The Penguinist Problem - Baron

Chapter 1 Chapter Text

Deep beneath the bluest of blue skies – sunny weather beaming proud, birds singing songs of rapture, and dated skyboxes reimagined as veritable high-fantasy anime via the reverent imagination of fanfiction – the humble village of Iselia was abuzz with activity. Carpenters were hammering their finishing touches, grocers and cooks carried lavish meals to and fro, and children laughed and played amidst the rustic forest air.

All this activity was jubilant in the best of ways, for there was a wedding afoot! And not just any wedding: it was the union of Lloyd Irving and Colette Brunel, heroes of the united world. The Eternal Swordsman and the Chosen of Sylvarant. The Gentle Idealist and the Angelic Maiden. The best goddamn Tales of Symphonia pairing in existence. (Yes, even better than that one. And that one. And especially your favorite that’s not Colloyd. Regardless, all our shipping brothers and sisters were welcome.)

It was indeed a momentous day -- "Colloyd Day", as was christened, and Iselia was suddenly not so humble anymore, not the least in the entourage arriving to celebrate this most momentous day: Pietro, the mayor of Luin; Seles Wilder, no longer confined to her abbey, and King Jesus Nazareth of Tethe’alla, with his lovely daughter in tow. Even the Church of Martel with their waning influence were all too happy to attend and bless the wedding – not the least in their Papal Knight bodyguards that sounded exactly like Wallace Shawn.

All folks who’d come to know the lucky couple amidst their travels to save the world, each and every one having shipped the two in secret, for they were just the cutest little thing; in fact, they’d already made a beeline for the vendors, eagerly fishing out their gald for all things Colloyd.

“Get yer hot Colloyd merch!” yelled one of the stall vendors, “all yer fanfics, fanarts, zines and doujinshis -- grab ‘em all before Namco sues us to oblivion!”

Thanks to the powers that be at the Colloyd Fan Club – which had absorbed the power vacuum left behind by the Church of Martel -- much of the festivities were taking place in the village proper. Game booths featuring chakrams, Pow Hammers, and Para Balls were available to play, at minimal risk to participants. Food vendors were carefully tailored to the lovely couple’s tastes, with all tomatoes and bell peppers carefully excised in favor of an abundance of beef and innumerable fruits. There was even an outdoor theater established by the school, where every classic Colloyd moment from story beats to Z-skits were reenacted to a spellbound audience.

“Forgive me, sweet Colette!” yelled the Lloyd actor, kneeling before his love with the most dramatic of hand flourishes, “for I hath lied; ‘tis actually hot!”

“Say it is not so!” screamed the Colette actress as she dropped her coffee in mock shame. “Oh, sorrow! For this secret plagues me with shame!”

Oh, the tears that were shed – and before the actual wedding, no less! Indeed, much awe and worship were expressed by innumerable tourists, for there were attractive landmarks aplenty: “The Spot Where Colette Tripped Through The School Wall,” “The Spot Where Exsphere Exposition and Battle Mechanics Were Explained,” and “The Spot Where Lloyd and Genis Were Banished, Which is Also The Very Spot Where Marble Exploded.”

“But there’s not even a crater!” complained one of the guests.

“That’s GameCube graphical limitations for you,” said that one watchman with the bottle glasses, who was serving as today’s tour guide, “rest assured, the ensuing explosion dropped her Exsphere right by your very feet, and now all we have left to remember Marble by is her weird name.”

All this and more, running at a crisp 60 FPS and amounting to the hefty price of exactly 100 gald.

“That’s expensive!” said Lloyd, complete with a sweatdrop emoji.

“Lloyd, that’s the cost of an Apple Gel,” said Genis, waving his hand around.

“The Exsphere journey wasn’t cheap, buddy! I dunno, get Mayor What’s-His-Name on it.”

The mayor, who learned the values of not being a massive racist dick, gladly compensated before slinking back into house arrest.

But enough of such trivialities! The most beautiful wedding ever was about to held, and yet neither the man nor groom had yet graced the Village of Oracles with their presence. Just where were they on this finest of fine days?

