A/N: *brushes dust off profile* This place is gathering cobwebs! I am so sorry, everyone . . . did anyone bring a vacuum, by any chance?
"Mysteriously, Tippi seems to have known Dimentio before the events of Super Paper Mario. She recognizes him immediately on their first encounter in the game, during the dialogue shortly before Mario battles Fracktail. However, the game never touches on this again, leaving the player to only speculate as to the meaning of it all."
So says Dimentio's page on the Villains Wikia. I took the last little bit as a personal challenge, thus the one-shot below was born. This was rather fun to conjure up, I must say.
Just to clarify, this is technically a sequel to my last SPM story, "Dimensonal Tribulation", but if you're well-versed with the game's backstory, then hopefully this should make some sense.
Quick side note: there's translations at the bottom. You'll know what I mean. :) Enjoy, all!
Nothing. That's all there was—a white nothingness. A blank canvas; an absolute void. Anyone caught in the nothingness might have first noticed the utter, completely dead silence that filled it to the brim.
Timpani's own heart sank as she fell through the absolute zero of a dimension. Oddly enough, it matched her own mind—empty. Somewhere in her mind, she felt panicked, afraid. Not all of her sanity had left her at this point, though it very well might have. Of her memories, however, remained a hole, devoid of any image or song. Emotions, on the other hand, as all humans must encounter, will come as surroundings change. Timpani did not recollect, but she could sense.
The girl moved her legs in hopes that she could find solid ground. She slipped on thin air, causing her insides to drop suddenly in shock. The vague realization came that there was no ground to the strange world.
A sound shattered the silence—or what the girl assumed to be a sound in the otherwise deafening silence. The tiny interruption hit her ears as though something had exploded in the dimension. Flinching, Timpani put a hand to her ear, hoping to block out the violent sound. The sound resembled nothing that she could recall, but to you and I, it may have sounded like a short, haunting tune. The music brought chills down her spine, like a gust of wind. Something about it only added only more fear to the girl's already frightened mind. In what seemed like hours, the girl cried out as her human instinct instructed.
"Please stop, please!"
The sound, at her command, came to an abrupt halt. This both satisfied and terrified the girl. With nothing else to do, the girl, as an experiment, requested the sound to start again.
" . . . Continue," she said quietly. At her command, the sound began again, this time sounding eerily closer to her. The howling gale of a noise (or so it seemed) weaved—in and out, louder, then soft again, then once again louder. The repetitive motion could only be described as maddening. When she felt that she could take it no more, Timpani shut her eyes and cried out again.
"Stop! Stop!"
The sound, the horrible music, had stopped, this time fading out. The eerie tune had buried itself in her ears, planted itself in her mind. Something told Timpani that the sound had been coming from something, or someone, even in what appeared to be this godforsaken dimension.
The girl attempted to straighten herself up—whatever direction that might have been. She tugged at her dress nervously. The sound, still stuck in her mind, began again in the dimension, now drawing intensely close. Louder, then softer. Alarmingly close, then distant again. She called out once more in fear.
"Enough, please! No more!"
The sound never came to a halt, taunting the girl.
"Go away!"
The sound only drew even closer to her ear, now only seeming to focus on one. Timpani covered her ears, afraid of what might happen. She said nothing else; only whimpered, breathing out her last shred of confidence; of sanity. The sound vanished, dissolving into the empty air.
"What . . ."
That was no music. It was a word. A human word.
"Have we . . ."
More words; more of a language she understood. But what was it saying?
". . . here?"
Trembling, Timpani came to the realization that she had intruded on the property of another. The nagging feeling reminded her that maybe, just maybe, she had not gone entirely insane after all.
"I . . . I mean no harm," she spoke up. Her voice sounded soft, as it had once been, far into the past. "I am lost."
Something brushed against her arm, terribly close and solid for the nothing she sat in.
"Una multa esemplare," the wispy voice articulated, indicating a form of curiosity. "Perhaps I've a glitch in my system—like it is with a spider's thin web, you've been caught."
Timpani frantically searched all around her, not understanding what she was looking for. It finally appeared in front of her with a sudden motion—the entire embodiment of the voice.
"Tell me, bella," the half-black, half-white face said, his mouth moving in an oddly pleasant way, "are you a hallucination?"
Baffled, Timpani could only shake her head in confusion.
"I suppose I should ask the same of you," she replied as the figure, clad in a cloak of yellow and lavender, circled around her in fascination. As he arrived back in front of the girl's face, the strange figure gave her a smirk, along with a short high-pitched laugh.
