"There are 59 questions in the Critical Reading section. You are not allowed to revisit the previous section or flip forward into the next section-"
Over Marth's recitation, I glance over at Lucas, but slumped over in his chair, he's looking as brain-dead as I am. Behind him, Toon picks up his Number 2 pencil, so I do the same.
"You have seventy-five minutes to complete this section. Your time starts... now."
.
.
.
~Chapter Twenty-Nine~
I Circle C for CATastrophe
.
.
.
Yep.
You called it.
Marth finally cornered us.
"The Fantastical Interdimensional Standardized Test is more than three months away," he beams, rummaging for his sign up sheet just as Lucas and I arrive at the Mansion lobby with our suitcases. "If you do well on their actual entrance exam, you can get merit scholarships from Smash Uni. I'm proctoring a practice exam tomorrow, you're not too late to sign up for it-"
After watching him spew out SMASH Uni pamphlets like some exotic bird of paradise, we eventually cave under his insistence to take the practice exam.
"You'd think it's his life goal to stuff more students into school and churn out depressed zombies," I grumble as Lucas halfheartedly returns Marth's enthusiastic wave.
"We could've said no," suggests Lucas, and I sigh because I know that he's right, but how could I say no to Marth when he looked desperate for people? For heaven's sake, I only saw one other people on the list. Figures Toon Link would be a nerd.
The F.I.S.T. is a LONG exam. It has four sections: Math, English, History, and Science. Each section has 59 questions and is 75 min long. Max score is 500 in each section, which totals to a whopping 2000 max cumulative score.
It's okay if you didn't catch any of that. Just picture any old standardized exam. The SAT, ACT, TOEFL, whatever. Yeah.
Now triple the bore factor.
Basically, all you need to know is that the whole exam SUCKS.
But though did sign up for the F.I.S.T., knowing that the whole test was gonna be a waste of my time... who said that I was gonna TRY?
Believe me, I don't expect to do too well, considering that halfway through the critical reading section, I dozed off and ended up bubbling 'C' for the rest of the answers with barely seconds to spare. But in the next morning, I'm surprised to see that Marth has actually nailed the list of scores on his apartment door. It's hard not to notice, because there's already this crowd of curious people pointing at the scoreboard and crowding the hallway.
Damn, a lot more people must've signed up for the exam after we did.
"I've finally achieved the true meaning of life," Popo says, wiping a tear from his eye. He looks incredibly pleased of himself amidst the hullabaloo.
.
~oOo~
.
SCORE GUIDELINES FOR EACH SECTION
500: Exceptional
400s: Demonstrates advanced mastery of material
300s: Has a solid foundation
200s: Adequate
100s: Poor
Less than 100: Absymal
F.I.S.T. SCORE REPORT (COMPOSITE)
Toon Link: 1210 (breakdown: 330M_310E_160H_410S)
Ness: 1100 (breakdown: 470M_170E_230H_240S)
Villager: 930 (breakdown: 210M_430E_30H_260S)
Mega Man: N/A (breakdown: 500M_10E_30H_320S)_SYSTEM ERROR_
Nana: 830 (breakdown: 360M_180E_40H_250S)
Red: 800 (breakdown: 200M_200E_200H_200S)
Popo: 420 (breakdown: 90M_290E_20H_20S)
Lucas: 190 (breakdown: 110M_30E_20H_30S)
.
~oOo~
.
...I got the second highest score?
What the fuck?
I shoulder my way next to an awestruck Toon. "Hey, sweet score... but I have no idea what these numbers mean."
"Marth said that scoring around 800-900 is pretty good for no study experience, and that anything over 1000 is amazing," Toon points out, helpful as always. He glances enviously at my breakdown. "How do you have such a good History score?"
History score? I give the list a once over.
Huh.
In short, everyone failed History because seriously what the fuck is Smash City History.
Do you know?
Does anybody in this mansion know?
"Must be 'cause I'm part of the Twelve," I say dumbly. For the first time, I realize how much Peach's constant nagging over the years has actually BOOSTED my score. Well, color me surprised.
Next to the score board, Marth is pre-occupied with a mortified Mega Man.
"I don't understand. The online exam graded your results, but you managed to get an ERROR," Marth says, scratching the back of his neck, utterly baffled. "Why did you have so much trouble with the CAPTCHA at the end-?"
"I told you, I'm a bot. I can't pass the terms and conditions," Mega Man protests louder as if provoked. "If the test is taken online, I can't let the graders publish my results... even if I want to!"
But then, the crowd starts to whisper, and when I let my eyes rest at the bottom of the list, I know why.
Lucas got a 190.
Out of 2000.
And I got second place.
What kind of fucked up black magic is this?
Even Lucas seems shocked by how poorly he did.
