Difference between revisions of "Complementaries"
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This was the magic set of words (or, rather, the thinly veiled bribery) that Miss Payapa had been waiting for, unlocking her capability to both sit up in bed and cooperate with Anana. “Really? So just cook the eggs? I can do that.” | This was the magic set of words (or, rather, the thinly veiled bribery) that Miss Payapa had been waiting for, unlocking her capability to both sit up in bed and cooperate with Anana. “Really? So just cook the eggs? I can do that.” | ||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | [[File:Complementaries7.jpg|center]]<br> | ||
+ | So many pretty patterns on all of the eggs! If there was something she could appreciate, it was the colors. They all came in different sizes, different colors, but all were about the same basic shape. Rounded oval. It wouldn’t occur to her until later on that day that these eggs still might have had a chance at life, and that they had been rather expensive to obtain. So, she cracked each one open and onto the frying pan, tossing a plethora of rainbow shell pieces into the trash bin during her time at the stove. Save the plain, white eggs for her mother, every other egg had been a beauty. | ||
+ | |||
+ | It had actually been a pretty color of purple egg that had helped spark her decision of primary color. Most Kecleon did it a little later, but she had decided very early on that her color was purple. Her parents joked (but not really) that it meant she had a little of both of them in her: the swift temper from her father, and the sense of wonder at the world from her mother. Lately, she didn’t think her mother really had much wonder left in her, but she kept their little quip in the back of her mind regardless. It was easy to take what parents said for fact, even if it was sort of a non-serious comment. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Finally, all the eggs had been cooked, all the plates served. Normally they had some sort of fruit, and sometimes another source of protein, but not this morning. Well, if Anana got back in time, there’d at least be juice. “Dad! Come get your plate! Is Anana back yet?” | ||
+ | |||
+ | “No she ain’t, and hold yer Ponytas, I’m comin! Gimme a minute girl,” he shouted from... somewhere in the back room. She didn’t really care what he was up to, but did care that he ate his eggs before they got cold. She didn’t prefer another incident with a smashed plate because he came to his food late, forgetting it had been his fault the meal had turned cold. | ||
+ | |||
+ | “No! It’s hot ‘n ready <i>now</i>, Dad! Come on! I picked a cool egg!” | ||
+ | |||
+ | A few seconds later, he finally emerged. “Alright, alright... well, go wake yer mom. She’s sleepin in. As usual,” he snorted. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Payapa, who had already adjusted herself and her seat at the table, was loathe to go fetch her mother. However, the consequences of not doing so would be worse. The entire family’s day would become pretty terrible if she didn’t wake her mom up pronto. Still... she was really irritated that her <i>own</i> food had the chance of becoming cold. It ruined the enjoyment of the eggs! “But Dad, I--” was all she could muster before she got a lash to the face. She fought back warm tears, hardly realizing what had happened before her eyes reacted. She tentatively placed a hand to her stinging cheek, and averted her gaze from his harsh glare. | ||
+ | |||
+ | “Yes?” | ||
+ | |||
+ | “Dad, I just want to eat my eggs...” | ||
+ | |||
+ | “I betcha do. We’ll be havin a talk about that later, anyway. It’s about time. Go fetch your mother.” | ||
+ | |||
+ | She pawed at her cheek a little more, considering her options. She really just wanted to enjoy her breakfast at its best, but wasn’t sure she wanted to take a lashing to the bottom that morning for the sake of being defiant. It was a tough choice. Either way, she wasn’t going to get to eat warm eggs. Her mother was notoriously hard to wake from a deep slumber, and often seemed to use naps as a way to escape reality. Payapa’s heart sank a little, wondering what the rest of the day had in store. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Finally, after moments more of deliberation, she decided that today was not a day to stand up to her dad. On previous occasions, she had argued with him and ended up in trouble over the most mundane of things, taking lashings for refusing to apologize for the way she’d said this or that (and still never having apologized for such follies). As a tiny child, it was as if she couldn’t fathom why she might be asked to do these things, and was offended at the proposition. As she got older, she started to understand that sometimes you had to fake it in order to get along. Payapa thought her sister had picked up on this much earlier than she herself had. | ||
+ | |||
+ | So, for the rare chance of playing with Anana later that day, she had made the equally rare decision to swallow her pride. She scooted her chair out and hopped out of her seat without much enthusiasm. | ||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | [[File:Complementaries8.png|center]]<br> | ||
+ | Humming a little ditty she’d heard some customers singing the other day, Anana made her way along the path back to their house. It was hardly a long walk, but she had forgotten to bring any money to the little stall near their place, and thus had to assure the owners she would bring it later after breakfast. It would have taken too long to get it from their own warehouse; that was at least another ten minutes each way, and eggs did not take very long to cook. Oh well. She was in a relatively good mood. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Along the way, almost right before the corner you had to turn at to reach their home, was a furniture maker’s house. He had a very reflective window, the large kind used to display wares. So, of course, there were ornate pieces of furniture behind it. But what caught Anana’s attention was her reflection. Her pale green, with her deep, orange facial stripes... | ||
+ | |||
+ | Payapa had been right... | ||
+ | |||
+ | It really was kind of ugly. | ||
+ | |||
+ | She frowned a little, slowing enough to regard her unfavorable color for an extended period of time, and then picked up the pace once more. Maybe she would be able to decide a better color soon, but she just didn’t know what it was. Not yet. | ||
+ | |||
+ | All thoughts of could-bes left her head the moment she walked through the front door. The dead silence from the breakfast table was an immediate signal that something had happened during her brief absence. Some sort of fight. Anana frowned further. If this was a sign of things to come... | ||
+ | |||
+ | She took dainty steps to the kitchen, attempting to feign a happy mood, pretending to be oblivious to all that was wrong with the family picture. She had found that if you just acted like things were good, then sometimes others played along, and that was an acceptable substitute. It was certainly much more favorable than this detestable, horrendous silence, at least. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Anana kept humming the little tune. If she could just break through the nasty silence enough, things might become right. “Hi, guys! I got some fresh juice this morning! I thought it might be a little nicer than water, you know?” She poured one for each of them: four total, with a little more in the last cup for her sister. Anana took a moment to appreciate the pretty mauve fluid in its semi-transparency. The daylight was hitting the juice in a neat way from the kitchen’s window, and she welcomed the distraction. A certain shade of purple might have made a nice color for her, but her sister had already chosen that... | ||
+ | |||
+ | Well. There had to be another color, one for her. Or maybe she was just resigned to green. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Grabbing two of the cups, she walked to her mother and father, sitting wordlessly in front of their plates. Her father’s meal had been eaten already, but her mother’s sat untouched. The same was to be said for her sister’s... which was unusual. Payapa was known to like eggs. Anana became extremely uneasy. | ||
+ | |||
+ | She sat the cups down. “Here, Daddy! It should taste really good, it’s super fresh! And here you go, Mama.” | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the very least, her mother managed to speak up, albeit barely. “Thank you, dear.” There was clearly restless fatigue in her voice, and this worried Anana. A picture of what had happened started to form in her head, though she made a note to ask Payapa later for the details. | ||
+ | |||
+ | And then she took an actual look... | ||
+ | |||
+ | ...and noticed that Payapa was sitting with her head down, staring listlessly at the table. Anana felt a little sick. She didn’t want to spend the whole day picking up the pieces of whatever conflict had exploded. She returned to the counter and grabbed the two remaining cups. If nothing else, she would at least show her sister she had kept her end of the bargain and gotten the favored drink. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Anana placed the fullest glass next to the untouched eggs of her sister. “Here you go, Sissy, here’s yours!” She considered adding in a remark about how it had better be enjoyed after all the effort she went through and all that jazz --a playful remark-- but decided that such a joke would make it incredibly obvious that she was trying to ignore the oppressive tension of the situation. So she simply took her own seat, instead. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Anana was halfway into her first bite when their father spoke up. “You both need to know about where eggs come from.” | ||
+ | |||
+ | She paused. Answering as sweetly as possible was key here. Maybe it would lessen his apparent anger at... well, Prosphora knew what. “What do you mean, Daddy?” | ||
+ | |||
+ | He spoke coldly. “I’m talkin about you two bein old enough, for, well, egg stuff. I got a list, and both of you are gonna memorize it. It’s a list of all yer compatibilities. I expect y’all both to know this by heart in the morn.” Anana noticed her sister fidgeting in the chair as soon as he started talking. She knew Payapa well enough to know memorization was not her favorite thing in the world, so Anana decided right then that she’d try to find a way to make it interesting for them both later that day. | ||
+ | |||
+ | “Yes, sir, Daddy. It sounds very important.” | ||
+ | |||
+ | He looked at her sternly, and then asked with suspicion: “Are you sassin me, girl?” | ||
+ | |||
