To Monkey999Boy: Guilt trip to hell, yes. But there's still some mercy for them. There's mercy for everyone. But how will it play out for them?
To SaturdayLemon: Ah, the tears must be wiped away. But not until more tears and blood are shed.
Note: All the arcs are now listed in a tumblr page I have. It's over at Lkcsi dot tumblr dot com slash s dash hovel dash k dash night dash arcs. Ffnet hates links.
U is for urine.
The Tower of Fate had crumbled.
The Enchantress had fallen. However, she wasn't squished to bloody paste on the wall. Well. Turns out his almost-murderer was a possessed legendary knight.
The Order of No Quarter had revealed themselves to be truly peaceful, just coerced into servitude.
Things were put back where they should have been.
Of course, a trapped sorcerer that spent too many years living on his own had some lovely ideas about his new freedom. No more whooshing out of the invisible wall that the witch erected, and no more having to talk to stupid bird people just to send some messages. Freedom tasted nice, especially when sprinkled with salt and pepper. Anart beamed inwardly. There were so much things to do… and the first in his list of things to do when the Enchantress has gone off the face of the earth (hopefully smashed) was to fight Plague Knight in an honorable duel.
"Plague Knight! Fight me!" Anart flapped his cape and pointed at Plague Knight. The latter stared at the sorcerer with big empty eyeholes.
"He's gone crazy." Mona shook her head, and then glanced to the blonde woman with them. "Magicist? Ever want to make a potion to cure his loose screws? He's your relative, you know. You do have a responsibility."
"Sanity really isn't our forte, you know." The Magicist casually replied.
"Well, what do you want to fight about, hee? Chess? I'm up for chess." Plague Knight nervously laughed.
"No, not chess. I hate chess. It's so hard to win in chess. A fight between sorcery and alchemy!" Anart closed his eyes, a malicious grin on his face. His right hand glowed green as an orb of magic manifested over his palm.
"Hee, your power comes from liquids, and I'm about to exploit that!" Plague Knight mocked. He snapped a finger, and suddenly, bombs materialized all around the two, oozing odorous gas.
"What's that awful smell? Don't tell me you want to fling poop at me? Argh! I'd like my coat to be unstained by animal droppings!"
"What?! I'm dehydrating the place! Dehydration bombs!" Plague Knight let out his evil laugh as grass and earth and even air dried up.
Anart gasped dramatically. "N-no!"
"Hee hee, wizard! Alchemy trumps all!"
"But I haven't activated my trump card yet!" Anart laughed out loud before doing something, closing his eyes,and slightly shaking. Then, when satisfied, his eyes glowed bright green before summoning orbs of magic over his palms.
"You're supposed to be powerless!" Plague Knight gasped as he looked down at Anart's soaked pants.
"Aha, but that is where you are wrong! Urine qualifies as a liquid!"
Plague Knight's beak dropped to the floor. "Eww. Not fighting you. Ewwwww."
"No! Fight me! Please! It's been in my bucket list for thirteen years! Please come back!"
The little alchemist put his hands up before his chest and backed away slowly to hide behind Mona. "Nope. I'm getting out of here, hee. Eugh. He pissed in his pants, Mona."
Mona pat his head. "Hypocrite, you get your waist deep in maggots most of the time."
.
U is for undead.
The apparition hovered over Five, trying to tune out the small whimpers from the adjacent room. She wasn't moving at all. Her frail body stayed under the sheets, her mind unable to wake from a permanent nightmare.
He put the porcelain vase full of wilting violets on the night-table carefully, as if being quiet to not wake a sleeping human. His hand accidentally brushed against a blue petal, and he looked at the rapidly withering flower. Its brilliant blue flower withered away to a brown, lifeless stalk. In seconds, it was reduced to a dry husk of its former loveliness. Specter Knight stared at the dead flower and pursed his lips.
He floated over to Five, his hand stretched out and glowing. Her forehead was too cold… and she wasn't moving even slightly...
"We can't go into that castle, brother…" Irma weakly croaked out. Siegfried raised a thick brow at her and chuckled. His hand flew over to her forehead and neck. She bit back her tears… the horrible ways in which they all died...
"Are you sick, Five? You can still go back. No worries. This is just an investigation on what that mysterious castle is, and as the First Knight, I do need to witness for myself."
"I want all of us to retreat."
"We can't really. It's been creeping with shadow creatures that have been terrorizing the towns near here."
"I have a bad feeling about this, brother. Please listen to me. We have the sorcerer, Anart."
One looked downwards. "Well, to be honest, little sis, I have the same crappy feeling. But we got to do what we have to do. Anart isn't exactly reliable, is he?"
"I know, but we might be better off with him doing the work."
