No. Mighty Ducks, the animated series not mine.
But Princess Ambrosia and story are mine
...oOo...
.: Chapter V :.
...oOo...
.
"I'm bored…" the younger one complained, rocking on his heels as he tickled liquid glass, his reflection marred by ripples undulated. He grumbled, "And you're doing a fine job ignoring me…"
He tugged at the chain binding him to the frustrated Magus, forcing her wand away from the column of water swirling in the air with her concentration. The Spell broken, she glared at the attention-seeker, "What now?!"
The blond youth shrugged, and opened his beak, "Everything too perfectly peaceful… And since I can't stand it being so perfectly peaceful, talk to me before I resort chaotic behavior creating mayhem that'll ruin your spell anyway – and believe you me, I'll do it, because you're ignoring me… and I don't like being ignored… So tell me, what'cha working on that's taking so darn long – involving a bunch of weeds, a bucket of water and a cup of sugar, no less…"
For a moment the Lady Magician was silent, though it was hard to determine if she was in awe of his lung capacity managing to articulate all in less than one breath, or contemplating his murder and how she could accomplish such without endangering her profession. Finally she crumbled, smacking herself with a palm and groaning into it.
"If I tell you this once, will you please be quiet and let me work…?"
"I guess…" he chirped cheerful, smirking, For about all of 5 minutes, that is…
"An Origins Spell…" came her answer, giving in to his demands as she reclaimed her wrist, "It'll help the Queen when she returns to us…"
Origin…? he yanked it back, "How so? By sending her back to her homeland?"
"By returning her to her truest shape and form, closing physical damages and negating magical energies," she returned snappishly, a tug-of-war initiated between them. "I used the same Spell tending to the King…" Turning away from him in hopes of resuming her duties, she lifted the water vessel with her hands, "Now, I believe I've entertained you long enough, please allow me to return to my task of ignoring you for the rest of the day…"
Having said that, she left him to his own mischief once more…
But of course, he could cause such mischief…
A wicked idea struck him, and he grinned. Not if I can help it…
He pulled with all his might, and to his delight, her stool toppled backwards, sending her to the water's edge, ribbons and robes trailing. The bowl in her hands made an arc in the sky, a mockery of flight.
There was a loud splash.
He burst into helpless laughter.
A bonk, a sheet of water falling down, a curse, "Aww, man – I just washed this tunic…!!"
The aforementioned crockery mimicking the birds had had enough of inequilibrium, choosing to land upside-down upon the youth's head, contents overturned…. The sight would've been comical…
However, the Sorceress was less-than-enthusiastic at the moment, preoccupied by the fact she was sitting hip-deep in water, her robes drenched. She glared daggers at the culprit of her misfortune, wishing half-heartedly that looks could kill. Dragging herself out of her water-bound prison, her hands aimed for his neck, "Why you littl—"
The bowl was knocked away from the boy's head.
She gasped.
"A… patch?!"
He wiped the water from his eyes, confused, "Wha…?"
"A patch! A patch!!" she repeated, eyes wide as she held his head in her hands, "A patch on your beak…!! The only one in history to ever bear a patch was His Majesty's little brother… Unless…"
Realization dawned. Their eyes locked, "You're—"
...oOo...
"—alive…?!?"
"Yes, she is…"
The smaller one let out the breath she was holding, "Thank DuCaine…!!"
His cape unclasped, the gray-feathered Knight afforded his Mistress her modesty, covering her pale form from wandering eyes, may they be friend or foe. Her Personal Guard cradled her bleeding back, a prayer of forgiveness whispered against her cheek for such crude transportation. Both sought to abandon these forsaken prisons, "Quickly, we must gather with the others before they notic—"
A wall of armored Saurians leapt before their eyes at a turn in the corridors. Sighting intruders, they drew their weapons. Heavily outnumbered, the pair protecting the Kingdom's Jewel fled in the opposite direction.
"So much for a stealthy retreat…!!"
The hallways split, one leading to the courtyard, another to the tower. The elder Knight skidded to a stop, "We must separate – you take Her Majesty to the horses, I'll cover your back…"
"I can't leave you…!!" his fairer comrade-in-arms hissed, her emerald eyes wide, "They'll massacre you, tear you limb from lim—"
"You must – I am nothing compared to She who rests in your arms," he barked. In the moonlight, he caught the fear in her dilated pupils. He knew the look in her eyes and sighed, "Please… Do this for me…"
Guttural voices echoed from the depths of the castle, the glare of torches coming closer.
