Olimar's Entry

[ZonictheHedgehog]

Olimar padded along the dirt road, his Pikmin bobbing along after him. Overhead, giant flowers were blossoming in the Awakening Wood, and he heard some of the giant, vibrantly colored birds singing. He’d seen what looked like a large white glove the other day, but sunset was almost upon him and he was forced to go back. Today, though, he’d told Louie to simply collect purple berries for bitter sprays and he would take a few Pikmin to salvage the treasure. He’d taken along one of each type of Pikmin plus another purple, in case the glove was heavy. It looked like it probably wasn’t, but he hated having to go back for additional Pikmin just because he was a couple short.

He rounded the corner and found the glove: huge, white, pristine, and beautiful. He advanced forward cautiously, searching for any sign of creature that might have laid claim to the glove before he had. Finding his surroundings empty (even of the telltale eyes of a Creeping Chrysanthemum), he ambled over to the glove and ordered the Pikmin around it. They quickly hefted it and began carrying it along, but Olimar sensed confusion emanating from them. Curiously, he laid a hand on the giant mass of cloth.

Suddenly, the glove, like a giant awakening from a deep sleep, shook off the Pikmin carrying it and rose into the air. It stretched itself out, then turned to face a surprised, but quickly recovering Olimar. He blew his whistle over the fallen Pikmin, which quickly got up and scrambled over to him. He fingered the bottles of Spicy and Bitter sprays he had brought with him, his mind racing furiously. He decided to freeze the monstrous hand with Bitter spray, then run and get more reinforcements from the Onions. Since it could fly, he decided Yellow Pikmin would be his best bet; they could be thrown higher. He prepared to petrify the hand, but it didn’t seem eager to eat his Pikmin. Instead, it went straight for Olimar, pinning his hands to his sides. Then, after a moment’s consideration, it snatched up the six Pikmin he brought with him and started flying away with its captives. Olimar edged over to the frightened Pikmin and wrapped them all in his arms, trying to be a source of comfort to the terrified creatures.

Together, inside the monstrous glove’s grip, they flew over the strange alien landscape.

Olimar realized that he must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew was that he was in an extremely comfortable limousine. He wondered vaguely whether he was still asleep and only dreaming of owning a limo back on Hocotate, but he felt the small bodies of the Pikmin leaning against him (still asleep) and decided that he was probably awake. He screwed up his eyes and came to the conclusion that he was either quite insane, or that he was a passenger in a limousine driven by the titanic glove. Still half-asleep, he thought to himself that he’d crossed the gap into insanity ever since he landed on that bizarre, yet not unfriendly planet. He stretched his arms out and yawned, and the Pikmin dozing next to him were suddenly wide awake and watching him intensely. Obviously, they had to be able to awaken at a moment’s notice when he called them out of their comfortable Onions early in the morning to do this or that, and he smiled ruefully at how he’d treated them. He casually glanced out the window and was wide-awake.

He was racing along a highway next to a group of streamlined cars that appeared to be floating three feet off the track. And scarier was that the mountains, trees, and water in the distance were all upside down. Either that or his car was upside down and was going so fast that he didn’t notice it. He decided to not think about it and simply stared straight ahead, but couldn’t help himself from peeking out the window every now and then out of morbid curiosity.

Presently they abandoned their racetrack/highway and were now hurtling along a large field. When Olimar looked out his window again, he thought he saw the outline of a towering castle encased in a strange golden diamond covered with black markings. Not breaking from their surroundings, they raced across a white bridge, and he looked up to see what appeared to be a black square with odd blue markings on it. Then he almost had a heart attack: they just crossed a massive gap in the bridge that seemed to simply appear from nowhere. But they made it through, and when Olimar had the courage to look outside again, he saw that they were speeding along a pleasant green highway. For some reason, there were large golden rings just hovering in the air, rotating slowly, and the rolling hills were only covered with grass until the sides, which were plain dirt. He decided to put everything out of his mind, close his eyes, and think about home.

His last thought was of how much he’d be able to tell his wife when he finally went home.
He woke up to the sound of a crowd cheering. As he looked out the window, he was shocked to find that his limo was pulling up to a red carpet that led to prestigious-looking building surrounded by forest and grassy hills. The words SUPER SMASH BROTHERS marked the entrance, and were accompanied by a symbol of a circle with an off-center cross in the lower left hand side of the circle. The carpet was flanked by a crowd of people, some cheering wildly, others with fierce looks in their eyes. He heard movement ahead of him and saw the white glove open the door, get out of the driver’s seat, walk around to Olimar’s door, and open it.

Suddenly, every eye was on Olimar.

He carefully climbed out of the seat, trying to ignore the thousands of eyes on him. The Pikmin hopped out after him. He brushed himself off, then summoned the courage to look at the crowd.

They were soundless.

Blushing angrily, he began to walk down the crimson aisle, the Pikmin bobbing along after him like they were on yet another treasure hunt. The crowd remained silent, as if waiting for something.

Then someone, bless their heart, let out a whoop and started clapping. The effect was immediate: the entire crowd responded with such enthusiasm that Olimar was almost knocked off his feet. Empowered by the storm of clapping, Olimar boldly headed down the carpet to the elegant glass doors, which slid back smoothly to permit entry.

He didn’t see the tall, catlike creature in the back of the crowd that nearly sniped him with a ball of shadow energy. Fortunately, the reinforced glass doors sealed just in time and Mewtwo, cursing under his breath, teleported away before anyone could figure out what had happened.

**********

This is my first fanfic, so constructive criticism is welcomed as long as it's positive. I'll probably have the next chapter in a few days, but right now I'd like y'all to tell me what you think.

 

[ZonictheHedgehog]

Umm... any chance that someone could reply? I've been waiting for some time now...
But anyway, here's the second chapter.

*****

As Olimar entered the building, he felt a crisp coolness on his face from air conditioning, a welcome change from outside. The glass doors slid smoothly behind him, and suddenly the noise of the crowd was muted. He heard something thud against the door, but he was far too interested in the place he was in to notice it.

In front of him was a huge foyer with a roaring fireplace on his left and a lounge on the right. Twin staircases covered in a soft carpet with polished mahogany banisters curved smoothly up to the floor above. He was standing on a plush velvet rug with the same odd crossed circle logo.

Olimar walked over to the lounge area, feeling timid – this was far too grand a place for him to be permitted, he was sure. He sat in a large, squashy armchair and examined a peculiar chess set: its pieces made no sense to him at all. In place of a king on one side, there was a chubby, mustached man wearing a cap emblazoned with an M. The king on the other side was similar, only he was slightly taller and his cap had an L instead.

All of the pieces were peculiar in this way. The bishops of the L man’s side looked like stout warriors with swords drawn. Olimar picked up one and saw that it had pointed ears. There was a knight that looked like a humanoid fox. The rooks of one side were surly-looking apes, the other side instead featured heavily muscled men with falcons decorating their helmets. One side’s pawns were curious round blobs, the other’s were small, cute rodents with jagged tails and large ears. The queens made absolutely no sense at all: one looked like a robot with particularly large cannon on one arm, the other looked like one of the blobs except with ears, a little curl on its head and a small crown. To finish it all off, the bishops of the M man’s side looked like Olimar’s son with smaller noses and baseball caps, and the knights of the L guy’s side were comical-looking dinosaurs. The two sides were divided not by white and black, but red and green.

Olimar had just put the delicately carved figurines down when he heard footsteps behind him, so he turned around.

He was face-to-face with one of the most voluptuous women he had ever seen. Her entire figure smacked him over the head like a brick, and it was not helped by the skintight blue suit she was wearing. He was vaguely aware that she was talking to him.

“Welcome to Super Smash Brothers, Olimar. You’re probably pretty confused were you are and why you are here, but don’t worry. We’ll just let you get settled in. Why don’t I show you to your room? You’re probably pretty tired. Follow me, please.”

She led Olimar and the Pikmin he brought with him up one of the curved staircases and took him down a grand hallway. When they had arrived at the last doorway, she motioned for him to stand back. He watched her touch something on the back of her hand, and gasped as a flash of light engulfed her.

When the dust had settled, he looked again, this time to see the robot that had been a chess queen downstairs start punching numbers on the side of the door. The door clanked and whirred for a minute, then a squelching noise and the door opened to reveal a second door. This door had a huge Biohazard sign on it, and Olimar felt uneasy. But the robot urged him in, and he felt that he had no choice but to follow it into the closet-sized gap between the doors.

Before he did, though, it started frantically pointing to the Pikmin behind him and then to a sort of chute next to the door. Olimar got the message and put his Pikmin next to the chute and pushed a button right above it. After all the Pikmin were sucked through the chute, the robot seemed satisfied. It opened the Biohazard door and Olimar followed the robot in.

The room here was huge, with a large and comfortable-looking bed, a desk with a lamp, an ebony wardrobe, and a funny-looking device in next to the door that looked like a small water tower. There was door that led, Olimar guessed, to a bathroom. The robot was looking at him and making a motion with its hand that he should turn on his radio. He did so.

“Can you hear me?” said the radio. Olimar realized that it must be coming from the robot. And the robot’s voice sounded o much like the woman earlier that Olimar realized that it wasn’t a robot, but a space suit like his… and with firepower. Clearly the woman had put this on just before entering the room because of the biohazard. But if that was the case, than he had better be careful of whatever was in there. Perhaps the water tower device…?

“Can you hear me?” the woman asked again. Olimar snapped awake and nodded his head.

“It’s all right if you want to take off your suit, by the way. This room is filled with the same type of atmosphere as Hocotate. That’s why there was a biohazard sign on the door we just went through – because to Earth-dwellers, your atmosphere is toxic.”

She pointed at the water tower. “This is where your Pikmin sleep: the chute on the wall leads into it. White Pikmin will be able to come in here, but any others would be poisoned by your atmosphere. Remember to put on your space suit again if you want to leave this room. There’s a warning message on the second airlock door."

"There,” she paused for a minute, looking around, “I think that’s everything. Get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.” Olimar saw a smile from under the visor as she entered the airlock and sealed the door behind her.