"Five." He shushed, his tone stern. "If you need rest, I'll let you. It's all stressing you out, you know."
"No, please listen to me. We're all going to die there."
He took his hand off her and gazed at the vase of drooping flowers. The tiny decoration brightened up the dusty and dim room, but it wouldn't be long until they wilt and die.
.
U is for united.
Siegfried wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, in the hopes that when he opens them, his sister would be in front of him about to flick at his nose to rouse him from bed. That it was just a nightmare gone too bad and too long.
He closed his eyes, and hoped. He silently prayed.
He opened his eyes.
His gaze was on the sand map, with figures of their forces and the Order of No Quarter. He was not in bed, with his sister sitting beside him and about to pour water on his face. Irma was not there to poke at him to wake him up for a long day. She was not there to jokingly berate him for sleeping in while there was a war going. He shifted in his seat to try and focus on Cecille's plans. She was the de jure First Knight now. Siegfried became Two. She is his superior now.
"... here, we must reassert our power by concentrating on the village between the Iron Whale and the Explodatorium. And if we maintain that, we will show the Order of No Quarter that we do not back down. Until our obliteration, we will fight until the end!" She announced, and the other leaders, both surviving and new, clapped.
Siegfried couldn't smile. Cecille's voice sounded a little bit like his sister's. She showed as much zeal as she once did.
He took my sister away from me. And it's my fault she is gone.
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U is for undercover.
"Oh, hello, are you a weary traveller?" A bird person asked, his head cocked to the side.
Treasure Knight turned to the bird man. He was dressed not in his gold and blue armor, but in a large embroidered green shirt and simple red pants with his sack of gold disguised as dirty stones and a few belongings slung over his shoulder.
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
The bounty hunter stared blankly into beady eyes before he remembered. He was not dressed as himself. He blinked before he could form a response. "I am a weary..."
The bird person snickered. "Have you been so alone that you haven't been able to speak well? And correctly?"
Treasure Knight shrugged. "True. Yes, I have been so alone."
"In that case, come in my home, young one!" Feathered hands gently brushed against the burly knight's wrist and slowly led him into the small but elegant house. The occasional twig could be found in the otherwise spotless floor. There were a lot of chinaware displayed on shelves. Green statues of horses on their hind legs and red eagles with were decorations on tables and drawer furniture. The bounty hunter was drawn to the translucent crystal statues, shining from within itself. He reached his giant hand out to touch the sculptures. His thoughts were overwhelmed by the tiny voice in his head to steal-
"Some of these are made of real jade and ruby. Careful. Don't break them, alright?" The bird person chuckled, and picked up the broom leaning against the corner.
Treasure Knight stopped. His eyes scanned the bird person from beak to claw. His back was turned, and he was singing a small melody as he swept his tiled floor. The tone of his voice… was light? It was good? It was… not accusing? He faced the bird with his jaw agape. No loud yelling?
The feathered man looked over his shoulder and to the bounty hunter. His beady eyes shone, and he put the broom down. He glided over to the shelf, and carefully picked up a small jade eagle. Its wings were spread, and in its feet were a mouse and a snake.
"This is the symbol of the most powerful bird family in our history." He began as he wiped off the dust on the statue. "They rose to power, and protected the bird people from harm. And when they fell, we scattered across the land, and without their guiding power, the bird race fended for themselves until they were finally accepted."
Treasure Knight just balked at him.
"Do you feel left out?" He finally asked, wiping the green statue on his clothes. "If you do, take this. We were left out sometime in the past. But if you fight for your place and strive to do good, you'd get what you wish."
"Why are you saying things like this?"
"Maybe you started to wander because you felt like an outcast? I could never be sure. But being alone isn't so nice… so have this gift." He gently put the jade eagle into Treasure Knight's large hand and hummed a small song.
"Are you sure you want to willingly give me a jade-?"
"Do you feel alone?"
The disguised pillager just blinked at the bird man. "... yes?"
"Well then, I hope you have a good life, young one. Also, you look big and strong. Do you mind if I ask you to carry boxes for my business? I'll pay you."
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U is for uppercut.
Shovel Knight happily sat with children, sitting around the burning campfire. They all wore blankets over themselves and they sat on tiny logs. Pridemoor's greatest and legendary champion laughed as the kids all said the same thing.
"Story! Shovel Knight, story please!" The children chorused altogether, and the blue burrower couldn't help but laugh. His mind went back to a time he witnessed the greatest act of bravery in his life, and nodded to himself. He beckoned to the children, who then started huddling closer to him.
"I have a tale to tell you, not about myself, but about the greatest warrior I have ever met in my life."
The kids all uttered a small 'wow' and their eyes lit up. Their full and undivided attention was on him.
"His name… is the Stalwart."
