What's up, AWIRT? Well, the correct answer to that would either be the sky, the ceiling, or that random flying squirrel, but I digress. It's time we got to more important matters, like how I recently slipped and fell into a waterfall, and how my sister caught some sort of stomach sickness all in the same day. But we're both alive, thanks be to God. To read about another time I almost met death, click here: Now that that's done, I got to get on with this story.
I took a vacation to the Colorado Rockies, and then a short mission trip before writing this, so that would explain some of the delay. I am late with this, aren't I?
So without further ado…
To God be the Glory
Onettsons
Chapter 7: The Games
He was sorry, the celebrity noticed, of what he had done. 'A duel to the Death' was what the challenger wanted, so he was going to get it.
At least, that was popular opinion.
So came the time for the master of the red flame to master that of the green flame. He did not even have to say the title of the move to preform it; since it used the element he was almost akin with. He did say it though; just to give some extra spice to his finisher, and if not for his pleasure then his followers'.
'PK Fire' the soon-to-be-sovereign fighter shouted with a dominance that would turn away most opposition unaided by further assault. Away went the arching, dancing, roaring inferno, away it went to rid the Boy's Town of this person. This person who stood against change. This person who stood against order. This Singe Master who stood against him.
But his concentration was not all on his final shot, and where the rest of it was the fire master would never know. For although the flame was quite impressive, something about it, be it aim or execution, was off, and it curved up towards the sky at the last moment. Therefore, a single tongue of the flame bit at the ignorant challenger, which was blocked with relative ease.
However, the hand of the enemy was shaking, along with the rest of a quivering body. Yes, quivering in fear, he was sure. And now was his true chance of victory. So as to ensure that he did not miss again, he ran with a cry toward the shivering form before him, preparing to unleash the deathblow to him.
Then, it happened. It all came tumbling down.
The shaking hand moved with unseeable speed, caught the fire warrior's neck, and the other hand, which had been secretly charging a Singe Poke, slammed itself into the fire warrior's face.
Green burning began.
…
Luki…
The thought, if it could be called that, drifted through his subconscious.
Lucas…
The memory, if it could be called that, drifted into his sleeping consciousness.
Lucas.
Wasn't that…word, familiar?
Lucas.
He liked that name.
Lucas.
He knew that name.
"Lucas!"
\
Ness was awake.
"OMyGosh! OMygosh! What in tha world!" Ness threw back the strange, makeshift covers on the strange, makeshift bed that he had been given to use yesterday. He quickly scanned the strange, makeshift room that was now his, grabbed his cap, and ran out the door. Upon doing so, he ran into a crowd of boys, or, Onettsons, whatever, that was meeting outside of hishouseof all places and of all times.
Oh, wait. No, the jam-packed throng of shouting, impatient children stretched down the strange, makeshift road as far as his eye could see. Well, up to the arena, anyway. How was he supposed to get through all this!
The multitudes paid him very little notice, for they were busy with their own problems; such as: someone stepping on their foot, the lack of space, and the fact that yelling repetitively did not silence the din they were in. Ness, however, didn't learn from their example, and joined in the mess of shouting to ask where Aaron was. Ness, however, eventually learned from his own example, and quit his respective racket to think.
He needed to talk to Aaron, but how? He really had no idea where the 176 year old was, and for that matter he really had no idea where he himself was…where was he? Oh, yes, that was right. But that didn't change his predicament.
"Wait a second!" he thought, "What about my powers!" It was more of a realization than a question, but nonetheless, it helped him solve his situation.
Recalling advice given to him in the previous day's training session, Ness focused on what he needed to accomplish, then stood up straight, looked to the sky, closed his eyes, and the bellowed "WHERE'S AARON!" with all his might.
It was a good thing the capper wasn't in possession of stage fright, or else he would currently be in need professional medical care. Countless heads turned to him, quite literally countless because Ness was sure that a good number of the faces eyeing him were out of sight.
