A/N: …do any of you know of the hell I went through, typing all this on iPod while the draft constantly got deleted. GOOD THING I COPIED IT INTO MY COPY N PASTE HAHAHAHAHAHA okay. Yeah, so I ship marxolor pretty hard. And I think this story might have smut in the future. So if you read it, you have brought it upon yourselves, my friends uvu please review c:

Disclaimer: If I owned Kirby, traumatizing events would occur much more frequently c:

. . . . . .

Magolor's hooded ears perked up. "Landia? Master Crown?" A spark of excitement flickered in his amber colored irises.

He sucked in a shaky breath of unconcealed desire for the Master Crown. "Lor, we must fight Landia for that crown. We must." He could feel the blazing inferno of nervousness churn his stomach and the sheer fright embedded in his chest. Landia, the four-headed dragon, had the Master Crown bestowed upon.

Maybe it had chosen the beast for a reason. Why wouldn't it? For starters, the creature was protective of her own food — why wouldn't she harm anyone over the Master Crown?

It's just not fair, Magolor had sighed. Old stories and myths told enough of the dangers of going up against monsters like Landia. There were always two variations though, if Magolor remembered correctly. The hero would die lethally and his body would be buried in honor of the man's bravery. Or he would courageously behead the beast that he went up against, bring his prize back to the haughty king, and be remembered always.

But fairytales were exceedingly different than real life. Harsh cold reality.

He knew that from experience.

The Lor Starcutter glided over to the powerful aura it had felt, leading to Landia. Beyond, laid the dragon in her peaceful slumber. And atop her main head, powerful and illuminating some kind of energy, beheld the irradiated form of the Master Crown. Was it possible that it caused Magolor to lust for it? He was convinced in his mind that this ancient item was beneficial to the near future. Though, a cloud shrouded over his thoughts and the only thing he was able to think of at that moment happened to be the Master Crown.

"I am so stupid..." he whispered. Because, honestly, taking up a dragon for a petty object was not particularly labeled as the smartest thing in the universe.

Now within great shooting range, Magolor pointed his index finger at Landia and said, "fire."

From the ship's front, small canons appeared and the Lor Starcutter began propelling lasers aimed for Landia. The volley hit the four-headed dragon and Landia awoke with a vicious cry.

Flapping her large wings, Landia screeched as she sent a wave of simmering fire balls at the Lor Starcutter. The gargantuan ship avoided it. Magolor had to admit that facing Landia was… exhilarating, to say the least.

Once again, the four-headed dragon cried loudly, portraying a warning to the Halcandran. Magolor ignored it; no, instead he noted carefully how Landia and the Master Crown calculated each others' thoughts mathematically in a symmetrical fashion. If the crown harbored any actual thoughts, that is. He found the pair's cognition to be incredible.

With a blinding ball of fire heading straight towards him and the Lor, Magolor gasped disdainfully for how could he be so distracted!? The plasmatic ball of fire torched the ship's hull and Magolor fell to the Lor's tiles as the ship lurched painfully to the side.

W-we got hit, Magolor thought. "Lor, I know it hurts, but take us somewhere! Take us somewhere, anywhere, so we won't land back on the grounds of this horrid planet, and make it quick before we might actually die from crashing! Please."

Since it would be nearly impossible to go up, the Lor Starcutter sent a beam of light outwards, creating a star-shaped wormhole. The ship hurriedly headed for the dimensional portal, and as she passed through it, it immediately closed up. As they dashed past, colors in swirls glowed in all places outside the Lor. Magolor had to squint as the diverse colors danced around unnervingly. It was breathtaking but it also felt odd, like all matter was breaking up into tiny particles and the blood within the teen chilled.

As soon as they were in, they were out and the Lor Starcutter demonstrated her ability to hold together through the heavy pull of gravity. When trees and other vegetation peeked from the large window's view, Magolor's ears lowered and the all too familiar feel of fright came over him.

They were going to crash. Death probably wouldn't come due to this planet's lack of lava but survival would cost the price of injuries or broken bones. Perhaps he would bleed internally. How fun.

