not even like joking around like genuinely if you're also Going Through It right now i hope stuff gets better for you. like. everything sucks in a way that feels like it's completely out of my/our control and it feels like a hill too steep to climb
Sonic usually prides himself in his chill and easy going nature and his calm demeanour, it's not really that easy to get him riled up. He doesn't like being angry either, his love for freedom includes feeling free too — not burdened down with some infuriating people and their meaningless rants or whatever engaging acts they participate in and absolutely not any of it being given more than a second long stay in his mind, no. Sonic doesn't like that. He prefers to stay clear of such things as much as he can.
If the bulging vein on his forehead has to say anything, unfortunately, this is not one of those situations where he can just up and leave.
No because he's stuck here, forced to sit around this stupid dinner table by the absurdity of the situation. Really, how did he even get here? Why did he let it get to this point? When has Sonic ever conformed to the groundless rules of a stupid village to solve a problem before? Why was this one any different? In fact, by all logical means, Sonic shouldn't even have bothered to ask these villagers for anything at all. He should've gotten the work done and over with, giving very little — which is none — thought to the customs and formalities of these absolute nutcases.
This is Westside Island after all.
He shouldn't have expected anything else from these guys.
Sonic knows very little of what these lunatics did to Tails in his earlier years and what he does know of it already makes him want to burn the entire village down. Right now? The urge is stronger than ever.
Today he has learnt a lot more about what exactly they did to his little brother than he has in the four years of knowing and raising Tails.
The only thing keeping Sonic from lashing out right now is his little brother's small hand resting on top of his own.
He doesn't know how Tails is keeping his composure right now because Chaos knows Sonic's ever-deepening scowl is going to become something these people are always going to associate him with. The kid is acting like the constant insults and accusations don't even affect him — which is, yeah, good! They shouldn't because they're meaningless lies hurled at his way by people who don't even possess a quarter of his IQ. But this is getting out of hand and Sonic doesn't know how long he can tell himself that these words don't matter because they're not aimed at him, they're aimed at his little brother.
His little brother who just so happens to be the smartest, kindest, bravest person in the whole world. His little brother that these people abandoned as a literal baby, starving and abusing him to the point Sonic still has damage left to undo after all these years. His little brother who he will not hear any foul words about.
Tails’ grip on his hand tightens.
He must've noticed the hedgehog's quills sharpening. The kit's signalling him to calm down.
Right… He can't let his anger overcome him now. Not after they're so close to finishing their job here and going back home, hopefully never having to even look in this place's general direction again. He can't forget the actual reason he agreed to talk with these people; to get information since the duo aren't allowed to investigate the situation freely as outsiders.
Fate must really hate Sonic though because it just so happens to be that the guy who can actually give them any valuable information is someone Sonic never thought he'd ever come face to face with in a million years.
Tails’ father.
(He cringes internally, oh how wrong it feels to refer to the man as his kid's father.)
The resemblance between father and son is uncanny; no matter how much Sonic tries to tell himself this guy is just another fox, he can never convince himself as such. Not when he has the same ocean blue eyes, sparkling with wisdom and tactic. The same shade of orange fur dissolves into dark browns and blacks at the tips of his ears and between his eyes. The way he talks, the way he sits, the way he moves and the way his singular tail swishes behind him gently. His voice, his manners, his accent, his tone — it's all Tails.
It's infuriating.
It feels unsettling.
Because this man is so unlike his little brother that he feels uneasy under his gaze, that shade of soft blue doesn't deserve to hold such contempt and malice in it. His facial features resemble Tails’ so much and yet he scowls and sneers where the kit is always laughing and smiling — the man may be related to his little brother and his little brother may have gotten his appearance from the older fox but there's definitely a stark contrast between them. The difference between one's unforgiving cruelty and the other's mellow kindness is shocking when placed side by side.
“That's the most I can tell you at this hour,” the man says as if he's granted them great knowledge when barely any of what he just said was something other than an insult directed towards Tails, “I wish I could do more to help you but as the village's rules stand, there's very little I can allow you to do here when you've brought that thing along, Mr. Hedgehog.”
