Gamer4 in. And... whatdya know, another unnecessarily long break! Huzzah! I do have an excuse this time, though, for anyone who actually cares- for all my talk about how excited I was to get to this book, I think I may have come in a tad unprepared. What am I talking about? Well, I wasn't quite sure yet how I was going to handle the detentions- a block that hit me at the end of last chapter and sustained itself until yesterday, when I finally saw the youtube viral sensation that inspired me to get back to work- between it and a previous review, I know what to do now. More on that later. Aside from that, I get the feeling that last chapter rubbed a few people the wrong way. Not to go into specifics, but... I just get the feeling. Once again, if anything I say in these stories gets particularly on anyone's nerves, feel free to let me know- these are just supposed to be good, harmless entertainment, after all. Alright, let's get going.
Disclaimer: So bye, bye, Ms. American Pie, drove my chevy to the levy but the levy was dry. Them good ol' boys were drinking whisky and rye, singin' 'This will be the day that I die... this will be the day that I die...'
Chapter XIII
The Intrigues of Fassad Yokuba
Mario wasn't looking forward to dinner that night- he was well aware of the speed with which rumors traveled in this mansion. Sure enough, no sooner had he set foot in the hall than everyone collectively fell silent, only to resume their conversations- an odd amount of which seemed to revolve around him. Mario furrowed his brow- before, they'd been falling quiet whenever he drew near, giving him the sense they'd been talking about him without giving him any definitive proof. Now, however, they seemed almost eager to ensure that he knew exactly what they were discussing. Running this theory past Zelda, he received a firm nod.
"I think you're right," she agreed. "If they've heard about what happened with Fassad, it makes a certain amount of sense. Demented sense, but sense nonetheless."
"What kind of sense are you talking about?" Mario asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, you got angry at Fassad, and shouted more about what happened that night than anyone's heard since last year," Zelda pointed out. "Maybe they think, if they get you angry enough, you'll tell the whole story start to finish."
"And, what, it'll suddenly sound just as believable now as it did then?" Mario asked skeptically.
"Did it?" Zelda raised an eyebrow of her own.
"Pardon?"
"Did it sound believable last year?" Zelda clarified.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that everything happened with just about the worst possible timing," Zelda explained her line of logic. "It's within the last weeks of the school year, the last trial happens, and you show up at the edge of the labyrinth with DK's body in your arms. People probably assumed it was an accident to begin with, and it's only a few days later that the Master Hand tells them otherwise. Before what he says can really sink in, and they have the opportunity to decide for themselves what's going on, they all go back home, and spend three months reading about how you and the Master Hand are on a fast trip to loony town. If I didn't know you so well, I'd probably be a bit skeptical myself!"
Mario recognized the truth of her words, but that didn't mean that it made him any happier about the situation. The weather outside reflected his mood, rain pounding relentlessly on the windows as they ate, then proceeded to climb up the mansion towards the Nintendo hub.
"What up, Space Jesus?" Link grinned as they approached Rosalina. Zelda sighed.
"Really? Didn't you read the new rule list? We're not supposed to do that!"
"Hey, that's a different Master Hand's rules list, not ours," Link smirked. "And as such, I will endeavor to break every single rule on that list by the end of the year!"* Clearing his throat, be began singing at the top of his lungs. "LET IT GO, LET IT GOOOO! CAN'T HOLD IT BACK ANYMORE!"
"BLUE STAR!" Zelda shouted over the green swordsman, as Mario tackled him to the ground. Rosalina nodded, hand pinching the bridge of her nose, as she swung forward to admit them. Zelda stepped in, while Mario dragged Link over the threshold, cap pressed against Link's mouth.
They'd left dinner somewhat early- aside from Simba the meowth leaping up onto Mario's lap, they were just about alone.
Mario sighed, rubbing his eyes vigorously. He collapsed back into his chair, resting, until a soft sound met his ears- a very familiar, teapot-whistle sound. Opening his eyes, he glanced over at Link, who looked just as confused as he did. Over at the fire, but there was no actual teapot present either. Finally, they both located the source- Zelda, burning brightly red. Abruptly, she shouted, bringing her fists down on the arms of her chair. "WHAT THE ACTUAL FU-"
"AAARRRGGHHHH!" Mario cried, interrupting her- Zelda's outburst had prompted Simba to leap up, digging his claws into Mario's leg as he springboarded over the back of the chair and onto the hub's floor, hissing, and leaving inch-deep puncture wounds in his wake.
"What's up with you?" Link asked, surprised.
"How could the Master Hand let this happen to us?!" Zelda raged.
"What, the rain? It's not like he can control the weather-"
"SCREW THE RAIN!" Zelda interrupted. "I'm talking about that 'Protection from the Evils' teacher! How could he have chosen that... that..."
"I'm not sure he had much choice in the matter," Mario shrugged, rubbing his legs as he attempted to be the voice of reason. "You know how hard it is to find someone that'll take the job, everyone thinks it's cursed."