"My name is Aaron," some random person in the onlookers said whilst raising his hand. Well, that wasn't Aaron, well, the Aaron he was looking for, anyways.
"No, No, No. The other Aaron!" There was murmuring amongst the crowd. This wasn't getting him anywhere.
Suddenly, a voice spoke up, but he couldn't understand what it was saying. He concluded that it was in another language. Then another voice answered it, heavy with accent. It was scarcely understandable.
"Naw, man. He's no girl."
"What!" Ness beamed a killer glare in the general direction of where the talk had come from, just hoping that his aim was on the guilty party. On the bright side, the comedic, though somewhat insulting, remark had kept the Onettsons entertained enough to keep their attention on the tall boy. Now he just needed to ask the right question. What was something that characterized Aaron?
"Alright then, where is the Aaron who is a part of the group that goes out of the mountain and destroys helicopters and stuff?" Well, that came out awkwardly, but a sacrifice he was willing to make if it worked.
Ness spotted a few raised eyebrows, but he had indeed asked the right question. This was communicated to him when a kid with tanned skin and a red, ruby necklace asked his neighbors, "Do ya think he means that Dumbinter guy?" They nodded and voiced their agreement, and pretty soon the entire horde was chiming in their own.
Ness wasted no time. "Where can I find him?" Simultaneously, and a bit disturbingly, the entire throng pointed towards an area to the left side of the arena. Or, in bleaker terms, they pointed to the exact opposite side of Onett.
"Great. I have to go all the way over there."
As the black-haired boy fought threw his former audience to where they had directed him, he heard behind him, "What? You got a death wish or somethin'?" Ness ignored him and moved on.
…
After much re-asking, redirecting, and a good amount of respites, the red-capped runner finally reached the 'Dumbinter District', as he was told it was called. Ness continually wondered what 'Dumbinter' meant, and if the 'Dumb' part of the word was actually correct or not. But he got there, that was the important part. Now, he just had to find Aaron.
"THERE you are."
Or Aaron could find him.
Turning around to see his target and his target's team (part of it), he moved up to the group, collecting his thoughts and his questions.
"Okay, first-"
One of Aaron's friends cut in, "First we need to finish your training. Now stop talking and let's get to the Arena already."
"Yes, let's." Aaron said, already turning to the domed building. His posse shortly followed suit. Ness didn't.
"Hold on a second! I have to talk to-"
"You can multitask, right?"
"Yeah, but-"
"Then let's go. You can talk while we run."
Having only a thirty second break after almost constant super-running, Ness was ready to throw up at the word 'run', but since he had an ego to keep healthy, he did his best to keep up.
It took him awhile to catch up with them, but he did it eventually. He then tried to talk. He managed to form one word, but breath failed him after that effort, and Ness fell behind again. He then decided that he would wait till they all got to the Arena and then tell them about Lucas.
They bobbed and weaved through traffic; including: Onettsons, buildings, random slabs of concrete, and chickens flying through the air at incredible speeds…no joke. The last obstacle nearly caused Ness to fall flat on his face, and he heard, "You'll have to get used to that when you're running through this area."
After a few unappetizing chicken comments, the parade came to one of the many strange, makeshift entrances to the arena, which, in contrast, looked very professional as a whole. They slowed to a walk as the ragtag team passed through the long hallway that followed after the door…thing.
Then, they went toward the light and found themselves in the actual arena, which was now filled with an uncountable number of cheering Onettsons sitting/standing/flying/falling in the scores of strange, makeshift chairs surrounding the sandy fighting pit in the very middle of all the chaos. And indeed it seemed alive with fighting, but all Ness could really see from his position was random flashes of multicolored light.
But there were more pressing matters. "Okay, let me talk now. I-"
"No." Matt grabbed his arm and pulled him down the aisles to the front row of seats. Ness struggled and shouted in protest, but to no avail as the strength behind the arm towing him outclassed that of his own. Coming down to the desired file of chairs, Matt yelled to the current occupants, "DOMINTER! Get out!"