"But dude... you're like, half ASIAN," Popo says, glancing at Lucas with the dumbest, most bewildered expression on his face. "It's like in your blood to get perfect scores-"
I scowl, "What the actual fuck, Popo? It's just a stupid standardized test. Leave him alone-"
"But like, it's LUCAS, dude. There's no way he fucked up that bad," Popo laughs, sounding more incredulous by the second. "He knows everything-"
"No, I don't," Lucas suddenly says. He looks defeated, and all of a sudden, it hits me. For as long as I've known him, Lucas has never been like me. He never started middle school. He never took the GED to make up for highschool. His prior academic record was spotty. He always turned in his homework late or forgot because he was either busy being mobbed by older kids or out covering his dad's ass from Porky's debt.
Lucas is smart for sure. Maybe even smarter than most of the adults here.
But on this exam, he never started on the same foot as everyone else.
The playing field had never been fair to begin with.
Overhead in the speakers, Master Hand announces the names for an impending brawl.
Gently ruffling my hair for a job well done, Lucas shoulders past me to his match. The crowd parts before him like rippling quicksilver.
...I don't think I've ever seen him look so alone before.
.
.
.
~oO0Oo~
.
.
.
If there's one thing you learn from the job, it's that gossip spreads like wildfire in Smash Mansion.
Lucas is lucky today, because other rumors have conveniently taken over the grapevine. Namely, relationship gossip.
And no, as true as it sounds, it's NOT the same old rumor about Palutena being Pit's sugar mama. I swear to god, if someone brings this theory up to me one more time, I'm gonna flick them in the forehead because this rumor's circled around the mill for YEARS. Do people really have nothing better to do than to trash talk about the same old things?
So yeah, no.
This time, Pittoo's taken the spotlight.
And if you thought that Lucina's breakup sounded messy, well, then this takes it to a whole new level.
"Woah, woah. Lemme get this straight. Pittoo PUNCHED Chrom in the face on New Years?" I whisper harshly, unable to hide my shock. "Does he want a death wish?"
"Yeah, you weren't there when it happened, but shit, it was pretty bad." Regretfully watching the last of his ice cubes melt, Popo swirls his glass of water around. "Not sure why Pittoo did it, but what did you expect? Pittoo's always been a ticking time bomb ready to explode."
Listening to his words, I have to rest my head against the table from the massive fucking headache I'm feeling, because good god, why is so much happening at once? Why is everyone falling apart?
I flashback to Lucas, and how withdrawn he's been the last few days. Over winter break, I'd hoped that our relationship would've grown more stable since our visit to the Buddhist Temple... but after Flint's tantrum, it's like there's a new wedge stuck in between us. I think of how distant Lucas seems these days, spaced out in his own head.
I wonder if he really loves me.
He never said that he did.
...I wish he did.
But my mind quickly slams the door on my doubts, because what the fuck, Lucas is going through a tough time, he's still grieving on top of the salt rubbed in his wounds, and right now he doesn't need to deal with all my insecure shit. The best way for me to help him is to do what I'm doing now. I gotta support him. I gotta give him space. Besides, he hasn't been neglecting me - FAR from it. We still text each other memes. We still pewpewpew with finger guns whenever we see each other and wanna talk but gotta dash. We've both been super busy the past few days is all.
Popo sets down his glass. "Dude, did you two talk?"
"Not yet. I just arrived two days ago." Catching his drift, I do a double take. "Wait like... you want me to see Pittoo right now? He's probably stuck in a funk-"
"He won't hold it over you, man."
More drama? No thanks. "Oh. Erm... I have to go see Master Hand about Winter Formal stuff-"
"Yeah, but that can wait. Trust me, dude, Master Hand's been crazy busy lately. Maybe you should pop by when he calls for you," Popo suggests. "Pittoo should be free now. You should talk to him since he's looking for you and all-"
"To talk about what? About the fact that his ex dumped him for a good reason despite Chrom being a homophobic asshole?"
"There's always a story behind everything, Nessie. Never forgetti," Popo says sagely, now reaching for his stash. "Huh, I'm out of everything now but pot... ah fuck it, I'm smoking the last of my weed. Scoot scoot if you don't wanna get high-"
"You're out already? I thought you've never OD'ed," I say slowly, and Popo gives into a grimace.
Popo, grimacing?
Come to think of it, he HAS been getting less giggly and more responsive to people lately. Has he run out of drugs to numb himself out?