"Yeah, but there had to be a better option than to hire someone like him!" Zelda was on the point of shrieking.
"Yeah, and if that's not bad enough, he's trying to turn the student body into his own personal spy squad," Link nodded darkly. "You heard the smeg he was saying- about this mansion being a safe space, how anyone should report anyone else talking about the Great Darkness to him..."
A shadow was passing overhead. Finally, Mario shook his head. "We can worry about that later- for now, we've got a heap of homework to get started on. Might as well..."
"Yeah, sure," Link nodded, producing three laptops from hammerspace, one for each member of the crew. "You guys are so lucky that that's my power."
"Dang right," Mario agreed wearily, booting his up. "May as well get started with Wolf- as good a starting place as any."
"Yeah, sure," Link shrugged halfheartedly. He opened up his writing program and began typing. "In regards to Plumes of Dusk and their use within the world of power-ups..." he read aloud as he typed. Smiling slightly, he saved his document and looked up at Zelda. "So, what exactly are Plumes of Dusk, and why are they so important in the world of power-ups?"
Zelda anime fell right on top of her laptop, shaking as she climbed back up into her chair. "Not even going to try to do this one on your own, are you? Do a little research, huh?"
"I am- it's just that my encyclopedia has skin, bones, and internal organs," Link smirked.
Zelda was on the point of responding when her eyes narrowed. Link recoiled, an apology ready on his lips, but when Zelda made her move, it was right past him and into the corner of the room where Kirby, Meta Knight, and Teddy Ellay were surrounded by a group of newcomers to the school, handing out small candies from a bag in their hands. Link gulped, then quietly took a position behind his red-clothed comrade, ready to let Zelda do the legwork on this one.
And she did, seizing Teddy's bullhorn from his hands, turning it up to full blast, and belting out, "CEASE AND DESIST, AGENTS OF CHAOS!"
Unfortunately, by that time, the noobs had already consumed the candies, and had all fainted onto the ground.
"Geez, Zelda, no need to be so loud," Teddy cringed, rubbing a pinky in his ear with one hand, taking his horn back with the other. "I need that for commentating on Smash-Up games!"
"And I need it for stopping crooks like you!" Zelda snarled.
"Crooks? Us?" Kirby and Meta fired up their 'innocence halos.' "What part of what we're doing is against the rules? We're paying them for their trouble, and they're not in any real danger!"
"Yeah, see, they're coming round as we speak!" Teddy nodded vigorously, pointing to where the noobs were wearily beginning to climb to their feet. Mario blinked. The twins were talking a good game, but there was a certain look of surprise in those kids' faces that all-too-clearly said they'd had no idea what those candies actually were.
"Are you okay?" Meta asked a nearby noob gently as he helped her to her feet.
"Yeah, fine," she nodded, though her head seemed a tad floppy. "Just... just a little sleepy... I think I'll go to bed early..."
"Excess drowsiness," Meta whispered to his cohorts. "Write that down."
"Aye, sir," Kirby whispered back.
"You two are unbelievable," Zelda crossed her arms.
"What's so bad about it?" Kirby and Meta asked again. "We're not forcing them to do anything we haven't done ourselves- we ran all sorts of tests on us first, to make sure they were safe!"
"And those tests, you can keep doing," Zelda nodded. "But you will not con first years into your little experiments! Consider this strike two- if we get to strike three..."
"What, you'll wag your finger at us?" Kirby goaded.
"Make us copy out some lines?" Meta agreed.
"No, I won't touch you," Zelda shook her head. "I know nothing I do can faze you- no point in trying. However, I'm sure Mrs. Faron would be very interested in knowing what you're up to..."
For the first time, a genuine look of fear crossed the puffballs faces. "You... you wouldn't!" They tried to recover their bravado, but the damage was done- Zelda had won, and they all knew it.
"Clear up, and don't let me see you doing this again," Zelda narrowed her eyes at them one last time, before turning back to the other two. Resuming her seat, she glared in Mario's direction. "You can come on out, now."
"Who was hiding?" Link asked, crawling out from behind the mustachioed matador, who was currently glaring at the author and his forced alliteration. "I just lost my pen."
"We're typing," Zelda pointed out. "Well... I was... I can't concentrate anymore. I'm turning in."
She returned her laptop to Link, who dutifully returned it to hammerspace. This done, she reached into her own bag, produced from it two scraps of paper, placed them on the table, crossed the room to the trash can, and dumped it all over the table on top of said scraps.
"The flip are you doing?" Link asked, bewildered.
"I wrote some poems for the yoshis over the summer," Zelda explained. "A bit of... moral support, you know?"
"Moral support, my butt," Link crossed his arms. "You know just as well as we do that yoshis are freed with written work."
"Is that how it works?" Zelda asked, putting on a facade of confusion. "Huh, had no idea."
"Yeah, bull," Link knitted his brow. "Look, I honestly wouldn't be against it so much, except for the garbage- what, you're forcing them into freedom whether they want it or not? Isn't that technically the opposite of freedom?"
