Chapter 43 – Day 16, Part 3: The High Notes

Chapter 43: Day 16, Part 3 – The High Notes

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Marigold.”

That was ominous coming from Anemone of all pokemon. If anything, Marigold was far from quiet, especially within her own mind.

Marigold straightened herself quickly, locking eyes with the Gardevoir. “Very, very sorry,” said the Primarina. “I was a bit lost in thought.”

The face Anemone made in response was almost comical in how incredulous it was. But before she could speak, she was swiftly interrupted by her ghostly adversary.

“Now now, Anemone,” Calluna chided, “if Marigold has something to say, she’ll say it. We agreed on that, did we not?”

That they did. Anemone’s face twisted with recollection—as before this meeting the three matriarchs had decided that only spoken words would be commented on. This was to be an important meeting that required thoughtful planning and thorough discussion. Jumping to conclusions would only lead to arguments.

Marigold nodded. “I just need a bit more time to-“

“Yes, yes, I understand,” Anemone spoke up, raising her arms in resignation. “We would be going a lot faster without this rule, but I’m trying to be fair. Just remember that.”

Looking off at the massive stained glass windows within the throne room and the morning light shining through, Marigold could not help but wonder why it was that Anemone found this stipulation to be so controversial. She had thought that it would be a breath of fresh air, to speak with others as most pokemon often did. But the opposite could not be more true.

Thinking about others while they were listening was quite rude, however.

Perhaps we could talk about this more in private later, darling. I am curious.

Anemone’s sole response was a scowl of contempt, piercing past the Primarina’s well-meaning smile straight to her psyche. Through complete accident and goodwill, Anemone was set very plainly on edge. She was angry, and it showed through her furrowed eyebrows.

Marigold let out a sigh.

“Now, as I was saying,” Calluna continued, “you’re overreacting, Anemone.” The Mismagius floated to the back of Anemone’s desk, her cloth-like tassels dragging across the scattered papers and documents. “I can see why you would think that Bulu’s gem is in jeopardy, but Ganlon Mine was heavily guarded even before we increased its security. It’s held fast so far, even after recent attempts by vandals, so I fail to see what is so concerning.”

Steam unevenly billowed from a ceramic cup Anemone held between her fingers. Before she elected to respond to Calluna, Anemone lifted the cup by the saucer up to her mouth. She took a brief yet loud sip, then smacked her lips.

“Oh yes,” she said, “the theft of valuable artifacts that could spell the collapse of everything I have established is not concerning, but your tourist trap losing money is.” Anemone set the saucer on the desk with a shrill clink. “Enough with this hand waving nonsense—don’t undermine me, Calluna.”

The Mismagius scoffed derisively. “Undermine you? Anemone, please, listen to yourself. I had that festival planned for months—considerably too long to cancel on such short notice. Meticulously allocated funds, thousands of resources set and ready, perfectly aligned to generate a profit. And you, at the last minute, claim that I am to accommodate a problem you choose not to solve on your own, claiming my role is less important…”

A blink and they were face-to-face, inches apart, sharing glares. Marigold held her breath.

“I see that as nothing less than insulting.”

Marigold’s breath hitched as she watched the two of them wait for the other’s next move, unsure of what either of them were thinking. Their faces were scrunched up into aggravated scowls only two experienced leaders could produce. Neither would let up easily.

One thing was for certain, though, these disagreements and tense moments had only become more prevalent over the course of the past few weeks. There was not a simple, elegant meeting between them since, well…

It didn’t matter; Marigold needed to stop this. Nothing would be accomplished if their goal was to one-up each other at every juncture. This meeting was going to be productive if it was the last thing she pined for.

The Primarina held up her flippers cautiously, attempting to be as disarming as possible. “Please, let’s not fight!” she pleaded. “Anemone, I understand this is important to you, but there is only so much each of us can do. And Calluna, these things happen. There are ways to make up for these losses, I assume?”

Anemone swung her head in Marigold’s direction, her eyes wide with indignation. “She never would have experienced those losses in the first place if she had waited another month! Maybe just a few weeks, even! But no,” she turned back to Calluna, taking a step back, flicking her arm upward at the ghost, “she’s so inflexible that a small gap in her plans was all it took!”

