scriptdeviant

[scriptdeviant]

Pepperman, stop making that Mii paint. He's now six feet tall and he's starting a villain arc and I'm highly concerned,

❝ You lost me at 'stop making him paint'. ❞

[scriptdeviant]

he doesnt deserve to be a fucking FATHER

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" ... You tell him! "

" No, you! "

" No, make him do it ! " " Why's it always gotta be . . . ? Fine. . . "

The whispering group dispersed, pushing a reluctant Dee towards their returning leader. He could anticipate less than pleasant news as he watched Captain Vul drift further behind the group. Meta Knight gripped the edges of his cape and wrapped them around himself in a vain attempt to soften his appearance. Sailor Dee readjusted his cap and sharply inhaled.

" ... Remember when we said we fixed her? That wasn't ... entirely ... " Sailor Dee shuffled back, pressing their nubs together. " The truth. "

Something Meta Knight put together ages ago, but never the heart to mention.

Though she'd taken substantial damage, The Halberd managed to return for the final stand against that wretched computer. His crew spared no expense restoring the mighty airship ... Even if it meant having to sacrifice her functionality. Since then, he'd been able to handle every threat against Popstar with His Majesty and Kirby — turning the Halberd into a shockingly low priority for the knight.

Damn the stars. It's his fault.

❝ ... This is unacceptable. ❞ His cape disappears as his wings stretch high. ❝ See to her maintenance while I neutralize the threat. ❞

The crew snapped to a salute, and wished him luck.

[scriptdeviant]

I wanna bf that has a life like those characters from fast & the furious and he come home n I bandage his knee and urge him to b careful out there bc I’m pregnant

[scriptdeviant]

so anyway kirm told me to stay off my multi

[scriptdeviant]

He got a bit carried away..

[scriptdeviant]

Fake's hand, dishearteningly, stops short of the embrace. The Artist's questions are somewhat answered when their eyes briefly lock as Fake Peppino turned away. He'd been so drawn into the other's dark charisma that he hadn't considered —— Nearly forgotten —— How the beast had started. Stilted, clumsy, and barely able to ask for a self portrait . . . He won't call it nostalgia, but.

Fake Peppino continues to shift anxiously, as if its waiting for Pepperman to say something in approval. When his dough completely unglues itself from the tub, Pepperman leans a little more in. He's no scientist —— but nothing can be worse than the time his Precious Pizzahead Piece was snatched out of his hands and chewed it up like a rabid dog. He'll confront Noise about it la ——

❝ Is . . . ❞ Pepperman's words trail off. He's no scientist, but that thing floating there surely can't be . . . ? Something within beats faster, but he can't determine if its terror, anticipation, or an awful blend of both. Hands rest over the edge as he takes a closer look with a persistent, empty-looking grin. He takes a deep breath.

. . .

❝ . . . Are you OK? ❞ He finally speaks. If Pepperman's in a state of shock, then he can't possibly imagine what the other is going through. ❝ My muse . . . ? ❞

Eye contact.

Fake Peppino remains eerily still, outside of the dough dripping off of him and the gradual tensing up of his form as Pepperman approached. There's a lot going on in those sunken eyes. Many emotions the other certainly wasn't accustomed to seeing within the clone in their many modeling sessions.

He got so wrapped up in the casualness of the moments that the idea of some sort of unexpectancy putting a cog into it all came out of left field. But. That-- No, Peppino was used to that, wasn't he? He would've been shaken but fine. Right? Right??? What is a Peppino, anyways? Peppino didn't do this. He didn't. He didn't--...

Scared. That's what Fake Peppino was, in this moment. Even at the others pretty. Understandable and justified question. Despite not being angry, he expects it. He's going to be mad he's going to be upset he's going to be--...

Pupils gradually focus on the others hand. Then back at Pepperman. Then back at the others hand. From the awkward 'why the hell are you covering the entirety of this ornate tub' position he was in, this all seemed a bit silly. Maybe a bit comical. Yeah, he would. Be questioned about this. A melty, doughy hand seems to reach out for the others, but he stops short.

"..."

There's a lot of shame. In his eyes, upon proper inspection. There's no pride here. No smugness, no ego. It was jarring, despite the other being the real thing a clone of the most pathetic man alive. Something internally relents, however. He's going to see it anyways. Fighting back would just delay the inevitable. Make it worse. More and more worse.

'Zucchini' pulls back, putting a doughy face into equally doughy hands as he holds back pathetic blubbering as the contents of the tub are revealed. Yeah. Uh huh. That's a lot of water. What were you expecting, like-... Well, okay, there's one other thing, in there. Is it like. A bowling ball? No, despite the size and the roundness it's floating, so it c...

...

Oh.

That's an egg. Like. Full stop, that's just a slightly reddish tinted and large frog egg, right there.

[scriptdeviant]

[scriptdeviant]

" BUT DID YOU DIE? "

"Poyo."

Translation: Meta Knight you already humiliated yourself the second you got your big stupid 'wow what a fucking narcissist' dinky ship out and about all of those years ago because the denizens of Dreamland had a 'lazy life style'. You could've rationalized your reasoning to him post-mortem when you were on more casual speaking terms, explained your mindset.

But Kirby will never forget how you and your crew aimed a huge laser beam gun cannon at him and threw a giant lobster at him, because 'laziness bad'.

