Chapter 8
The L-shaped hallway on the right-hand side of the guild led the rabbit out of the guildmistress' office, and back into the bright and sunny dome that was the guild's assembly hall. Breathing fresh forest air again was nice and all, but an annoying soreness behind her neck told her to ignore it. She stopped in place, rubbing that specific spot that bothered her for days with her right hand to see what's the problem. No matter how much she massaged it, it refused to go away as it lingered within the muscle. “Man,” she groaned, “that's the last time I'll ever sleep in an Inn for a while.”
“Mamma!” Two separate cries caught her low hanging ears- and soon after- she found two little creatures latching themselves onto both of her ankles. Being gone for a week, seeing the smiling faces of her Buneary and Riolu again uplifted Lopunny's spirit. “We missed you so much!” they told her. Good thing her little ones anchored her to the ground- she felt light enough to float away with the gentlest of breezes.
“Hey, guys,” she told them back, softly smirking, “How ya been?” She picked them up from her legs, and perched them both on her shoulders. Feeling them play with curled, fluffy, wool-like fur lining her ears was something that always brought a smile to her face. “I missed you both while I was gone, y'know that? Florges told me you guys became explorers- that's awesome!”
“Yeah, we did,” Oran told her in an eager tone. “Today, we fought a Graveler-!” he threw his arms out wide, as if holding a ball bigger than he, “he was so big, and mean! But me and Pecha came up with a plan to beat him- and we did-!”
“Actually, we teleported before the fight could be finished,” Pecha informed her.
Mamma Lopunny gave them a bright smile, and said, “sounds like you guys had quite the day.”
“What did you get to do, mamma?” Oran asked, with eyes shimmering and ears ready to listen.
“I'll tell you both, later-” catching something on the edge of her left eye, she spotted a wounded Scyther. Several cuts and deep purplish bruises were painted all across his body like a game of connect-the-dots, and his steps carried a heavy limp, as if he's more dragging his feet than walking. Even the blades he cares for constantly were nicked and cracked, and in desperate need of a resharpening. “Right now, I think I'm about as exhausted as he is.”
The mantis turned his head to the left, the sensors on his head catching someone saying his name. But seeing the Rabbit Pokémon again brought an even harsher tremble into his weak body; he needed to work on sneaking past her, better. He gave her a weak smile, “O-oh...h-hi, Lopunny. I guess you're back, huh?”
“Yeah,” she told him, “I guess I am back. What happened to you? You like like some Luxray's chew toy.”
He shrugged his stiff shoulders as best he could, trying to blow it off. “W-well, y'know, got attacked by a Graveler,” he said, while letting out a nervous chuckle. “He just sorta got me when I wasn't looking.”
Lopunny's grin grew wide, wanting to make him fell better with a joke, “I guess you could say- he rocked your world.”
In an instant, the mantis' thinly held together smile dissolved like a solvent underneath his heavy flow of tears. “Puns make the pain worse!” he cried out, limping away from the reunited family as he hunted down the infirmary. Today just wasn't his day.
She watched the Bug-type leave trails of tears, looking on with a face deciding whether or not it wanted to be regretful for telling the joke, or just indifferent. “I guess some people don't have a taste for puns,” she said to herself underneath her voice. But she didn't let that affect her for too long, as she said to her children cheerily, “You both should tell me more about your exploring back in my room-!”
Mom's room- the same as it's always been. Despite each room in the guild looking the same as the last, her room had a more personal touch: where everyone slept on a pile of bedding, she had a makeshift bed of cloth from discarded cloaks she wore in the past, most of which became too torn to wear, but she refused to get rid of them. The “guild-issued” straw was useful as its filler.
Sitting cross-legged on the lengthy sac, her hip-length ears stayed open to the stories her children told her during her absence. The Quagsire; the giant Ariados; even the Graveler from earlier, they've told their mother about- most of the enthusiasm coming from Oran- Pecha filled in the blanks he excitedly forgot to address. “Huh,” she said, “That sounds pretty neat.” Placing her right hand on top of her daughter's head, petting her gently, she giggled, “I especially liked the one with that Quagsire- you're quite the charmer, Pecha! Maybe you'll grow up to be just like me!”
