Began Typing: 7:01 PM 7/29/2008
Posted: 6:25 PM 8/01/2008
Return of the Sixth and the Seventh: Chapter Seven (Round 3)
"Wake up, sweetie!"
Marth's eyes twitched open, glaring at Ike's blurry face as he opened his eyes. "What the hell, Ike? Are you really that intent on pissing me off before I even wake up?"
The mercenary smirked. "It's almost noon! You overslept. It's the semifinals today, remember?"
Marth nodded. "Of course. Wait, then what're you still doing here?"
Ike smirked. "Waiting for you to wake up. I couldn't very well show up without my roommate. I think the other smashers would kill me. And i'm pretty sure you'd sleep past one if I let you."
Marth sighed. Ike was, of course, right. He had developed the rather unhealthy habit of staying up a bit late talking to Gordon and Mist until late hours and, since Ike was a rather heavy and fast sleeper, Mist had demanded that HE read her the bedtime stories Ike always read before she slept, causing him to be unable to sleep for another thirty minutes. He wasn't getting anywhere near enough sleep like he usually did, and he momentarily worried if the lack of essential recuperation would cause permanent damage to his eyes and skin. Oh well...he wasn't really THAT much of a girl, but he did wonder if the bags under his eyes would make him look at least slightly insane. "Granted. Ike, would you mind carrying me to the stadium? We'll need to hurry if we're going to be on time and i'm not supposed to walk on my leg..."
"Sure!" Ike scooped him up enthusiastically, beginning to walk with a slight hop in his step towards the stadium.
Marth briefly wondered if the lack of breakfast would hinder his battle performance, deciding he didn't care much as the stadium came into view. He'd never really gotten a good look at the pathway from Smash Manor to the stadium before, finding it to be a sight for sore eyes. The noon sun beat down on the vegetation, that of which including from the smallest of flowers to the old large oak tree. Birds flew here and there, reminding Marth of his own home in Aritia...How he would love to return there...
Ike threw open the door to the stadium, marching directly to the break room where Kirby, Bowser, Diddy Kong, Donkey Kong, Ness, Peach, and Luigi already sat. "It's about time you gat here!" Peach complained.
"Why?" Ike asked, lying Marth down on the couch once again and heading over to the snack table in the corner where he shoved a special made cookie in the shape of cookie monster into his mouth, practically swallowing it whole.
Bowsergave him a brief snarl of what was likely to be disgust, turning its head aside. Ike merely blinked. What was HIS problem? "The tournament can't begin without two contestants. One more minute and you both risked disqualification." Ness explained, sitting what could be considered too close to the television for one's health on the floor, halting watching some weird holiday crafts show to give Ike a look that screamed 'DUH'. Ike decided then that he liked Lucas better.
"Well, we're here now." Ike stated blatantly. "Now what?"
As if cued, a male wire frame entered the room, motioning for them to enter their respective portals in the other room. The announcements switched on as they crossed the hall, Ike supporting Marthwith an arm as they stumbled out of the break room and across the hall to reach the portal room. "Welcome back! Sorry for the delay, but all smashers are now in the stadium!" The crowd, somewhere far away down the hall outside, boomed out with cheers. "Let the tournament resume!"
Ike entered the portal and the next thing he knew he was standing in a rather deep ravine, the ground covered by soft soil and a few trampled patches of grass. It looked like it might have been fresh bermuda grass at some point in its life but now it looked like it had suffered long term ware-and-tear from thousands of feet trampling the dirt repetitively. He glanced around. Behind him was an oddly structured loop-de-loop of solid ground. How the large mass of land had achieved protruding from the ground like that and spiraling into the air was beyond him. Despite his confusion, he had little time to contemplate what sick universe he was in, as a hammer flew from virtually no where, acing him in the face. "Ow!" He cried, stumbling back and looking down at the puffball. "Cheap shot!"
Kirby's mouth opened and Ike's eyes widened. He turned and began to run against the suction, only to find it useless. Kirby now sported his hair and headband. Although on any other occasion, the little puffball might have been kind of cute with his little twig-like hands massaging his newfound hair. "My hair! You'll pay for that!"
"Poyo!" Kirby argued back, pulling out the hammer again.