“Ho-ho-ho!” Calluna’s form seemed to radiate with a dark mist while her tassels swayed at the behest of a nonexistent wind. “You wish to speak of being inflexible? Well, look no further than the Gardevoir in this room right now.” Her tone grew aggressive—a change so rare that Marigold had thought it to be impossible. “Are my efforts not enough? Is Marigold’s not enough? The pokemon of this castle? Tell me, Anemone, what is enough for you? What will make you feel safe?”

Oh dear, that failed. Arms slowly dropping to her side, Marigold could feel her lips growing dry from all of the gasps and quick breaths. If there was more she could do, finding the right answer was hampered by her reluctance to even so much as think and push Anemone further into belligerence.

Even still, she found herself drifting back to a train of thought that had been floating in her mind over the past few days. There had been an air of tension throughout the castle that anyone with a pair of ears could pick up on. Talks of tighter security, more criminal activity, and conflicts brewing had spread from bottom to top with no remorse. Marigold’s attempts had slowed it down, even muddying some of the finer details, but there was no stopping a rumor once it infected a community.

“Oh yes,” said Anemone, breaking the water type out of her thoughts, “you bring up a good point, Marigold.”

A pit formed in Marigold’s stomach.

Calluna’s tassels swayed more fervently, her brimmed hat tilted downward. This way, she was quite imposing with shadows eclipsing her facial features. “Ignoring me and breaking an established rule? My my~”

Marigold opened her mouth to speak quickly, hoping to at least beat Anemone to the punch. “No, I was going to say it aloud, don’t worry,” she lied. “I just thought it was relevant to bring up how the general populace has been reacting to all of this. Some of the mons I’ve talked to recently have taken notice of the higher density of guards and lookouts compared to before, for instance.”

“And that’s exactly the problem,” Anemone remarked, pouring herself another cup of tea from her…peculiar tea-making machine. “Calluna here thinks that making our restlessness more obvious is the right course of action, when all it does is exasperate matters even further. I wanted to keep things low-key for a reason—pretty soon we’ll have them beating our doors down. Better to resolve this now then act like it’s a problem that will resolve itself.”

That wasn’t what-

Baleful cackles arouse from Calluna. “You’re right—it won’t resolve itself. But forgive me if I’ve forgotten who can pluck this information right out of the minds of a pokemon before it gets any worse. Would you mind enlightening Marigold and I on why, arbitrarily, you decided to make yourself off-limits to the general public these past two weeks? I have been sent hundreds of requests to see you, and that amount has only increased as time has gone on.”

The ghost floated to the desk, leaning against it and feigning a near-faint. “Anemone, please…” Calluna whined. “You’ve been so quiet, so closed off. Some even wonder if you’re still alive.” She brought a tassel to her forehead. “I am only doing my job. How can I be faulted for that?”

Like a Flaaffy in humid air, Marigold’s ponytail began to fray, her face growing warm with discomfort. This morning was already a rush—adding on the stress of a ruined hairdo only served to set the tone for the rest of the day.

“Please, both of you!” she cried. “It’s a difficult situation to be in for all of us, no doubt. No amount of finger pointing will change that.”

Anemone crossed her arms, skewering Calluna with the daggers she glared from her eyes. Yet she stayed silent, as did Calluna. Neither seemed privy to interrupting the Primarina this time.

Marigold continued. “What matters is setting the right example through communication. This applies to both of you: there is no existing outside of the bubble. We have to solve this together!”

Hopefully that made sense. Marigold had used the bubble analogy before, to explain how nothing within the castle was solely independent. They all lived in the same place under the same roof—one big bubble. Everyone had to pull their weight, or the bubble would pop.

“Ah yes,” Anemone muttered, “the bubble.” She had not blinked once since she locked eyes with Calluna. Whether or not the words previously spoken had even registered with Anemone, Marigold could not tell.

“I agree that a lack of communication would only harm our image,” said Calluna solemnly. “But I will remind you that Anemone has all of the information she could possibly need. In fact, so do I. Between us, communication is irrelevant.”

Calluna floated over to one of the far windows, the sunlight filtering in and piercing through her partially transparent form. Her voice echoed loudly off the walls. “Leadership is what truly matters, and so is playing the role you are meant to play. Anemone has failed to do so, leaving all of us to wonder what roles need to be played in the first place. There is no leadership to be found here. Especially not from her.”

