Mario froze in his last position after completing a swing at an orange as a loud, drill sergeant-level voice boomed into the reception hall. His blue eyes were wide and lips tensed into a fine line of panic. Oh shit, was that Guile? Untwisting, he lowered the turkey bat to regard the American Hero standing in the doorway with an expression as stern as a mountain’s face. Mario caught the end of his exclamation and quickly hid the turkey leg behind his back and fearfully tensed. Nervously, he glanced around at the other characters, expecting a spiteful Samus or Luigi to throw him into the wheels of the bus. Shit, he expected even Freeman of all people to even squeal but no one did. Mario blinked in disbelief before dropping to a knee and bowing his head in shame. He wept happily to himself. He had such loyal followers fans comrades!

I did sir, Gunnery Sergeant Edward Buck from the 343 Industries kingdom? World? Military profession…I believe you have a job for us?

Mario raised his head with a frown. Wait a second, he didn’t need someone taking the beating for him. He was no bitch!

“Hold it right there!” he shouted.

Mario stood up and leapt into the air. He bounded once, then twice, and on his third jump he performed a full twisting layout, flipping through the air to stick his landing…on a banana peel. He landed flat on his face before the Street Fighter legend and next to Buck, a tear drop slowly descending down the back of Guile’s head as he thought, Who was this clown?

Springing to his feet—in his best attempt to play off his fall—Mario grasped the cloak he had been conveniently wearing (and which also kept all the food mush off of his real clothes underneath) and removed it in one extravagant display. Resting his fists upon his hips, Mario proudly puffed out his chest and announced, “Ha! Itsa’ me Mario!”

He then grinned over his shoulder at the group and told them, “It was me the whole time!” Like they all had been too dumb and oblivious to have figured it out sooner.

Guile looked hardly impressed as he crossed his strong arms before his chest. He opened his mouth to speak when Mario apparently wasn’t finished. The plumber started flexing, his muscles expanding against the blue straps of his overalls and short-sleeves of his red work shirt.

“Who couldn’t recognize this manly moustache?” he gloated—he was very proud of his facial hair. He took good care of it after all.

“Mario!” came a voice from behind Guile just when the Major was about to speak again.

It was Rosalina. The Nintendo goddess briskly ran over to the door to the Reception Hall and peeked past Guile to see that it had actually been the Hero of the Mushroom Kingdom.

“Mario, where have you been?” Rosalina asked and gasped, her hands covering her mouth. “You lost a lot of weight. Where’s Luigi? Did he help you?” She started looking around for his much taller brother and spotted him sitting alone next to some pudding. She also noticed that Samus was in the room. She waved to them both with a bright smile. It was nice seeing heroes of Nintendo.

Mario waved his hand dismissively at the mention of his brother. “Ha! No; I decided that I needed a change of image.” He then curled his arms, flexing his biceps and chest muscles for the goddess whilst wearing what he believed to be his Panty-Soaker 300 of a smile. “What do you think?”

Rosalina’s cheeks flushed and she coyly looked away. “You look great. I’m so happy for you.”

Mario grinned, lowering his arms as he dunked a hand into his overall pocket to remove a photo.

“I think I lost like…a hundred or something pounds. I don’t even know but I was a pretty hefty guy.”

He showed off his Before picture to Rosalina, Guile, and Buck as though they would care.

“It must have been all of that hero worship,” he explained and blushed as he thought of Peach, “And maybe some of the princess’s cooking every once and awhile.”

Guile, no longer desiring to be patient, announced over the chit-chat: “We have some important things to discuss here in the Council Room. If you’re covered in crap, kindly do your best to clean yourselves off before entering this room. If any of you try to enter the Council Room covered in shit, then I’ll personally throw you out. If you fall asleep during my brief, two words…Sonic Boom.”

His eyes then settled on Buck once more. He felt a slight kinship with the man since he served in the military. He offered his hand to him as he introduced himself, “My name is Guile. I am a Major in the United States Air Force back in my home realm. Here, I am an ambassador of the Capcom Kingdom—one of the Seven. It’s nice to know that there is some discipline around here. I need to start the brief. Get everyone inside.”

Guile paused before turning into the Council Room when the bark of a dog @Gentlemanvaultboy sounded in his direction. He glanced over at Amaterasu to give the wolf a stoic look as he wondered, This isn't a damn kennel... before he returned inside the Council Room. He walked down to the end of the round table opposite of the chamber entrance so when the characters trickled in they would be able to see the hologram that appeared above the table. The hologram was a blank, white square that slowly turned as it waited to be used.

"Guess I'm late to the party, huh?" said the hooded man in the doorway. The word "party" was enough for Garrett to draw Quina's interest. After all, as far as Quina was concerned, this was a party in her (or his) honour, and a good host ought to make an effort towards welcoming their guests. Even if, much like Friend Ezio, and Special Chef Naija, and Grey Man Edward, and the wolf, and... well, everyone else, Quina couldn't recall ever inviting them. It was just one of those mysteries of life but, as far as Quina was concerned, life was riddled with inconsistencies that needn't be worried about. Even an inexplicable surprise party was a party.

