07-13-2018, 11:35 PM
After leaving Blues behind for the moment, the only things Mickey wanted to do were go to the dojo and practice, or go to his room in the barracks and sleep. Instead, he got intercepted by some Dante’s Abyss interns and swept into a press room in front of a crowd of reporters.
“Excuse me, Mr. Mouse!”
“Mickey, welcome back to the tourney!”
“Are you excited to be one of the final twelve primes in the winners’ bracket?”
The mouse king’s eyes grew a bit wide and he leaned forward, tapping on the microphone to test it out before speaking. “Um, is that true, pal?”
An intern leaned forward and whispered in his big ear and confirmed that yes, in fact, he and Kanda had made it to the quarterfinals. While they’d been shuffled off to make commercials with Dwayne, a dozen fighters had been kicked to the consolation bracket. Now, in the blink of an eye, they’d somehow managed to get far enough into the competition to matter to journalists. In this moment, Mickey wondered if would’ve preferred to keep his anonymity.
After answering a few mind-numbing questions about the competition and dodging a few about the pair of women he and Kanda were up against, the gaggle of interns finally ushered him out from behind the podium and back through a door that, ostensibly, led back to the preshow facility proper.
What he found on the other side, though, was much more than he could’ve imagined.
“Oh gosh,” he muttered as he stared at the crowd of fans, being kept back just barely by one of those velvet rope thingies. He progressed down the makeshift red carpet, occasionally posing for a picture or signing an autograph for one of the many secondaries on the other side of the barrier. They clawed for his attention, as he was sure they clamored for any of the fighting primes that passed through -- and Mickey had to admit, the fame felt kinda vindicating.
Back on Cinnabon, the council of Pokepeople claimed they didn’t remember him. Since coming out of hibernation, he’d felt altogether useless. But now, in the span of one battle -- climactic though it may have been -- he seemed to have regained his magic. The Mickey Mouse of olden days, the one who’d swooped into Minnie Mouse’s castle and her heart all those years ago with his trademark charm, was making a comeback. And now, with Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson’s help, he was going to snag his former glory full force, and maybe help the former pro wrestler gain a little bit of his self-confidence back, too.
He continued down the line, signing and selfieing until he found himself looking up at a pair of big, slightly familiar blue eyes, about a half a foot taller than him.
“Mr. Mickey Mouse!”
Mickey blinked. “Little Susie?”
“Yeah!” the little girl replied. Her brunette pigtails bounced on her head as she shoved an autograph book in his face. She smiled a big smile, and Mickey wondered how she’d even gotten into this facility. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old, if that. Tentatively, he reached out for the book and looked at the strange doodles on the page of he and Minnie. He flipped to the cover to see their mugs staring back at him. Kinda creepy, but he took her marker and gave it the ol’ John Hancock nonetheless.
“My mommy brought me here after you beat that nasty king man,” she blabbered excitedly, “and she said we could come here and try and get your autograph and then sit somewhere around here and watch your fight on one of the big huge screens they got and…”
“That’s cool, Susie,” Mickey giggled, handing the autograph book back to the little girl and patting her on the shoulder. “I hope you’re still rooting for me!”
Susie beamed. “Oh, I am,” she nodded furiously. “You still got my keychain?”
Mickey’s brow quirked. That’s right! The lucky keychain she’d given him right before he signed up for this particularly weird iteration of the competition. He reached into his pocket and dug around, hoping past hope that it hadn’t fallen out at some point during his fight with Gilgamesh and Desman, and sighed the biggest sigh of relief when his four gloved fingers wrapped around it. He squeezed the thing, a smile forming on his face, and pulled it out, holding it up for little Susie to see. She bit her lip, clearly thrilled.
“Oh, yay!” she squealed, leaning over the barrier and once again wrapping her arms around Mickey Mouse. The murder of interns leapt into action, each grabbing a different limb of Susie and yanking her off the competitor, but rainbow energy swirled around the mouse’s hand and he gripped his keyblade, raising it to one of the intern’s throats.
