[center][color=lightblue][h1]Donnie[/h1][/color][/center]
[center][h2]Word Count: 1,963[/h2][/center]
[center][h3]EXP: 7/30 + 3 = [b]10/30[/b][/h3][/center]
[center]Note: This was a collab between me and [@Lugubrious]. [/center]


Donnie hadn’t even gotten to get inside the clown-shaped robot when someone managed to activate a self-destruct sequence (why would anyone want to install a self-destruct sequence in that thing anyway?), and hadn’t even gotten more than fifty feet away before the weaponized truck he wanted was turned into little more than a pile of scrap metal and a scorch mark on the ground. He wasn’t that far from the blast, so he got thrown at least a good few dozen feet away by the shockwave, leaving him face-down in the dirt. He hadn’t even been able to roll to mitigate some of the damage, he was thrown so fast.

“Owwwwwww…” he managed to groan out, before he painfully pushed himself to his feet. Thankfully, the armor wasn’t dented from that impact (probably because he had landed on soft dirt instead of a rock or something), but that did nothing for his temper.

Thankfully, he managed to restrain himself from walking right over there and beating the shit out of Jak and Daxter, who seemed to have gotten into the robot without his knowledge.

But, sometimes the solution wasn’t conflict, nor to butt heads with your allies. He had enough equipment as-is, and would probably have needed to figure out the controls for that thing anyway. Hell, he might’ve caused the same effect in the process of figuring it out.

Besides, if the clown put a self-destruct button into a vehicle that was clearly his pride and joy, what else was waiting in that truck? He would’ve been better off not knowing.

Without another word, he hopped on the Disc and flew off after the convoy.

[center]* * *[/center]

Donnie arrived a little later than Tora and Poppi, slowing the Disc to a halt and smoothly getting off of it, palming it like a skateboard before he reduced it down to an orb and put it in the Luggage.

Looking around at the gas station, he noticed quite a lot of interesting types here. He saw red eyes on all of them, so they were clearly all under Galeem’s control, but it seemed his brainwashing was more subtle than he realized, since they weren’t attacking him, much less Tora, who was striking up a conversation with the managers.

On the one hand, he kind of wanted to crack some heads and free them right now. On the other...well, one look at the white-haired man and the four fancy types they were talking, much less the helmeted driver by the futuristic pump, told him to back off. 

The first rule of adventuring was to never get into a fight you can’t win. Many, many foolhardy adventurers had gotten killed by the likes of gnolls, kobolds, and bandits because they went in unprepared. And that was before you took into account large-scale adventuring missions, like five-man, ten-man, and twenty-five-man quests.
What really interested him, however, was the muscular man’s vehicle. It reminded him an awful lot of the kart that Ratchet and Clank were piloting earlier. Was that kart meant to be some kind of copy of this futuristic hovercar?

While the argument that the white-haired guy and the four fancy gentlemen were having about this ‘Qliphoth’ looked like it would make an interesting quest for sure, they were all brainwashed anyway and he didn’t want any of them to turn on him at a moment’s notice. The last thing he needed was to head off with this adventuring party only to get backstabbed.

But talking cars with the helmeted man seemed a lot safer, so he walked over to the guy and sat down next to him, saying, “Hey, that’s an awesome car you have there.”

After glancing up from his magazine, the pilot briefly affixed Donnie with an examinatory glance. His visor hid his eyes, making them look like glowing white triangles, but they seemed to hold no malice. A second later, his chiseled features showcased a wide smile. “Hehey, someone’s got good taste! Although, it’s not really a car. More of a high-powered racing machine. Would you believe me if I told you it maxes out at a four-fifty kilometers an hour?” He gave a chuckle, realizing he’d let his enthusiasm run away with him just a touch. This man, clothed in medieval armors and garments, was surely a world apart from even the vehicles he himself deemed archaic, let alone his own. “Uh, let’s just say it’s the fastest thing around and leave it at that, huh?” He struck Donnie’s shoulder with a light, jovial punch, more of a tap than anything. “So, you into racing? Or just the hardware? Name’s Douglas Jay Falcon, but most everyone calls me Falcon.” A gloved hand extended to shake.

Donnie shook the pilot’s extended hand. “Well met, Falcon. The name’s Donovan Lee, but you can call me Donnie.” He laughed a little afterwards, saying, “And don’t worry, we’re not [i]that[/i] primitive where I come from. We [i]do[/i] have spaceships, tanks, giant war robots and lots and lots of magic.” He summoned the Luggage, pulled out the orb for the Disc again, and threw it to the ground to his right, revealing the Disc. “That there’s what I prefer to use. It gets a pretty high speed, but I’ve never measured it. The thing doesn’t have a speedometer, after all. It flies, but it can’t break the sound barrier or anything. Titan-forged flying machine and it can’t even break Mach 1! Kinda disappointing, really. But I can fire chi attacks from it, so it works for what I need it for.”

“Hey, not bad for a start!” the Captain reassured Donnie.