Without so much as a glance, the ordered ones jumped up and scattered away in an almost terrified fashion. Immediately after they had left, the capper was almost thrown into one of the chairs and was soon joined by Matt, Aaron, and the rest of 'Team Dominter', Ness assumed. Even though he was sure any effort to tell them about anything at all whatsoever was oh so totally not going to work, another shot was given at communication by going straight to the point.
"IHaveAFriendWhoHa-"
A hand clasped itself firmly over his mouth, and then pulled his head to face the fighting. He was then commanded, "Watch."
Telling them about Lucas now was a lost cause, the black-haired boy decided to do as he was told. He turned his eyes and, now that he was up close, saw the actual competitors in the ring.
One was short, with a blue shirt with a burned out hole in it, complimented by a white pair of startlingly white pants. His hair was almost non-existent, and Ness guessed it had been present in the shirt's incident. The other was tall, thin, tan, and wore a red bandana which stood out among his otherwise unsanitary clothes. Ness noticed this all in a second, and the next second he noticed something else.
A ball of pure, white light appeared in the short ones hands, pulsing steadily. He bounced the ball in his hand twice, then he threw it down his back, but it came up on his other side, and then went dancing all around and about the boy. In response, the tall one put his two hands together and emitted an orb of purple, lighting-like energy that turned blue at the perimeter of the sphere. He held it there, and everything stopped, even the audience's breath.
Suddenly, the short one halted the light in front of him, and reacting quickly the other thrust his energy forward, causing it to pulse dramatically. A 'huh?' was heard as the he realized his opponent hadn't done anything. Frantically now, he jumped backwards in a dodge, and shorty threw his attack but it fell in a curve at the taller one's right. On the floor, the defendant covered his eyes from the blinding and burning light shafts that the ball had produced.
He looked up, startled, to find that the shot had missed. Then he looked into the face of the shorter one, looking up, ironically.
"PK Fire."
That was the end of the match, and the tall one, hugging his burnt face, being dragged out of the ring was met with much laughter and ridicule. I mean, come on! Why not add insult to injury?
Ness gave an arched eyebrow and a 'seriously?' look towards the commotion, and then to the Dominter team, for they were laughing the loudest. Then noticing movement, he saw Aaron move over to sit beside him, trading seats with someone else.
He whispered just above the roar of the crowd, "See there? That's what real fighting looks like." The capper nodded absently. "That's what we're going to train you to do…except a lot better." The other paid some interest to what the speaker was speaking. "We showed you that, what we could of that, so you could get a feel for good fighting. Up next will show ya what normal fighting looks like." Ness turned his eyes back to the fighting ring where apparently, a new match was being assembled.
What exactly was he supposed to get from this? From watching two young, well, maybe not young, boys use magic to burn their enemy's face off? Where was the good in that? …Well, outside the large excitement factor. Suddenly, the black-haired youth realized that his hand was on his chin, making a very cliché appearance for himself. In spite of what was around him, Ness smiled and thought, "I guess I just do that when I get philosophical."
…
Another match has begun. Two medium sized boys, in both height and girth, step out of a large group dispersing in different directions, who are still continuing their bickering in vain. They come to the middle of the ring, and face each other.
"Check!" one cries.
"Check!" two cries.
They ready. They stare. They twitch. Then, they scream. They through themselves at each other. Sparkles inflict pain on them both, for neither has the mind to defend himself. They only believe that they are stronger than the other, and only believe that by sheer force will they bring the other down. This is a lie. A lie the find out when they see that more tactics is needed to become greater then whom they are against. This happens to these usual fighters. Every single match they are in. They never realize that only by hard work can they rise. They never realize that no one is born the best.
