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"Ooooh, sounds saucy!" Poipole leaned against Potluck's thigh. "So, what the deal, then? Lovers on the run? Former bandits turned good guys? Intergalactic buddy-cop duo where you're the fun-loving, donut-stuffing cop and Maple's the hardass, by-the-book stickler who needs to learn to have some...

Poipole had found a new object of fascination, poking one of the patches of scales on Potluck's hind leg. "So, like, are you Pop's bootleg?"

"Oh my god. Who shows up to a party just to exposition dump?" Poipole took one of the pieces of meat of his needle and plopped it on Shiron's head. "Here, eat something. Maybe it'll inspire you." And he flew off before anyone could respond.

Poipole made his presence known by using his middle head-needle to skewer several pieces of meat and float away with them. Bahamut was nowhere to be found.

"If that shade is supposed to be a manifestation of your psyche... then you will never convince me you're anything other than a hatchling." Bahamut strolled by Owen, with Poipole's goopy, flattened form wrapped around the black spikes on his right forepaw. Though there was a hint of sarcasm to...

It was not good. But Owen had taken enough of a verbal shellacking for one morning, so he pocketed that thought.

"No, this is a travesty!" Bahamut growled.

"Ah, I see I have a 'hater.'" Poipole pat Celeste's shoulder. His monotone voice returned. "Don't worry. Your displeasure only makes me stron— ack!" Bahamut crushed Poipole under a foreleg. "That will be enough of that." He glared at S'more. "When is Chip coming? I want an explanation...

Bahamut looked at Icetales. Oh no. Why did the kit have to open his mouth? He was priming himself for— no, wait, yup, Poipole was already in front of him. He puffed out his cheeks a gooey crown appeared on top of his middle needle. "My goodness! Baha, you didn't tell me you were keeping...

"Isn't it obvious? She wants OwO to feel like a big boy!" Poipole snickered into his hands. "Please stop," Bahamut growled.

"Unoriginal. Don't we have enough charmander here already?" Despite floating, Poipole lay on his side and yawned into his hand.

"Oh? You mean Darkwhite?" Poipole put his nubs against his face and rubbed vigorously. He suddenly had much brighter eyes with tiny purple bishie sparkles and a bigger smile. "I knoooow, right! At first, Baha Blast was so grumpity-grump I thought I was gonna turn into Braixen to make him more...

"Aww, what's the matter, Grumpy Gus?" Having evaded Bahamut's ESP, Poipole was now in front of Celeste. "Oh, wait, I think I get it. The pointy horn. The scowl. You're one of those edgelord absol!" He put his right hand up by his head and crossed his left arm over to the right side of his...

"Aww, look at you!" Poipole escaped Bahamut's grip and zoomed over to Owen. "Using big-boy SAT words. How adorable!" He noogied Owen's forehead. "Please, Diyem, just strike me down now."

"Whoa, whoa! Not true!" Poipole zipped over to Cuicatl. "I'll have you know that if I make myself all big and naganadely... I become the fiercest dragon in all the cosm—" Bahamut clamped a hand over Poipole's mouth. He squirmed against Bahamut's grasp. "Unless someone has an immediate answer...

Bahamut's core and eyes reddened. "Why is everyone so quick to assume something malicious when I'm involved?" He stomped a forepaw on the ground. "I haven't done anything to the stone other than keep it on my person and—" A high-pitched squawk echoed from Bahamut's back. His red eyes turned...

"No. This bloody enchanted rock feels like it's going to burn through my—" Bahamut stopped. "Wait, do I even have flesh? Or am I just a metal cat?" He tapped his forepaws together. "Seems like met— ow!" A sizzle echoed through the room. Bahamut slammed his hand against the stone, only to yank...

Bahamut's stone continued vibrating... and the clinks against his prism armor let off sounds like he was calling everyone's attention to make a toast. "Enough already," he hissed in a whisper.

Bahamut indulged the grass-types' curiosity for a bit, but once he realized how meaningless it was, he slinked to the back of the room to lay down in a sunbeam. Most of his energy had gone to making a portal. The dumb fusion-dragon hit him a few times, but the blows had barely hurt. There was...

“Oh, brother. Just put them on my back.” Bahamut loomed over his smaller teammates. “Mind the stone.”