+ | She was actually surprised at this. That wasn’t her thing; defiance was her sister’s thing! It bothered her that he would even suggest this, but she let it slide. He was obviously upset and his senses had slipped... “No... no, not at all! Egg stuff sounds very important, or you wouldn’t be telling us about it! You wouldn’t waste our time, Daddy...sir!” | ||
+ | |||
+ | He settled back into his chair, momentarily placated. “Alrighty then. Well first off, you girls know where eggs come from at all? Tell me now, honestly.” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Anana felt uncomfortable. She had a vague sense that it involved stuff parents did when they were alone, but that was about it. She had no clue if her sister knew more than that. “No, sir. I mean, I know they come from moms somehow, but...” | ||
+ | |||
+ | “Right.” He looked to Payapa. “And you?” | ||
+ | |||
+ | She fidgeted in her seat for a moment more before meekly replying. “Um... no, not really. I mean, ‘sides what Anana said...” | ||
+ | |||
+ | “Hmm. Well, you’re both at that age where boys are gonna want to get real close to you. I mean, really close. And if you get too close to the wrong boys, you get an egg. And then we got trouble because that boy is gonna try and mooch off of your mother ‘n me. And I hate moochers.” He took the first sip of juice of the four of them, and then continued on when he was well and ready. “So I’m gonna give both of y’all a list of types of boys you gotta keep your guard up around. | ||
+ | |||
+ | “And speakin of eggs, I know girls just naturally lay em sometimes. I do know somethin bout ladies, y’know. Y’all are both of that age too. But I can tell the difference between an egg with a baby waitin inside and one without. How? Well, it’s real easy. The types of eggs your mother eats each mornin? Those ain’t got a thing, they’re blank, duds. All white. Can one of y’all guess how you know there coulda been a baby, then?” | ||
+ | |||
+ | It didn’t immediately dawn upon Anana what the alternate type of egg was, since she wasn’t the usual cook in the morning. It did, however, immediately dawn upon her sister, who turned a rather pale shade of purple in an instant. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Payapa barely opened her mouth to utter a couple of words. “The colors...” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Their father smiled, though something almost sinister was visible beneath the surface. Or maybe that was just the lighting. “That’s right. The colored eggs coulda ended up as little baby ‘mons one day. Not anymore though. They ain’t gonna be more than a meal, now. Yer mother won’t eat em, you know her thing against meat, but you girls oughta been able to tell that the eggs we eat are always really tasty. Always a bit different from each other, too. That’s cause there are so many types of Pokemon. It’s hard to get these eggs, y’know? It’s sort of a... a secret market thing. | ||
+ | |||
+ | “But where was I? Oh, right. So don’t think I won’t know if there’s some egg you’re hidin from me after you got too close to a bad boy. I’ll know. But if you’re just sheddin a dud, that’s just life. Lots of girls do that. Tons of chicks at the ol’ ranch did that each ‘n every morn, and we’d fry em up just like yer sis did here.” | ||
+ | |||
+ | This inspired a new sense of horror in Anana, causing her to push her plate to the side. “So wait, we’re going to lay eggs too? And then someone’s going to... eat them?! That’s so gross... That’s so gross! Why?!” | ||
+ | |||
+ | “Well it’s a natural thing, but yeah, dud eggs are common and good eats. We won’t eat em, cause that’d kinda be like cannibalism or somethin, but we can sell em for a nice penny. Eggs are priced by rareness ‘n all that,” he explained. Anana felt rather ill looking at the cold eggs she’d started to nibble. She wasn’t sure she could stomach them anymore. It was basically like she’d bitten into a pair of babies... and this made her want to vomit. | ||
+ | |||
+ | “Daddy... sir?” she asked. | ||
+ | |||
+ | “What is it, girly?” Firm, but caring undertones. Whatever terrible Pokemon she had thought was present earlier had faded in an instant, and he was her daddy again. Not the mean one who seemed to like divulging horrible secrets that chipped away at her childhood. | ||
+ | |||
+ | “Can I-- may I be excused? I’m not very hungry this morning.” | ||
+ | |||
+ | “Sure thing. I’m gonna give your mother the list later, and both you best make sure to mind me. Memorize it well.” He looked from Anana to his other daughter. “You too. Especially you.” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Anana excused herself quickly and ran to her shared bedroom, where she decided what toys, if any, she wanted to bring to the beach in an unsuccessful effort to get that breakfast conversation out of her mind. | ||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | [[File:Complemetaries9.png|center]]<br> | ||
+ | “Oh, no... no no, please do put that with the other-- no, not there! Ah, just give it over, please. Let me place it.” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Malt looked at his stand-in boss dubiously. PK had been pretty explicit about a lot of commands while Shroomsworth was out on his extended leave (to put it mildly, but not entirely accurately), and here he was, directing Malt to run the place much differently. Malt wasn’t even entirely sure that Shroomsworth should have been allowed to do this at all, but it was a welcome burden relieved from his own shoulders. He did wonder, though, how they ever reconciled these differences while running it together, but placed that curiosity to the side for the time being. | ||
+ | |||
+ | “Well, that’s not where PK ever wanted--” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shroomsworth stood up stiff, and his face both darkened and hardened. He spoke sharply in return. “And she’s not here at the moment, now is she?” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Malt flinched, and after a moment of scrupulation from Shroomsworth, he relaxed just enough to look at Malt wearily. It clearly was not his intent to snap over something so trivial as the placement of a berry that wasn’t particularly known for being alluring to shoppers. And yet, he <i>had</i> snapped. | ||
+ | |||
+ | “Well, no matter,” Shroomsworth quietly spoke to himself. “When she... returns, we’ll discuss it together. That’s what we’ll do,” he affirmed. Malt didn’t hear the confidence he desired in his boss’s feeble assurance, but it would have to do. It was really all either of them had. | ||
+ | |||
+ | They worked on in near-silence for the better part of half an hour, tidying and organizing to the best of their ability. When something Malt was doing conflicted with something Shroomsworth was trying to do, Shroomsworth was the one to wordlessly concede and start on another task. Eventually Malt went upstairs to fetch something, and in this window of time--despite that it was yet another half hour ‘til the shop was supposed to be open to any non-Merchant--someone unfamiliar to Shroomsworth had shown up at the front entrance and was demanding to be let in. The drapes were pulled quite taut and he didn’t really want to untie them if the shop wasn’t even supposed to be open yet. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shroomsworth considered ignoring the fellow, and then outright decided to tune him out. His night watch had left out the back shortly after he and Malt had woken up and started their morning tasks. Any <i>actual</i> Merchant would have known to show up or exit from the rear door, where Callahan’s portion of the hut lay. This stopped most Merchants from showing up before anyone important wanted them about, as no one ever liked dealing with the guild registrar if they could find a way to avoid it (which they usually did). | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shroomsworth was in the middle of preparing the cash register while daydreaming about giving Callahan a swift punch to the jaw when something about the atmosphere struck him as wrong. He had trouble placing what, exactly, wasn’t right about the air, when a horrible, nasty ripping sound made his spine tingle with the odd mixture of dread and annoyance. The heavy fabric being torn immediately illuminated what had unnerved him moments prior; his unwanted guest had gone deathly silent after a few minutes of protest, and Shroomsworth hadn’t quite noticed until it was too late. He was simply that good at tuning others out when he so desired. | ||
+ | |||
+ | He immediately dashed toward the front entrance. Claws! Really, now. Using claws to shred the drapes! It especially irked him, as Chrys had been asked to make an extremely heavy-duty set of cloths, and here, now, they were so easily rendered scraps? That Chrys was going to receive a talking-to! Right after this impatient customer, of course. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Before he had fully made the stride across the store, the draperies’ assailant sauntered through the entrance. And behind, presumably a friend. Shroomsworth recognized the smaller one’s species, as there were several on many of the teams around Tao. It was a Meowth, but did not look to be any from a team he recognized. It did wear a black bowtie, but there looked to be a shiny, golden orb in its center. He presumed gold as fake as the headpiece it wore, most likely. The bigger of the two wore an ascot the same color as the bowtie. He wasn’t entirely sure what its species was, but presumed it to be related to the Meowth. An evolution, perhaps? Neither looked exceedingly dangerous, in any case. Even if they were, he and Malt would take care of them in an instant. | ||
+ | |||
+ | But first, it was time to discuss compensation for the costly fabric. He pursed his lips into a faux-friendly smile before speaking curtly. “I assume,” he said, motioning back to the curtains, “that you’ll have the money to me for those soon, then?” | ||
+ | |||
+ | The larger one seemed momentarily confused. It cast half a glance to the shred sheets before deciding it was hardly even worth the effort. “And who are you? I wish to speak to speak to Payapa.” Before receiving any sort of response, and indeed without even appearing to wait for a confirmation at all, the pair headed toward the staircase to the bedrooms. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shroomsworth was taken aback. Mostly, he was dumbfounded by how thoroughly this fellow was dismissing him. He made a single leap to block their ascension. “Excuse me? This is the upper floor, where the private bedrooms-” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Thoroughly disgusted at this minor impediment, the bigger cat glowered at this monocled barrier before impatiently brushing him off. “Yes, yes, I know. Are you a new hire? If you do not move, I cannot assure you you’ll remain under employment for much longer. Now, move.” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shroomsworth was still having trouble adjusting to the haughtiness of this cat, but he took a moment to breathe and regain his composure. Something about this was really, extraordinarily familiar. He had dealt with many customers full of themselves before, but this particular Pokemon took it to a new level. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shroomsworth held back his aggravation and attempted to get a handle on the best thing to say in this situation. He could be upset over this later, but not now. “May I please ask for your name then, sir?” | ||