Ike rolled behind it, hitting it in the back roughly with his fist, then kicking him, and finally slashing him with Ragnell. Kirby flew around six feet, returning in a full sprint, it's little arms not unlike ears on the sides of its head. Ike pulled his sword up, stabbing it into the ground and creating an eruption which caused Kirby to double back, blowing out a flame that caught its arm. It didn't even realize Ike now propelled himself across the stage, slashing him roughly with Ragnell and sending him spinning from the force of the thrust off of the stage.
Ike made a dive for the couch, landing on it with a thud, nearly tipping the couch over backwards. He already knew that the second the winner of the round won, they were immediately transported back and it was his turn to hog the couch, as he finished first. He sprawled out across it, propping his legs up on the opposite armrest. He had no intentions of sharing. Why should he? They never shared with him; and by they, he meant just about anyone who got to the couch at all before he ever did. He glanced at the TV just in time to watch Bowser headbutt Diddy Kong off the stage. The next thing he knew, Bowser stood there, staring at him. "Nice match." Ike commented.
The swordsman began to feel slightly unnerved as Bowser did not quit staring at him. He wanted the couch. Ike moved his feet sheepishly, Bowser plopping down where they once were. Suddenly, Ike found himself between a screaming Donkey Kong and an angry Bowser. Bowserhad, after all, just beaten up D.K.'s little bro. Ike had to admit, if someone hit his little sis, he'd deck them in less than two seconds. He was on D.K.'s side of the argument...if he could understand it..."Ssh!" Ike hushed them both, receiving death glares from each, as Marth fought Peach on the TV. Luigi had obviously already lost.
D.K., without warning, attempted to sit on Ike's face, the mercenary shooting up. He was beginning to feel very small, squashed between the two oversized heavyweights. He returned his attention to Marth. The prince did not appear to be struggling, hitting Peach high into the air at the edge of the pirate's ship where she was sucked under the bow, never to be seen again. Well...in that battle. Marth materialized in the room, frowning as he realized there was no more space on the couch. "What's this?" He asked.
Ike pat his knee jokingly. "You can come sit with Papa, if you want."
Ike was only more surprised when Marth plopped into his lap, leaning back on him like he WAS the couch. Ike shrugged. He did sort of ask for it...
The intercom boomed. "Everyone, please congratulate our top four brawlers: Ike, Bowser, Donkey Kong, and Marth!" The crowd outside was deafening. "Please return for finals tomorrow to cheer on your favorite contender!"
"You know something?" Marth suddenly stated.
"What?"
"You're the only newcomer in the top four this year."
Ike blinked. "I suppose you're right...i'm up against one of three veterans!"
Marth stood shakily, Ike following suit and putting his arm around Marth's shoulders to help balance him. The sword duo walked out into the hall where a crowd of people stood, waiting. "Marth!" Roy called, running over and giving him a hug that nearly knocked him off his feet. "You did it!"
Ike laughed as Marth was literally thrown off his feet by hugs from Roy and Gordon. "Ike!"
Ike turned and ran over, catching his sister's hug in his arms. "Mist!" He laughed.
"You did it, big brother! Wait'll I tell Dad! He'll be so proud!"
Fox walked over as Ike put Mist down, offering his hand. Ike took hold and shook his hand firmly. "Congrats." Fox teased. "You're playing with the big boys now."
"What's THAT supposed to mean?" Ike demanded.
Fox only laughed harder. "Just watch your back out there, okay?"
Ike nodded. "Of course."
"Ike!! Help!!"
Ike turned, facing Marth who lie on the floor, fighting off the clingy Roy and overprotective Gordon. Ike laughed, holding his hand out for Marth. The prince grasped it, pulling himself up. Roy seemed to be attached to his waist. Ike blinked, poking the redhead. "?"
"Do you like my new belt?" Marth teased.
Roy gave him the most adorable pout that reminded Ike of Mist. "I'm not a belt, Marth-sama!"
"It's hard to tell," Ike jeered, "the way you cling to him like that."
Roy finally released Marth, waving bye as he ran off to say hi to Bowser. Ike blinked, confused, as he and Marth walked back to the room with Gordon and Mist in tow, his arm supporting Marth again. "Bowser likes Roy?" He asked.