Light, graceful footsteps became heavy and thundering as Anemone stormed after her. “You have no right to talk to me about playing roles!” she boomed. A finger was pointed. “Your role is what I say it is. I’m curious to know if you’ve noticed how worse things have gotten ever since that fact has been warped.”

The room lit up with ferocity. They continued to argue.

Meanwhile, Marigold wilted. Yet another attempt to steer the conversation had deftly failed. As would the next attempt and possibly the one after that. Was there nothing else she could do at this point? Both Anemone and Calluna seemed to have made up their minds about each other…

All she could think to do was watch the two smartest pokemon she could think of tear each other apart verbally and pray that they come to some sort of agreement. Marigold could also be struck by a sudden surge of inspiration, but even the most creative sects of her mind were clouded with a despondent miasma.

She made an attempt to straighten her hair. Under her breath, she mumbled quietly, “Sometimes I wonder if I really belong in this committee…”

“Of course you belong here,” Anemone said in a surprisingly kind voice.

Looking up from the floor she was staring at, Marigold was shocked to find that both Anemone and Calluna had their gazes affixed on her, as though they halted their disagreement just to address her thoughts—words never meant to be spoken.

Only that they weren’t thoughts; she had said it out loud. Even with Anemone in the room, this felt especially careless. Why did she say it?

Strangely, Calluna agreed with Anemone before Marigold had realized the mistake she had made. “She’s right, you know. It helps to have a third, wholly distinct voice to listen to and garner advice from. Giratina knows my employees are of a certain breed.”

Anemone shot Calluna a look out of the corner of her eye, but added to the sentiment despite that. “…Neither of us can talk to the general public like you can, Marigold. Your commitment is invaluable.” She sighed. “And, I like having you around.”

Calluna nodded, shooting Anemone a smug smirk. “As do I. The three of us make a great team…even if we are prone to frequent bouts of dissent.”

Oh my. Marigold was quite used to compliments, but hearing them from these two reddened her cheeks a little bit. She was not aware that either Calluna or Anemone were capable of such things.

“Oh…is that…so?” Marigold uttered with uncertainty. “Well…” A smile formed on her face. How unexpected. “Thank you. I know that my strategic capabilities are minimal compared to yours, Anemone. And I know that your management skills make mine look pitiful, Calluna. But I’m glad I can help in any way I can. This job matters a lot to me.”

More than either of them probably realized. Even Anemone, with her memory prodding, might not have recognized how much these compliments warmed Marigold’s heart. It was touching that they viewed her in such a positive light.

Perhaps recognizing the shift in tone, Calluna turned to Anemone. “Well?” she asked.

Anemone shook her head, her eyes clamped shut, seemingly in pain. “I’ve had enough,” the Gardevoir groaned. “I’ll have one of my channelers contact you about this more later, Calluna. I need a break.”

“Mmm,” Calluna hummed, hovering further and further away. “As you wish. Mari-dear, let’s leave Anemone be.”

With a reluctant nod of her head, Mari dragged herself after Calluna. Occasionally, she glanced at Anemone over her shoulder. She caught brief glimpses of the Gardevoir hunched over her desk, hitching her back.

Concern was evident on Marigold’s face, and Calluna noticed. “Don’t worry about her, dear,” the Mismagius said. “Anemone is no more infallible than either of us, but my cumulative grievances would never detract from her strength. We’ll decide on something soon, I’m certain.”

Marigold agreed by setting her gaze forward and clearing her mind. “Of course.”

She could only hope.

---

At Altaria’s, the atmosphere was thick with a craving for lunch. Like a blinding radiance that coated every inch of the building, words were slung about in haphazard cohesion, alongside the textile clinks and slurps that only a lunch rush could elicit. A favorite time for any social Beautifly.

Marigold had once said that the places where food was eaten were the most peaceful places in the world. War could ravish the lands, conflict at every corner, but a simple diner with a prolific menu could bring it all to a halt for a good half hour. Although, she could only sympathize with the young employees Altaria hired recently; they had their work cut out for them.

So many familiar faces in the establishment, so many stories to tell. However, only one face mattered to her at that moment: the Brionne sitting across from her.