+ | |||
+ | More repulsion. The larger cat’s tail started to flick from side to side. It was eerily similar to what PK’s own tail did while provoked. He answered, but not without an air of condescendence. “You must be new. So ill-informed. But, I’ll grace you with knowledge, regardless. I am Twigs. And though you did not ask it, this is my brother-in-law, Styx. Now, move. I hate to waste breath.” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Twigs made to walk past Shroomsworth and up the steps, but the Merchant would have none of it. Another swift block, brushing against his whiskers. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Twigs... that was... | ||
+ | |||
+ | Ah! | ||
+ | |||
+ | “Hold on a right second! Are you from the woods? Ah, I mean, Windswept Woods? Are you the... the villa owner?” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Twigs’s agitation was dampened with Shroomsworth’s recollection. “I am. It appears you are slightly less ill-informed than you first appeared. Now, if you would move, I have business with my dear Payapa.” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shroomsworth swayed his hips to once again block the cat off from the upper floor. Finally, it was coming back to him. This fellow was exactly the same in written format as he was in reality; it was no wonder he was so immediately familiar. Still... wait, what? His <i>dear</i> Payapa? | ||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | [[File:Complementaries10.png|center]]<br> | ||
+ | How was this to be approached? He wasn’t sure. At the very least, he had to feign respect, for Twigs had been a rich client early on in Shroomsworth’s history of corresponding in lieu of PK. “Er... well, the good madam is out right now. I respectfully ask that you return at a later date.” He wished badly that there was a way to avoid talking about the Tao crisis, and hoped Twigs would comply. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Of course, as anyone could guess, Twigs did not. “No. I wish to see her now. Are you hiding her? Where has she gone?” | ||
+ | |||
+ | “She’s out, as I’ve told you. I know not where. She... didn’t tell anyone before going, you must understand.” This was an extremely uncomfortable subject for Shroomsworth, but he did his best to answer honestly. Well... it was all factually correct at least, even if not the whole truth. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Displeased, Twigs crouched down and wiggled his rump. Shroomsworth immediately tensed, prepared for an attack, when Twigs sailed right over his head and landed up a dozen steps or so. Shroomsworth whipped around to see the cat sprinting to the top and down the hallway. | ||
+ | |||
+ | “Oh, for the love of...” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Before that thought could be finished, he heard the very particular, very piercing sound of glass shards exploding. He raised a pair of claws to his face and wrung his cheek in an exasperated motion. Wondering if a troublemaker snuck in while he was dealing with his finicky client, he hopped around the corner to confront the source of the broken goods. He discovered he was half right: it was indeed a troublemaker that had taken advantage of the gap in Shroomsworth’s attention a minute or so before, but no sneaking was required. | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was simply Styx. He held another mirror in his paws, of the same variety as the shattered one now on the ground, and smiled vacantly. He loosened his grip and dropped this second one straight down. Shroomsworth felt himself turn a little paler; these were expensive! Handcrafted! Particular design around the edges! And, what? Just because his brother was rich, this little fool thought he could do as he pleased? | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shroomsworth’s patience was being drained much more rapidly than the brothers’ deficit was adding up. “Stop that, this instant! You are ruining perfectly good wares, and I shall have you removed at once!” | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Meowth continued its little smirk, empty of any real emotion, and crouched down. Shroomsworth leaned forward to grab him before any more profit could be sacrificed (for who knew if Twigs would really pay?), but Styx had fooled him in the same manner as Twigs. He made a very large leap up to a shelf reserved for boxes of overstock. Hardly being the most adept of climbers or jumpers, one of the boxes was knocked over in his wake. | ||
+ | |||
+ | What sounded like a few dozen glass items shattering at once could be heard as the box hit the ground, spilling shards and a rich, purple goo in a single wave outward. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shroomsworth made a sort of little squeak that was the byproduct of extreme anger and disbelief, and wet his lips, getting ready to yell. Simply incredible. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In this situation, with a cat racing along the tops of the shelves, Shroomsworth found himself not knowing how to proceed. Dashing after the cat would result in more broken goods, undoubtedly. So, what was there to be done? | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the middle of a crazy leap from one shelf to the next, Styx was yelling, “I saw him go outta the mirror, nyeh heh!” He zoomed behind the boxed goods and made another leap of faith, during which he spoke his nonsense once more. “He went back to his castle where he rules the plebes, nyehah!” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shroomsworth saw his opportunity in these leaps. He had to wait for a pattern in the Meowth’s seemingly-erratic laps, and catch him up during one of these jumps. If he could do that, Styx would be his. | ||
+ | |||
+ | He followed Styx with his eyes, moved carefully into place. If there was something Shroomsworth was adept at, it was seeing a pattern in what looked to be a random set of movements. | ||
+ | |||
+ | “He’s gotta wear his crown until it gets broke, but he can’t do it himself, nyehehe! He told me so himself, and so did his friends.” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Another crash from a box thrust from the shelf thanks to the tiny cat’s momentum. Almost, though. Styx was almost assured to make a flying jump from the left to the second shelf behind him... it was in his body language, in the crazed look contorting that face otherwise devoid of emotion. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The leap was made, as foreseen, and Styx was plucked midair by a perfect stretch of the arms. Shroomsworth had caught his quarry. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Right in time for Malt to gaze below, confused, from the railing above. “Hey... what’s going on?” | ||
---- | ---- |
Revision as of 18:56, 23 October 2012
“Dear, could you grab the wooden Totodiles for me?”
Payapa grabbed an armful without complaint, but one fell and clattered to the floor. A sharp look from her mother was all she received, and nothing more. It could have been worse, and it could have happened in the presence of her father. Happily, this was not the case today. She bent down and grabbed the little trinket, nearly dropping another.
“It would go a lot quicker if you just made two trips, dear. There’s no need to take it all in one go like that.”
Payapa considered this, but ignored it. She didn’t really want to be helping stock the day’s items to begin with. It was likely that she wasn’t even going to be allowed to help sell to customers that day, anyway. Thus she was bored by the task. What use was it stocking everything if she wasn’t going to be selling it? Someone else could do such boring work. Well, that’s what she’d have liked. Anana was unavailable; currently, the more respectful daughter was going over some things with their father (What things? Merchant things, things Payapa wasn’t privy to quite yet.)
So, she was stuck doing boring stocking, learning all about the systems of organization that led to more money flowing into the hands of the Kecleon family. That was always the goal.
Letting her mind wander, Payapa decided that she would always get someone else to deal with that crap when she had her own store. (And it wasn’t really a question of if, but when. It was actually a little bold to dream such, considering that their parents hadn’t even decided she was worth training alongside Anana yet.)
Eventually, after a few more trips of awkwardly carrying boxes and stacks of things to her mother, Payapa was done with her duty that morning. In truth, she could have stayed and helped actually arrange the items on the shelves, make sure everything looked nice before the main shop opened-- but she was hardly interested. What was the point? She didn’t really care how it all looked if she wasn’t even going to get to help run the place.
She was vaguely aware that this made her look lazy in the eyes of her parents, perpetuating their decision to favor training Anana in salesmanship, but it didn’t really affect her decision much. If anything, it only gave a slight pause to her step before she left the building.
And so the day was hers! The entire rest of the day was free to her to do with as she pleased. Anana wouldn’t have that luxury until maybe the afternoon, after the busy noon shift was over and their father took over selling by himself. Or their mother. This was more and more the case lately, as there were often things to be done and overlooked in some little village their father also managed. It was just big enough that it was a good place for shipments to pass through on their way to Alomomola City: a quaint little place called Tao Village. Payapa didn’t figure she’d like it very much, as the city had really captured her heart. So many Pokemon! So many things to do! There was really never any end to the entertainment that could be found in the city, and this tickled her childish sense of wonder greatly.
After wandering around for a bit, Payapa left the pier. It was a nice pier and all, and housed a lot of different stores along its length, but she knew them all too well to be very interested in any of them at the moment. She decided that perhaps she would find someone to play with until Anana was done with her own work for the day.
