A Long Awaited Reunion

Douglas adjusted his hat. He still felt so lost with his quest. He was no closer to paying back his favour than he had been since he had first arrived in Grassvile. He didn’t even know who he was paying back yet. He groaned and lent against the post opposite the guild. He needed money for information; his current tactic had yielded little. In fact, he had only lost money and positions for his pains.

The sandshrew grimaced at his circumstance. He hated the idea of what he thought he might have to do. He needed to join the guild and make a living. Then spend that money on setting his feelers out. He felt so inadequate.

“If Ah had just kept that mask...”

He slide down the post, sitting sullenly with his backpack between his legs.

Arceus be damned. He could and most likely already had used every single curse word in the book at this point. With each step, there was a clink! of coinage, causing another unwanted detour. If he had a Poke every time he had to stop and begin pushing his 'companion' away, there wouldn't be any reason for him to continue taking missions. He'd be loaded and set for generations to come. There just wasn't an end to the ridiculous distractions found everywhere, and of all the places he had to be given the task of dragging around a pokemon with the mentality and attention span of a toddler, it just had to be in a bustling town. He swore under his breath, already feeling his injuries begin to ache once more. He mentally noted to himself to request for an Oran Berry from the cook later on.

"Nearly there!" He said triumphantly, the Croagunk in tow. He kept a firm grip on the poison type's arm, not caring whether he would mind. If he let go now, the guy would just run off and drool on some poor passerby's pockets. Even after dawdling for nearly an hour, he still didn't know what to make of this pokemon. The near-obsession he had with money was enough to put off the explorer, but surely not everything he lived for was a few mere coins, right? The scraggy had known plenty of greedy pokemon, but none with such enthusiasm and lack of shame.

The reptile started to feel doubtful. He didn't know if it was a good idea to bring this... kind of pokemon in the guild. Would the Croagunk be able to uphold the expectations? The responsibilities? The honor? He couldn't be sure, and to be honest, it seemed as though the possibilities were leaning more on the negative side. Would he be setting the guild for another failure? He gulped, not liking the idea. He couldn't just leave this guy, especially after he asked for help. It was the scraggy's job to assist citizens and the like, and even if they were badly behaved he was still obliged to do so. He inwardly sighed, deciding that he didn't have a choice in the matter. Either way, surely the Guild master would just turn the Croagunk down if she knew that he'd only cause trouble.

Finally, they were within the area of the Guild's building. The sight of the familiar structure put Mordred at ease, lifting him some of the stress and worry that had been piling upon him since he left. In there, he wouldn't have to deal with any more unfamiliar pokemon. There were only heroes, heroes-in-the-making, and a welcoming community that could tolerate even the likes of him. The past few months since he'd arrived and joined were some of the most pleasant ones he'd had since leaving his clan. It was one of the only places he could relax and he treated it as though it were his home. Now if only he wasn't bringing this tactless moron over, then he'd be up in high heaven right now.

He stopped, spotting something near the guild's entrance. It seemed to be around his height, but was shaped much more bulbous than he was, though kept a similar yellow color. Some sort of design was etched onto the surface and the figure was wearing a hat. Wait, where had he seen that hat? The scraggy squinted, trying to recover the memory that eluded him.  His eyes widened, finally recalling who exactly this newcomer was.

"Is that..." He began walking towards the Sandshrew, a grin spreading on his face as he came closer to the familiar pokemon. "Doug! I can't believe you're here! Are you going to join the guild?" He asked, wondering why the ground type was waiting outside.

He seemed... down. "You alright?" The reptile asked, "You don't look so good." He leaned forward, offering a hand to the sitting pokemon.

"Ohh, a coin!" Nixon yelled excitedly, taking a sharp and abrupt left turn between some stalls to follow this Ratata. But he lost the trail, and now waited eagerly for the Scraggy he was tugging along to guide him.

This would go on for an hour, until they would finally get to the guild. "I'm so excited!" Nixon jumped up and down, his grip tightening with each jump on his guide's arm. Thinking of all the rewards, Nixon closed his eyes, grinning to himself. In his little daydream, he thought of swimming in an endless river of Poké, with heavenly bells ringing, Arceus looking down at him, and millions of the Pokémon he's helped screaming his name!

That was a good dream.

But now, it's time to get to that guild!

But wait!

His guide had somehow escaped his grasp, and walked towards this Sanshrew with a hat. Maybe they were friends? Huh.

Nixon wasn't exactly a 'social butterfly'. In fact, he had no actual friends at all. Watching the two interact, he crossed his arms, brows knitted in thought. 'What is he doing!? He might get himself killed, trusting somebody like that!' his instincts screamed. But wasn't the thing he did with the Scraggy 'trust'?