"No, no, just in time," Quina gestured to a spot on the floor with his (or her) free hand, near Naija and Ezio, while her (or his) other hand carefully balanced the plate full of chocolate pudding that Ezio had just handed over, "soon will be play and hoping it is good and oh! Is starting now!"

Quina fell silent, listening to Guile's little introductory speech about cleaning up before taking their seats to watch the performance and his backstory. Idly eating the chocolate pudding with his (or her?) hands while Guile performed, Quina considered what an ingenious step it was to make the usher a character in the performance. Even if she (or he) wasn't entirely sure what the United States Hair Force was, Quina was confident it'd be explained later on if it was important to the story. Perhaps it was just a way of explaining the ridiculous haircut that Guile had. Either way, once Guile's speech and the chocolate pudding were finished, Quina clapped enthusiastically.

So Quina began to clean herself (or himself) up, with the help of a long tongue. It was not an altogether pleasant sight. Quina engaged in wrestling with his (or her) own salmon-pink overcoat and blue bib to remove them and, having succeeded in beating the wayward clothes into some semblance of submission, Quina proceeded to lick them clean. A few licks later, both garments were mostly presentable, even if the pockets of the coat were still stuffed with bread-sticks and slices of cooked meat. There weren't, Quina considered, any rules against bringing food into the Council Room, was there?

"Need help cleaning," Quina held up his, or her, mostly clean overcoat and bib as an example of her, or his, cleaning prowess, "Friend Ezio? Special Chef Naija?"

"No, no, just in time," The rotund, blobby creature with the long tongue and chef hat said to Garrett. He paused to look it over, mostly out of amusement as, in Garrett's opinion, its strange figure was better suited for a carnival than a castle like this. It continued on about a play and that it's starting now, before watching Guile give a little speech and eating what appeared to be pudding. Garrett tuned most of the speech out, only picking up something about a United States Air Force which he thought was some kind of Pagan myth or something, and approached the blob and its group.

Not counting the blobby thing, the group consisted of the hooded man from earlier as well as the green-skinned woman. Garrett didn't really recall their names, which meant he had either never heard of them or did hear of them but wasn't interested enough to do further research. Pulling down his hood and the cloth covering his mouth, Garrett smirked at the two, then crossed his arms. "Name's Garrett. I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but considering we're all here about stopping this Mugen Virus thing and not to lounge around and sip tea, that'd be a lie.

Before either Ezio or Naija could reply to Garrett, Quina began to lick him/herself clean of the food. Too disgusted to avert his eyes, Garrett just watched in shock and awe as it licked the mess away. Soon enough it was mostly clean, then asked Ezio and Naija if they needed help cleaning. "Too bad I don't have any water arrows," Garrett said, "you'd be spotless in no time. Maybe I'll find some and we can use them later in case you get too messy again." He paused for a moment, then added: "Speaking of, please never clean yourself with your tongue again. It's just so... Eugh."

Naija spotted that the hooded figure in the rafters was descending and then moving towards them, perhaps that was Ezio responding to his name? Quina said he had vanished but he had been up there the whole time she had been here, had they simply not looked up? In the sea, if you were on the floor then up was where 90% of the possible danger could be, not looking up was suicidal. Perhaps that was not the case on land or perhaps Quina’s seeming lack of neck and general obliviousness was to blame.

He arrived, greeting them and handing her a plate of some brown interesting smelling food.

"Here, Quina. For your earlier efforts. And also I think meal time is at a close, so might as well eat while you still can, hmm? The same goes for you, signorina. And a pleasure to meet you. If you haven't already guessed, I am Ezio."

”Ah, thank you for the food, I am Naija, but you probably heard that the first time. It’s nice to met you too.”

She took a small spoon of the pudding and was immediately overwhelmed by it’s taste and sweetness. Sugar cane and chocolate were things she had tasted before, the dish perhaps the sweetest thing she had ever tasted.

”This is, really good. I will need to find out how they made it so sweet tasting”

She slowly worked her way through the desert, savoring every bite and generally unaware of the new arrivals or the commotion around the flat topped soldier until the word Important came up.

“important things to discuss here in the Council Room. If you’re covered in crap, kindly do your best to clean yourselves off before entering this room. If any of you try to enter the Council Room covered in shit, then I’ll personally throw you out. If you fall asleep during my brief, two words…Sonic Boom.”

She was going to suggest they head over just before the bizarre display of Quina cleaning themselves distracted them both, followed by the arrival of a second hooded figure, this one completely black. Stood next to Ezio’s white attire the two looked like something from a myth, two brothers one good, one evil yet with few differences besides their temperament and clothing color. Apart from the collection of sticks the new arrival had slung over their back in a specialized bag, their physical features, accents etc. Ok so it wasn't that good a metaphor but still the image was aesthetically pleasing at first glance.

"Name's Garrett. I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but considering we're all here about stopping this Mugen Virus thing and not to lounge around and sip tea, that'd be a lie.

Oh good, it wasn’t just her that was here about the virus thing. Hopefully that is what the meeting in the Council room was about.