And now they break apart. And now they think of projectiles. And now they select a projectile. And now they yell its name, perform its stance, send it out. Out on a mission, perhaps. A mission to knock their target on their back. Both missions fail, however. And now they choose another agent to carry on this all-important mission. They lose dozens of agents, but it does not matter. Though the supply of agents is unlimited, the supply of energy is limited. And soon they have worn themselves down, catching any breath that is close enough to keep.
And now, finally, they begin to really think. How can they break the other's defense? How can they trick his guard? How can they strike at the precise moment and time? How can they win?
But they do not think hard enough. Planning their own war is essential, but not adequate. They should also know what their opponent is planning, so that they could plan it their selves. If only one of them were doing that, victory would be guaranteed. But they were not. And this match would soon join the million others in this town's long record of shameful battles.
He had no further urge to watch. He wondered, as he always did, why he had come down here, especially since he had been hiding from view all the while. Amazing how he was managing to do so, with the cheers and jeers of the crowd all around him in the arena. Hiding in shadow had become third nature to him, for he lived in it, excepting times like these. Times when he came down to Onett.
Eyes glaring under the mask at his memories, the figure slunk out of his home in the darkness and out into the familiar but strange world of the sunlight. There, he did not have to worry about being spotted, because everyone was either in the domed 'sports center', or in the houses, nursing their wounds as well as their grudges.
Eventually he reached the outskirts of Onett and the 'fence' that was the Mountain. As he clambered up the side of the rock, the 'boy' shuddered, feeling a powerful wave of the Other Flame run from his heart. He then continued up the curving wall, his mind turning to thoughts of the mysterious Other Flame.
The masked figure began to think of the Singe Legacy.
…
"That was…interesting."
"Interesting…I guess that works," said Aaron in response, getting up from his chair. They had just finished watching the second match between two unfortunately average brawlers. The style of fighting they used, though they really didn't have one, was messy and disappointing to watch. Still, the new kid had to learn what the normal opposition was.
As for 'the new kid', Ness was pondering why he was not very impressed with what he saw. After all, that was any video game he had had brought to life…Why did he feel so dissatisfied?
Thinking of his old RPGs made him think of home, which made him think of Lucas, which made him think of…you get the picture.
"Aaron, I've been trying to tell you about-"
*Sigh* "Okay, shoot."
"I have a friend who was attacked and captured, I guess, by those same helicopters that you guys destroyed, remember?" Aaron looked vaguely interested now. "I was hoping you could tell me where to find him."
Aaron sighed again, then explained, "Look, Ness, we sent a small detachment of our team when we were fighting those machines, so they rescued your friend."
"You sure?"
"Undoubtedly sure. But they came in on the opposite side of Onett that we came in on. So he's probably gettin' treatment similar to yours."
"Then why haven't I seen him?" the unknowing prodigy asked suspiciously.
"Dude. It's a big city. But the point is he's here, alright? Look, let's get your training under way; get you in some matches of your own, and when you do that you'll definitely see him again."
"I suppose that sounds reasonable…" Ness thought. Then, another big question hit his mind. "Who were the guys trying to capture us? Why would they do that?"
Aaron groaned full out, and the student couldn't figure out whether it was from the fact the answer should be obvious or out of sheer annoyance. "DUDE! Can't ya tell! I was the humans!"
"The humans…" Ness prodded further, intrigued. "Why?"
Groaning again, Aaron decided to finish this explanation that should've been obvious to any Onettson with half a brain. "They're afraid of us. Jealous. Stupid. Here's a story, kid. About 170 years ago, when I was little, like sixteen or somethin', the humans started getting on to me 'cause I was different. They even tried to kill me once or thrice, and that is what eventually led me to Onett. Let me tell ya, that's how the story goes for most Onettsons, so you can bet that the humans were trying to do the same thing to you as they tried to do to me."
The capper blinked several times. He was going to need to let that soak in for awhile before he could truly grasp it. He suddenly realized that he was being led once again, but this time to the back of the Arena. "Where are we going!"