"Dude, I'm not overdosing-"
"Popo, this shit could get you killed-"
"I'm not overdosing," Popo snaps, totally out of character, but after a few breaths to collect himself, he's sunken back to his lethargic state. "Okay, I'm sorry, I'll spill. Snake's decided to take the year off, which sucks, because he actually knows where to get the good stuff. He's off on a RECON mission back in his world, so I gotta find myself a new meth dealer-" When I throw his stash of weed a look, Popo impatiently waves me off. "Dude, lemme smoke this joint in peace. I'll be fine, man. Weed's not like meth. Good weed's as safe as a sleeping babe, and hella easy to find." I must still look worried, because Popo's face softens. "Ness, chillax. I know what I'm doing. Now quit worrying your ass over me, and get ready to sin this Sunday," he finishes, wiggling his eyebrows in a stupid suggestive manner, and I can't help but crack up.
I don't know why Popo signed me up for remedial couple counseling, but I mean, since Pittoo was SUPPOSEDLY looking for me... I guess I might as well go. With a long suffering sigh, I push myself off the cafeteria bench and head off in search of an elusive gothy angel.
Lobby, library, penthouse?
Yeah... nope. I don't see him.
Third floor, up we go.
The elevator doors ding open, and I peer outside. Doesn't seem like anyone's here. Just as I plan to step back in to the elevator, I halt when I hear Chrom's raised voice - not a good sign. As quietly as I can, I hurry over to the source of discord.
Nearing the argument however, though I'm disappointed to see that the other voice isn't Pittoo, I am surprised to see Marth of all people actually intervening, since he's one of the brawlers who tends to remove himself from a heated situation.
"-I have resided in this city longer than you have, Chrom. At the very least, consider her happiness-"
"And let the kingdom fall into ruin for her personal ventures? She was aware of her future engagement to Robin before the tournament, to which she was all too glad to accept-"
"But the proposal was never signed, desu ne?" When Chrom says nothing, folding up his arms, Marth gives a short sigh. "Chrom, feelings are like a battlefield. They change over time, but the experience she'll gain will help her steady the borders. What harm is a temporary teenage fling? She is still young. She does not have to keep up pretenses here... Not unless you tell the Alteans back home."
Chrom flings his arms up in a fit of frustration. "You've seen the boy, Marth. He's not ALTEAN, much less a human. He... he is an ANGEL, far more immature than anyone whom I have ever met, whose immortality and lack of tact may endanger the royal empire to corruption-"
"Your worry is strategically sound, but antagonizing your daughter is a bad move on your own behalf."
"You of all people should know better. I suspect that you take her side since she looks up to you as a role model," Chrom says bitterly. "Marth, you may be the Hero King, but it will do you well to remember that she is not Elice."
"I do not see your point-"
"Lucina is not your sister, Marth."
A pregnant pause.
His fingers slowly touching the tiara on his hair, Marth lowers his head. "You are right, Lucina is not my sister. Yet, she is your daughter, Chrom."
"-which gives me all the more reason to protect her. The Altea you once knew is not the Altea you know now. It's been centuries since your last breath touched our kingdom. I am older than you in this realm, and I have witnessed more bloodshed and suffering than an average man should in his lifetime. You have no right to intervene in our family affairs-"
"Yes, but I am her Ascendant," Marth says quietly. "Just as I must remind you that I am also yours."
Chrom stiffens up. "We are not in Altea anymore. This is Smash City. Age will not command respect as it would in our homelands-"
"Then by the same definition, Lucina does not have to abide by your will. She is a good daughter, Chrom, and a clever girl. Deep down, I'm sure she knows that the relationship cannot last, but who are we to deny her temporary happiness? Support her. Leave her be. Do not sow grudges that can be avoided, lest you wish to sever the roots supporting the tree."
Then Marth leans over, lowering his voice to mutter something else to him in another language, and Chrom's expression tightens.
"Don't you dare compare this to them. Lucas is not a true Japanese, he is only a half-blood, and an utter disgrace to our heritage-"
I force a loud cough, and both heads turn to me. It suddenly occurs to me that both men are intimidating in different ways.
"Hi, just wanted to ask if either of you've seen Pittoo around," I say rather aggressively. Cause you know, you don't stand there and tolerate the shade being thrown at you or your SO.
Chrom's face turns 50 shades of sour before he turns on his heel. We watch him stride away without a word.
"Unfortunately, I have not. But Lucina was in the West Wing of the lobby not too long ago," Marth confesses, but his smile looks slightly strained. When I turn to leave, Marth calls out to me. "Ah... and Ness." When raise my eyebrows in response, he closes his eyes with another long suffering sigh. "I would suggest you not to provoke Chrom for the next few weeks. He is not... what is the word..." Marth frowns, but failing to figure out the proper translation, awkwardly settles for a close second, patting me on the shoulder. "...tolerant."
Another caped figure appears at the doorway. "Marth," it calls out.
"Ike," Marth responds, registering his presence with a nod.