"Need help cleaning,Friend Ezio? Special Chef Naija?"

Well that was a relief that they were done with the rather unpleasantness display of cleaning themselves. She was glad she had finished the sweet dish before they started cleaning, she had now lost her appetite.

”I am quite alright thank you Quina, I didn't participate in this mess so I am perfectly clean thank you”

Completely oblivious that dripping wet did not count as clean.

”Anyway, hello Garrett, I am Naija. I believe we all should be going to the Council Room? It will be nice to know what I am going to be fighting is before we kill it. It’s not really an opportunity I have had before.“

As the narcissistic red plumber admitted to starting the entire food fight (like no one else notice) and began showing off his muscles, Samus simple muttered an inaudible "Pfft" and rolls her eyes annoyingly. She remembers Mario being rather slightly less-muscled during the last Smash Bros Tournament, but his ego is still the same as before. It sickens her. She even notices that Guile wasn't too impressed either. Typical. After all, he is a soldier that trained and endured in actual military bootcamp training. He would surely crush Mario with a single hand of his or something of the type. Thankfully at least Luigi isn't like him at all... egotistically speaking anyways. He is, and may forever be, under the shadow of his brother till his death, that is if no one throws him a cheeky 1-Up mushroom or something.

She then sees the shape of another woman come into the scene behind Guile. Samus recognizes the light-blue dressed, individual as Rosalina, the goddess of the Mushroom Kingdom. The bounty hunter had to admit, she isn't that surprised to see the likes of her around. She also remembers her from the last Smash Tournament as a fighter herself, with a luma as an added companion. Who knew, right? Who know, that she would even think in fighting in a tournament with an already colorful cast of characters? The goddess wondered where Luigi is and spot him beside the bounty hunter herself. She waves towards the two, with Samus giving a light salute of respect.

As Mario continued to brag about his image, even showing his before picture, Samus is simply itching to not pull the trigger on his punk ass egotism. It took all the mental restraint from her to halt her advance, but eventually she is able to hold her fire. All she gave was a look of disgust and annoyance. It's then when Guile invited them all into the briefing room, ready to report them on their first mission. She walks in stoically without hesitation, wiping the orange pieces off her visor before going inside. As she looks at the holographic table, the bounty hunter places both hands on the desk as she looks at the cube that's in front of her.

"So..." she says seriously as she gives off a sigh, "What are we doing on our first mission?"

Dipping his head in acknowledgment of Naija's introduction and thanks, he straightened, raising his eyes to take another good look around. Relieved of both plates, Ezio stayed where he was, gaze traveling from arrival to arrival as they trickled in. The other Heads were expected, so he didn't pay them much attention after the initial glance. His interest was on the hooded man in black robes, dressed as an Assassin from the Brotherhood might, modifications and all. Attached to his back was a quiver of arrows, and Ezio felt a little camaraderie with the man, stranger though he was. Hey, who could blame him? Here was someone who looked like he would fit seamlessly into the Brotherhood, and Ezio was a man who loved the organisation to the core of his being, as well as the people within. Of course, the feeling was still slight and fragile, seeing as he had yet to get a solid read on the man. If his attitude was anything like Guido's, well...Ezio would still work with him, but not associate willingly. He introduced himself as Garrett, followed by a sarcastic quip. Ezio had to suppress his smile. Oh, no. This man was shaping up to be more like La Volpe. Silence and sarcasm both. Ezio inclined his head to Garrett in greeting before Guile's voice boomed out once more.

The threat didn't bother him much, seeing as Ezio had practice not falling asleep during briefings no matter how irrelevant it was to him, all thanks to Michaelangelo and his lectures about a leader's responsibilities. On top of that, he highly doubt there would be any discussions of the prices of wheat and poultry for the next month when there was the threat of the Mugen virus. So if anything, this would be more of a war council than a political debate and he sure as hell wouldn't be dozing off if tactics and strategy were being discussed. Lifting the fabric of his outer robe a little to inspect the overall damage, he was pleased to note the cream had not dribbled a track down to the hem, and clumps of it had fallen off already, leaving only small patches of fluffy cream dotting the surface.

"Thanks but no thanks, Quina. I do not require such...thoroughness, as only a small patch is dirty."

He spotted a stack of napkins at the end of one table, and headed towards it immediately. The stack had been hit by a stray projectile during the initial fight, knocking it on its side and scattering it across the tabletop and onto the floor. Some of it was saturated and dirtied with various food and beverage, but after a few seconds of sorting through the mess, he was able to pull free a couple of clean ones. A few scrubs across the cloth and it looked good as new, even if he could still feel the dampness left behind. Nevertheless, it was the best one could have without washing it, so it was with a mental shrug that he returned, absently wondering if it was possible to aqcuire a new set of robes around here.

"All right, I'm decent. Is everyone decent?" Ezio looked the three of them over, then spread his hands and swept it in an inviting gesture towards the Council room's door. "Then what are we waiting for? Andiamo, before signore Guile truly loses his temper."