Finally, he was alone.

He tested to see if the room was as the woman had said and found that it indeed had the same gases in the air as his beloved home planet. He gratefully took off the helmet and the rest of the suit and clambered onto the bed in the same clothes that he had worn a month ago when he went off on his extraordinary vacation.

He stared up at the ceiling, thinking about his life thus far. Here was a forty-eight year old man who lived an average life with his wife and kids. And then, one month later, he was an intergalactic celebrity. It made his head hurt thinking about it, so he emptied his mind and fell asleep.

**********

Again, I would really appreciate it if someone would just do a quick reply to say "It's great, keep going" or "I thought such-and-such could have been done better" or "Hey, I've got a great idea, you should (enter great idea here)." Don't say something like, "OMG LMFAO wat a n00bsta, u shoud jus thro ur SUXX0RZ crap in2 the toilet i mean wtf wat a n00b!!!!!!1!!1!11!!". I'll keep writing, but criticism is begged for. ;-)

 

[Zap657]

Good job, I like how you explained why he can only have 6 Pikmin with him at a time. Though why he was greeted by Samus is beyond me.

Can't wait for the next part.

 

[ZonictheHedgehog]

Thanks. Here's the next part. Sorry that it's a bit late, but it's also pretty long.

**********
Olimar woke up to the birds singing, and for a second thought he was home on Hocotate. Then he thought he was dreaming that he thought he was on Hocotate. Then he remembered where he was.

He didn’t get up immediately, though, instead he just lay in bed listening to the birds sing and staring up at the ceiling. Eventually he got up and started inspecting the room. He peered into the bathroom and was shocked to see that it was almost the size of his living room at home. Everything shone, and he decided to take a bath, which he had been missing out on for a month.

After dozing in the scalding heat for an hour, he found that someone had decided to leave him fresh, new clothes, which he put on gratefully. He put on his suit, entered the airlock, and entered the hallway. There was no one there, so he decided to take his own tour of the hotel. He saw that his own name had been written in gold lettering above the doorway of his room. There was a door in front of him, but it was locked and bore the inscription, “Secret characters”.

He began his way down the hallway. The door next to him was a grand old oak doorway with a gold handle and over it he saw that his neighbor’s name was “King Dedede”. Odd name, he thought. Suddenly, the door opened and a cute, short red creature not unlike a dwarf bulborb stared out at him soundlessly. It quickly closed the door and disappeared from view.

He kept going down. Lucas (whose door looked very much like a normal house’s)… Meta Knight (A strange, dark, misty veil seemed to cover the place where the door should be)… Diddy Kong (A bamboo frame with strings of rice forming a curtain)… Pokémon Trainer…

With this last (A pretty normal door, by any standard) he saw large blue turtle come waddling out of a small door to the side. It smiled at him, piped “Squirtle!” and then went back in.

After spending some time trying to convince himself that he was not going insane, Olimar decided that maybe he was and that it really wasn’t so bad after all. He saw that after the first three doors, there was a staircase following them, so he kept going. There was Ike (A stone frame with an old oak door that appeared to have been slashed and hacked at, torches burning on both sides), Wario, (Wario’s door was by far the creepiest. It looked like the entrance to a haunted circus and had the image of a clown in a motorcycle helmet), and Pit (A metal framed, mirrored door that emanated its own light). Warily, Olimar walked up the stairs that were marked, “To Melee Characters”.

When he got up there, he found it rather small compared to the large hallway that he had just left. There were only five doors, four of which looked like doors into living spaces, the fifth also marked with a sign that said, “Secret characters”.

Bowser, Peach, Zelda, and Ice Climbers marked the other four doors. The one belonging to Bowser looked like a cave and seemed to radiate a burning heat. The Ice climbers, as if to counter this, seemed to absorb heat from the air. Peach’s door was pink, a bright, hot fuchsia that drew the eyes and made them water. Zelda’s was like the entrance to an ancient temple in a sacred forest, with a doorframe cut of polished marble and a large, regal door with a symbol on it – three triangles that stacked to form a larger triangle. The doorframe had ivy crawling down the white stone bricks and it seemed to radiate a liquid serenity. Olimar lingered over Zelda’s for a moment before he tried the door marked “Secret characters” and found to his surprise that it opened. He went in.

This hallway was very long. The first door he came to looked abandoned. The lettering overhead said “Young Link”, but it seemed as if Young Link hadn’t been there for some time. The door was ajar, so Olimar poked his head in.

The carpet was thick with dust, and boxes were stacked in a corner. Other than that, the room was completely empty. Not willing to get too close, he moved on to the next one.

This one, which belonged to a guy named “Marth”, was clearly inhabited. Stone statues guarded the entrance, and it all looked like the entrance to a castle.

The next one was just as medieval, but it gave Olimar a curious sense of dread. The cast iron, spiked word “Ganondorf” headed the dark door, and Olimar thought he felt someone watching him. He hurried on to the next room, but that was just as deserted as the first door in the hallway. The faded lettering above the doorway read “Dr. Mario”, but someone had graffitied out the “Dr.” part so it just read “Mario”. A bit perplexed, Olimar went to the next door.

This looked kind of like Marth’s room, but one statue was missing a head and the other was missing its legs. The whole doorway was a set of crumbling ruins. Over it read, “Roy”.

The next door was a bit of a breather for Olimar. Instead of medieval castles, this was a sleek white metal door with a red light over it that spelled the word “Falco”. He decided that it was clearly not abandoned and moved on to the next door, which said “Pichu”. The door was ajar, but no light shone out He looked inside.

Spread out before him was a dark field with a black forest at the back. Rotten apples littered the ground. The sky – wait, ceiling, but a ceiling that looked like the sky – was covered in dark clouds. Apparently, Pichu had also been forced to leave. Olimar shuddered, then pulled his head out and kept walking until he came across a black, ruined door that somehow exuded a cold darkness. The chilling word Mewtwo stared down at him like a gargoyle. It also was abandoned, judging by the door that was ajar, but Olimar did not want to enter in order to find out. He reached the last door in the hallway, and decided that he clearly had gone insane.

It wasn’t a doorway at all. It was a giant computer screen that showed the entire “room” in a liquid crystal style, the same kind of videogames that Olimar remembered he used to own. A slot on one side indicated where whatever bizarre character “Mr. Game & Watch” entered. It was apparently still in use, he decided, and for a two-dimensional person it would probably be quite cozy. But the problem was, nobody could possibly be in two dimensions. It didn’t make sense. Olimar decided that it probably wasn’t worth his time, so he went on up the stairs marked “To Original Characters”.

Looking out the window, he saw that this was the last floor. There was a spectacular view from up here, leading out into forests, fields, a lake, and grassy hills. This hall was the grandest of all, with walls lined with gold and silk curtains on the windows.

The very first door had bold golden mushrooms around it, and on the door was a star with two curious eyes. Above it was the word “Mario”, but something about the word looked familiar. The childish, uneven style, vivid colors, what could it–?

And then he remembered, in stunning clarity, a massive tube of blue paint which the ship was complaining about because of the color. He’d seen the word countless times when viewing his treasure hoard and it had never had much meaning. So this was the place where this “Mario” lived. He wondered how he would be received by such a grand, impressive figure.

The next door looked a bit like Falco’s door, but it was gold plated with a symbol that resembled a fox wearing a cape on it. It was simply marked “Fox”. After that was a gold-plated – heck, everything here seemed gold-plated – but otherwise simple door that said “Pikachu”. Sunlight seemed to stream out from the crack under the door and through the keyhole. He kneeled and looked through as best he could with his bulky helmet in the way.

It was a vast meadow, with a small wood in the back and a cheerful creek bubbling through it. It was almost scarily familiar, before he realized that this was what Pichu’s room was meant to look like. He wondered who Pikachu could be, having a field rather than a normal room.

He withdrew his gaze from the serene calm of that room and heard a loud squeal behind him. He turned and saw a large yellow and black mouse with red cheeks and massive ears glaring at him. Something stirred in his memory, and he realized that it was identical to the small, cute chess pieces downstairs. He timidly raised his hand to pet it, then jerked back when sparks started issuing from its cheeks.

The creature seemed to sense his fear of it, softened its gaze, then ambled forward and nudged his hand. Confused, he started to pet it again, and this time it closed its eyes and enjoyed it. When he stopped, it looked back up at him, said “Pika!,” and entered the meadow through a side door just big enough for it. What strange creatures infest these lands, thought Olimar, as he walked over to the next door, “Samus”, a large mechanical vault-style gate that had no discernable handle, but an eye-scanner right next to it. He wondered what this Samus person was so afraid of that he would have such a fortified room.

The next room’s doorway was very ornately carved of a very fine wood. It was covered with lush green vines that formed a curtain over the old, strong-looking wooden door. The bronze nameplate read “Link”. Wooden torches burned on either side, and if Olimar could smell it, he would be able to tell that spices were being burned to create a powerful aroma. The same symbol was on Link’s door as was on Zelda’s and Ganondorf’s, he noticed: three triangles stacked in a pyramid to create a bigger triangle. They were probably all from the same region, he decided.

Some guy with the name of “Donkey Kong” inhabited another room with a wooden door with torches at either side, but this door was covered with palm leaves and the frame was bamboo. Humid heat emanated from this room, as well as a sunset-orange light coming through the bottom and between cracks in the door.

“Kirby” was certainly an odd fellow, Olimar thought. His room’s doorway was made up of clouds. Everywhere he looked on the door, he saw large, wide, rounded stars shining like neon lights. Oddly enough, though the door was cloud, it had a regular-looking door handle. He or she was obviously smitten with stars, clouds, and rainbows. The next door was almost identical, except instead of stars it used eggs. Big, white eggs with colorful dots everywhere. Good grief, even the doorknob was an egg. This room, apparently, belonged to Yoshi. Hey, maybe they’re related, thought Olimar.

He reached the door where the secrets were held, held his breath, and pushed it open.