"Polar Knight?" One of the young ones piped up. "Wasn't he part of the Order of No Quarter, sir?"
"Yes, I know. But he is the most powerful and most honorable knight in the world. Once upon a time, when yours truly was still a small child… there were three children playing in the snow. One girl and two boys. They were pretending to be soldiers. The girl was the evil magician who wants to get the Holy Stone of Hope, and the two boys were the Stone's guardians. The guardians must keep the persistent magician away from the stone for two minutes, and the magician is allowed to do anything but hurt the guardians. And the two boys were not allowed to go out of a circle-"
"Why did the magician want the stone?" One of the children disrupted the flow, tilting her head to the right. "What are the powers of the stone?"
Shovel Knight paused for a short moment, looking towards the side and shrugged. "The stone gives magicians more powerful magic. It allows them better powers."
"I would like a Holy Stone of Hope. I want to be a magician too." She innocently smiled at the shoveler. "I can turn bad people into statues."
"Child, bad people still deserve to be shown how it is to be good. And it's a small game made by children. Anyway, so! The two boys worked together to stop the evil magician! And so valiant were their efforts to halt her from seizing the power of the Holy Stone, but they all could not finish their play."
"Oh no! Why?"
Shovel Knight held his hands up and pounced at the children. They let out tiny yelps of surprise. "Attention! Bandits! But the three children were borne of knights brave and honorable. They were unafraid of the danger!"
"Did they beat the bandits up?" "Did the magician cast a spell on the bandits and turned them into statues?" "Did the Holy Stone glow so bright it blinded them?" "And they slipped on magical banana peelings and they got hit in the head!"
"The boys picked up their shovels and the girl grabbed her shield. 'We're not going down without a fight!', boasted the girl, and charged at the enemies. Remembering how their forefathers fought in battle, they fought, bouncing and bashing the enemy. But alas, for they were small children, they were still caught."
"Aw no!" Then came the chorus of complaints. But the story was not over yet.
"The filthy scoundrels threw the children into a rusty cage. 'You will make nice meat', said one of the bandits, 'you will be sold for the highest price'. And, overcome with fear and helplessness, the children screamed as loud as they could, but their cage was thrown inside a carriage, and the door was shut.
"But their struggle was not unheard, for the knight of ice and snow listened. Snow made everything quiet… and a small cry can be heard far away. His ear heard the children's cries, and the knight immediately grabbed his shovel and set out in the cold landscape."
"Yay, the rescue!"
"And when the knight reached the band of thieves, he was laughed at for having a shovel as a weapon. But the Stalwart knight did not let it faze him, and instead announced that victory was already his." Shovel Knight absent-mindedly grinned gleefully, his childhood memories fresh in his mind. "He fought, rolling the snow into large snowballs with one swipe of his shovel. And there was this one bandit that attacked the knight by jumping up high and pummeling downwards!"
"Oh no!"
"But the Stalwart knight knew everything! His beard gave him knowledge of everything happening around him. He turned on the ball of his foot, and shot his fist upwards, and sent his airborne opponent back up, up in the air!"
"Wow!" "He's so strong!" "That's so cool!"
The blue shoveller laughed. "A pun?"
"Yes, Punslinger of the Valley!" He smiled with his crooked teeth. "Cool!"
Shovel Knight laughed at his moniker and ruffled the kid's messy hair. "Anyway, when the knight was finished, the bandits were so hurt and defeated that they could only cower in the snow! He single-handedly defeated the swarm of enemies! The knight went to take the children out of their prison. His large strong hands ripped apart the metal cage and let the children out. They climbed up him and cheered. Do you remember who the knight was? It was Polar Knight… and Shield Knight, Black Knight, and I were the children in this story. And I literally stood on the shoulder of a giant."
The children erupted into noisy wonder.
Black Knight's face was contorted in a masquerade of a snarl, and Shield Knight poked him in the head. Polar Knight softly chuckled at Shovel Knight with kids from nearby, lightly tapping her shoulder. She smiled at her partner's storytelling, and then she looked up at the old warrior.
"Yes?"
"Do you remember this? What Shovel Knight told of?"
"Oh, of course! It was the time he looked up at you and made you his life idol!" She sipped her water from the wooden glass.
"He should know I did come with the Order of Shovelry. And I was not alone."
Shield Knight almost spat out her drink. "What? You were alone? Ehhh. Don't make such a weird claim!"
"You were alone." Black Knight murmured.
Polar Knight just chuckled softly. "My… children... you have grown."
.
U is for undo.
The stars were bright and the half-moon illuminated the earth below. They watched the poor being in a forest, his clothes torn and burnt and his feet bare and bleeding from the sharp stones he had to walk on.
