“You mean you’re slow?” Kazooie, ignorant of the possible contrary, inquired doubtfully at Slayer’s expense when he excused himself from participation on account of his more controlled bearing.
“Of course not!” Banjo interjected with subtle elevation in his tone to scold her for her thoughtlessly direct speech.
“I’m sure he’s just… diligent, is all.” Though, he would be correct in his assertion, he wasn’t
actually sure of that himself. Still, the apology would probably register clear with the vampire, as well as the fact that this was simply part of their dynamic; that no real offense was intended to him. Moreover, the talk of pace reminded Banjo that they would face a similar issue.
“By the way, can we still fly?”“Afraid not,” she responded shaking her head.
“Haven’t had to do it in so long that I must have lost it. Sorry, Banjo.” There was a discernible sense of mild disappointment in her voice at the end of her statement.
“It’s okay, Kazooie,” he reassured, casting a glance at the two riding what looked like a giant chicken as they left through the nearest exit.
“*sigh* Guess I’ll be getting some needed exercise,” he said with a sigh (of course) as he took a second to stretch his arms. Their attention returned to Slayer as he spoke his intention of adjourning to the castle spa; a plan made all the more understandable by the fact that he was apparently part of the heroic mission that the others were on, to which Banjo silently nodded in concurrence. Go figure. He then politely offered for the bear and bird to join him in relaxation.
“As appealing as that sounds, we’ve got somewhere else we need to be,” said Kazooie, obviously referencing the effort to rescue Mario’s spirit and headwear.
“This ‘hero’ stuff is kind of our business, too. Besides, we usually take our reward after the work’s done.”“Kazooie’s right. We hate to turn you down for now, but we’re gonna go try to help them however we can first. Though, if you want, we can still take you up on that afterwards,” Banjo proposed, not wishing to wholly reject the favor. A moment more would be spared before Banjo and Kazooie’s departure to allow for Slayer to entertain the idea however he saw fit. Afterwards, they would take their leave, heading out the same way as the bird riders. Of course, a brisk jog would be the most Banjo could manage on his own, so they would have no hope of catching them at their current rate. Fortunately, there was a light feather trail the duo could follow to save time on painstakingly combing the city for the thief. A shame the feathers were a soft yellow instead of gold, making them functionally useless as pick-ups. Though, with their presumed reset, they were presently unlikely to be capable to performing the Wonderwing technique again, regardless. As they took their first steps out of the gardens and onto the Platform City streets, the two began to lightly converse on the matter at hand.
“So, you think there’s any chance he’s right; that they might already have this taken care of?” Kazooie wondered aloud to Banjo, curious as to whether or not they would get there to find their work done for them.
“I sure hope so. Otherwise, this is going to be a long day.”
Fox had asked himself what Wario’s true motive was, now wishing he hadn’t. The answer given couldn’t have been any more absurd. Was he hearing that right? All this fuss just so the already rich, overfed villain well within his means could have his grossly overindulgent meal paid for--something he could have done himself hundreds of times over? Was he really that greedy and selfish, or just that stupid? Of course, his sycophantic younger brother would beg to disagree, proclaiming brilliance in Wario’s asinine plot. It was made all the better by the fact that he inadvertently gave them a good idea of where to look next by disclosing King Dedede as his benefactor. Fox would be sure to hang on to this information for later into the negotiation, should they gain a more clear situational advantage.
On that note, the voice of James Varrock, a fellow squadmate whose name Fox was just hearing for the first time, came through to inform him that he was positioned to take out Wario on command. If only it was that simple. The situation was slightly more complicated than Fox could elaborate on without alerting the bloated offender. Once again, he was forced to wait for breaks in conversation coupled with momentary distractions to break radio silence, and even then, he could only barely afford to do so.
“Hold,” He ordered simply, speaking softly under the sound of Wario mainlining pasta for all of the second or two that it took him. As unsatisfactory as it was, the monosyllabic command would have to do, but it should suffice to let the nightstalker to know to hold his fire.
After finishing his mouthful, Wario began rambling on about how his past experience--allegedly as a “hero”--made him fit for Mario’s mantle, and he, too, blamed Luigi for the Mushroom Kingdom hero’s death. Word got out that far, did it? Of course the rivalrous copycat would think this a good excuse. He was not only without heart or shame, but arrogant too. He even went so far as to end his farcical appeal with proclaimed intent to don the proverbial “red cap”, as if to say that he was somehow entitled to.
“Easier done if you didn’t sell it,” Fox cut in sharply as the glutton resumed inhaling his entree,
“along with the soul of the man who wore it. Did it ever occur to you that they weren’t yours to sell?!” Such wasn’t the conduct of a hero, so it made sense to Fox that Wario be called out and reprimanded for it.
“For one making claims to heroism, you don’t seem to understand how it works. Desecration, theft, duplicity, extortion--against your demanded allies, no less. I’d say you’re not exactly off to a good start.” Fox acted to budge the would-be “hero” by taking jabs at his ego-founded logic as a segue into the only compromise he was willing to offer, if only because circumstances called for it.
“If you want to set a better example, stand down and surrender yourself to the Council. Let them decide what they want to do with you. They’re the ones you have to go through. I invite you to explain your ‘heroic intent’ to them,” he said almost derisively with an undertone of sarcasm accenting the statement.
“I’m sure they’ll see to reason,” he ended similarly in a “who knows, maybe they will” sort of manner. The idea presented was that Wario could attempt to lend a character appeal, however superficial, through humbling submission to the powers that be. It was a prospect Fox had no real faith in, so he looked for Wario to take it as a challenge, if nothing else. In the best case, it gets him out of the way, but at the very least, it would abate their present predicament.
Anticipating whatever reinforcements were on their way to arrive shortly, Fox, keeping in mind the information given away earlier, expected that they may be able to bolster enough leverage through manpower to pressure Wario into backing down, should Fox’s gambit (or any and all other attempts at diplomacy) fail. This, however, was merely a second to last resort, with the actual use of force being the
very last. Hopefully, the situation would simply dissolve on its own without it coming down to either. All the while, Fox’s aim would remain warily trained on Wario, not shifting so much as a centimeter out of his way in the absence of any immediate reason to.