Sunday, February 21, 2010

The following crazy crossover fanfic is for my good pal BobTheDarkOne/Recess Rapist, because it is his birthday. We were chatting and then he mentioned WOW MAYBE THIS PAIRING WILL BE AWESOME BECAUSE THEY BOTH HAVE LIGHTSABERS.

Anyway, I don't know what I've written either. Masked Man is pretty OOC, but I am going to blame the fact that I have been reading Tatsumairi doujinshi.

Title: All In A Day's Work
Summary: Travis' next mission is not what he expected.
Pairing: Travis/Masked Man
Warnings: Strange slash, M3 SPOILERS, cussing.
Disclaimer: NMH belongs to GHM and Mother 3 belongs to Nintendo, amongst other folk.

---

Jeez, peace in its most extreme form is not ideal, thought Travis as he hopped off the bizarre little bus he had taken from Santa Destroy all the way to this strange place. He had forgotten what this place was called - that is, until he looked up and saw a large sign - New Pork City. "Sounds pretty fruity to me." He muttered to no-one. And fruity it was; with its colours and bright lights flashing non-stop, there didn't seem to be a single corner that was touched by darkness. He had never been to a city quite like it before.

Somehow, he felt an odd desire to walk around, get himself on one of the several Ferris wheels. See the whole city from up high. Travis guessed it was his, ahem, rather immature nature shining through. But he couldn't spare the time – there was a reason he was here.

He recalled how Sylvia had called him up late a few nights ago, telling him in her smooth voice about how she was sending him on a little excursion to some weird place thousands of miles away. It wasn't a ranked battle, but she had supposed Travis would be bored when he wasn't killing people, or something like that. He wouldn't need to pay for this match either. “Think of it as the bonus stage, yes?” She had chirped. He accepted without question.

This guy he was supposed to be assassinating, King Porky, looked like he had made quite a name for himself. A full city named after him. Kids and their mothers alike all totally pleased with how fantastic a ruler he was. Not to mention all the soldiers dressed in pig head-shaped helmets.

Wonder if he can get any? Travis snorted to himself, realising shortly after that he sounded like a pig. How fitting. He groaned.

He eventually found his destination, a gaudy, impossibly tall building. The sign on the front showed the words: 'Empire Porky Building'. Trying to make his way inside, he was stopped by a man in a rather formal outfit, a long moustache reaching down to his chin. “Hold it there, son. I'm going to have to ask what your business here is.”

“Me?” Travis pointed innocently at himself. That particular moment didn't really call for balls-to-the-wall action. Too many kids around. Carnage was going to have to wait. “Just a tourist.”

“Go on ahead, then!” The guard smiled kindly. “I mean, there was no way I was expecting you to say that you were an assassin or anything. That would be pretty silly, huh?”

“Definitely. Yep. Well, thank you.” Travis stepped past the waving guard, his beam katana knocking comfortingly against his leg as he strolled towards the elevator. He had a feeling he didn't need to worry about the guard anymore anyway. He seemed pretty incompetent.

Travis entered the lift alone, pressing the button next to a little gold plaque that read 'Throne Room'. He figured that of all the places in this goddamn building, the guy would probably be there. Hopefully with a harem of women.

Licking his dry lips, his hand moved automatically towards the katana on his waist as the lights on the elevator display blinked closer and closer to a capital 'T'. 'T' for 'Travis'. 'T' for 'Touchdown'. It was like he was destined to be there.

So as though he was reaching out, ready to grasp this opportune moment - to spill blood, to impress Sylvia, to do all those things he had been living for thus far - he jumped out from behind the lift door, the beam of his weapon flashing.

He had expected... something. But the empty, lavish room was devoid of all life, betraying his expectations. No bodyguards rushing to restrain or beat him senseless. No fat, grinning King Porky (as he had been led to believe from all of those posters and statues scattered around the city).

And of course, no babes.

Travis sighed loudly, his voice bouncing off the marble walls, taking a seat on one of the steps leading up to the massive throne that sat on a platform at the back of the room. I guess I could've gotten the wrong room, he thought to himself as he pulled the worn, leather glove off his right hand, rubbing his calloused fingers. Now, where else would a King be...

