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pinkestmenace · 6 months

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Thoughts on Dark Meta Knight

A continuation of 'Thoughts on Shadow Kirby'. This is a long one!

TL;DR: I first talk about his relation to Taranza and Sectonia, then comes the fic I 'accidentally' wrote, then I talk about his (mirror) abilities and relation to Meta Knight (or rather, his inherited memories.)

Have you ever noticed how whenever people talk about the whole Dark Meta Knight/Dimension Mirror/Taranza/Corrupted Sectonia issue, it's always "Taranza must hate DMK so much!" and never "DMK must hate Taranza so much!" or even "Why did Joronia/Sectonia keep a magical mirror that clearly oozed bad vibes?" (Note: I'm neither saying Taranza is a poor uwu boy who did nothing wrong nor that he is evil incarnate. He didn't know DMK was in there nor that the mirror had lingering corruption. I am however saying he was a fool for stealing an important magical artifact! All three were hurt here.) I mean, come on. Sectonia is an individual with agency. You're telling me she just placidly accepted this whole situation and only gets to serve as an "Evil queen needs to die!" and "Woe is Taranza, his beloved is dead!" plot device? She could have been corrupted/replaced by her own reflection! Maybe she was as interested in studying DMK/this weird danger orb in 'her' mirror as he was in corrupting her.

That is, if he did corrupt her. Who's to say he wanted that? Or had the ability to, other than by speaking? We've heard nothing about him having corrupting magic. Besides, what would he gain from it? Sectonia could've already been somewhat unhinged before she got the mirror and this was just the beginning of a domino effect. Remember, the mirror you fight him in in Triple Deluxe seems to be the one that was in the middle of the Central Circle, not the entrance of the Mirror World. That's the one Dark Mind was hiding out in and judging by how destroyed it still looks inside it's also the most likely place for any corruption to linger. (Luckily for the other inhabitants, I'd say. Not so lucky for him or poor Shadow, who in DMK's absence was likely left alone to defend the Mirror World and therefore grew more agressive like we see him in other games. He had no allies and no choice but to learn to fight.) I think that Shadow spawned when Kirby first entered the mirror, but DMK was likely around at least a little longer than that, judging by how he seems to have a pretty good grasp on his abilities already.

So. Since Triple Deluxe is clearly inspired by fairy tales, (Consider the Dreamstalk/beanstalk, a palace in the sky and a wicked beauty-obsessed queen with a literal magic mirror!) why not spin a little tale of our own?

I want you to imagine being Dark Meta Knight for a moment.

Mirror, Mirror, From the Sky — Who's the Wickedest and Why?

Once upon a time a dark force secretly infested your world. Depending on how long you've been around, you either spawned as a flawed clone, or you got to feel yourself being corrupted. You may not even know who you are, other than what the wisps of your inherited memories and skills tell you. Either way, the heydays of good fortune, friends and fair weather are nothing but a burning memory to you.

Dark Mind, the force calls itself and it takes an interest in you, since it could use a strong henchman. Now you have this flaming eyeball breathing down your neck, playing at being your master and ordering you around. Tsch. Do you dance like a pathetic little puppet? Do you plead with it using the fancy words you find on your tongue, but did not learn yourself? Do you obey to save your own skin, or resist and risk having your mind broken and hollowed out further? Do you have it in you to become a double agent? You are a scared toddler who only just learned how to walk. You are a hardened knight who has no patience for this. The armour you wear shows traces of battles you haven't fought. You cling to it in preparation for what's to come.

It sends you to go remove some obstacles. A pink child and your own doppelganger. Fueled by bitter resentment and childish petulance you dare to bend your orders just slightly. Rather than rend the child into pieces, you refract him into four. Rather than sending your doppelganger back to his maker, you lock him in with yours and break the mirror to prevent his escape. (As well as Dark Mind's escape, that is.) Your master is angry. That's fine. You're already wrong and broken and don't give a crap.

Eventually the child and his refractions fix and enter the mirror and your master gives you an ultimatum. Twice it told you to get rid of the brat and twice you have failed! Now, to prove your loyalty you must put your life on the line. Beat the brat. At any cost. Surrender is not an option! You shed the veneer and take out your frustration on the child. But he's too strong. You can feel your body give out! You remember how to beg. "Master, please, I can't take any more!" It's no use. Its fiery gaze scorches you, it widens the cracks in your mind and forces you to continue, miserable marionette that you are.