There was pretty much no difference between the hallways. It just continued on to provide access to four more doors. One looked very much like Mario’s door, but it was liberally covered in large emeralds and the letter ‘L’. This looked to be the living space of the ‘L’ king in the chess set. Apparently, “Luigi” was very earnest to be different from his counterpart.

Another meadow-room was there, which belonged to “Jigglypuff”. The third was a golden town house that resembled Lucas’ door. The sign read “Ness”.

And the last door was wide open. Booming music threatened to shatter Olimar’s helmet. He insulated it more against sound and cautiously surveyed the door.

Falcon wings flanked it on either side, and the image of a falcon was covering most of the door. He peeked inside and saw falcons on the rug, bedspread, lamp, and pretty much everything else.

But he didn’t have much time to think about this because the next thing he knew was that he was in a death choke with one evidently well-muscled inhabitant. He saw the outline of another person approaching and feebly stirred against his attacker’s iron grip, but the man’s arms were crushing him… if only he could reach the bitter spray…

“Snake, put ‘im down!”

Olimar realized that he had been released and quickly stood up (how had he even gotten on the floor?). He saw two men looking down at him, one – his captor, he was sure – still glaring at him. The second’s eyes were hidden by a visor, but he was looking down with concern.

This one had falcons covering his entire suit, and Olimar guessed that he must be the owner of the room. The other wore a headband, camouflage, and a full military suit, even with a line of grenades at his waist. Olimar coughed slightly, remembering the speed and ferocity of those crushing arms.

“Falcon, I’ve told you a million times – we can’t be too careful,” said the one called Snake. “You know about the characters that were forced out just as well as I do. I was almost shot with a burning arrow when I came in for the first time.”

“Snake, I was in Smash since the start. And I don’t hole up in my room talking to the people I left behind. I’ve never seen this guy before, I saw him go in, and he was almost sniped by Mewtwo. By the way,” said the falcon man, “What’s your name?”

But before Olimar could reply, he heard a frenzy of clicks, beeps and whistles and Falcon was knocked down by some invisible force. Falcon gave a shout and punched forward and Olimar saw something black fly past his shoulder, slam into the wall and sink to the floor like a very solid shadow.

“GW, calm down, will ya? I can’t understand a word you’re saying!” roared Falcon as he ran over to the wall and stood over the shape.

Snake, who by know was reclining against the wall, looked up and started whistling in the same tones as the shape. The shape seemed to stand up and it took the form of a short man who looked eerily similar to Olimar’s shadow. It let off some frustrated-sounding beeps and gestured wildly at the stereo, which had been blasting with heavy metal the whole time.

“GW says that you gotta turn down the stereo, he can’t stand the noise,” translated Snake.

“Whaaaat? But he lives in a videogame, how the hell would he be able to hear it?” screamed Falcon, and Snake translated to the shadow. The shadow took the appearance of pulling out hair and then, from nowhere, summoned up the shape of a huge mallet and started whacking itself on the head with it.

“GW says it ain’t the sound, it’s the vibrations that play hell with you when you’re trying to relax in a two-dimensional world. And I’ve been telling you that you gotta turn it down for AGES. I’m sure our other friend will agree.” He gestured toward Olimar, who nodded fervently.

“Fine,” grumbled Falcon, and he went over to the stereo and turned it to a marginally more bearable volume.

“Better?” he asked GW, who seemed to be sulking. GW irritably held up a sign with the digital number 2.

“Well, maybe you should lodge a complaint with the owners if you hate it so much. This is my room and I do what I want with it. Unless you’d like a Brawl over it…?”

Snake paused, then translated. GW jumped up and held up a sign that said 9. Snake’s eyes flashed between the two. “Brawl isn’t out yet, so I think you’d better Melee for it if you want it done with sooner.” he quietly mentioned, and then he repeated the message for GW.

GW held up a 1 and went back to sulking. “Aaaaaaaaahh… right… you’re Melee moveset isn’t as good as the one for Brawl, now is it? Don't translate that,” he interjected hurriedly to Snake, "I don’t want to fight him in this room. He can still use his Brawl moveset in here.”

Olimar, meanwhile, was quietly headed for the door. From what he had understood, this club was intended for fighters, which he definitely was not. He was a middle-aged, married father with a good job (until it had fallen into debt, he remembered with a pang of regret), and he was certainly not going to start whipping people around who would have been able to kill him so easily. His throat still hurt from Snake’s choking grip. He had to get himself out, somehow signal to the ship, and get away from this hellish planet, and back onto the safety of Hocotate.

But it was hopeless, how could he get through such a distance in such a short time? No Onions existed for a thousand miles, he was certain, and his life-support systems wouldn’t last him the thirty days he’d survived last time. It was like the first time he’d landed… but this time, there were no ship parts, no thirty days of luxury, and no Onions to supply his indispensible allies. Just the six who slept comfortably in their artificial Onion. Good Lord, he thought, the fiends! They might’ve killed them all – poison, drowning, burning, electrocuting, crushing… the Pikmin were tough, but the Onion had always provided shelter when they were sleeping. They would now have no defense against whatever these people brought upon them. He may well be alone. Alone in a gilded cage, which was just about to fall onto a wresting ring and pit him against these savage warriors. Finding himself at the door, he took a good look around. No one was watching him. If he was to escape, it was now or never…

He ran. Ran down the hall, flew down the banister, and just kept running… It’s amazing, he thought, how I never seem to get tired.

But he looked behind him and saw Falcon charging at him at an impossible speed. He jumped as high as he could – which, if he had been paying attention, would have been pretty darn high – and desperately blew his whistle.

The Pikmin came. The red, the yellow, the blue, the white, and the two purples all flew from their abode and straight to their master and protector, ready to defend him at any cost. Falcon jumped too, but as he became level with Olimar he received a face full of electrical sparks emanating from the yellow Pikmin as it was swung hard by the flower on its head.

Recovering quickly, Falcon tried to grab Olimar and launch him with a Falcon Dive, but Olimar nimbly dodged the attack and sent a purple Pikmin flying into his gut. Falcon collapsed, gasping for air, as Olimar hurtled his Red Pikmin down as he landed.

Crying out in pain as the Pikmin’s scorching body burnt his back, Falcon quickly got up just in time to be grabbed by the white Pikmin. He felt himself grow weak as the Pikmin injected its rootlike limbs into him and poison coursed through his veins. He shook it off and slid forward in a Falcon Kick, but Olimar had seen through it and leapt over him again, hurtling a blue Pikmin with his newfound might. Landing on Captain Falcon’s face, it began smacking him around with the hard round bulb on its head, stunning him until he finally grabbed it and punched it away. Remarkably, the Pikmin survived, but it was stunned for the moment.

He was exhausted, and mad too – getting beaten, as it was, by the newbie – and prepared a devastating Falcon Punch to permanently send Olimar to the trophy case. He spun around, arm reaching back, gaining power. Olimar had used all of his creatures and was cornered now, between Falcon and the balcony, and clearly had no idea what was coming to him. He relished this moment like all the other times that he had won a battle by his powerful fist and the Falcon energy that boiled inside him.

But Olimar had not used all of his creatures. In slow motion, it seemed, Olimar snatched his remaining Purple and hurtled it with the last of his strength at Captain Falcon.

It soared, eyes blazing with determination…

Past the tightly packed fist that would be Olimar’s doom…

Closer and closer…

And smacked Falcon square in the chest.

Falcon heard a roar as he was blasted into the wall (which held, being designed to hold such things), ricocheted off and flew onto the floor of the lobby, directly on the cross of the Smash Bros. rug. There was a huge flash of light, and on the spot where Captain Falcon lay was a brilliant, polished trophy of the racer.

After a while, a dazed Captain Olimar called to his dazed Pikmin and did what any sensible person in his position would do.

He ran.

*****
Questions and comments, as always, appreciated.

 

[ZonictheHedgehog]

Okay, you know what? I'm going to keep writing this, even if nobody comments, simply because I like to write and I've got some good ideas in my head for this.

**********
It was dark. He’d meant to return to the cave before sunset, but this time he had valuable information that might be of use to the team. He whistled softly, and Pichu’s round head popped out of the hidden entrance. He had been cute, once, when he was in Melee. Now a permanent, weary anger shone from his eyes whenever he looked at something. He called out “Pi-chu!” and disappeared, opening the entrance just wide enough for Roy to crawl through.

When Roy reached the main chamber, he saw Young Link lying in his hammock, sword in hand, asleep. Dr Mario was nodding off in front of his desk full of notes, papers, photos, and spreadsheets – everything they had amassed so far. Mewtwo, of course, was wide awake (Roy doubted that he ever slept) and staring into space, Pichu asleep at his feet. Roy’s next footstep made Mewtwo’s head jerk around as if it were spring loaded, and he glared at Roy with those piercing amber eyes.
“You’re late.”

Roy could never get used to telepathy, no matter how hard he tried. Maybe it wasn’t telepathy itself, but the feeling of Mewtwo’s mind prodding yours. Roy was sure that Mewtwo wasn’t working for the good of the team, but kept his observations to himself. Outwardly, he maintained the calm, cold demeanor that was expected of the Outcast.

“I bring news.”

He reached into his cape and took out the notes he had collected for the day, all the information he could find about this ‘Lucario’. He was due to arrive in a short while, the first secret newcomer. When he did, all hoped they would be able to carry him off without anyone noticing, like they did with Krystal and the Miis.

But it wouldn’t be easy. Lucario, they deduced, was to be Mewtwo’s replacement, and if Mewtwo was anything to judge by, he wouldn’t go down without a fight. They’d already established his moveset, had a good idea of his Final Smash, and learned the secret to his power: aura, a strange bluish fire that emanated from his hands. The problem was that Lucario’s strength increased proportional to how much danger he was in, so if they were to bag him off, they’d have to do so swiftly and silently.

Roy rifled through his notes, searching for the most important part. Finally, he found it: The date Lucario was to be brought in to live at the Smash Mansion. This he shared with the glowering feline.

“And there’s not much time. He’s probably already heading this way,” Roy concluded.

