A/n: Hey, there! It's been a while. Hope you've had as much fun as I have with this story!
I'm rolling with my old artistic licences. Whether they will persist into any prospective works remains to be seen. Please bear with me!
Chapter Nine: The Smash Brothers' Stadium
There are no attacks as they make their way westward. They sit aboard a small, open-topped vehicle partially refurbished by an Orfan villager using the remains of the two giant robots, watching the sunlit, open landscape as they trundle through it.
ROB speaks true. They arrive at nightfall after a late departure, and the driver leaves them at the edge of a dense sclerophyll forest before heading on their way to Port Meacri, to the north. ROB leads them through the forest, and after a short trek along some uneven, patchy ground, they reach a clearing. At the end of it stands a large, flat-topped building whose edges extend far beyond the tree line.
"The Stadium!" Nana exclaims.
"It's like the ones we read about in our books," Popo breathes.
ROB turns to them, almost conveying a smile in his dull eyes. "Your enthusiasm is infectious." Even so, he holds out a hand when the parka siblings rush forward, halting their approach. "I must let the master of the abode know we've arrived. Master Hand!"
A shockwave ripples through the group as a soft yet compelling, disembodied voice echoes through their minds. The voice of their dreams that had called them to this place.
"Welcome back, ROB. Have you our guests?"
"All twelve of them, I'm pleased to say."
"Splendid. I welcome you all here."
It takes a moment to realise that they'd been directly addressed, but Master Hand pauses for a moment before continuing.
"I imagine you have many questions. I'll start with myself. My name is Master Hand, and I am the guardian of this realm. You have my deepest thanks for defending the civilians of this world. I thought I'd like to meet the heroes of the day myself—I apologise if this has caused any disruption in your own lives. I will try not to take too much of your time, but it is important that we clear up this mess."
"Agreed," Wolf mutters.
"So, please bear with me. I'd like to invite you all in and meet another group of people much like yourselves—they also defended this world, but in a different time and place to you. I hope you all have a good time, here—it's the least I can do."
The gates to the Stadium swing wide open in Link's mind, but ROB still doesn't approach the entrance. He looks at, through the others, unfocused, before speaking.
"I... want to give you my thanks," ROB whirrs. "I am a long-time resident of this world, longer than most, and I really appreciate what you've done—what you've saved. I've suffered my own losses, but your efforts and the efforts of those in the Stadium right now, give me hope."
He bows his head and laughs, as breathily as a robot can. "Sorry for being so sentimental. I wouldn't like to weigh more people down with a sob story."
Falcon approaches the robot and pats him on the shoulder, heavily but managing not to jostle him.
"We all have our days," he says. "You don't need to explain yourself."
"Thank you."
Nana scowls at Link, who has a tear in his eye. Popo punches her.
"Pardon me," ROB says, addressing the group again. "If you could come this way."
So they reach their destination, finally.
*.*.*.*.*
ROB, alone, enters Master Hand's makeshift chambers—in actuality the infirmary with most of the mattresses rearranged at the end of the room for Master Hand's recovery—and takes a small bow.
"You are prepared for this day, ROB?" the Hand asks. "I don't mind a last-minute change of plans—"
"No, no, thank you for your consideration," says ROB, moving to tidy up some of the cupboards that one of the temporary residents had left in disarray. "Though, I suppose it may have been a good idea to warn them of your appearance beforehand, to keep things running smoothly."
ROB shrinks at his choice of words, but Master Hand glances over it.
"Hindsight is a valuable thing," says Master Hand. "If you are fine, then I will call up the rest, so we can all finally meet."
*.*.*.*.*
The kids and Captain Falcon were beginning to get bored in the room ROB had left them in before they were finally summoned by the telepathic voice.
"I have summoned the others. We are in the room marked by the red cross."
Just as Master Hand finishes speaking, ROB whirls around the corner and guides them a short way down the curved hall to where the sound of the chatter of a larger group of people reaches them first. A gargantuan man in dark clothing scowls their way but steps back to let them pass.
Only, the room is already full. ROB feels his circuits heat up.
"Forgive my blindness!" Master Hand blurts. "Perhaps we should meet in a more open location. I will see you all in the arena!"