You shatter and your consciousness fractures. Where did you go so wrong? Why did this have to happen to you? What will become of that strange charcoal child you saw stalking you? You want to go home. That home isn't yours. What does your counterpart think? Like the allegory of the prisoners and the shadows on the cave wall you don't know more than what little you can infer. His flickering gaze is unreadable. There is no cave. You are the shadow. You have no idea what philosophy is.

??? days later you somehow wake up. You get your bearings. You're still in this ruined miniature dimension, but your master is gone. You're alone. Tsch. Figures the brat and your blue bastard of a counterpart would abandon you. What's wrong with them?! (What's wrong with you? Are you really that disposable? Maybe they didn't know you still had life left in you either. Did they mourn for you?) At least the mirror portal is right there. You'll go back to the Central Circle, find something to eat and then you'll plot your revenge against the world that failed to welcome you! You just have to step out...

...into a large bedroom. You look around. Fancy furnishings that would befit a palace. A breathtaking view of the rising sun, which drapes the room in purples and oranges. It hurts your eyes. You look down. A vanity? Where the Shards—

You don't get time to think before a piercing shriek rends the air. You look to your left and see a strange spider-like creature charging at you, wielding twin rapiers! You quickly leap out of the way and draw your own sword.

The woman stops in front of you, clad in a simple but refined silk nightgown, her four unoccupied hands balled into tight fists. She stares you down with her four front eyes. Is this spider as afraid of you as you are of her? She's Princess Joronia, you soon learn. She received the mirror as a gift.

She sympathises with you and offers you a cup of herbal tea to calm your nerves. You've never had tea, (not-you remembers the taste) but by the Mirror's mercy do you know you're thirsty! You accept it, if only to buy yourself time to figure out what's going on and come up with a way to escape with the mirror. The tea soothes you, although it has a strange aftertaste and Joronia's smile is gentle, if a bit too practised. Her gleaming upper eyes gaze patiently into yours. She doesn't drink. You're tired, so tired.

The next day you wake up inside the mirror and try to leave again. Joronia didn't seem so bad. Maybe you can convince her to let you return the mirror! You find it's been magically sealed.

"Oh, don't worry," says 'Joronia' through the glass, her eyes and smile just a little darker and haughtier than they were yesterday, "it's only a safety precaution until we get to know each other better." But months later she still hasn't let you leave with the mirror. Instead, she's been staring into it more and more, fussing endlessly over her make-up and increasingly ostentatious outfits. She laments to you as if you are nothing but a pet she can vent to freely. "Uhuhuhu~! Didn't I look simply unacceptable before? I just couldn't stand my dull reflection. Tell me how gorgeous I am! Then I might even feel generous enough to feed you."

You grow bitter. How trapped you are! Behind you is the ruined hellscape where you were broken and humiliated. In front of you is an increasingly deranged self-obsessed woman who you're forced to ingratiate yourself to for scraps. Tsch! You are caged and seething! The day you find the person who subjected you to this your sword will taste blood! Soon your vibe arsenic joins the maddening sulfuric stench that abhorrent eyeball left behind. Your mind and the mirror grow ever darker in a vicious cycle. It's been years. You yearn for sights you have only seen in dreams. You cannot die.

The reborn and remade Queen Sectonia doesn't care. She's too busy solidifying her power and enhancing her own grotesque beauty to pay attention to the machinations of naughty little strays. Your sharpened tongue pleases her just enough to spare you and coax out news of the outside world. You are her obedient pet. The keeper of her innermost secrets. More loyal than her advisor. You hone yourself and your blade when she's not looking.

So when Sectonia dies and the seal goes with her, you are ready. You don't care who's on the other side. You. Only. Want. REVENGE.

* * * * *

Headcanon time!

I see DMK as leaning into using his mirror abilities, not so much because he wants to prove himself superior to Meta Knight, but because that's something only HE can do. Something he 'earned', not inherited. He wants to be the best at something without needing help.

When he spawned he already knew how to speak, move and wield his sword. Or rather, the second he attempted to do any of these things he 'remembered' how to do them.

Wouldn't it be funny and tragic if so much of his life consists of discovering skills he didn't know he had, that belong to someone who isn't quite him? What surprises will his memory give him today? Amnesiac roulette.

Imagine: he's just idly fidgeting with a sheet of paper and looks down to see he's accidentally folded a perfect little origami crane. He crushes the crane. Tsch. Another skill he didn't earn! (Later he secretly learns to fold something Meta Knight hasn't folded before, just so he can say he made the skill his own. He will deny this.)