"No assassin's creed bull here!" Zelda crossed her arms right back. "You leave those poems alone!"
With that, she turned and marched upstairs.
Link grunted, then returned all the garbage to the bin, leaving the poems in place- though Mario cringed when he glanced at said poems and realized how bad they were. 'Song of the Mermaid' was full of cliches, but even so, was an instant classic compared to 'Ode to a Marmalade Muffin.'
Link sighed as he resumed his seat. "Might as well leave 'em there, for any yoshis that really want them, but it doesn't sit right with me unless it really is their choice." With that, he shut his laptop. "No point, without her around- I'm still not entirely sure what a Plume of Dusk is. You?"
"The feather of a raven?" Mario shrugged. "Not a clue. But... you know we'll regret this tomorrow, right?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Link shrugged. Not one to disagree with that kind of logic- especially when he was as tired as he was- Mario shut his laptop as well and followed his friend up to bed.
XXXX
The next morning dawned, not bright, and definitely not sunny- the entire sky had been swallowed by clouds and drizzle. Between the golden trio, Zelda was the only one looking happy. When questioned, she responded, "My poems disappeared. Seems the yoshis are a little more keen on freedom than you gave them credit for."
"Or they just picked them up by accident," Mario pointed out- yeah, the poems hadn't been hidden anymore, but Zelda didn't know that, so said logic still applied.
"Well... well..." Zelda turned red.
"Or maybe they were just so badly-written they didn't actually count," Link threw his two cents into the ring.
And so it came to be that Zelda refused to talk to him for the rest of the morning.
Today, they had both an extra-long weapons class with Pikachu, and an extra-long transformation class with Samus, both of whom were keen on reminding them that the A.L.B.A.T.R.O.S.S. tests were on their way. Samus, as one might expect, was particularly severe.
"The A.L.B.A.T.R.O.S.S. tests have the potential to alter the course of your life," she spoke to her class. "I expect every single one of you to pass with at least a silver- and yes, Luigi, I'm looking at you, too," she added, softening ever so slightly as her gaze crossed the lanky lad in lime. "The only thing you truly need is some confidence- it sounds cliche, but believing in yourself really is paramount in your smashing endeavors. Now, to work..."
The work she provided them with was some of the most difficult that they had ever been put to within the walls of the Smash Mansion, and both Mario and Link were thoroughly exhausted by class's end. Not Zelda, though- as ever, she passed with flying colors, earning her some points from Samus, and enough of her smugness back that she was comfortable talking with Link once again.
Both Samus and Pikachu had added significantly to their workload, and it was with no small amount of panic that the trio ate a quick lunch before convening in the library to work on their essay for Wolf. Mario's temples were beginning to throb as they finally left the mansion and trekked down the lawn for their first Smashing Creatures class.
Sure enough, Kjelle was the one waiting for them next to Crazy's cabin, all set with a large tank at her side, within which were many large, round, adorable-looking orange creatures, floating complacently in the air.
"What are these things?" he asked of Kjelle as he approached. "Let me guess- only girls can approach safely, right?"
"I can do without the snide remarks, Mario," Kjelle's eyes narrowed. "I'll have you know that I took some therapy over the summer, and I'll be striving to be a tad more inclusive this time around- especially since I'll be staying a tad longer."
Before Mario could ask exactly how long, Kjelle had already turned to the rest of the class. "Alright, everyone here? Good- let's start with the obvious question- can anyone tell me what these creatures are?"
Up shot Zelda's hand, almost breaking the speed of light. Bowser and his crew were quick to point and chortle, only to let out yelps of fright as one of Bowser's claws clanked against the tank, prompting each and every one of the orange creatures within to transform into horrifying abominations, eyes fusing into one, mouths sprouting rows of sharp teeth, and swarming to chomp at them- only to be blocked by the tank's glass.
"Those," Zelda smirked, "would be scarfies."
"Correct," Kjelle nodded. "Five points to Nintendo. These are, indeed, scarfies, and, as Mr. Dragmire has just demonstrated, they appear docile until they perceive a threat, at which point they become much more threatening themselves in return. It is therefore critical to approach them with the utmost caution- they only lash out against perceived danger. For safety's sake, we'll be keeping them in this tank for the remainder of the lesson- for now, observe them from behind the glass, with the end goal of giving me an anatomical sketch of them by class's end."
The class broke, breaking out sketch pads and pencils as they warily approached the den of scarfies. Mario, on the other hand, made his way to the teacher. "Where's the Hand?"
"In his office, I'd imagine," Kjelle said evasively. "Being this school's headmaster has to take a lot of work, I'd imagine."
"You know which Hand I'm talking about," Mario's eyes narrowed.
"No need for you to know," Kjelle cocked her head away from him. Mario blinked- this was odd compared to her half-sympathetic attitude last year- this time around, she seemed to be actively evading the topic. What was going on here?
He heard a snort, and turned to see the loathsome turtle behind him, sketchbook in hand. "My guess is the moron's got himself in the doghouse, dog," he chortled. "Bitten off a bit more than he could chew. Dealin' with things a bit... beyond his reach, you dig?"