A luminescent blush brushed underneath her eyes as she shrugged her mother's hand off from her skull, looking away. “Whatever,” she mumbled.
“What did you do while you were gone, mama?” Oran asked.
The mother laid herself on her side, her head perched on top of her left paw. She grinned, and asked, “You really wanna know?”
“Of course,” he told her back, with no control over his wagging tail. “I wanna hear the cool things you did!”
What happened to her plan to sleep after getting back to the guild? For now, she put it on hold, wanting to see her son's reaction to her story, first. She gave an assuring smirk, and said, “All right, I'll tell ya.”
She began her story: a little settlement off the edge of the Verde Forest, known as Naranja Town. After three days of cruising through the forest, she stepped foot into the community of orange huts. Lucky for her, the one place she came to visit was the one who broke the town's pattern: On The House Gummi Saloon. She took a good look at its rustic design, its brown, weathered wood refusing to conform to its surrounding town's single color. Their drinks better be good for the trouble of coming.
Swiveling the dual doors wide open, everyone's eyes glued to the Lopunny in a fluttering tan cloak. All of the rustic bar's walls were covered in thick streams of string, snuffing out the bar's sense of antiquity, or so it appeared to her. Four other Pokémon were present: a gang of three Beedrill, and the bartender, a Wigglytuff. Her glimmering silver badge froze everyone in silence while the wooden floors creaked under each of her steps, until she parked herself on one of the bar stools near the counter.
“W-welcome to On The House Gummi Saloon-!” the Wigglytuff welcomed her with a surprised smile, “it's on the house!”
Lopunny knew her smile wasn't genuine: her plump, pink marshmallow body trembled of exhaustion, after days of nonstop work; and her eyes, those round, crystal blue orbs reflected the pain her mouth couldn't speak of. She knew- on the inside- she's crying for help. “Do you have any red gummi juice?” Lopunny asked. “I traveled a long way to get here, and I'm feelin' parched.”
Wigglytuff tried spitting it out, “U-uhm, well, I-I don't know if I have any red ones left. But I can certainly check if I have any others left- just sit tight!” Running on the last bit of energy she had, she scavenged her emptied drawers and shelves, only coming up with a handful of light green gummis. “I-I only have green gummis left, ma'am,” she told her, “is that all right with you?”
Lopunny slumped into her left hand, “I suppose,” she told her. “It's a bummer you don't have any reds left- those are my favorite.”
As the sounds of a blender grinding the beans into juice whirred in the air, Team Bee Sting kept their eyes on the rabbit, analyzing her. If she had been any other Pokémon, they would have attacked her on sight- but she scared them. They felt it in her aura: her bloodlust, her taste for conquest, it almost came off as demonic to them. Whomever sent her didn't send any regular guild member after them- they sent a monster.
“Y.J., what should we do?” the male Beedrill asked his leader underneath a whisper. “She might be out of our league.”
The Beedrill took awhile to respond, her body shook while being absorbed by the mere shock of the rabbit's potential strength. Just by staring at her she felt powerless- like she was a Weedle, again, but with wings. “N-nonsense,” she told him while gaining some composure, her wispy voice shaking. “O-o-our instincts can pull our wings, sometimes. Y-yeah, that's it, it's all in our heads. Sh-she's just a Lopunny- how bad could she really be? We can take her.”
“W-well, what should we do about her, then?” the other male asked. “She's in our turf.”
“The same thing we always do to people who step into our turf,” Yellow Jacket told him, regaining her confidence, “make her regret it!”
“Here ya go, ma'am.” The Wigglytuff placed a cup of light green juice in front of the Rabbit Pokémon. “Please, enjoy.”
Her nose was about a foot above the drink, and yet she could catch a slight scent of green apple wafting from the cup. She already felt her taste buds pucker in anticipation to the sourness of the juice before the cup was in her hand- sour isn't really her taste. “Bottom's up,” she said to herself.