There's a flash from further in the room and a couple of surprised yells. They hear some cries of "Where did he go?!", answered by a loud, "He's in the arena!", so the people in the room begin to filter out. Their variety is stunning, people and animals of all shapes and colours and sizes, much like their own group. Some curious looks are exchanged between the two groups before the first of them they are approached by is a blonde woman in a pink dress, followed closely by a short man in overalls.
"Are you the ones Master Hand was talking about?" she exclaims, eyes sparkling. She quickly picks Snake as her object of attention and holds out her hand, which he reluctantly accepts. "My name is Peach! It's such an honour to meet you all. Master Hand spoke very highly of you!"
"...Thanks," Snake replies, almost finding the woman's friendliness contagious, and finding her grip surprisingly firm.
The man who'd accompanied her finds his way to Captain Falcon, and they also shake hands.
"My name is Mario," he says. "Welcome to the Stadium! I hope you've had a pleasant time here, so far."
"Thanks for having us," is all Falcon can say.
"I think we should find Master Hand. Just follow us!"
Peach and Mario lead the way as the rest of the people filter out of the infirmary and lay eyes on Master Hand's guests for the first time. The two groups merge somewhat and move slowly as some members find themselves drawn to each others' sides.
Link, accompanied by Nana and Popo, finds an older teenager wearing surprisingly similar clothing to him, accompanied by a girl who can only be described as royalty. On their heels is a winged person in white clothing somewhere between their ages and a green reptilian animal with a bulbous nose and friendly eyes.
"Hey there," says the teenager. "You've helped out around here, too? You're very brave. I'm Link."
"That's my name, too!" exclaims Link the younger.
"That's so weird," the older laughs. "Glad to meet you, Link." He turns to the girl next to him with a small bow. "And this is Princess Zelda of Hyrule."
"I know another Zelda, too." Link the younger pauses before dipping his head. "Forgive my rudeness, Princess!"
Zelda laughs, smiling warmly at the children. "There's no need for that. Come, let's see Master Hand."
They eventually emerge into the arena, a concreted open space lit by floodlights and surrounded by many tiers of seats. In the centre of the space is Master Hand, floating a foot off the ground in all his disembodied glory.
"I apologise for the awkwardness," he reiterates as the group of almost forty congregate around him and eventually cease chattering as the Hand continues. "I thought a recount of what has brought us all together would be the best place to start, though I admit it's not the most interesting way to get to know each other."
"So, if you please, lend me your ears and hearts to ROB."
*.*.*.*.*
Master Hand covers the Subspace Invasion, King Dedede's role in the chaos, the rest of the heroes of the tale, and the enslavement of ROB's people[1]. It's a lengthy tale, but it answers a lot of lingering questions—that was the least they'd expected. Wolf is about to take his leave when he sees two Lylatian pilots amid the crowd.
Fox quickly breaks the accidental eye contact they'd made, but Wolf strides over to him and the taller Falco, the latter of whom grimaces at his approach.
"Didn't expect to see you here, McCloud," says Wolf, grinning widely.
"It's nice to see you too, O'Donnell," says Fox. Falco snickers, to which Fox responds with a backhand. "Mind your manners."
"Lookin' beautiful, as usual," Falco snorts, completely disregarding Fox's request.
"You'd know."
Fox's eyes widen, but Wolf holds up a clawed hand.
"Come on, we've got that much in common, wouldn't you say?"
"Are you gonna be difficult the entire time?" says Fox. "Or are you gonna act like the hero Master Hand implied you were?"
"Cut me some slack, McCloud. We aren't enemies, anymore, are we?"[2]
"Kinda hard to keep track," Falco grumbles.
"Alright, sorry," Fox rescinds. Thanks for helping out in whatever way you did."
"Fox, you make it so easy for him," Falco chides as Fox steps back in surrender. "You got friends, here, O'Donnell?"
"No enemies of yours, if that's what you're asking. I'm alone, apart from the freak show." He gestures vaguely at the others around them on the arena floor.
"Speak for yourself," says Fox.
"So, how'd you get involved with the 'freak show'?" Falco questions.
Wolf bounces on his heels for a moment before replying, graciously, "It came to me in a dream."
Falco screeches in delight. "That ain't you!"
"What can I say, I'm a changing man. If that ain't me, then what are you two, and the rest of your team? Are you mercs still law-abiding fellows?"