Oh, this was going to be painful.

~oOo~

The world comes back to me in a sudden wave of dizziness, and I feel the need to vomit. Everything hurts, I feel nauseous. My fingers are coated and sticky — with blood? My blood…?

Water is being spiraled onto my face and I whimper a small protest, tagged along with a shiver.

"He's not dead." I hear a man speaking and an excited squeak sounds next to him;

"I told you, Meta!"

I keep my eyes closed. Opening them is an energy consuming process in which I do not wish to indulge in. Then I feel my hood being pulled down and hear one of the people gulp. The other is probably the one touching one of my ears.

"Well, isn't this odd…"

"…Do you speak English?" The kindler sounding of the two asks.

I'm tired, and in pain — and I'm not sure why. I don't want to answer any questions right now. What if I just want sleep to consume my body? Doesn't everyone get that feel? Isn't it a universal, relatable feeling? Surely, they must know how I feel by my probably unruly appearance.

Nevertheless, I still make an effort by producing a tiny hum.

It is directed towards the kind voice and that kind voice only.

"I think that's a 'yes'!" I can just picture the smile tugging on his lips.

"Don't jump to conclusions, Kirby." There's a monotonous hint in his voice registering in my head. He sounds about done. Just one more problem and he'll lose his top. I decide to open my eyes now.

My lashes slowly, carefully, flutter open then I shut them tightly, grinding my teeth together. I don't know if these people saw me or not but I don't care! Something raw and dry fell on my eye and it's painful.

I hear the sound of a growl and wonder now if the people might have brought an animal on board.

There's slight shuffling of the feet until the man with the deeper voice mumbles to who I presume to be Kirby, "fix him."

This time another voice says, "okay."

They had another person. I suddenly feel self-conscious. For all I know, the whole planet could be on board!

I hear the man walking away and I'm left with only Kirby to keep me comfort. It is probably him who's sitting me up, petting and lathing my head with water and maybe soap. I sigh and he whispers to me reassuringly. That things are going to be okay, that I'm okay. Of course I'm okay. When I've wanted to die, everything appeared to be okay, as the other Halcandrans had put it. They wouldn't understand and despite Kirby only trying to comfort and relieve me of my external pain, he probably wouldn't understand either. His voice is too innocent for him to feel pain. I wouldn't dare wish for him to get hurt

Another hand clamps down on my shoulder and asks, "would you like water?" …That isn't Kirby but I still nod mutely. Whoever it is, is trying to help too.

There's a glass to my lips and I gulp cautiously before opening my mouth slightly. The cool, familiar fluid feels like heaven and my slightly shaking hands come up to hold the glass. The other person let go, probably grinning triumphantly to himself, and in less than a minute I finish all the water in the cup.

"Well whaddya know." I try opening my eye that doesn't sting and my vision gradually but surely focuses. The person holding another cup of water is light-skinned and has tawny hair tied under a navy blue bandanna. It doesn't look bad on him. I surge forward to grasp the water.

Some spilled on my clothes; and him and possibly Kirby, gasps. But I don't care. Not one bit. Nope. Nada. When you probably lost half the amount of blood in your body, you're going to feel really thirsty and desperate for anything to drink, I guess.

"How do you feel, err…" The slender bandanna dude looks conflicted and he's muttering to himself what he should call me by. "I'm sorry," he says, "but I don't know your name?"

I try to glare at him, which probably appears as a pained look, which is actually pretty accurate to how I'm currently feeling. I sigh and clear my throat.

"My name is… Magolor…" I sound sure despite the rasp in my voice but my head starts spinning. Surely the step by step process can pause a little? Just for a bit.

I bite down on my lip hard and suck in a breath. Kirby — I think it was him — had twirled a bit of my hair with a finger and his fingernails scratched part of my ear protruding from the top of my head and oh it felt so good.

I think he happened to hear my sudden gasp for he squeaks, "sorry Magolor!" Definitely Kirby. He leans forward and stares at me with this look. It is apologetic, of course, but what also catches my attention is not the deep patches of the starry blue cerulean but the twinkle and shine of his eyes. He practically radiates childhood innocence!