Payapa didn’t really have any particular friends she could call on to want to spend time with her; she only really knew of some kids from the rough neighborhood who sometimes would throw a ball with her, or maybe play in constructed forts near their shanty homes. She had a suspicion, one that had started to insidiously creep its way into the back of her mind, that these kids didn’t particularly care for her. It was hard to place, but she felt that this assessment was more-or-less correct. She wanted to be trusting like many small children often are, but had started rather early to pick apart motivations... making it incredibly difficult to be a friend without some level of reservation.
But these creeping thoughts didn’t matter so much when she just wanted someone to play with for a few hours. So, she dismissed them and carried on.
The foreign merchants lining the streets--having done business with her parents countless times--recognized Payapa and nodded as she passed. She acknowledged them with a half grin. The day was still hers, so she could afford smiles to those boring adults.
Eventually, as she reached the poorer area of the city, she noticed something in particular. There was a Pichu with a little green cloth tied around his head like a bandana, and this fellow was standing very high up on a pile of discarded wood and pieces of houses. Much rubble lined the base of this mountain of refuse, and Payapa was sure that if a fall was taken from the top to the bottom, someone would have a very unpleasant morning.
Luckily, this kid knew what he was doing. He made a giant leap, and just when Payapa was certain this kid was crazy, a Taillow darted out of nowhere and caught the Pichu on its back. It was smaller than the Pichu even, and still this tiny bird had managed such a feat. Someone had confidence, apparently, and rightfully so.
While she didn’t particularly know these kids, Payapa thought she might have a good time with them. Maybe she’d spot the other kids she normally played with while they were out and about. But first, she needed to get their attention.
As the pair made their way around the sky, something snapped the underside of the Taillow’s belly and the force caused the Pichu to go flying and into the dirt. The Taillow had nearly crashed, but avoided it at the last moment with a sharp u-turn away from some rotting wood jutting out of the earth.
The Pichu was understandably confused. And annoyed. “Gail!” he cried out in a squeaky voice (that was incredibly hard to take seriously.) “You tryin to kill me, eh? What was that?!”
This “Gail” was irked too. “It wasn’t my fault, Chulo! Something smacked me!” She flitted around near her friend when she spotted a very conspicuous Kecleon. “It was you!” she cried, landing next to Chulo.
Payapa grinned. “I want a ride too! But you gotta be more careful than that, or someone could knock you around like I did. So I’d say your speed needs some work, prolly.”
This sent Gail into a little flurry of rage. “What’s your problem?! You wanna make me crash? What’s your deal you little snot? Get out of here!” she shrieked, hopping forward and puffing her chest out. If the intent was to make her look more intimidating, it didn’t really particularly work. All she managed to do was look a little bit puffier. “You’re too fat to ride anyway, you’d break my back!”
Payapa’s good mood held steadfast until that last remark cracked it a bit. She would have figured out a way to get a ride out of the girl, but now she just kind of wanted to beat them both up.
Chulo didn’t say anything, merely watched. He seemed to be racking his brain for something, trying to recall some life-saving piece of information. Finally, recognition washed over his face, and he whispered something to Gail. Payapa couldn’t quite make it out, but she was getting pretty steamed.
Whatever Chulo had said to Gail had shifted her demeanor entirely, however. Gail did a complete 180 in a matter of moments. “Just playin’ around. I’ll give you a ride if you want.”
Payapa was caught off guard. What had changed? She wasn’t entirely sure, but didn’t dwell on it lest the little bird change its mind. Flying was something she had always liked, and finally someone was going to let her in on this awesome experience. She made a mental note to gloat about this later to Anana. She made a second mental note to remember to leave these two behind before Anana was done working so that she wouldn’t have the chance to ride as well, for what fun would it be to gloat if her sister had also gotten to fly?
Payapa approached the two without visible caution, though she was eyeing them warily. Just in case. Gail seemed to be eyeing her just as warily. The Pichu extended a paw in friendly greeting as she got close enough to them, though, and dispelled the tense atmosphere. “Hey chica, I’m Chulo. This is Gail. What brings you out to our little place?” There was something about the way he said the words, something that implied she wasn’t supposed to be here in their territory. Or perhaps she had imagined this subtext.
She shrugged it off and introduced herself. “Well, I’m Payapa. I’m just looking to play and stuff. My sister’s busy til like, I dunno, noon or something. You guys know Rionna? She has a cool ball.”
Chulo’s eyes widened. “You know that kid? She doesn’t really talk to a whole lot of us...”
Gail fluttered her wings a little. “She’s kinda weird. Whaddya do with her?”
Payapa considered this. “I dunno, sometimes we try to hit the ball over stuff. We practice a lot of moves and stuff together. It’s kinda fun. Why? What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s quiet and weird!” Chulo answered hastily. As if in afterthought upon realizing those reasons weren’t very adequate, he added, “Plus, she always finds us in hide and seek. I feel like she prolly cheats or something, it’s garbage.”
Payapa took this as a personal challenge and leaned forward aggressively, as if to close the gap between her and the other two. “I didn’t know she played that game! I bet I could beat her, I’m pretty much the best at it.” It was easy to state such a thing with confidence. Kecleon were, as many knew, able to turn invisible at whim. Except for a small stripe across their belly, that was.
Chulo furrowed his brow. “You really think so? She’s never lost a game, y’know. This chica’s got some mad skills, I don’t think you’d be winning.”
Agitated now, Payapa’s tail uncurled and whipped around erratically. “I’m the best, I’m telling you! I’m even better than my sister. She’s no good at fighting or hiding or anything like that. But I am. I’m awesome at it.”
Gail looked uneasy. Chulo continued on anyway in the same manner. “Nah, I’m tellin ya, I’ll even bet on it. I bet you... a whole box of berries that this Rionna’s gonna blow you outta the water. She’s got some way.”
Payapa instantly ate up this bet. “Uh huh, whatever! Sure, I’ll bet that. I’ve never lost a game. Never.”
However, Chulo still wasn’t shaken or moved at all by her confidence. In fact, he looked delighted that she had taken him up on this challenge. It was then that she realized that despite her confidence, he had bet anyway, and that they probably had nothing to offer in exchange. But they would surely bother her to death for the food in the event that she actually... No, that was stupid to think. She wasn’t going to lose. What was a better trump card than near-complete invisibility? There was really no way to cheat against that. As a matter of fact, it was more likely that she would be branded the cheater here, despite using a natural ability.
After an hour or two of searching, the triplet stumbled upon their quarry. It took a lot of extensive searching through the torn planks and fallen walls of northern Alomomola, but finally Rionna was within sight. It was purely by accident; huddled around her ball, Rionna had been taking a nap under a partially built stairway when Chulo accidentally collapsed one of the stairs and nearly landed upon her body below. Her first reaction was to stumble back, and for this error she suffered a lump to the back of her head courtesy of the rotted wood.
Payapa looked over her opponent carefully. There didn’t seem to be any immediate, obvious tricks. Rionna was a scruffy child. A tough, yet quiet, Riolu. She wore a tattered little poncho (which Payapa’s parents would have loathed to see within 20 feet of either of their children), and perpetually carried with her the only other possession to her name, her prized toy ball. It was remarkably sturdy despite the beatings it frequently took from Rionna, her brothers, and Payapa. It wasn’t a looker, but it was a fun toy, and that was what mattered to the children.
Rionna wasn’t very pleased to have been woken up from her nap in such a way, but this simply said to Payapa that this girl wasn’t going to be much of a challenge for her hide-and-seek prowess. If she couldn’t even take a successful nap in a good hiding spot, how on earth was she to find such a Kecleon of stealth? After a little bit of chit-chat, Rionna learned of both the reason they sought her out and of the wager on her head. She agreed to play the game. Payapa became suspicious.
Eventually, the question had to be asked. Rionna was the one to do it. “So, which one of us is ‘spost to seek first?”
“Well, you’re not gonna find me, so I might as well go first. That sound all righty with you?”
Rionna stood in silence for a few moments. Chulo and Gail looked at her with slight apprehension. Eventually, Rionna replied. “That’s fine. But what if you find me? Is it my turn to seek then? Or do we end the game?”
At this, the tiny Kecleon laughed. It was a little rude and a little obnoxious, but the idea that she should lose the game was so absurd that she was unable to contain it. Chulo looked on with unease, but Rionna maintained her proud stance. Payapa cut off her laughing upon realizing the others did not find it quite so hilarious, and then fumbled around for her next words. “Well,” she started, “I wanna finish this game ‘fore my sister gets out here. So if you can find me before... hmm.” Payapa looked toward the sky, briefly calculating the time. “If I can’t find you before about noon, then we’ll just end the game and ya’ll win the bet. Kay?”