“Roy, you fool. We already know where Lucario is likely to be. Young Link has mapped out an ambush site. Doctor...?”

This last word jerked the sleeping Dr. Mario awake and he looked around wildly. Since he wasn’t under attack, he looked at Mewtwo, apprehensive.

“If you’ve been listening at all, you’d have just found that Lucario is on the move. Give me the map. I want you and Young Link to take positions. We can’t afford to let some lowborn copy of myself to enter Smash.“

Dr. Mario, bleary-eyed though he was, nodded, then scooted back from the desk and went over to Young Link. At the slightest touch, Link woke up, gripped his sword and leapt out of the hammock, slashing towards Dr. Mario. The Doctor, just as quickly, yanked out his sheet and whipped it around, spinning Link and nearly causing him to slice his hammock in half.

Pichu, who seemed to have woken up a few minutes before, took a flying leap and landed on Young Link’s face. Link looked like he was about to slash at it, but then pulled Pichu off, and turned to face a murderous Mewtwo.

He threw a look of incensed rage at Young Link, but in a businesslike tone, he addressed both Young Link and the Doctor. “Lucario is on the move. Get to the ambush point. Our friend here,” he glared at Roy, who crossed his arms and scowled, “was late, so we have no way to know how far he might be.”

He looked at them intently, and when he saw they were awaiting further orders, he mentally yelled “NOW!!!”

They looked at each other, nodded, and purposefully walked over to the ladder, which they soon vanished up.

Roy went over to his hammock and took off his cape. Mewtwo eyed him. “What now?”
“I’m going to sleep. I hope this won’t throw the plans off too much? I know how important it is to you to keep everyone up past their bedtime.”

Mewtwo scowled, but didn’t stop him. Roy was insufferable, always getting in the way of his brilliant plans. The others didn’t suspect, but Roy – Roy was suspicious. Roy knew how to fight evil, unlike the foolish Doctor, who seemed to think you could put away your troubles by throwing a pill at them. Young Link… he may eventually learn, but by that time, Mewtwo hoped to have escalated beyond him. And Pichu was nothing more than a pet.

Roy was the only flaw. If Roy was able to stop him, all his stratagems would be for naught. He needed more time. Lucario’s timely appearance gave him the time he required; he supposed he did owe credit to his loathsome doppelganger. Roy would not intervene, not with something more urgent at hand.

He laughed internally, and toyed with the name he had thought up for himself. The name his foes would learn to fear, once he opened the portal into Subspace and gained power beyond what even Master Hand could boast.

“Tabuu…”

**********
Lemme know what you think, but I'll keep writing regardless.
__________________
|> /-\ _ Z -- /\/\ /-\ |\|

 

[1UPChris]

Great FF. Although SSB stories are extremely popular, this one is one of the best. I like how you go into depth about the characters.

 

[Thunda-Moo]

Oh, goodness yes. This is epic. So well-written, so well-thought out... this is what a fanfic should be, my friend. The narration is supurb, which makes me jealous, becasue I always have too little narration and too much diolouge. You have just the amount of diolouge you need, no more and no less, and you carry the rest with your incredable narration... Keep writing, my friend, keep writing. With the talent you have, you could make a carrer out of it if you wanted to. Do you have any other stories? Do you want me to stop calling you "my friend?" But seriously, I wish I could write as well as you.

 

[The Brown Scourge]

Gotta say you have a real knack for writing stories. With practice your prowess could even get u a career in writing or at least some fans. Keep it up
Also, could u write one about bowser? I would really appreciate it!!!

 

[INSANE CARZY GUY]

He whistled softly, and Pichu’s round head popped out of the hidden entrance. He had been cute, once, when he was in Melee. Now a permanent, weary anger shone from his eyes whenever he looked at something. He called out “Pi-chu!” and disappeared, opening the entrance just wide enough for Roy to crawl through.

Mewtwo, of course, was wide awake (Roy doubted that he ever slept) and staring into space, Pichu asleep at his feet.
_________________
|> /-\ _ Z -- /\/\ /-\ |\|

lol pichu can muitle task like a beast.

good job and i have an idea for your and parts that could make it fit.

pichu backstabes

1. no thinks pichu you kill you 2.pichu talks in a different langauge so in theoy m2 can't mind read him. 3.pichu has no real data in brawl so brawl vs him shouldn't work 4. pichu has connections with with pikachu 5.plus the TAUNT 6.it looks like anyone could get the power in subspace

sorry i just like pichu

 

[Thunda-Moo]

I'm only depressed that Captan Falcon lost. Of course, he kinda had to because if Olimar got punched, you would no longer have a protagonist.

But yeah, wow. We're waiting for another godly update! Keep writing!

 

[ZonictheHedgehog]

Gee... thanks, guys. I thought it was pretty good, but nobody responded intitially. Good thing I decided to keep writing, huh?
I had bad internet connections for a while, so I couldn't post. The good news is that this next chapter is extremely long and I've already started on the next one. Here we go...

*****
Out of breath, Olimar anxiously hurried to his room. He refused to think about what had happened, and just thought about where he was going. The idea that he had killed... no. Keep moving.

His peripheral vision told him that there were people watching him, his ears vaguely perceived the sound of cheering, but he didn't register any of it. His eyes were focused only on the carpet flying underneath his feet, and his ears only listened to the woosh of air as he ran, full speed, to the air lock. And suddenly he was there.

He gathered up his Pikmin and sent them through the chute, and he hurriedly entered the air lock, waiting in agitation for the giant vacuum doors to open, then seal behind him. He yanked off his helmet, threw himself on the bed, and sobbed into the pillow.

What was he supposed to do? He finally let the images of the battle wash over his mind, in every picayune detail. The sickening gasp Falcon let out as he felt the heavy Purple smash into his gut. Throwing down the blazing Red, burning Falcon's back. The blue Pikmin, hammering Falcon with the heavy bud on its head. And the final Purple, knocking Falcon over the balcony and...

Olimar sobbed at it all, tears flowing freely. Why? He had never meant to kill anyone. Ever. Why did Falcon chase him? Why couldn't he have just left him alone? What was the point of dragging him here, against his will? He sobbed at the unfairness, at his own misfortune, at what he had done, and for the noble racer, whom he had... killed...

He finally sat up. Pull yourself together, he thought to himself, you're a grown man. Deal with the situation. Now, what to do?

What were his priorities? Get back to the ship, he thought. Well, that was a place to start. He had no idea of how to do it, he must be a thousand miles away by now, but it was a start.

He looked out the window, which overlooked the parking lot where he had made his appearance. It had quite a remarkable view, blue sky, green fields, mountains in the background – wasn't as majestic a view as the one he'd seen upstairs, but it was still spectacular.

Somehow, this seemed all wrong. This place was far too nice to be a club for fighters. Hadn't that woman in the suit – he blushed to think of her – been welcoming to him? What about all those crowds cheering him on as he arrived?
Then his memory kicked in, and he thought about those who had been cheering him on as he fled in terror from the scene. Cheering him on. They weren't angry at Olimar, they seemed to support his crime. Where they all coldblooded, or was he missing something?

Then the memory of Snake's crushing arms, the living shadow that tackled Falcon, and the ferocity of Falcon's charge weighed him down. What could it all mean?

He heard a squishing sound behind him, and spun around to see the robot-woman enter his room. He couldn't see very well behind the visor, so he couldn't tell what her expression was. She stood there, head slightly tilted, looking at him.
Before long, the air lock opened again, this time revealing a man in a clumsy-looking space suit, with a mirrored visor so Olimar couldn't see who it was. They just stood, looking at Olimar with the air of curiosity, before the two astronauts looked at each other and the woman beckoned for Olimar to follow.

Olimar, seeing that it wasn't really his decision to make, retrieved his helmet and followed the two out into the hallway. The air lock sealed behind him as he stepped out onto the plush carpet.

The woman had taken off her space suit and was now in her latex bodysuit that enunciated every perfect feminine curve: it made Olimar resent the feelings of pleasure he got when he looked at her body while he still had a wife. He then looked at the other person, and could not believe his eyes: it was Captain Falcon.

He turned to the woman, and his face clearly must have betrayed his hopeless confusion, because she laughed.

"Don't worry, Olimar, you're not in any kind of trouble. If you want to blame someone, blame me; I should never have left you to wander the Mansion by yourself. We usually have an official meeting when the new people arrive, and tell them exactly what is going on. Your confusion isn't at all unusual, but your explorer's instinct is. I guess we should have foreseen it– you are, after all, Captain Olimar."

Olimar couldn't find the words to describe his bewilderment, he just kept gesturing at Captain Falcon. She seemed to understand. So did Falcon.

"Hey, little man. Olimar, is it? You got no reason to worry. What you did back there was incredible. I'd like to shake your hand. That was some of the biggest ownage I've ever gone through in my long history here."

Falcon looked no worse for wear, despite his violent ricochet off a solid wall and what must have been a thirty-foot drop. He leaned back easily against the wall and was smiling down at Olimar, who had never felt so small in his life.

"Sorry about Snake back there. He's always so suspicious of people, I swear one of these days he'll turn in his own mother. He barely goes out of his bunker, he prefers to just sit there talking to some guy he calls 'the Colonel'."

"Why, I don't think I've even introduced myself," said the woman, cutting off Falcon as if he had never been talking. "I'm Samus. Samus Aran. You must've seen my room up there – the one with the eye scanner?" Olimar nodded slowly.

"Great! Snake lives in a different sector of the mansion since he's a third party character – one of two. Our other is Sonic the Hedgehog. I think you'll like Sonic, he's a pretty easygoing guy."

Captain Falcon snorted and muttered something imperceptible under his breath. Samus cast him a dirty look.

"He's just jealous," she whispered to Olimar. "He was once the fastest character in Smash until Sonic arrived."

Louder, she said, "You know, I'm feeling kind of peckish for some breakfast. Why don't you tag along, Olimar? You'll get to meet people."

Olimar cast an uncertain glance at Falcon. Falcon nodded.