"Well, I can assure you am I quite real; molto reale," the figure said. "And . . ."
Timpani felt a sudden pressure applied to her face, and arms. Alarmed, she did her best to back away.
". . . evidently you are, too."
Timpani scrutinized the figure's appearance—his face looked as if it were hidden behind a mask, with one pitch-black eye against milky white, the other a strange glowing yellow against a deep black. His cloak fell to his knees, leading to a pair of baggy pants and oddly-shaped black shoes. Upon his head, the costumed figure bore a hat to perfectly match his cloak, both colorfully and structurally. A smile seemed to be planted firmly on his face.
"Perhaps we shall try again," he said, extending a hand to Timpani in a friendly gesture. "Ciao; fiera bambine, I am called Dimentio. What is it you are called?"
Timpani's eyes widened at the theatrical introduction. Of course, her name.
"I am . . . I am . . ."
" . . . you are lost," Dimentio finished with another slight chuckle. "Lost of both way and memory, I suppose—like a child in the toy store."
Timpani barely heard what he had said. She only focused on finding her name. Surely it was buried deep in her mind somewhere; surely she even possessed a name.
"Do not fret, child," Dimentio laughed. "You are quite lost. Can you tell me how you came upon this place?"
Timpani shook her head. The strange figure only stared at her with intense interest. The stare only made her feel less comfortable.
"I . . . I do not remember," the girl admitted. Dimentio nodded, fully understanding that she spoke nothing but the truth.
"Agreed," Dimentio said with a nod. "There is nothing for you to say."
Timpani looked at the figure again, and he did the same to her. They gazed at each other in complete fascination.
"I suppose we must make the most of this, then," Dimentio stated after a moment of rather quiet inspection.
With a quick gesture of his hand and a dazzling burst of light, Dimentio's cloak changed into a dapper suit of the same colors. He snapped his fingers. Timpani gasped as she felt a slight wave of heat hit her body. Dimentio hovered backward, placing his fingers on his chin, marveling at the girl.
"Size 6," he said. "With a bit of flair, given my own personal touch."
Timpani looked down—her simple, torn dress was no longer on her body, but had changed into a stunning ballroom dress—lavender and yellow, of course.
"Like Cinderella and her godmother," Dimentio murmured. "What do you think, my dear?"
"I . . ."
Timpani looked down at the dress. It was a perfect fit for her, and not only that, but it was definitely beautiful. The skirt contained three sections, and the top had no sleeves. Her arms were adorned with one black, one white long glove on each one, each with a satin fabric that attached to the skirt of the dress.
The surroundings suddenly changed with a wave of Dimentio's hand. The entire world went completely green, with a few stray pixels hovering in the air. An eerie waltz began to play, whether from the distance or from nearby, the girl could not tell. Dimentio bowed, offering a gloved hand to the girl.
"Can you dance, il mio amore?"
Timpani felt herself being whirled into Dimentio's hands as he spun her around. Stunned, the girl felt his fingers slip between hers, one arm placed in an outward position. Dimentio placed the other delicate hand on his shoulder.
"I suppose we shall find out," Dimentio said, not waiting for an answer.
Timpani listened to the whimsical voice humming along to the song. As her ears adjusted, the voice seemed more soothing, and the song relaxed her. Before she knew it, her feet were mirroring the actions of her dance partner's, as though her body recognized the song; the movements associated with it. After a long few moments of confused silence, she uttered a remark.
"I apologize for whatever interruption I may have caused," she said. Dimentio chuckled—a great charismatic sound. It brought chills down the girl's spine, nearly throwing off her dance pattern.
"My darling, I was only whistling to myself when you arrived," he replied, swinging his arm above his head. "You gave me a shock—I hadn't expected any visitors here in Dimension D for quite a long while."
Timpani nodded, suddenly wondering how she could be dancing on nothing. Her feet touched the space underneath her—nothing else but air.
"Ah, dubiti," Dimentio commented, noting her looking down at the "ground". "You doubt?" he repeated.
"Perhaps," Timpani said, breathless.
"Do not worry about the little things," the jester-like figure said, his voice most reassuring, most charming. "I can assure you I've taken care of them, like I shall take care of you."
Timpani saw it—a brief flash in that bright eye. Her instinct once again kicked in, alerting her to the suspicious character.
"What do you mean by saying such a thing?" she asked timidly as the charming dancer dipped her. He lingered over her, smiling eternally into her eyes.
"Why, you must have been brought here for a reason," Dimentio said, his voice becoming more of a whisper. "È destino, my love."