“I just didn’t know she was a lesbian,” said the Brionne, sipping her Payapa berry smoothie with a disgruntled look on her face. “We’ve been friends since my third hatchday, and she never told me!”

Marigold nursed her own smoothie like she was handling a precious jewel. Up to this point she had neglected to tell her daughter that she was already aware of her friend Mazus’ sexuality. Her latent curiosity with the Lilligant’s previous relationship led to a heart-to-heart over what she truly desired. And the Hakamo-o Mazus had previously dated did not match that desire, regardless of how hard she tried to make it work.

“She seems more happy now, though, doesn’t she?” Marigold wondered aloud. Resting her cheek on her flipper, she watched Prim flex her own flippers theatrically.

“And I would have been happy with her!” Prim groaned. “We all could have been happy. But how can we even perform if she can’t trust us?”

As someone that spoke with Mazus directly about this, Marigold understood quite well that it had nothing to do with trust. Her friendships or even her spot on the dance team were unquestionably secure, or so Mazus claimed. Marigold certainly had no interest in punishing the poor girl for it. It was the public response that drove them all to secrecy.

Marigold took a tiny sip from her smoothie. “You never suspected it? Not once?”

Prim’s mouth fell agape like the question itself offended her. “No!” she exclaimed. “C’mon, mom! We do everything together! Do you really think I wouldn’t know?”

It wouldn’t surprise Marigold if Prim didn’t. Mazus was very unassuming in a way that only a pretty girl could be. There was no indication on the surface that so much as hinted at a betrayal of the norm. Even below the surface, denial reached far. It was only after asking the right questions did the truth become known.

“Finding out what you really want takes a long time, Prim,” Mari said. “I wasn’t born a singer, for example.”

“I get that! But still! A little heads up would have been nice.” She groaned even louder this time. “Now everyone thinks we’re all…flowery!”

For a moment, Marigold glanced around her at the pokemon enjoying their lunch. Regular, everyday pokemon talking to those around them. Word-of-mouth traveled fast, that much she knew. It did not surprise her in the slightest that this was the conclusion that was eventually reached.

The source of Mazus’ fear: being the reason not just her but all of her friends were scorned, laughed at, and judged. Perhaps even hated. It was enough to keep any mon in hiding.

Marigold furrowed her eyebrows, choosing right then to sit upright. “No they don’t,” she reassured. “Just ignore those kinds of rumors. The public will forget about it before you know it.”

Prim’s ears fell flat against her head. “I hope so. It’s just…I’m not mad at her, she can be a lesbian if she wants. Being around her now, though…ugh, I feel uncomfortable, I hate it.”

“Prim, look at me.”

The Brionne met Marigold’s gaze, guilt shining in her eyes.

“Nothing’s changed.” The Primarina’s voice was clear, stern. Just like how she used to talk to Prim when she was still a little Popplio getting up to mischief. “What you need to do is sit down with her and let her know that this won’t hurt your friendship. She’s probably just as worried as you are.”

Prim whined. “I know…” Her gaze fell to her half-finished smoothie, lost in thought. Then, abruptly, she asked, “Mom, what would you do if I was a lesbian?”

You aren’t one, was Mari’s immediate thought.

As terrible as it sounded, Marigold knew that Prim wasn’t like that. And she was glad, if she was being honest. Not that Mari had anything against the idea or anything like that; Prim was her own pokemon and she could decide for herself. Marigold just…didn’t want her daughter to take that path, simple as that.

It was a conversation too stressful for her to have at this age. In her mind, it complicated matters, made her ask questions that would be answered awfully quickly if Prim found a nice boy instead.

Marigold put on the best smile she could. “I wouldn’t do anything, Prim. If that’s who you are, I won’t judge.”

Prim smiled genuinely, and that guilt from before faded from her eyes. “Okay, mom,” she said. “I was just curious.”

Warmth spread to the Primarina’s heart. Seeing her daughter smile was the biggest source of joy in her life. She wouldn’t know what to do with herself if she lost it.

Some time ago, Marigold had a chat with another mother. An Umbreon, if Marigold remembered correctly. She was distraught, and angry at her own son for leaving home without a word. The son wanted to travel, be an explorer, and experience danger he’d never find in Kebia. But his mother wouldn’t let him, claiming that she’d never accept such a brazen, foolhardy son as her own. So, the son left. And despite driving her own son further away, she referred to him as “nothing but a brat that never appreciated anything she had done for him.”