"Promise me you'll return, or I'll—"
"We have no time for thi—"
"Promise me!!" she insisted.
He leaned forward, about to catch her lips, then abruptly pulled away. She frowned at him.
A roguish smile, "I'll come back to finish that…"
Not a promise, but a compromise. The braided Knight nodded, once. "Don't you dare disappoint me…"
"By the Blood and the Blade…" the Brotherhood promise was a vow not to be taken lightly.
He watched her disappear into the shadows, her footsteps growing faint. Attention undivided, he drew his sword to face the oncoming threat.
"THERE HE IS, MEN…!!"
He took a stance and shut his eyes to the world, a breath to prepare himself. They thundered towards him, this lone Swordsmaster, seemingly no match for the legion descending upon his vulnerable being…
"That's right, you overgrown dunderheads… Follow me, take the bait…"
The first warrior lunged for him. He muttered a prayer to the Heavens, snapped his eye open, and struck—
Blood danced in the air.
The victor grinned as he admired the dark puddle pooling at his feet, "And they all… fall… down…"
...oOo...
She fled into the night, her cherry-colored braid flying behind her, leaving the chaos she had stirred behind her. A scant forest surrounded her. A little more… A little more…
Hoof-beats to her left and behind her… Letting her charge fall to the ground, her hand reached for her hilt. The blade left its scabbard, poised and lusting for blood…
"Sword Sister…!!"
Her arm shook with relief as she lowered her sword to the ground, eyes fluttering close. A shake of the head, and she was refreshed. Sheathing her weapon, the petite sword-bearer acknowledged the lesser Knight as he approached, her horse trotting beside him, "Aye… and I have Her Majesty with me…"
"It was you that had her, then…?" her companion commented, tilting his head. At her furrowed brow, he proceeded to explain, "We heard an order from our Commander to fall back, our mission complete. His Majesty brought with him an infirmed and rode ahead. It was not the Queen, thus we were told to wait for her return. Eight of the Brotherhood has come, and you…"
"Only ten of the original 16…?" she exclaimed, "Wait – any sign of the Royal Knight…?"
"Nay… we were still waiting for him when our company spotted you—"
Her heart caught in her throat. Hurriedly, she thrust the frail figurine into his arms, "Here, take Her Majesty to safer borders…"
"At once, Sword Sister, but… what are you doing?"
She swung herself onto her chestnut mare. The horse snorted as it was pivoted to face the opposite direction, head guided by the gentlest hand on its rein.
"What does it look like – I'm going back for the others…"
A small kick by its side urged it forward, the trot gradually gathering speed into a fierce gallop into the dark of a horizontal abyss…
The wind like a shard of ice against her cheeks, she snarled under her breath, "Especially one 6-foot-tall grinning idiot who better keep his word, or so help me…"
...oOo...
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…
And right now, her enemies were thinking twice about trying to sever her head from her shoulders…
This, unfortunately, led to their own demise, for she had no hesitations, blinded by her mission of hearts…
They fell away like autumn leaves, dead and dying, quelled quickly by her berserker temper. To the left… to the right… Down, down, down…
Where are you, ye arrogant bastar—
"If you're looking for your precious leader, missy," her current opponent sneered, "Don't bother – our General took care of him, well and good, when you ran away with the Princess…"
The Maiden Knight gasped, staring at the lone Saurian left standing. For the first time this night, she was afraid, No…
Righteous fury burned at her core, fueling her actions. Lashing out, she pressed the Saurian up against a wall, blade pressed against his throat, "You lie…"
The cocky creature grinned, lips parting to display his reptilian fangs, "No, I'm not…" A flicker of amber eyes, "It's almost as true as me telling you there's an arrow aimed at your back, so you'll join him soon…" A dark chuckle, "And I'll live another day, to kill your precious Monarch…"
Tears threatened to cloud her vision as she felt her control slip, its sting unfamiliar at the corner of her eyes. Her Commander was dead… her friend was dead… her beloved was dea—
A string strummed once, a deadly missile on its way.
Wait… that doesn't sound like a Saurian bow…
She laughed. Her captive frowned.
One word, "Die…"
She reversed their positions. There was an audible thud, and the vile thing in her hands tensed. Her blade made short work of his armor, decorating the floor with his lifeblood…
Not far from her, a shadow slumped forward with a groan. Before it could fall, she caught it by the shoulder, a hand against its chest.