For whatever reason, people on Westside Island like to tell Sonic that they would've helped him as much as they can if it wasn't for the fact that he brought his partner with him. They're so adamant that everything would've been such a streamlined process if it was only Sonic asking to investigate the village.
As if.
He knows talking back to the man would later have Tails scolding him but the temptation is too great to not jab at the nonchalant fox, “You know, maybe you wouldn't have all these problems suddenly spiking up if you didn't treat a literal child like some thing to be disposed of.”
“I believe you don't understand our history at all.” The guy has the audacity to sigh, “Treating a curse as a child is welcoming death with open arms. In fact, I believe all these problems are suddenly spiking up because you decided to bring that freak back here.”
And oh boy, that makes Sonic’s left eye twitch in a way that gives away the fact that he's about to throw hands.
He would've too, if it weren't for the sudden surprise of Tails standing up to his father.
“I'm not a freak…” His voice is small, but so so certain and it makes Sonic's heart swell with pride. A small smile graces the hedgehog's muzzle as he gives Tails’ hand a squeeze.
Unfortunately, the moment is short lived.
Because of course Tails’ father has something to shoot them down with again.
“And is that why your mother died, Miles? Is that how you're going to kill Sonic too?”
The room goes silent.
Sonic feels Tails' vice-like grip on his hand tightens to the point it must've hurt at those words. He can feel the kit's claws through his gloves, as he holds Sonic's hand like his life depends on it.
Instinctively, Sonic turns his head just enough to take a look at the younger boy sitting to his left.
Tails has his head hanging low, his bangs cast a shadow upon his eyes but Sonic still catches sight of big, fat tears rolling down his muzzle.
And that's it.
That's the final straw.
Sonic doesn't know what overcomes him next.
His mind goes blank for a moment as his body moves on its own, taking his hand away from Tails and putting his entire weight into his fist as his curled up hand connects with the older fox's jaw with such force it knocks him out of his chair, leaving him disgracefully sprawled on the wooden floor. A pained noise escapes the man as he crashes down with the chair he's been sitting on and oh, is it music to Sonic's ears.
The older fox holds his muzzle, his glove staining red as Sonic takes a slow and calculated step forward — a dangerous aura surrounds the hedgehog, emerald green glinting with so much hatred and ill intent that it sends shivers running down the man's spine.
Sonic raises his fist again and Chaos knows he wouldn't have let the fox scramble with just a few punches, he doubts the man could even get up on his own after what Sonic wants to do to him but fate seems to be in the fox's favour as Tails grabs Sonic's upper arm and effectively pulls him back.
“Sonic, stop it!” The kit still has tears in his eyes, his voice cracks a bit but he manages to mask it well in favour of stopping his older brother from possibly committing first degree murder.
Tails drags Sonic back to his side but the hedgehog still has his murderous glare fixated on the older fox who has barely managed to even sit back up on the floor.
“That's enough, we're leaving. Come on.” Tails speaks fast, his eyes dashing between Sonic and the door as takes a big step and tries to pull his older brother with him. Except Sonic doesn't budge, still glaring down at his father who has denied to match him with one of his own. Tails looks at the hedgehog, almost pleading if it weren't for his stern tone, “Sonic.”
The addressed hedgehog opens his mouth to say something, seemingly to the older mobian but decides against it when he feels Tails pull at his hand again.
Sonic lets out a huff, brows knitting.
He disregards his anger and frustration to listen to Tails — Tails wants to leave, he's clearly too uncomfortable in here for Sonic to be pulling these stunts.
“Let's go.” Sonic says, interlocking his fingers with Tails’ as they both leave the place.
Mr. Prower thinks things would've been better if Sonic didn't bring Tails with him? If it weren't for Tails, Sonic would've made sure Tails actually didn't have a father anymore.
If Eggman's behavior is cruel and evil, but he simultaneously has a love for theme parks and other seemingly "innocent" concepts, I imagine that Stone is the opposite.
Stone is outwardly sweet and polite, but has a morbid fascination with creating horror.
Either way, both products of their imaginations are menacing.