"I saw Chrom storming off to the elevators. Figured that your chat was over." Ike's eyes flicker to me, then to his attentive listener. "Are you two well."
"That we are. But alas, some men are not malleable to the customs of this time and age," Marth says gravely, but he looks more weary than I've ever seen him. For the first time, Marth looks over a hundred years old, and I wonder how old he is in Chrom's timeline. "Well, I take my leave. The textbooks do not study themselves! Good day to you, Ness."
...Well.
I guess Pittoo is nowhere to be found.
But I'm not about to leave my quest empty-handed, so I walk over to my nearest destination. Sure enough, as Marth has said, Lucina's polishing her blade on a windowsill of the West Wing. The sunlight catches her rippling blue hair, making it look like it's on fire.
Though we've never shared a word for the past two months, I feel like there's this kind of silent understanding between us... especially after we sinned with the wrong people and became the relationship outcasts of the tourney.
"Hello Ness," Lucina responds, lowering her sword. She looks despondent. "What brings you here?"
"Good question, I haven't the foggiest idea," I say, propping myself up against the ledge to join her. "Someone told me Pittoo smashed your dad's face in."
Lucina winces.
...Fuck, I'm horrible at subtlety.
"Well, you aren't wrong," she gives a mirthless laugh. With her bloodshot eyes and sallow cheeks, Lucina looks just as tired as Marth. "I suppose you heard about the break up? Word spreads quickly in the Mansion."
"You two looked happy-"
"But it was not meant to be." With a painful grimace, Lucina sheathes her sword. "Ness... we loved each other, but we weren't always as happy as we looked. There was a lot going on underneath the surface. My father highly disapproved of an interdimensional relationship-"
"Yeah, I kinda figured."
"-and it had been a source of friction long before you left for winter break. While I knew that Pittoo didn't get along with my father, I thought that Pittoo would have at least tried. But when he lost his temper here at the New Years party and hit my dad... I had to draw the line. I confronted him. He tried to explain, but I didn't want to listen, we broke up, and... and he got surprisingly upset. He's refused to talk to me since. So I suppose we haren't been on the best of terms." Lucina pauses. "To be honest, I'm a little jealous of you, Ness. You and Lucas seem to have such a good relationship."
"A good relationship?" I give a hollow laugh. "Nah, we're going through some tough times too-"
"But you're going through them together," Lucina says sadly. "I wonder... if I'd trusted Pittoo to the extent you two trusted each other... then we might never have broken up in the first place."
.
.
.
~oO0Oo~
.
.
.
As frustrating as it is, I don't get the chance to check on Lucas for the next few days.
Despite rooming together, we don't even get to see each other.
For whatever reason, Lucas rises early these days, even earlier than me. Occasionally, he does his fun-but-odd-roommate-quirk and leaves behind a sticky note, that he's got extra pancakes for me to eat in the fridge, or that I remember to turn off the AC after its use, but aside from the one-liners (which I've kept over the years because they're hella funny, okay), he doesn't write much else. Which is okay, because you know, he's not like one of those passive aggressive crazies who sticky notes EVERYTHING. Usually, on a fortuitous day, Lucas leaves behind a sticky note because he either wants to cheer me up or doesn't have the time to tell me something mundane in person.
His sticky notes definitely lean on the silly end of his character.
This time, I peel off his sticky note from the fridge (Hairy the Llama wants you to finish the extra pancakes), grin at the llama in fancy eyeglasses and tophat doodled in the upper left corner, and scrawl a reply of my own on another sticky note before gratefully taking out the fluffy blueberry goodness.
But sticky notes aren't the best tool to gauge how someone is doing, and I knew that a good convo was long overdue.
It's only been days since we last talked, but whenever both of us get busy again around the earlier half of the year, I start missing the little things I'd taken for granted. Like hanging out at lunch. Or working out together. At least for the Winter tourney, we were training together because we had to. Now, we're more like scheduling brawls whenever we're free and crossing our fingers that we'll find time left over.
On another note, Peach's ballroom dancing lessons have practically consumed my entire life. All of its slots have taken over my once-free nights. By the time I return home late, exhausted and tripping over my shoes, Lucas is already sound asleep. The only time I've seen Lucas awake at this hour was when I returned home two nights later, and that was when I caught him hunched over the dinner table, penning a check to his dad.
My stomach lurches.
I'm not sure why I feel this way. Maybe it's just the goddamn stress of the past week and Marth's stupid practice exam, but then it's like Chrom's shit-talking was the final straw that snapped the camel's back.
Suddenly, I feel angry at Flint for being such an asshole to his only son. Like, who the fuck disowns his SON, then asks him for money? And what more could a dad possibly find more important than LOVING his own SON?! Like, what the fuck?!