He DID ask to be guided the guild, and there they were. In front of the guild.

He shouldn't, really. After all this, he'd cut off ALL ties with them.

Not really all, but he can say hi and such.

But no more than that. He'll go through all of it alone, like he's always had. It's been like that for a while now.

The treasure hunter was lost in thought. The hat had sunk low over his eyes and his arms were despairingly limp by his sides. The sun burned orange in the western sky, igniting the clouds with dwindling orange light.

When he had lost his mask, worth a fortune by anyone’s standards, it had been in a place the sun had not touched in years. Deep in the obsidian caves, the adventurer has lost his prize to poor luck, 3 sableye and a folly of a partnership not even worth a name. The “compassionate” moron had even managed to convince Douglas to spare one of the aggressive sableye, allowing it an opportunity for their food stores to be stolen.

“Urrrgh... Forsaken Scraggy...” His mouth filled with a bitter taste.

The very thought of it irritated Douglas beyond reprieve. The two had stuck a deal. But, as Douglas should have no doubt expected, the weenie of a pokémon fled as soon as he was guided out of the cave.

“Typical...” The sandshrew fretted over his poor luck as he removed a bitter root from his pack, nibbling at it in a half hearted fashion. He sat motionless, listening to the sound of his own grinding molars.

“Doug!”

The treasure hunter flinched at his own name. He hated anybody knowing his name, even more those who shortened it. And there was only one Pokémon still alive who persisted in shortening the adventurer’s name.


“Great Balls O’ Fire... Speak of the Darkri..."

The scraggy rushed up to meet him, gleefully ignorant of the sour mood of his acquaintance, and also seeming to forget the terms they left on. Douglas’ ears followed the sound of the footsteps, waiting until the fighter stopped in front of the ground type. Face shielded by the large brimmed hat, the smirk of vindictive happiness went unnoticed by his compatriot.

“Mordered...” The adventurer took the offered hand, pulling himself up. The two stood a moment, the smirk reappearing on Douglas’ lips before he swung a heavy digging paw into the jaw of the fighter type.

Morde grunted with surprise at the blindside, feeling the arm of the sandshrew catch him in the lower abdomen. This had the affect of knocking the wind out of his lungs as he was swung around, switching places with the armadillo and winding up against the pole at which the disgruntled brute had be resting.

“Mordered indeed!” Douglas beamed, laughing heartily. “You really are none too bright, are ya? Don’t you remember how ya much ya owe me? The deal? You think Ah’d be happy ta see you?”

Douglas didn’t turn from his prey. “Mr. Crogunk... Would you be so kind as ta explain yer agreement with this fool? Ah would assume ya just met.”


[wow]Test[/wow]

As the scraggy put out his hand to take the sandmouse's, he noticed the slightest of smiles on the other's face. Was he glad to see him? The reptile didn't know why, but his gut was telling him that he was wrong. He had forgotten something. It was as though a large chunk of his memory concerning the Sandshrew was missing, and it was irritating beyond belief. There was something off... as though they both weren't supposed to be fine and dandy. To make it worse, it felt as though it was mostly his own fault.

He pulled up the Sandshrew from the post, putting on a friendly smile in spite of his uneasiness. "So hey, wha-" Quicker than he could process, the scraggy found himself getting socked in the midsection - hard. For a second, he didn't feel the impact, only to be thrown into a cesspool of pain and emotion as he realized what was going on. And just as quick as the punch came, his clarity of mind faded into disarray. As he felt the air in him rapidly escape, his dizziness grew to the point he could barely keep track of what was happening around him. He felt his body be roughly moved, throwing him onto the pole he had helped the sandshrew off of.

As he leaned against the post, the scraggy struggled to gather his bearings. Between the numbing pain and having his head collide with the hard pole, he couldn't tell which was the true culprit of his sudden daze. His sight became unstable, turning everything into a brief spiral of colors and blurring faces. He could hear better in comparison, but it was still difficult to absorb what was being said to him, even with the proximity. It seemed as though the sandshrew was laughing, rambling on about brightness and debts and some sort of deal. It didn't take a genius to figure out that his so-called 'acquaintance' wasn't too joyful about their reunion. "Ugh... I..." He groaned, not exactly in the state to deal with this behavior. His injuries were aching again, made even worse by the blow as well as the impact he had with the post. What was with him and getting hurt today? It was almost as though he was the main punchbag for everyone he tried to interact with.

He blinked several times, attempting to recover his vision. The pool of hues and rough shapes soon transitioned into more perceptible figures, allowing him to get a better look at the sandshrew he dared to call his ally. His puzzled, distant expression turned into that of realization before finally settling on anger. "DEAL? What deal? And what in the gods' names was that for?!" He growled, glaring daggers at the mouse before him.