He swept her up again, their feet matching the steps of the heavy 3-step beats. Timpani felt entranced by the music, by the eyes, the very smile of the figure that insisted upon dancing with her. She felt his gentle hand brushing up against her hair and her back. She could sense danger, but at the same time, could not resist the urge to keep in step with the strange figure. Was it her, or had the song sped up?
"Will I be here . . . forever?" she inquired, her eyes meeting those of the stranger's.
"No reason not to be," Dimentio replied, tracing the girl's face with a finger. "You and I, two lonely souls, brought together in this empty place? Why, è destinata ad essere."
Timpani furrowed her brow.
"It's meant to be," Dimentio clarified.
"What if I must leave?"
The figure stopped in his tracks, catching Timpani as she stumbled into his arms. With that same curious look in his eyes, Dimentio spoke.
"There's no possible way you could leave except by my own command," he chuckled, a hint of madness dripping into his voice. "Mia cara, how could you escape this place?"
Dimentio swept her up again, spinning the girl around. His body moved so gracefully with the music, and he seemed determined to keep Timpani in the flow of the song as well. The strong hands continued to lead her through the dance, and the two eyes held onto the girl's face. Anyone might have noticed that he was desperate for company. Timpani shook her head, possibilities running through her mind. Would she be caught in this dimension forever, doomed to do nothing but dance her troubles away?
Her answer came far too soon for her to ponder the options. A horrible sound, another rush of wind, caught the ears of both dancers, alarming the fragile girl more so than her partner.
Dimentio supported the girl as she tripped over her skirt.
"Mamma mia," he said. "Whatever's the matter?"
A sudden and violent wind came again, passing over the two. Though she could not understand it, her time in this dimension had come to a close. A black void opened up in the empty space below them. The fearful sight and sound was somehow familiar to the girl. Without knowing it, she clung to Dimentio, her grip on his hands tightening.
"I don't understand," she said, tears forming in her eyes.
"No need to, my darling," he said, rather calmly. The music's pace sped up even faster. "I understand perfectly."
Timpani looked at his eyes once again, hoping that he would cling to her for a little longer—if only for a moment. The figure shut his eyes, then, without warning, removed his arms from under the girl's arched back.
"Mi dispiace," Dimentio whispered. Timpani's body hovered in the air for a few seconds. "I cannot keep you here if you wish to bring destruction to my creation." He indicated the swirling void below them. Timpani's grip weakened. "Thank you for the dance, bellissima."
Before Timpani could even utter a word to the strange jester, Dimentio snapped his fingers, changing the girl's dress to the torn blue that she had been wearing originally.
"Midnight has come, princess," Dimentio said, tilting his head. With that, he placed two strong hands on her and pushed her forward, away from him, away from his dimension.
"Ciao, my fair lady," he called down to her as she plunged towards the inevitable. "Don't forget to write!"
"So very nice to meet you . . . and your mustache!" Dimentio said, addressing the plumber with the overalls and red hat. "I am Count Bleck's master of Dimensions, the pleaser of crowds . . . I am . . . Dimentio!"
Tippi felt nothing at first.
"Remember the name well," Dimentio continued, his voice lowering.
Tippi's mind, her memory, flashed for a brief moment. The strange appearance looked extremely familiar, if only for a fraction of a second. A tune played in her head.
"I know you," she said, her first recollection revolutionary in her own mind. "You're that . . ."
"It would be so very dull if your journey ended so easily," the figure said, ignoring the pixl's comment. "Instead, it ends with magic!"
With a flick of his wrist, the magician had disabled the complex mechanical dragon guardian before them. The dragon let out a loud buzzing in reply.
"Now you and this robotic guardian can spend some quality time . . . Yes, quality snack time! For you . . . are the snack! Ciao!"
Mario launched into battle, effortlessly stomping out the malfunctioning robot. As the robot asked forgiveness, his game ending, Mario advanced forward with his pixl friends, Tippi and Thoreau, through the door.
Tippi searched her mind once more, silently so, as they moved ahead. For a split second, she thought she heard a voice along with the eerie waltz music.
"You seem familiar, too, mia cara."
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I've missed you all terribly!
(Yes, the cover image was my doing, in case you were wondering.)
I have the translations from Italian to English here (Ah Google Translate, how I love you)!
Una multa esemplare: A fine specimen
molto reale: very real
fiera bambine: fine child, fine girl
il mio amore: my love
È destino: it's fate
Mia cara: my dear
Mi dispiace: I'm sorry
bellissima: beautiful