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...I-I’M SORRY? Porygon’s instantly recognizable timbre responds.
“Yeah. As in sounds? How do you make sounds, exactly?” Gill asks, sitting on top of a big, shoddily-made wooden stage.
With merely a week to finish their efforts, Clover Guild had gotten to work as hard as possible. Surprisingly efficiently, all things considered—they had already secured a forest clearing at the town’s outskirts, procured the untold amount of wood components necessary to set up the stalls and even walled off the entire area with a rudimentary wooden barrier made from the excess material that would’ve gone unused. It’s a busy sunny day, with all people involved moving about, carefully attempting to piece together stalls or otherwise performing all necessary duties in order to get the whole festival going. Among those tasks was the security detail that had already detained a few foxes from stealing raw cotton (whom were dealt with before Chespin and Wooper could further punish them).
Regarding Gill and his preparations for his singing show… a handful of volunteers, Politoed chiefly among them, have already been lending Gill a hand with rehearsals. However he knows well that his future audience is already well acquainted with talented singers. For a show made by Clover Guild to truly stand out, he thought, he might need an instrument or gimmick of some kind that only humans could come up with. Unfortunately, every wind, string and percussion instrument available is old hat to locals.
He would know from trying to purchase them at the marketplace. He could still not find a kazoo to annoy his brother with.
But what about the sounds a Porygon would produce?
I DO NOT WANT TO DISAPPOINT YOU, GILL, Porygon replies as sheepishly as his voice allows. His weightless body hovers on top of the wooden platform that growlithe sits upon. I NEVER FEEL LIKE I TRULY KNOW MYSELF... I JUST MAKE WORDS AND SUCH BY THINKING ABOUT THEM. I’M USING THE PHANTOM MOUTH THAT I DON’T HAVE, BASICALLY. NO COMMANDS OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT.
“How about singing?” Gill asks curiously.
SINGING...?
“Surely you can try.”
Porygon blinks a couple of times in silence. With no other reasoning to counter what was said, he slowly directs his floating body off-center from Gill.
I DON’T WANT TO SET THE WORLD... ON... FIRE...
“Nice… nice!” Gill cheers him on with an appreciative wag.
THAT WAS DREADFUL.
Admittedly, Porygon’s voice robotic snaps on the melody weren’t the most perfect in pitch. But everyone starts somewhere, right?
“Go on, go on…”
There’s another moment of silence longer than the last, perhaps because of a nearby squirtle having caught Porygon’s attention and thus breaking his weak streak of confidence.
...I JUST WANT TO START... A FLAME IN YOUR HEaRT...
“You got a vibrato going on, even,” Gill comments.
I DON’T THINK THIS IS GOING TO WORK.
From afar, Bill sits down near a pile of neatly tied wooden planks. In spite of the hundreds of pounds that they likely weighed, he didn’t have much of an issue moving several of the piles around on his back with the burden-carrying saddles meant for quadrupeds. His designated duty from Lliam is already done and his lack of dexterous digits means he can’t do much else but sit around until he is needed again.
Not that he has the energy to contribute to anything at the moment.
Making sure that he is lost behind the sea of provisions and incomplete stalls, he watches his brother up on the improvised platform:
“Wait, how about humming? Maybe you can take a look at your menus or something?”
Porygon stays stationary as his simplistic eyes move from side to side, looking at something other than the hisuian growlithe beside him as if perusing a lengthy invisible sign.
I SPEND A LOT OF TIME CHECKING MY STUFF ALREADY, MAYBE IF I HAD SOME PRIOR KNOWLEDGE OF PROGRAMMING I WOULD... OH, HEY WAIT... HUH...
Porygon outputs a series of low buzzes and dings like a computer sending out system notifications.
...I THINK I FOUND SOMETHING... OH, THIS IS INTERESTING... WHAT IF...?
An ear-splitting high frequency BEEP makes all bystanders around Porygon’s vicinity audibly recoil and cover their ears. Gill in particular had slipped off the stage and landed on the grass with a thud.
SORRY! I’M SO SORRY! I DIDN’T MEAN TO DO THAT! Porygon profusely apologizes, quickly swerving his entire body and bowing towards the annoyed murmurs of the people nearby, who proceeded to resume their activities.