My head bows. I can't look him in the eye when he's somehow sad, thinking he hurt me.

To release some of the tension I say, "it didn't hurt, Kirby, I promise." I am being honest. He just surprised me is all.

Kirby hums then nods slowly. It's like he's reassuring himself of something unspoken and secretive, something only he would understand and decipher himself. He looks at me and smiles in… is that gratitude? This is so weird.

But now that he's standing right in front of me, I trace every inch of Kirby and keep it in memory. Rosy pink colored hair, the ruby red color of his sweater with some kind of symbol on it, same colored combat-boots, green knee socks, and a choker with a golden star on it. I produce a mass coughing fit.

"Are you okay!" The way he says it is less of a question and more of a hurried, worried statement.

I choke out, "is that real!?"

Confusion surfaces over his features until something clicks and he says in a bored tone, "yes, my real hair is pink."

I smile a bit. "No, I mean your choker with a star, is that real? I mean, are you, uhh… actually wearing one?"

Kirby's former poker face manifests into a familiar look of bewilderment. He turns around to laugh. That's probably one way of not throwing one's respect out the window. "Sorry, sorry; no this isn't a choker, Magolor. It's just a regular necklace that's a one-size-fits-all, that's a teensy bit tight — causing it to wrap around my neck perfectly, with a star on it!"

I fake a smile and nod. "Okay, I get it now. Thank you."

The teenager with the blue bandanna claps his hands and I wince. "All righty, can you stand Mister Magolor?"

I keep the fact that I dislike him and the other voice from earlier but find Kirby endearing, to myself. Though, can I stand? I hold out my hand, hoping for support. Bandanna guy comes to the rescue and I scowl but it fades as soon as it forms. "Thank you," I mutter.

The teen replies with an all too enthusiastic: "You're welcome!" Yep. I like Kirby better. Maybe Kirbster has a way for handling foreigners or something.

Speak of the Kirby and he shall appear, Kirby loops an arm over my shoulders and somewhat tries to support my weight. "You think you can walk?"

I nod, unsure and slowly.

He takes a step forward and I warily follow his foot. Another step forward. Oh this is easy, surely I can walk! My shaky legs are eager to go out towards the outside, the trees, the small springs, the flowers and grass.

But then all that's happening now is just a confusing blur for me.

"Wait!" I nearly scream.

Kirby looks to me with those eyes of his. That's my cue, I think. "I… What even happened? Why am I all injured like this and what happened to my beloved Lor? What is all this!?"

I have to breathe through my teeth to calm myself down. Everything is happening too suddenly too fast and a stop light needs to be put in place.

Kirby flinches violently and a look of horror plagues over his eyes. "Calm down, Magolor! I-I can explain!"

Breathing is the key. I grunt, pulling up my hood over head again. My torso hadn't been fixed yet and bending my arms hurt. I wonder if I'm actually bleeding somewhere. Everything hurts.

Apparently, I look placid enough for Kirby to continue. I feel horrible. Did I scare poor Kirby!? "Okay, so, um, we saw you — or rather your ship — crash, so y'know, we had to invest — investigate. And, ha… w-we found you all injured and bloody. We had to help you. Even if you are an alien. E-even if you're, trying to take over…"

Kirby starts trembling and his eyes become glossy. He tries to stare me straight in the eye. I can't look at him.

"…You understand Magolor? How even when there's fear threatening to give up all your lunch but you still want to help?" I can't look at him.

What he said right now is not relatable towards me. I do not help people at all. Especially when I'm afraid. But the Lor Starcutter is different. She's greater than the average population of people and I was not afraid of her when I stole her.

I nod nevertheless.

A man clad in blue and silver armor and a mask tied around to cover his face puts an arm around Kirby in a fatherly manner, and I'm suddenly jealous. I had always wished for my own dad to protect me. But he's dead to me. Kirby hugs the stiffened man, buries his face in his chest, and not too long after, we all hear sobbing. I ask myself the same question over and over again. Did I do this!? There's a cloud of guilt pouring and showering onto me.

