly trembled.
"Dude," Shallot exclaimed, exasperated. "What's your problem?"
"She's wasting my time, that's what," Salami responded simply, a brow raised.
"No one forced you to be here," Tart spoke steadily, though she couldn't stop her voice from cracking at the end.
"I wanted to hang out with Shallot," Salami stated. "So, I am."
"Land's sake, Sally! Is it so much to ask that you don't antagonize your friend?" Shallot huffed, his fur appearing to spike up a bit.
Salami was silent for a moment. He then shook his head.
"Uh, right. Sorry, Tart. Your art, even unfinished, is still of technical quality."
"It's fine," Tart practically hissed.
It was at that moment that Hots rather firmly kicked open the door. The glaring cinccino walked in to see three faces of various grumpitude directed at her. Scowling, she looked toward her daughter.
"Don't you give me that look, young lady. Stop lazing about with your low-class suitors and go pick up our groceries."
"Make Hamilton do it," Tart dismissed, waving a paw. "You know, the thing you're paying him for? Doing the dirty work so we do not have to? It is not a difficult concept, mother dearest."
"Hamilton is busy preparing my bath," Hots hissed, stomping over quickly. Shallot and Salami both backed out of her way, whilst Tart only glared.
"I am not doing it," the minccino stated firmly.
Hots seemed to get a lot angrier, her paws clenching up.
Tart, upon seeing the spark of malice in her two friends' eyes as her mother tensed up, suddenly threw her paws over her head. She then put on the most pitiful expression of hurt she could muster.
"M-Mommy! No! P-Please don't hurt me!" she squeaked.
"H-Huh?" Hots stammered, taken aback.
This was enough to set Shallot off. He immediately leapt forward, snapping his jaws toward Hots' ear. The cinccino pulled her head back just in time, but she did not properly anticipate the incoming jab to her gut. With the wind knocked out of her, Hots fell to the floor, wheezing loudly.
Tart hid behind her paws, though underneath she smirked victoriously.
"Shallot, are you fucking stupid?!" Salami cried, his pupils shrinking. "You're gonna get arrested!"
"As if I care," Shallot huffed, turning away. "She's an evil bitch. She'll get no sympathy from me." To emphasize the point, the fennekin turned to spit on the cinccino's face with as much venom as he could muster.
Downed as she was, all Hots could do was groan in disgust as her attacker walked away.
Salami briefly shared eye-contact with Tart, who simply nodded. He then nodded in return before sprinting to follow after Shallot.
Hots hissed, glaring at Tart. "Violent ruffians!"
Onya Major, Scalliopolis - Six Days Before the Capital Meeting
Broccoli's eyes widened in disbelief as he saw the large buildings rapidly approaching.
"No fuckin' chance," he muttered. The krokorok looked down to see Representative Ponyta still galloping full-speed ahead, drawing the vehicle ever-nearer to their destination. The ponyta looked up to flash him a smirk.
"Ohoh! What, did you think these legs were for show, old boy?"
"Okay, okay," Broccoli crossed his arms, looking away with a grimace. "You're not completely useless."
Sherbert quickly scaled up Broccoli's side and perched atop his shoulder to get a better view of the approaching city. She gave a brief nuzzle of her head against the undersize of his snout as she looked.
Numerous concrete buildings up to four stories in height were littered around. A thick smog seemed to hang ever-present in the air, getting more and more thick and noxious as they approached.
To the eevee's sensitive nose, it smelled... Industrial. That was the only way she could describe it. Every gaseous waste product that a factory may produce seemed to occupy at least one of her olfactory receptors.
"Ugh... I hate this joint," Sherbert muttered, pulling her single lop ear over her muzzle.
"Why are we coming here of all places, anyway?" asked Broccoli, shrugging. He looked up to the sky, which already had one star visible within the dim twilight.
Nettle finally emerged as well, climbing on top of the caravan with the other two. The zorua answered his teammate's question.
"Well, Scalliopolis produces most of the energy for the islands. So, naturally, it has the finest amongst locomotive transportation infrastructure to accommodate our requirements to arrive swiftly within the capital city."
"Uh..." Broccoli scratched his head. "In non-nerd speak, please?"