Marigold wanted to do everything she could to not be that Umbreon.

It was at that moment that a young Armaldo waiter stopped by their table to deliver the bill and ask if they enjoyed the meal. Not much thought was put into Marigold’s response, but her daughter put her everything into hers. A beaming smile, fluttering eyelashes, and the cutest darn voice Marigold had ever heard—all sufficient in making the Armaldo stutter and lose his bearings.

She had to suppress a devious little smile. Prim would be fine.

As the waiter walked off, leaving Marigold to examine the bill, Prim hummed to herself. A telltale sign that she was in a good mood. “What about you, mom?” she wondered.

How much were those pancakes? Goodness, Altaria must have raised her prices. I should ask her about coupons…

“Hm? What about me?” Mari questioned absentmindedly.

Prim swatted at the air with her flipper before letting it go limp in front of her. “Go on, tell me. You’ve gotta have your eyes on another guy now, right? It’s been long enough.”

Marigold froze, nonplussed. Her eyebrow raised high enough to shift her tiara.

The Brionne held out her flippers defensively as she added “Or lady. You don’t judge me, I don’t judge you,” in a half-joking manner.

That last comment was obviously not meant to be taken seriously, which was why Marigold did anything but. A melodious chuckle arose from her throat. The mere mention of her love life coaxed her to sing—public manners be damned. Love was often the focus of her music, but yet…

Marigold waved Prim off dismissively. “Oh please,” she said. “You know me, Prim. I’m too busy for that sort of thing these days.”

“Oh, of course,” Prim admitted, “you’re married to your work, I forgot.”

Another comment not meant to be taken seriously. However, this one stung harder than Prim was likely intending.

Marigold was married to her work. Every day of the week, she served the castle like a doting lover. Treating its wounds, lending a listening ear, loving it dearly.

But it never loved her back. Not in the way a male her age ever could.

…Or female, as Prim had suggested. Marigold would be lying if she said the thought never crossed her mind. She got along quite well with other pokemon her age and gender; much more so than with any male. If given the opportunity, Mari believed that she could be quite happy that way.

Alas, now was not the time in her life to consider such things. It was too complicated, and brought on too much change. Like Prim had said, her work was more important, anyway.

Marigold shook her head. “You know that all ended for me after your father left. Those days are behind me.”

Prim’s expression soured slightly, as if the mention of her estranged father brought on some bad memories. “I hope I never have to meet him,” she muttered.

“You and me both,” Marigold said in a near whisper. “That Primarina has nothing to offer you, Prim.” Not after he got with that Ninetales.

Thankfully, the conversation turned to much cheerier matters quickly. Prim, with her smoothie now completely empty, slid out of her booth. “Well, if you ever change your mind, I hear there’s a Dragonite working at the landing pads…”

Oh boy, Marigold could see where this was going. “Please, anyone but him.”

“What? He’s successful, funny, exactly your type, and clearly into you. You deserve it!”

Marigold slid out of her booth, as well, chuckling all the while. “You could be describing fifty pokemon for all I know. I’m just not interested in a relationship right now, honey.”

“Fiiiiine.”

This was clearly not the end of it. Within a week’s time Prim would point out another mon that could potentially hold Marigold’s attention, she just knew it. And like before, Marigold would shoot down the idea.

It was touching that her daughter cared, though. Love was hard to come by in these times. If given the choice between those fifty pokemon, her daughter, and the castle, she would pick her daughter every time.

She made sure to give her a tight hug on their way out, despite Prim’s protests.

“Stoooop, I’m not a little Popplio anymore!” she whined.

“You’ll always be my little Popplio, honey.”

---

With it being Thursday, the castle’s first floor bulletin board had been updated with the past week’s news. A crowd of pokemon typically shuffled in early in the morning to see what had changed, then left for the cafeteria down the hall to have breakfast afterwards. Some, like Marigold, opted to do the opposite, and grab their breakfast before checking the news so they could converse and discuss any changes. The room housing the bulletin board doubled as a lounging area, too.

Marigold loved this time of the week. Faces that had almost seemed to have faded into the background by way of overworking themselves appear for their one social outlet, lit up by the prospect of something new. It gave her a chance to connect with others that would normally never join a social gathering. She would spend hours there every Thursday morning, talking until her throat nearly gave out.

