Fox glared with critical intent at Wario as he mounted a fallible defense for his despicable actions. He was fully aware of what he did wrong and the issues taken with it; he simply didn’t care, and his given justifications and manner of expression only pointed to that. The speciesist slur didn’t bother Fox, especially weighed against the reasoning presented. If all he was out for was money and glory (the latter of which he already had, despite his choice of words), he could have very well just carried out the mission on his own rather than involving and wasting the time of actual heroes just to embellish his desired spectacle. They were soldiers, not rockstars! Did he honestly expect to gain celebrity by proxy through them, or did he perhaps get himself into more trouble than he could handle alone? It was telling of how he looked at it, yet it somehow said so very little beyond what had already been established about him.
In loudly projecting his fantasization about his glory hunt that he would have been better off going on himself, Wario further divulged mission details that could--at anyone’s risk--be used to cut him out of the equation. First the ‘who’ (Dedede), now the ‘where’ (Dream Land). It seemed he couldn’t help but unwittingly give them everything they need to send off a squad to accomplish their new mission without him if they felt like it, effectively sacrificing a third of his potential leverage without realizing it. Naturally, one should come as obvious given the other, but had he thought about it, he could have instead taken the chance to mislead them. Of course, he could still just as well be doing exactly that. Fox doubted that to be so, considering it would have required at least a slightly greater degree of intelligence than he was displaying. Not that it mattered. Wario was unreasonable, and Fox was unyielding. Despite Luigi’s well-intended, but misguided efforts at compromising, it appeared that they would be unable to reach one.
“Then we’re at an impasse,” Fox started as Wario rested his case. Even if it wasn’t going to convince him of anything, he thought to enlighten the Wario of the flaw in his thinking to apply a little more pressure.
“You could have just done everything by yourself if you were simply looking to bolster your fame and fortune. Now that you’ve told us who to look for, and where to find them, you don’t have much left to stop us from going without you, because let’s face it, we both know you can’t stop all of us.” Fox was interrupted by yet another instance of the Wario Bros.’s collective clumsiness. Reacting strongly at first to the portly crook’s sudden aggression toward a hitherto unnoticed new entrant, Fox’s aim jolted into a more deliberate position, directed now at the narrow space between Wario’s eyes, and he was dangerously close to putting a red beam or two in it until he once again collapsed disgracefully to the floor. The pilot lowered his aim and head, and shook it with a frustrated sigh.
“Case in point,” he uttered, raising his gun with one hand and moving the child back with the other. What the hell were they doing here, anyways? Whoever brought them should have known better than to do so, but if they were going to be here for whatever reason, he thought it better that they stay behind him and the other heroes. Assuming he would pay any mind, Fox continued as the two struggled to get Wario up.
“So there are two ways you can still go about this peacefully: without us, in which case you get a head start, or through the Council, by explaining to them why you deserve to be one of us. Either one will get you out the door and past us unscathed. Besides, we’ve already told you, they’re who you have to talk to, not us, so that’s the most we can give you. If it was up to me, we wouldn’t be negotiating,” Fox emphasized on his own behalf as he continued to glare at Wario down his blaster’s iron sights.
“You have your ultimatum; I suggest you accept it.” Barely a second or two after Fox’s declaration, Guile and Rosalina marched into the restaurant. The displeased ambassador entombed Wario and sent him bouncing about the room like rubber immediately after he hesitated and failed to produce the stolen belongings of a dead man. Expecting now that the situation was more or less under control, Fox let off his guard for the first time since entering the building and lowered his weapon once more. Guile stopped her before she could continue to address the villains demands. It seems he picked up Fox’s transmission, and thankfully just before things could escalate. Though, he was hardly expecting that the major was so patient with him where wasn’t, or that he would actually accept his proposal, much to Rosalina’s understandable chagrin. Fair is fair, however. He said Wario should speak with the Council, and he did.
“Stand down,” he issued to the Varrock. The brothers got what they wanted… for now, so they weren’t to be harmed. Naturally, they gloated about their unexpected acceptance onto the team. Fox casually spun his blaster into its holster as he addressed the rejoicing duo once more.
“Try not to sound so happy about it,” he said before turning away to leave.
“Unless you’re keen on the taking orders from me, I wouldn’t get too excited.” He peaked over his shoulder and smirked at the thought before walking out. He was mostly bluffing, of course. While he did hold a slightly higher position and have actual leadership experience under him, he was aware that there was no guarantee that he would be in charge them or anyone, but if there was any chance that his momentary mind game would visibly perturb the less than welcomed new additions to the team, it would at least be worth a look of worry on their faces. Though, it would falter should either of them have the clarity of thought to remember that Fox actually had integrity and pride as a leader and would never make a point of hazing anyone put under his command, no matter how otherwise unscrupulous they might be.
With that, he left, following loosely behind Cloud back the the castle. On his way he passed by an oddly dressed honey bear going the other way, who looked like he just finished a long run, but he paid him little mind, looking past the ursine as he walked. If they were here for the food or the action, they would find themselves disappointed on both fronts to find neither.
The suit Banjo had been given for the funeral was ripped from where he had to flex while running. He finished his jog to the end of the trail, slowing to a stop at the sidewalk just outside before hunching over and resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He glanced over briefly at the large avian anxiously waiting outside that led them there before looking back down at the pavement, still taking a minute to recover.
“*pant* *pant* This used to be nothing, *pant*” he spoke between slighly heavy breaths, refering obviously to how he used to be more athletic during their heyday.
“Feels about the same to me,” Kazooie added.
“You didn’t... *pant* have to run here. *pant*” “Exactly,” Kazooie replied cheekily.
“*pant* You carry me next time. *pant*” He was half kidding, for she would eventually be doing her share of that anyways.
Strange that they would arrive at a restaurant in pursuit of a thief. Looking in it was hard to tell exactly what was going on, as Banjo and Kazooie had only just arrived at the end of it. The table was broken and the occupants were scattered, two of which looked particularly important. Whatever took place in there must have been chaotic, but it must have diffused by now if two recognizable heroes--who they passed on the way--were leaving. Banjo simply waited on the next person (or people) to exit so he and Kazooie could learn more from them about what was going on.
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Izurich