But while Lucas has remained pretty tight-lipped over the whole fiasco, it doesn't take much to realize that his dad's done more than disown him. This makes me wonder what really transpired between the two, and if his dad's said some nasty stuff about me. But while Lucas admitted that he was disowned the night he stumbled onto my doorstep, he did say that the details didn't matter, and refused to open up any more on the subject no matter how hard I prodded and whined.
Watching Lucas quietly add the finishing touches to his letter and seal the envelope, I wonder what I've done to deserve someone like him.
...It's decided.
I'm gonna snuggle the fuck out of him tonight.
Best part is that Lucas doesn't even look up from the couch when I sneak into his lap for some much needed cuddling. "...Long day?"
"Shush you, I dun wanna talk about it," I mumble, eyes drooping. "Less talk, more cuddle."
"Mm," Lucas agrees, returning to his beloved book, but when I feel his magic tickle my shoulders in delighted sparks, sinking into my skin and soothing the sore muscles in my back, I can't help but smile wide.
I hug him tight. "I missed you," I playfully lisp, and while Lucas doesn't say anything back, another hot flurry of sparks excitedly hops up my arms.
"I was thinking... We should plan ahead. Hang out sometime this month."
"That's a good idea, January's been fucking crazy. When are you free?"
"I've got brawls booked until the weekend. Popo's birthday is coming up this Sunday, so we could do Saturda-"
"I got a patrol shift Saturday... and next weekend," I say helplessly when Lucas opens his mouth to suggest. "I'm covering for Peach, remember?"
"Master Hand said that the Bill passed, so we don't have to worry about patrol duty after February," Lucas mutters, now playing with my hair. "I could do shifts with you-"
"You've already got your shift for next week, don't ask for overtime-"
"I could use the money-"
"I think all shifts are taken though, you could ask MetaKnight if he- yeaaah right there-" I sigh when Lucas scratches me in a special spot right in the back of my head. "That feels gooood-"
"Scritch, scratch," Lucas says, but he's cracked a small smile so I guess he's okay with putting up with my weirdness. I tug his arms off my head, instead deciding to trace circles into the back of his hands.
"I know, your dad made a mistake borrowing from Porky... but in the end, it's his debt, not yours," I mumble, and I feel Lucas's arms stiffen against me.
"You'd do the same for your dad," he mutters, and I don't really have anything to say to that, because he's right.
"It's not fair. It's YOUR money. You don't owe your dad shit," I insist instead.
At this, Lucas releases a defeated sigh. "You're right. But it's... well... My dad couldn't pay on time once," he says, lowering his eyes to the floor. "I returned home from school to see him getting beaten up by Porky's debtors. That was the day I decided we needed more money, Ness. That was the reason I became a drug runner." A pause. "I know it's wrong, but I feel like I at least owe him financially... just financially, nothing else," he says, giving my hands a light squeeze as if to reassure me. "Trust me, I'm not trying to excuse him for negligence, and I'm not going to send him my paycheck forever, but I don't want him to land in jail. It's the least I can do. Just until I clear the debt... please?"
Not completely satisfied, but knowing that this is the best compromise I'll get for now, I decide to change the subject. "...Are you really sure you're okay? You haven't been eating much lately," I say, now worrying my hand over his forehead. "You're gonna get sick, go eat your pills."
.
.
.
~oO0Oo~
.
.
.
The reason behind Master Hand's apparent lag makes itself clear on Friday.
"SiNGLe FiLE, yOU NiTwiTS," Crazy Hand screeches, jabbing a finger to the elevators. "YeAH iM taLKiN tO yOU iN tHe bAcK, yOU'LL hAVe mOrE TiME tO ExPLoRe LaTeR!"
"It's been years since we've had new applicants," Toon Link whispers in astonishment, watching a twitching Crazy Hand usher a large crowd of new faces (and old, judging from Chrom's) into Master Hand's office. "I think they've been screened in for the final interview round."
"I guess so. Looks like we've got a good turnout of villains too," I respond dumbly when I see Wario bounce over to a sheepish-looking Waluigi with a happy 'WA' and give him a hearty slap on the back. This reminds me of when I spotted a nervous Lucas for his interview years ago, and I grin. Craning my head above a row of odd applicants, I think I even spot what looks like a King Crocodile with a golden potbelly before he eyes us with a leer. Off to the side, hollering and screeching up a racket, Donkey Kong and Diddy don't look too happy with their newest guest.
But when a withered, pterodactyl-looking monster ducks under the doorframe to join the back of the line, picking his nails and flashing a beady yellow eye at a shuddering Mario, I don't need a hint to know who this is.
Not believing her eyes, Samus roughly pushes her way to the front of the crowd. "Who invited you here."