Anart's cold hands trembled, green spheres encircling them. They glowed dimly, like the runes on the ground, which were a faint yellow. He had clawed at the ground with his shaking hands and his tears had fallen to the writings. His voice was soft and he bit back his sobs.
"Este ivi…"
The lines on the ground glowed weaker, and he momentarily fell down on his knees. The spheres on his hands disappeared. The runes flickered before it became luminescent again, and he blinked his tears of panic away. He breathed in, before uttering the words of the time rewind spell.
"Este ivi, seit vor re-"
Violet flames erupted from the ground, growing quickly. He yelped and flinched, and the sorceress' counteracting spell sent him flying away. Fire burned on the ground, on the trees, and on animals that happened to be unlucky. The screams of death split the night.
"Do you think you would be able to rewind time, water mage?" The Enchantress growled, and she launched several fiery orbs at him. He quickly brought up a magical shield to protect him, but it failed immediately. He yelped at the scalding pain on his arms, legs, and chest. Parts of his hair burned off. Sharp daggers made of evil flame stabbed his stomach and chest, and he cried out in pain. She twisted those blades before letting them vanish, and she watched him fall down to the earth with sadistic glee.
"Every time you try to undo your mistake, you will have a taste of my power." She mocked, while watching him spit out blood and clutch his wounds.
"I don't deserve this…"
"Yes. You summoned the worst demon, sorcerer. In pursuit of power, you committed a mortal sin. And you know which of us is clearly more powerful. You cannot even use your own blood as a water source."
"I can… witch… just watch me." Anart coughed out, before his body gave out and he fell face down on the ground.
"You're just a pathetic mortal, water mage." She laughed before she disappeared in a flash of purple.
The fire around the dying sorcerer raged around and spread. His green eyes stared blankly at the creeping orange flames, slowly inching towards him. The smoke entered his lungs, and he couldn't even cough. Anart closed his eyes, breathing in dry and smoky air. His life was bleeding away.
There was a flash of lightning, and thunder roared from the heavens. Storm clouds quickly gathered, and torrents of rain fell from them.
The fires were extinguished in a matter of minutes and the cool rain soothed his dying body. In his dazed state, Anart saw a figure appear from a lightning strike. He felt his body being lifted up, and then saw blue and gold before sleep took him.
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U is for unstable.
"Anart. We have someone interested in the magic arts for you." Cecille gently ruffled Ophelia's hair. The young child clutched the new First Knight's cape when Anart knelt down and looked at her with inquisitive eyes. "She is the daughter of our late Three, Roman. She is now orphaned."
"Why did you not just bring the tyke to a daycare center?" The sorcerer raised his brow.
"She wouldn't stop talking about how she wants to meet you. And seeing that her father is gone, I thought it would be alright to let her see you." And how unstable you are so she would just shut up, she didn't add.
"Oh! You wanted to see me? Good! I met your father once, I think, and I think he's amazing!" Anart smiled, and held up his hand to produce a small yellow sphere. "Look in this orb, little sorceress."
Ophelia stared at the yellow ball over the seasoned sorcerer's palm, and stopped quivering.
"Do you see your father's face inside?"
"That's… Siegfried." Ophelia croaked out, and the wizard gawked. Cecille sighed deeply.
"Ah, I have the wrong picture." Anart nervously chuckled, and pulled up the Enchantress' evil face for the little child to see. "Here is my enemy, the Enchantress. Do you know who she is?"
"The… evil demon up north…"
"Yes, yes. And do you know what I would like to do someday in revenge for making me like this?" Anart cackled, his eyes taking on a white blaze. "I want to stomp her with my giant foot! She made me walk on sharp pebbles, and now I want to walk on her!"
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U is for usurper.
King Knight sneered at the horrific and misshapen husk of a man on the floor. The man who was Three did not look like himself anymore. A quivering Liquid Samurai head had grown on the left side of his head, replacing the area over his left eye and ear. Another shaking head emerged on the right side of his chest. A third samurai head was starting to sprout from between his shoulders. His body had lost its solid state and normal skin tone and was permanently in a barely cohesive liquid state. The terrible abomination was a messy mix of black, blue, red, and green. The thing's moans of pain were muffled by his own amorphous body.
The usurper turned to the Goldarmor and gave his next order. "Bring their Seven here. And dispose of that." He pointed to the being who was once Roman, the Third Knight. "It looks ugly. Get it out before I burn it myself."
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U is for Ultimate Potion.
He sat with his back propped up on three pillows piled on top of one another and his feet up. His right hand turned one page of his fellow researcher's book and let out a small sigh, and his left held a glass of apple juice. He continued sipping at his juice through his mask. He glowered at the corny name of the potion that his new acquaintance scribbled.
Serum Supernus.
"Mona! What is this?" He called out.