Spurred on by the threat of Guile losing his temper, and only slightly disappointed at not being able to get the fluffy cream on Ezio's robe, Quina quickly re-tied his/her bib, pulled on the mostly clean overcoat and set about loading a plate with as much food as a plate could theoretically support. With the aid of some carrot sticks, the plate itself was extended to nearly double it's size, and a rudimentary wall made of mushrooms held together with garlic sauce extended the carrying capacity of the plate even further. There was no semblance of order to the food that disappeared into the plate-turned-bucket, with strata of sugary-sweet pudding resting atop a layer of roasted parsnips, sandwiched between a leafy green salad and a selection of cheeses. Cut open, it'd look like the fevered nightmare of a chef who had begun dabbling in geology. Topped with a flourish of parsley leaves, this horrific culinary construction teetered about precariously as Quina trundled along towards the Council Room.

"No need worry, Friend Ezio, enough food here for Special Chef and Friend Ezio and Qui-"

Quina stopped talking to pay attention as she (or he) shuffled past Guile, studiously avoiding making eye contact with the gruff looking military man in favour of keeping an eye on the wobbling, wavering top of the food tower. A few of the mushrooms were beginning to bulge out as the garlic sauce mortar strained to hold the thing together. Picking up the pace a little, Quina rushed - well, waddled as quickly as he or she could - to the side of Samus and, with a final heaving sound, places the food-tower down on the table. Barring an earthquake, an accident or a vengeful god striking down the tower to punish Quina's hubris, the tower was safe.

"Oh, look, glowy thing," Quina peered up at the idly spinning holographic cube, and, looking for somebody to share in the enjoyment and admiration of such a thing, Quina waves up towards Samus, "see glow thing too? You looking too, yes?"

Naija decided it was probably not a good Idea to drag here cape through the muck if she could avoid it so taking a note from Ezio’s book decided to make use of the rafters to get to the council room. As he and Quina set of she excused herself from Garrett’s company. Then she hopped up against the wall then hopping between it and one of the pillars Ezio had climbed up till she was up in the rafters. She then proceeded to hop from pillar to pillar, board to board, all across the room before landing at the entrance of the room with a slightly damp thud. She rather proudly hops into the room, still lightly dripping the seawater before hopping into a chair next to Quina and examining the room.

She assumed the people who had not been in the banquet hall where with guile in organising the endeavor, 5 human individuals all paling in comparison to the massive gold armor wearing, blue skinned individual with no mouth. There was also the peculiar rotating square in the middle of the room which Quina was clearly enthusiastic about. Was it decorative? Who where these important seeming people? Where even was she? At some point after this meeting she was going to need to find someone who knew and was willing to be bombarded by questions.

She fidgeted, restless and wanting answers but the orange armored individual had already asked why they were here before she sat down, so she had nothing to do but wait, presumably for everyone else to enter and take their seats as well.

---

Buck cringed at Mario's attempt at, well, everything. The only saving grace from all this was Rosalina, who somehow managed to at least pull it out of the hole Mario was making himself. Next was the picture; which, as much as he was happy for him for loosing all that weight, Buck could't help but think how inappropriately timed this was. Buck almost wondered if all Nintendo characters were like this. Buck was glad with Guile spoke back up, listening closely to instructions and proudly took his hand and nodded before heading inside the council room and taking a spot in the back against the wall. Buck was ready for the briefing and mission to get under way.

---

There are some questions that are left unanswered because their answers are not meant for the sane to know... and then there are some questions that are left unanswered because no one has ever really thought that they needed to be asked in the first place. 'How much pudding is required to erase the memory of being licked by a somewhat disturbing creature?' falls under the latter category. The answer as it turned out was two cups. Pudding is amazing like that.

With his sanity restored, Luigi turned his head in order to look at how things were proceeding... and watched as Mario face planted onto the floor. He couldn't help but shake his head a little with a slightly amused smirk at his brother's antics... even if he was still a little peeved that Mario had buggered off to parts unknown without telling him, he was still his brother. Even if he could be... egotistical to the extreme.

Taking a moment to clean his shoes with the handle table cloth, Luigi stood up before taking a moment to look at the various people that had gathered so far... and smiling a little before walking towards the room that the Council was going to be holding there meeting in. Normally he would have steered clear of the creature that had licked him... but his eyebrow couldn't help but raise a little at the woman who was seated next to him. He had never seen her before, but she was a rather pleasant shade of green. Making pains to walk around the licker, he happily took a seat on the other side of the frog woman before offering her a smile and a hand to shake. "Hello. My name's Luigi. It's a pleasure to meet you Miss."

Glancing over at Samus, he would wait until she looked his way before also beckoning her over to take the free seat at his side if she wanted it. Up to her through.

---

Crash, still mostly keeping to himself followed after the others as they seem to trickle into another room. It seemed to be what the imposing military man desired and Crash did not wish to have to face any more of his wrath. He gave a few friendly waves to those around him as he passed by, though ignored the person wearing nearly all red, who seemed to be called Mario. He wasn't exactly sure why but he didn't really like him. The others he still was trying to form opinions on. He only wished that perhaps his sister was around, Aku-Aku was always fine to have around but family would of made this scene relatively easier to digest.