Mario was burning up. He hated not knowing things when Bowser did. Then, a horrible thought occurred to him... Ghirahim, Bowser's father, was a starman... did the starmen know something about Crazy's fate that had yet to reach Philanthropy's ears?
Truly concerned, he turned to Link and Zelda, but Zelda immediately nixed the idea. "The Master Hand would know. Don't worry about Crazy- yeah, he's crazy, but he can still take care of himself. Besides, ten to one, wherever he is, Okami Amaterasu's with him, right?"
Mario looked back at the past story- yeah, that seemed fairly likely, and if the Crazy Hand or Amaterasu could take care of themselves individually, they had to be a force to be reckoned with combined.
As the lesson finished and they walked back up the hill to the mansion, Peach appeared from the nearby greenhouses, a familiar girl with wings extending from her head not far behind. "Yo," Peach flashed a grin at Mario as she passed.
"Hello, Mario," Melia greeted him formally. "I just wished to inform you that I believe you. I believe that the Great Darkness returned, that you fought him, and escaped."
"Yeah... sure... you get right to the point, don't you?" Mario asked, taken slightly aback.
Melia was on the point of answering when her eyes fell on Saria Kokiri and Ilia Ordona not far away, laughing and pointing at her 'Princess Leia' buns. Seemingly getting the wrong idea, she responded as follows: "Laugh all you will, but the truth always comes out in the end! After all, people used to believe that there was no such thing as Telethia, and that the Fairy Tail guild disbanded a thousand years ago!"
"And they were right," Zelda pointed out. "There is no such thing as Telethia, and the Fairy Tail guild did disband a thousand years ago."
"Did they?" Melia tilted her head in disdain at Zelda. "Hm." With that, she turned and followed Peach back into the Smash Mansion.
"Oh, come on, Zelda, you got on Link for Pauline yesterday!" Mario pointed out, annoyed. "Why you gotta go and do the same thing for one of the first people this year to come out and say they believe me?"
"Because the last person you need backing you up is that airhead," Zelda crossed her arms scathingly. "She only believes in things that there's no evidence for. Not that I'd expect anything less from the daughter of the Alcamoth Times's editor. Telethia and the Fairy Tail guild, honestly..."
"Harsh," Mario raised an eyebrow. "Besides, I don't know about Telethia, but I know that the Fairy Tail guild is still around- I worked for them over the summer, they're the ones who gave me the job to investigate Freddy Fazbear's."
Zelda sighed. "Not you, too, Mario..."
"Why not?" Mario shrugged. "Why so skeptical? I mean, I could understand Link being skeptical, I mean, he grew up in this world-"
"Yo," Link smiled, flashing a peace sign as he was mentioned.
"-but you and I grew up in the muggle world, before finding out about all this smeg! Honestly, I'd believe just about anything at this point."
"There are no Telethia, and no Fairy Tail guild, and that's final!" Zelda stomped her foot.
"Then where did I get this awesome tattoo?" Mario asked, lowering his shirt enough to reveal the flaming red wing just over his heart.
"From a tattoo parlor?" Zelda speculated. "Honestly, Mario, I don't know what you're trying to pull, but-"
Before she could continue, a soft coughing drew their attention to Lucas Ikari, a young boy from Hal, standing before them, hair just as blond as ever. "Hey, Mario? I... I don't know about Melia, but I just wanted to say- I believe you too. My Dad and I have always stood by the Master Hand... and I'll stand by you, too."
"Uh... thanks," Mario blinked, not entirely sure how to react. Lucas nodded, giving a faint smile before hurrying off to his next class.
Mario was starting to detect a pattern- their next class began with Daisy going over the importance of the A.L.B.A.T.R.O.S.S. tests with them. He had a feeling that he was going to start having a seizure every time they were brought up by the end of the week. One long, hard class later, and the classes returned to the mansion to shower and commence dinner. Mario was desperate to relax, but there was no time- even after all this, he still had that detention with Fassad to worry about. He settled down with a plate of chicken, but no sooner was the first bite up to his mouth than a shout echoed across the hall. "MARIO M. MARIO!"
Mario sighed as he put the chicken down, turning and recoiling as a purple-haired tomboy appeared before him, literally carrying a stormcloud with her. "WHAT THE HECK, MAN, WHAT THE HECK?! WHAT'S THIS I HEAR ABOUT YOU BEING IN DETENTION ON FRIDAY?!"
"Friday?" Mario asked, quickly racking his brains. "What's on Fri- oh, yeah, tryouts!"
"'Bout time you remember," Kumatora fumed. "You're only the best seeker that the team's ever had, aren't you? Don't you have any designs on getting back on the team this year?"