"You were supposed to be guarding my back, not aiming at it…" came her voice tipped with steel, chiding gently as she dragged the heavier being to its feet. His glare pierced the thin light, a slight growl at the edge of his tongue. One-eyed, chipped beak – there was no mistake…
"I just save your life, Sweetheart – a second time, may I add – and this is what I get for it?!" the seasoned warrior grumbled as he reached for the blade beside a wall, "Some gratitude…"
"Hush… may I thank you properly once we're out of harm's way…" came her sharp suggestion before her voice softened, "I almost believed it…"
"What?"
"That you were dead…"
A laugh, "Alas for him, and you, it appears I'm not…" Then a wince, a hand pressed against a bleeding wound. Previously hidden by the shadows, she had not noticed the spear protruding from his side, "Actually, I hurt too much to be dead…"
"Just a little more and we'll be—" was her encouragement, only to halt altogether, "Oh my…"
He looked up to see what she saw, and muttered tiredly, "This is getting repetitive…"
Another ambush, another trap. Not only a trap, but one in the Overlord's chambers…
And the Crimson Terror was waiting for them…
"Welcome, Puckworlders…" the crested Dragonling greeted, his voice dripping with venom, "I do hope you'll stay… for dinner…"
Raucous laughter all around, the Royal Knight cursed. He struggled to stand, holding onto his comrade's petite shoulder. A hushed whisper, his last command, "Second belt, back pocket; blue sphere…"
"I have it…" she returned, hands curled around the item, eyes watching the circle surrounding them close as they pressed against each other's back, "Now what?"
"Drop it, HARD!!"
She did so.
The sphere shattered.
An arc of white.
And just as the light blinded their eyes, he reached out for her, "I think it's time we finished that kiss…"
...oOo...
From the eyes of a god, a spark winked at him from the barren earth.
He raised an eyebrow.
A beam shot heavenwards, an explosion at its root widening into a circle of light.
He shielded his eyes.
The light faded, the dust cleared…
And in its wake, the crumbling ruins of the Raptor…
For the first time in a decade, he smiled…
.
If only others could share in Heaven's mirth.
...oOo...
Contrary to legend, from the ashes, a Dragon rose from the dead…
.
The enraged Overlord glared at the remains of his once standing fortress. Scattered haphazardly around him were the corpses of those loyal to his command. An entire army wiped out by two self-sacrificing do-gooders…
He let out a gut-wrenching roar—
Wait…! Movement, under the rubble…
Crawling out of the fallen Raptor, three Saurians hobbled to their Master. They fell to their knees, "M'Lord… We lived to serve you…"
Three… only three… Was it enough to destroy a nation…?
His foot kicked against a glass jar. From within, two bodiless eyes stared back at him. He picked it up, and grinned darkly, "For you, I'll do anything…"
"M'Lord…?"
He turned to his gaunt Magick to his right, the muscle-bound General to his left. One would resurrect his army, another would command it. And the Shape-shifter…? Oh, he'll find some other use for it later…
"Prepare yourself, my henchmen – come tomorrow, we go to WAR…!!"
...oOo...
His Majesty's steed cut through the dark like a specter, the trees rudely awakened from slumber. They murmured their disapproval to the wind, leaves rustling like a shudder of distaste. Nonetheless, the rider's anxiety touched the Elements themselves, and they lent their aid – roots and branches seemingly shrank away from his path, stones and shrubbery cleared by forest creatures, great and small…
A bandit scout sounded his arrival, a horn blown to signal for the gates to allow passage. Those yet not slumbering clambered out of their beds, eager to see if their King's quest had met with success…
There was a bundle in His Majesty's arms – did they dare hope…?
"Healers!!" the young Sovereign called out urgently, dismounting from his saddle, his wheezing horse led away to the makeshift stables. "Please, do not tarry…!! Wake your healers… and my Sorceress…!!"
They were redundant orders as the violet-clad Mage stumbled through the crowd, her young charge dragged right along with her, "My Liege, I have great news to tell yo—"
"There is no time, Faithful One…!!" he panted, rushing towards the tent serving as the bandits' infirmary, "Come quickly – I require your skilled hands…"
"Her Majesty…?!" she gasped, eyes wide.
To her confusion, the cloak fell away from the form it covered – and revealed a man.