No answer.
Guess she's outside, then. He curiously peeked back into Mona's book, peering at her drawings.
Research has proven the existence of a curious element in the alchemical makeup of a living being - a force of personality, somehow existing as a physical entity that can be extracted. The discovery was of pure accident. A sorcerer I am always at close proximity to accidentally cast the wrong spell because he uttered the wrong syllable.
Plague Knight sighed. That actual wizard already had a little bit of a stammer. Poor guy.
Instead of summoning a benign demon, he pulled out something from Percy. Further testing on Percy's 'force of personality' revealed that it was volatile but contains a lot of potential energy in the form of chemical reactions.
He read the side notes, a lot of it crossed out.
I should probably call it… "persona". No, "spirit". Wait, it wouldn't really qualify as a spirit, it's corporeal, so let's call it "persona". Testing on it reveals that Percy's idiocy still wasn't gone after dissecting the thing, so.. "Essence", I guess?
"Essence" seems to grow exponentially when combined with another "essence." Theoretically this might result in a powerful brew, but because more than three combined already cleared a crater in this plateau, we need to make things stable first. The question is how do alchemists deal with a physical manifestation of personality...
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U is for unexpected.
Plague Knight and Mona's wedding went swimmingly. The Bard was playing music in the side with his orchestra-lute. Lovely music filled the Flying Machine, and couples were dancing for the reception.
A certain blond-haired man with a wide hat held a vase of flowers and walked around, his gaze scanning every person's face. He tried not to mind the entourage of women and, occasionally, men, following him, and he was already inwardly screaming for help. Clutching the vase of flowers and trying to not break into a sprint were both hard to do. He just wanted to give someonea nice bouquet of fresh and beautiful daffodils, gardenia flowers, and purple hyacinths...
Mole Knight told tales of his discoveries and assured the gentlemen that, no, there are no such things like cursed or magical idols that a lost civilization kept under wraps. And no, no one in his field deals with that crap. Except for maybe the time with the Enchantress, but magic exists, anyway.
Tinker Knight brought along his Cogslotters. They brought along so many sacks of toys and books for the kids that attended the wedding. And he played with them, mainly because he is of a kid's stature. After a long half-hour, he was approached by two girls. One of them was mute and the other, a little tipsy from enjoying shots of tequila, spoke about learning about engineering (and ransacking the Flying Machine's library). Tinker Knight had never been so happy. Being an engineering teacher for the night felt so nice.
Polar Knight and Black Knight coldly sat by the bar, downing glass after glass of wine, and telling listeners of their tales of valor.
Mister Hat tried to keep his eyes on the floor. The hats were all overwhelming. When he looked up, he would see Phantom Striker's spiky helmet and his sparking fleuret. He would violently rip his gaze away from his helmet and resume observing the floor. The rest of the Wandering Travellers did little else aside from eating a lot in the buffet. Reize loved the boiled chicken for some reason. Baz, still dressed in his Plague Minion outfit, happily chowed on fish and chips. Phantom Striker, the enigmatic and intimidating being of storms, grabbed all the cheddar cheese bars and nonchalantly hid them under his large cape.
Treasure Knight was secretly there, not attending as Treasure Knight, but under the alias of Anthony. He struck up a nice conversation with Polar Knight at the bar, and smiled for the first time in his new life back in extreme poverty.
King Knight, allowed one day of extravagant outfits, partnered with Propeller Knight, and then baltered onstage with all the pride in the world. No one could really point out to him that his steps were awkward and out of rhythm, but he did look like he was happy for once. The Frenchman let him dance himself to exhaustion. And King Knight fell asleep in the airship's infirmary ward, curled up in the thin blankets.
Propeller Knight was more than happy to be the noisy and energetic host, but he settled down with the others in a round table. Plague Knight and Mona sat together. Mona was so busy chatting with Shield Knight about their partners and their… shared love for plants.
"... the azalea contains an essence that can augment a cascade explosion up to three times." Mona infodumped to Shield Knight, who looked at her in wonder.
"Oh? Can you show me after?"
Plague Knight leaned towards Shovel Knight, striking up his own conversation. "Look at Magicist and Percy."
Shovel Knight turned his head to look at the dancing couple. The Magicist seemed to laugh so much as Percy galloped around, whinnying loudly and doing what horse guys do to woo their romantic partners. "I don't see the problem."
"You know, I thought she had a crush on me, but I really liked to be dense, hee."
"How cruel of you." The blue burrower tsked. "You're a real heartbreaker, Plague Knight."
"I love Mona. What else should I worry about?"
"Are you secretly in denial she chose Percy?"
The little alchemist gawked at his friend. "No! It's just that… Percy's-"
"Now, now, mes amis, what am I hearing?" Propeller Knight leaned towards Shovel Knight. "Are you two criticizing l'amour?"
