Already halfway to the destined spot by the time Hugh announced his trick, Twigs slunk along the aisle and up to the theater’s exit, out into the noisy casino in a matter of moments. His prize, his girl, was no doubt going to be waiting for him by the time he reached the location he was assured she’d end up at--and how excited would she be? She got chosen for the trick, and all because of him. Surely would brighten up their date a little bit. It had to, he knew how much attention his girl craved and needed. If only he’d found her sooner...

Prowling along the extravagantly decorated hallways and past Pokemon who were either about to make it big or, the more likely of the two, lose all their earnings, Twigs pondered how Lady Fate had treated him. Years he’d gone looking for this girl, his girl, and she’d been right in Tao Village all along... for how long, exactly? After all, he had visited her parents more than once, he had visited them both many times and they hadn’t a clue where she was. So far as he could tell, they weren’t lying. The dad’s telltale Tail Twitch of Anger (as PK had often called it) appeared at the mention of his missing daughter’s name. Twigs thought that he was both embarrassed by the girl’s less-than-noble actions and by the fact that she was nowhere to be found. What was his name again? Aguav? Agava? Something like that. Didn’t he have arrangements still set up with that temperamental Kecleon? The answer was yes. Ah... that didn’t matter... all that mattered was getting to his girl.

And he saw her, there, slumped over, sitting in the middle of the carpet. Huh, odd. Her eyes were half lids, but that didn’t mean much for a Kecleon. Perhaps she was lost in thought? That had to be it. Yes, definitely. That she ignored the rowdy crowd of Piplup and Prinpup, singing some terrible version of a popular ditty around the Bay... well, it was rather uncharacteristic of her. His girl was always the first to tell a Pokemon what was for, and if they should shut their filthy traps or not. Yes, his! He’d reclaimed her! He’d reclaimed a Miss Payapa Kiwi, and he would keep it this way. True, she may have seemed a bit reluctant to follow through with going on the date at first, but she eventually made time. And it was going to be wonderful. Maybe after enough convincing, he could get her to leave that rotting village and stay in his villa for the rest of her days. Yes. He would like that very much, he would.

Finally, coming to a halt right beside his darling, Twigs spoke. “Dearest, why don’t we continue on to our meal? You must be famished after such a show.”

Either she didn’t hear him due to the noise of the place, or she was ignoring him. The latter option simply could not be true, so he lowered his head to meet her sitting form and spoke again. “Dear? Wouldn’t you like some fish? I know I would.”

At first, her eyes remained dull. After a moment, though, they shined with recognition and she seemed to be lifted of whatever fugue that had captured her mind during the show. Her mouth hung partially open, the crook twitching slightly, but she seemed all there. She was regarding him wildly. Was she perhaps upset...? No, that was foolish. There had been nothing to be upset over. It was a little unnerving to watch, but it would likely fade as her appetite was satisfied. After all, who wasn’t a little antsy while hungry? Twigs couldn’t think of anyone. Yes, her mood would clear with a full belly. That was what he decided.

Slowly, she rose. Maybe the most disturbing part was her color. It had been black when he reunited with his lost love, but now... even in these bright, warm lights, she looked... dusty, and ill. The dull sheen of abandoned cobwebs. Cobwebs...

It was okay, though; he loved her inner beauty, it didn’t matter if she seemed older than the aeons right here and now in this bustling money pit. He loved the way she worked... the way she regarded others... her calculating, crafty mind. That was what he wanted. And it was his, again. All he had to do? It was simple. She really seemed to care about the village, for whatever reason. He wouldn’t try or pretend to understand it. So, he helped from his own funds. Well... he understood how much trouble she went through planning and replanning and arranging and building. All it did was take her time away from him... and this was not forgivable. He arranged for her to accept a lump sum of money; it was the only way that she would be pried from her village.

Now that he’d gotten her away from that dump once, it would be successively easier every other time. That’s how it worked, that’s really how it worked. Get your foot in, don’t leave. She’d fight it, that was absolutely a given. That was her nature. But, he would guide and coax her into what was best, into staying at his villa, into leaving that land of serfs. What more could she possibly want? Money wasn’t an object, it never was. They could go anywhere, do anything! He, majestic gentlecat, and she, fiery and fierce temptress, together, as it ought to be. Hadn’t he dreamed of this day every moment she’d been missing from his sights? Why, yes. He had.

Though there was an itching in his mind, a little signal that something wasn’t quite right and it might never be, that perhaps his girl had been broken, he chose to ignore it. For, you see, our prissy feline here had become overwhelmed and lost in his desire to reclaim a past vision... so much so that, in fact, he let himself overlook her ill coloration. Perhaps-- no, no, almost assuredly, that monocled mushroom that with whom you and I are so familiar (and whose loss we still mourn, do not forget) would have understood what these colors meant, for he had seen our little Kecleon in every color under the sun and knew all too well what each signified.

Alas, Twigs was no Shroomsworth. Though, I suppose you will see that for yourself in due time.

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Part 5 of "The Dates"
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