"Go right on, little man. You can have a seat at our table. Although, how are you going to eat with that helmet on?"

Olimar really had no idea, so he turned yet again back to Samus. Samus seemed stumped as well.

"Oh, well, you can just sit at the table, make conversation, you know. I'll send up some breakfast when you're ready and you can eat it in your room."

A loud crash interrupted them, and they all looked toward the staircase where it happened. A small, caped figure with a sword was viciously stabbing at a large pink blob that was floating around it, laughing diabolically.

"Oh for..."

Samus and Falcon were running towards the fray, which struck Olimar as odd. He'd be running in the opposite direction, normally. The first rule, as with a Bulbear, was to find out where it was NOT going and then go to that exact place. And yet, those two were running TOWARDS the conflict.

Olimar saw Samus touch the back of her hand, and her armor reappeared. Falcon had no armor. The suit he wore into Olimar's room must have only been temporary protection from the Hocotatian atmosphere.

Olimar watched, half in awe, half in terror as Samus charged a gigantic beam weapon on her arm and launched it into the pink blob's shapeless form. In the same instant, Falcon performed a fiery sliding kick – Olimar recognized it from his own battle with the racer – to trip up the swordsman, then sealed its fate with a powerful knee blow in midair. The two original combatants landed, not as carcasses, but as polished trophies.

Samus shed her suit and Olimar could see that both Falcon and Samus were completely unfazed by their battle. They weren't even panting. Falcon turned to Olimar and beckoned to him from far down the hallway.

As Olimar cautiously walked up to them, Falcon grabbed the trophy of the caped, masked swordsman and handed it to him. Olimar took it, surprised at its lightness, then looked enquiringly at Falcon.

"This," he said heavily, "Is what happens to the defeated. Nobody dies here, they just become trophies. This is what you turned me into at the end of our little tussle this morning. The only way to reawaken a trophy is to tag its base."
With that, he grabbed the trophy from Olimar's hands, placed it reverently on the ground, and placed a hand on the giant, golden base.

There was a flash of light, and when Olimar could see again, the trophy was replaced with the masked man, lying on the ground. Viciously, the man leapt up and cast his beady eyes side to side. He looked like a strange little being: he was all head, with feet clad in armor and two stubby arms. He stared at Olimar, and Olimar suddenly wished he had brought the Pikmin.

Falcon was unperturbed. "Meta Knight, this is Olimar. Olimar, Meta Knight. Shake hands."

Meta Knight did nothing but glower at Olimar, who retreated. This did not make Falcon happy.

"For the love of... Meta, can you go a single day without challenging everyone you meet to a duel?"

"Who is this intruder? What is he doing here? Is he one of the Outcast?"

The voice was deep and gruff, and after a while, Olimar realized it came from Meta Knight. It was not a friendly voice, it was the voice of one committed to militaristic precision and discipline.

Falcon was exasperated.

"GOOD GOD!" he roared, "Why in hell would he be here if he was Outcast?! He's a newcomer! He's never been here before! Honestly, MK, you're no better than Snake! You're all so paranoid! The Outcast have never touched us once. Not once! Oh, they've tried, but they've never succeeded. Would you, all of you, cut it with the Outcast?"

Meta Knight was incensed, but didn't say anything. He just stalked off and disappeared into the misty veil of his room.

Samus had disappeared, Olimar noticed. He did not know where, and he kind of wished she hadn't gone. He hated being left alone with these people, but even so, he kind of enjoyed the feeling of liberation. He looked at Falcon, who was still breathing heavily and staring into the darkness of Meta Knight's door. He then turned and breathed a "Let's go..." to Olimar. But Olimar held up a hand, walked over to the pink blob's statue, and tagged the base.

After the flash of light, the blob sat up, rubbed its eyes with its stubby arms, and then hopped up and stood. Olimar realized that he looked a lot like Meta Knight, and wondered if they were the same species. It looked at him with an interested curiosity, then lifted its arms over its head, jutted its body forward and said, "Hiiiiii!"

It then offered one of its arms and Olimar shook it. It seemed happy, but then it yawned and accidentally sucked Olimar in.

Olimar had no chance to see it coming. All he saw was it opening its mouth wide and then he was moving toward it. Then darkness.

He felt a couple dull thuds and then he was spat back out. Falcon was standing over him, frowning at the blob. He apparently had to punch Olimar out of the blob's mouth. Olimar looked at the creature and at its big, sad eyes, and felt a wave of sympathy for it, so he awkward patted it's 'head'. The blob smiled, inflated itself with air, and floated off up the stairs.

"That was Kirby," said Falcon, and Olimar detected a note of impatience in his voice. "What you see is what you get, except for that mouth of his. He can suck you up and copy one of your moves. Really an annoying little bugger, but he can be deadly if you double-cross him. Come on, I'm hungry."

They descended down the stairs without any further incident, and Falcon led the way to the dining room. Olimar decided that if Valhalla ever was a real place, this was it.

It had a multitude of very long tables, all laid out in parallel lines, and piled with a wasteful amount of food. Everything Olimar could have hoped for was there – sausage, bacon, fried potatoes, pancakes, waffles, biscuits, gravy, cinnamon rolls, eggs of all kinds, even Pikpik carrot juice. Olimar wondered vaguely how they managed to get Pikpik carrots all the way over here, but he was not about to start complaining.

Unhappily, though, he saw the problem with his helmet: he had no way to eat with it on. He sighed and forced himself to accept that he would have to eat later in his room, as Samus had said.

Instead, he found himself being introduced to Falcon's group: Luigi, Ike, Marth, Popo, Snake, and Mr. Game and Watch or just GW, the solid shadow who had tried to kill Falcon earlier on. Snake scooted over to make room for him, and Olimar hesitated.

"It's all right," said Snake, "I won't do anything to you. I think we started off on the wrong foot when we met. What
was your name, again? Olimar? Well, I'm sorry that I almost killed you this morning, Olly."

"I seem-a to recall de same apology when Ike try to slit Snake's-a throat when he first arrive," said Luigi through his thick Italian accent. Everyone laughed, except for Ike. Ike remained somber at the comment.

"Aw, buck up, Ike. You can't expect to be so willing to insult others but not tolerating insult to yourself." Ike glowered at the speaker, Popo, the male Ice Climber, but didn't have a chance to speak because Samus suddenly arrived at the table.

"I'm sure all of you, ah, fine gentlemen..." She glanced at Falcon with a smirk, "would like to finish your breakfasts, and I won't stop you, but hurry up. We've got a lot to discuss this morning, particularly regarding Lucario when he shows up."

"If he shows up, you mean," snarled Snake. "You never can tell about these Outcasts, they might have gotten others who we just didn't know about."

"When he shows up, Snake. There's no proof to indicate that the Outcast have indeed formed a ragtag group of bandits. Besides, even if they did, what match would they be against all of Smash? Master Hand alone could put them in their place. I don't know why everyone is so paranoid these days," Samus said firmly.
Snake scowled but said nothing.

Olimar did not feel like being caught in the middle of an argument, so he quietly left got out of his chair and was about to leave when he heard Samus ask, “Going somewhere?”

He nodded and pointed up the stairs. “Alright,” Samus sighed, “there are room service slips right on the desk, and a small chute right next to that. Just fill out what you want and you should have it in no time.” He nodded and left.

After getting to his room (no one was battling in the hallway this time, thank goodness), he found the room service papers and the chute. Five minutes after he sent them, his breakfast arrived on a golden tray carried by a smallish robot. The robot had a large circular base at the bottom, a long shaft upon which its torso rested with two bright red claw-arms arching out, and its head was on top: a square construct the size of a cereal box with two large lenses that looked like eyes and a small blinking light on top.

After setting his tray on the desk, the robot bowed deeply and left. Olimar could sense a sort of sadness, a resignation to its fate. He often wondered why people would bother instilling a personality into a piece of machinery intended for servitude, both the obstinacy of the ship and the silent torture of the robotic servant who had just left.

He ate in silence, with his own thoughts to make conversation. The food was among the best he’d ever tasted, and he made a mental note to compliment the robot about the excellent cuisine. Later, he found himself reclining in the desk chair, leaning against the bed, gazing out the window. He wondered how Louie was doing, so far away with the rest of the Pikmin. He was probably frantic when Olimar didn’t return, but by now he’d probably eaten that colossal donut they had found. Olimar had caught him on more than one occasion trying to tiptoe over to it, eyes glazed with hunger. Olimar sighed, resigning himself. It didn’t really matter, now.

He heard a beep and looked around wildly, then realized it came from a small speaker next to the door that he hadn’t noticed. Samus’s voice was speaking to him from it.

“Olimar, we need you to get out of your room so we can go over formally welcome you and establish your moveset. It looks like you already know quite a bit, actually, but we still need to make it official – Master Hand’s orders. I’ll be seeing you on the Battlefield in five minutes.”

The Battlefield? Moveset? Master Hand? FIVE MINUTES?

Olimar snatched his helmet and ran to the air lock, but Samus was gone by the time he got out. He went cautiously down the hall and stood at the top of one set of stairs that led
down to the foyer. The mansion was huge. He had no idea where to go.

He went down the stairs and looked around. The hallways were all silent, devoid of man or beast. He saw the door that lead to the dining room, but it was almost certainly not the place he needed. He looked around, randomly picked a door, and went through.
It was a billiard hall, with a bar at the back. And the bartender was… anther robot?

It was sitting behind the bar, polishing a glass with its claw arm. It looked up at him inquisitively as he entered the room. He looked around, waved timidly and quickly exited.

Well, that was one door down. He spotted another one that looked rather grand, marked “Stages”. He tried that one, but all it revealed just another long hallway full of doors. He pulled his head out and looked around the foyer again.

Next to the fireplace was a door that featured two hands holding the strange logo that was on the rug and the top of the mansion. He cautiously entered.

Inside was... an office. A bookcase, a desk, a chair, and some potted plants. He took a few ginger steps in, and his ears pricked up as he heard a scratching sound over in one corner of the room.