"We are taking the train to Allium," Ponyta clarified.
"Ah, right, right," Broccoli nodded in understanding.
"We're gonna be stayin' with my folks here overnight, ya' dig?" Sherbert announced, casually fluffing out her white mane.
"Sounds quite all right to me, my dear!" Ponyta chipperly acknowledged with a nod.
The group walked quickly into the city. The pokémon they saw on the streets mostly kept to themselves. The concrete was cracked and worn down everywhere, and every couple buildings seemed to be boarded up or otherwise in poor shape.
Nettle let out a whistle as he looked around. The zorua smirked a little bit, nudging Sherbert.
"Man, you two used to live in this dump?"
The eevee nodded absent-mindedly.
"Hey, least it ain't as much of a dump as Green Village. The 'mons here won't pop a cap in ya' skull for lookin' at 'em funny, so that's a plus."
"Yeah, and there's actual places to work, here," Broccoli added with a smirk. "You've got the power plant, the mines..." He counted to two on his fingers. He then stopped to consider. "Well... That's about it, unless you go to school for something."
"School, huh..." Nettle tapped a paw on his chin. The zorua's tail flicked back and forth. "I've always wondered what that's like... Being actively taught, instead of just scrounging about whatever books you can."
"Well, it ain't all it's cracked up to be," Broccoli dismissively waved a hand. He then cracked his knuckles.
Curiously, Ponyta looked back, raising a brow.
"Ah, you've received an education, old boy?"
"Yeah." The krokorok smirked. "Sherbs and I." he side-hugged the eevee for dramatic effect, who seemed to not really react. "We used to live in Onya Minor, a good twelve years ago. Her folks got caught up in some gnarly addictions, though." He punched into his fist with a snarling grin. "Pow! Those Minor Guild prudes kicked in the door and tried to drag 'em off to jail! Sherb and her little bro were able to get their mom and flee across the border, though. This place sucks, but it beats prison."
"Quite the harrowing tale, indeed," Ponyta acknowledged, bowing his head. "Hence why these negotiations are so vital. If all goes well, we may indeed come to a happy middle ground where the overbearing nature of Minor's law enforcement is dealt with, and the opposite problem is solved over here!"
"Yo, don't go pretending you understand what we go through," Sherbert almost growled, her tail flicking agitation. The eevee hugged her green cape around herself. "You're just some rich asshole. You don't have to struggle like we do."
The ponyta shrugged his shoulders, grinning.
"Perhaps, perhaps not, young lass!" He stood a bit straighter, dusting off his suit with a hoof. "Regardless, I am in a position to help the less fortunate, and therefore I shall do so!"
"Placation, all of it," Nettle waved a paw. "You're never gonna actually help us. We'd be better off just blowing you up right here."
"Hah! You said it, dude!" Broccoli laughed, high-fiving the zorua. The pair then turned to smirk toward Sherbert, who joined in as well, placing her paw against theirs with a subdued smirk.
"Amusing," Ponyta muttered, rolling his eyes.
A distance away, another ponyta was peeking around a corner, this one of the psychic variety. She had a video camera rolling, trained on the group of travelers.
Onya Minor, Layer Port - Six Days Before the Capital Meeting
Toast sighed in relief as the cliff edge Layer Port was built off from appeared not too far in the distance. His group quickly emerged from the woods and made their way steadily into town. The sun was dropping low into the sky. Numerous citizens stopped to salute Toast, each quaking just a bit. All of them, except for one.
"Hey! Buddy!" Governor Leafeon squealed delightedly, bounding down the wood walkway. He leapt into a hug with the startled alakazam, as the populace around watched with secondhand embarrassment.
Rice and Bean hurriedly pried the leafeon off, looking mortified as they did so, whilst Ring simply giggled and walked up to him. She bowed politely.
"Hello, Governor!"
Leafeon's eyes lit up in more surprise. He put on a cool grin, adjusting his flower-patterned T-shirt.
"Yo, Ring Kruddenslu'j! Long time no see!" he laughed, extending a paw. The fennekin shook it with a smile.
Leafeon let out a pained grunt as Toast nudged him a bit firmly.
"Titles, Governor. Titles."