LET ME SET SOME THINGS UP FIRST... AND...
Everyone looks back at Porygon and covers their ears…
…several arpeggiated triangle-wave sounds of low frequency start climbing in harmony to the tune of distinct chords. A square wave neatly introduces itself alongside the triangles, leading with a much more recognizable melody than before…
Gill stands up from his fall, marveled at what is happening. He sings along with his own melodic line complementing Porygon’s:
…set the world… on… fire… I just want to start… a flame in your heart…
Once Porygon is done, the previously doubtful onlookers start nodding and murmuring amongst themselves.
“Did you just make that up just now?!” Gill says excitedly.
I DID! I DON’T KNOW HOW THIS MAKES SENSE, BUT IT’S RIDICULOUSLY INTUITIVE! Porygon exclaims, his eyes displaying a previously unseen frame of joyful closed eyelids. I BET I COULD COME UP WITH MORE COMPLEX-SOUNDING INSTRUMENTS THAN THIS IF I FIDDLE AROUND ENOUGH...
“Your music is unique enough to stand out, that’s for sure! Wanna rehearse with Politoed for later today?”
SURE!
…meanwhile, from Bill’s vantage point, a minute sound and smell beside him between the ubiquitous lumber scent gives him the feeling that he’s being watched.
He turns his head to his side to find a small bird looking back at him.
That’s it—just a plain-looking, if big-headed robin from the guild. If several weeks in this strange world hadn’t trained him to regard most non-humans as sapient, he wouldn’t have thought twice about him. It helps that they’re technically acquaintances.
“Uh, hi” Bill says.
Followed by no reply.
Even still, the curious animal doesn’t even see it fit to say a “hello” to Bill. If he didn’t know any better, the robin might indeed just be a misplaced bird in a sea of magical creatures. Though for someone who doesn’t talk much, the growlithe already knows a lot about him: he’s a fletchling going by “Bean” and he’s the third in a peculiar trio from the guild, teamed up with the plucky sandshrew Cassie and a frankly unpleasant six-tailed arctic fox. Bean is also a formidable drinker at parties when he wants to and a surprisingly accomplished artist for his build. Of course Bill didn’t hear this from him—Cassie just likes to talk about him a lot during therapy.
“So,” Bill continues the non-existent conversation. “I’m done with my chores. Do you have any?”
Bean blinks before unfolding a wing and adjusting the comically tiny blue hat he’s wearing—a perfect fit for him. Bill failing to notice it is less a mistake on his part and has more to do with him already being used to seeing clothing on beasts.
“Ah, I see. Security detail,” Bill concludes, having seen a similar clothing article being worn by others around the entrance. “Slow day?”
The fletchling does the closest thing a bird can get to “shrugging his shoulders”. He sure has fun figuring out ways to not speak, Bill thinks.
As though long-time friends, Bean takes his hat off and sits down besides Bill without any hint of awkwardness. Bill would think the opposite, but the general calm and the greater awkwardness in leaving Bean behind for no reason keeps him grounded.
Whatever Gill and Porygon are conversing about, Bill has long since ignored it. Though they both remain in his line of sight.
“That guy over there is my brother,” Bill informs somberly. “I know one shouldn’t compare themselves to people in this way but I always do. In my mind, I always end up coming short compared to him. Heh.”
Bean turns his head and looks at him intently.
Bill puts a paw behind his neck.
“I've been... going through stuff. It doesn’t matter much.”
Bean tilts his head. The growlithe has never felt more pressed for details with no words.
"I-I... er... Cassie talks a lot about you, you know. You don't seem like someone who would tell secrets. Do you mind if I ramble?"
Bill waits before getting a nod.
“Ignoring that stuff I'm going through… the reason why I end up ‘coming short’ is… well… I wish I could live as freely as my brother Gill seems to. Be as confident. He makes a mistake, he moves on. A lot of times, it seems as though he’ll always say the right thing, because he happens to be that kind of person.