"By Lyla," Fox growls, shoving Falco aside to grab Wolf by the collar. Wolf smiles and his only attempt to resist is a slight shrug of the shoulders.
"Don't misunderstand, McCloud, you are just so fun to tease."
Fox says nothing, barely managing to conceal his fangs before remembering their place and releasing his former rival. The smile hasn't left Wolf's face, to Fox's immeasurable chagrin.
"You're gonna look like a creep with your mug stretched out like that," Falco says.
"And the knife didn't give it away."
Wolf sees Fox's had twitch towards his blaster and he throws his head back with a scratchy hoot.
"Take it easy, McCloud. We're practically on holiday now!"
"Then I wanna go back to work," Fox groans.
To his immense relief, a loud clap ends their conversation and all the chatter around them. Princess Peach waves a hand from the first tier of seats and raises her voice to the crowd.
"If our lovely guests would like to become acquainted with the facilities, then follow me!"
*.*.*.*.*
At least one of those present fails to hear Peach's announcement.
"I wasn't meant to be here at all?" Pichu squeaks. He paces in an anxious circle around Mewtwo, the latter of whom can't compel himself to leave the little Pokémon's company. "You heard him, didn't you?"
"In actual fact, no, I did not," Mewtwo says. "That was a private conversation between the two of you. I was not privy to it."
"Maybe you just didn't care."
"Whether or not I cared, Master Hand blocked my mental probe. Like he closed a door right in front of me."
"He can do that? Does that mean he's more powerful than you?"
"It doesn't matter," Mewtwo growls. "What matters know is that you have a decision to make. Will you talk to your future form or not?"
Pichu whimpers.
"Are you scared?"
"Maybe."
"Why?"
"I don't know." A string of electricity escapes the Tiny Mouse Pokémon and stings him in the back, triggering a fresh bout of frustration. "Maybe I'm scared of him being as much of a mistake as I am. For as powerful as you say you are, you sure are dense!"
Mewtwo nearly recoils but says nothing, merely staring down the fire in his companion's eyes.
"Hey there!" a new voice cries. Mewtwo turns to the source and sees that the subject of his question is taking his younger form's destiny into his own hands.
"Oh no..." Pichu moans, watching in horror as his future self trots straight up to him. When they meet, however, Pichu's ears perk up as he observes his future form close up.
"Master Hand told me about you," says Pikachu. "He said he brought you here my mistake, which must sound horrific to you. Am I right?"
Pichu shakes his head fervently. "No, it's good to be here!" he lies.
"It's a little embarrassing talking to myself. I don't really know why." Pikachu nearly shocks himself as the words tumble out. "But I don't mean that as an insult. Like you said, it's a good thing you're here."
"Really?" Pichu asks, a little too desperately.
"I imagine you've gained a little courage from being here, right?" Pikachu says. "It might not have gone the way you wanted, but there's so much ahead of you, in this world and at home. It's hard to see sometimes, but I know how optimistic you can get. You're right to believe in yourself, you know? That's what everyone does, and you can do the same if you want to see what these worlds have to offer. No one can deny you that.
"And here I go rambling," Pikachu laughs. "See? It's not that bad. Do you think that was bad?"
"No way," Pichu says. "...You're evolved."
"Are you judging me by my looks?"
"N-no!"
"I still do that, sometimes. I'm not saying that's a good or bad thing, I'm just pointing it out. But you didn't run away from Mewtwo when you saw him?"
Mewtwo bristles.
"Sorry about that, Mewtwo."
"But I did try running away," Pichu laments.
"And then you stayed," Pikachu says. "And you helped. That was something you did right, don't you think?"
Pichu goes silent.
Pikachu's cheeks spark in embarrassment. "I haven't lost you, have I?"
"No."
"Good. I hope you enjoy your time here. I think you will, actually." Pikachu's ear twitches playfully before he nods his head at Pichu and Mewtwo and returns to his post by Samus's side.
Pichu watches across the distance and time that separates himself and his future self's words.
Mewtwo says nothing, but feels the heavy air around the tiny Pokémon lift.
*.*.*.*.*
Roy had found himself among people with the first recognisable style of garb he'd seen on this latest trip to Lien. Neither of them had shared their credentials immediately with their new acquaintance but they'd established themselves as a reserved mercenary and an amiable noble-type. The trio ended up assigned to one room with two bunks after Peach's tour of the Stadium—arena, library and all, built into numerous complexes off the one circular stone structure.
