[center][h3]Men of Action[/h3]
Lvl 9 Goldlewis (85/90), Captain Falcon
[b]Word Count:[/b] 1704 (+3)[/center]

As the Seekers trudged onward and upward through the infested, labyrinthine passageways of the Qliphoth, Goldlewis paid attention mostly to his own progress. He hadn’t been lying back in Al Mamoon when he said he wasn’t much of a climber; it took prodigious strength and stamina to haul a body like his uphill, and for all his herculean might, the veteran was still human at the end of the day. While he focused on staying upright and not slowing down, the younger and more spry members of the team could put down demonic ambushes or marauding parasites. When it came to the various valves that blocked the heroes’ way, more hands didn’t always make for lighter work, and to avoid having too many cooks in the kitchen, Goldlewis happily let the others cook. At the end of this arduous ascent, after all, lay a battle on par -or perhaps even grander- than Red Eye’s rampage across the Sandswept Sky, though personally Goldlewis couldn’t fathom such a thing. Still, if this fight would take almost every Seeker on the roster, he couldn’t afford to take the coming showdown lightly. So for now, he took the climb step by step, keeping pace toward the rear of the pack.

When the path evened out a little and the going got easier, though, Goldlewis could look beyond himself. On one such occasion he found himself traveling alongside a familiar face, albeit one half-hidden in shadow by its owner’s distinctive red helmet. Captain Falcon had joined the Seekers a week ago in Carnival Town, and the veteran hadn’t seen much of him since then. He dimly remembered there being some sort of history between him and some of the other Seekers, related to events that somehow preceded the whole World of Light. Though still mostly in the dark, Goldlewis assumed it must be important. Why else would a celebrity racer join up with a band of heroes out to save the world? Of course, Falcon must not be any ordinary celebrity. He had a remarkably impressive build for a mere racer, with the chiseled musculature of a bodybuilder and none of the functional drawbacks. He also didn’t seem phased by the smorgasbord of horrors housed in the Qliphoth. It all made Goldlewis inquisitive, and with nothing but dead air around anyway, he decided to speak up.

“So, Falcon, is it? What’s some big shot racecar driver doin’ throwin’ his lot in with folks like us?” His tone was not derisive, but genial, conveying his genuine curiosity well.

The Captain couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle. The phrase ‘racecar driver’ was certainly underselling the F-Zero Grand Prix a bit, but he was courteous enough to not be offended by something so minor. [color=1f66b2]”Well, it helps that I do more than just racing.”[/color] Falcon replied, [color=1f66b2]”When I’m not taking home the checkered flag, I’m bringing justice to lawless systems as a bounty hunter.”[/color] He explained with a grin. This was generally considered basic information about him, but he was willing to assume that not everybody was privy to how his own world worked.

[color=1f66b2]”But if you’re referring to this world specifically? Well, in a sense, you could say I’ve… been around the block a few times when it comes to this sort of thing.”[/color] Cap hinted, pausing a moment before clarifying. [color=1f66b2]”A few of us were originally brought together to fight in what you could describe as a sort of ‘Tournament of Champions’, orchestrated by the entity we know as Master Hand. There were originally just twelve of us back then, including me. As well as Mario and Luigi. Some of the other folks like Bowser, Ganondorf, and Princess Peach didn’t come around until later on when Master Hand’s twin showed up to cause more chaos. Well, I always assumed the two were twins anyway, since they looked identical save for Master Hand being a right hand and Crazy Hand being a left hand.”[/color]

“Huh.” Goldlewis couldn’t reply with much more than that at first. The idea that the World of Light wasn’t the first collision between worlds intrigued him. And for a tournament, no less? For the entertainment of whom? From what little he’d seen deep beneath Midgar, Master Hand was more like some eldritch entity stuffed into a giant, inexplicable glove than anyone who’d enjoy pitting people from different realities against one another. The World of Light, at least, seemed to exist at the pleasure of Moebius, the cruel despots at whose whims countless poor souls fought and died. Grim as it was, it made some kind of dreadful sense, at least at ground level. As for the big picture…well, Goldlewis couldn’t really question it at this point. In the end, the ‘how’ and ‘why’ didn’t matter. He had his orders, and that was all he needed.