Entering the council room, Crash choose to sit next to the woman who decided to get straight to the point and ask what they were going to do to begin. Aku-Aku resided next to Crash, hitting Crash on the head as he fidgeted around in his seat. Crash mumbled a few lines of gibberish under his breath but got the message kept still though giving a few more waves around the table to all the people he had never seen before.

Naija leaned back in her chair and watched impatiently as the rest of the group filtered into the room. Before if she wanted answers she would set out into the world and find them herself, she had never really had to wait politely to be told things but it was probably rude to pick fights with your host. She was also becoming aware that something that had happened between her capture by her mother had left her memories of her skills rather frazzled, either being repeatedly forced unconscious or the teleporter had left her without most of her knowledge of the verse. That was worrying, her most commonly used combat ability, the Energy Form, was currently locked away from her. She had to hope that she could recover her memory of the notes by getting into situations similar to the ones she had sung them before. Namely violence. She remembered that time she tried to beat a giant ammonite to death with a bolder. that had been a dangerous slog. This was going to be interesting.

In the meantime she watched the others arrive, one of the armored men took a position against the back wall, the red wearing human engaged one of the council in loud decision over some piece of paper, she waved back to the orange biped who who sat down next to the orange armored one and was promptly harassed by the floating mask that had been following him.

Finally there was a rather tall and thin human, with a handsome face and hair on his upper lip (a mustache? Li had jokingly bemoaned that he would never grow one after his transformation). Who was wearing a green and blue outfit and a matching hat with an L on it. She was wondered what it stood for when he sat down next to her and introduced himself.

"Hello. My name's Luigi. It's a pleasure to meet you Miss."

His name then. She placed her slightly damp small hand in his offered gloved and politely shook it.

”It is nice to meet you too Luigi. I am Naija. um”

she floundered around mentally for a conversation topic, anything to stave of the boredom of waiting.

“They specifically invited heroes here, so, if you don’t mind me asking, what makes you a hero?”

She hoped she could learn a bit about the character and deeds of those she was going to be working with, Aquaria was not a good place to learn outside information about these other kingdoms. All she had was vague inscriptions from dead civilizations and Li’s rather outdated information he conveyed in his rather poorly learned version of her language. Actually it was surprising all these surface dwellers from all these kingdoms spoke that language as well. Weird.

Over the entire establishment, a sort of smoky haze hung without cease. Though not particularly obnoxious by itself, it lent itself completely to the place’s atmosphere. Its air was a unique cocktail mixed from vintage class, impeccable style, a dose of stuffiness, a hint of grandeur, and an ever-so-slight note of delirium. Breathing it in might remind one of a boozy pool-hall, but there the similarities ended. Instead of broken dreams, this hall reeked of old-world pomp. It swirled propriety and manliness into a concoction found nowhere else but its founder’s distant memories. Rather than drunks, ne’er-do-wells, vagabonds, curs, and other such swill, it catered to gentlemen. Throughout the uncrowded rooms they could be found, clad in suit jackets, suspenders, ascots, cummerbunds, clogs, top hats, bowlers, flat caps, and even a kilt or two. Canes, pocketwatches, monocles, and mustaches were in abundance. They played cards, swapped old stories, smoked, sipped aged liquor, and -of course- fought.

One such fight raged now. A burly, mustachioed mountain of a man sparred a stick-thin, slick-haired speedster. The former’s boxing style hadn’t yet managed to land a hit on his younger, goatee-wearing contender. In any other establishment, such a bout would have been an unruly brawl worthy of contempt, but here, things were very different. With every punch, a miniature cyclone of wind spun around the boxer’s arms, and to dodge each knockout blow the speedster moved so quickly he turned into a pinstriped blur. After all, the duels fought at this Gentlemen’s Club embodied skill and refinement a step above the level of ordinary humans. With fingers folded into a tent, the club’s owner watched the fight from a luxurious red-cushioned seat on the fringe of the main room. Contrary to what most might think given his reputation, he did enjoy observing these friendly duels greatly. New styles of fighting never failed to interest him. In the bigger picture, however, they weren’t the reason why a smile of contentment adorned his face whilst he puffed his pipe. Here, in his little corner of the world lost to time, Slayer felt truly comfortable.

A white shape caught his eye. Last time he checked, the smoke in his club wasn’t nearly thick enough to form a cloud—particularly one with eyes. On second glance, Slayer spotted a bizarre animal perched atop it. His wife Sharon, seated by his side, noticed as well. With one eyebrow wordlessly raised, he watched the thing approach him. When it floated only about a foot away, the yellow turtle-create handed him a letter. He scanned it. ”A hero, am I?” he murmured at length. Glancing at Sharon, he passed it to her so that she could also read. ”A most interesting proposition. I’m not anxious to go and deal with someone else’s trouble when there are so many young things chomping at the bit to be heroes, but perhaps this would be an opportunity to observe something truly amazing. Besides, I could use some air. May I go, dear?”

Sharon smiled. ”You may, darling. Enjoy yourself!”