Before the ceramic touched her lips, a blunt, “Hey!”, called out to her. She turned to the right, just to see the three Bug-types just wallowing in their own anxiety in her presence.
“You guys must be Team Bee Sting,” she told them. Her face looked away, uninterested, “I'll deal with you guys, later; right now, I'm thirsty-” but a sudden sting struck her in her hand, sending her straight back up to her feet while she dropped her cup. Smashing onto the hard wood floor, her drink was reduced to just bits of clay fragments sitting in a puddle. She plucked the thin purple needle from her left palm, and shot the bees a cold glance. “You owe me a drink.”
“You must be pretty stupid to come here!” shouted Yellow Jacket. “We, Team Bee Sting, were in the middle of preparing this bar to become our nest- and I'm going to be queen of it! After it's completed, this place'll be swarming with our little Weedle-”
“Classy,” Lopunny remarked. “Your standards seem low enough to make it work.”
“Sh-shut up!” the leader shouted. This Lopunny knew how to get to her. Her very blood boiled, urging her for the first strike for it to be quelled. Yellow Jacket obliged, flying straight for the rabbit, “If you're not gonna leave, I'll make you by force!”
Within just a second, the Beedrill lunged at Lopunny with a thousand strikes of its lances, none of which landed a successful hit on her. To the Beedrill and Wigglytuff watching, Lopunny was just standing still in one spot- but she's been dodging each attack, with little effort. As much as she pushed herself to land a hit, her speed simmered down, her arms soon dropping limp from exhaustion, unable to lift the very weight of her lances. Still not a single scratch on her opponent- even failing to hit her cloak. “H-how,” she huffed under heavy breath, “how were you able to keep up? My Fury Attack is the fastest around- how were you able to dodge it all?!”
“You call that 'fast'?” She mocked. “I've seen a Slakoth move faster than that. All I did, really, was move out of the way. What's wrong? You look exhausted- take a load off-!” Lopunny drove the blunt end of her right knee into her abdomen, sending the Beedrill flying past the spectators. All that everyone's eyes could catch of the incident was most of the wall behind Team Bee sting having a crater blown through it, and outside laid Yellow Jacket, lying unconscious among a pile of brick and tangled in string.
“Yellow Jacket!” her teammates called out, peeking their heads out of the hole the Lopunny made, “Are you okay?!” Her twitching, silent body flapped her wings in response. For a second there, she might have been squashed for good!
“Y'know, all I was gonna do was kick you out,” Lopunny told the remaining two Beedrill, grabbing their attention. “But now, guess I gotta kick your little stingers in. That'll teach ya for killin' my drink.”
The remaining Beedrill looked at each other, nodding as if they knew how to take care of her: a synchronized attack would leave her helpless. “Prepare yourself!” They shouted, voices melding as one. Impatient to dig their lances into the rabbit for their fallen teammate, their wings produced a symphony of buzzing while flying towards her, mirroring each others' swift speed. If they act as one, they'll win as one.
The Beedrill on the right lunged with his right lance, and the Beedrill on the left with his left, both aiming for her chest. But they stopped before they even touched flesh, grasped by both of the Normal-type's paws. Time for plan B: with both of her hands occupied, she can't dodge their attacks- time to strike a blow with their free lances!
Witnessing their remaining arm stingers reeling back for another strike, they deserved no more than a bored smirk from her- predictable. Moving her hands away from each other knocked them out of their prepared pose, which allowed her to slam the two Bug-types into each other with disorienting force, dropping them by her fluffy feet. Muscles twitching, their soft grunts in pain told her they were still alive, albeit a bit shaken from the impact.
Team Bee Sting was everything Lopunny expected from C-ranked outlaws- boring. They fought more like E-ranked outlaws. With tender care she placed the males' unconscious bodies underneath a table near the entrance, sitting them up by its single beam. Before she hunted for the leader's, she turned to the near ecstatic Wigglytuff, and asked, “Happen to have any rope or somethin' on ya?”