"Training," he heard from behind him.
"Get ready to learn some new stuff." That had been Aaron.
Ness nodded absently as he walked down a staircase nearly invisible in the shadows, listening to the maddened roars of an audience, eager for another juicy fight.
"I guess this is turning out all right."
HALT, AWIRT! Before we go any further into the ending notes, let's get one thing straight in our writer/reviewer relationship. I've been getting a lot of one-liner reviews lately, and it's really starting to bug me. I mean, I know in this age of the internet that it is hard to write a long/medium sized review, and I don't expect mini-essays, but come on, these aren't Youtube comments. These are fanfiction REVIEWS. In a review, I would like to know what you think on how I did, and if there were any particular bad parts of it that need work. Comments on good aspects of the chapter are appreciated, as are comments of any sort. In fact, all that can be fitted in a few sentences. I'm not actually mad, and don't think I'm gonna flip out if I don't see all of that in a review, it's just that a writer needs constructive criticism to improve. So if you can, take a little extra time composing your review.
Now that that's over with, let's get to the replies!
roseal: Well, you certainly wanted Ness to remember about his friend, and that's what you got! What did you think of it? And somehow you left two signed reviews… fanfiction glitches are so weird! Lucas was actually supposed to have a part in this chapter, but due to me adding in that third POV and the overall length of this episode, that I decided that Lucas would not be in this chapter, but the first POV in the one following.
Innocence: I'm glad that you're glad that you got to see the arena, and you got to see even MORE of the arena! Doesn't that make you glad! *ahem* and wow, you'd still really like to see more? That makes me feel special!
TheMysticalQ: Okay, willing slave thing's kinda weird, but let's move on, shall we? In response to the short chapter, I made the longest one yet. Yeah, at the end I was writing pretty quickly, because I got excited with what was going on. I really can't see how chapter four could explain everything, but that's coming from the guy who knows the whole plot. I would tend to think chapter five, but I think I see where CarlineN was coming from. Ness timeline will catch up to Lucas's, I can tell you that.
oceanlover4ever: How was Mother 3? Never played any of the games myself, so I'm curious to how you thought this one went. Things are getting interesting? That's great! *does the chicken dance for joy* oh, sorry. Yes, you should remember ALL the mysterious monologues, even the details. What did you think of the two in this chapter? And it's fine that you have that vibe.
PenfullofChaos819: Wow. THAT was a long review (but don't think I don't appreciate it). I'll admit I was getting a little annoyed that your review wasn't there, but that was mostly because I was looking forward to the length that your reviews guarantee. Don't feel bad if there was anything taking up your time, I understand. And if not, I still understand. Now, onward!
Glad to see that my 'mysterious introduction' went well. After looking up 'Nihilism', I see that your word choice is spot on. And ol' Luki here is going to get more and more understanding of what his NEW life is going to work like. Ah, yes. The Evil Market has been struggling economically ever since they broke in to their own Federal Reserve. You can fool around, I don't mind.
Ness will be doing a bit more quick adapting. Heh-heh, no worries. Awkward puns are accepted. Yes, we all knew that, and your notice of my descriptions had me try and put the same quality into this chapter. How did I do?
Wait. Does your strange reaction to my using the name Matt mean your name is Matt? Hmmm…
Foolish Duo time!
Metal: No, Metal. You couldn't have lived without the 'foolish duo'. Why? Because you're artificially alive, not literally alive! You're not the real Sonic!… Aw, it's nice to see you show the good guy under that hard, grouchy exterior. So I won't insult you any further…for now.
Silver: Yeah, his speech surprised me too, Silver. Silvia would be proud! CutPro? I like it. I'll keep it. I won't call it any of those things but instead identify you as lucky. So, lucky you! Oh, yeah! Breaking the forth wall for the win! You all are awesome.
Godspeed back to you, sir!
CarlineN: Hope to read you next time!
This is Nacartor of Cut Productions, signing off.