"No, no." Plague Knight put his hands up and sheepishly sank in his chair. "I was just really going to say that Percy's an idi-"
Propeller Knight waved his hand up and shook his head, frowning at his friends. "Now let me tell you, mon ami, there is no shame when you love and aime encore de tout ton coeur!"
"We don't speak frog, you know." Plague Knight scoffed in annoyance, and crossed his arms. But Propeller Knight had already launched into amourous mode, catching everyone's attention.
"Whoever or whatever it is! Whisper sweet words about how you love them and that you'd do absolument tout for them!" The captain sighed happily, and wrapped his arms around himself. "And after all, you can still use your hands and arms, play with their so douces plumes or fourrure… then embrace them... get your lips closer... Then, let your passion flare up when your faces touch each other, your lips entering in contact... and then, it's the grand finale!"
"Oh no." Shovel Knight muttered under his breath. He's never going to stop, isn't he? He made eye contact with the Frenchman's bodyguard standing just a small distance from their table and sent a telepathic distress message. Albrecht just shook his head and rolled his blue eyes in disappointment and walked to the knights' round table.
"Le bouquet final, la cerise sur le gâteau! Le baiser! Slow or fast, soft or brutal! It's perfection! Use your lips, and your tongue… and while you kiss, you can also play with their hair, grip at it if they li-"
Albrecht finally had enough of it, and swiftly attacked by approaching his boss from behind and grabbing a fistful of his captain's hair. He gently yanked his hair downward after a short pause. Propeller Knight let out an overdramatic high-pitched yelp, and then furrowed his brows at his subordinate.
"Schtop. You're getting carried avay." Albrecht avoided his superior's gaze and crossed his arms.
Propeller Knight combed his fingers through his soft locks and rubbed at a spot. "I'm never going to let you touch my hair ever again, Albrecht. Like, ever." He reached up to grip at his friend's light brown curls and lightly pulled. "How does that feel?"
"Bite your butt, Käse." Albrecht growled.
"Bite yours too, pomme de terre."
"Dummkopf."
"Idiot."
"Du bist verrückt!"
"T'es con!"
Phantom Striker, sitting next to Propeller Knight, let out a soft growl in warning, his knife and fork sparking with electricity. The two immediately stopped. Once they went silent, the stormbringer calmed down, and began eating his dinner of spiced mashed potatoes.
"Wait. He can touch your hair?" Plague Knight pointed at the two flyboy friends. "What?"
"Of course! Anyone can touch my hair with permission!" Propeller Knight cheerfully elbowed the fencer sitting on his right. Phantom Striker carefully tucked his cheese stash under his cape to ensure security and then turned to face the Frenchman. He silently put his fork down on his plate.
"What is it that you wish to say, Propeller Knight?"
"Caresse mes cheveux pour leur montrer que je laisse n'importe qui les toucher à n'importe quel moment." The Frenchman shamelessly commanded, pointing to his hair and stroking his own locks.
"The heck did he just say?" Plague Knight squawked.
The knights sitting in the round table were taken aback by Phantom Striker's lack of surprise, fluent understanding of French, and wordless compliance. The lone warrior just shifted in his seat and reached his hands out to his seatmate.
Zap.
Then, the knights raised a brow when Propeller Knight's long hair stood up like sticks when the other fencer's finger poked his shoulder. Albrecht immediately lost his composure and laughed so hard at his superior's ridiculous hair. Phantom Striker awkwardly poked at his fellow fencer's hair with one finger before letting go.
Propeller Knight's hair fell down, cascading beside his face and still retaining the glow and volume it had before each strand stood on its end. He completed it with a flashy hair flip and an audibly gleaming smile.
"Hair goals." Mona giggled to Shield Knight.
"I'm so jealous of his hair. Let's ask what he does to make our hair look that way!" Shield Knight smiled.
Plague Knight tapped Mona's arm and spoke. "Hee hee… why are you two suddenly interested in hair?"
Mona cupped her short hair and let it bounce a bit on her palm. "I do want to look pretty sometimes. I also love my cut."
"We aren't allowed to have nice hair? I'm a knight, she's an alchemist. Everyone just does what they want. I happen to like makeup sometimes!" Shield Knight refuted with a mock scowl and went back to talking with Mona.
Albrecht let out a tiny snarl at Propeller Knight before entertaining a cook that had been standing there for a long and awkward moment.
"Vhat?"
The cook turned to Propeller Knight. "Captain, much of our cheese is gone."
Albrecht gazed back at his superior, meeting his eyes. Propeller Knight nodded then stood up from his seat and tapped Albrecht on the shoulder before leaving to inspect the cheese burglary. The German followed his captain close behind, not sparing a glance at the actual thief that had been sitting next to his friend. Phantom Striker paid no attention, anyway. The cheese was safely hidden.