“Would ya wake up already, Lloyd!” yelled Dirk as he slammed his fist down onto his poor son’s head. “How do you manage to sleep standing, laddie?”

“Oh, Professor Sage!” yelled Lloyd as he jolted awake. “Eh…is class over already?”

“This isn’t the start of a New Game+, me boy!” yelled Dirk, “have ya forgotten what day it is?!”

“Uh, the launch of the Switch remaster?”

“That was a year ago, laddie! And no one liked it! It’s da day of your wedding, for goodness’s sake!”

“Huh?” said Lloyd before looking around – Zelos’s butler was outfitting him into his wedding suit, Dirk huffed and puffed with crossed arms and tapping feet, and he could make out the snickering faces of Genis and Zelos just over the makeshift dressing curtain in Dirk’s downstairs.

“Oh, uh, right,” said Lloyd. “You know I’d never forget that.”

“Gee, Lloyd,” said Genis, waving his hand around, “what’s next: your “getting bored” shtick ruining the vows?”

Lloyd blushed as he and Zelos cackled. “Shut it, Genis! It’s not my fault Namco’s scriptwriters got really mean-spirited with the silent text dialogue-”

“Woulda get your head in the game already, lad!” said Dirk as he grabbed his son by the shoulders. “It’s not like this is a Gung Ho playthrough where you have to play with the ½ EXP Grade bonus-“

“Yes, Dad-”

“And it’s not like this is the grueling trial of the I Hate Gels, Friendship First, Holy Sword, or Combo Master titles either!”

“Yes, I know, Dad-”

“And it’s not like the time where Baron Ali somehow didn’t know the Sylvarant seals collapsed after the first disc despite playing this stupid game like a dozen times and had to start another playthrough to get Sheena’s Treasure Hunter title! Or maybe Raine’s Monster Collector title, I dunno; it’s been a while.”

“Yes, Dad, I get it-”

“It’s your wedding for cryin’ out loud! Take it seriously!”

“Dad, I know! It’s just…”

The swordsman took a deep breath, Dirk loosening his grip as the stress and frustration grew palpable -- rigid and pronounced beneath weary bones.

“I just,” he breathed, struggling to get the words out, “I just want this to be perfect for her. You know how Colette gave up on all her dreams in exchange for being a human sacrifice, and now she’s finally getting everything she ever wanted, right down to a honeymoon on the boat I built, and here I am waking up late and reenacting in-game cutscenes-”

“I know, lad,” said Dirk as he clapped his son’s shoulder, “I know how much you love her – why, the moment ya left chasin’ after Colette on that big journey, I cozied up to my laptop and just began clearing my entire backlog of childhood love fanfics-”

“Geez, now you gotta embarrass me with that trash too?”

“Dwarven Vow #17: Embarrassment is but the right of the father.”

“Yeah, yeah – you already do that enough with the seventh vow.”

“Aw, cut ‘em some slack, Dirk,” said Zelos with a dismissive handwave. “It was the same for me and Sheena – Sebastian’s an expert dresser, but the process takes forever. Lloyd just wants to get over there and give Colette some sugar.”

“I-!” protested Lloyd before the thought of Colette’s perfect pink lips arrested him. He still remembered their first kiss – when she tried Item Thief on some monsters down the Ossa Trail and instead fell upon her beloved, the ensuing smooch-fest lasting for ten straight minutes. (The monsters, as it happens, were so moved by the ensuing 100+ combo that they willingly gave up their valuables. While I’m at it, they’ve since made it a life goal to match said 100+ combo each and every day.)

“Haha! You’re turn-ing re-d!” laughed Genis.

“Sh-shut it, Genis!”

Sebastian moved to and fro, adjusting the costume however he saw fit. “Yes, like this, Sir Bud.”

Cue sweatdrop emoji. “My name’s not Bud!”

“Would you prefer I call you Hunny?”

“…no, sir.”

“Very good,” said Sebastian as he got back to work.

“Patience, Lloyd,” laughed Dirk, “remember Dwarven Vow #63: A watched pot never boils.”

Lloyd groaned. “Y’know, Dad, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you made those up just to annoy me.”

“Aye, it was my most brilliant move as a father – I couldn’t get ya to do anythin’ as a wee toddler, so I made all those up just to pound some morals into ya!”