Slayer leaned over and the two shared a kiss. Then he stood, adjusted his tie, and selected the ‘yes’ option. A moment later he was gone, and before the dust had a chance to settle, there came a loud thud as the speedster hit the floor.



A castle, completely empty, replaced the fight club in Slayer’s view. ”How uniquely…bland. Oh?” It did not take him long to notice the others, with more appearing every second in flashes of white. He laid eyes upon several soldiers of various levels of technological advancement, a white wolf, a plumber, a female gremlin, an assassin in black, an assassin in white, and several creatures that defied classification. Anthropomorphic animals, Slayer decided, was the best way to describe them. Some looked downright silly, but none so much as the diminutive, oddball orange thing plodding his way. The vampire couldn’t understand Q-bert, but he could recognize a summons when he heard one. After taking a puff of his pipe, Slayer placed his hands in his jacket pockets and followed at a leisurely pace.

Soonafter, he found himself in a sort of banquet hall. Some of the people who Slayer supposed must be fellow heroes set to eating, whilst others set to meeting and greeting. Bereft of an appetite, he walked until he was decently far away from the others, then pulled out a chair that he angled away from the table before sitting. Curiosity needled him, but he felt no rush to get answers. Nobody else paid much attention to him, so he returned the favor, thinking about the letter’s contents while his fingers rested on the sides of his pipe. Alas, this proved to be a mistake, for when the food fight started, he knew neither how nor why until a large globule of cake riddled with fragments of turkey sailed his way. The incoming projectile perked him up, and as it bore down upon him he wondered why a perfectly fine piece of desert would be airborne. Just before it splattered against his suit, he released his pipe with his teeth and exhaled sharply. The resulting cloud of smoke completely blocked the confection, and it dribbled miserably onto the floor. Now intrigued, if not amused, Slayer turned his attention back to the general assembly and discovered to his shock a full-blown food fight. In response, he could only heave a heavy sigh. ”I hope I have not been invited as a chaperone,” he murmured. That would be a feat of heroism too costly for my blood.”

Soon after, a pair of doors on the other end of the room opened. Slayer immediately turned to see the new arrivals. Much like the group of heroes, there didn’t appear to be a common theme. Virtually all appeared to have different ‘styles’, to go by art terms. From this consistency, Slayer felt as though he was beginning to intuit something important. Those responsible for the mealtime catastrophe attempted to right themselves, but one of the soldiers got Slayer’s attention by accepting fault for the proceedings. He couldn’t afford Buck much notice before one of the food-fighters made a spectacle of himself with a series of flips ending in a flop, then revealed himself to be someone named Mario who he clearly expected everyone else to be familiar with. Once that was out of the way, however, a brawny fellow with excellent hair took charge of the situation, informing the heroes of their next destination, and to prepare themselves for it. Being able to boast a faultless appearance, Slayer stepped forward to join the meeting.

Another table lay before them, and the vampire wasted no time sitting at it. Of all the heroes present, he was one of the first to do so, though he wondered if the others might view him as unsociable. He placed his pipe back in his mouth before producing a monocle that he then put into place. The thought of getting answers, as well as mature conversation, after such a sorry scene gave him a pleasant countenance that he showed to all present before saying a simple, ”Good morning.”

---

Ammy cocked her head at the order to get cleaned off, which was easier said than done when you were coated in a whole buffet. To that end the offer she heard the pale thing @Hylozoist make was actually slightly tempting, but only slightly. She didn't much care for a regular bath, a tongue bath would probably be even more unpleasant. Luckily it helped her in a different way.

As it turned off away from one of the new arrivals, who looked like an inhabitant of the dragon palace that had decided to evenly distribute the fish traits rather than the strict half-and-half divide of the regular mermaids @DracoLunaris, and headed toward one of the tables she followed after it.

The towering abomination it constructed there was an impressive feat of artistry, but more importantly it cleared off this area of the table of most of its food. As it wandered of toward the council room she hoped up onto it. Pushing the mostly empty dishes aside, some clattering noisily to the floor, she flopped down on the semi=spotless tablecloth and had a vigours roll round. She didn't get everything off, and the resulting multi-colored mess she left behind could be hung in a gallery and passed off as a piece of high art, but it was the best she was going to be able to do without needing a scrub down or literal tongue lashing. Grumbling she rolled off the table and trotted into the council room, but sat patiently by the door. When the man in black @SuddenSardines made his entrance, she'd stick close to him.

Gordon froze as he caught sight of the large man in a green tank top, dropping the ruined pieces of fruit in his hand. He slowly stood up and snapped to attention on instinct. He always did that when he was faced with someone in authority. He recognised the man as the one who had more or less stopped the food fight simply by shouting at the top of his lungs. The man, was, of course, Guile, Capcom's head. A blonde woman in a blue dress had followed him in, but Gordon failed to recognise her. He would have to find out later. Meanwhile, Mario was desperately attempting to save everyone in the room by reverting to his, uh, chipper personality.