This sounded plenty fair to Chulo, but Gail seemed annoyed by the suggested longevity of the game. “That’s way too much time! Anyone could find her by then!”
Rionna spoke before Payapa could protest. “I think that sounds fair. In hide and seek I usually like to both... hide and seek, but I’m okay if you just want me to hide.”
This was not what anyone had expected to hear from the Riolu. Least of all, Payapa. That Rionna should agree so easily was disconcerting. It made her reconsider the order the game should be played in. “Yanno what,” she said, sauntering up to Rionna, “I think I actually wanna hide first. I happen to like it more, and if we’re gonna only be doing one round here to pick the winner, I wanna do the thing I like best. That a problem?”
Rionna clutched her ball momentarily, then eased up a bit. “That’s okay with me. I’ll look for you.”
Perfect, Payapa thought. I don’t even have to do the boring part. I bet I can find some sweet hiding spots today. But which one is the best?
The next course of action was to put Rionna in a dark shanty to count loudly and away from the others. Chulo and Gail scattered in opposite directions, and Payapa immediately sprinted off when the count began. She wasn’t terribly speedy, but she could move it when she wanted. Playing with Rionna had helped her reflexes quite a bit. There was hardly another child so physically adept in the entire bay, counting even those children of the dojo she passed on her way to the shanties. Rionna was strong and sharp.
After a short trek, still within range of the hide and seek count, she eventually happened upon a large shell of a building. It had been one she overlooked many times before, but that very fact made it seem like an ideal hiding place. This building looked more complete than the others, but it was still missing many boards, and had a torn banner advertising a shop that had long since ceased to exist. It seemed a little spooky, despite no ghost sightings really having occurred near there... like the world was simply ajar nearby.
Not wanting to lose the bet, she entered the building through a hole in the side of the boards. Her mother would have nearly fainted to see such a dangerous thing done (all those splinters you could get! Oh, dear, you’re going to get infected!), and her father would have beaten her bottom from purple to dark blue. Regardless, she had crawled through the hole anyway.
The building was two stories tall, but the ceiling reached the very top of the building for approximately half of it. The feeling of the building was terribly oppressive in spite of the very open space provided by the second story only taking up the back half of the building. There was a musty taste to the air that Payapa hated, and she was sure she could almost hear voices whisp--
No, that was nothing. The more she listened, the more she was sure of the absolute quiet inside the building. The only noise came from outside, but even that was terribly muffled. It perhaps should not have been, due to the holes lining the building’s roof and letting some precious light in, but it was. Payapa dismissed her unease with the place and situation and scouted out a good hiding spot. Happily, there were many abandoned pieces of furniture. Tables, wardrobes, cabinets...
Wait. There were an awful lot of tracks all over the ground for a building she never saw anyone really enter or exit.
It was peculiar, she admitted, but she couldn’t figure out what it meant or what it might imply. So, of course, she reasoned that it must have been where other kids played. Even if some of the tracks were rather large.
A minute or two passed, and she realized she had been zoning out staring at the floor boards. If she didn’t haul her butt, she was going to be losing in a pitiful display, and quite soon. There was no way she wanted to live with that: an eternal stain on her perfect record of stealth in this so-called game. Hide-and-seek was a valuable life skill! She needed to be able to surprise her enemies! Or hide from them. Even as a child, she knew it was important to get good at camouflaging.
Finally, she settled upon hiding on the second story. She climbed up the wall with a tiny bit of effort with her terribly convenient lizard pads, and then did the same to reach the top of an antique-looking cabinet. It was very ornate, it seemed, though it was hard to tell in the poor lighting of nook she’d chosen. This particular cabinet’s top dropped a little, so that if Payapa had wished, she could lie down and not be seen at eye level with the top of her choice hiding spot. It hid her like a box might, but was very tall and hard to reach for most tiny Pokemon.
If nothing else, Payapa figured that Rionna would want to avoid looking in difficult places first. This would leave Rionna short on time after a while, and then, Payapa reasoned, Rionna would have to quickly check places that weren’t too terribly difficult to reach.
She became very glad that this building’s staircase was utterly collapsed, with the top of the staircase mostly seeming to float against the side of the wall. The leap up was probably at least 15 feet up, and Payapa simply did not think Rionna had it in her to make such a needless jump early on when there were plenty of other places to check first. They had a small boundary established, but it still contained many abandoned and dilapidated buildings in its perimeter. Furthermore, Payapa was also inclined to believe Rionna would think to check in an area above an old cabinet near the ceiling. There were even other tracks all about so that hers wouldn’t stick out! It was perfect. There was no way she could be caught, invisible or not. But, for good measure, she turned from purple to as invisible as a Kecleon could get.
And so she waited.
She let her mind wander to the previous week in the muggy silence above it all. Her father had taken another extended trip to that village he managed and had returned, angry and disgruntled. Again. This was not unusual, but it had caused tension in the household. Again.
Despite Alomomola being the bigger responsibility, their father was the head of everything in Tao. This was because of a pesky arrangement that had been set up by his great grandfather, Micle Nomel. Mr. Nomel had made some bad choices near the end of his life, and as a result, half of the village’s worth was owned by the family of some wealthy asshole cats out in Windswept Woods. They had a personal resort and villa, and came to own a large amount of both domestic and foreign land. Or, this is what Payapa often heard her father reiterate in anger. He was never really one to let it go. Apparently they just wouldn’t sell the other half of Tao to him for some cat-related reason (what did that even mean? She didn’t know), and something about their deed required their father to maintain the village perfectly without any help from them, or risk something-something, Payapa didn’t know. She stopped caring about the little details, only heard the bitter anger in his voice every time he’d returned from a trip and the topic was reignited.
“So why dontcha just not go there anymore?” she had asked one morning. She was getting uncomfortable with her dad’s grumblings. Continually her eyes darted toward the entryway door. Her honest intention was to spend the day building sand castles with her sister, away from the unease that threatened to crawl its way under everyone’s skin. She didn’t want any of that stuff. That was for adults.
Agave regarded her with harsh incredulity that the girl’s question hardly deserved. “What’re you, stupid? Ain’t givin’ that piece o’ land up. You know how nice it is? Central spot, easy to get to from just about everywhere on this miserable continent? Even if it don’t do much itself, it’s great for gettin stuff out here wit’ not much hassle. Learn you that now, girl. I ain’t repeatin it again.”
“Oh... well, can’t you get someone else to do it? Me ‘n Anana miss you somethin fierce when you’re all out all the time and stuff...” she said, telling a half truth. They mostly liked when he wasn’t being angry over things they didn’t understand, and that only really happened when he stayed at home without having to leave. Payapa was sure she missed her dad when he was gone, but often forgot that feeling after each of his returns. His good nature as a father seemed to have faded over the years as both children aged.
Agave opened his mouth after a little flaring of his tiny nostrils, and then
Rionna was staring Payapa in the face, peering from the side of the cabinet the Kecleon had erroneously chosen. She didn’t even know how to react. The whole thing didn’t make any sense, and it took several long moments before she realized she had been discovered. Namely, it was the moment where Rionna poked her with a single claw and spoke the dreaded words in a tiny whisper: “Found ya.”
This was impossible. Well, clearly not. This was just not right, regardless. How? It made no sense, it made absolutely none, and it was still not quite clicking in her head. Her mind flashed back to Chulo’s talk of Rionna and her cheating at hide-and-seek. Had she cheated? The lost pride of the Kecleon demanded that she find out how Rionna’s little feat had been accomplished. Settling for less was just not going to cut it.
Payapa’s blood started to boil, her head felt hot, and her words came out a little more like an angry bark. “How’d you know?”
Rionna looked startled. “Shush! We gotta get outta here. You picked a really bad spot. I didn’t even wanna get you...”
“Huh? I don’t wanna give you guys all that fruit anyway. You cheated, didn’t you? I don’t want to really play with you anymore, you guys are all cheaters. They told you where I went, didn’t they?”
Rionna’s expression darkened, became serious. “Come on. I don’t care about that. We can pretend I didn’t find you. Let’s get out of here before something bad goes on.” The Riolu didn’t wait for a response and simply dropped down out of Payapa’s sight. There was a tiny pitter-patter of feet as she distanced herself from the cabinet, but it was extremely quiet. Her paw pads must be soft, Payapa thought distractedly. Good for sneaking up on others.
She didn’t quite understand what that girl was going on about, but didn’t really find much use for sitting around in a spot exhausted of its worth. She climbed down (with less noise than Rionna had, she noted to herself), and followed her playmate to the precipice. It looked like Rionna was going to simply jump from the second story. Before Payapa could even ask, that’s precisely what happened. A soft thump was heard from below, and as she looked over the edge to see what had become of the victorious seeker, she simply saw Rionna silently motioning for Payapa to come down. She was still confusing the hell out of Payapa.