"No." Marth chuckled. "But he keeps trying. I told him to give up last year, but he insists on being burned."
"He's a bit of a pyro, isn't he?"
"Ah, so it does show!"
Ike nodded. "Very much so."
"Big brother?" The voice came from behind them.
"Yes, Mist?" Ike answered, still heading for the room.
"What if you end up fighting Marth in the finals tomorrow?"
Ike seemed mentally frozen. He hadn't thought he would end up fighting Marth, just Bowser of D.K. "I...uh...haven't thought about it." Now he addressed Marth. "You better be fully healed by then. I want a fair match."
Marth nodded. "I'll look forward to it."
Ike opened the door to 110. After a few hours worth of Mist's whining, he ordered room service, receiving the food within the hour. Ike had ordered some simple chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy with a side of corn, thinking it sounded healthy enough. Gordon had ordered both he and Martha full seafood plate, it holding enough shrimp, crab, and lobster to feed a whole third world nation for a week. Mist had demanded everything vegetarian style, a veggie burger with a side of apple-cinnamon cuts and carrots. She had also ordered herself desert of chocolate mousse with Ike's Smash Bros. account card. "Spoiled brat..." Ike grumbled, sitting on the couch by himself. He had propped his legs up on the coffee table as he sunk his teeth into a chicken leg. "What's with all the seafood?"
Gordon smirked. "I didn't know what anything else was."
Marth snickered, inviting himself to some crab meat from one of the removed appendicies. Ike looked rather surprised, having personally never really liked seafood. "You've never heard of chicken?"
"Well," Gordon shoved a handfull of shrimp in his mouth, "you haf to underfand...fat Awitia if a port-fide kigfum. Mof income is bafed of...-"GULP-" Excuse me...Most income is based off fishing, so the royals usually buy lots of seafood to support the local economy. Lord Marth had been eating seafood since he was five."
Marth smiled brightly. "You won't believe how many dishes the chefs can come up with for seafood now."
Ike nodded in understanding, swallowing a mouthful of chicken. "Awful gracious of the nobles in your kingdom," Ike commented, "our mercenaries can't get any donations, despite how much work we do."
"Oh, Lord Marth!" Gordon exclaimed. "Ryan will be coming down for the finals!"
"That's great!" Marth snickered. "I hope he enjoys himself."
"Ryan?" Ike questioned. "Who's that?"
"Gordon's little brother." Marth answered. "He's a bowman also."
Gordon suddenly began to choke, holding his throat. Marth laughed, patting his back. "I told you not to eat the shrimp's tails, Gordon!"
Ike, after several more hours of Mist's begging, surrendered the bed to her, getting comfy on the couch with no more than a rather stale pillow and a thick-knit comforter. Gordon was nearby in a recliner, covered by a light blanket that Marth had lent him, snoring obnoxiously. "Nervous?" Ike broke the silence of the room (y'know...except Gordon's snoring).
"Yeah..." Marth's voice returned the call. "You?"
"Naturally. This couch is lumpy too, so I probably won't get any sleep, either..."
Marth giggled somewhere in the darkness, Ike's eyes scraping the pitch black of the room to find him. Why didn't they buy a lamp or something? "Well...good luck tomorrow, Ike."
"You, too, Marth."
"Goodnight, then."
"Yup...g'night."
Completed: 7:58 PM 7/29/2008
This is either going to be one REALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLlY long chapter or two shorter ones. I think I need to separate them into Rounds 2 and 3 instead of 2-3. Yeah...that made no sense. Nooooooooooooooo! Band camp starts in 2 days! Gah...and i'm a section leader too...I was supposed to have leadership camp but (Huzzah!) my director was too lazy to have it. And our camp is 7-12 and then again from 1-5. That's just not camp. That's torment. And it's ALL August, too. Needless to say, my postings are going to be delayed then because I also have SUMMER READING I haven't done...I've been doing this. . Somehow I find this more productive, though.
Disclaimer: Doesn't own anything because I can't remember what I put in the chappie. It's been a while, okay?
By the way, does anyone like the author's note at the bottom and not the top? I figure you want to read...oh...the STORY and not my rants. I made it optional for you to read my ramblings. I'm so nice. :P