“We have some important things to discuss here in the Council Room. If you’re covered in crap, kindly do your best to clean yourselves off before entering this room. If any of you try to enter the Council Room covered in shit, then I’ll personally throw you out. If you fall asleep during my brief, two words…Sonic Boom.” Guile said, getting impatient with Mario and the woman's talking. Gordon didn't know what this 'Sonic Boom' was, only that it sounded really, really painful. Fearing that, Freeman picked up a paper napkin from one of the intact tables and began to hastily wipe off the cream and jam from his armoured legs.

“My name is Guile. I am a Major in the United States Air Force back in my home realm. Here, I am an ambassador of the Capcom Kingdom—one of the Seven." Guile introduced himself to those who didn't already know. "It’s nice to know that there is some discipline around here. I need to start the brief. Get everyone inside.” Taking the cue, Freeman nodded as he wiped the last bit of filling from the orange metal, and tossed the paper into a nearby bin. Sure, it wasn't exactly clean, but it was good enough to pass off for good. He had taken the time to give his HEV suit a proper cleaning in White Forest.

Gordon noticed some new arrivals, namely a man dressed in black, some weird human-animal hybrid, a woman with green skin and webbed feet, and a muscular man with brown hair and glasses. Normally, Freeman would give them a friendly greeting, but he was pretty sure it was time for business, and only gave each of them a polite nod.

As Samus inspects the glowing cube with a slight curiousity, she then hears the purple blob next to her peer up to her, also saying something about the object at hand.

"Oh, look, glowy thing... see glow thing too? You looking too, yes?"

The bounty hunter sighs as she nods, producing a fake wondrous look. She nods her head rapidly with her eyes slightly more opened to be more convincing to the creature.

"Ahh ahh, yes yes..." she responds with "wonder" and surprise, pointing to it twice until rolling her eyes, and peering the other way, "*Pfft* ... fascinating."

With that, she leaves the table as she tries finding a seat. The closest one is one next to Luigi, the "comrade" who helped her in the food fight. Out of everyone here, the only two heroes Samus feels comfortable around, or at least those she deems likable, are Luigi and the newcomer Freeman. The former is quite friendly and rather rational, unlike that of the rather "brutish" and "egotistical" older brother. He's a rather decent fighter too, but is slightly more cowardly then Mario. Regardless, it's a normal and common trait amongst many people, something that can be overcome. The latter, while also being friendly, is also practically mute, meaning that Samus certainly doesn't have to worry about him being a loud-mouth. And then there's Guile and Rosalina and so on, but they are on a rather different level.

Samus then proceeds to walk over sit next to the green plumber. After noticing the other new contestants come into the room, she then sees another rather strange individual talking to him. She looked aquatic-like, with webbed fingers and feet, as well as those on her ears. She also sports white hair, covered in scales, and is more scantily clothed. She is also quite short, standing at perhaps no taller than 5 feet. The bounty hunter hears something coming from the individual.

”...What makes you a hero?"

An interesting question indeed... ish. Samus soon gets in talking range between the two as she slightly overshadows Naija, her armor faintly shining in the artificial light from within this room.

"What makes you, for starters?" the bounty hunter responds casually, but almost orderly, as she takes off her helmet, revealing her neon green hair once again. It was getting a little stuffy in here anyways...

---

A diminutive figure sat upon a muddy draft horse, observing the Tetris Castle from the crest of a hill. She and the horse had paused to contemplate how they had gotten there... it certainly was no easy getting there through the cables and wires and circuits of the video game world.

The horse snorted and pawed the ground with its clay-caked hooves.

"Verily, Mudsdale! We are close," the young lady declared, gazing towards the castle with her moony eyes. "It's just a short promenade away indeed; we shall be there within the half-hour."

Mudsdale, the horse, neighed and looked up at its rider.

"It won't be long now. Clearly this summons must be important," the rider declared, adjusting her purple bonnet. She was the Poni Island kahuna, Hapu, and she was ready for duty.

Hapu's thoughts drifted back to that morning, when her grandmother had given her an exquisitely-sealed envelope. In it were instructions addressing a crisis that would affect the entirety of the game world.

Being no stranger to crises despite her young age, the well-traveled kahuna responded promptly, saddling Mudsdale up and preparing to travel.

"Will you be safe, my dear?" Hapu's grandmother had asked.

"I shall stay safe, Grandmother," Hapu said. "Fret not; the holy Tapu Fini did not choose me as a farce."

Hapu and Mudsdale had to travel via ferry to get to any sort of game terminal, and from there, it was a trot, a skip, and a gallop to the hub of the seven kingdoms. Hapu hoped to learn something as kahuna from this whole ordeal.

These were Hapu's thoughts as she stood on that hill atop Mudsdale's back.

"The day isn't going to get any shorter," Hapu said, gently knocking the sturdy horse's flank. Mudsdale snorted, nodded, and started off in a trot down the road, towards the castle. Mudsdale picked up a leisurely speed, galloping at a steady gait. Hapu's black hair trailed behind her, as her eyes looked up with the sheer determination of an island kahuna.

---

Hapu knew there was no time for any pleasantries or social what-not; the air around the castle was that of business. One job after another; thankfully, Hapu was used to that.

"Mudsdale, you will have to return to your ball," Hapu said. "I'm quite positive they will not appreciate mud tracked on their floors."