[scriptdeviant]

Meta Knight's silence is only deafening, as his cape drifted in the breeze. He believed the other worth of the title when they met . . . But as Galacta Knight continued to hiss and curse, the galaxy's shooting star began to have his doubts. He drew his blade, pointing to the other as if to challenge him . . . Only to slash Galaxia down to his side instead.

❝ . . . ❞ Indeed, he cannot handle the trouble alone. But to confess that to the other may mean more trouble for Dreamland's protector. (Plus, it'd be humiliating.) The other's tone makes his answer clear, anyway: Galacta Knight isn't interested. To change that would mean to waste more time here . . . But his voice acts in spite of his urgency.

❝ If that is your attitude . . . Then you've no right to call yourself a Knight. ❞ To speak so callously, as if there was nothing the other could do . . . as if the rest of the people on this planet didn't matter . . . Meta Knight could only turn away, wrapping himself within his cape once more. ❝ And I was right to take that title. ❞

Because at least he can use it better.

Meta Knight his grips his cape, revealing his wings. He had every intent to leave the other with his own misery, to wallow in his own failures but . . .

❝ . . . Were it your home, I would not hesitate to act. ❞

He can't help himself.

Like a ghost, haunting over me for years.

If Galacta had the ability or the disposition, he might've laughed at the cruel irony of it all, at how deeply those words resonate within himself.

Something is wrong. Something is wrong. A voice whispers, one that has steadily faded over the eons, but has yet to vanish altogether. You know this. You must do something.

Must I? I have no duties anymore. Another voice - much louder, much closer to his own - growls back. They made so very clear.

"I have yet to hear why exactly this is MY problem." Galacta's answer is loud. Loud enough to block out the voices, he hopes. Not once does he allow his lance to dip lower, not once does the grip on his shield falter. Not once does he look away from Meta Knight's eyes. "So you already know your enemy-- nothing stops you from dealing with them yourself, then. Surely the Strongest Knight In The Galaxy can handle this on his own? Lest the burden has already become more than you thought you could handle, that is."

A title meant to be held with pride is instead thrown, spat out like the vilest venom between them. Galacta would never acknowledge his former title from the other, otherwise.

[scriptdeviant]

:)

[scriptdeviant]

OK, I'm going to catch up on things instead of playing MKWii Online. sorry y'all.

[scriptdeviant]

I forgot what the punchline was going to be

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[scriptdeviant]

Meta Knight stays silent as the tension between them only grew. The lance does nothing to flinch him, but . . . He can't underestimate the other. He takes a stance, but does not reach for his weapon. Instead, he puts his hand out.

❝ . . . I sensed something wrong in the air long before the surge of power. ❞ Meta Knight began. ❝ Like a ghost, haunting over me for years. ❞

Familiar, yes. A familiar power. A dreadful, dreadful curse. One it took his majesty, his majesty's servant, Kirby, and he himself to defeat. It had not poked it's head on Popstar in years, so . . . Why now? And if so — would he be enough?

❝ My men last tracked the energy at RAISIN RUINS. ❞ Meta Knight continued. ❝ I believe it belongs to a past adversary, but . . . ❞ His voice stopped for a moment. ❝ Do not underestimate him. ❞

@scriptdeviant said:

❝You felt it too, didn't you.❞ The caped swordsman speaks from a cliff high above, before dropping down to meet the other. He wrapped the fabric around himself, keeping his distance from the other. He knows his presence isn't welcome — but are petty rivalries the thing to worry about when his home is at stake? ❝You will investigate this with me. I am not asking. ❞ . . . Maybe just a liiiitle bit.

YOU.

Galacta Knight does not utter the word out loud, but his entire body - from the ominous spreading of his wings to the tight grip on his lance to the cosmic fire in his eyes - seems to spell it out for him. The other's presence 'not being welcome' may be a...massive understatement.

And yet. Despite every cell of his body demanding, screaming for a fight-- Galacta is not deaf to his rival enemy's words. He is also not deaf to the demand placed upon him, which honestly does not win the other any favors if the way his winged feathers bristle as the other descends to be on equal ground.

"Has your title already gone to your head, knave." It's phrased less like a question and more like an insult spit out. The lance is pointed with one hand, the shield held tight and close with the other-- magenta eyes so bright and intense they might as well be blood red. "You have no right to demand anything of me."

And yet. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't concerned curious-- power recognizes power. And it is abundantly clear that the other knight knows more about it than he does.

"You might as well explain yourself. Only then, will I consider whether it is worth my time to get involved or not." And just because this is not his home and therefore he CAN afford to be petty, he adds with narrowed eyes: "Alone."

[scriptdeviant]

Something just happened.

[scriptdeviant]

But . . . Fr. My family has been nothing but awful to me my entire life. If I didn't have those three I don't think I would've been able to stand up for myself. It feels stupid, semi-inaccurate and embarrassing to be like " I'm a runaway " at 24 but. It was time to cut them off. I lost my sense of self. I didn't even think I mattered as a person for the past ten years. I thought it was just normal for some people to not get angry you know.

They were also super shitty to my irl partner like!! Kept trying to get break up with him!!! And kept ignoring me when i told them to stop!! And just super invasive and eugh.

These past two weeks have taught me a lot, but most importantly that I matter even when I don't have anything to give.

hey guys i grew the fuck up and now i'm BACK baby

thanks @eternasci and my hubby and also @emptyzone too because woa h