"Hey, this wasn't my decision!" Mario pointed out, his eyebrows coming together. "I don't know how you found out, but I got that detention from Fassad for telling the truth about the Great-"
"Yeah, yeah, I heard the whole story," Kumatora waved him aside. "So, by order of the team captain, here's what you're going to do- you're going to walk up to Fassad, and you're going to convince him to let you reschedule that detention! I don't care what you have to do- barter, bargain, or tell him that the Great Darkness was an LSD-fueled hallucination if you have to, just make sure you're there, or you just might not make it on the team!"
With that, she was gone.
Mario sighed. "Aaaaand, now my place on the Smash-up team is in jeapordy."
"You think he'll let you off?" Link asked skeptically.
"Yeah, no," Mario shook his head hopelessly. "Then again, I guess there's nothing to lose in asking- worst I'll get is another crud-eating little 'nwehe'..."
XXXX
And so it came to be that Mario's heart was even heavier than he'd been expecting as he bid his comrades farewell at half-past-four that night, before setting off down the stairs of the mansion towards Fassad's office. He knocked on the door, was bidden to enter, and did so.
Mario blinked. Prior to this, the only teacher he'd never gotten to see decorate this room was King Dedede- he'd gotten remarkably familiar with the decorations of Simon Belmont, Fox Mccloud, and, most chillingly of all, Tingle Limpah. Up to this point, he'd thought that nothing would ever beat out Tingle's for sheer awfullness... well, now he'd found it.
Fassad's room was decked out largely in blue, with images of various people posted around the walls. While posters were nothing new, these posters were horribly perverted versions of those they represented- Sam and Dean Winchester, getting uncomfortably close with each other, right across from a disturbingly realistic picture of Gray Fullbuster... er... dancing with Juvia Lockser. The Doctor and the Master... urgh... he didn't even want to think about that...
It was almost a relief to turn towards Fassad himself and see the only picture behind him was that of a large banana. Sitting on his desk was a strange pink box that resembled a computer in some ways, but in others... not so much.
Fassad seemed to light up when he saw Mario enter the room. "Nwehehe... hello, Mr. Mario," he smirked under that moustache of his.
"Mr. Yokuba," Mario nodded curtly.
Fassad tilted his head. "Well, take a seat," he smirked.
Mario half nodded, taking the proposed seat in front of Fassad's desk. "Mr. Yokuba, I... I need to ask you something."
Fassad's eyes widened momentarily. "Well, asking is free, my boy."
"Yeah," Mario agreed, bracing himself. "Well, here's the thing- I aim to get onto the Smash-Up team this year- played every year before this. The thing is, the tryouts are on Friday, which kind of conflicts with our schedule, so I was wondering if we could... you know, reschedule..."
He'd known it was pointless beforehand, and his suspicions were only confirmed as Fassad burst into laughter. "Nwehehe- nwehehe- NWEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! Oh, surely you jest, Mr. Mario! Reschedule your punishment for trying to corrupt the minds of the youthful populace? Next, you'll be demanding that we release prisoners from Subspace that they might join the Olympics!"
Mario's blood was starting to rush- a simple denial would have been enough, let alone accusing him of trying to corrupt his fellow students... however, shouting him down would hardly get him anywhere, so he swallowed his anger and simply gave a vague shrug of acceptance.
"Nwehehe... he... I'll need to remember that one," Fassad chuckled for a little longer. "Ah... hehehe... anyways, Mr. Mario, your detention tonight will be a little... unique. Do you recognize the object on my desk?"
"It kind of looks like a computer," Mario shrugged.
"It is a happy box," Fassad grinned. "A device tested and guaranteed by the government to teach lessons and provide true happiness to those who watch it. So, that will be what you do tonight- simply watch the happy box until I give you clearance to leave. That's not so bad, is it?"
Mario tilted his head. "I don't follow."
"You will, Mr. Mario... you will," Fassad smirked.
Mario shrugged, and turned to gaze into the screen on the outer edge of the box. Without him or Fassad touching the box or any obvious remote controls, it flickered to life. On screen were three strange individuals sitting around a table on a set that seemed to be ripped right out of Sesame Street or Blue's Clues. Abruptly, a sketchbook on the table flipped open, revealing a face that began to sing. "What's your favorite idea? Mine is being creative!"
And so it came to be that the video jumped into a catchy song about creativity, eventually drawing in the three bizarre puppet beings sitting around the desk, starting with painting, making words out of sticks, and other things. However, as the video went on, things began to change, getting... stranger. One of the puppets, a short boy in yellow, made the word 'green' out of sticks, only for the sketchbook to shoot him down, declaring green an 'uncreative color.' The same puppet attempted to paint a clown, only for it to be declared 'wrongly creative' and destroyed with oil. Things only got weirder from there- as in, a human heart being dipped in gold glitter weird. Eventually, it all came to an end, the sketchbook deciding the best thing would be to never be creative again.
"Was I supposed to get a message from that?" Mario asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Keep watching, my boy," Fassad smirked.
Mario did so- another video began, showing the same three strange individuals sitting around a t.v. Eventually, one of them made a comment about running out of time. A clock nearby abruptly came to life- "There's always time for a song! Time is a tool you can put on the wall, or wear it on your rizd! The past is far behind, and the future doesn't exist!"