He turned around, and nearly screamed with terror.
T
he thing doing the scratching was an enormous, severed hand in a white glove. And it was jerking around in the most bizarre, frightening fashion. It was imprisoned in a steel cage with a reinforced glass shield, but the spectacle still made Olimar's blood run cold with fear. It scuttled around on its fingers, twitching, jerking around, trying to escape its prison.

It sensed Olimar’s presence and started groping toward him, blindly, but it was always stopped by the reinforced glass and the metal bars that restrained it. Olimar swallowed. Those fingers looker like they were eager to grab him, crushing him to a pulp.

Was this Master Hand? Was it the same hand that had taken him and the Pikmin hostage, and driven them to this place? What was it doing locked up in a cage? Or more importantly, why wasn’t it always locked up?

The hand stopped scuttling, and now began tapping on the glass, the way a little kid taps on the glass of a fish tank. Only this time it was the hand that was trapped in the tank, and it was a thousand times larger. Olimar had the dread feeling that it was waiting for something.

He began backing away, slowly, and then heard something else: what sounded like a thousand footsteps rapidly approaching this way. He barely had time to turn around when he saw a blue flash of light and a figure appeared, looking down at him.

It looked like a cross between a man and a rodent of some kind, and it was blue. Blue. It looked up at the tremendous hand with a mixture of disgust and fear.

“Hey. You Olimar? You’re really late for the welcoming. We need to get you out of here. Fast! How fast can you run?”

Olimar was about to answer, but suddenly the rodent man was gone. He ran after it, but couldn’t compete with its speed. By the time he reached the foyer, it was waiting next to the door marked “Stages”.

“Come on, step it up!” it shouted, lying on its back and kicking around in a circle. It then stood up and dashed through the door. Olimar followed, but he just found himself in the long hallway full of doors again. One was ajar. He could see no other choice, so he went through.

He heard an uproar the moment he walked through. So many people, animals, and things in-between were there, crammed onto a tiny floating island that Olimar could see no supports for. He recognized a few of them: Ike, Snake, Luigi, Popo, Falcon, Samus, GW, Kirby, Meta Knight, the strange yellow creature that had met him in the hallway, the blue turtle, and his retriever, the blue rodent person. And, the hand.

He didn’t know what to say, he was too paralyzed with fear. The hand was not twitching or jerking around, it was just floating in midair, and it seemed to be looking at him. Then he noticed something: the thumb on this hand was on the opposite side of the thumb of the other one. This was the right hand. What he had seen earlier was the left. He breathed a sigh of relief.

There were plenty of others he had not met. A large blue bird wearing a pilot suit shook his hand with a wing and said his name was Falco. Olimar remembered his door. Popo introduced his ‘partner’ (as he referred to her) Nana. The pair looked almost exactly alike, she even wore a parka similar to Popo except it was pink. Olimar didn’t know if they were married, siblings, or business partners, and neither, it seemed, did anybody else.

He shook hands with Mario, the man with his name on a tube of paint. It turned out that Mario was Luigi's elder twin brother, and also was just about the most important man there.

His arm eventually felt loose from all the hand shaking he did, and his brain hurt from striving to memorize everyone's name (he almost never got Peach and Zelda straight).

Finally, it was all over and he stood there alone with Mario to begin his training.

"First, you must-a know de standard moves," began Mario. "De standard, de stee-rong, and de smash."

Mario was perplexed as to why Olimar couldn't do the smash attack. Olimar was just as befuddled. He did everything as Mario had told him to, but the best he could do was point his finger and hope that the enemy would be frightened away. Similarly for the down and up smashes. Mario gave up on it.

"Okay. Ees no problem. You no have to do de smash to win the match. All you must-a do is keep-a you opponent off-a de ground. Watch-a me closely."

Mario began displaying dash attacks, for use while running, and Olimar was relieved to find that he could do it. But when Mario did Aerials, Olimar was chagrined to find he had no more luck with them as his smashes, except the neutral move.

"Fine. Let us-a begin with de Special Moves. De Special Moves are what make-a de character." Olimar could sense that Mario was frustrated. He was frustrated as well.

"Now, for-a de Standard Special," Mario pushed out his palm and Olimar barely dodged the fireball that Mario emitted.

"Now, what-a does it say for you Standard?" Mario pulled out a pamphlet and looked through it. "Aha...de Pik-man Pluck. Is you okay with dat?"

Olimar tried, but he couldn't do it. He went through the motions of pulling up a Pikmin as he'd always remembered, but nothing was happening.

"Arg, okay, what of de side move?"

Mario viciously yanked out a cape and spun Olimar around in it. When Olimar tried his own side special move, the Pikmin Throw, he went through the motions of hurtling a Pikmin that wasn't there.

"Of de up move?! Can you at least-a do de up move?!" Olimar could not, and almost was hit by a jumping uppercut that a murderous Mario tried to peg him with.

"AND DE DOWN?! CAN'T DO DAT EITHER, I SUPPOSE?"

Mario descended charging a huge, dangerous-looking machine on his back. Olimar knew he had only one chance. He loudly blew his whistle.

His Pikmin arrived rapidly. They flew from their home all the way to the stage in less than a second. Just as Mario was about to release whatever he was charging on Olimar, Olimar grabbed a blue Pikmin and threw it at the device's nozzle, in which it got its head stuck.

The machine was jammed, and Mario was mad. Olimar was initially scared for the little Pikmin's safety, but then realized what Mario had in the device: water. Plain, simple, ordinary water. The Blue would be all right. Himself, on the other hand...

He jumped over a punch and threw a Purple straight down at Mario, knocking his instructor down. He landed, then turned with an electric Yellow in hand ready to be thrown, but Mario was not intent upon killing him. He was laughing.

Olimar was utterly bemused at first, but then realized what had happened. He had used both Pikmin Throw and his down Aerial. His previous failings were not the result of a lack of competence, but a lack of Pikmin. When he blew his whistle, they had come to him, and now he was ready to fight.

They went through all of the difficult spots that they had before, and all of them were now easy for him except one – the Pikmin Pluck. Try as he might, he could not pull any more Pikmin form the ground. Mario's only suggestion was too morbid to think about.

"Throw one off."

Off? Off the floating platform? But he couldn't. Knowing that he'd kill the one that he threw, he steadfastly refused to do it. Mario shrugged and simply said, "If you want to learn..."

They got through all the basic training, but there wasn't any time for a professional Brawl.

"Anyhoo," chuckled Mario, "I-a heard of your leettle tussle with-a Captain Falcon. It-a was supposed to be some o' de best fighting dis mansion has ever seen. Come, let us eat. I haff a beeg battle weeth my leetle brother very soooon, and I want-a to be fighting fit."

Olimar could hardly understand him, but made no comment. He was hungry, too.

*****
You have no idea how hard it is to keep Olimar from speaking a word, which is one of the oaths I took when I started writing this. I will give away no secrets as to the ending, but I like ideas, so go ahead and send them in. The next chapter is coming along quite nicely, so stay tuned!

 

[ZonictheHedgehog]

Reader Responses:
Thunda-moo: Sadly, this is my only piece of work on these here forums. When I finish this, I could see about doing more.
Brown Scourge: I dunno if I could write one about Bowser, since I was given sudden inspiration to write this piece and just began writing. I'll see if I could make him more important in the plot than I had originally mapped out. Or I could take Thunda-Moo's suggestion and write another one about the big turtle. We'll see.
Carzy Guy: I like 'em. Not to say I'll use 'em, but I'll keep those ideas in mind. If I need a backstabber, pichu's my mouse. I've already got a whole log of other things I want to use somehow, but I'll add yours to the list. Till next time...

 

[INSANE CARZY GUY]

come to me for madness. I put the pichu out there because I can't talk about pichu anywhere

 

[Thunda-Moo]

If a lack of talking is bugging you, you can always do things like "Olimar attenpted to convay his confusion" or suchlike. Instead of talking, Olimar should just be magicly good at making people understand what he wants them to (or is it "too?"). That's what I would do, anyway.

You still have epic writing talent. My one qualm: you've made every character other then Olimar a short-tempered jerk. Was that intentional?

 

[ZonictheHedgehog]

Weeeelllllllllll...
I guess they did turn out nasty, didn't they? I'll try to stop. Only, you've got to remember that they're all in a club for fighters, and used to resolving conflicts with battles. IOW: I don't agree with you, so I'm going to blast your guts out to prove that I'm right.

I believe I've succeeded in keeping Olimar totally mute to the reader, but it's a pain in the brain to thiink up ways to make him 'speak' without speaking, and without making it sound something like,

"Da da da? Da da!" said Mario. Olimar expressed his concern. "Da da, da da da bla bla bla," said Fox. Olimar agreed.

That's no fun. It sounds really sloppy, too.

BTW,
'Too' references when you are including something to what was previously said, such as in my last paragraph: it's both no fun, AND it sounds really sloppy. Therefore, 'too' with two O's is appropriate.
'Two' is a number, as in how many O's are in the word 'too'.
'To' with ONE 'O' is used in every other case. Your usage of 'to' in your statement "making people understand what he wants them to" was exactly right, although the sentence was a bit lengthy and could have simply been reduced to "making people understand him."

Okay, the Keeper of the Grammer in me has vented. Now for the next chapter. Or rather, two crucial mini-chapters. Enjoy.

*****
Lucario reclined in his seat. He wasn't too sure where he was going, but the hand that picked him up seemed to know, so he didn't think much about it. He knew he could handle anything that was given to him.

They had left his home, the Iron Island, long ago, and were now driving through a vast open plain. He glanced out the window, but all he could see of interest was a castle entombed in a yellow diamond. Some small goblin creatures were hobbling around waving clubs at him, and once he saw a pair of the goblins riding what looked like a Donphan trying to shoot flaming arrows at him. But the limo was unfazed.
He couldn't communicate with the glove at all. He didn't know whether or not it even had a mind, since his telepathy was always stopped short whenever he tried to communicate with it. But he had resigned
himself to this, long ago.