It took her a minute or two, but she managed to collect the full set- the three Beedrill- tied snugly together underneath a table by a thick rope. They won't be going anywhere when Bisharp comes to pick them up- except jail. And for her, a sac of Poké that fit in her palm awaited her on the serving counter. “Here you go, ma'am,” said the bartender, her smile now growing more genuine with Bee Sting out of the picture. “Thank you for your help; they've been running me rampant for days.”
“Yeah, sorry 'bout your wall,” Lopunny apologized, taking the coin bag in her right paw. “I'll let the guild know to repair it.”
“Oh, no, it's quite all right,” she giggled, “I'll just request Guildmaster Bisharp to have those three Beedrill repair it when he comes- after they pay their bill, or course-”
“Hypocrite!” Yellow Jacket butted in with a wheezing shout. “Your motto is, 'it's on the house', isn't it?! Do you not know what that means?”
“Honey, that's just a business hook,” Wigglytuff told the loud Bug-type. She returned her attention to Lopunny, “They don't understand a thing about business, do they?”
“Yeah, well, neither do I,” Lopunny replied. Walking away from her, she said, “I'll be headin' back to the guild, now; I got nothin' better to do.”
The sound of her doors swiveling brought a stream of relaxation to ease the bartender- so much so- she fainted behind the counter. Her face hit the hard wood floor with a heavy thump, though she felt no pain. She didn't care where she rested for the moment- it'll be better than being on her feet for another minute. “I need a vacation,” she moaned, her relieved voice muffled by the floor.
“Huh.” Oran looked down to his lap, his eyebrows pinched together, “I was expecting more from that fight.”
“You and I both,” the mother told her son, while scratching the back of her left calf with her right foot. “But oh well, I don't really expect much from C-ranks, anyways.” A yawn escaped from her mouth, hitting the back of you open hand. Sinking deeper into her bed as if it and her body became one, she closed her eyes, and told them, “Anyways, mommy's a little tired. Why don't you two run along, maybe go bug Florges for a little while? I'll just be here.” It took her a little while to find a comfortable position, but once she did, she was out cold.
It was cool to Oran that she came back. Just thinking about all the cool things he'll get to do with her, all the cool missions he'll get to do with her in the future, he felt no limit to the butterflies in his stomach!
His train of thought broke, taken by strange ramblings happening somewhere outside her room. Though muffled by the thick stone walls, he could almost make out some of the conversations: some burst in outrage, others were crying, scared. “Hey, Pecha, you hear that?” he asked his sister.
“Yeah,” she said. “What is with everyone?”
By the time Pecha and Oran came to investigate the commotion in the assembly hall, almost all of the guild, except the guildmistress and her assistant, crowded around the request board like a flock of Mandibuzz scoping out a freshly deceased body. Being blocked from view of the request by the much taller adults, all they could make out was: an important mission had just arrived from Bisharp Guild. Or so that's how they interpreted it. They gave them no room to budge through to even see it.
“What are we going to do?” a Swadloon asked.
“There's not much we can do,” a Tangela answered back. “These guys seem pretty tough- I don't think even our strongest guild members can deal with them.”
“B-but what about Guildmistress Florges and her team?” A Butterfree asked. “They're really strong- they can beat these guys. R-right?”
“QUIET, ALL OF YOU!!” Loudred's thunderous voice silenced the masses, and maybe have ruptured an eardrum or two, evidenced by a few Pokémon shaking their heads to get the static hissing out of their ears. “AS SHOCKING AS IT IS, WE ALL HAVE BETTER THINGS TO DO- AND ON TOP OF THAT- YOU'RE ALL MAKING ME CLAUSTROPHOBIC. SO, UNLESS YOU'RE GOING TO GET A MISSION OFF THE REQUEST BOARD: GET BACK TO WORK!!”
Preferring to not listen to another one of Loudred's grading outbursts, the group dispersed from the request board, though not without muttering a few choice words about him to themselves.
Finally open, the children ran right for the board to observe the mission that got everyone so riled. No new, updated missions, except for one that took Oran's eye. He jumped for it, tearing it slightly off the pin that stuck it to the flat timber. His eyes quickly scribbled across the note, only to feel the inside of his skull about to burst, overwhelmed from so many words! He passed it to the Buneary, “Here, sis; can you read it?”