“It’s okay, Fellas,” Mickey said, his eyes narrowing, “she’s good.”
One of the interns scowled, then signaled for his cronies to let the little girl go. Susie, whose positive demeanor had never faded even as she’d been manhandled, grinned at her idol as the group of young secondaries backed off.
“I’ll let you get back to your busy stuff, Mr. Mouse,” little Susie smiled, taking a step back. “Good luck in your next fight! Keep on winning, okay?”
Mickey nodded. “I hope so, kid. I hope so.”
Eventually, Mickey Mouse escaped the horde of adoring fans and made his way back to his little mouse-sized bed in his room in the barracks, plopping down on it. Kanda would surely be back soon from his extra excursion with Dwayne, and when he arrived, the pair of heroic warriors would have to spend some time warming up for their fight against Whirlygig and Yuuky Kazoomba.
The mouse’s fingers twirled little Susie’s lucky keychain in his hand, tracing the plastic forms of himself and his wife, captured from back in their prime. Back when they’d had no worries. He missed that time, and he missed Minnie. No matter how fun this competition got, he still couldn’t wait for it to be over, if only so he could see his lady love again. Something told him a time was coming when he wouldn’t see her nearly as much as he wanted to, and he wanted to try and get a visit in while he could. Besides, she needed to see Blues again now that they’d been reunited!
As he played with the keychain, his eyes trailed to the end of his bed, where the box Karl Jak had brought to their trailer sat. The Syntech logo printed on the outside betrayed the corporate showboating of this event, and for a moment, it struck Mickey just how much he was playing into it, now that he’d come around and didn’t think it was absolutely the worst thing in the entire Omniverse. He sat up, and crawled the length of his bed down to the container and slid off the top. The contents remained pristine.
His eyes flitted up to the door. Any minute now, the stern-faced exorcist would walk through that door and they would suit up for the next fight. What would come next? Their destiny, he guessed, whatever that may be. Whatever it was, he hoped it’d make Dwayne proud.
And he hoped it’d make little Susie smile.
“Excuse me, Mr. Mouse!”
“Mickey, welcome back to the tourney!”
“Are you excited to be one of the final twelve primes in the winners’ bracket?”
The mouse king’s eyes grew a bit wide and he leaned forward, tapping on the microphone to test it out before speaking. “Um, is that true, pal?”
An intern leaned forward and whispered in his big ear and confirmed that yes, in fact, he and Kanda had made it to the quarterfinals. While they’d been shuffled off to make commercials with Dwayne, a dozen fighters had been kicked to the consolation bracket. Now, in the blink of an eye, they’d somehow managed to get far enough into the competition to matter to journalists. In this moment, Mickey wondered if would’ve preferred to keep his anonymity.
After answering a few mind-numbing questions about the competition and dodging a few about the pair of women he and Kanda were up against, the gaggle of interns finally ushered him out from behind the podium and back through a door that, ostensibly, led back to the preshow facility proper.
What he found on the other side, though, was much more than he could’ve imagined.
“Oh gosh,” he muttered as he stared at the crowd of fans, being kept back just barely by one of those velvet rope thingies. He progressed down the makeshift red carpet, occasionally posing for a picture or signing an autograph for one of the many secondaries on the other side of the barrier. They clawed for his attention, as he was sure they clamored for any of the fighting primes that passed through -- and Mickey had to admit, the fame felt kinda vindicating.
Back on Cinnabon, the council of Pokepeople claimed they didn’t remember him. Since coming out of hibernation, he’d felt altogether useless. But now, in the span of one battle -- climactic though it may have been -- he seemed to have regained his magic. The Mickey Mouse of olden days, the one who’d swooped into Minnie Mouse’s castle and her heart all those years ago with his trademark charm, was making a comeback. And now, with Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson’s help, he was going to snag his former glory full force, and maybe help the former pro wrestler gain a little bit of his self-confidence back, too.