Marth is infinitely more talkative than Ike, and smiles a lot, but even compared to others Roy knew, on their initial meeting he'd proven fairly unobtrusive.
"Who is that man you arrived with?" asks Marth.
"His name is Snake."
"Do you know him well?"
"He's a realist."
"Is that a point of difference?"
"I suppose so."
Marth smiles again, but it's a melancholy one as he lies back, an upright pillow between his back and the wall as they talk. Ike, who is lying on the top bunk which Marth had quickly relinquished to him, turns on his side and dangles a closed fist over the edge of the bunk, beside the prince.
"Could you put this somewhere?" he asks. "Just throw it anywhere."
Marth unfolds the length of fabric he'd obtained from Ike and instead tries the bandanna on for size.
"Suit yourself."
"How well are you two acquainted?" Roy asks Marth, the latter of whom looks sufficiently pleased with himself.
"In terms of time, not very," Marth replies, "but certain struggles forge sturdy bonds."
"We met up during the Subspace debacle," says Ike.
"We were also accompanied by a valiant knight. But I... hate to admit that at the time, he was—"
"He was a jerk."
Marth laughs in embarrassment but quickly pulls himself back together.
"We were all just under pressure," Marth continues. "But we made it in the end, covering each other's backs."
"Marth and I paired up for that buddy system he thought up for Tabuu," Ike juts in. "Way better than trust falls."
"You're welcome, Ike."
Roy smiles at their display, but feels a sudden pang of loneliness. He'd already made up his mind not to bring anyone from Lycia to this new world, but recounting as much as he could recall on the return left him wanting. The topic had come up with Snake during their stay in Orfan, and Snake too was reluctant to bring anyone to Lien.
"If I stumble into some supposed new dimension and everyone can speak the same language as me, then I don't want to be bringing people into a trap," is all Snake had said on the matter.
But Roy wanted to believe that it was something amazing, even if it was, at first, almost frighteningly unusual. Maybe it was that first night as a trophy that was throwing him off. He would just have to skim over that when trying to sell the idea.
He asks again, anyway.
"Marth," he starts, trying the unusual name on his tongue, "have you ever wanted to bring a friend here, from your home world?"
"I never thought about that," he replies. He studies Roy's inquiring face for a moment before averting his gaze. "It would be nice, if not a terrible hassle."
"That's what I was thinking, too. Ike?"
"We're not really people-people. Anyway, Marth's enough trouble as is." Marth's jaw drops. Ike laughs quietly, overhearing his gasp. "You nobles are so easy, sometimes."
The prince buries his face in his pillow to hide his rapidly reddening face.
"Marth?" Roy cautions, frowning slightly in Ike's direction.
"Oh, don't bother with him," Marth grumbles. "You must feel so awkward with my overreacting."
"Not at all," Roy assures him. Marth smiles futilely as if it's those were the most comforting words in the worlds.
"Maybe some fresh air will do," he announces. He marches towards the door but Roy jerks forward, nearly falling off the mattress as Marth's hand clasps the doorknob.
"Is it safe?" Roy exclaims, immediately remembering where they are and biting his tongue.
"We're not in a war-zone," Ike reminds him, redundantly.
"If you mind your manners!" Marth retorts. "Anyway, it's kind of you to worry, Roy, but I'll be back soon."
"I think I wanted another look at the Stadium, anyway," says Roy. "If you don't mind my company."
"Of course not."
"Stay safe, you two," Ike says as Marth makes way for Roy, who has his blade in hand.
"You too, you buffoon," says Marth. He shuts off the light and closes the door behind them.
*.*.*.*.*
Snake was surprised to find another human on the roof of the Stadium. It was the woman he'd seen in the impressive suit of orange armour, now out of it, taking up a surprisingly small amount of room on the ledge considering that her height rivaled his back on the arena floor.
"Are we the only adults around here?" he asks.
She turns suddenly and peers at him through the darkness before relaxing.
"The princess Peach might have a word with you," says the woman, turning away again to stare at the night sky.
"The pink girl?" Snake replies. "She fits right in with the rest of this motley crew."
