“Really now….Out of all the time we spent together, you 'miraculously' remember you know them, know of my past? Nuh-Uh, I tried to leave on good terms, to keep everyone’s image in my heart before I go, to end this story on a happy note, but nope. This shit just has to happen….
What next? You're going to tell me you’re my uncle? Or better yet, you happen to be one of my brothers?”
Pink could do little more than stand there, staring open-mouthed as Typhus poured his heart out. Surprised at the depth and intensity of the youngster’s thoughts, not to mention the increasingly strengthening dash of anger clinging to his words, the Espeon soon found himself frowning. End the story?
Half of it didn’t make sense, either that or the scraggly feline was too dim to grasp such philosophical concepts that seemed to have ensnared his sibling. He’d thought talk of family would be the trump card, but he seemed sadly mistaken. Something had happened to Typhus that he was now helpless to change.“Uh…”
He was speechless, uncomfortable even, as he watched the youth in a whole new light. “That’s… that’s ludicrous, kid,”
It was a big word for Mr. Pink, used awkwardly after a few seconds of silence shared. He managed a weak, lopsided smile in a vain bid to make light of the situation, accompanied with a short, nasally chuckle.“Fuck it, I’m tired, and I just....I want this all to end, where are those zombie clefairy when you need them….”
Catching the Eevee’s darker ramblings, Pink abandoned his confusion as a more serious expression overcame him. “What?”
He repeated aloud, the demand akin to a parent’s scolding. Eyes narrowed as Ty turned from him, the creature’s intentions to pursue death had finally pieced together in his frazzled mind. Thoroughly appalled by the idea of suicide, particularly when it came to a kid he did
give two shits about, the Espeon stormed forward with new purpose.
He slipped in front of the normal-type, effectively blocking his path with his own, scruffy form. “What’re you saying?”
There was a rare intensity in the question, which he struggled to shake away. “You don’t mean… Surely?”
Half-disbelieving, he looked away and took a deep breath, unfamiliar with the fear suddenly coursing through his veins. “Ty, please. I really did know your family and I know they’re still out there, somewhere. And you just wanna… off yourself? For what? What the fuck’s happened to you, kid?”
Charlie sighed, looking down disappointedly. “What would your dad say?”
--"I dunno. I've been tagging along since I found them in the caves. I think he leads-- But the Eevee's kinda taken a turn toward 'Emo Little Git'. I don't know what the hell's going on."
Garland smiled along as Ripley explained the situation, giving a quieted laugh at her choice of vocabulary. Granted, the youngster hadn’t seem particularly cheery when he’d passed but maybe ‘Emo Little Git’ was a slight exaggeration. Extending his slender neck, he strained to catch glimpse of the duo in the distance, surprised at the usually aloof Pink’s close proximity. Last time the avian had checked, his colleague hadn’t been one for friendship, loyalty a foreign word and yet, this was a true anomaly in his record. He shuffled on the spot, watching the pair a moment in amused curiosity before turning as the unlikely leader, the eccentric mantis, spoke."We should follow them! However... Maybe we should go up quietly, and slowly. Let them do their thing.”
The Swanna smiled at Pro-B’s consideration for the duo. Although the insect’s approach was significantly gentler than his own, the avian wasn’t going to argue quite yet. He was a newcomer amongst this group and thought it only appropriate to respect the leader’s orders. Restraint would
be taken. Garland would instead resist the urge to send a Water Pulse their way, although a quick shower never hurt anyone. In fact, it would probably do Charlie-boy good.“Of course,”
He responded graciously, though the words came tinted with a natural sarcasm. “Lead the way. If they’re not finished bickering by the time I reach them, I’ll make sure there’s no more arguing,”
Garland smiled, giving a light chuckle as he motioned for Pro-B and Ripley to go on ahead. He would follow a few paces behind.
(( EDIT. I was given permission to carry out the harbinger attack on Roxy the Zangoose. ))
However, Garland’s initial intentions at hanging back were soon jeopardised by a shadowy figure lurking nearby. Approaching the bickering canines, the Swanna’s pace had quickened to overtake his company despite his better intentions and yet he paid them no mind. His attention was wholly ensnared by the dark silhouette apparently stalking Pink and his new friend, the creature’s aloofness enough evidence for the bird of its sinister intentions. Garland had spent enough time in the darkness himself to know that those who chose to habit it were little more than monsters. There was no doubt in his mind that this stranger was trouble.
The desire to protect and help these new survivors, Garland had glided swiftly past Pink and Short-Stuff, two strong beats of his wings soon propelling him directly towards the lurking stranger. The bird’s talons made contact with the Zangoose’s chest, gripping the fur as his body weight slammed the unsuspecting female into the wall. Her cry of shock was abruptly silenced by a sickening crack as her delicate body collided with the jagged surface, the Swanna pinning the surprisingly limp creature to the wall with an outstretched wing.“What do you – “
Garland stopped himself. The Zangoose wasn’t moving; her eyes still locked open in terror despite the unnatural drooping of her head. There was a new wound at the back of her neck, the rocky surface behind her now slicked with the same rich, oozing blood that had formed streaks over her lifeless face. Garland knew she was dead.
He should have felt burning guilt, an utter detestation at the murder he’d just committed, but Garland was numb. He gave a disappointed sigh, dipping his head in a silent apology for the accidental loss life. Allowing the corpse to drop to the ground, wing recoiling close to his body, Garland could see now that it had been a matter of unfortunate circumstance to end her life. The blood-smeared wall was jutting out with sharp, jagged points – the back of the female’s head littered with fresh wounds alongside the unsightly aftermath of a snapped neck.
The Swanna was hardly conscious of the fact he had an audience. His oceanic gaze torn away from the murder scene, Garland turned, composed, to the rest of the group. Whilst the bird had never been ashamed of his capacity to kill, his illicit occupation and an indifference to his victims’ plight, Garland was quietly hurting. He’d made Vito a promise; a promise to change his ways and to abandon such cruel pastimes in favour of life as a Good Samaritan. He had already failed.“I’m sorry,”
He addressed the group, yet spoke only to the Houndoom he’d let down. Shuffling on the spot, Garland simply began trudging away. There was nothing more to be said. They hadn’t known the Zangoose, clueless to her motives or reasons for such misleading behaviour and so now came the time to simply move on.