A booming voice says, "take him to interrogation!" and I shiver involuntarily. Interrogation? Don't I seem innocent enough! I turn to the owner of the voice and gasp in surprise. Forget his features, he looks like royalty! The big maroon cloak hugging his body and — just the way he stands is superior compared to everyone else. He must be a king, no doubt about it.

That guy with the bandanna gently lays his palm on my back and his other hand is pointing outwards as he tells me to walk forward. "I don't know anything!" I stutter. What is happening? The queasy feeling in my stomach is returning and I resist the strong urge to just sway to the side and lay there on the ground. If I answer wrongly will they just kill me!? Is this this planet's way of dealing with foreigners? What happens if I answer correctly; will I be free to live here?

I note that the king, the armored man, and Kirby — who appears to have regained his default mental state — are behind me and bandanna guy.

Kirby cheerily skips next to me and grasps my hand in the most gentle way possible. I'm glad that he doesn't just manhandle people. I look at him and he stares back at me. The glittering stars in his sapphire eyes light up some more when he smiles, I notice. My cheeks burn and I uneasily look down at my feet and tug on my hood a bit lower, feeling more self-conscious.

"It's okay, Magolor! I'll make sure that they won't kill you! You seem like a good guy."

That's not very… reassuring.

The rest of the walk went through a pregnant silence but by the time we get to the inside of the castle, I gasp. The outside view is magnificent enough as it is! But the inside… Servants looking like bandanna guy are all over the place, making sure everything is nice and spiffy — and it indeed looks dignified and very royal in every way. I get the reminder of how small I am when standing next to the king.

One servant, a young woman holding a red and white striped parasol and who's face appears nearly identical to bandanna guy's, skips to us but hands the king a glass filled with something. Whatever it is, it must be good enough for him to smile and thank her. She smiles back. "Of course, King Dedede."

King Dedede. What odd names this planet has…

Kirby tugs on my arm and I grin tiredly at him.

"Bandanna Dee, Kirby, would you mind taking our visitor to guest room two-two-four? I need to discuss something with Meta Knight," King Dedede says. Does he even know my name? Kirby yawns possibly out of boredom and bandanna dude ushers me out of the room. The only words my ears pick up are "alien", "bad for Kirby", and… "prison". Are they going to put me in prison? Without even interrogating!?

Once again, the feeling of dread forms a lead ball in my stomach. These people are friendly, right?

Bandanna Dee, I think that's his name, unlocks and opens the big doors to the guest room. I should be awed that even the guest room looks fantastic but I'm busy moping around in my own thoughts. I feel lost and everything feels like shit. Maybe I shouldn't have left Halcandra in favor of my own problematic family and political crises.

This planet happens to be somewhat perfect in its own ways, and I might love it even more if I weren't in pain and the source of trouble all of a sudden. While walking, the breeze felt beautiful and the view of the grasslands were enchanting. The citizens are lovely and unique and they all carry an implanted smile on their faces. So much that it seems almost fake — but I can tell illusion from reality and the people are remarkably content with their current lives.

"Magolor?" Kirby says and I jump a bit.

"Um, yes?"

He hums quietly to himself and I figure that it happens to be a habit of his. "Would you like to lie down or sit down next to me?" His politeness is almost too delightful but I deny his request nevertheless. Though, that mattress does look comfy.

"If I am going to be punished, I wish for it to be rational and to happen soon."

Bandanna Dee retorts, "I'm sure your punishment won't even be that bad, am I right Kirby?"

Kirby sighs and gingerly says, "yes." If I didn't know any better, I'd say he sounds discordant, very conflicted.

The door knob turns and we all turn to see who's coming in; Kirby getting up from his position on the mattress saunters happily over to Meta Knight. That bright smile feels odd compared to Meta Knight's foreboding exterior. The knight beckons me to follow him and the three of us without King Dedede or Bandanna Dee proceed onwards below castle grounds.

We follow Meta Knight without a single word uttered and soon we're veering upwards again until I find myself face to face with a large citadel. I breathlessly only pronounce, "woah…"

I would find its architecture inspiring and worthy of a round of applause if I didn't know that it was a prison. No, it is intimidating and staring at it is making me want to vomit.