"The ones sleeping down at ground level?" the woman returns.
"I think I saw some of them lurking the halls. Probably looking for a midnight snack."
The woman snorts quietly. "Are they proving a little unpredictable?"
"You can never be too sure."
He approaches the edge of the ledge, where the woman is dangling her feet.
"Who are you?" Snake asks.
"You got bounty hunters where you're from?" she says, to which he replies in the negative after hesitating. "Then, a name you haven't heard before. Samus Aran."
"So, Samus Aran is a big deal in her world?"
"Big deals deserve big deals. What are you?"
"A soldier. You can call me Snake."
"A pleasure to meet you, Snake, perhaps. What do you make of our coming together?"
"In what way?"
"As a soldier. I'm a bounty hunter. Our circumstances are a little unconventional, especially when you consider the backgrounds of the others below us. Let alone, species."
"That's a question I haven't been able to answer since I landed in this blasted place. Can't shake the feeling that this is all a trap, but it would be an excessively elaborate one at that."
Samus finally looks him in the eye, eyebrows raised at his answer.
"I shouldn't be surprised," she says. "That's what I thought too, initially, but now I feel like this place ought to be protected."
"Really? I didn't really see you in amongst it. You hung to the edge of the crowd down there."
Samus only offers a shrug and retracts her gaze.
Snake wonders what exactly she sees in this world but doesn't press further. He notices for a second time that evening that she is rather attractive and perhaps not as ragged as her profession suggested. The moonlight glows against her face, which is peppered with her fair share of scars but he's sure he looks twice his age whereas she's gotten off lucky. He wonders briefly if it's to do with her advanced placement in the timestream and what sort of... scientific manipulation is involved.
"You look like a lone type," says Samus, bringing Snake back to Earth—which is, ironically, harder to manage away from said planet. "It would fit your background."
"Is it that obvious? Well, I'm not completely alone. And I don't really get lonely, anyway."
"Good for you. And your lucky person."
"It's—" Snake trails off, confounded by this younger woman who, though masked, seemed to carry a burden as he did. He hadn't expected to find someone of the same feather in this confusing world and he's not so sure he should want to.
*.*.*.*.*
The Smash Brothers' Tournament: a fledgling tradition that brought the worlds' peoples together, all eyes on the minuscule fighters on the arena floor battling it out for the title of Champion.
It seemed this new congregation of personalities, tangled up in a great conflict to defend the realm, had inspired some change in the format. Mario, Peach and Zelda had quickly called a meeting the next day, just before any of their potential new candidates took off back to their home worlds. The princesses had procured a whiteboard, and were standing at the back of the room with Mario on a stack of crates.
"We also need a hook to bring in the crowds after our fifth tournament was... interrupted," Mario says, speaking to the congregation in the rec room, "so we've brainstormed some new events and would like your input, if you so choose."
"Our original format consisted of one-on-one fights we called Duels," Peach explains. "That was when our roster was very small and flexible. Now, there are more of us who have expressed interest in participating and so we must now, more than ever, treat this event with utmost impeccability and grace. But don't worry, Zelda and I will be responsible for that! You just have to let your voice be heard."
"So, we'll start off with an idea the three of us began working on," Zelda says. "We were thinking of introducing some raised platforms and obstacles to the battlefield. We thought it might be more interesting if our contestants were able to use their environment to gain the upper hand, especially if you already have some sort of disadvantage." She sees a raised hand in the crowd and hands it over to Red, who has Ivysaur curled up in his lap.
"Will all the fights be like this?" asks the Pokémon trainer. "It may introduce a different set of disadvantages on the fighters."
"No, we think it would be best to rotate the types of fights we're scheduling. We intend to use any changes as an equaliser as well as to draw the crowds back in. So, we may be able to implement many of the ideas generated here today."
"What if there were more fighters at once?" Falco says without raising his hand.
"We didn't think of that!" Peach replies, glossing over his defiance of protocol. "Thank you for the idea."
"Is this tournament round-robin or elimination?" says Ganondorf, hovering darkly in a corner at the opposite end of the room. Zelda processes the question but frowns at Peach, who nudges Mario encouragingly.
"It was previously double round-robin followed by elimination," Mario replies. "That first phase might become tedious with our larger roster, so we're thinking of either scrapping it or outsourcing some of the fights to another venue."