Mudsdale gave an unhappy grunt.

"Fret not, my friend! You'll be out and about again in no time," Hapu said, stroking Mudsdale's muzzle. She dusted off her pants, and put Mudsdale in its capsule, before spotting several other of her fellow game characters and following them into the briefing room.

Immediately she overheard Super Mario talking about a food fight, and spotted the other characters sitting at the table. She produced the envelope she had received on Poni Island and held that in her gloved hand as she took a seat next to Naija. (She had to hang on to that; those in the higher echelons tended to be condescending to the short in stature and young of age. Even to a kahuna.)

"Good day," she said, nodding to Naija, Luigi and Samus. "I am Hapu; I presume you are here with the summons as well?"

Hapu placed Mudsdale's Poké Ball on the table; she wanted her Pokémon to hear whatever the council had to say.

"What makes you a hero?”

Luigi blinked a little as he was asked this question. It... wasn't exactly the kind of question that one expected to be asked from someone that they had only just met but his brow narrowed with thought as he considered his answer carefully none the less. "Just to clarify, are you asking about what traits I have that I believe make me a hero or are you asking after my own achievements?"

Turning his head to gaze at the now bare faced Samus, Luigi couldn't help but smile a little; While a part of it was to do with the fact that Samus was an insanely beautiful woman, it was mostly because of the fact that he liked the feeling of her having his back in a given situation. Before he had the chance to say anything else through, a new arrival appeared to speak to their little gathering.

While he had never seen or heard of Hapu herself before, the device that she placed on the table was something that he had seen plenty of times before in the Smash Arena. "Pleasure to meet you Hapu. I'm Luigi and this is Samus and Naija." There was no harm in making introductions after all, right?

The Hunter could only blink in surprise as Mario came forward in a flourish and took the...credit for this display of waste and foolishness. Granted, he had started it, but the Hunter just wanted this stupidity to be over. If there was a hunt to be had, than they should have gotten to business a while ago. It was hard to see how this man could apparently be such a legend. The man that the whispers called "Guile" ordered everyone into the briefing room. Making sure his gear was proper and prim, the Hunter took notice of a few stragglers before walking through the door.

The Hunter paused as he reached the door. Looking to the side, he noticed that the wolf-woman @Gentlemanvaultboy seemed to be waiting for him. He stared at her for a few seconds before shaking his head. "I suppose you're going to be following me. then?" he asked her. He shrugged. "I don't suppose I have a problem with that." To be honest, the Hunter was rather curious about her. While she lacked a similar smell, this woman somehow felt similar to the Great Ones.

The Hunter chose to sit down near one of the stragglers who came in; the one in the professional gray suit @Lugubrious. His countenance seemed similar to that of a hunter. He even had a strange scent to him that reminded him of a Cainhurst hunter. He gave the man a curt nod, before sitting down. Maybe he would finally be able to hunt something soon.

"What makes you, for starters?"

"Just to clarify, are you asking about what traits I have that I believe make me a hero or are you asking after my own achievements?"

Ah, there was the question effectively turned back in her face, no chance to gauge the audience before speaking of herself, which is what she had hoped for. The arrival of the small(smaller than herself even, though with her crouched hopping gait she would still be the lowest to the ground in a lineup) gave her an opportunity to mull it over as Hapu sat down next to her and Luigi introduced them all.

”Hello Hapu. If your talking about dealing with the Virus then yes, we where summoned for that. I believe they are about to do a bit of exposition on the subject shortly”

She shuffled her chair back a bit to let Hapu so she wouldn't have lean forwards to speak past her if she wanted to say something to the others. Then she turned back to the 2 question askers with her response.

” I guess I’ve never met someone who could be called a hero. Honestly, I wouldn’t really have considered myself one till the cloud turtle appeared and was told there was a meeting of them that I was invited to. So I guess was trying to find out what the definition of a hero was in terms of this meeting, what I can expect from the people I will be fighting along side.”

She scratches the back of her head.

”In a sense your question outlines the 2 of the 3 general possible answers I was expecting you to give, and which you think makes a hero. But are people here because they are heroic in character, because they have been hailed as a hero or because they have faced down evil and prevailed? Why someone they think they are a hero is maybe a good indication of character, are they proud of their deeds, honored by their people or self assured of their noble motives”

She leaves that hanging in the air a bit before blushing

” “It was also a really weird question to try and get to know you… sorry, you and Samus reminded me of some Lumerean scriptures I read in their ruins, I think you were mentioned in them? They seemed to liked to wax philosophical about stuff like ‘what makes a hero’ when they weren’t writing about praising the sun or their weird machines, so it kind of put me in that mindset. Um to answer you Samus, I think it’s because I have… kill monsters and things that have done great evil, but more because they were in the way of the answers I sought than because it was right thing to do. But I am here now, so maybe I can fight for a world where the people still live. For all worlds I guess because it is a good thing to do.”

Also because the summoning let her escape mothers imprisonment. She left that bit out, it could make her look weak or not committed to this task. She watches them, legs swinging as she nervously awaits their response to here ramblings.