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“Alphie! Charlie!” Britany yelled, her voice echoing across the metal of the S.S. DRAKE, “Emergency meeting!”. Alph came skidding into the control room, bumping into the cold wall. Charlie came shortly after, very much not panicked like the younger man, rubber ducky in arm.
“W-what’s up?” Alph yelped.
“Something is very wrong here” she said, ever stern.
“Oh sh- crap! Is the ship failing? Did I not repair something right? Are we doomed to pass in the freezing, unfeeling embrace of space, forever condemned to a vast vortex, black as pitch?”
“I- oh my god, Alphie, no, not that, no” Britany replied, and then quieted down a bit and said, “are you good?”
Alph eased up considerably, giving a small laugh and a “oh, alrighty”. It made sense that Alph was tense, having to deal with beasts, collecting fruit, and the ships upkeep most importantly. The S.S. DRAKE was an old ship, a product of his grandfather’s heyday all those years ago; that lead to it needing quite a bit of maintenance. The ship’s crash didn’t help with that at all.
Charlie patted Alph’s head with a hearty chuckle, laughing, “See, Bud! Nothing to worry about! Brit just wanted to annoy us.”
“Hey! No- I do have a reason for calling you all here-!” she huffed, “it’s about the juice!”
Alph started to look stressed again- “Did we lose some? Oh no- did some rot?”
“Alphie, you’re all good. You’re an angel,” she turned her body in Charlie’s direction, her voice becoming heavier, “Charlie, however…”
“Eueh! Wadda hell I do?!”
“You! Have been! Mixing the juice! And it’s been absolutely DIS-GUS-TEENG!”
“What do you mean?! My smoothies are amazing!”
“Scaly custard and dusk pustules? Really? Oh, or should I bring up the-”
Between the two’s bickering Alph chimed in with an agreement to Brittany’s statement and an apology to Charlie, however, this went largely unheard. Charlie continued with his insistence that mixing fruits with little to no regard as to what the result tasted like was in fact, a valid way to make their rations and not totally inane.
“Hmph, it gets us our nutrition well and good, so what’s the problem with it? It’s what we soldiers did back out on the front lines.”
“I literally just said why, you big pile of meat and muscles!” Brittiany spat, “it tastes and feels terrible!”
Alph slinked away out of the control room to the cabins, it’d be at least half an hour before they stopped their bickering, and it was getting late, after all. After taking a quick rinse in the shower, he slipped into bed and drifted off into sleep, wondering if the two were still arguing over smoothies. As much as he didn’t want to make Charlie feel bad, Alph did have to agree that Charlie shouldn’t own a juice bar. Not now, not ever.
The next morning, Alph watched as Louie bumped into the walls and wondered if he could make some good mixes. Probably not, considering that Hocotations cared more for treasure then taste. Still, Alph couldn’t help but wonder.
The day was relativity uneventful, all things considered. The Koppaites set out to collect the rest of the fruits in the Garden of Hope. They didn’t lose a mass of Pikmin (thank god!) nor did they find anything worth raving about. There was a bit of damage to the S.S. DRAKE’s outer casing -courtesy of the crash- that Alph had to repair, but even then, it wasn’t all that stressful. It could honestly be described as peaceful, well, as peaceful as PNF-404 could get. Not that it could get very serene. Alph was in need of a bit more laid-back day, though, so this was like a holy blessing from whatever divine being watched over PNF-404. Surprising how the Koppaites were in its favor, considering how much fauna that had met its demise at their hands. Er, the pikmin’s hands, thrown by the Koppaite’s hands. Perhaps it was a malevolent god who hated its creations, who knows.
As evening approached, so did ‘dinner’ made by Charlie. As Alph went to change into his loungewear, an old t-shirt with the logo of the Poipuk Collage of Engineering and plain pajama pants. Before he could do so, however, a pale arm reached for him, pulling him into a storage closet in the ship.
“Auwgh! Who’s there!?” he yelped, putting his arms up in defense, although considering his stature it wouldn’t do much.
“Alphie! It’s me, be quiet!” Brittany said through gritted teeth, slapping a hand over Alph’s mouth, “Charlie can’t hear us, okay?”
“Brittiany? What? Why?”
“Okay- Alphie- hear me out, k?”
“Mhm…?”
“I’m sure you’re all too aware of Charlie’s, erm, abilities, correct?”
“Yeah...?”
“And you know how he won’t ever listen to me, correct?” she said, and then mumbled “I’m the captain this- I’m the captain that-”
“Yes…?’
“But he listens to you, Alphie! He likes you! You gotta help me!” she whined, still making an effort to stay quiet as possible.
“Help you? How?”
“Perfect question!” Brittiany smirked, “I need you to convince him to stop, since he won’t bat an eye at me.”
It did make sense, Charlie was particularly fond of Alph, and probably would listen to him if he asked Charlie to put some thought into the rations or at least let him or Brittiany take over for the time being. But Alph didn’t want to hurt Charlie’s feelings. The man was incredibly prideful and- while he didn’t show it- actually did get hurt by negative opinions on him. If Alph were to accept this offer and help Brittany, Alph would have to be really gentle with how he worded it…
“So, whaddya think?” Brittany asked, leaning against a pipe in the closet.
Alph made up his mind, as much as he valued Charlie as a crewmate, he valued his stomach a bit more, “Sure, I’ll help”
“Ohmygod thank you Alphie.”
“’Eya there pal, you turned up just in time!” Charlie said, holding out a cup of brownish juice with a large grin on his face, “To-nite’s menu is a delic- “
“Uhm, actually, about that,” Alph cut Charlie off, “don’t you, um, think that you could try out some new recipes”
“Huh? Do you think they’re gross too, chum?” Charlie said as his smile started to falter.
“W-what? No! Never!”
Alph offered a little chuckle in attempt to lighten the mood; Charlie heard this, and his grin came back, laughing, “Hah! Just Brit being Brit, then.”
“Haha, yup…” Alph said, “although, Brittany would probably respect you a lot more as a captain if you two could get along. Y’know, like, military morale, right?”
“Hmm… I guess so… but…” Charlie pondered, looking down at Alph, “How do I get her to get along with me? It seems like she dislikes everything.”
“You got to talk to her and collaborate! And by that, I don’t mean arguing,” Alph replied. This conversation was turning into something non juice related, but it was probably for the better. Having the two of them get along would really help with their mission of collecting seeds for Koppai and finding the cosmic-drive key.
“I mean, if you say so, friend, I’ll give it a try.”
“Great! I’ll be on my way then; it’s getting awfully late.”
“It’s only a quarter ‘till seven, what about dinner?” Charlie yelled, but it was too late, as Alph had already ran into the metal hallways of the S.S. DRAKE, about to tell Brittany the same thing he told Charlie. Hopefully, they’d start getting along for once.
Hopefully.