Me? I can’t live without being scared of being wrong. Or even the very idea of being wrong. I make one mistake, and it feels like it’ll follow me around for the rest of my life. So I’m not… confident, or free or self-assured… and I can get a little awkward with people.
You know… when I came here… I didn’t want to believe me or my brother had died. Especially him. I want to believe so badly that we’re not stuck in this limbo forever. Well… if I’m lucky enough to get my answers, I’ll receive them, I suppose. But it doesn’t change things at the end of the day. So what if I’m alive, or dead, or transformed, or in a different body, or dreaming… Sometimes I feel like I’ll never truly appreciate the beauty of things the way Gill does. Because I myself, I’m not a very er… beautiful… individual? You know? Sorry I don’t know how to…”
The fletchling stares straight ahead, occasionally blinking.
“I don’t know how you’ve made me dump this on you.” Bill sighs as he takes his paw off his neck, noticing it had been stuck there the whole time. “Ah… th-that’s not correct, I’m the one who told you this.”
Bean continues to look ahead.
Bill looks to the side opposite to Bean’s.
“What I’m saying is… with this ‘beauty’ thing I’m saying... how could I spend time with people like Gill… if I’m not beautiful myself?”
…
“...you can tell me to shut up if I’m being a handful,” Bill tells the bird. “Not that I’m asking for—”
The growlithe turns around as something soft taps on the side of his foreleg. When he turns his head to see Bean stretching his wing ahead, as if pointing towards the stage.
Gill and Porygon had sat down on the wooden platform for a while now. Though with the latter’s perpetually static body, it looks more as though he had gotten tired of floating through the air.
“...not gonna be happy if I tell you thiiiis,” Gill says deviously.
IT CAN’T BE THAT BAD, CAN IT?
“Nah, it’s not,” Gill admits. “You didn’t hear it from me though. Bill loves to sing. He’s pretty good at it too.”
AH... REALLY? HE DOESN’T LOOK THE SORT.
“Yeah, he does sing. Our mom tries to show him off that one time at a family gathering, then next thing you know he's swearing off singing altogether. I bet he hates not having a place to do it here in private. I’d be happy to sing with him, I don’t think we’ve done that since we were kids. And with a stupid movie song, too.”
BILL... IT’S NICE HAVING SOMEONE TO RELATE TO THE DREAD THAT IS LIVING THE BODY THAT I HAVE Porygon comments. IT’S BEEN A WHILE SINCE I HAD A TALK WITH HIM. WHEN I HEARD THAT HE WAS HAVING A ROUGH TIME, I FELT LIKE I WANTED TO PUT IN MY TWO CENTS AND GIVE HIM A BIT OF LEVITY MYSELF SOMEHOW. CHEERING UP YOUR THERAPIST IS NOT THE WAY IT SHOULD BE THOUGH, ISN’T IT?
...I KID. THOUGH IT WOULDN’T SURPRISE ME THAT HE DOES SEE IT THAT WAY. IT’S A SMALL THING HE’S DONE, HEARING ME BUMBLE ON MY THOUGHTS AND HOW I’M FEELING. BUT IT’S MEANT SOMETHING SPECIAL TO ME, EVEN IF I DON’T THINK ANYONE CAN TRULY UNDERSTAND MY SITUATION.
AFTER ALL, SOMEONE TO LEAN ON CAN COME FROM ANYWHERE. RIGHT?
“...if you wish”, Gill responds. “I can tell him to stop moping around and get you two talking again already.”
THAT WOULD BE NICE. NOW, WHAT WAS THAT SONG YOU TWO USED TO SING...?
…
Bean hops in front of Bill soundlessly. His two beady black eyes are as piercing as can be.
“I’m sure that’s neat and all…” Bill responds dispiritedly, avoiding eye contact. “But I’m really just the first useful fool who happened to be there for people and he’s… well, 'beautiful'. I do not think that counts. I really don’t.”
...
...
With nothing else to add, Bean hops on over his hat and fits it on his head with a deft motion of his wings. He flies away.