"Oh, right!" Leafeon laughed. "Sorry, 'Representative Fennekin,'" he acquiesced, performing air-quotes with an easygoing smile. "You folks ready to get this party started? I've got a cabin booked just for us on the boat! And I made a whole jug of that awesome blue punch."
"With all due respect, Governor," Rice sighed, pinching her muzzle. "This is a professional trip. Can you try to take things seriously?"
"Right, whatever you say, babe," Leafeon shrugged, pulling down his sunglasses. "Before anyone comments, these came with a tux, so it's definitely professional."
"...Why didn't you wear the tux, then?" Bean groaned, rolling his eyes.
"Cramps my style, dude," Leafeon clicked his tongue for emphasis.
"Well, I for one think it's mighty sweet that Leafeon here is bein' real with us," Ring commented, smiling wide.
"Thanks, babe," Leafeon flashed a grin. "Glad someone here isn't a stick in the mud."
Onya Minor, Spring Town - Six Days Before the Capital Meeting
Shallot sat within his small bedroom, lounged on the yoga mat which he used to sleep. He peered lazily out the window at the darkening sky, though he didn't exactly have a great view from his vantage point on the floor.
Also in his room was a wooden desk with an old computer, a few old toys from his childhood, and a few other various things in the closet. A fan sat on his desk, though it remained deactivated. It was not much, but he was content with it.
The fennekin stewed in the dim light and the hollow silence. He tossed and turned on his mat, but struggled to find a comfortable sleeping position. His mind was ready to sleep, but his body was restless.
Although his mind was clearer, he remained frustrated. His actions earlier, he reasoned, could've ended pretty badly. Hots likely would not press charges, since it would look bad on the town if the representative's son was found to be so violent, but he could not say for certain.
He didn't want to think about this at that moment. With a glare, he turned to gaze at the fan several feet away. He concentrated hard, attempting to flick the switch with his mind. As per usual, however, he could only muster enough force to shake it a little bit.
With a sigh, Shallot hopped up and walked over, flicking the device on manual. Soon enough, relieving white noise filled his ears, numbing out some of the whirlwind that was his mind.
As if to join in with the soothing symphony, a light showering of rain began to splatter against the window.
His moment of serene grace was abruptly cut short. A loud rapping at the front door broke him out of his trance, leading him to sigh heavily.
"Who could that be? It's almost curfew."
Shallot left his room, exiting directly into the living room. He made his way over and opened the thin front door to find a snow white vulpix awaiting him. Her blue eyes were as ever-calculating as her brother's.
"Pancetta? What're you doin' here?" Shallot hummed thoughtfully, stepping aside to let the young vulpix in.
Nodding politely, she pattered inside, shaking off a few bits of ice; rain droplets that had frozen to her fur from the beginning downpour.
"Salami said we should crash here for the night." She hopped onto the old couch, making herself comfy. A small puff of dust flew into her nose, resulting in a tiny sneeze. She removed her school bag and set it beside herself.
"Huh. A bit weird that he took you this way home from school, ain't it?" Shallot questioned, peeking around outside the door. "Where is he, anyway?"
"It's about happened earlier," Pancetta admitted, staring blankly. "I think he's worried about you. Doesn't want you to feel alone tonight. He's just picking up some drinks; he'll be here in a few minutes."
"Oh." Shallot flushed in embarrassment, crossing his paws. "I'm... Sorry you had to hear about that. I promise I won't hurt you or nothin'."
"Oh, no, I understand," the vulpix clarified, raising her paws. "Hots is a jerk. No one really likes her. You're kinda brave for doing that."
Shallot smiled a bit, nodding along.
"Relieved ya' see it that way, kid. Way I see it, evil pokémon deserve to suffer. If someone's ever bein' a prick, Pan, it's on your honor to give 'em the good one-two, y'hear? There's no room for toleratin' monsters."
The young vulpix's eyes lit up a bit, a sudden comprehension dawning on her features.
"Okay, Shallsy! That makes sense."
"And none, I reckon, are more monstrous than those Onya Major folk. They're rude, they're ungrateful, they think they can do whatever they want at the expense of others, and they hate us for bein' better than them. A bunch of savages, I'll tell you what."
