(Hello, everyone! How's everyone doing?
Being both a Fire Emblem fanatic and a Smash freak, I was quite ecstatic to see that Ike was going to be in Brawl. After playing for about a month, I've finally worked up enough inspiration to write something!
What this is is a cross between a collection of oneshots and an official Ike-centric multichapter story with a disjointed plot. With that said, Ike is not usually quite as clueless as I write him, and I apologize for OOC characters.
All characters except Snake © Nintendo
Snake © Hideo Kojima)
Chapter One: Preventative Measures... Or Something Like That
"Oh, please. Another one of you cheapskate swordsmen?"
The scathing comment was acknowledged only by a brief turn of the target's head, followed by a questioning glance.
"Yeah, you. What, aren't you man enough to fight on your own?"
Ike turned to fully face Captain Falcon, a plastic cup clutched loosely in his gloved hand as the bluenette stared at the sneering fighter.
"What? I thought swords were allowed in the tournament..." the newcomer began, his navy eyes reflecting his genuine naivety. "Was I wrong...?"
"Only sissy cowards use swords," boasted the veteran racer. "They can't rely on their own strength to sa--"
"Falcon, who are you heckling this time?" a female voice called out crossly, reaching the mens' ears seconds before its owner seemingly materialized at Ike's side. "Haven't you got something better to do with your time?"
"You have to be strong to be able to use a weapon," Ike frowned, the band around his head beginning to slip over his eyes. "If you haven't got the power, you won't be able to wield the weapon properly, and then it becomes usele--"
"Enough of that crap!" Captain Falcon scowled. "And you, Samus-- don't take sides on this! This has nothing to do with you!"
Samus rolled her eyes before sauntering off, searching for someone... normal to talk to.
"You-- you think you're stronger than me?"
"Can you lift this sword with one hand?"
"Then I challenge you to a battle, right now-- no weapons! Prove that you're as tough as you really are!"
"Don't be a fool, Falcon," Link chuckled, walking by just in time to overhear the challenge. "Look at him. He could probably crush you with one hand!"
"Alright. I'll accept your challenge."
Those four words cast a deafening silence across the room; not even the faintest whisper of astonishment escaped an amazed Smasher's lips.
"You... you seriously accept?" Falcon finally laughed.
"Yeah," Ike nodded again, seemingly oblivious to the potential danger.
"Alright then, let's go."
With confidence, Captain Falcon began striding towards the Arena...
"Hey, hold on! Where're you going?"
A sudden collective murmur shattered the silence as all eyes, including the challenger's, turned towards the swordsman, who had just set down his drink.
"I thought we were fighting! Where are you going? What's wrong with here?"
The murmur swelled into a cacophony of surprised gasps and excited, hushed gossip as Captain Falcon did a slight double-take.
But his surprise did not last long; he soon righted himself, approaching Ike with an overconfident smirk on his face.
"Fine, then," Falcon scoffed, stopping a few feet away from Ike. "Don't blame me if you wake up with a broken nose."
"I won't hold it against you," the swordsman smiled as a clearing quickly formed.
"Ready..." Fox called out, taking on the role of the referee. "Set... FIGHT!"
Like lightning, Captain Falcon's fist went flying towards Ike's face. It was barely dodged, but the sudden duck caused the defender to stumble backwards briefly. Without a pause, the punch was followed up by several more...
"This isn't fair," Peach commented to Zelda over the excited cheering of the other Smashers. "Captain Falcon is faster than all of us; Ike is just... slow. He doesn't have any time to react!"
"I agree," Zelda nodded, "but Ike was the one who said to fight here--"
A collective cry of surprise startled the women into silence; immediately, they leaned over, trying to see what happened-- a difficult task with Donkey Kong in the way.
"Marth. Marth!" Zelda hissed, capturing the prince's attention. "What just happened?"
"Come over here and see for yourself!" he replied, sliding over to give the princess somewhere else to stand. Zelda hurried over, watching the fight--
Or rather, she stared at the result of the fight.
Blood trickled from small cuts across Ike's face; the swordsman held his side, grimacing slightly in pain as he slowly shook his left fist. A dark ring was already forming around his left eye; it wouldn't be long before it was completely black and swollen shut.
Yet he was the one still standing... and Captain Falcon was the one that lay sprawled out on the floor, unconscious, blood pouring from his badly broken nose.
As soon as the shock wore off, a throng of Smashers crowded around around their fellow fighter, speaking in excited, yet hushed, questions and musings.
Samus was the only one who took the initiative to ask Ike what, exactly, had happened in the brief, almost nonexistent interval of time between Falcon's final punch and Ike's finishing blow.
"Ike..." she began, almost afraid to ask. "What... how did you do that?"
Ike simply stared at the blonde woman, his blue eyes wide and innocent.
"I punched him."
"Yes, I see that--" Samus sighed exasperatedly. "Okay, that was a stupid question. Why did you just suddenly punch him, and how did you manage to hit him? His speed is--"
"His speed means nothing. He left himself open, and I took advantage of an opportunity," Ike explained patiently, picking up his drink and sipping slowly. "As for why I punched him... it was much easier than kicking him. I just wanted to end the fight before he hurt himself, that's all."
The blonde woman could only stare in disbelief as Ike slowly shuffled off, still loosely clutching his side.
"...before he hurt himself... Riiiiight..."
(End chapter one.
So, Ike's logic confuses Samus. That's okay; Ike's logic confuses me too.
The next chapter will be up... hopefully soon. It depends on my workload.
If anyone has ideas for pairings, I'll listen; but keep in mind I may refuse to do it for personal reasons, or because it may interfere with the slowly developing plot.