“Wait, really?”

“Ah, I mean—Dwarven Vow #198: uh, YOLO, kid.”

“…right.”

Sebastian suddenly stepped away, nodding affirmatively. “You may step out now, Sir Bud.”

“Finally!” said Lloyd as he flashed his signature grin. “Now, let’s see how I look!”

Puffing his chest with pride, Lloyd proudly strutted past the curtain – hands proud on his hips, the scrawny chest and yellow snorkel courtesy of his Beach Boy title for all to see.

Genis guffawed as Zelos wolf-whistled. “Aw, yeah! Now that’ll get Colette all hot and bothered. Reminds me of the time you wore that when unlocking Origin’s seal!”

“Wait, what—” said Lloyd, giving a once-over before stomping his flippered feet. “Yeah, making a mockery of that was one thing, but it’s hardly wedding material, Zelos!”

“Easy, easy, just a joke; proceed again, Sebastian.”

Zelo’s butler ushered him back behind the curtain and began fitting his next outfit – finishing in record time. “How about now, Sir Bud?”

Lloyd harrumphed, stepping out in a familiar combo of beige, yellows and whites – sans the suave blonde hair.

“The difference is so obvious,” mimicked Lloyd in the voice of Guy Cecil before turning to Zelos angrily. “Wrong game, bucko!”

“Bahaha! Sorry, bud – no japes this time, promise.”

Lloyd groaned -- he knew the rule of three when he saw one. Reluctantly stepping back, more clothes were shuffled around as Sebastian got to work.

“You’ll be quite satisfied with this costume, Sir Bud,” said Sebastian, “only the finest of Meltokio’s tailors worked on it.”

“Really.”

“Most indeed. I guarantee everyone’ll be left spellbound by your handsomeness.”

A seed of hope, much like the Great Seed itself, bloomed in Lloyd’s chest. Would he really be so dashing? Colette said he looked good in anything – a feeling he knew was mutual, what with all the mushy, ooey-gooey lovefests they frequently engaged in.

“You’re just so cute when you’re sleeping,” she’d say as she rubbed their noses together, “and you’re even cuter when you’re blushing, too!”

“Oh yeah?” he’d say, tomato red as Colette giggled at her handiwork, “well, who’s the one with the squishy cheeks, huh?!”

And just like that, sneaky fingers would dig into the pliable softness of those bulbous cheeks – a maneuver she learned to instantly match with her own greedy pair.

“Nooo, that’s YOU!” Colette would fire back, both laughing and giggling as they showered each other with love.

(All this, naturally, unfolded in public wherever they went – their international audiences sighing and wistful at the pure fluff unfolding before them, knowing their own pitiful romances could never compare.)

But for this wedding, he wanted nothing but the absolute best for Colette, and what better way to spirit her breath away than the snazziest tuxedo in existence? He could see his transformation now: the ebony black bringing out his broad shoulders, his hair combed to smooth perfection, a handsome bowtie topping it all off…

One last shuffling of clothes. “All done; you may step out now, Sir Bud.”

Yes, thought Lloyd as he stepped through the curtain, this is it! Watch me, Colette!

The fantasy was immediately shattered by rubber-ducky footsteps, squeaking with every wobble and waddle of Lloyd’s Penguinist costume.

“Bahahaha!” laughed Zelos and Genis as they keeled over in laughter.

“Zelos!” yelled Lloyd as he made a fit. “Get me out of here!”

“Would ya quit with the monkey business already?!” said Dirk. “Before we know it, it’ll already be past noon!”

“Ahaha! Ahaha! Sorry, sorry – couldn’t resist. Alright, Sebastian, get ‘em outta there.”

“As you wish,” said Sebastian as he moved to unzip the zipper, only to suddenly recoil. “Oh dear.”

Lloyd paled. “W-what is it?”

“It appears to be stuck, Sir Bud.”

“Are you kidding me?!”

“I’m afraid so, Lloyd,” laughed Zelos, “looks like you’ll be getting married in that goofy costume!”

Lloyd gripped his head with his flippers. “Nooooo!”