After a moment Goldlewis zeroed in on the more workable response Falcon gave him. “A bounty hunter then, huh? That explains a whole lot. You ain’t the first tough-as-nails bounty hunter I seen, either. Back at the last G4 Summit, when everythin’ was goin’ to hell in a handbasket thanks to Happy Chaos, a feller by the name o’ Sol stepped in to lend a hand. Sol Badguy, they call ‘im, but between you an’ me he saved our asses out there. Ain’t gonna catch me gettin’ on the bad side of a guy like that, no sirree.” He shook his head to emphasize his point, brows raised. “Come to think of it, from the footage I saw he was a fiery fist-fighter too. If y’all are anythin’ alike, I reckon I’m in good hands, eh?” He reached over and jostled Falcon’s shoulder with his elbow jovially.

[color=1f66b2]”Absolutely. I haven’t met a single bad guy I couldn’t overcome with my trusty Falcon Punch.”[/color] The Captain replied, giving one of his patented ‘nice guy’ thumbs up gestures. Although he had to admit to himself, it was kind of funny for someone saving people's lives to be named ‘Badguy’. He wondered if that was a real name or if maybe it was just a moniker like his own name technically was. [color=1f66b2]”But this Badguy fellow you mentioned sounds like he’d be interesting opponent to go a round with.”[/color] Falcon admitted. [color=1f66b2]”Little known fact about me, the reason I got into racing and bounty hunting was because I’ve always liked to find ways to challenge myself. And taking on outlaws and rival racers in the F-Zero Grand Prix were both pretty good ways for me to do just that.[/color]

[color=1f66b2]”Now, all that craziness I mentioned didn’t stop with Master Hand and Crazy Hand.”[/color] Cap paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, as though he wasn’t certain about the details he was recalling. [color=1f66b2]”We fought a another tough faction once. Came from some other dimension. I think it was called the Subspace Emissary? Admittedly my memory of that particular time is a bit hazy when it comes to the details, though. But if I recall, I think that was when I first met Pit.”[/color]

The Captain’s braggadocious response made Goldlewis wonder if he might have talked up Falcon a little too much with the Sol comparison, but he decided not to rain on the man’s parade. After all, given everything he’d witnessed during his time with the Seekers so far, he couldn’t deny the possibility that Falcon really was as good as he said. Instead he considered what Falcon said about subspace. The word indicated some kind of layer of reality beneath the one he’d consider his own, or maybe beneath all realities. Just as the world’s different countries, no matter how different or isolated from one another, all lay beneath the same sky.

Goldlewis put a pin in that line of thinking as he hauled himself up over a ledge on the slope he’d been climbing, careful not to brush against a throbbing floodfested bubo. After taking an upward hairpin turn, he squeezed past a bushy ganglion and continued on. Up ahead, a handful of parasites crawled out of a fleshy hive, only to be obliterated by the team’s frontrunners. Once he was sure that the danger had passed, Goldlewis spoke again. He couldn’t push aside his thoughts from earlier, especially when he remembered the dying words of Moebius Y. “It all makes me wonder…why? Moebius wants to rule the world, live forever, entertain themselves, or whatever, but they ain’t the ones who dumped this on it. Seems like they’re just maggots crawlin’ around in the pile. Galeem’s just some godlike ball of light, though; it ain’t doin’ much o’ anythin’, unless it’s usin’ all its power just to keep this world spinnin’.” He knew it wasn’t much use posing Falcon an impossible question, but even a meaningless conversation was better than the Qliphoth’s guttural ambience.

The Captain, meanwhile, was having less of a hard time with his climbing. He was quite spry and athletic after all. [color=1f66b2]”Hmm, well, why does the sun shine?”[/color] Falcon asked. [color=1f66b2]”Maybe that’s all there really is to Galeem? A ball of light acting on some kind of cosmic instinct or chemistry? Either way, we’re all here now.”[/color] It didn’t sound like much of a satisfying explanation, the most logical ones rarely were. This was more a case of Occam's Razor being in effect. Possibly. Falcon’s guess could also turn out to be wrong as well, of course.

Goldlewis shrugged. At the end of the day, there wasn’t all that much that could be said. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of much else to discuss with Falcon either, and with the trek getting tougher, he needed to focus on traversal. Maybe he was just getting antsy due to the lull in the action, but the veteran had the sneaking suspicion that the Seekers’ destination was close. Any mission now the team’s mission in the Qliphoth would come to a head, he could feel it, and maybe the Captain could too. The two men quickly lapsed into silence as they tensed up for the final stretch of their upward journey.