Once again, it began like the stereotypical children's show, only to take a darker turn towards the end, as something happened to the 'learners' that truly made Mario shudder internally, eventually bringing the video to an end. And before he could even turn towards Fassad, the next video had begun.
It kept going- each clip starting like your usual children's puppet show, but inevitable taking a darker turn. After the sixth clip, it simply looped back around, starting at the one with the sketchbook and proceeding down the line. Mario was starting to lose track of time- despite his initial lack of interest, and his increasing sense of unease with these clips, he couldn't tear his eyes away- it was as though his eyes were glued to the screen, forced to watch it all happen over and over and over again...
At long last, Fassad spoke up, moving the happy box aside. "How are you feeling, Mr. Mario?"
Mario blinked- how was he feeling? He honestly had no idea how to answer that. What was going on again?
His confusion must have shown on his face, because Fassad burst out laughing again. "Nwehehehe... it seems you are beginning to get the message. Very well, you may go."
Go... yeah, he'd like to go. In a daze, he stood and turned towards the door, stumbling out. It was only as he began to climb the stairs that he finally came to- what exactly had happened in there? He didn't know, but he didn't like it. He turned and sped up as he continued climbing, eventually sprinting up the stairs, not breathing easy until he was in front of Rosalina.**
XXXX
The next day, it occurred to him that, despite his ever-increasing inbox of homework, he still had yet to really get started on it. He darted down to the dining hall to grab a couple slices of toast, then rushed up to the library to throw down a few bullcrud dreams for Lucario, and write up the start of his essay for Wolf. Next stop was the mansion's attic, where he found Link waiting with bags beneath his eyes. He blinked in confusion. "What's up?"
"Not much sleep last night..." Link muttered. "Just got... not much sleep..."
"Yeah, I heard you the first time," Mario nodded, staring slightly. "Any dreams in your diary?"
"Yeah, wrote down something about not being allowed in the shoeshop until I got my boots shined," Link muttered vaguely. "Figured he'd have a tough time drawing terrible conclusions for that... how was the detention?"
Mario hesitated slightly- honestly, he had no idea what Fassad was up to with this detention plan. No point getting too worried until he had more information. "Nothing too bad," he shrugged.
It was a very evasive answer, but Link seemed too tired to notice or care. "And Friday?"
"Nothing doing," Mario shook his head, earning him a groan of sympathy.
Third bad day in a row- Lucario wasn't too bad, but his lack of practice for transformation came back to bite him when he had class with Samus again that very day, his crude, rushed sketch of a scarfy won him no points with Kjelle, both of the above added even more homework to his plate, the whole thing was with the threat of Fassad's next detention looming over his head, and if it all wasn't bad enough, Kumatora flipped when she found out he wouldn't be at tryouts, saying that his position on the team was as good as someone else's.
XXXX
As for the detention, it unsettled him even more than the last one had. With every repetition of those clips, he found himself being mesmerized further and further, lost in the songs, only to be unpleasantly jolted as the dark turn took place. He should be used to it by now, but every time, it was as though he'd never seen it before. The worst of it had to be when, during the clip about 'health,' he thought he could actually taste some of the rancid meat being shoved down one of the puppet's throats. Very faintly, but it was there. Not long after, he was finally dismissed, and rushed back upstairs.
Despite the seemingly-sedentary punishment, he found himself drained more thoroughly than Smash-Up practice had ever achieved as he arrived in the hub. However, he really needed to get through some of that homework. The thought of an angry Wolf looming over his head, he got to work on that essay, researching everything he could on Plumes of Dusk, and transcribing it all into a rather bland essay for the anthro. Not the best, but it definitely beat getting in trouble with him, too.
The next day was one of the weariest he'd ever had, and culminated once more in sitting in front of the happy box, flicking through the clips one by one, being pulled in further and further. A true shock came to him when one of the 'teachers' grew angry, screeching loud enough to cause one of the puppet's ears to bleed. Mario absentmindedly reached up to his own ears, only to feel something rather damp. Blinking, he gazed down at his hand, to see his usual white glove stained red. Suddenly snapping out of his mesmerization, he felt the sides of his head- no doubt about it, his ears were bleeding in real life, just as the puppet's were on screen.
This did not go unnoticed by Fassad, who looked up and let out another hateful 'Nwehehehe...'
"Hmm, you truly seem to be understanding the message now," he smirked. "You can leave a little early tonight."
Many years ago, Mario had been surprised to find someone he hated more than Bill Smith, in the form of Bowser Dragmire. As he marched back to the Nintendo hub, he realized it had happened again- he had finally found a teacher he hated more than Wolf O'Donnell. The realization of just what that happy box was doing to him sent him into quiet fits of fury. He was on the verge of kicking the nearest wall when a rush of green blurred the edges of his vision. "Huh- Link?"
"Link's not here!" came a voice from behind a nearby statue. "Pay no attention to that boy behind the statue!"
"Link, come out, I know it's you," Mario crossed his arms, tapping his foot impatiently.