“Hey, considering how your pants are always unbuttoned, this may be an improvement!” said Genis, waving his hand about.

“S-shut up!”

Dirk marched over and observed the stuck zipper. “I’ve heard tales of these so-called Penguinists,” he said gravely, “supposedly, they’re driven by an unmatched commitment to their lifestyle, and encase their bodies with a costume locked by an enchanted zipper.”

He turned to Sebastian. “Did ya precure one o’ dose for this gag?”

“I know nothing of the sort,” said Sebastian with an apologetic bow, “just that it was contrived from genuine Penguinist material.”

“This be grave news indeed,” sighed Dirk, “without the necessary materials, the costume cannot be unzipped.”

“Oh no!” wailed Lloyd. How could he possibly launch surprise Squishy Cheeky attacks now with these flat flippers? No, worse – who’d want to smooch a Penguinist?!

“Now, now, I didn’t say it was impossible, laddie,” he said as he faced his son, “to unzip the Penguinist costume, one must collect the three artifacts of The Great Wabberjock, take ‘em to the Customization Shop and bind ‘em together into a latchkey. Once applied to the zipper pull tab, it’ll unzip the whole shebang, and Bob’s your uncle.”

Lloyd sweatdropped. “Where are we gonna find all that?!”

“Actually, ya shouldn’t have any trouble – ya just need some Soft Leather, a Paralysis Charm --

“Sounds easy!” said Lloyd.

“-and the Derris Emblem.”

“What?!”

“Yes, apparently Mithos just loved those little guys so much that Martel’d take him down to the Penguinist Matinee and-”

“Wait, how do you even know this!?”

“Aw, details shmetails!” said Dirk, casually tossing aside a copy of the Tales of Symphonia Developer’s Bible, “point is, he blessed all their costume fusions whenever Cruxis placed monsters down at Tethe’alla, and he did just that with the Derris Emblem.”

“That doesn’t make any sense! The population growth would certainly peter off-”

“Boy, does any of the worldbuilding in this game make sense?! There’s only eight prior Sylvarant Chosen and yet somehow there were a bajillion coffins floatin’ about the Tower of Salvation like they were the zombie bones of my Great Aunt Gertie! Does that make sense?!”

“Well, no, but-”

“And ya ever stop to think about how half-elf discrimination works in Sylvarant? There’s not a single elven settlement around for humans to know the difference and yet somehow they treated them like they took a whiff o’ my pappy’s Radish Potluck Surprise-”

“Okay, yeah, but-”

“And Noishe! Ya ever stop to think about the logistics of that oversized hairball? He’s supposed ta be following ya all around the entire journey while y’all somehow lugged him around on those Rheairds o’ yours? Who was the unlucky schmuck stuck with Protozoan tush in their face every time ya zipped and zapped between worlds like ya got ants in ya pantses? Reminds me o’ the time my Uncle Barclay ripped a great big-”

“Okay, Dad, I get it!”

“Point is, by the unholy union of fanfiction and Namco scriptwriting, you need the Derris Emblem, and that’s that. Don’t you still have all the Key Items permanently glued to your inventory?”

“Well, I gave them to the festival for display-”

“Ya did what?!”

“Look, I dunno, the Colloyd Fan Club were really insistent on celebrating every single factor of our lives and wanted them on display and, well, I was getting really tired of lugging all that stuff around anyway-”

“Hey, hold on,” said Zelos, “if it’s down at the festival, then just let’s go now – there’s no way they’re not selling the rest of that junk!”

“Yeah, Lloyd! How hard could it be? Let’s go!” said Genis, waving his hand.

Lloyd grimaced as he glanced down his white polyester belly. “In this?”

“There’s no time, laddie! Get down now, or you’ll ruin yer big day!”

Lloyd grumbled as he shuffled out the door -- Noishe, who was waiting just outside, recoiled at his faithful companion’s penguinfied form and barked with every squeak of the infernal rubber-ducky footsteps.

Dirk and Sebastian waved goodbye as the party of three went out. “I’ll catch up with ya shortly! And while we’re getting’ all referential here, remember: no “Dike, I’m Home” jokes! That art I saw floatin’ around Tumblr last week wit’ me grabbin’ your other dad’s bum may’ve awoken feelings I never thought possible, but I ain’t claimin’ such language yet!”