Unfortunately, obligations in the form of a meeting with the other matriarchs and lunch with her daughter caused Marigold to miss the early crowd this morning. There was always next week, of course, but every time she missed it her heart would ache. So many connections were forged in that one room, brought together through the bubble of shared information…

An hour had already passed since Marigold had stopped by the lounge anyway. With the exception of a couple teams doing some late cleanup and Marigold herself, any remaining activity had fizzled out. But with that in mind, it had also been an hour since she started conversing with Team Coral.

“Have you ever seen the dead walk again, Ms. Marigold?” asked the Cramorant, a slight tinge of hopeful curiosity in his voice.

Mari’s head arose from her flipper, both interested and perplexed by the question. “I beg your pardon?”

The Cramorant’s Scrafty teammate elbowed him playfully. “Why do you always have to be so blunt, huh?” said the Scrafty. “You know that’s not what actually happened.”

Cramorant fluffed his feathers. “Hey, it’s not a bad question if she answers it.”

Despite the morbid nature of the query, Team Coral never failed to make Marigold laugh. They were good company.

“Oh, it’s not a bad question at all,” Marigold agreed. “Why do you ask?”

Scrafty waved it off. “It’s…nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m telling you, this isn’t the first time this happened,” Cramorant squawked. He looked at Marigold expectantly. “I’m talking about dead pokemon getting up and walking off like nothing happened.”

Curious. “Are…reviver seeds involved?” Those peculiar items were never out of the question; though Marigold had never seen them used herself.

But to her surprise, Cramorant shook his head. “No, nothing like that. It’s something else entirely, I’m telling you.”

At the same time, Scrafty cleared his throat. “What he means is, we failed a job recently and the client bit the dust in the dungeon we were in,” Scrafty explained. “Then a few days later a buddy of mine let me know that he saw that same client up and about two towns over, not a scratch on him.”

Cramorant shuddered. “It’s like he…walked right out, and started a new life…”

Dead pokemon rising from their grave and walking off to start a new life…creepy.

Marigold never was one for the macabre. Folk tales and horror stories were not her “cup of tea,” as Anemone would say. Even the friendliest of Calluna’s ghosts could make Mari jump at a moment’s notice.

Now her daughter, she was a different story. Marigold could see Prim eating up this story for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was a mystery where she got that from.

Marigold shook her head indignantly. “Well, that’s quite the story. Did you let Lace and Ipo know so they could update the document?”

Cramorant put his wings on his hips and glared. “You don’t believe me, do you Marigold?”

She didn’t.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” she lied, “it’s that there are explanations for this. It’s not impossible that, somehow, a reviver seed found its way to the corpse and worked its magic. Mystery Dungeons work in mysterious ways like that.”

Or perhaps they were misremembering the death entirely. Or this friend of theirs was working off of incorrect, second-hand information. Accepting this account at face value did not seem like a smart play.

The Scrafty, even though he was trying very hard not to act self-satisfied, rested his hand on the bird’s shoulder. “See? There was no point in even bringing it up. Let’s just leave it be.”

Shoulders slumped, the Cramorant looked absolutely lost. “You gotta believe me, it’s not that simple…” he muttered.

As much as she wanted to sympathize with the mon, his story had too many holes for Marigold to take seriously. Besides, putting any sort of mental energy into a topic such as this detracted from actual, tangible issues. Like how Team Coral failed to keep a client alive. Not just safe—alive.

“In any case, please be more careful in the future,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not hear any more stories about the dead, period.”

Cramorant opened his beak to speak, but quickly clamped it shut.

There were loud, furious voices erupting from the hallway.

Any and all discussion rushed to a screeching halt as Marigold and the others in the room with her scurried out of the door. Her heart beat faster the closer she got to the source—Marigold recognized the voices in question.

The first belonged to Aster, Calluna’s Banette accomplice. “You think this is funny, huh?” he accused, his body jittering and his lips fully unzipped. Two Duskull idled behind him, their floating eyes perpetually scanning from left to right. “I can see past those glares—I know what you’re up to!”

The second belonged to Geum, a channeler of Anemone. “Nothing of what you described is unacceptable behavior; our Natu have the right,” said the Xatu, stone faced and to-the-point.