“Come on! What’s going on?” she shouted down below. Maybe she wasn’t ready to leave the building yet, after all. Maybe she wanted to know why Rionna was playing hush-hush, first.
Rionna’s hairs pricked up, and the funny little-big ear things on the side of her head quivered. “Stop!” she hoarsely whispered, “You’re gonna call them up! I’m not gonna be able to help you much if that happens!”
Indignant, Payapa continued to shout, though her sense of danger had slowly started to awaken itself. She wanted to defy Rionna, partly out of anger at having been found, and partly because she just wanted to do the opposite of what she’d been told. That latter bit had perhaps been partly inspired by her anger, and maybe partly by the little bit of ego that had been chipped off when she had lost her perfect record.
This frightened the Riolu girl off, leaving Payapa alone (save her big mouth; there was no ridding that). She stared down below and felt quite victorious. Well, she wanted to feel victorious, but there was a certain level of fear brewing beneath her little scales. Something that was working its way throughout her whole body. She wondered if a ghost was nearby, but then remembered that ghosts weren’t all that scary. This was a fear of something else. Something with a giant... presence. Something oppressive.
Payapa backed away from the drop and nearly stumbled backwards. Her tail uncurled and twitched erratically. Something was coming from below, she could hear each of the creaky steps reverberating throughout her tiny spine and all she wanted to do was simply get out, go, leave, before this giant pressure consumed her. It was wrong, bad, like a thousand disasters about to hit, that feeling in the very back of your mind like the whole world will never be right and everything is forever hopeless. It was incredibly unbearable, and she had to resist the urge to cry out in both surprise and sadness. It only was with tremendous effort that she crawled back over to and up the cabinet, the top of which had failed to hide her minutes earlier.
A gruff, androgynous voice spoke up.
“All right, you’ve proven yourself enough for now, kid. Let’s find some real tasks for ya.”
Payapa shivered at this. The voice’s owner was without a doubt the cause of the dreadful feeling saturating the atmosphere in the seemingly-abandoned building.
A second voice spoke up, one that sounded vaguely familiar... was it a playmate? Young, feminine...
“Yeh, I’m ready. Which places we hittin first?”
And then they were gone, had exited the building as quickly as Rionna had. Payapa exhaled loudly, then covered her mouth, as if scared her breath would reach the ears of the departed pair.
The sun had barely started to rise, painting everything in the siblings’ room a slightly golden hue. Later on, this lovely morning sun would inspire the color in one of the Kecleon pair, but that day had not yet come. She was still green, her sister purple.
There was some sort of commotion going on downstairs, stirring the green one from her sleep. She stared at the wall blankly, still dreaming of running around on the beach. Increasingly lately, she hadn’t gotten much of a chance to play with her sister after work. It had been very frustrating, and was a little disconcerting at the same time. She couldn’t quite put the feeling into words-- the limited playtime was starting to signal their transition into being young adults, though she wouldn’t have been able to connect that until years later. They weren’t quite there yet, but, like the sun, adulthood was rising up from the horizon quickly and threatening to engulf the sisters both before either could take notice.
The other sibling, still asleep, had kicked out in her sleep, getting the green one right at the base of the tail.
“Eeyyah! Watch it!” she hissed, despite the sound slumber of her assailant.
The other one stretched out, then sleepily asked: “Huh? What time is it?”
“I dunno. Probably time to get up from the looks of it. Let’s go make breakfast for mom and dad.”
“Hey... Heeey... Anana,” the purple one said, rolling over in their tiny, shared bed, partially ending up on top of her sister, “this morning I want some eggs and some juice and some... I dunno, we got anything good?”
“Eh, I don’t know. Mom hasn’t grabbed stuff from the warehouse yet, I don’t think, so we might not have a lot until later today. I know at least we have a few eggs, and I know dad will want some of those, so that’s really all that’s important.” Anana rolled too, but her destination was straight off the bed. She landed on her feet and started toward the door. She turned back when she noticed there was not, in fact, an additional set of steps to be heard.
“Kecky! Come on! I’m not dragging you out of bed, you’re too heavy to do that to anymore!”
This apparently offended slightly. “No, you’re just weak! I can drag you around just fine!”
“Yeah, well, you spend all day playing dumb games! Of course you’d be better at that stuff! Whatever...” Anana trailed off. She didn’t want to get caught up in a petty fight, not on her day off from helping her parents out. If at all possible, she planned to enjoy it playing games with her sister. “I can probably find you some juice, if you cook while I go look. But I’m not going to do it if you just sit in bed! No rewards for lazybutts.”
Anana thought her words reached out enough, but then a pillow mysteriously worked itself on top of her sister’s head and the grave error was revealed in assuming anything would easily touch the girl. Except... “Look, I’ll go grab your favorite juice from the store really quick. Really quick! But you need to do your part too! Come on. Out of bed. A Payapa for a Payapa!”
This was the magic set of words (or, rather, the thinly veiled bribery) that Miss Payapa had been waiting for, unlocking her capability to both sit up in bed and cooperate with Anana. “Really? So just cook the eggs? I can do that.”
So many pretty patterns on all of the eggs! If there was something she could appreciate, it was the colors. They all came in different sizes, different colors, but all were about the same basic shape. Rounded oval. It wouldn’t occur to her until later on that day that these eggs still might have had a chance at life, and that they had been rather expensive to obtain. So, she cracked each one open and onto the frying pan, tossing a plethora of rainbow shell pieces into the trash bin during her time at the stove. Save the plain, white eggs for her mother, every other egg had been a beauty.
It had actually been a pretty color of purple egg that had helped spark her decision of primary color. Most Kecleon did it a little later, but she had decided very early on that her color was purple. Her parents joked (but not really) that it meant she had a little of both of them in her: the swift temper from her father, and the sense of wonder at the world from her mother. Lately, she didn’t think her mother really had much wonder left in her, but she kept their little quip in the back of her mind regardless. It was easy to take what parents said for fact, even if it was sort of a non-serious comment.
Finally, all the eggs had been cooked, all the plates served. Normally they had some sort of fruit, and sometimes another source of protein, but not this morning. Well, if Anana got back in time, there’d at least be juice. “Dad! Come get your plate! Is Anana back yet?”
“No she ain’t, and hold yer Ponytas, I’m comin! Gimme a minute girl,” he shouted from... somewhere in the back room. She didn’t really care what he was up to, but did care that he ate his eggs before they got cold. She didn’t prefer another incident with a smashed plate because he came to his food late, forgetting it had been his fault the meal had turned cold.
“No! It’s hot ‘n ready now, Dad! Come on! I picked a cool egg!”
A few seconds later, he finally emerged. “Alright, alright... well, go wake yer mom. She’s sleepin in. As usual,” he snorted.
Payapa, who had already adjusted herself and her seat at the table, was loathe to go fetch her mother. However, the consequences of not doing so would be worse. The entire family’s day would become pretty terrible if she didn’t wake her mom up pronto. Still... she was really irritated that her own food had the chance of becoming cold. It ruined the enjoyment of the eggs! “But Dad, I--” was all she could muster before she got a lash to the face. She fought back warm tears, hardly realizing what had happened before her eyes reacted. She tentatively placed a hand to her stinging cheek, and averted her gaze from his harsh glare.
“Yes?”
“Dad, I just want to eat my eggs...”
“I betcha do. We’ll be havin a talk about that later, anyway. It’s about time. Go fetch your mother.”
She pawed at her cheek a little more, considering her options. She really just wanted to enjoy her breakfast at its best, but wasn’t sure she wanted to take a lashing to the bottom that morning for the sake of being defiant. It was a tough choice. Either way, she wasn’t going to get to eat warm eggs. Her mother was notoriously hard to wake from a deep slumber, and often seemed to use naps as a way to escape reality. Payapa’s heart sank a little, wondering what the rest of the day had in store.
Finally, after moments more of deliberation, she decided that today was not a day to stand up to her dad. On previous occasions, she had argued with him and ended up in trouble over the most mundane of things, taking lashings for refusing to apologize for the way she’d said this or that (and still never having apologized for such follies). As a tiny child, it was as if she couldn’t fathom why she might be asked to do these things, and was offended at the proposition. As she got older, she started to understand that sometimes you had to fake it in order to get along. Payapa thought her sister had picked up on this much earlier than she herself had.
So, for the rare chance of playing with Anana later that day, she had made the equally rare decision to swallow her pride. She scooted her chair out and hopped out of her seat without much enthusiasm.
Humming a little ditty she’d heard some customers singing the other day, Anana made her way along the path back to their house. It was hardly a long walk, but she had forgotten to bring any money to the little stall near their place, and thus had to assure the owners she would bring it later after breakfast. It would have taken too long to get it from their own warehouse; that was at least another ten minutes each way, and eggs did not take very long to cook. Oh well. She was in a relatively good mood.