Plague Knight turned to Shovel Knight. The latter had been staring at Phantom Striker for a few moments.
"Hee hee, Shovel Knight, do you know who he is?"
The cerulean warrior shrugged. "I first met him as I was nearing the Tower of Fate. He said something about the traits of respectable warriors."
"Wow! He told me that too. I think he's a little... " He made a swirling motion beside his temple.
"Plague Knight, I must be frank. You are a little like that, too."
"Wow, rude." He started to think if his wedding was getting any worse. He leaned in to whisper to the shoveller. "I don't like him."
"Then why did you invite him to your wedding?"
"I had to! Baz and Reize dragged him and that hat lunatic here!"
"He has not done anything wrong. I do admit, he is out of it." His voice lowered as he admitted it.
Phantom Striker was blissfully unaware, and continued enjoying his meal.
.
U is for umbrella.
"There's a storm! Take this umbrella with you!" Mister Hat thrust a fancy pink umbrella decorated with flower motifs and ruffles into Phantom Striker's hand, staring at his magnificent spiky helmet all the time. The latter didn't mind the uncomfortable stare at his headgear, yet felt resistant to the former's fussing.
"Please do not be overdramatic. A storm I caused cannot harm me, and it is only light rain and wind. Do you see not?" Phantom Striker attempted to return the umbrella, but Mister Hat was too persistent.
"Do you know how much damage rain does to metal?" The foppish hat dandy almost shrieked, stroking the spikes of the helmet. "I cannot afford to lose a shiny hat to rain!"
"Mister Hat. You forget that this is mine." He pointed at his spiked helmet, and then grinned widely as he watched the hat man fidget and twitch when he brought the helmet's ownership up.
"You will take care of your hat." The dapper dandy sternly squeezed his hand over Phantom Striker's, glaring intently. "And you will go out with an umbrella."
And so Phantom Striker had to bring a frilly pink umbrella for women. As soon as he got out of Mister Hat's sight, he closed the umbrella and let the rain soak him. He walked calmly under his storm, not sparing the locals a gaze.
He heard whispers.
What a mysterious man. Powerful, too!
I heard he had battled every Knight of the Order of No Quarter and Shovel Knight before the Tower of Fate crumbled.
I heard he's fierce and lusts after blood.
He lost to them all anyway. Who cares about him?
He is controlling the storm. He must be evil… I don't get why the champions befriended him. Nobody could understand him.
He's silent and scary. Never even liked to be casual. Quite edgy, too. No one likes him.
He walked past Wallace, the guard by the entrance, and nodded wordlessly.
"Stay safe out of the Armor Outpost, Wandering Traveller." Wallace politely saluted. "You never know when evil elements strike."
"Ah, thank you." He replied softly, before leaving.
The stormbringer kept his head and shoulders high, until he had wandered far away. The storm still raged, the rain falling in torrents and the lightning flashing every now and then. By a cliff near the icy area of Polar Knight's domain, he sat down with his back to a boulder and pulled his spiky helmet off of his head. He let the rain on his face and slicked long hair towards the back with his fingers. The rain and the wind were his only true friends.
The lights in the Armor Outpost were dazzling and pretty. The ever-burning lava of the Lost City looked so beautiful. The Explodatorium was flooded with lights. And to the distance, Pridemoor's towns and castles were illuminated with lovely lamps. The Lich Yard was still dim, but the clouds above it cleared with Specter Knight's newfound peace. He looked the the western forest and blinked. Last time je had been there, it had been on fire, and someone had been mortally wounded in that wildfire.
He sighed. He always brought darkness and disaster, with his storm being his only companion. He truly enjoyed no one's company. Being alive alone was a challenge. And fighting alone is an even bigger challenge. He lived solely for the thrill of battle.
Everyone thinks I am frightening… but I do not care.
The storm subsided with the cloak of sleep wrapping around him. He clutched his cape close to him like a blanket.
He almost drifted into sleep when he heard a twig snap and a shocked gurgling yelp from beside him. His eyes snapped open, and he glared into the blue eyes of a small Liquid Samurai standing a few steps away from him. Lightning struck him and he disappeared briefly, only to return in a brilliant light with his fleuret in his hand. Electricity sparked in his figure and weapon as he eyed the enemy samurai with a grimace.
The blue warrior was too short. It was just half his height. And it wasn't dressed in the light armor that they usually wore. It only wore a bright blue gi and it did not have even the horns on its head. It shook more when Phantom Striker inched closer, and when he pointed his weapon at it, it stepped back and whimpered. It drew its quivering arms to itself and finally screamed, before turning into a small globule on the ground, barely bigger than the stormbringer's palm.