He sighed, and watched the surroundings turn into a green highway with dips, loops, and steep cliffs that the limousine travelled through with ease. Strange golden rings were rotating slowly in the air, but he didn't bother himself about them. Instead, he was aware of something else, and it wasn't something good. What was it?

As if in answer, another flaming arrow ricocheted off the window. He extended outward with his consciousness and found that the flaming arrows came, not from a goblin on Donphan back, but from the figure of a young boy with a soul tinged with anger and hatred. The hand sped up the vehicle, it seemed to know that something wasn't right. Lucario calmly readied his aura as he sensed, in slow motion, as a lit bomb was thrown in front of the limo. He snapped to himself, opened the door, and bailed out right as the bomb exploded.

The hand had appeared out of the car as well, which was blown sky high. Lucario finally saw the culprit, a kid wearing a green tunic and a floppy green hat, holding a sword and shield. He saw also a portly doctor with a mustache, holding a pill.

They weren't happy. Lucario guessed they had meant to kill him in the explosion. He began to charge an Aura Sphere, but then the hand snatched him off the ground and started flying away, with the kid and the doctor in pursuit. When Lucario could finally see over the hand's fingers, he saw a large house in the
distance.

*****
And the second mini-chapter...
*****
"Alright, everyone. Positions. We want to give Lucario a nice large reception when he shows up."

Olimar fidgeted in his position. The crowds had already gathered, waiting expectantly. They had already received a hint that Lucario would be the next member to join Brawl, but this would be proof positive. The place was completely silent, so Samus's words echoed over them like a canyon. Everyone was on edge.
Even the Pikmin. Olimar had just noticed that they had the unusual tenseness that only came about when they sensed danger. Why would that be?

He turned his eyes to the sky, squinting at the sun's heat. It was a beautiful day, a bright blue with puffy clouds. There had to be a strong wind to be blowing one of them this way so fast. It was shaped like a fist. He blinked and all became clear.

It WAS a fist. A titanic fist, holding a blue creature in it. And hot on its tail was a small boy that looked a lot like the elf guy, Link, and a chubby doctor that could have been Mario's mirror image.

The crowd realized it, too. With a single scream somewhere in its midst, the entire crowd began pushing and shoving, desperately struggling to get away from the hand and its pursuers. Olimar would have joined them, but some new part of his mind that didn't know existed burst into being and he found himself jumping over the barrier that separated him and the other Smashers from the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Captain Falcon, Meta Knight and GW do the same. The other Smashers that had come out to see the newcomer didn't seem too keen on fighting – he saw the penguin called Dedede waddling as fast as he could to the front doors, with Luigi and the Ice Climbers following suit. But the explosion of emotion pushed him forward, and he turned to face the hand and its hunters square on. He picked up his yellow Pikmin, judged the distance, and hurtled it forward at the Doctor person with all his might.

Yellow Pikmin are unique when thrown. Their large ears allow them to control air and fly higher and farther than normal Pikmin. Moreover, this was a Smash Pikmin. Wherever Olimar threw it, it was almost certain to hit. This Pikmin was no exception.

From nearly a quarter mile away, the Pikmin latched on target and viciously smacked Dr. Mario around, electrocuting him and slicing him with the razor-sharp flower petals on its head. Dr. Mario cried out in shock and agony, then grabbed the creature and punched it clean away. Olimar saw it beginning to flicker, and blew his whistle. It returned to him instantly, completely rejuvenated.

He saw GW materialize a 2D frying pan from nowhere and begin flipping it, showering the boy and the doctor in flat black fish and sausages. The boy covered his head with his wooden shield, charge forward and attempt to slash Captain Falcon with his short sword. Falcon dodged the attempt and slid forward in a Falcon Kick, but the boy leapt over him and pulled out a bomb. As Falcon looked up, he got a face full of the explosive as the boy rapidly spun out of reach. Falcon was thrown into the side of the mansion by the blast and slid to the ground, where he did not get up. Olimar snatched up his blue Pikmin and flung it at the boy, but the boy quickly drew out an arrow and, with eerie accuracy, shot the Pikmin straight in the heart.

Olimar watched, as if in slow motion, as a crackle of flames consumed the screaming Pikmin. He had forgotten even to blow his whistle. The flames coming from the Pikmin were not burning it. Instead, the Pikmin sounded as if its voice were getting older and… dustier. And the flames themselves, he noticed, were not orange. They were purple.

Then he looked up, and saw the one responsible.

It was a cat.

A giant cat that stood on two legs. Its eyes were alive with malice, and its arm was coated in the same bizarre purple flame that had consumed the Pikmin, yet it did not seem to feel it. As Olimar reached for a purple Pikmin, it glanced at him.

Suddenly, his body felt very weak, and he was dizzy. He could hardly stand on two legs. The creature then lifted its hand, and an unknown force lifted Olimar along with it. The creature pushed out its hand and Olimar was thrown along with it. He landed on smooth, soft grass, but his body still felt too weak to get up. He could only look on in dismay.

The intruder might never have noticed Olimar in the first place. It looked on, coldly, at the slim blue creature that had just left the Hand's grip and was walking swiftly towards the front door.

The creature threw its arms back and pulled out a tremendous ball of purple fire, which rocketed forward in a staggered path. Olimar saw it head straight for the newcomer and make impact.

But then the figure rapidly split into two, and flash, there it was. It was looking straight at the feline with defiant amber eyes, but then it turned and quickly entered the mansion. The reinforced doors slid securely shut behind him.

Giving a strangled yell, the cat-creature vanished and reappeared at the doorway, banging at it with all of its might. Then it stopped.

It turned around, and with a look of evil intent in its eyes, it began charging a giant orb of indigo flame – staring straight at the unconscious figure of Falcon.

Olimar couldn't move. All he could do was watch the orb, zigzagging its way over towards the helpless Captain. It was about to collide...

And Olimar saw GW twist and appear, right in front of the sphere. He heard a sickening thud as the orb made impact, and GW was knocked onto the ground. A flash of light consumed him, and GW became a trophy. But that wasn't all.

From GW's trophy trickled hundreds, thousands of small purple spores. And suddenly, Olimar’s mind was rent with pain.

The intruder was laughing. It warped over to the trophy, snatched it up, and pronounced for only itself and Olimar to hear.

"At long last, the source of all Shadow Bugs is mine!"

When Olimar could see again, the creature had vanished.

*****
I can already see people asking me why GW didn't just use his bucket. My answer is a simple, yet convenient one: He didn't think about it until the last second, and then it was because he ran out of time. Ding! Okay, until next time,

 

[INSANE CARZY GUY]

remember only the melee people can wavedash, L-cancel and etc. That's why why were so good outnumbered

 

[Thunda-Moo]

TT.TT


Do you have something horribly against Captain Falcon? Huh?

Your story is still great. I wish I had some critisisum... I guess I could ask why CF didn't become a trophy... Or why Meta Knight rushed to the scene but didn't do anything... or why CF didn't use the Knee of Justice (Sorry, I'm Falcon Obsessive!.) or why, say, Samus didn't join the fight, but those are minor details that not even I really care about.

So I have nothing worth saying. Sorry.

 

[ZonictheHedgehog]

Back!
I've been on vacation, but now I must put such silly things aside and get back to work. On fanfics. Yeah...
Thunda-Moo, I have a few answers for you, but I must relent my shortcomings.

CF didn't become a trophy because he was knocked down and not knocked out.

I meant to add Meta Knight to do something with his cape, but I guess that didn't work out as well as I had planned.

Why don't youalways use Knee of Justice when playing as CF? Because the opportunity hadn't presented itself. Besides, Knee Smash isn't an instant KO if they have 0% damage. He was going to wear them down, and when the time was right, smash them out. But not as a first attack.

Arg, I neglected to mention why Samus wasn't among the fighters. My hurried explanation is she was sheperding the crowd to safety.

I'm still rather new at writing, but that's no excuse for plotholes. From now on, I'm going to do a lot more editing of my work. Thanks for the feedback. The next chapter I hope to get out on if not before the 20th. Until then...

 

[INSANE CARZY GUY]

crealy you lied

 

[ZonictheHedgehog]

Wow...

It's been two full years since the last installment, and I've been busy walking on new continents and such in that long, long time. But (!) I have completed several more chapters, and finally motivated myself to post them up for a new audience if not the old. I want to finish this saga if I can, get these ideas off my back, and then move on to whatever else catches my fancy.

I have begun a more strenuous process of eliminating plotholes, so I hope these next installments won't be as sloppy as the previous few.

And in my MS Word form of this story, I have hit 40 pages! Which is more than I'd EVER expected to write. So reread the story and rehash your memory if its a bit dim and fuzzy from the previous decade, and enjoy the re-continuation of Olimar's Entry!

*****
"So... what now?"

It was the Pokemon Trainer who had asked. No one answered him. They were all seated around a long table, with Master Hand at the head. Lucario was the long-awaited newcomer. GW's chair was empty.

None had been able to sleep soundly ever since the attack, three days ago. All anyone ever wanted to talk about was the nature of the "Shadow Bugs" that Mewtwo was so keen to get his hands on. It was all empty talk, since nobody seemed to know what they really were.

Nobody, that is, except for Master Hand and Ganondorf. But Master Hand never spoke. And when Ike screwed up his courage and asked Ganon, he just laughed and said they were the "key into the hidden realm". That was all anybody could get out of him. And all anybody wanted to do with him - anyone who was in his presence felt abnormally cold, even the Ice Climbers. Anyone, that is, except Bowser. But Bowser didn't speak, either, unless those grunts and growls were some form of language that only he could understand.

So the rumors flew. Olimar had told and retold everything he could remember as accurately as he could. They could only speculate as to the rest.

The tenseness wasn't just felt by the Brawlers. Security had been kicked into high gear, so much that the Master Robot had to return to the Island of the Ancients to oversee the production of the extra security ROBs that were now in demand.