Meta Knight pulls on my sleeve and I start hyperventilating. My heart's racing and I fear that it will fall out. "No no no no, I can't go in there!" A surge of panic takes over and a chasm forms in my stomach. I'm so scared, I feel like fainting. This is the worst!

My mind refuses to step in but my legs betray me by walking into the prison.

I get sat on a chair but it doesn't help much. Kirby is also trying to soothe me I think, but I can't hear anything he's saying over me trying to calm myself down with deep intakes of oxygen.

I breathe shakily as Meta Knight sternly avows, "Magolor, we will check up on you periodically. Kirby is leaving and I will take you to change your clothes, get you set up with the health physician, and then guide you to your cell. You will be sharing the cell with someone else who I believe you can manage to handle."

He stretches out his hand and I reach for it very reluctantly. Honestly, the more time I'm spending here, the more vexed I'm becoming.

I hear Kirby humming again and I wonder exactly what tune comes to mind. The notes linger in the air for a few seconds before he asks anxiously, "who… who will be Magolor's cell mate, Meta Knight?"

Kirby goes back to humming and we all stand in our positions for a while. For a moment, I think Meta Knight has forgotten the pinkette's question until he sighs almost apathetically. "Marx. It will be Marx, Kirby."

I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion and look towards Kirby for any hope of finding information. His head is bowed thus resulting in his bangs covering half his face. No sign of support here at all.

Kirby clenches and unclenches his fists, trying to recompose himself. Several seconds later, he springs his head up and smiles reassuringly. But I can tell that this time, it's fake. He himself isn't even half relaxed or optimistic at all. There are tears glossing his eyes. What a bad liar.

My eyelids slowly close and I take another breath. This Marx guy can't be that bad.

Meta Knight guides and I follow. We end up in a room with white walls that somewhat remind me of the Lor Starcutter and a pang of guilt rises up in my chest. Oh, my poor Lor!

"I will be turned around." Meta Knight crosses his arms and turns around, tossing me a bundle of tangerine-orange clothes. How will I look in this? It was rare to see Halcandrans wear orange. In fact, only those people much poorer than peasants who couldn't afford clothes wore orange fabric. There's not much noticeable orange.

I dejectedly unbuckle the belt tying my scarf-cape and cautiously run covered fingers along my neck. It still hurts.

I spend a couple more minutes removing the other remnants of my clothing and slip into the prison's pants and long sleeve. The shirt is kind of big so I tuck it in my pants. I still feel naked without everything else. My hood…

Unconsciously, I glide my fingers through my fur and I feel even more open than ever. "…I'm done."

Meta Knight turns to face me then walks forward to gather my clothes and slings it over his shoulders. I sigh, defeated.

Ascending the hallway, Meta Knight and I make it to the health clinic and a petite girl who can't be older than Kirby places a hand on my forehead, and cleans and tries to fix up any more bruises and lacerations, mumbling almost demeaning, "you poor guy!"

Even with the worried glances she gives me, I can't help but notice how happy with life she seems behind all the compassion.

And now here I am wondering if even the prisoners will appear content though they're behind bars. Will I be too?

She stares at me and asks, "what is your name?" The way she said it wasn't rude or irritated at all but her voice sounds foreign to this planet.

"It's Magolor," I reply.

She smiles warmly. I really happen to like her attitude. "Well Magolor, I'm the nurse! Nurse Ribbon. Well, yeah, I am kinda young to look like a nurse but I know how to care for stab wounds and all. Plus, this giant coat looks cute on me!"

Ribbon. Ribbon seems amiable enough to make hundreds of friends. Honestly, I'd be surprised if she didn't have more.

"You aren't from Dreamland — or Popstar for that matter — are you? In fact, your skin color is too dark for you to be from this galaxy. I mean, orangy-yellow-y eyes are actually pretty common on the planet Floria but yours are golden amber! And dark skin is found in people from Hotbeat but I honestly think that that place is inhabitable."