Along the way, almost right before the corner you had to turn at to reach their home, was a furniture maker’s house. He had a very reflective window, the large kind used to display wares. So, of course, there were ornate pieces of furniture behind it. But what caught Anana’s attention was her reflection. Her pale green, with her deep, orange facial stripes...
Payapa had been right...
It really was kind of ugly.
She frowned a little, slowing enough to regard her unfavorable color for an extended period of time, and then picked up the pace once more. Maybe she would be able to decide a better color soon, but she just didn’t know what it was. Not yet.
All thoughts of could-bes left her head the moment she walked through the front door. The dead silence from the breakfast table was an immediate signal that something had happened during her brief absence. Some sort of fight. Anana frowned further. If this was a sign of things to come...
She took dainty steps to the kitchen, attempting to feign a happy mood, pretending to be oblivious to all that was wrong with the family picture. She had found that if you just acted like things were good, then sometimes others played along, and that was an acceptable substitute. It was certainly much more favorable than this detestable, horrendous silence, at least.
Anana kept humming the little tune. If she could just break through the nasty silence enough, things might become right. “Hi, guys! I got some fresh juice this morning! I thought it might be a little nicer than water, you know?” She poured one for each of them: four total, with a little more in the last cup for her sister. Anana took a moment to appreciate the pretty mauve fluid in its semi-transparency. The daylight was hitting the juice in a neat way from the kitchen’s window, and she welcomed the distraction. A certain shade of purple might have made a nice color for her, but her sister had already chosen that...
Well. There had to be another color, one for her. Or maybe she was just resigned to green.
Grabbing two of the cups, she walked to her mother and father, sitting wordlessly in front of their plates. Her father’s meal had been eaten already, but her mother’s sat untouched. The same was to be said for her sister’s... which was unusual. Payapa was known to like eggs. Anana became extremely uneasy.
She sat the cups down. “Here, Daddy! It should taste really good, it’s super fresh! And here you go, Mama.”
At the very least, her mother managed to speak up, albeit barely. “Thank you, dear.” There was clearly restless fatigue in her voice, and this worried Anana. A picture of what had happened started to form in her head, though she made a note to ask Payapa later for the details.
And then she took an actual look...
...and noticed that Payapa was sitting with her head down, staring listlessly at the table. Anana felt a little sick. She didn’t want to spend the whole day picking up the pieces of whatever conflict had exploded. She returned to the counter and grabbed the two remaining cups. If nothing else, she would at least show her sister she had kept her end of the bargain and gotten the favored drink.
Anana placed the fullest glass next to the untouched eggs of her sister. “Here you go, Sissy, here’s yours!” She considered adding in a remark about how it had better be enjoyed after all the effort she went through and all that jazz --a playful remark-- but decided that such a joke would make it incredibly obvious that she was trying to ignore the oppressive tension of the situation. So she simply took her own seat, instead.
Anana was halfway into her first bite when their father spoke up. “You both need to know about where eggs come from.”
She paused. Answering as sweetly as possible was key here. Maybe it would lessen his apparent anger at... well, Prosphora knew what. “What do you mean, Daddy?”
He spoke coldly. “I’m talkin about you two bein old enough, for, well, egg stuff. I got a list, and both of you are gonna memorize it. It’s a list of all yer compatibilities. I expect y’all both to know this by heart in the morn.” Anana noticed her sister fidgeting in the chair as soon as he started talking. She knew Payapa well enough to know memorization was not her favorite thing in the world, so Anana decided right then that she’d try to find a way to make it interesting for them both later that day.
“Yes, sir, Daddy. It sounds very important.”
He looked at her sternly, and then asked with suspicion: “Are you sassin me, girl?”
She was actually surprised at this. That wasn’t her thing; defiance was her sister’s thing! It bothered her that he would even suggest this, but she let it slide. He was obviously upset and his senses had slipped... “No... no, not at all! Egg stuff sounds very important, or you wouldn’t be telling us about it! You wouldn’t waste our time, Daddy...sir!”
He settled back into his chair, momentarily placated. “Alrighty then. Well first off, you girls know where eggs come from at all? Tell me now, honestly.”
Anana felt uncomfortable. She had a vague sense that it involved stuff parents did when they were alone, but that was about it. She had no clue if her sister knew more than that. “No, sir. I mean, I know they come from moms somehow, but...”
“Right.” He looked to Payapa. “And you?”
She fidgeted in her seat for a moment more before meekly replying. “Um... no, not really. I mean, ‘sides what Anana said...”
“Hmm. Well, you’re both at that age where boys are gonna want to get real close to you. I mean, really close. And if you get too close to the wrong boys, you get an egg. And then we got trouble because that boy is gonna try and mooch off of your mother ‘n me. And I hate moochers.” He took the first sip of juice of the four of them, and then continued on when he was well and ready. “So I’m gonna give both of y’all a list of types of boys you gotta keep your guard up around.
“And speakin of eggs, I know girls just naturally lay em sometimes. I do know somethin bout ladies, y’know. Y’all are both of that age too. But I can tell the difference between an egg with a baby waitin inside and one without. How? Well, it’s real easy. The types of eggs your mother eats each mornin? Those ain’t got a thing, they’re blank, duds. All white. Can one of y’all guess how you know there coulda been a baby, then?”
It didn’t immediately dawn upon Anana what the alternate type of egg was, since she wasn’t the usual cook in the morning. It did, however, immediately dawn upon her sister, who turned a rather pale shade of purple in an instant.
Payapa barely opened her mouth to utter a couple of words. “The colors...”
Their father smiled, though something almost sinister was visible beneath the surface. Or maybe that was just the lighting. “That’s right. The colored eggs coulda ended up as little baby ‘mons one day. Not anymore though. They ain’t gonna be more than a meal, now. Yer mother won’t eat em, you know her thing against meat, but you girls oughta been able to tell that the eggs we eat are always really tasty. Always a bit different from each other, too. That’s cause there are so many types of Pokemon. It’s hard to get these eggs, y’know? It’s sort of a... a secret market thing.
“But where was I? Oh, right. So don’t think I won’t know if there’s some egg you’re hidin from me after you got too close to a bad boy. I’ll know. But if you’re just sheddin a dud, that’s just life. Lots of girls do that. Tons of chicks at the ol’ ranch did that each ‘n every morn, and we’d fry em up just like yer sis did here.”
This inspired a new sense of horror in Anana, causing her to push her plate to the side. “So wait, we’re going to lay eggs too? And then someone’s going to... eat them?! That’s so gross... That’s so gross! Why?!”
“Well it’s a natural thing, but yeah, dud eggs are common and good eats. We won’t eat em, cause that’d kinda be like cannibalism or somethin, but we can sell em for a nice penny. Eggs are priced by rareness ‘n all that,” he explained. Anana felt rather ill looking at the cold eggs she’d started to nibble. She wasn’t sure she could stomach them anymore. It was basically like she’d bitten into a pair of babies... and this made her want to vomit.
“Daddy... sir?” she asked.
“What is it, girly?” Firm, but caring undertones. Whatever terrible Pokemon she had thought was present earlier had faded in an instant, and he was her daddy again. Not the mean one who seemed to like divulging horrible secrets that chipped away at her childhood.
“Can I-- may I be excused? I’m not very hungry this morning.”
“Sure thing. I’m gonna give your mother the list later, and both you best make sure to mind me. Memorize it well.” He looked from Anana to his other daughter. “You too. Especially you.”
Anana excused herself quickly and ran to her shared bedroom, where she decided what toys, if any, she wanted to bring to the beach in an unsuccessful effort to get that breakfast conversation out of her mind.
“Oh, no... no no, please do put that with the other-- no, not there! Ah, just give it over, please. Let me place it.”
Malt looked at his stand-in boss dubiously. PK had been pretty explicit about a lot of commands while Shroomsworth was out on his extended leave (to put it mildly, but not entirely accurately), and here he was, directing Malt to run the place much differently. Malt wasn’t even entirely sure that Shroomsworth should have been allowed to do this at all, but it was a welcome burden relieved from his own shoulders. He did wonder, though, how they ever reconciled these differences while running it together, but placed that curiosity to the side for the time being.
“Well, that’s not where PK ever wanted--”
Shroomsworth stood up stiff, and his face both darkened and hardened. He spoke sharply in return. “And she’s not here at the moment, now is she?”
Malt flinched, and after a moment of scrupulation from Shroomsworth, he relaxed just enough to look at Malt wearily. It clearly was not his intent to snap over something so trivial as the placement of a berry that wasn’t particularly known for being alluring to shoppers. And yet, he had snapped.
“Well, no matter,” Shroomsworth quietly spoke to himself. “When she... returns, we’ll discuss it together. That’s what we’ll do,” he affirmed. Malt didn’t hear the confidence he desired in his boss’s feeble assurance, but it would have to do. It was really all either of them had.