Link the elder raises his hand tentatively.
"Yes, Link?" says Zelda.
"The winner of the fight is determined by knockout, right?" he says. "What if they were pushed over a boundary, instead?"
Zelda raises her eyebrows. Peach beside her claps her hands in glee.
"That sounds wonderful!" she exclaims. As she scribbles the idea on the whiteboard, she whispers to Zelda, "You're lucky to have him around." She gives Zelda a wink, to which the Hylian responds with a confused stare.
Mario picks out King Dedede's hand in the crowd.
"Speaking of obstacles," Dedede begins with a sly grin. "What about other objects that you can use against your enemies? I see some of us have projectile weapons that might determine the outcome of the fight, so maybe you could hide some goodies in your new battlefields."
"Some of us have our blasters set to stun," Fox comments. "Anyway, even if mine wasn't, it wouldn't come close to knocking someone out."
"Before we rule that out," Mario cuts in. "Could you elaborate, King Dedede?"
"Well..." Dedede slips a hand up his sleeve and pulls out a white, papery ball.
"Dedede," Zelda says sternly. "What do you intend to do with that?"
He throws up his hands. "N-nothing, I was just showing it off!"
"You used those against Kirby and I during the Invasion. It produced a cloud of smoke." Upon that, the congregation begins to stir.
"Wow, did you have to make it sound so controversial?" Dedede protests. "Anyway—"
He stops as he realises it's no longer in his hand. He searches the room urgently and finds that it's made its way into Wario's grasp, who is peering at it intently. Pit, Link the younger, Ness and a reluctant Lucas have shuffled over to take a closer look at the object over his shoulder.
"Don't drop it!" Dedede squeaks, jerking forward to snatch it away.
Wario dangles it out of his reach and sneers, "Does it really work?"
"Don't try it," Dedede and Zelda command in unison.
"Alright," Wario concedes. He throws up his hands and the ball goes flying across the room. The room explodes into a commotion and Zelda covers her face, but after a few seconds she doesn't hear the hiss of the ball as it cracks open and unleashes its load.
"Nice catch, Samus!" she hears Peach exclaim. Zelda opens her eyes and sighs in relief as she spots their saviour with her arm in the air, a hand closed around the intact smoke ball.
"Game's over, boys," Samus declares, keeping a firm grip on the ball. Pikachu beside her sniffs it before deciding to create some distance between the ball and its own electric charge.
"Come back, everyone!" Mario shouts over the increasing noise. Tapping his marker on the whiteboard does the job of reeling back the crowd. "Thank you. We have some pretty good ideas so far."
"Who's gonna make it happen?" Wario interrupts. "Where will the materials come from? Not to mention the handiwork. I doubt Dedede's reliable enough to make enough of his little toys." Dedede's jaw drops but he holds his tongue, fuming in his place.
"Anything we cannot ask from Master Hand we will negotiate with the residents of this world," says Mario. "If you are concerned, you are welcome to contribute."
Wario grimaces and says nothing else. A few moments later his face stretches into a smug grin and he settles for a sufficiently self-satisfied expression for the rest of the meeting.
"We've had some preliminary talks with Master Hand and said that he is willing to impart some effort into rebuilding this tournament as compensation for our helping him," Mario explains to the rest of the group. "He will not be able to cover everything, though. It will present some opportunities and drawbacks. Any insight you can offer will be gratefully received. And with that done, we'll take a vote on our new ideas."
*.*.*.*.*
The meeting ends with everyone dismissed and without the compulsion to stay at the Stadium any longer except to oversee the upcoming Tournament's fruition. Luckily for the many remaining, they share each others' enthusiasm for the tournament and decide to stay for its preparation. It's something Popo shares with the people still lingering in the hallway outside the rec room, but he's embarrassed to admit it, even to his sister.
"And I thought you were crazy," he bemoans. "Everyone else wants to fight each other, as well."
"Hypocrite," Nana returns. "You were drinking up everything that guy said."
"His name is Mario."
"Yeah, him. Looked like you were scared of missing out or something."
Nana cuts herself off as she spots someone over Popo's shoulder.
"Hey!" she calls.
Pit and Link the younger turn to face her. She jogs up to them, leaving her brother to his own devices.
"Did you guys wanna fight?" she says.