A horrendously scarred, tortured shell of a man…
"Who—"
If her heart had not stopped before this, it did now.
"I know not how, I know not why, but I do know this…" her Leader's voice shook her from her distress, "This man is my cousin, the First Heir to the Kingdom – and I want you to do everything in your power to bring him back to me…"
...oOo...
No sooner had the apothecaries begun to work upon the mangled being subjected to innumerous tortures, another victim of Saurian abuse was brought in through the coarse flaps.
"Make way – we bring Her Majesty the Queen…!!"
The weary Ruler resting beside the doorway leapt to his feet, "Ambrosia…!!"
A golden head snapped to attention as the second figure was lowered onto a bed, swiftly darting away from one pallet to the other. "Away, away – let me tend to Her Majesty's wounds…"
The maroon cloth was torn away as gently as able, given the circumstances.
Her jaw dropped.
Cuts and abrasions marred once-porcelain skin, bruises discoloring it a dull, unnatural hue. The mere fact that they could see every inch of Her Majesty brought tears to her eyes, whatever fragments of silk and lace barely covering her form, tattered ribbons stained red…
But it was when they turned her onto her side to view her back did her husband finally succumb to his shock, falling away from reality.
Bloody and raw, yet the image was clear all the same.
The silhouette of a Dragon and a rune – the mark of the last surviving Saurian Overlord…
...oOo...
Dull wine-colored eyes squinted against the brightness snatching him away from the realms of deepest slumber, a snarl wretched from his throat. He brought a hand up to screen the harshness of the rays assaulting his sight until he had adjusted to it…
"Good morning, My Liege…" a hushed voice greeted him from the floor.
He frowned. He did not recognize this voice, and it unnerved him to no end. Where was his Royal Knight, his loyal friend? Better yet, where was his Beloved, his sweet Ambro—
"AMBROSIA!!" sleep was stolen from his mind as he sat upright in his bed, handwoven quilts cast aside. Rushing to the portals of his tent, it took him a moment to realize he was pulled back by something attached to his wrist. "What in Puckworl—"
"Her Majesty rests in the tent on the other side of camp," the only other entity sharing his chambers informed him, prostrating himself before the distraught Monarch. "Your esteemed Spellmistress left me here to answer any questions you may have…"
Whirling to face the kneeling young man, the impatient elder spat, "Fine… Who are you, peasant? Are you not the one who mortally injured me upon my last arrival?! Why are you here now, bound to me, when you should be bound to my Mage? Why are you here now, instead of she, left to answer my questions?!"
Came the muffled reply, words spoken carefully, tone unsure and withdrawn, "Answered in reversed order: I was ordered to stay, because Her Excellence begs absence to tend to Her Majesty in her current state of ill-health… My chain was transferred from her wrist to your own to keep you here, until she is done…
"And yes, I am the one who shot you with my arrows almost a week ago. For that, I humbly approach you now for your grace… As for the first question…" the cowering boy's head lifted from the ground just a tad, "I… truly do not know how to answer… but… Her Excellence is convinced that I…" a deep breath, "… am your brother…"
The last word echoed loudly within the silence of his tent. The white-feathered one stared, stunned beyond reaction.
"My brother is dead…" he hissed through gritted teeth, the turmoil in his mind held in check.
"Or so the Kingdom thinks… but Her Excellence is convinced otherwise…"
"What enchantment have you cast to rob my Sorceress of her senses?!?!"
"None…" was the truthful answer, the face now lifting, "She needed no more evidence… but this…"
The younger one's fingers brushed away the bangs from his eyes, simultaneously baring his beak. The elder finally saw what his Magick wished him to see—
"A hoax…!! You had no birthmark on your beak before we left…!!" the Crowned One accused, voice shaking with fury, "How dare you attempt to deceive your King—"
"The boy is innocent, Master…" a new voice boomed from the entryway.
A giant man obscured all light entering the makeshift door, in the plain robes of a wandering monk. He bowed respectfully to the Royal blood, "Your servant is here to serve you, Master…"
"And who are you…?!"
"I have been of little significance to you… until now…" the newcomer strode into the room to stand behind the kneeling youth having his face turned away, "I am the one who can tell you everything you need to know about this boy… and of yourself…"
Another migraine washed over the already exhausted Ruler as he sank heavily into a chair, "Explain…"
"According to rumor, the Kingdom lost its First Heir, and you a brother, all in one night, correct…?" the rumbling voice began, kneeling between the mentally drained young adult and silent teen. "The First Heir was said to have been captured by the Wild Beasts… but the Littler One…?