"Um, I'm from Halcandra and that's in another dimension…?" I produce a small laugh and wonder exactly if she even believes me. But she indeed seems to and smiles fondly, responding by saying that she comes from a planet far away called Ripplestar.

Ribbon is presumably my second friend here on Popstar and I'm glad I made two companions, even if I won't see them often.

She bids me and Meta Knight a wonderful rest of the day and after we leave the room, my body droops. I trudge onwards even though everything still dully aches and my mind is screaming at me; REST!

Meta Knight looks the same from when I first saw him at the beginning of the afternoon. It isn't like I can scour for any difference with that mask of his in the way. Does he even carry human emotions?

"Are we there yet?" I whine, trying to get his attention. I'm not intending to provoke him or anything but he needs to lighten up and find some fun in life besides face-fucking his mask all day long. And if the mask isn't his source of fun, I wonder how many times he might have yelled at Kirby in the past for the teen wanting to enjoy a day with him.

But no. No angry hiss, no disappointed sigh of disapproval, nothing; no, just a placid, "not yet."

I sulk and heave another breath of frustration — or maybe it's sorrow. After today's course of events, I can't exactly tell the difference anymore. I can't believe I haven't dropped to the ground, passed out yet.

We get to the cells and Meta Knight informs that I'm going into Block A. I'm not… entirely sure what that means because at Halcandra we had no royalty or prisons; just a tyrannical government and lethal penalties. Hopefully, this Block A won't be so bad. I'm going to mirror the citizens' attitudes during my mentally detrimental punishment. Positive with a pinch of Kirby's enthusiasm.

Foreign letters come into view and I suddenly wish to know how to read the language of Dreamland. Its appearance tends to hold a lovely bouquet of ancient history. But, for all I know, the writing system may be less than a decade old.

Meta Knight unlocks the doors using keys that I never I even noticed him carrying, and I brace myself for myriads of loud noises. But as I step through the border between my old life and now, there are only light voices; barely whispers that my ears can't even pick up much coherent words. Everything sounds nearly muffled.

As if to answer my unspoken question, Meta Knight calmly says to me, "it is nighttime as of right now."

I'm not surprised that it's already night.

He walks me down the hall and I can feel peering eyes looking me over. Oh stars, I suddenly feel sick again.

A single red eye hungrily hunts me down as I, the prey, walk along thinking that the people here won't be scary at all. Nope! Think positive, Magolor; they all want to be your friend. No matter what your instincts scream at you, just keep thinking that, Magolor. Positive. You're going to get out of prison soon, find the Lor, and get off this planet.

The more I follow Meta Knight, the more audible some singing gets. It sounds super creepy and the air around me becomes almost too suffocating to the point where it's unbearable. Maybe it's just the fear shrouding my brain because my knightly chaperone appears to be fine.

"Flying so free, so great in the sky; Maybe we can go see it, both you and I. We can make a wish, falling and falling we act so very skittish, I just want to see it with you. So valiantly, oh so bravely fighting; Fighting and screaming just for what you want. Maybe it's selfish, yes very brash, but I am not daunted for then they turn to ash."

Those lyrics are more than just astonishing. Intimidating? Yes. Impressive? Maybe just a lot. Singing never really was a hobby of mine so of course I'm too easily impressed by it.

Meta Knight flashes a gloved pointer finger at me and I pause, questioning why exactly must I stop when he's the one imprisoning me here.

"You are supposed to be asleep, Marx." The authority mustn't have gone unnoticed by this Marx character. "Go to bed."

I hear a playful sigh and a laugh quickly following. "I overheard from a friend that someone's rooming with me. How can I not be excited!" Marx squees happily before completely dropping his act. My first thought of him: bitingly sarcastic. "Anyway, me and newbie will be best buddies, Mety—"

"How did you find out about it!?" Meta Knight chucks his keys to the floor — most likely so Marx won't try to snatch it. He angrily grabs the guy by the collar and another fit of anxiety fills me so I tear off Meta Knight's grasp on Marx and lay his hand on the side gently.