Phantom Striker looked into its wide blue eyes, and wondered. It wasn't fighting, and it was shaking too much. He put his weapon down as he kneeled and inspected the terrified little blob.
The liquid child cried softly, so frightened to run, despite it being a blue Liquid Samurai. It was one of the worst opponents to encounter, but… here was one, terrified beyond its wits.
"Do not fear." He reached out and touched the top of its head. Its eyes squeezed shut. He stroked its hood gently. "Do not fear me, little one. I will not harm you, even if you belong to the enemy."
Its eyes opened and scanned his face. He picked it up with his palm and almost reacted to the ticklish sensation. It bobbed on his hand. Its eyes curled, and it let out a small laugh. It stayed on his hand and snuggled into it.
"Little one, are you lost? Do you not know where your companions are?"
Its eyes stayed on his face, still wide but its form shook less.
"Alright. Do not fret. Let us find them-"
Thunder roared, and the small blob let out a fearful shriek. It travelled up his arm and on his shoulder, burying its face into his soaked hair. He picked up his helmet and cape, put them on, and grabbed the umbrella. He opened it and held it above him. The small blob peeked out, bewildered at the lack of rain.
And Phantom Striker started walking. It still snuggled close to his neck and face whenever thunder rumbled, but eventually, it fell asleep on his shoulder.
Phantom Striker didn't pay much attention to the cute small samurai. And he continued to walk aimlessly.
The rain had ceased pouring in torrents, and the skies showered the earth with drizzle. And he walked and walked, all the while allowing the slumbering blob snuggle on his shoulder. Sometimes he would gently push it up when it started to fall off.
And eventually he found himself surrounded by liquid men, most of them colored green and blue. They had the strings of their yumi drawn and their sights on him. Red samurai sprang up from cracks in the earth and behind trees to attack, their katana swords pointed at him.
The tiny blue blob on the lone warrior's shoulder abruptly yelled, and they all stopped. It climbed up over his nose and eyes and reformed into a humanoid on top of his head. He didn't flinch at the weight on his head, and let the small samurai wave and shout.
The event that unfolded before him was amazing.
The greens and blues dropped their weapons and gurgled happily, their arms open. The small one on his head jumped off and sprinted to them, and it was immediately enveloped in a group hug. They blabbered and wept on the small samurai, like a family that had lost a child and found him after so much time.
The red ones did not move, and still eyed Phantom Striker. After all, they were still was about to summon lightning to bring him back to the Armor Outpost when he saw the small samurai sprint back to him and latch onto him.
"Arigato! Arigato!" It cheerfullysaid before pushing his helmet off, leaning onto his face, and planting a tiny kiss on his cheek. Phantom Striker's eyed widened in utter shock as it hugged him as tight as it could. After a long moment it fell off him. It looked so pleased, while he still stared at it in puzzlement.
What did it do to me?
The short samurai let out a puzzled gurgle and stared at the wet umbrella in Phantom Striker's hand. The latter looked at the introspective child-like being, and let out a thoughtful hum.
"Have this, little one." He knelt and gently offered him the pink umbrella he held, and it took the frilly umbrella. It gave him one last surprise hug and ran back to its companions. The red samurai lowered their swords and withdrew with their brothers, and left.
He watched the samurai walk away and wave goodbye to him, endlessly thanking him for his kindness and honor.
And once again, Phantom Striker was left alone. He sighed. No true friends. The lone warrior picked his helmet up and put it back on.
And so, in a lightning strike, he disappeared.
Needless to say, Mister Hat was beyond disappointed in him over losing the fancy umbrella.
Up next: V is for Valentine's Day.
Translations:
[Insert Propeller Knight's amourous speech in Franglais here] - My friend, there is no shame when you love and love again from all your heart! Whoever or whatever it is! Whisper sweet words about how you love them and that you'd do absolutely everything for them! And after all, you can still use your hands and arms, play with their so soft feathers or fur, then embrace them... Get your lips closer... Then, let your passion flare up when your faces touch each other, your lips entering in contact... And then, it's the grand finale! The finale, the cherry on the top of the cake! The kiss! Slow or fast, soft or brutal! It's perfection!
Caresse mes cheveux pour leur montrer que je laisse n'importe qui les toucher à n'importe quel moment. - touch my hair to show them anyone can touch it anytime.
Arigato! - Thank you!
Käse - cheese
pomme de terre - potato
Dummkopf - idiot
Idiot - … do you even NEED me to translate this?
Du bist verrückt - you are insane
T'es con - you're an idiot/dick
As such, please report typos to me through PM or Tumblr ask messages. The majority of this was typed using a phone. Thank you in advance!