And the third was a second Xatu, Diascia, somehow louder than the other two despite speaking in a whispery voice. “Unacceptable, unacceptable…” she chanted.

“The right to encroach on my turf?” Aster challenged. “The nerve…what are you after, you freaks!”

Geum’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Our reasoning was already given-“

“-complaints must be addressed,” added Diascia, her beak shifting upward a small amount.

As if fully in tune with their leader, the Duskull’s eyes bobbed from one end to the other with increased frequency.

Aster’s arms elongated, raising high above his head. “If it was a complaint I would know what it was! And that’s that!” His eyes glowed as they narrowed. “So if I don’t know then someone doesn’t want me to know…”

At the same time, Team Coral uttered several concerned musings such as “That doesn’t sound good” and “I can see this becoming a fight.” Other pokemon had started to gather, watching on with morbid curiosity.

Marigold knew what a volatile conflict of interest looked like. She didn’t need to surmise the cause of this tension to understand that this interaction was not just a smoking disagreement, it was the point of no return. Neither side seemed compelled to search for an alternative solution, and it was only going to get worse. They needed to be separated now.

There wasn’t even enough time to let out a hefty sigh before Marigold hobbled right into the center of the scuffle. Nor did she take a moment to consider what she was doing.

“Stop, stop!” Marigold adjured. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re in public, by Kyogre’s fins!”

Three sets of eyes and two singular, ghostly eyes fell on the Primarina, each seemingly widened at Marigold’s presence. Aster’s arms whipped back to his shoulders like a loosened rubber band, while both Xatu stood ever so slightly straighter.

Aster’s lips zipped shut, and he said, “Oh, grand, Marigold. You’re here.” He gestured to the psychic birds. “Can you tell these two to mind their damned business? They’re invading my privacy.”

Smartly, neither Xatu had a response to that. An admission of guilt? It didn’t really matter to Marigold.

The Primarina crossed her arms. “This is childish and you know it, Aster. If you— any of you disagree on something you should solve it like adults, privately.”

If Aster had teeth he would have been gritting them together. “I tried to do that, Marigold!” he claimed. “But they’ve been avoiding me!” Both Duskull nodded their bodies in assurance of that fact.

Geum’s response was quick—very quick. “There had been no attempts to avoid you or your ghosts; that is slander.”

Diascia added, “This is the first time Aster has spoken to us about this issue…”

“You got that right!” Aster snapped. “Who would want to talk to YOU anyways?”

“Aster,” Marigold reprimanded. Now was not the time for personal insults. Even if neither of the Xatu reacted whatsoever.

She almost didn’t speak up, though, simply because she somewhat agreed with Aster. Geum and Diascia were woefully poor conversationalists, and were frequently the subject of scathing rumors by the general public. The concept of those two fornicating just to create more mindless Natu drones was…persistent. And certainly not true.

But compared to the two Reuniclus that predated them, Geum and Diascia were difficult to defend. Marigold made the assumption that she would have to do all of the heavy lifting here.

Aster sank back, floating closer to the floor. “…Listen, if you’re gonna talk about me then I’m gonna talk back. No excuses.”

“What exactly is the problem here?” Marigold said sternly. After which she added, while simultaneously cutting off Aster, “And don’t…insult each other, please.”

“We are simply honoring a compliant-” Geum explained.

“-that is our job…” Diascia stated.

Turning to Marigold, Aster’s lips unzipped to unveil a frenzied, pitch black void. “They’re spying on me!” he spat. “Everytime I look out of the corner of my eye I see another one of their spawns. Is that your job?” He pointed his ire at Diascia.

The Xatu took a step back.

Marigold ignored Aster for now. Even if she wanted to trust him, he was sounding more and more paranoid by the moment. She looked at Geum.

“What is this about a complaint?” she asked.

Geum proceeded to point his wing at Aster. “Banette Aster has reportedly been conducting various acts of harassment and bullying recently; enough to elicit a complaint from one affected.”

The shock was clear on Aster’s face. “Harassment!? Bullying!? Who said that? When I get my mits on them-“

Marigold cut in, glaring harshly at the ghost. “Aster, stop.” She turned back to the bird, trying to remain firm. “And from what Aster is claiming, you took it upon yourself to…observe him, and see if these claims were true.”