I glare at the knight but Marx is just heard announcing a wee bit obnoxiously, "hey hey heeyyy newbiieee! We're gonna have so much fun together!"

Cautiously, I turn and stare him right in the eye. Something unlike the other Dreamlanders shine in his multi-colored eyes. Not kindness, not joy but… something akin to that. And it scares me.

I turn back to Meta Knight who's picking up the dropped keys from the ground. I let out a breath I didn't know that I was keeping in as the midnight blue haired man faces me. He blinks then sighs. I thought that he was mysteriously disappointed in me until I look back at Marx who's proudly brandishing a monochrome bracelet, his laughter ascending.

"Hahaha, I got it off!"

"Marx just put it back on…" I softly berate.

One red iris and the other one blue, Marx glares daggers at me, at me, and I find myself crossing territory meant to be forsaken. I can already taste the impending physical assault coming my way.

Apparently, my newfound dislike for him was not reciprocal and he grins, putting the damn bracelet back on.

"All right, newbie. You got it."

I honestly can't tell whether he's initiating something or actually being truthful.

Meta Knight tells the boy to go to bed right now and Marx obeys; but not without blowing a kiss towards us, of course. I slink to the side so that the imaginary flying kiss won't touch me. Meta Knight stays in the same spot.

I can only imagine the horrible migraine he must be experiencing. He closes his eyes then rubs his temple and heaves a deep (probably annoyed) sigh. "Magolor," he says, "I know you won't give me trouble. Get in please." Meta Knight rapidly pushes buttons simultaneously on a keypad and the cell door creaks open. I meekly pop my head in before stepping into the cell and automatically climbing into what I notice is the empty lower bunk. Marx must be on the top.

He closes the cell's bars and I have to strain my ears to hear Meta Knight whisper a "be careful." The door to Block A shuts and locks and I respond by tiredly closing my eyes.

Marx has other ideas.

He pounces from the top bunk and lands perfectly on the floor in front of me, the savage. I keep my eyes closed. If he thinks that I'm asleep, maybe he won't bother me.

But no. My hopes are for naught as he wantonly pokes my cheek with the support of a slender finger. I growl inhumanly. "What?" I snap. "Marx, if it isn't too much to ask, I'm tired and I want to sleep. My body hurts. I don't find your little games fun at the moment. Please let me sleep!" I burrow under the thin sheet, supposedly a blanket, and harshly strike my face to the pillow uncomfortably to get my point across.

Instead I feel him toying with my ears. "Are these for real, Mags?"

My head springs up and I suppress a groan and thank the stars it is dark in here, otherwise he'd see me blushing profusely. I dislike Marx. He makes me unhappy. What a prick.

"I asked you a question." Marx reminds darkly. Fear, once again, gnaws at my gut for who knows how many times it's happened today.

I nod despite knowing any movement here would be invisible due to the lack of light. "…Yes, my ears are real. Speaking of which, I'm the only one who has fuzzy ears around here, huh?"

Marx says, "if you don't count the elderly. But otherwise, this is the first I've ever seen of a human carrying ears like that." He says it with so much awe and disbelief that I continue to let him touch it a little while longer. He then starts to stroke my fur.

"It's so soft!" he squeaks. I whimper and think carefully that maybe this actually will benefit my going to sleep.

I yawn but gag not long afterwards as a sharp pain pierces the back of my head and a black veil of mist gradually falls over my vision and everything else suddenly fades when the curtains fall. The last thing I hear is Marx's high-pitched laughter.

. . . . . .

A/N: I guess it's one of those explain-y times, huh. Okay so the symbol on Kirby's sweater happens to be 星 (hoshi), the kanji for "star". And if you forgot or didn't know, Floria is the grassy flowery planet whereas Hotbeat is the pit of Hell in Milky Way Wishes. And the song Marx sings near the end, uhhh, yeah I wrote those lyrics and they're meant to be lyrics to that one musicbox-sounding song in Kirby Super Star Ultra, if you go to Sound Test, it's song number 60. I SANG ALONG SO TO SEE IF THE LYRICS CAN WORK OMF—