"That same time, our village found a fledgling by the Brambles. A lost child belonging to the wandering gypsies, perhaps…? He woke, and to our horror, the poor thing knew nothing of himself, not even his name…
"They brought him to me, believing I could ward off the Spirits of Forgetfulness to save him. I sought counsel from the stars, and received guidance on how to act…
"I was not aware of his identity, least of all suspecting he was one of the princelings of the Royal Household; all I knew was that he was destined for great things… but until then, I would have to hide the one thing separating him from all others—"
"The dark patch on his beak," the Sovereign finished.
The cleric agreed, nodding. He continued, "When they brought you here, I knew the time had come… I came away from my home deeper in the forest to lend you my aid as one of the healers. And now you are here, and now you know…" the towering figure bowed, "Thus, my duty here is done…"
Silence reigned in the small enclosed space as the priest, bowed rose and left, the sturdy curtain flapping in the wind. The white-feathered one stared.
"Then… it is true…?" he slid from his seat, slowly, onto his knees and crawled to the one kneeling before him. A trembling hand reached out to stroke a lock of shining blond, "You are really… my brother…?"
To his surprise, the other flinched away from his touch, "Don't…"
The elder of the pair frowned, "I… don't understand…"
"Whatever he said may have been true… Stars, the story itself is believable… Yes, I may be a princeling… Yes, I may be your brother…" he turned, and the elder one was struck speechless by the anger reflected in eye of cornflower blue, "I don't want any of it…"
"B-but…!!"
"But NOTHING!!" the bandit spat, wiping at his eyes as angry tears began to fall, "For the longest time, I never belonged anywhere. I didn't know where I came from, and I didn't know where I was going. I had no name, no family, no NOTHING!! Do you know how many times I felt like dying as a child? Do you? Do you?!
"Until I was given a home, adopted into a family willing to shelter me, love me, treating me as their own… You would not believe how happy I felt – I kissed every d..mn imaginable thing in my new room, right down to my new floormats…!! I grew up here, grew up to be a bandit… just like my father and my uncles and everyone else… I'm happy here! HAPPY!! It's because I feel I belong… Here, with my family… Here, with my people…
"Then you come along and ruin everything!! First, you scare the living h..ll outta me because I almost KILL you, then you scare the living h..ll outta me by tying me to your Mage—who tried to kill ME, by the way, right before she squealed this whole fantastic tale about little ol' me being a high-born noble… And not just any high-born noble – a ROYAL HOUSE HIGH-BORN NOBLE TO BOOT!!"
"And you aren't glad to know this?" the taller one countered, "To know the truth regarding your birth? Your blood?!"
"H..ll NO!!" seethed the little one, snapping his jaws dangerously, "I KNOW your kind and your life. And I don't want anything to DO with it!! And if you dare force me into reconciliation with my blood, I'll have you know I have NO INTENTIONS of coming willingly…
"I don't want to be a princeling. I don't want to be your brother… I don't WANT a brother…! I don't NEED a brother…!!"
Words said, the fledgling scrambled to his feet, determined to leave. He managed to get within two feet of the entrance when he was pulled back by a chain.
"Well, D..MN it all again…!!"
Silence.
Then quietly, "You don't want a brother…?"
"No."
"You don't need a brother…?"
"No."
"So be it…"
The restraining bracelet around his wrist faded away from existence, the bangle on the other end falling quietly to the floor.
"By order of the Most High, your charges have been lifted. As your Sovereign King, I pardon you of all offenses made to my person and those who serve me…"
A dagger was placed before the lad, "Now go and be blessed…"
The youth frowned at the presented gift, "What's the meaning of this…?"
Tears masking the wine-mahogany eyes belonging to the Blueblood true, he stared at his long-lost brother a moment longer, before closing his eyes and turning to leave. "It means whatever you wish it to be… If this is what you want, then I have no further say in the matter otherwise. Either way, you win…
"Goodbye… my brother…"
A shift of gravel, a flurry of feathers, and he was gone…
...oOo...
"It cannot be undone…" he repeated, his white hand held against the ashen bandages.