Geum…nodded, very hesitantly. “Indeed-“

Aster nearly shouted. “And you had NO RIGHT to do so-!”

There we go. That was all Marigold needed.

“Okay!” she announced, successfully making herself the center of attention for the final time. “We’re resolving this.”

Marigold put on her best Get Along smile, a specialty of hers. It was the perfect blend of agreeable amiability and off-putting intensity that made even the manliest of mons bow their heads in guilt. Prim often called it the You Will Get Along smile for a reason.

She could feel the audience’s uneasiness from where she was situated.

First, the Xatu. Marigold looked between the two of them, grinning like a Darmanitan. “I believe we have a solution: Calluna. From here on forward, if there are any issues with her ghosts, talk to her first. You don’t need to take it upon yourselves to act.”

Like always, it was difficult to discern either Geum or Diascia’s intentions. For several seconds they simply stared, contemplating or perhaps stunned by this change in events. It was Diascia’s response that earned any discernible reaction.

“Understood…” she whispered.

By the time Mari had turned on Aster, the bird’s slow response became more explainable. He had on this deviously smug look that contorted his warped countenance into something that even Marigold found irritating.

She cleared her throat. “And you,” she started, “I’m going to be looking into this myself.”

Immediately all of that superiority dissipated, as even the Duskull seemed shocked. “Wha- Mari, please,” Aster said. “You can’t be…surely you aren’t-“

“I have to, Aster,” affirmed Marigold. “Regardless of how you feel about it, this is something that can’t stand if it is true. This situation deserves its due attention.”

It was not long before Aster’s expression soured and he was right by the Primarina’s ear, pleading for his case. Or, rather, pleading against the Xatu.

“You know they’re just trying to stir something up,” Aster muttered. “Don’t listen to them.”

But Marigold was not interested in picking sides. Was it possible that the Xatu were trying to spy on Aster for other reasons and made up an excuse? Was it reasonable to assume that Aster was as big a bully as they claimed? She could believe either one, but good leaders worked off of hard facts, not emotion.

She learned that the hard way.

“You shouldn’t be worried, Aster,” Marigold said. “If neither claim is true, then this was all a misunderstanding. We just have to get to the bottom of it.”

Judging by how he was jittering and threatening to unzip his mouth once more, Aster was not satisfied with this conclusion. Understandable, but like Marigold said: they were all adults here.

“Tch!” Aster forced his zipper closed, dropping to the ground like a rock. “You won’t find anything. Mark my words…”

And just like that, the Banette and Duskull disappeared into the floor. The air felt that much warmer in their absence.

That was one side of the scuffle resolved. Marigold did not expect the Xatu to throw in any last remarks, though. In fact, when she turned to face them, they were already preparing to fly off, wings extended.

“The interference is appreciated, Ms. Marigold,” Geum stated.

“We must fly now…”

Marigold held up a flipper. “Wait,” she started, “was all of that true? Were you keeping an eye on Aster for the reason you gave?”

Neither Xatu offered an immediate answer. Once again Marigold had to wonder what was going through their minds.

Geum finally said, “Our word is as stalwart as our allegiance; we do not lie.”

“Never…”

Was there a bit of an edge to Diascia’s voice? Or was Marigold hearing things?

Regardless, she nodded. “Thank you.”

The Xatu flew off without another word, leaving the scene bereft of any remaining conflict.

Several of the watching pokemon left right then and there. Others remained to discuss what had just happened, already sinking into pits of speculation.

Marigold was not one to halt a conversation once it had started. What had just transpired had been done so in a public place. She did what she could, and now she had something to work on today.

Always with the drama…she thought ruefully.

Team Coral approached her, jumping right into speculation of their own, formulating conclusions.

“You know, I’ve heard some iffy stuff about that Banette before,” said the Scrafty.

“And the Xatu,” Cramorant added. “Some creeeeepy stuff.”

As much as Marigold wanted to entertain the notion…

With her voice raised an octave, and while wearing a beaming smile, Marigold turned to them and said, “Whatever it was that caused such a reaction I’m certain it can be solved. We’re all together here.”

All in one big bubble. And by Kyogre’s name was Mari going to ensure that this bubble wouldn’t pop.

Even if it meant bending the truth a little bit.