Despite the past events, Kirby was able to spring back into his old joyful demeanor, as if the argument had never happened. Then again, Kirby wasn't one to hold a grudge - it's unknown if that's due to a poor, infantile memory, or if it's something that Kirby is incapable of performing, like a mix up in his DNA. Nethertheless, Drawcia had also decided to forget about the incident, but not without a few changes.

She had debated giving Kirby back his limbs, as he was reliant on the Paintbrush to get him from place to place, but she decided that it was best for him to practice with it, become more acquainted and control its infinite powers. (It was also an excellent means of controlling him.)

"Poyo!" came a muffled call from one of the paintings.

Drawcia grumbled, rising from her plush armchair and made her way over to the blank canvas. With a quick swipe of the paintbrush, the canvas acted as a window to Kirby's room in the attic.

"What is it now?" She asked the child.

Kirby motioned his small pink head as best as he could towards an easel in the far right corner of his room. He wanted to play, and without the Paintbrush, Kirby wasn't able to propel himself much more than an inch to get there.

"You know I can't do my work without the brush," sighed Drawcia. Kirby frowned, almost sheepishly into the mirror. He was grateful to have access to the Paintbrush, and tried to not overuse it.

"Wait a minute- where is your hat?!" Drawcia fumed. Kirby motioned to the floor a few inches away, where his purple witch's hat lay, just barely out of reach.

Not wanting to take the risk, Drawcia raced up into the attic, not wanting a repeat of what happened a few days prior.

Kirby was having a hard time adapting to the witch's hat. Drawcia noticed how it seemed to irritate him at times, and how much it limited his ability to roll around without having flop around all over the place.

Surely he mustn't need to be under my control any longer, she reasoned, having become frustrated with Kirby's slow and clunky pace, I think he believes that I am truly his guardian.

The witch's hat had been a precaution at the time. It was cursed to subtly convince Kirby that Drawcia was, in fact, his creator. Looking back, it seemed like an unnecessary precaution, as Kirby was fairly easy to please and never questioned anything. Drawcia wasn't sure whether to equate that to his amnesia, or if he simply liked being around her.

"Poyo!" Kirby called from upstairs. Drawcia thought for a moment (Kirby knows to not to shout down the stairs), but then bitterly recalled that he had to fed.

"Coming!" She cooed, frowning the entire twenty seconds it took her to draw a bowl of porridge. When she was done and the food having been pulled into existence, she sent the Paintbrush to retrieve the troublesome tyke.

Minutes later, Kirby came rolling down the stairs, his hat causing him to lose balance on the rainbow road and fall flat on his face down the stairs.

Drawcia sighed, floating towards Kirby, "Oh, give me that," she snatched the hat from his hat, then added a sickly, "...Darling." at the end. Kirby happily rolled towards the food. Without much other way to eat up, Kirby rolled in mouth-first and tried to eat as much as he could, spraying grey flecks onto the carpet.

Disgusting, muttered Drawcia, what's the point in eating anyhow? As she commanded the Paintbrush to clean up, she turned to Kirby and saw a relatively empty bowl, and a sad frown on his face.

"What is it now?" She groaned. Kirby motioned to the bowl.

Drawcia understood, "That's it." she said. She couldn't be bothered to make more. The fact that she had to waste infinitely powerful on such a primitive product was insulting to the Paintbrush's power and her own.

A sound frown slowly formed on Kirby's face. Drawcia flinched, having never seen that expression on Kirby before, but kept her stance. "No, and that's final."

Just as Kirby's eyes began to water, there was a sudden change in disposition. It seemed that he had gotten brighter in an instant. Unnerved, Drawcia stared back, unsure of what to do.

But Kirby had long decided exactly what he had to do.

He opened his mouth, and inhaled.

And within half-a-second, the mansion was thrown into chaos.

The first to go was the bowl, naturally, followed by the nearby wooden cabinet and china lamp, then the loose paintings on the wall, soon followed by the bolted frames on the wall and the curtains which were just as tightly secured. A wave of different shapes and colours found their way into Kirby's gaping mouth, and if Drawcia didn't act soon, she would soon be next. While her body seemed to be sturdy in the storm (as was the Paintbrush, which didn't seem to struggle at all in the whirlwind), her thick, heavy robes were another story. They were dragged down into the wind, and closer and closer to Kirby's mouth. She desperately tried to yell, but nothing could be heard over the vacuuming sound.

Suddenly, she remembered the purple and pink hat in her hand, which was also pulling her down. In a swift movement, she stopped fighting the suction for just a moment, until she just above Kirby's body. With a quick slam, she pulled the hat back onto his head.

Immediately, he stopped.

Anything that was stuck in mid-air immediately fell to the floor in a heaping mess. The wallpaper was hanging off the walls, often torn up, Drawcia's favourite armchair had thankfully been spared, having come just inches from Kirby's seemingly infinite stomach.

She inspected the hat. So it seemed it had another purpose - suppressing Kirby's powers. She decided this made sense - if Kirby were to forget about his past life, then the spell must naturally inhibit anything that may make him remember it.

Kirby looked at the mess around him, as if he had forget the past 34 seconds of chaos. But when he caught Drawcia's furious eye, he had a sinking feeling that it was his fault.

Drawcia shook herself of the debris and fixed her robes. Kirby watched the Paintbrush cautiously as Drawcia waved it over his head.

"No punishment," she seethed, "But that needs to stay on indefinitely. I've made the enchantment a little stronger." She gave a soft sigh, "You know I just want to protect you." Kirby moved his head up and down unsurely, having to recollection of what just happened.

"Off to bed," she lazily sends the Brush and takes Kirby back upstairs. Not wanting to anger Drawcia further, Kirby remained silent for the entire ride back up into the attic.

The hat had worked wonders. Kirby rarely wanted to eat, only needing something once or twice a day. And though Drawcia didn't understand its significance, but Kirby had grown less bright, his eyes a more subdued faded blue. And with a sticking charm to boot, it wouldn't be coming off again.

Drawcia almost went in to search for her precious paintings and wasted paints, but she had quickly decided against it after the incident.

"Kirby, can you open wide for me?" She asked him the next day before his next meal.

Kirby happily obliged, this time without inhaling. Taking the Paintbrush, she lit a small light at the end of the bristles inside.

It was the first and last time. Shakily, she nodded, dropping the Paintbrush with a clatter. She resided into her arm chair, eyes wide and hair frayed in a state of utter horror as Kirby happily gulped down a bowl of oatmeal.

Thanks for being so patient, Part 2 of Tangerine Tyke is up! This one wasn't too bad to get out once I got rolling. I'm not entirely sure how I want Part 3 to play out, but hopefully I'll figure it out. It's not too late to make a recommendation, it just might make it's way into the story.

I feel this chapter may be vague in certain parts, so feel free to ask if something doesn't make sense.

PS: Excited for the Switch reveal on Thursday! Doubt we'll get anything for Kirby, but I hope Nintendo's got a great line up for 2017!

(Just noticed the Chapter names are messed up, I'll fix it tomorrow - all parts of Tangerine Tyke are a part of Chapter 4, not 6!)