"Where are your manners, space girl," Ridley says snidely, looking down at her.
"Get out. You're not welcome."
Ridley gives a low click, distastefully glancing over at the hanging chandelier on the ceiling. "Temper, temper. It would be a shame if Master Hand had to boot out one of the outstanding Twelve onto the curb. I can't say I didn't try before. For a small fleshy thing, you are annoyingly difficult to kill." He twitches. "But I suppose it's better off being fired for misconduct than being offed the same way as your mum-"
A low charging of the blaster cuts him off.
"Mark my words, I will avenge my mother," Samus says in a deadly whisper, aiming the blaster at his head.
The two size each other up.
"RiDleY," Crazy Hand then screeches, swinging over to pluck him into the air like a bedraggled kitten. "trYinG tO BE lAtE fOR YoUR iNTeRViEW? AnD INSuLTiNG tHE gREaT SAmUS aRAn? hOW RuDE! mY brOThEr WiLL hEAr AbOUt tHIs!"
"Allright, now put me down," Ridley snarls, wriggling himself free from his grip before dropping to the ground. "I will bite your pinky off if you pick me up one more time-"
"sCArY, ScARy." Crazy Hand spasms, wagging a finger in threat, which begins to glow. Ridley hisses and recoils back as if recognizing his OP power. "oOH, i proPosE sOMetHinG eVeN mORe fUN! wHY dOnT yOU BiTe mE, aNd i rEaSSEmBLe aLL tHe mOLeCuLEs iN yOUr bODy? eH?"
The glow dies.
Then, as if nothing happened, Crazy Hand cackles and zooms off, singing, "cHOP, ChOp, kiTTeN, mY bRoTHeR iS A MeAN fELLoW wHo dOEsnT lIKe tO WaIT!"
Shooting Samus a final nasty glower, Ridley crawls off, his tail grating unpleasantly against the mansion floor. A few more applicants trickle in before the line disappears around the corner. Even from the front door, I can hear the cheerful chime of elevators in the lobby.
We're barely budged one step though before Crazy Hand hurtles back over to our heads.
"aND yOUU-" Crazy Hand shrieks, suddenly zooming into existence to prod down Samus's blaster with a pinky. "-nEEd a CHiLL pILL."
"Ridley killed my parents-"
"aH, AH! CiTY of SeCOnD cHAnCES!"
"He gave Mario a concussion and broke Mega Man's back when they offered him an interview invite," Samus deadpans, and Crazy Hand lifts up his palm in warning.
"i gOt tHe DEaLEO. I LiKE yoU, SaMUs, i rEAAALLy do. YoURe noT a cOMplETe dOrK LiKe nEsS-"
"Hey!" I protest.
"bUT bUsiNESS iS BuSInEsS, aND yOu Of aLL pEOpLe sHOuLd kNOw bETTeR ThAN ThAT." When Samus reluctantly concedes his point and lowers her blaster, Crazy Hand seems to soften. I dunno how I know. Must be my Empathy link, I guess. "hEY, sAM-SaM. sToP bY mY oFFicE iN tWo. i hAVe sOMetHinG fOR yOU AnD yOuR ROOmMaTE MaYonnAisE tO ShARe-"
"Bayonetta."
"MaYoNEttA, bAYoNeTTa, cLOse eNOugH," Crazy Hand cackles, wiggling his fingers in farewell. "tOODLEe dOO!"
This ominous 'something to share' is revealed later today, when I stumble into Samus right after a brawl.
Mouth agape, I watch the furry gray poofball purr in Samus's arms. "Is that a-?"
"Kitten. Name's Cereza," Samus confirms, stroking its warm fur.
"Did you name-"
"Bayo did. Thought it'd be funny if we adopted herself. Hardy har har." Samus heaves a sigh. The kitten lets out an almost inaudible 'mew' as it bats at Samus's uncertain hand with white-tipped legs. "Not sure how this got past Master Hand's radar, but Crazy Hand broke the NO PETS rule and snuck a kitten in. Thought I could use a therapy cat. I don't need one, but I think this fellow's gotten pretty attached to me. Thank god it isn't a dog though, Master Hand absolutely hates dogs-"
"POPEYES!" Wheezing for breath, Ike rounds the curve of the stairs with a loud bellow that makes us jump. He looks unusually flustered. "Uh... have either of you seen a dog around here."
"I didn't even know you owned a dog," Samus frowns.
"I did. Unofficially. Since last year." Looking reluctant to explain, Ike caves in under Samus's eyes with a gruff, "I like to drop by one of the stages after hours, but today... I accidentally left the portal open. One of the Nintendogs escaped-"
Alert in an instant, Samus starts hoisting her blaster around. "A Nintendog? Where?"
"Don't shoot, it's small! It likes to cause trouble, help me find it," Ike protests.