The buzz about the Shadow bugs subsided a bit as time wore on and no further activities of the Outcast were reported, although the atmosphere continued to grow very tense at any mention of Mr. Game and Watch. The conversations had been replaced with talk of the new Stage that was being built - the Midair Stadium. It was to be a grand spactator-filled arena a mile above the surface, dedicated to Smash for its third successful game. Princess Peach and Princess Zelda were going to be there to open the stadium and a lottery was being held to determine the first combatants on the stage, but Ike was cynical.

"It's rigged, that lottery," he replied offhandedly to Olimar's question. "It's going to be Kirby and Mario, you see if it isn't. Think about it - Kirby is Sakurai's creation, and Mario is Nintendo's mascot, who else would they put in there? I'm telling you, in any given Smash stage that's supposed to be on neutral ground, it'll always be Kirby and Mario. Not worth my time."

In fact, Olimar couldn't find anybody who WAS entering the lottery - except Mario and Kirby. Later on, he would realize that it was probably a self-fulfilling prophesy in this way.

For a while, it seemed that life had returned to some semblence of daily life at the Mansion. Olimar continued his training daily with Mario on the Battlefield and discovered that, while it took a while to get the hang of his moves, he had several tricks he could pull off to baffle other fighters. He frequently watched professional Melee matches between the other fighters, noting their technique and refining his own style.

As his strength grew, he found he was gradually accepted by the rest of the fighters. At last, he felt this strange new place had become a home. At least during the daytime.

At night, he dreamed. And his dreams were so realistic, and so terrible, that he sometimes felt that life in the daytime was in an entirely separate world. It was always more or less the same dream every night; the only change was at the end.

He was crashing on this mysterious planet, afraid he'd never get back to Hocotate alive...

He was fighting that terrible Snagret which ate up more than seventy Pikmin before Olimar fled, tears streaming...

He was being crushed to death in Snake's incredible grip, unsure if he would ever see his family again...

He was fighting for his life against Falcon, who then was nothing more than a savage animal...

He watched the intruder as it smote GW with the purple orb of evil energy. The spores rained from the trophy...

...and then he saw the intruder again. It was floating in a dark purple void, its skin turned translucent green. Its tail was gradually shrinking, the creature looked more manlike every night. From its back, it was growing two moth wings, glowing neon with the runes of dark sorcery inscribed upon them. A short ways away, GW's trophy floated, churning out dark spores, flowing towards the creature endlessly, making it stronger. And Olimar felt such a rage at the incredible power being granted to such an evil being. Every night, the dream would close with the creature's eyes being opened. And the creature would speak to Olimar, though every night he struggled to resist, struggled to block his mind against the single cutting word it always uttered, a word that lanced his thoughts and pierced him to his very core.

"Soon."

And then, after he was jerked from sleep in a sweat, he would reprimand himself, and swear it was the last time he'd ever allow the creature to enter his mind. He would then roll over and enter a dreamless sleep, until morning came and everything was back to normal.

He never told anyone of his dreams. Whenever he came close to broaching the topic, he would be filled with an inexplicable sense of shame, and keep his mouth shut. Eventually, he convinced himself that the shame he felt was because he had failed to stand up to the intruder, which logically would mean that GW's kidnapping was his own fault. Naturally, he was determined that no one else should suffer the same terrible fate.

But two weeks after GW vanished, it seemed the Outcast had other plans. Although no one knew what precisely had caused it.

The Smash Limo had been armed, armored, and put under armed guard by ROB, to discourage further attacks. Toon Link, Young Link's replacement, was supposed to be brought in from the toon parallel of Hyrule with the strongest security imaginable. Not a single detail had been overlooked. The welcoming crowd was carefully screened for weapons, and a pile of items from Pokeballs to soccer balls began to accumulate in the security office. Toon Link himself was permitted to carry all manner of weapons, the better to defend himself against potential interceptors.

But as he was escorted from the limousine by his ROB sentries, he vanished.

There was no warning, no sign of struggle, no doctors or cats or blue spheres of doom. Just as he stepped from the limo and waved to the cheering crowd, he disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.

The entire Smash community was utterly silent.

And then everyone was screaming. As the crowd stampeded away from the scene, the fighters clamored to reach the safety of the Mansion before they could meet the same fate as Toon Link.

At first, it seemed as if everyone had made it. But as the glass doors sealed, a loud cry emanated the Pokemon Trainer, and he fell to his knees, weeping.

"Jigglypuff... Oh God, they got Jigglypuff!"

 

[ZonictheHedgehog]

I figured it would take a while for anyone to notice it again, so I'll post the next chapter up to keep the thread fresh. Rate, comment, critique, but whatever you do, make sure you actually read it.
*****

It was a terrible few days after two fighters were snatched away from the Mansion. No one knew what to do. As Samus dutifully read out the new guidelines for extra security - no one was to leave the Mansion, except through the specialized doors in the Stages hallway; all doors and windows were to be kept locked during the night; only ROBs were permitted to leave the mansion - the fighters contemplated their fates.

Nobody was happy. Tempers kept flaring up and many petty disagreements became full-scale brawls involving six or more Smash Brothers. Old enemies were now permanently kept separate after a truly terrible clash involving Kirby, Mario, and Link against Bowser, King Dedede, and Ganondorf. Snake was spending more time than ever in his bunker. Even some of the calmer Brothers weren't immune from the growing resentment at being trapped indoors:

Wario, after leering at Zelda for the umpteenth time, was eventually found bound by a chain, hanging upside-down from a chandelier and ranting incoherently.

Popo had done a number on Fox, supposedly for "insulting Nana's womanhood" by mentioning that the pair's faces were hard to differentiate.

Ness had originally been impressed by Lucas's growing PSI abilities after the latter had warped Pit to the other side of a solid brick wall - until he saw the hole that Pit left from being slammed through it.

And after having gone missing for five hours, Sonic had famously burst into the Dining Hall coated with a dripping wet slime and accusing Yoshi of having egged him (After Yoshi’s furious response, the two were quickly separated to prevent further conflict).

It was going to be a difficult procedure to retrieve the last combatant, Wolf. Meta Knight begrudgingly allowed Master Robot to use his ship, the Halberd, in order to ensure Wolf’s safe arrival from space. The other ROBs were already working with Zelda and Falco to develop unique systems and technologies for the operation. Zelda used her magical expertise to research a means to counteract Mewtwo’s magical abilities, and Falco’s intimate knowledge of Arwings made him an authority of sorts on Wolf’s craft, the Wolfen, which was designed on stolen Arwing technology.

While Olimar put on the act of also being opposed to the new restrictions, he was secretly grateful for the security measures being taken. He didn't want anyone else to suffer as a result of his own inaction against Mewtwo. Toon Link and Jigglypuff were already about as much as he could bear.

And the dreams kept coming. He never saw the trophies of Toon Link or Jigglypuff when he was in the purple realm, he could only assume that they were being kept somewhere as prisoners. The Being - he wasn't able to call it Mewtwo, its form had become so disfigured into a corrupted angel for it to retain its old name - now spoke openly to him, each syllable now prickling him uncomfortably but never jarring him awake.

"Welcome back, friend," it would always say.

The Being's human face never changed. Its expression of indifference was chiseled in a face colder and harder than granite. Its stone eyes stared, sightless, at Olimar. Now Olimar was bound into his trophy - motionless, yet terribly concious, resting on a pillar of GW's tortured essence.

Olimar wanted to lash out and tear at the being who kept him alive in chains of GW's misery, who twisted that sacred word, friend, into the most abhorred of evils. But he was frozen in the confines of the trophy, fully aware of the grotesqueness of his predicament and utterly helpless to change it. All that materialized of his anger were two tears of surpressed rage that burned him as they traced fiery trails past his captive mouth.

"Friend, why are you crying?"

The Being's stone face loomed over him, casting an eerie green light that turned everything the color of hopelessness and despair - a sick color, the color of depression, of misery, of death.

Why torture him like this? Why not dissipate the column that held him aloft, and just let him fall into the freedom of that infinite darkness?

Why not...?

"Friend, don't be sad. I will make you smile."

The Being would stretch out a twisted arm, and the spores flowing from GW's trophy would writhe and twist and bunch into misshapen creatures of darkness, which would fall from the Being's hand.

They were dressed like soldiers, akin to what Olimar played with as a child, except they were alive. A childish curiosity shone in their large, ovular eyes. They had one second after creation to glance curiously around before they started to fall.

When they fell, a distant chorus of agonized screams could be heard, as if they were a mile away. Olimar wept soundlessly as they tumbled down, down, into the darkness, until they eventually broke apart into thousands of spores with a sickening splatter. Then they were drawn back up by the Being into the nauseating cloud of writhing, pulsing spores, there to form again as more sad pawns of darkness, and fall, again, again, again...

"See, friend. Look how funny they are."

Olimar was sickened. Nauseated. But the creature was not finished.

After thousands of dark pawns suffered thousands of deaths, they were assembled into trophies. Their motionless eyes were no less curious than when they were alive.

"Our playmates must leave now. Say goodbye, friend."

The creatures would promptly begin to drip with spores, and Olimar looked on as they trickled into pulsating puddles. The creatures appeared to bleed from innumerable cuts, and unseeing eyes were filled with anguish, until they, too, disintegrated.

And always, the last statue would come alive. In its childish way, it wave goodbye as its rag doll body began writhing as if filled with swarms of insects, and crumbling to its base form of spore and darkness.

It would always begin at the bottom, disintegrating from the bottom up as if it were being slowly lowered into acid. Its face was always last, horribly aware of its mutilation. Two tiny tears would well up in its eyes, trickle down its cheeks - and then it was no more.

Every time this happened, Olimar felt he had lost a piece of his soul.

"Do not worry, friend. Your turn will come soon enough."

And then it was morning.

 

[INSANE CARZY GUY]

no not jigglypuff. /i see your back

 

[SS3 Chaos]

Capt. Olimar is Beast!!!!

 

[WB40]

Capt. Olimar is Beast!!!!

At least until Ike fsmashes him.

Wait, I just replied to a no-substance post.

Just have my advice: try to put more words into your posts. Otherwise the mods will rage, and you don't want that to happen.