She bowed her head in shame, "No, Your Majesty…"
"The Origins Spell—"
"—is powerless against wounds already closed…" his Servant explained, anticipating his question. "There were no lesions to be healed save for those other than her back… There was no magic involved… The Origins Spell was redundant in this case…
"And unlike a Puckworlder, Her Majesty has no underlying nor overlying feathers to hide her scars… She will… bear them for… a-an eternity…"
The Monarch cursed under his breath, a fist slamming against his knee, "An eternity…??! My own woman cursed to bear the mark of another man on her body for an eternity…?!?!"
The Sorceress cowered at his tone, "I-I… P-please, f-forgive me, there is n-nothing to be done…"
The pale lady stirred, weak eyes blinking open. Cracked lips parted, a confused voice of a child, "Where…?"
"Ambrosia…!!"
The first she laid eyes on was the Kingdom's Magick. A little higher, and she glimpsed the visage of her husban—
"… no…" she whimpered, shrinking away from his gaze, immobility rendering her efforts unsuccessful. Crystalline tears spilled from her eyes, "… please… do not… look at—"
His heart broke. A hand reached out to touch her, but he did not dare. She would not bear his touch… She could not even bear his gaze… All he had ever done for her was gone… The work of the Devil, robbing him of this last hope of all hopes…
His hand clenched into a fist just above her cheek, quaking with despair. Turning away from him, his beloved pleaded, "… p-please… just… leave m-me…"
He gave a strangled cry, one born of a man having lost everything.
Everything…
Again…
"Sire…?" the golden-haired Spellmistress called as he whirled away from the bed and fled, "Sire…!!"
Alone at last, the broken child wept louder…
...oOo...
"Why…?" he questioned, tears watering the grass by the tree he leaned heavily against, shoulder scraping cracking wood, "Why this…? Why now…?
"10 years ago, I lost everything I had – everything… 10 years later, Fate lets me hold on to them for a while, only to snatched them once more out of my hands…
"In one tent, my wife canna bear my presence near her, humiliated for life; in another, my cousin is dying – his body torn, his mind shattered, his soul ripped; across the clearing, my brother has disowned me, choosing instead a life of denial… Far and away, my Kingdom is in danger, the Saurians preparing an onslaught…
"Who will aid me…? Who will guide me…? Where is my mentor, my protector, my frien—"
He realized something amiss. Something he had not noticed before in his frenzied state. Someone close to him he had forgotten until now, a time he needed him most…
"Where is my Personal Guard…?"
Where indeed…?
...oOo...
A humble shelter by a stream, the waters whispering sweet promises to those who praised its comforting presence…
A washer woman scrubbed harder at the dyed cloths, wringing out pink-colored liquid into her basin. She groused silently to herself, slapping the fine material against the flat stones.
"Horrible creatures… bothersome things… unwanted burdens…" her monotonal mantra echoed through the woods.
But when she entered her warm abode, she could do naught by sigh. Two beds occupied, both cradling ones unmoving, souls disturbed, "DuCaine watch us… bless their souls…"
And beside the arched doorway, two swords bearing the Royal Seal lay quietly, waiting to join the song of War, far far away…
...oOo...
Aoi Akiko rambles:
My mind is slipping into the abyss Please, girl, save me from myself...
O-kay...
Honestly, this has been the most difficult chapter to write thus far... because Wildwing is an emotional nightmare to write...!! And with everything happening at once, he's heading towards disaster...
Or is he...?
grin
Ah, speaking about grinning, Grin makes his appearance...!! Um... actually, he's already made his appearance in the last chappie as the healer who said, "I know who you are, fair child… … For King and Country, elthmareth…" I did not make a note as to not spoil this part... Still, all in all, he... doesn't play a very big part in this story, but... um... I really can't think of a part for him to play...
For those who want to kill me for... killing off Duke and Mallory... cowers Don't hurt me, please...!! I don't want to spoil it, but will you please wait for the next chappie at least... I'll do good on the next on, I promise...!!
What'll happen next...? Gimme a week, and I'll figure that out...
Side notes:
[1] I do not like the formatting for this, due to taking away the little 'asterisks'. Thus, I've had to change my 'asterisks'-yelling to underlined-yelling... Okay with everyone...?
[2] k2 thinks my characters are beginning to become very OOC... please tell me what you think... If I'm too out of line, I'll rewrite this...
[3] Dragaunus saying, "I do hope you'll stay... for dinner..." taken from original MD:TAS, ep 26, 'The Last Face-off'