But it was a mistake to be distracted, as Travis realised just in the nick of time that something was swooping down towards him. He evaded whatever it was, rolling over to the side while grabbing his katana, its blade extending as he pressed the small button on the side. No way in hell could an animal be that big...

It wasn't an animal, but a pint-sized man. Or rather, a kid. A kid with strange, mechanical wings was wearing what looked a lot like an aviator's suit, complete with a helmet and a visor that masked his face. “Now I've seen everything,” Travis muttered, scrambling to his feet and holding his katana up, ready to strike. The kid drew a weapon very similar to his own.

“Did you come here to kill Master Porky?” He asked, hovering in midair, his voice surprisingly deeper than what Travis had been expecting. Maybe it was a man after all. A midget.

“Well, yeah. I'm an assassin, so don't get in my way!” Feeling oddly pleased at his rather macho taunt, Travis lunged forward, his leg muscles contorting as he prepared himself to perform a jumping slash. But the Masked Man dodged easily before propelling himself towards the assassin, his sword skimming dangerously close to his face. “Goddammit, that wing shit is cheating!” gasped Travis, struggling to regain his composure.

It was a little hard to do so, what with this crazy guy zooming around the room too quickly for Travis to keep up. However, for him, pussying out was not an option. He knew that he had to complete this mission – if only to impress Sylvia.

But of course, this was all before he saw the Masked Man aiming at something above his head. And gravity worked against him. Somehow, his consciousness faded before he could feel any pain.

*

When Travis awoke, his first reaction was to grope at his waist and at the ground beside him for his katana. After all, that freak might be standing right above him, ready to deal the finishing blow.

What seemed like forever passed, and Travis finally gave up and opened his eyes, ready for a fatal injury. Nothing happened. All that he could sense a change in was his physical condition. His chest ached when he breathed, and a sharp pain shot through him as he tried to sit up.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” The suddenness of the warning and the realisation that the Masked Man was sitting on the stairs not three feet away from him, albeit even in the same room as him, made him yelp in surprise.

The Masked Man sighed, as though he was used to such a negative reaction from people, fumbling at something wrapped in plastic. He soon pulled a serve of hot dog sushi out of the packet, tossing it at Travis. “Here. I can tell you don't live around here, so... it'd be cruel to make you crawl all the way home with those broken ribs of yours.”

Travis stared suspiciously down at the strange item of food in his hand where he had caught it.

“It's not poisoned, ok? If I wanted to kill you I would've done so by now.”

“Then why didn't you?” Travis asked, stuffing the sushi into his mouth. “I thought you were supposed to protect the King or whatever. Aren't you afraid I'll come back and kill him for real?”

The Masked Man's mouth curved into a smirk. “I know you won't.”

“Fucking hell.” Travis sat up properly this time, feeling much better than he did a minute ago. “What kind of an assumption is that? You don't know me or anything.”

“Hmm.” The Masked Man scanned Travis, as though re-evaulating his previous comment. “Well, you're wearing a shirt with ten year-old girls on it.”

Travis gaped at him. “Wh-what the fuck does that have to do with anything? If I had my katana I swear to god I'd -”

But then much to his surprise, The Masked Man walked over to him, just so that he was face to face with the assassin. Even stranger yet, he planted his lips firmly on Travis'.

“Mmmf!” Travis flailed his arms wildly. He was sure there was some sort of law regarding this kind of thing, especially now that since the Masked 'Man' was so close, he was sure that he was younger than he expected. He could only imagine jail time.

The kiss eventually stopped and Travis wiped his mouth thoroughly while the Masked Man stared at him, a smirk still plastered on his face. “If you're wondering why I did that... I guess it's just amusing, guys like you. The depressing sort. Guys like you... I don't think you can get any, can you?”

“Don't pity me, fucking kid! You're too young to think about that kind of shit.”

“Hahaha.” The Masked Man chuckled, and in the way the light caught his visor, Travis could see his gleefulness beaming through the single eye. “You know, I like you. You make me... forget my worries.”

The Masked Man threw Travis his katana and his leather glove. “Oh, and don't forget these.” Smiling once more, he vanished before his eyes.

Travis was left sitting upright in the middle of the throne room, utterly confused. It was only after a few minutes had passed that he finally willed himself to stand up and walk over to the elevator, ready to leave New Pork City, wondering how he was going to explain his defeat to Sylvia.

“... Goddamn.”

END

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