"Well then, what does it look like?" Samus says impatiently.
A terrified yelp echoes around the lobby.
Looking absolutely frightened out of his wits, Fox darts out from the base of the stairs to hide behind Samus, who accidentally drops Cereza from her arms. Disgruntled by the fall, Cereza hisses at the new arrival, her tail flicking in displeasure.
Then a tiny bright-eyed golden retriever yips over, struggling to catch up to Fox with its short stubby legs.
"D-dog!" Fox shakily points from his perch around Samus's back. "It's trying to chase me-"
Samus dumps him onto the ground. "Can it, Fox. You're not afraid of Duck Hunt Dog-"
"That's because Duck Hunt Dog's fucking intelligent, unlike this savage untamed beast-" Not taking this remark too kindly, a nearby Duck Hunt Dog turns around to growl at him, curling his upper lip, and Fox cowers behind Samus when Ike's Nintendog lets loose an excited bark. "Please, Samus," Fox begs. "I hate dogs, I fucking hate them-"
"Here, Popeyes," Ike clucks, kneeling to the ground and clucking his tongue a second time. In an instant, the pupper yips to him with the most adorable face possible.
"You named your dog POPEYES?" I say in disbelief, and Ike shrugs.
"He liked the chicken I brought him. Thanks for the take out. I'll wire you tonight."
"Yeah... no prob," I say, my eyes wide at the adorable bundle of joy wriggling around Ike's biceps because seriously, how the fuck does a puppy look so adorable oh god I CANT STOP LOOKING.
"(LOVE ME)" the puppy yips, wagging its tail in pure joy.
...Oh yeah. A little late, but I can understand animals. Usually talking to animals is a one-way street, like talking to Pokemon, so I can only understand what THEY say... except that Pokemon are insanely smart and understand human speech so I don't have to fucking know how to speak Pokemon for them to understand ME.
Take Lucas for instance. He's fluent in Snake. He can speak pretty good Dog too, though with a strong lab accent. You'd think this would make learning new human languages a breeze, but you'd be wrong.
I think my Dog's gotten a little rusty.
This golden retriever though, looks too young to understand much English yet.
As if summoned to the spot, an exhausted Lucas trudges over in my direction, looking deadbeat after finishing his ninth brawl of the day.
"Lucas, holy shit," I yell, cupping my hands around my mouth to catch his attention. "There's a baby-"
Instantly, Lucas makes a sharp turn for the front door. "Nope-"
"-dog."
Just as quickly, Lucas whirls back around, his eyes lighting up as if I'd told him the mansion was made of chocolate. "WHERE."
His question is answered by the excited puppy escaping from Ike's arms. The pupper bounds over to lick me messily in the face.
"AAH, hey hey, SIT."
Lowering its ears, the golden retriever whines in disappointment and falls onto its haunches. "(SIT? I KNOW WORD! I sit, I sit. Am I good boy now?)" it pants, wagging its tail. "(I get pets? Please, friend. Pet me?)"
Aw man.
How can you say no to that face?
So when the puppy begs for more pets, I give it a hearty scratch around the neck.
The instant I say "good boye," it leaps back into my arms - with no hesitation whatsoever - and I clumsily stumble under its weight with a laugh. I love dogs. They're the purest creatures to walk this earth. They're all good boyes.
"(Belly rub? Belly rub?)" It insists, falling onto the floor to roll over onto its back.
At this point, Lucas has yet to say a single word, but fuck it if the look on his face says it all.
When Lucas crouches down, reaching over to gently scratch the dog behind its ears, the doggo perks up and jumps into his lap to seek more attention.
"(Love me)," it borks, pawing at Lucas's striped shirt and nudging its wet nose into Lucas's hands. "(Am I good doggo? Belly rub? Oh, please tell me I'm a good boye awooo.)"
...I think Lucas is ready to die of happiness.
So it's with reluctance (and relief on Fox's end) when Ike finally carries the good boi back up the stairs, but I'm glad to see that Lucas's shoulders have relaxed during the short encounter. While I wanna buy him a puppy so badly... or even bring King to the Mansion, neither of us have the time nor the money to take care of a dog right now. And as much as it hurts, I bet Lucas knows that too.
You can't just gift someone a pet because they want it. It's definitely a gift that takes a lot of prior planning.
...but damn holy fuck, that was one seriously cute puppy.
I really hope Master Hand lets Ike keep Popeyes.
"There's no way that secret's gonna last long with Master Hand around," Samus notes, and Fox quietly slinks away, humiliated by the reveal of his morbid phobia.
Like a child who's discovered candy for the first fucking time, Lucas stares longingly after the puppy until I nudge him in the side. "Upstairs?" I mumble.