The looming day of the festival had accosted the Clover Guild for several days to the point where even the guildmaster, ever unfazed, looked slightly on edge after a quality assurance meeting by Magnezone. In other news, Phanpy was upping his intake of Quick Seeds further while the cook got particularly irritated the morning after Togetic nervously slipped, breaking one of the plates. Though the effort poured into every wooden stand, nightly rehearsals and catering had been a creative investment steep enough that some almost forgot that this was supposed to be made to “save the guild” as it were. That did not ease the pressure in the group as a whole by the time night fell upon Capim on the final day before the Summer Festival opening up.
Silvery blue moonlight shines down so brightly that the tiki torches around the main stage seemed redundant. Regarding the reason why they are alight in the dead of the night...
“Wealth! Fame! Power!” Gill enthusiastically narrates to the cheering audience of former humans of the Clover Guild. “Gold Roger, the King of the Pirates, attained this and everything else the world had to offer. And his dying words drove countless souls to the seas…”
Totodile quickly hops in front of him with a mock raspy voice: “You want my treasure? You can have it! I left everything I gathered together in one place! Now you just have to find it…”
Porygon’s snare soundfont flares up in anticipation for an upbeat series of chords before Gill picks up the narration…
“These words lured men to the Grand Line in pursuit of dreams greater than they’ve ever dared to imagine. This is the time known as ‘The Great Pirate Era’!”
So come on boys and bring along all your hopes and dreams Together we will find everything that we’re looking for
Positively livened up, many beasts in the audience yell the lyrics along Gill and Totodile.
So long as Totodile didn’t make a mess of the place and there was proper supervision, the organizers were gracious enough to allow some levity to anyone who wished to unwind the night prior. Though it’s not like the stage with planks mismatched in color could look any uglier, a spinarak from the guild cynically opined.
The song goes on, reaching its fever pitch at the reprise of the chorus and its ending.
There's always room for you if you wanna be my friend We are, we are on the cruise We are
Totodile jumps down to the audience, fully expecting a crowd that was NOT going to greet him the way one expected. A quick empty circle forms as he lands on the grass and mingles with the rest.
“Great, great, anyone else know any lyrics or wants to get up here?” Gill asks the loud audience. “I’m starting to forget a lot of them! I need someone to—”
He turns around once he notices Bill having climbed up the platform.
Feet apart from each other, Bill looks like he’d be anywhere but where he’s standing right now. Especially given that he was cheered on as loudly as obnoxiously possible once people took notice of him. After all, the twins put together are sure to put on a show of their own, right? Yet everyone knew that Bill had declined to sing for the night of the festival…
“Hey Billy,” the hisui growlithe walks up to greet him, a bit more subdued in his tone than usual. “Everything fine?”
“I could always use to do better,” Bill snarks shyly.
“Good to know,” Gill answers back with a smile. “You’re not doing what I think you’re gonna—”
“Our song. Let’s do it quick or I’ll have second thoughts.”
“Really?!”
“Please, let’s just—”
“Right, right, right, let’s do it!” Gill turns to face the crowd. “You guys probably don’t know this one, but if you like All-Star then you’ll like this one! Pory, you know that one.”
Porygon nods and blinks rapidly, appearing to be clearing his cache before preparing himself…
…a simple colorful arpeggio of more complex triangle-based instruments repeats itself over and over, waiting for a lead to take over.
Gill sings with gusto in front of the stage, beckoning Bill to come over with a paw and not caring in the slightest about the obvious signs of hesitation coming from his brother.
I believe in self-assertion Destiny or a slight diversion Now it seems I've got my head on straight I'm a freak, an apparition Seems I've made the right decision Try to turn back now, it might be too late…
The whole time, the audience is wooing Bill into getting closer, which he reluctantly agrees to. Porygon’s instrumentation starts including snares and a bass. At any moment, he’d be forced to do it.
And so he quietly sings a low second melody to harmonize with his brother’s:
And it's up to the moon and then back again…
The crowd goes wild. Embarrassed, Bill tries his hardest not to interpret it as a basic platitude from people easy to please.
…Same old day, same situation My happiness rears back as if to say…
I wanna stay home today (“I don't wanna go out”, Gill energetically punctuates) If anyone comes to play (They're gonna get thrown out) I wanna stay home today (Don't want no company, no way) Yeah, yeah, yeah
Left with nothing but low notes from being woefully out of practice, Bill keeps singing along with the chorus. To his surprise, he’s enjoying this.