“What, can't read simple words?” she snickered at him, swiping the paper from his paws. She cleared her delicate throat, before beginning:
“THIS IS A STATE OF EMERGENCY TO ALL GUILDS,
Recently, a team of outlaws who call themselves, 'Team Sharktooth', have attacked a small village located in the Beige Plains, killing one and wounding many others. After speaking with the village chief, I have reason to believe they will attempt an assault on the guilds in the near future. There are three members of Team Sharktooth:
Ku the Garchomp- the leader. Sports a large scar across his chest, and one enclosing his left eye. Wanted for: murder of the first degree; acts of terrorism; destruction of property; major theft; and harassment of travelers. Reward for capture: ten-thousand Poké, dead; twenty-thousand Poké, alive.
Pele the Gabite- the only female of the group. Extremely volatile, and highly dangerous. Wanted for: arson; battery; assistance of a dangerous fugitive; major theft; and harassment of travelers. Reward for capture: five-thousand Poké, dead; ten-thousand Poké, alive.
Lono the Gabite- their strategist. Most likely to verbally confront you, rather than physically- suspected to be the least dangerous of the group- but remain cautious while confronting him. Wanted for: conspiracy; assistance of a dangerous fugitive; major theft; and harassment of travelers. Reward for capture: five-thousand Poké, dead; ten-thousand Poké, alive.
Overall outlaw team rank: Star-III
They are carrying a very dangerous item, known as the Inverse Orb. Once in effect, it may turn any confrontation to their favor. Approach with extreme caution.
All explorers ranked Bronze and below: do not engage the enemy- evacuate from the premises immediately. To all explorers ranked Silver and up: you are to confront Team Sharktooth in large groups- do not fight any of them, alone. Any trained guild personnel, such as nurses and combat instructors, are recommended to support their efforts.
We recommend keeping them alive for interrogation purposes- only kill if absolutely necessary.
-Guildmaster Bisharp”
“I wanna fight 'em,” Oran spoke with a casual tone.
“Are you serious?” she objected. “we're not even ranked explorers, Oran, how are we supposed to fight these guys?”
“With fists, that's how,” he answered back. He placed his paws on his sister's shoulders, “Come on, Pecha, think of the challenge!”
“That's not a challenge, Oran- that's just insane,” she told him while shrugging off his hold.
“Don't worry, sis,” he assured her, smiling, “if I train hard enough, I won't lose to 'em-”
“Are you even listening to yourself?!” In a sudden, Oran found her face just inches from touching his. Anger reflected through her button eyes, but it brought with it a worried twitch in her brows. “It doesn't matter how much you train- you're not going to win against them! Have you even considered how long you need to train before it even matters? What if you decide to train tomorrow, and they just show up? Are you still going to fight them?”
“Of course,” he told her. “I can't just let them come and trash my home; I wanna help defend it! I'll leave the other two for you, but I wanna fight the leader dude.”
Pecha clenched her teeth tight while giving her brother an irritated grunt. He was just doing what little siblings do best- enjoying talking nonsense. She had a feeling that's going to bite him back, someday. “Whatever,” she huffed, pushing him aside as she left. “You're unbelievable. If you want to get your legs broken or something, that's your business; but don't drag me into it.”
Before she departed from the hall, he noticed the paper gliding in the air, thrown out of her grip. Rushing to pick it up, a few damp spots appeared across its pulpy surface, soaking in the morning dew from the blades of grass it touched. Skimming through its well-crafted cursive calligraphy brought back faint episodes of a dream he once had: a yet-to-be finished fantasy of him fighting a Garchomp. One way or another, an ending to that dream will be created- even if he had to fight a real Garchomp to get it.
Dusk brought a sleepy indigo tone to Unido's previously clear cerulean sky. One by one the stars began to awake, as the sun decided to retire for the night. Team Sharktooth appeared out from under the earth, one after the other, returning to that familiar little cavern on a prairie. It was good to be home.