Pit and Link blanch.
"What did we do to earn your wrath?" Pit cries, throwing up his arms as a shield.
"No, I mean like spar. Did you want to practice for the tournament?"
"Us?" says Link.
"The rest of them are adults. I wanna fight some kids."
"That's nasty," Pit comments. "I kid, I'm not that stupid. Also technically I'm like, three hundred years old."
Nana stares at him.
"No, I'm more like twenty-five. The years have been kind to me, wouldn't you say?"
"Yeah, but this tournament won't be," says Nana. "So, we've gotta practice and show the adults what we're made of."
"You're on," Link challenges.
Nana smiles wickedly. "Popo, come over here!"
Popo looks up from his conversation with Ness and Lucas and brings them over.
"What's happening?" Ness asks.
"We're gonna start practicing for the tournament right now," says Nana.
"Oh, sweet. Is everyone here in?"
"I'll force them."
Lucas visibly flinches.
"It'll be fun!" Ness encourages him.
"Just don't laugh," Lucas says shortly.
"You'll be laughing, too," Nana assures him. Suddenly, she declares, "Last one there's a rotten eggplant!" And she dashes off down the hallway. The boys are hot on her heels.
"Hey!" Popo calls, determined not to be the last one there. "Where are we going?!"
*.*.*.*.*
Olimar is conflicted over participating in the tournament and needs some time alone to contemplate it. He hasn't made his final decision yet, but either way, he has to check in with his home world before the tournament was due to begin in just over a month's time.
In his indecisive pacing about the Stadium halls, his five Pikmin trailing loyally behind him, he runs into something tall and shadowy. His gaze flickers upwards and when it meets a pair of eyes he nearly jumps out of his skin.
"My apologies, sir!" he stutters, looking up at the immense man in the black cape. "W-what was your name, again?"
"Ganondorf. You needn't bother with it."
"I'm so sorry, Ganondorf. I'll watch where I'm going in the future."
Ganondorf raises a curious eyebrow at the tiny astronaut who scarcely reaches his knees. "What are you, exactly? Your protective garb suggests that you are alien, or at least incompatible with this place."
"D-does it?" Olimar replies, having thoroughly believed this conversation would have ended by now. "W-well, technically, aren't we all aliens?"
Ganondorf hums in concession. "You are not built to fight. What keeps you here?"
"I honestly don't know. I'm not really inclined to this sort of activity, as you've surmised. N-not that I don't have a resume, but I have a family to look after, you know?"
Ganondorf almost radiates a heavy silence.
"W-what... what keeps you here, if you don't mind me asking?" says Olimar.
Ganondorf stares at the Hocotatian. By this time Olimar's mutual curiosity is overriding his terror and he manages to meet the Dark Lord's gaze.
"You have a noble commitment," Ganondorf says, slowly. "I have no such thing. My home has discarded me. Furthermore, I should not even be alive[3] and was brought here by powers beyond me."
"I'm so sorry," Olimar says, the fear in his eyes replaced by sympathy. "I hope your burdens aren't too great. Maybe it's a good thing that you're here. You can start fresh, if you want to."
Ganondorf frowns at his own innuendo but is strangely befuddled by the little alien. He's silent for too long and Olimar grows agitated again, shifting on his feet.
"I haven't overstepped my bounds, have I?" Olimar stammers. "I didn't mean to offend—"
Ganondorf shakes his head, the first time he's moved since Olimar started talking to him. "Make sure I don't step on your little friends in the future," he says, eyes flicking to Olimar's Pikmin, whose formation has loosened a little.
"O-of course."
Ganondorf gives a quiet grunt of acknowledgement before he turns on his heel and walks away, cape billowing behind him.
Olimar looks on and wonders if he's made a friend today.
[1] i.e. the events of SSE/Space and Time Cannot Divide. There are a bunch of events in that story that are referenced in this chapter but hopefully it doesn't detract from this story
[2] This places the story after Star Fox Assault, from what I can surmise without having played it myself. Post-character development, maybe!
[3] This places the story after Twilight Princess. Ganondorf was defeated but brought back to life by Master Hand/Tabuu offscreen. And now he's here. What is a Dark Lord to do...
Damn, this chapter just got all Smash Mansion-y... Feel free to share your thoughts! We're approaching the end!