They worked on in near-silence for the better part of half an hour, tidying and organizing to the best of their ability. When something Malt was doing conflicted with something Shroomsworth was trying to do, Shroomsworth was the one to wordlessly concede and start on another task. Eventually Malt went upstairs to fetch something, and in this window of time--despite that it was yet another half hour ‘til the shop was supposed to be open to any non-Merchant--someone unfamiliar to Shroomsworth had shown up at the front entrance and was demanding to be let in. The drapes were pulled quite taut and he didn’t really want to untie them if the shop wasn’t even supposed to be open yet.
Shroomsworth considered ignoring the fellow, and then outright decided to tune him out. His night watch had left out the back shortly after he and Malt had woken up and started their morning tasks. Any actual Merchant would have known to show up or exit from the rear door, where Callahan’s portion of the hut lay. This stopped most Merchants from showing up before anyone important wanted them about, as no one ever liked dealing with the guild registrar if they could find a way to avoid it (which they usually did).
Shroomsworth was in the middle of preparing the cash register while daydreaming about giving Callahan a swift punch to the jaw when something about the atmosphere struck him as wrong. He had trouble placing what, exactly, wasn’t right about the air, when a horrible, nasty ripping sound made his spine tingle with the odd mixture of dread and annoyance. The heavy fabric being torn immediately illuminated what had unnerved him moments prior; his unwanted guest had gone deathly silent after a few minutes of protest, and Shroomsworth hadn’t quite noticed until it was too late. He was simply that good at tuning others out when he so desired.
He immediately dashed toward the front entrance. Claws! Really, now. Using claws to shred the drapes! It especially irked him, as Chrys had been asked to make an extremely heavy-duty set of cloths, and here, now, they were so easily rendered scraps? That Chrys was going to receive a talking-to! Right after this impatient customer, of course.
Before he had fully made the stride across the store, the draperies’ assailant sauntered through the entrance. And behind, presumably a friend. Shroomsworth recognized the smaller one’s species, as there were several on many of the teams around Tao. It was a Meowth, but did not look to be any from a team he recognized. It did wear a black bowtie, but there looked to be a shiny, golden orb in its center. He presumed gold as fake as the headpiece it wore, most likely. The bigger of the two wore an ascot the same color as the bowtie. He wasn’t entirely sure what its species was, but presumed it to be related to the Meowth. An evolution, perhaps? Neither looked exceedingly dangerous, in any case. Even if they were, he and Malt would take care of them in an instant.
But first, it was time to discuss compensation for the costly fabric. He pursed his lips into a faux-friendly smile before speaking curtly. “I assume,” he said, motioning back to the curtains, “that you’ll have the money to me for those soon, then?”
The larger one seemed momentarily confused. It cast half a glance to the shred sheets before deciding it was hardly even worth the effort. “And who are you? I wish to speak to speak to Payapa.” Before receiving any sort of response, and indeed without even appearing to wait for a confirmation at all, the pair headed toward the staircase to the bedrooms.
Shroomsworth was taken aback. Mostly, he was dumbfounded by how thoroughly this fellow was dismissing him. He made a single leap to block their ascension. “Excuse me? This is the upper floor, where the private bedrooms-”
Thoroughly disgusted at this minor impediment, the bigger cat glowered at this monocled barrier before impatiently brushing him off. “Yes, yes, I know. Are you a new hire? If you do not move, I cannot assure you you’ll remain under employment for much longer. Now, move.”
Shroomsworth was still having trouble adjusting to the haughtiness of this cat, but he took a moment to breathe and regain his composure. Something about this was really, extraordinarily familiar. He had dealt with many customers full of themselves before, but this particular Pokemon took it to a new level.
Shroomsworth held back his aggravation and attempted to get a handle on the best thing to say in this situation. He could be upset over this later, but not now. “May I please ask for your name then, sir?”
More repulsion. The larger cat’s tail started to flick from side to side. It was eerily similar to what PK’s own tail did while provoked. He answered, but not without an air of condescendence. “You must be new. So ill-informed. But, I’ll grace you with knowledge, regardless. I am Twigs. And though you did not ask it, this is my brother-in-law, Styx. Now, move. I hate to waste breath.”
Twigs made to walk past Shroomsworth and up the steps, but the Merchant would have none of it. Another swift block, brushing against his whiskers.
Twigs... that was...
Ah!
“Hold on a right second! Are you from the woods? Ah, I mean, Windswept Woods? Are you the... the villa owner?”
Twigs’s agitation was dampened with Shroomsworth’s recollection. “I am. It appears you are slightly less ill-informed than you first appeared. Now, if you would move, I have business with my dear Payapa.”
Shroomsworth swayed his hips to once again block the cat off from the upper floor. Finally, it was coming back to him. This fellow was exactly the same in written format as he was in reality; it was no wonder he was so immediately familiar. Still... wait, what? His dear Payapa?
How was this to be approached? He wasn’t sure. At the very least, he had to feign respect, for Twigs had been a rich client early on in Shroomsworth’s history of corresponding in lieu of PK. “Er... well, the good madam is out right now. I respectfully ask that you return at a later date.” He wished badly that there was a way to avoid talking about the Tao crisis, and hoped Twigs would comply.
Of course, as anyone could guess, Twigs did not. “No. I wish to see her now. Are you hiding her? Where has she gone?”
“She’s out, as I’ve told you. I know not where. She... didn’t tell anyone before going, you must understand.” This was an extremely uncomfortable subject for Shroomsworth, but he did his best to answer honestly. Well... it was all factually correct at least, even if not the whole truth.
Displeased, Twigs crouched down and wiggled his rump. Shroomsworth immediately tensed, prepared for an attack, when Twigs sailed right over his head and landed up a dozen steps or so. Shroomsworth whipped around to see the cat sprinting to the top and down the hallway.
“Oh, for the love of...”
Before that thought could be finished, he heard the very particular, very piercing sound of glass shards exploding. He raised a pair of claws to his face and wrung his cheek in an exasperated motion. Wondering if a troublemaker snuck in while he was dealing with his finicky client, he hopped around the corner to confront the source of the broken goods. He discovered he was half right: it was indeed a troublemaker that had taken advantage of the gap in Shroomsworth’s attention a minute or so before, but no sneaking was required.
It was simply Styx. He held another mirror in his paws, of the same variety as the shattered one now on the ground, and smiled vacantly. He loosened his grip and dropped this second one straight down. Shroomsworth felt himself turn a little paler; these were expensive! Handcrafted! Particular design around the edges! And, what? Just because his brother was rich, this little fool thought he could do as he pleased?
Shroomsworth’s patience was being drained much more rapidly than the brothers’ deficit was adding up. “Stop that, this instant! You are ruining perfectly good wares, and I shall have you removed at once!”
The Meowth continued its little smirk, empty of any real emotion, and crouched down. Shroomsworth leaned forward to grab him before any more profit could be sacrificed (for who knew if Twigs would really pay?), but Styx had fooled him in the same manner as Twigs. He made a very large leap up to a shelf reserved for boxes of overstock. Hardly being the most adept of climbers or jumpers, one of the boxes was knocked over in his wake.
What sounded like a few dozen glass items shattering at once could be heard as the box hit the ground, spilling shards and a rich, purple goo in a single wave outward.
Shroomsworth made a sort of little squeak that was the byproduct of extreme anger and disbelief, and wet his lips, getting ready to yell. Simply incredible.
In this situation, with a cat racing along the tops of the shelves, Shroomsworth found himself not knowing how to proceed. Dashing after the cat would result in more broken goods, undoubtedly. So, what was there to be done?
In the middle of a crazy leap from one shelf to the next, Styx was yelling, “I saw him go outta the mirror, nyeh heh!” He zoomed behind the boxed goods and made another leap of faith, during which he spoke his nonsense once more. “He went back to his castle where he rules the plebes, nyehah!”
Shroomsworth saw his opportunity in these leaps. He had to wait for a pattern in the Meowth’s seemingly-erratic laps, and catch him up during one of these jumps. If he could do that, Styx would be his.
He followed Styx with his eyes, moved carefully into place. If there was something Shroomsworth was adept at, it was seeing a pattern in what looked to be a random set of movements.
“He’s gotta wear his crown until it gets broke, but he can’t do it himself, nyehehe! He told me so himself, and so did his friends.”
Another crash from a box thrust from the shelf thanks to the tiny cat’s momentum. Almost, though. Styx was almost assured to make a flying jump from the left to the second shelf behind him... it was in his body language, in the crazed look contorting that face otherwise devoid of emotion.
The leap was made, as foreseen, and Styx was plucked midair by a perfect stretch of the arms. Shroomsworth had caught his quarry.
Right in time for Malt to gaze below, confused, from the railing above. “Hey... what’s going on?”