With soft breaths of fire, Pele relit the five charred torches suspended on the walls, as her brother laid a map flat on the stone floor. All of Unido was illustrated on the face of the thin paper: the heavily forested South; the oceanic beachfronts of the West; the mountainous badlands up North; the unforgiving deserts occupying the East; and the prairie seas of Central Unido.
“Okay, so right now, we're here,” Lono told his gathering associates, as he drew a small circle Southeast of the prairie with his claw, “and Florges Guild is here,” he said, drawing another little pattern on the Southern tip of the map. “Normally it's about a three or four day journey by foot; since we're faster underground, I'd say we'll hit them in about half a day's time. I recommend attacking them during the night: we'll catch them off-guard, and hopefully it'll make it easier for us to go in, grab whatever treasure they have, and get out-”
“No,” Ku's deep voice objected, “we'll attack them during the day.”
“What?” Said Lono, asking if he heard that right. “What do you mean, 'no'? If we are going to succeed, then we need to strike them when it's most optimal, right? If we hit them at night, they won't fight back as much-”
“I want them to fight back,” Ku replied. “I want them to fight back, and see exactly who crushed them. I want them to see exactly who it was that toppled their foundations. I want them to realize how weak they were for depending on the guilds for strength. And when they've had enough, and cry for mercy- I want them to know exactly who denied their request.”
“Well, I think that's a borderline dumb idea.” Standing to his feet, Lono walked over to the towering dragon, stopping until their bellies were inches apart, and looking him straight in the eye. “Rumor's been going around that our little stunt in the Beige Plains escalated us to a Star-III outlaw team. I've also heard that Bisharp called off his pursuit of us to alert the guilds of our coming. Do you know what that means, Ku? We're walking into our own execution if we fail to hit them at the right time. If damage is to be had, I want as minimum of it to happen as possi-”
For his defiance, the Garchomp whipped his hulking tail into the Gabite's side, smashing him into a wall. Lono fell out of the crater he created, face first onto the floor. He got his trembling self onto his hands and knees, before taking Ku's monstrous kick to his stomach, sending him flopping deeper into the mouth of the cave. All he could do was breath in his own spit, before coughing it back out in a nasty wheezing fit. “Learn your place, Lono,” the leader hissed. “Next time, I won't be merciful.”
“Lono!” Seeing her twin brother near beaten to a pulp in just two blows brought a rare case of worry back into the sister Gabite; she had to help him up!
“Leave him be, Pele!” Ku's daunting roar froze her in place before she had a chance to run to his side. Hearing his voice being raised like that was the worst of her nightmares come to life, sending her entire body into a shivering tantrum. “Listen, the both of you: I don't care what ideas you have of going about this- we are doing this my way. Damage control is out of the question. There will be resistance- and resistance is meant to be crushed. We will leave no one standing, with or without the treasure. After tonight, there is no going back; we will cross the point of no return, whether you like it or not. If you can't handle it, I will save myself the trouble, and kill you now. Do I make myself clear?”
“Y-y-y-yes, s-sir,” Pele squeaked.
“You both need your strength, so rest up for tonight,” Ku told them as he turned around to walk out of the cave. “I will be on watch duty.” The walls of the cavern obscured him from Pele's sight as he walked out side, to the left of the cave.
Taking the time while he's out, Pele sat down by her aching brother on the floor, still trying to calm herself from the shivers. “G-gee,” she whispered to him, her voice only audible from the echoes of the cave, “I-I think you really got to him.”
“What...ever,” Lono wheezed, “he just can't take other people's opinions. Short-sighted punk; I hope a low hanging branch pokes him in his good eye. That'll be funny.”
A subtle, yet somewhat chilling breeze whistled across the Garchomp's navy blue scales as he sat in the sea of dried grass, watching the moon rise from the East. What a beautiful shape it had, tonight: a full moon, partly censored from passing clouds. Its pale light was enough to hypnotize him, becoming something of a luxury to him since he turned to the busy life of an outlaw. He could stare at it all night if he wanted, just like the old days.
And sometimes, if he stared long enough at it, it felt to him like it stared back like a familiar smiling face in his past. It only left him wanting the moon even more.