"Huh. Really?" Pancetta quirked a brow. "Mom and dad always said they're fine pokémon. Just raised wrong."
"Well, they ain't." The fennekin huffed, his face scrunching up. "Fact, back when I was your age, I went to school with one of 'em. This real mean sandile, called Broccoli. He immigrated over. And, boy, was he a real cock! Bullied your brother and I an awful lot. Tart, too, and our old friend Sherbert."
"Huh? Who's Sherbert?" Pancetta stared blankly, scratching a paw against her chin. "And, what's a cock?"
Before Shallot could answer, more tapping came at the door, a lot more reserved in tempo than Pancetta's had been. Shallot shouted over.
"That you, Sals?"
"It's me," Salami replied through the door.
"Come in!"
The door swung open, revealing the maroon vulpix himself. He kicked the entrance shut behind him as he walked over with a plastic bag in his maw. He set it on the table, letting three pops roll out. One a neon yellowish green, one a dark brown, and the last one completely clear. In corresponding order, they were grabbed by Shallot, Salami, and Pancetta.
"So, uh..." Salami sat down between Shallot and Pancetta. His sister cuddled up to him a little bit, which he returned with a nuzzle. "What were you two talking about?"
"Broccoli, and Sherbert," Shallot answered, looking off into space.
"And cock," Pancetta added nonchalantly.
"Uh... What?" Salami blinked, incredulous.
"I was just usin' it as an insult," Shallot clarified, shaking his head.
"Can you not swear around my sister, please?" Salami urged.
"Yeah, sure." The fennekin grabbed the TV remote and quickly flicked it on. Some sort of reality TV program was on, with numerous pokémon competing in physical challenges. Pancetta, bored as she was, quickly popped open her clear sparkling beverage to sip as she observed the happenings.
"Are you okay, Shallot? After earlier?" Salami asked, turning to side-eye his friend.
"...I don't want to talk about it," the fennekin admitted.
"I'm always here for you, if you need it, bud," Salami admitted.
"...I appreciate it." Shallot smiled a little. He then took on his more serious expression. "Is Tart okay?"
"I'm not sure," Salami admitted, looking down glumly.
"I am quite fine," suddenly came the minccino's voice.
Startled, the three pokémon hopped up to look out the window. Tart was walking across the patio and over to the front door. She turned to wave at the window.
"Tart?" Shallot questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"It's quite uncouth to leave a guest standing in the rain, you know," the minccino answered, tapping her foot impatiently.
With a smile and a shake of his head, Shallot walked over and opened the front door.
"Really didn't expect to see ya' for a while."
A bit crestfallen, Tart twiddled her paws together.
"Father dearest has advised me to keep away from the house for the time being whilst tensions die."
"He kicked you out when his wife was the one who's being unreasonable?" Salami inquired, raising a brow.
"You should beat his ass," Pancetta offered, receiving surprised looks from all but Shallot.
"Language, Pan!" Salami hissed, shooting his sister a disapproving look. The younger vulpix only smiled innocently.
"He did not 'kick me out.' He passed onto me a well-rationed advisory in which I was in no way obligated to follow," Tart explained, gesturing calmly with her paws. "He would never for a second deny me anything if I asked for it."
"Must be nice having a father," Shallot mused. His voice carried more of a bitter note than he'd wished it to, but it was too late to correct that by the time he noticed.
"I... I am sorry, Shallot. I did not intend to gloat." Tart bowed quickly, keeping her head low and her paws clasped together.
"None of that, Poptart," Shallot sighed, patting her back. "I was overreactin'. You're fine."
Onya Major, Scalliopolis - Five Days Before the Capital Meeting
Sherbert, Broccoli, Nettle, and Ponyta had made it safely to the residence of Sherbert's family. They'd entered a rather rundown and seedy apartment complex and made their way to a particular unit on the second story.
The apartment itself featured a torn yellow wallpaper, rundown wooden flooring, and whatever functional furniture they could get their paws on. The only light came from a dim lamp on the coffee table, which flickered occasionally.
Nettle lounged on his back on the couch, Ponyta sat in a chair, Broccoli sat on the floor, and Sherbert was curled up within Broccoli's lap.