He didn't know he had the ability to mend his cape. Yet when he found needle and thread his hands traced the movements with practised ease. He refuses to mend his cape and claims it fits his rough-and-tough aesthetic. (He collects scraps and quilts a cozy blanket for his hideout. He claims to have found it in the trash.)

He comes across a book in a language he has never seen before. He can read it! The contents make little sense to him. He tries writing, but discovers his handedness is opposite to Meta Knight's. Ink smudges his left glove as he adjusts. (It shouldn't matter. He's ambidextrous! Try as he might, he still cannot draw or write with his right hand.)

Infodump about memory function incoming! (TL;DR: there are several types of memories, some about life events, some about sensations or skills.) I hope I can explain this correctly using an example.

Imagine you're going for a stroll in the park. You don't have to think consciously about every movement you make because you already know how to walk. You decide where to go and your brain handles the details automatically. (Procedural memory. This is what let him immediately move and fight.)

You spot someone walking a dog. Your brain goes: "Dog!!!" You don't have to analyse every feature of the animal to know this because the holistic concept of "Dog" in your brain immediately lights up and couples it to the language part of you to remember the correct name. (Semantic memory. This let him recognise the world and understand speech.)

You consider petting it. Your hand experiences the ghost of fur underneath. It just stopped raining, so your nose anticipates the wet dog smell as well. (Sensory memory. He gets whiffs of sensations and tastes he hasn't experienced himself.)

You approach the dog. Suddenly you realise you've seen this dog before! It was last week and when you pet it wrong it snapped at you. You remembered a specific event. (Episodic memory. He didn't get this one and therefore doesn't remember Meta Knight's life. He has to puzzle out what his 'original' is like from the other remembered scraps he got.)

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prxttypxrker · 5 years

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[secrets: part seven]

[part] one two three four five six

[tags] @falling-stars-never-cry @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @hphmincorrectquotes

You had family over.. you had family over? The only person you ever mentioned was your older sister, whom you lived with, and the late parents you lost at a young age. There were family friends and your sister's boyfriend, sure, but never any other actual blood relatives. The text you sent sat uneasy with him. While he was happy you weren't ignoring him for as long as he expected, the confusion of who you could've meant was tenfold. Does he ask you at school tomorrow? Or does he just bypass his curiosity and let it slide?

Peter flipped over on his bed, staring at the phone sitting between the pages of his chemistry textbook. He'd been debating calling or not—considering you did say you had family over and couldn't meet with him. However.. maybe you could do a phone call? Or a text. Texting sounded better. You wouldn't be able to hear his very unnecessary desperation to figure you out just for tonight.

He threw his head down and groaned into his pillow. If he didn't have a crush on you he wouldn't have been as persistent. And it was overwhelming. He didn't recall any moments he felt like this when he liked Liz last year; not even when he found out her dad was Vulture and had to fight him. That was crazy, but it didn't meld his mind as much as this did. He didn't even think he could like someone this much after that whole experience. “Hey.” He turned his head enough to see his Aunt May leaning against the doorway. “Are you going to call her?”

He sat up immediately, turning his screen off and shutting the book he was reading just to help you on the project. “What? Call who? I don't know who you're talking about.”

She stared at her nephew for what felt like eternity before giving him a small smile and shaking her head. “I won't ask what it's about, but if it has to do with a certain superhero swinging around the neighborhood—well—I’m sure she'll understand once you have a real talk with her. I know she wouldn't want to jeopardize your friendship either.”

He didn't say anything—he couldn't, really. There were moments he forgot his aunt discovered that he was Spider-Man, so whenever she discreetly brought up the other side of his double life he was taken aback. Although this time, he was more than glad she had a sixth sense about what went on in his life. He cleared his throat and nodded his head slowly. “Yeah.. yeah, I'll make sure I talk to her. Thanks, Aunt May.” She gave him another smile and turned to head back into the kitchen. He immediately opened up the book and turned his phone back on.