He looked towards the Blue Falcon, saying, “Thing I’m wondering about is that our group has a go-kart we found in a scrapyard that looks just like that racing machine. Was the design licensed out or something? Are you famous back home?”

Falcon rubbed his head, though the helmet prevented it from doing much good. “I don’t know about go-karts, but I’ll admit I’m preeeeetty famous. Bounty hunter turned racing champion, a superstar known across worlds! And wouldn’t you know it, I’m humble too!” His hearty laughter rolled across Hammerhead. After composing himself, he looked out at some of the new faces that had glanced his way. “Friends of yours?” he asked, curious. “Odd-looking bunch.” Falcon zeroed in on a familiar face and pointed it out. “Bowser. I know him at least from the tournaments. Not that we’re pals or anything. He’s kind of a jerk.” With narrowed eyes he scanned everyone else, but recognized nobody. In a cruel turn, Peach escaped his notice, thanks to her changed appearance. “So what’re you all up to?” The man seemed to hold nothing back when it came to conversation; he practically oozed confidence and geniality.

“Tournament, eh?” Donnie said. While the Bowsermobile was one thing, Bowser was no slouch in fighting either. This tournament that Falcon had been in could’ve been either fighting or racing, and for what he had planned, it didn’t really matter which since the man could clearly do both. He grinned mischievously. “Tell you what. I’ll tell you what we’re up to if you can beat me in a fight. We’ll do it a mile away from the gas station, just in case it gets ugly. What do you say?”

Were it not for Falcon’s helmet, Donnie would have seen his eyebrows furrow. “...You serious? You want me to fight you just to get a conversation? Sure, I fought in a few tournaments, but those were official competitions, not brawls in the desert. Plus, if the public caught wind of me doing something like that, I’d be done for. I’ve got a reputation to uphold, you know?” The Captain leaned back, a little put off by the proposition.

 "Eh, fair enough," Donnie replied, looking a bit embarrassed, but quickly recovering, "I was just looking for an excuse to test my skills. I like friendly bouts, and old habits die hard. Sorry about that." He shrugged. 

"Long story short, my group is headed further into the Land of Adventure. At least that's what we call this region after one of us mapped out this world from a spaceship. We come from Peach's Castle to the northwest."

“Anyway, these tournaments,” Donnie continued. “How exactly did you end up fighting Bowser? Multiversal shenanigans?"

The apology and explanation set Falcon at ease, and after a shrug he replied, “Something like that. There’ve been five Smash tournaments, and every time one’s in the works, these sealed invitations get delivered to participants. Then we’re pulled to the spot where it’s being hosted. Last time, it was this land of [url=https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Qbhf7naEgGo/maxresdefault.jpg] castles and waterfalls[/url]. Real pretty.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “Other than that, details are scarce, but there were places from all sorts of world to fight on. Kind of like this place.” He gestured broadly to the surroundings, indicating not just the Paved Wilderness, but the whole world. His eyes settled on the everpresent Galeem, far off in the sky. “I was there when this whole thing happened. Wasn’t fast enough to stop it, or even get away.” Briefly, a bitter look took hold of his face.

Understanding dawned on Donnie’s face as he stared at the point of light that caused all this. He turned back to the Captain, saying, “Well...what if I told you our group is aiming to kill that thing and return everything to normal?”

Falcon said nothing, but Donnie could tell he had the man’s attention.

“A little pink puffball named Kirby managed to escape Galeem’s wrath, avoided getting brainwashed like the rest of us. And you.” He materialized a Friend Heart, showcasing the cartoony object in all its pink glory. “This here’s a Friend Heart. It’s what Kirby used to free us. Long story short, it’s let us act against Galeem and given us our free will back. Keep in mind that his control is subtle enough that none of us knew we were under the influence until we were freed.”

“I can free you, if you want. You don’t even have to join us if you don’t want to. I’d have to beat the shit out of you and then throw this at you, but it would work. I can heal you right up after the fact, though you won’t remember exactly how you got here. The benefits are obviously worth it though. What do you say?” He dematerialized the Heart as he spoke.

Frowning, Falcon stood up. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not under any control, and my will is my own. I’m me, same as always.” He crossed his arms. “And I’m still not fighting anyone, but if anyone’s going to be doing any beating, it’d be me, bud. As for this Galeem thing, I’m fine on my own, thanks. I’m more of the solo type.” A glance went the way of the Blue Falcon, confirming that the mechanic’s work was just about done. Falcon gave Donnie a stiff nod of farewell before heading its way, leaving the car magazine he’d been reading on the bench.


Donnie power-walked over to him, using his Windwalking to catch up quite quickly. “Just one more thing before you go, Captain. When you get the chance, take off your helmet and look in a mirror. Red eyes are the hallmark of Galeem’s influence. If they’re not there, then you’re good. Just know that you won’t get very far if you [i]do[/i] have them.” He turned around, craning his neck back one last time. “Good luck, Captain.” He watched the man shake his head in disbelief, and give a parting wave. With that, Donnie headed back over to Tora, to see if he was done talking to Cid and Cindy.