On the couch, a serene espeon laid across the lap of a gruff looking beartic, who stroked her back slowly and methodically.
"So..." Ponyta started, before clearing his throat. "Pancake, Gelato, I must thank you again a thousand times for your accommodations. However..."
"Hm...?" The espeon, pancake, opened her emerald eyes curiously. "What's up, Representative?"
"I couldn't help but notice the, um..." He circled his hoof as if searching for the words. "The rather 'dilapidated' state of your household. If I can offer any financial assistance..."
"Save your charity," the beartic grumbled, raising a large paw. "We make an honest living working for the Guild. That's all we need."
"Yea. 'Honest.' Maybe after lil bro stopped sending funds," Sherbert muttered, rolling her eyes.
Pancake flashed her daughter a warning look, the gem on her head briefly glowing.
"Honey... Hush."
"Yeah, whatever," Sherbert grumbled, rolling her eyes. As her lop ear fell over one of them, she coolly blew it aside.
Ponyta, however, simply chuckled a bit.
"Now, now, Pancake, there is no need for such hostilities," the ponyta reasoned. "I am well aware of the rather... Unsavory work that is necessary for life around here, at times."
"Oh, 'unsavory," huh?" Gelato growled, clenching his fist.
Pancake bristled a little.
"You dare come into our home, belittle us, and insult us? After we offer you sanctuary?"
"I truly meant no disrespect," Ponyta raised his hooves nervously. "I will drop the subject."
"First fucking smart idea you've had today, Representative!" Broccoli laughed.
Everyone suddenly tensed up as there was a knocking at the door. With a groan, Gelato gently lifted his wife out of his lap and set her on the couch.
"I'll get it. Stay here," he ordered, walking over. He opened the door to find several brutish looking pokémon standing there.
"Good evening, Gelato," the leader of the group - a fairly burly charmeleon - voiced his greeting. "You know the breaks."
"We already paid this month," Gelato reasoned, crossing his arms.
The charmeleon laughed, shaking his head.
"I think you misunderstand, good sir. You started working for someone else, therefor, your two-thirds payment reduction is gone."
"Fine. Shut off our power, then. We don't got the money to spare," Gelato reasoned.
The group of pokémon chuckled a bit. The charmeleon then kept talking.
"You misunderstand, Gelato. Your options are to pay for your power, or we show you a bad time. So, what's it gonna be?"
"Excuse me, good sirs," Ponyta pushed Gelato to the side, eliciting a surprised grunt. "I do believe you are treating my associate here quite unfairly, would you not agree?"
"Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it, snob?" the charmeleon challenged it, a hint of disgust in his voice.
"I must advise you, I am not one to be trifled with. Do you have any idea who I am?"
"Of course we do," the charmeleon growled. "We just don't give a shit."
"Strange," the ponyta commented, absent-mindedly twirling his flaming mustache. "If you truly knew, you'd also be aware that your boss and I are quite good chaps with each other, no?"
The group of pokémon blinked in surprise, stepping back as a large and intimidating honchkrow walked up from within the apartment.
"B-Boss?!" The charmeleon stammered.
"Yeah, that's right..." The large bird huffed. "I hear you fools are giving my buddies here a hard time. Is this correct?"
"U-Uh... W-We were just collecting p-payment, boss," another pokémon in the group - a bulbasaur - spoke up. "We d-didn't know they were tight with you! Honest!"
"This is not the sort of grievance which I am inclined to take lightly," the honchkrow mused, causing the group to shiver a bit. "But, I'm feelin' nice today, got it? Scamper on outta here, and don't let me hear anything of this again. Don't even mention these kind people's names to me. Capiche?"
"U-Uh, roger! Yeah! You got it, boss!" a gothita in the back stammered, saluting. The group quickly hurried away, as fast as their legs could take them.
Utterly baffled, Gelato turned his widened eyes to the honchkrow. Nettle simple winked and let the avian illusion drop, revealing his zorua form once again.
"How'd you know what the boss looked like?" the beartic questioned, scratching his head. "I thought you weren't from around here."
Broccoli sighed grumpily, crossing his arms.
"Okay, the Representative had two good ideas ideas..."
Ponyta simply smiled innocently when Gelato shot him a questioning look.