Slowly, Link stepped out from behind the statue. "Hey, Mario," he smiled, chuckling nervously. "Fancy seeing you here. You know, you're usually in bed by now..."
"So you've been out here before?" Mario asked, raising an eyebrow.
Link softly cursed himself. "No, of course not!" he quickly backtracked. "I was just saying, you know, that I... you see..."
"Link, what's going on?" Mario cut off his rambling.
Link stood there, looking paralyzed, for a second more before seemingly breaking down. "Alright, I'll tell you," he muttered, fixing his gaze on his boots. "I've been... practicing. I mean, I've got a halfway decent kart now, right? Thought I might as well put it to good use- I've been practicing down on the field for the tryouts tomorrow, thought I'd see if I could make it onto the team's defense."
"Don't know why you thought I'd laugh," Mario raised his eyebrows. "That's a great idea! It'd be great if you made it! Any good?"
"Decent," Link shrugged awkwardly, showing that normal human aversion to speaking well of himself. "I always took the defense when I played with Midna and the puffballs." Link groaned. "Oh, the puffballs... what are Kirby and Meta going to say? They're going to be at the tryouts, there's no way they won't be..."
"I just wish I could be there," Mario muttered bitterly.
"Yeah, I wish that- Mario, you're bleeding!"
"Huh?" Mario asked, before wincing in remembrance. "It's nothing- just a scratch!"
"In your eardrums?!" Link asked, horrified. "What is that Fassad bastard doing to you?! You said it wasn't that bad!"
Mario hesitated momentarily. He didn't want his friend to worry, but on the other hand, Link had been honest with him, so... "It wasn't, at first," he admitted heavily.
And so it came to be that he told the whole story to Link, whose teapot whistle grew louder and louder as the narrative continued. "That miserable pile of goron crud!" he cursed. "That sick, sick boo-f***ing stalfo! You can't let him get away with this- go to Samus!"
"I can't," Mario shook his head. "If I do that, he'll win."
"This isn't a matter of winning or losing!" Link objected. "At this point, it's a matter of good vs. evil! Samus would flip her smeg if she knew about this!"
"But how much power does Samus really have to stop him?"
Link looked taken aback. "Then... the Master Hand! If anyone can step in, he can!"
"Not gonna happen," Mario shook his head. "He's got enough on his plate without me adding on."
Before Link could object, he turned and moved off.
XXXX
This, hands down, was the worst first week at the Smash Mansion Mario had ever experienced. The only thing that even came close was back in his second year, when he'd spent the first week under ridicule for crashing a flying phone box into the flaaghra. At least then, he'd known it would blow over eventually- this time around, the only faint ray of light in the tunnel was the knowledge that this was his last detention, after which it would be the weekend- a weekend that would likely be spent mostly on playing homework catch-up, but at this point, he was desperate for even a faint, flickering candle.
Sure enough, there sat the happy box, and there sat Fassad. The vague thought had crossed his mind that he might be able to catch a glimpse of what was going on at the tryouts through the window, but this hope was extinguished as the happy box fired up and drew his full attention towards it.
He could feel the glitter-covered heart in his hand.
He could feel the flesh rotting away from his bones.
He was being buried in gravel and drowned in oil.
He felt his head exploding.
His chest was surgically cut open, as he was force-fed gray, rancid pudding.
By the time he resurfaced again, it was already dark, and it felt like he'd spent the whole time with his head underwater. There was blood flowing from his ears again, blood on his hands, he could still smell the oil he'd been forced into, and, overall, he really wasn't feeling well.
He looked over at Fassad, grinning. "Have you gotten the message yet?"
As he spoke, Mario felt a sudden bolt of pain across his scar. His eyes widened as he stared back.
"Yes, I'd imagine it causes a bit of pain," Fassad laughed, eyes raking over the blood. "Well, dismissed."
Mario felt his bones go cold. Pain, huh? Did Fassad simply mean the pain of his ears feeling like they'd been punctured, his head had been repeatedly exploded, and he'd been crushed under a truckload of gravel? Or did he mean something even more sinister than that? Did Fassad, on some level or another, know about the pain that had just coursed through his scar?
He made a quick trip to the bathroom to wash himself off and make himself a bit more presentable, then climbed up to Rosalina, to whom he delivered the password.
A roar of sound rushed out as Rosalina opened up, riotous cheers and loud dance music.
Link greeted him, pulling him in happily as he swung a can of Mountain Dew around. "I did it! Mario, I can't believe it, I actually did it! I'm the Nintendo team's defense!"
"Huh?" Mario asked, his brain taking a second to catch up with the rest of his body. "Oh- oh! Good, great, awesome, outstanding, amazing!"
Link blushed, and offered the retort that usually came from Mario's mouth- "All I did was press A. Any idea where Zelda is?"
"Over by the fire," called a passing Kirby, taking the head of a conga line.
"It was a great trial!" Paula Polestar called, fast-dancing with Ness Levi. "He tore that other competition up!"