A minute ago, he would’ve found himself too self-conscious too bounce slightly to the tempo on a stage. He quickly nods to Gill in an unspoken agreement that he hopes he can understand as the next verse starts with the hisuian growlithe singing solo:
A simple life's my cup of tea I don't need nobody but me What I wouldn't give just to be left alone
Gill got the memo. He steps back as the orange growlithe sings the verse on his own:
I wAnt to be a millionaire someday But know what it feels like to give it away Watch me march to the beat of my own drum
That single off key voice crack at the start of his solo threatened to murder Bill on the spot. Powering through, his confidence starts swelling.
And it's over and over and over again Same old day, same situation My happiness rears back as if to say…
I wanna stay home today (“I don't wanna go out”, Bill takes over this time, surprising Gill) If anyone comes my way (They're gonna get thrown out) I wanna stay home today (Don't want no company, no way) Yeah, yeah, yeah
It happens again.
Something dreadful is out there.
There’s something In the distance beyond the entrance to the festival, in the middle of the all-consuming darkness scantily lit by the moon. The shadow looks back at Bill with no eyes to discern. It’s as if the moonlight wasn’t affecting its silhouette.
It’s the same one from when the twins arrived in this world.
The same presence that keeps appearing.
The same feeling of despair.
“Hey there,” Bill ponders as though his thoughts can somehow reach the shadow. “Leave me be for once this time, will you?”
…
Without breaking a sweat, Bill returns from his unnoticed reverie, finding himself having sung the chorus perfectly.
Rain, rain everyday now Away… (Everyone just stay away now) Come another… (Come another day!)
I wanna stay home today (I wanna stay home today) I wanna stay home (stay home)... stay home…
I wanna stay home today (I don't wanna go out) If anyone comes to play (They're gonna get thrown out) I wanna stay home today (Don't want no company, no way) Yeah, yeah, yeah
Everyone bursts into cheers. Totodile even whistles.
It had been years since Gill had seen a smile that earnest on his sibling.
Countless beasts gather on the day of the festival, cheering on the hisuian growlithe performing on stage with the help of many talented musicians, Politoed and Porygon involved on it. The former in particular displayed what was possibly the most beautiful string solo that the locals had ever witnessed. And even though the floating pink and blue statue that was Porygon raised some eyebrows, no one could deny the novelty and variety of his unique sounds. In fact, he was clearly the main draw of the number in spite of the overall great performance.
Between the countless compliments from guildmembers as well as from strangers, the eyes of Porygon had never been as shy and flustered as they were that day, that’s for sure.
Once Gill’s voice ended on a high note, the sounds were immediately deafened by the cheers of the sea that was the residents of Capim.
Bill sits behind the crowd, watching his brother from afar. Due to him not being present for most rehearsals as well as reluctant objections from the supervisors aiming for quality assurance, the brothers did not sing together that day.
Regret comes to Bill as he sees the musicians on stage wave goodbye to make way for the next number.
…
“Oh,” Bill turns around to find the Fletchling from the other day. “Hello.”
Bean tilts his head, as though inquiring why the growlithe brothers had not performed together.
“We couldn’t arrange for me to sing like this on such short notice,” he explains. “Not that I wanted to anyway. Still…”
Silent as ever, Bean steps a edges closer to him.
“...I uh… well, maybe I should’ve been there for him. Way back, I should have let him have his way and drag me to do a number. But it’s in the past, right?”
Bill turns his attention to the empty stage, ready to be primed for another number.
“I don’t know when I’ll wake up and see myself at home, not looking like this. If ever. But from now on, I will smile with the blessings that I have. And… I’ll try my best to bless the people that I know. What do you think, is that a good answer?”
The fletchling’s nod is the most Bill gets for a response.
“So… uh…”
…
Already, the next number starts with no signs of his brother on stage.
“...do you sing?”
Bean shakes his head.
“I’ll choose to believe you’re a liar, then.”
The bird lets out the tiniest of huffs in a way that Bill interprets as a chuckle.
...
“...Thank you, Bean.”