* Hey guys! This is my first Brawl fanfic, I hope you don't hate it or anything... and this story centers on Solid Snake and his Brawl endeavors and dramas. ;) If you review you'll get a special prize: ... the satisfaction of knowing that you put some meaning into my day...if that means anything...:P

Anyway, enjoy!

Dark.

So dark.

The thin walls of his box were closing in on him. Too close. Much, much too close. Sweating and nervous, Snake peered out a small hole in his box, gasping for air. He had gone on reconnaissance missions before, but this was ridiculous.

Easy, Snake, he thought to himself. Remember. If you want to stand a chance against these guys, you gotta learn what they're capable of. Now stop breathing so loud…

He took a deep breath and looked again through the hole at the scene in front of him.

A short, Italian-looking fellow in red was bouncing around the floating stage, and shooting fire out of his hands, strangely enough. His face was blotchy red-and-white, like a mushroom, with concentration. Sweat beaded on his brow.

What's his name? thought Snake, trying to remember. Marvin. No…ah…Marley? No…think Italian…

It came to him. He couldn't believe that he was so stupid.

Mario! Of course. The king of Nintendo, or whatever. Ha!

A moment later, another, taller figure came into view. It was a seventeen-year-old garbed in noble green, with feral blue eyes. A sword glinted in his hand.

Snake watched them smack each other around for a while, enjoying every moment of it. And finally. The moment of revelation. With relish, he stood up and threw his box over the side of the stage, his face stern and proud, and waited for their reaction.

They both stopped and stared at him in mid-punch. Snake stared back, unblinking, like…well…a snake.

"Well, they usually come in through the front desk," the boy commented.

Snake held his gun at the ready, in case these two misfits had any clever ideas. "The name's Solid Snake."

"Mario," said Mario is a cheerful, heavily accented plumber's voice.

"I'm Link," said the boy. They both seemed friendly enough. "You're a new Brawler, right?"

"Sure," muttered Snake.

"Great!" piped up Mario, tipping his hat clumsily. "We show Solid where to go, eh? You register yet?"

Snake, still genuinely amazed at their friendliness, could only shake his head. Link raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. And suddenly…he didn't know why…but Snake got the strong, instinctual feeling that this boy didn't like him. No, not just dislike - Link hated him. And they'd barely known each other for more that fifteen seconds. He stared rudely, more out of fascination than anger. Self-consciously, Link turned to a hidden trapdoor in the battlefield stage and climbed down, disappearing into the ground.

"Is Link…generally a nice guy?" asked Snake.

"Yep," said Mario. "Why-a you ask?"

"No reason," said Snake, staring down at the trapdoor. "Well…see you later, I guess, Mr. Nintendo."

"Bye…"

Snake climbed down the ladder into the trapdoor room, wanting to get as far away as possible from the short Italian guy. Immediately, he bumped his head on the low, stony ceiling.

"Damn it! Ow!"

Massaging his head, he peered at the tiny room. It appeared be a cluttered kitchen carved from stone. A smoking stove and a sink piled with plates were arrayed against one wall, with a grand pantry and refrigerator sitting opposite them. In the center of the room was a tiny wooden table, at which Link sat, destroying a cooked mushroom with his fork.

"Watch your head," Link said quietly.

"Yeah, thanks," snapped Snake.

Link made no reply, but his eyes shifted to Snake calculatingly, and then back at his plate.

"What is this place, anyway?"

Link's voice was flat. "Ask Peach."

"How the hell is a peach supposed to know?"

There was a high-pitched, flirtatious giggle from behind him. Snake spun around, hitting his head on the ceiling a second time. He began to grumble, but then he beheld Peach. A glorious, yellow-haired young woman with big, glassy eyes and a good-natured smile.

"I'm Peach, silly," she squeaked. "I kind of run this place." She winked at him and giggled again. "Like my kitchen?"

"Oh, yeah," lied Snake. "Roomy."

"It's a resting place, too," said Peach. Her voice was dreamy. "After fierce battles on the Battlefield, we like to hang out here. Eat, drink, sleep…you know. The fun stuff."

"The fun stuff," Snake agreed. "Yeah."

Peach winked at him again. "A new Brawler. How sweet. Well, I'll be outside. It's my turn to mercilessly beat up Falco." With a flutter of her eyelashes, she was gone, leaving Snake in a very uncomfortable silence. Slowly, he moved towards the table and sat down.

Link got up immediately and began to wash his plate. Snake stared at the back of his head, imagining all the brutally violent ways that he could kill him.

After a couple of minutes of imagining every murder scenario possible, Snake gave up with a sigh. With care, he began to lay out all of his gear on the table.

"The latest gear," he said loudly. He didn't know if this was true or not, but a little white lie could do no wrong. "Yeah…they're like good friends. I don't know what I'd do without them."

Link didn't answer, but Snake gathered that he was listening. He went on, even more loudly, "I don't know what others do without them. Swords, axes, bows…outdated stuff. Modern ages mean modern weapons, you know?"

"Hmm."

"Especially in Brawl."

No answer. Snake drummed his fingers on the tabletop.

"Why are you washing the dishes, elf-boy? Shouldn't you be out there fighting? Let someone else clean up."

"It's polite. Don't call me elf-boy."

Snake laughed throatily. "Don't deny it, boy! I'm not judging you. If you're an elf, I really don't care. I mean, just because I'm mainly human doesn't mean I'll look down on you."

"I'm Hylian, not an elf," said Link, rather coldly.

"Oh," said Snake, at a loss for what to say. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to piss you off or anything. I didn't know."

Link nodded curtly to show his acceptance of Snake's meager apology. A moment later, he was stalking up to the trapdoor and climbing up the ladder.

"Elf," muttered Snake once he was out of earshot. He sighed, getting to his feet. It was going to be a long day.