"Well, that might be a bit of an overstatement," came a soft voice, drawing Mario's attention to Kumatora. Link had already left, joining Kirby's conga line, leaving him and Kumatora free to talk.
"So... who's the new seeker?" Mario asked hopelessly.
"Honestly, you," Kumatora smiled weakly. "You didn't try out, but you still did better than any of the other idiots who turned up. Unless you took some severe brain damage this summer, and forgot everything you know about karts, you've got the spot. You'd better say yes- you don't want to put us all in a bind, do you?"
Mario laughed inwardly- this was the closest he'd imagine Kumatora ever came to outright saying 'I'm sorry.' "Yeah, I gladly accept," he smiled good-naturedly, trying to communicate that all was forgiven.
"Maybe I shouldn't have been...quite as sharp as I was earlier," Kumatora half-shrugged. "But it's really stressful, you know?"
"Kumatora- Captain- it's alright."
Kumatora shook her head. "Whatever. Now, about Link- like I said, destroying the competition was a bit of an overstatement. He actually came in third, not first- but of the other two, one was a control freak- never happy unless she was the one barking orders. As for the other one, he was in a band- came right out and admitted that if it came to a conflict between the team and his band, he'd take his band. So, Link was the best... that would keep loyal to the team and that I could actually stand to work with. What I'm trying to say is... try to help him out, a'ight?"
"Of course," Mario nodded. Kumatora smiled and crossed the room to join the conga line.
Mario, meanwhile, took a seat beside Zelda, snoring on her laptop. "Still alive down there?" he wondered out loud.
Zelda jerked, and slowly raised her head, revealing a pattern of keys on her face. "Huh? Oh, hi, Mario. I've been up late, working on some more poems for the yoshis. They seem to be pretty popular!"
Mario had his doubts about that, but that wasn't what was on his mind at the moment. He was currently worried about the earlier incident with Fassad. He related the story of his scar to her- he had to tell someone, and he couldn't bring himself to worry Link when he was as happy as he was.
Zelda listened closely. "So... you think it's something like Mewtwo? The Great Darkness is somehow controlling him?"
"Is it possible?"
"Well... not as directly as with Mewtwo, not now that he's got his own body. I guess he could be mind controlling him more indirectly, but I'm not sure that would be enough to set off your scar... didn't the Master Hand say something about it also going off when the Great Darkness is feeling heavy emotion? Maybe it's just a coincidence."
"I don't know, the guy's definitely evil," Mario pointed out.
"Yeah, no denying that," Zelda agreed. "But the starmen don't have a monopoly on evil, either. Either way, I think you should go to the Master Hand about this."
Mario shook his head, just as he had for Link. "Not gonna happen. He's too busy."
"Mario, this is the kind of thing I think he'd want distracting him."
"Yeah, I know," Mario muttered coldly. "As long as my scar's acting as a smoke alarm, he needs me, but as soon as it quiets down, back to Peach Creek for me, right?"
"Mario, that's not-" Zelda started, but Mario cut her off.
"If I ask anyone, it's going to be Strider."
Zelda put her foot down. "Mario, that's not the kind of thing you can write about! Remember what Simon said? What if the government or starmen found out about it?"
"Whatever you say," Mario threw up his hands in defeat. "Alright, well, I'm beat, I think I'll go to bed."
"Yeah, not a bad idea," Zelda agreed. "Hey, Mario, before that... what say you help me out with a few of the next poems? I know the ones I was writing weren't exactly Poe, but I've been getting better, I'm sure I can help you, too!"
"Well, honestly, I would, Zelda, but the fact is... I don't want to." Mario would normally have tried to be less blunt about it, but he didn't have the energy right now to be tactful. "That and I have too much homework right now... night."
He felt a pang of guilt at the look on Zelda's face, but he was exhausted- so exhausted that, heedless of the noise from the party below, he was out like a light the moment his head made contact with his pillow.
XXXX
*Calling out to a story that I just noticed in my inbox today- yeah, I've been away from the computer for a while- SpiderShadow's Master Hand's Big Book O'Rules. Had me laughing from start to finish- highly recommended.
** Two call-outs here- first to ProdigyGaming, who pointed out that happy boxes were an obvious thing to include in Fassad's torture- er, punishment- sessions, and also to Youtube viral series, Don't Hug Me, I'm Scared, a rather dark satire on the stereotypical morning children's puppet show. It's bizarre and off-the-wall, but also rather interesting, and considering it's only six episodes long, none of which exceeds ten minutes in length, definitely worth a watch. Just one quick warning- as this chapter probably indicates, there are healthy doses of nightmare fuel, so approach with caution.
And... done! Just under a month- better than last time! Keep following the pattern, and the next chapter will be up in two weeks! Of course, I think we can do better- after this rather dark chapter, I think we'll lighten things up next time with a random quicky! Until then, my birthday's tomorrow, so if you want to get me the perfect present, I have but one thing to say- please R&R, constructive criticism embraced, flames, not so much, Gamer4 out!