It hit him like a brick. The Obsidian Crevice. The Sableye. The mask. It was as though a switch had been flipped, flooding the reptile with memories he had left behind. He left this guy behind with that crook of an imp, instead having favored escape. Looking back on it, he'd assumed from the start that there was no possibility they could take that item back. The location was the enemy's turf, and they were only two pokemon. Fighting against those Sableye would've been suicide, but that still didn't excuse him for his cowardice. Upon having this information return, his face slackened. The hateful stare he held turned into that of disbelief, leaving him with his mouth hanging like a moron. How could he have done something so foolish?

"Oh... That deal..." He finally uttered. "L-look, I'm sorry, alright? It seemed hopeless to get that mask back from those Sableye, especially in their own territory. So I just..." Explanation and reasoning would be pointless. He knew it, and he was already steeling himself for whatever the Sandshrew would spit (or hit) back at him.

He briefly looked past Douglas, paying attention to the poison type he had escorted earlier. His eyes seemed to cry for help, but the likely chance that the Croagunk would actually do anything was dreadfully low. He only hoped that the guy wouldn't make the situation worse by saying or doing anything stupid. Oh, who was he kidding? That would be exactly what that pokemon would do, considering his behavior and Mordred's luck.

Nixon just watched the scene with a mix of surprise and curiosity on his face. Well, he did indeed like a good fight between two Pokemon.

Preferably if he weren't a participant however. But, before he'd be able to enjoy himself further, some other Pokemon walked past again.

Chink! Chink! Chink! went the Poke coins.

Nixon turned his head towards the sound, grinning maliciously, and his hands dangerously creeping closer and closer to the Pokemon's purse....

“Mr. Crogunk... Would you be so kind as ta explain yer agreement with this fool? Ah would assume ya just met.”

He stopped in his tracks, and nearly fell forward on his face. "Wha...?  With what? Yeah, we just met... But... what?" Confused, he wrinkled his brows, scratching his chin in thought. Agreement... Agreement... What agreement? "The guild, was it...?"

He had no clue.

What he DOES know is that that Pokemon who passed by was gone, and it was all the Sandscrew--

Sandshrew's fault! "Look, ah don't know yer deal, but MAH POKE IS GONE." Nixon grit his teeth, mocking the newcomer's accent while stomping his feet in annoyance. He didn't care about the Scraggy and the Sandscre-- Sandshrew's argument. All he cared for was that he's losing money. And he needs it, now.

"Look. Are we going in the guild, or not? Because honestly, you two can just go on ahead and, I dunno, make out in the corner. You lovers need to stop arguing right now, because I. NEED. MONEY."

If the two would go and take their argument elsewhere, Nixon would whine, and drag Mordred back. But if they'd both proceed inside, then Nixon would exhale in relief, while rolling his eyes and crossing his arms muttering, "Finally."

Douglas sighed at the poison type's stutterings. It would be typical that the pokemon was less than sharp. He shook his head as the Croagunk attempted to remember seemingly anything at all.

"By the gods, Mordered... 'e is a keeper, aye?"

The joking smile faded, however and the treasure hunter visibly bristled at the shoddy imitation of his accent. He had been around a while and no one had ever had the audacity to do such a thing. With the many mixed cultures and personalities in the world, such oddities were rarely questioned, let alone mocked. The sandmouse's eyes darkened and his grip on the poor fighter type tightened in his rage. The thought of assaulting both Morde and then the new comer crossed his mind at separate intervals. Both would make him feel good, but they would lose he chance at respective revenge on the other. He had to nail down the scraggy somewhat before he dealt with the childish poison type, who now appeared to be stamping his feet like a small phanphy in frustration.

When the three fingered biped spoke about joining the guild, an idea alit upon the sandshrew's mind. He felt a mild grin coming and swallowed it, it hardly showing on his face. He could use this.

"Ah don't give a blazin' damn 'bout yer poké." The sandshrew bit back at the Croagunk, turning to face Mordered again. "Alright, old one eyed Pete. We gonna be joining this Acreius forsaken 'establishment' taday. Let's go inside, and we'd better bring yer simple minded friend, Ah doubt his mind is strong enough in fortitude to be out on it's lonesome. Is this agreeable?"

Without waiting for and answer, Douglas spun morde away from the pole and marched him up to the entrance way. "Ahfter all, this was yer plan..."

He tipped his hat to the irritating poison type. "Douglas. Ah can't wait ta get ta know you." He rolled his eyes. "Yer comin' too. We all gots ta make coin."