He continued down the line, signing and selfieing until he found himself looking up at a pair of big, slightly familiar blue eyes, about a half a foot taller than him.
“Mr. Mickey Mouse!”
Mickey blinked. “Little Susie?”
“Yeah!” the little girl replied. Her brunette pigtails bounced on her head as she shoved an autograph book in his face. She smiled a big smile, and Mickey wondered how she’d even gotten into this facility. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old, if that. Tentatively, he reached out for the book and looked at the strange doodles on the page of he and Minnie. He flipped to the cover to see their mugs staring back at him. Kinda creepy, but he took her marker and gave it the ol’ John Hancock nonetheless.
“My mommy brought me here after you beat that nasty king man,” she blabbered excitedly, “and she said we could come here and try and get your autograph and then sit somewhere around here and watch your fight on one of the big huge screens they got and…”
“That’s cool, Susie,” Mickey giggled, handing the autograph book back to the little girl and patting her on the shoulder. “I hope you’re still rooting for me!”
Susie beamed. “Oh, I am,” she nodded furiously. “You still got my keychain?”
Mickey’s brow quirked. That’s right! The lucky keychain she’d given him right before he signed up for this particularly weird iteration of the competition. He reached into his pocket and dug around, hoping past hope that it hadn’t fallen out at some point during his fight with Gilgamesh and Desman, and sighed the biggest sigh of relief when his four gloved fingers wrapped around it. He squeezed the thing, a smile forming on his face, and pulled it out, holding it up for little Susie to see. She bit her lip, clearly thrilled.
“Oh, yay!” she squealed, leaning over the barrier and once again wrapping her arms around Mickey Mouse. The murder of interns leapt into action, each grabbing a different limb of Susie and yanking her off the competitor, but rainbow energy swirled around the mouse’s hand and he gripped his keyblade, raising it to one of the intern’s throats.
“It’s okay, Fellas,” Mickey said, his eyes narrowing, “she’s good.”
One of the interns scowled, then signaled for his cronies to let the little girl go. Susie, whose positive demeanor had never faded even as she’d been manhandled, grinned at her idol as the group of young secondaries backed off.
“I’ll let you get back to your busy stuff, Mr. Mouse,” little Susie smiled, taking a step back. “Good luck in your next fight! Keep on winning, okay?”
Mickey nodded. “I hope so, kid. I hope so.”
* * *
Eventually, Mickey Mouse escaped the horde of adoring fans and made his way back to his little mouse-sized bed in his room in the barracks, plopping down on it. Kanda would surely be back soon from his extra excursion with Dwayne, and when he arrived, the pair of heroic warriors would have to spend some time warming up for their fight against Whirlygig and Yuuky Kazoomba.
The mouse’s fingers twirled little Susie’s lucky keychain in his hand, tracing the plastic forms of himself and his wife, captured from back in their prime. Back when they’d had no worries. He missed that time, and he missed Minnie. No matter how fun this competition got, he still couldn’t wait for it to be over, if only so he could see his lady love again. Something told him a time was coming when he wouldn’t see her nearly as much as he wanted to, and he wanted to try and get a visit in while he could. Besides, she needed to see Blues again now that they’d been reunited!
As he played with the keychain, his eyes trailed to the end of his bed, where the box Karl Jak had brought to their trailer sat. The Syntech logo printed on the outside betrayed the corporate showboating of this event, and for a moment, it struck Mickey just how much he was playing into it, now that he’d come around and didn’t think it was absolutely the worst thing in the entire Omniverse. He sat up, and crawled the length of his bed down to the container and slid off the top. The contents remained pristine.
His eyes flitted up to the door. Any minute now, the stern-faced exorcist would walk through that door and they would suit up for the next fight. What would come next? Their destiny, he guessed, whatever that may be. Whatever it was, he hoped it’d make Dwayne proud.
And he hoped it’d make little Susie smile.
![[Image: 2agonyw.png]](http://i68.tinypic.com/2agonyw.png)