While he was trying to decide whether calling was a good idea, you were sitting at a dinner table with your sister Katrina, her boyfriend, and pretty much the only person your parents were extremely close with. Everyone was engaged in lively conversation while you could barely get a word in. It all made sense, but for some reason you still couldn't wrap your head around the fact that your crush was also the one who prevented what would have been a tragic event in your life. A part of you preferred he was just making new friends that would replace you guys in the future. At least then you could cope and talk it out without having second thoughts. This was a whole other situation. Peter was an actual hero, not the regular, run-of-the-mill kid who takes city crimes into his own hands. He was skilled and friendly and as selfless as anyone with powers could be. Not to mention he worked with Iron Man; you remembered seeing that ship 'incident’ on the news the year before. As well as photos and videos people would post online of the two of them taking on bigger jobs together. It was amazing and impressive, but something still bothered you.

“Y/N.” You looked up from the phone sitting next to your plate, sending it to its black screen before acknowledging your sister. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just some stuff about homework.” It didn't seem like she believed it, but she only shrugged and continued on with the conversation with her boyfriend. They didn't give it a second thought, but the other guest clearly did. You watched him glance between yourself and the device, raising his eyebrows. Was the conflict really that obvious? Could he see that you were struggling with a friendship? Or were your mixed feelings with the current situation making their way into your eyes? “Um,” you cleared your throat and stood from your seat, “I'm gonna go work on that project Miss Simms gave me.”

After saying an early goodnight to the other three in the room, you made your way down the hall toward your bedroom. You closed the door and breathed out a large sigh, throwing yourself on the bed. You laid on your back so you could see the ceiling; see the space where you had half of the pictures of you, your friends and family stuck with tape and staring straight at you. It felt weird to have photos up at first, but over time you would look at them each time you just needed someone and they couldn't physically be there. Mostly during your moments of sulking or frustration, in which you hated bringing down the moods of others so you would look at the smiling faces above you to keep you sane. You hoped they would still help with something as big as this.

You sighed and rolled over onto your stomach, deciding that if you weren't going to talk to him yet, you might as well actually work on that project. While you started doing the worksheets there was a light knock from the other side of the door. “Come in.”

“Hey, misfit.”

At the sound of the all too familiar voice you put everything in your hands down and sat up, giving the man your full attention. “You haven't called me that for a while.”

“Now that's because you haven't caused any trouble in a while.” You rolled your eyes, smiling up at him as he gave you one in return. “So what's up? Why have you been ignoring me?”

“I haven't.”

“You're a terrible liar... definitely got that trait from your dad.”

You frowned and he gestured toward the open spot on your bed, waiting for you to nod so he could sit down. There was a silence that hung in the air as the two of you sat there, both looking around different pieces of your room. It was a silence you always hated when it was between you and him. You much preferred the weird, fatherly or innovative talks that would happen whenever you'd see him. After your dad passed away with your mom, he was the only one that was able to tell when something was bothering you or if you were lying about anything. So after another minute or so of quiet, you spoke up. “Why didn't you tell me?”

He sighed, letting the question sink in on both ends. He then adjusted his position so he could look at you properly. “It wasn't my place to tell you that. It’s his responsibility to decide when to say who he was to any of you. I've just been there as the... moral support, you could say.”

You snorted, “Snarky Tony Stark as moral support? That I would like to see.”

The billionaire raised an eyebrow and grinned at you, seeing that his said snarkiness had been rubbing off on you more and more. His gaze found its way to the object with the screen displaying your contact list. There were times he forgot how much you grew since that tragic day, but seeing the extent of what you'd been going through the past few months helped him see that you had more than just normal, teenage issues. You had a knowing crush on a boy who went around saving pedestrians and putting his own life at risk once in a while. All while having a father figure who had an arc reactor in his chest, flew around in an iron, red and gold suit saving New York from aliens with other heroes, was part of Earth's best defenders, and had a mind so big only those truly intelligent could fully understand him. “Talk to the kid. He goes through a lot. He could use someone like you on his side.”

Without waiting for a response he pulled himself up from the sitting position and made for the doorway. You bit your lip when he took a step out. You didn't want the chance to say it slip by, so just as he was halfway down the small hallway, you let out a small shout. “Thank you, Uncle Tony!”

With his rare modesty in check after your miniscule burst, you went back to the materials laid across the mattress. Your eyes combed over everything, stopping at the name that both frustrated you and sent waves of butterflies in your belly every time you heard it.

Neither of you were aware the other knew about having a crush on one another; these types of instances almost never happened, especially during high school. It was a decision of part temporary confidence, part consideration, and part nobody wanting to lose a friendship out of this. You were both unsure for different reasons, but at the end of the night feelings were only an excuse. In your beds, you each took a deep breath and pressed the name on your phones.

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