Lucas tears his eyes away and follows me to the elevator.
.
.
.
~oO0Oo~
.
.
.
Welcome to the 5th floor, home to the newly established SMASH Agency.
I think it all finally makes sense now.
The reason Master Hand didn't bother with our shipping scandal last year... was because he was being overworked. And glancing at the updated schedule on my phone, courtesy of an Emergency Twelve meeting this morning, Mario managed to make everything clear.
As omnipotent as he is, Master Hand can't be everywhere at once.
With the roster expanding like a limousine next year, Master Hand's got an impossible load on his hands. So with the start of Smash Ultimate, he's signed a new policy: Each Smasher is to hire a personal agent. This means that every agent would be in charge of their Smasher's day-to-day shenanigans - including scheduling brawls, averting shipping scandals, and so forth. This also means that Master Hand would only be notified of the shit that really matters, and so, won't waste his time on the shit that DOESN'T matter.
As a part of the Twelve, I've got it easy. I've been assigned one of the best agents hired by Master Hand himself.
But as for the other Smashers, well... that really depends on their budget.
So while Lucas doesn't have the highest salary, there's no way I'm gonna let some sleezy incompetent douchebag force Lucas's rep down on a nosedive.
That's why we're here right now: chillin' in a nice office-slash-housing-quarters in the 5th floor as Lucas meets up with the job applicants one by one, trying to pick and choose the best agent to handle his politics and inner affairs.
"I liked the second dude with the goatee, he seemed nice," I suggest, and Lucas shakes his head in frustration.
"He had shadier motives in mind."
"Oh. Well... the third dude had an impressive resume-"
"I can't afford his minimum wage-" The door knocks, and Lucas calls the last applicant in.
Considering that Mother 3 was never released worldwide, there's honestly so few applicants that I'm starting to get a little worried until the door opens to the fifth, and final, applicant.
He has a limp in one leg.
"Hello," says the soft-spoken man, shaking Lucas's hand. "Lucas, is it? It's a pleasure to meet you. The name is Duster."
Lucas and I share a glance.
It's a no brainer.
Despite his currently unemployed status and spotty retroactive amnesia, Duster is an honest man. He has nothing to hide, and Lucas verifies it. I think that Lucas has taken a liking for the dude as his agent, which is saying a lot, and honestly, I can't say that I disagree with his choice.
"Thanks for hiring me," Duster says, relieved, now tucking Lucas's profile into his tattered briefcase with another handshake and a smile that seems to wipe the tired bags from his eyes. "Well... I guess this room is my office now. Lucas, let me know which times you want to schedule brawls in February, and I'll add them into the system. It seems like after next week, I can let you know if Master Hand plans on changing your Final Smash this December-" As if noticing me, Duster's eyes flicker to my face in surprise. "And you are..."
"Ness," I say, firmly shaking his hand. "Please take good care of him."
"Don't worry, I'll do my best," he assures me, sitting down when Lucas offers him a free chair behind his freshly furnished desk. "But first... Ness, I need to contact your agent as soon as possible. Can you give me his business card? We need to discuss the media backlash over your shipping scandal, and I think both of you would sleep a little more soundly knowing that false news isn't going to damage your rep-"
"I like him," Lucas says once we step out of the interview room - now Duster's new office and home.
"Yeah, I could tell. I'm kinda surprised. You don't normally warm up to strangers this well, "I agree.
"He looks familiar," is all Lucas says, the wistful look entering his eyes again. "I think we can trust him."
Well then, that's as good enough response as any.
Author's Note:
Lucas writing little sticky notes is inspired by one of my closest friends. As for fingergunning, that's a bad habit of mine.
*In Fire Emblem, Marth lives in Altea and has an older sister named Elice
*In Lucina's game (also a Fre Emblem series), Lucina and Robin are implied to be a canon couple, although the ending is open to interpretation
*Chrom and Lucina are descendants of Marth (which is an interesting dynamic, since these characters are from different timelines in this AU)
*Ridley is the arch nemesis of Samus in Metroid
*Bayonetta adopts her child self (Cereza) in canon
*There is a Nintendog stage in Sm4sh
*Some SmashU (Smash Ultimate) characters, wannabe SmashU characters (rip Waluigi), and character reveal trailers make a cameo
*In Mother 3, Lucas adventures in a party with Duster, Boney, and Kumatora
*Snake's absence in the next tournament represents his absence from Sm4sh
*BONUS FACT: Meth (a drug commonly known as Methamphetamine) is a powerful stimulant. Two common symptoms of meth are (a) being overly talkative (hence Popo's rep for being a chatterbox and spreading office gossip) and (b) personality changes. Personality fluctuations can be drastic between someone under its effects vs the same person under withdrawal.