As was ancient Dwarf tradition, Dirk whipped out his bagpipes and sent him off with a boisterous cover of Amazing Grace.

“Goddamnit, Dad,” Lloyd swore under his breath as his two best friends’ ribs hurt from laughing so hard, “you’re dead meat after this, Zelos.”

“Easy, easy,” said Zelos, still wheezing from laughter. “Now let’s run along – your blushing bride awaits.”

Chapter 2 Chapter Text

Meanwhile, amidst the none-the-wiser festivities in Iselia, there was another fitting taking place: one for a maiden in love. But this woman was not one for picking flowers or crooning fantasies of a handsome prince; no, this girl had already found true love – one that persisted in suffering and silence until her fairy tale came true.

Before, the oppressive hands of fate subdued such fantasies, for wants and desires burdened her duties as Chosen; now, every last wish Colette Brunel had carefully compartmentalized – once cherished in vain, preserved with the tragic knowledge they would never come true – burst free from her beating heart, each a living testament to the steadfast will ironically forged over years of faith.

Perhaps, mused Colette as she observed the festivities outside her window, that was a gift courtesy of the very same fate she should’ve learned to curse.

As opposed to the chaos just observed, this fitting was orderly and composed. The former Chosen of Sylvarant airily hummed a song by Nana Mizuki as three women of famed renown took it upon themselves to fit the bride into a stunning wedding dress.

“You look beautiful, Colette,” said Raine Sage, helping Colette with her dress. “I can’t say I’ve attended many weddings, but I can hardly imagine a more lovely bride.”

Sheena Fujibayashi’s jiggle physics breasted boobily as she nudged the professor. “Didn’t you feed me the same line at my wedding last year?

“Did I? I can’t say I remember.”

Presea Combatir sighed as she fitted Colette’s slippers. “Must you catfight now?”

Raine and Sheena were about to protest before Colette suddenly squealed in embarrassment. “Oh, I’m so nervous!"

Sheena laughed knowingly. “I felt the same way,” she said as she handed Colette her veil, “pre-wedding jitters are the worst!”

Colette hummed before facing her former assassin. “How did you handle it, Sheena?”

“Well, I knew that idiot Chosen was probably feeling the same way,” said Sheena, “you know how he gets when he’s stressed – I just imagined him pacing back and forth, pestering Sebastian over whether it was time yet.”

She laughed as she braided Colette’s hair. “Turns out I was right – he was this close to having a manic episode with his Masked Swordsman outfit. The perfect metaphor, really: Zelos may act all cool and confident, but the mask always slips whenever it comes to making me feel loved. It’s sweet, in its own right."

As the other women giggled at the visual, Colette suddenly stopped to think. Would Lloyd be feeling the same way? The boy who always there in her time of need? Who made the impossible possible? Who made her heart beat full of love? Who was the best thing that ever happened to her? Surely he’d be brave enough to tackle a wedding!

…right?

Sheena’s eyes relaxed with understanding. “I know what you’re thinking – you’d really believe the guy who went from hell to back to rescue you would suddenly turn tail?”

“Of course not!” protested Colette as she shook her fists. “It’s just…well, I’m sure he’s nervous too. We’ll be married by evening’s end! I mean, oh, dear, I always wanted this, but to actually call him my husband – and me his wife--”

Sheena sighed before gripping Colette’s shoulders. “Girl, just look me and Zelos: whenever he wasn’t sexually harassing me or going on uncharacteristically cruel rants about the poor, I realized he was a product of his environment and thought “hey, I can fix ‘em.” And wouldn’t you know it – that screeching tsundere energy of mine was a perfect match for his teasing machismo. Don’t pretend you and Lloyd’s innocent puppy dog energy isn’t the sweetest thing. There’s a reason why everyone’s out there celebrating your life together!”

Colette smiled dreamily as she recalled all the finest Colloyd moments. All the times Lloyd laughed and called her a dork. All the forty-plus times she apologized. The way that one Desian mook at the Iselia Human Ranch somehow kicked them down at level 45. The time she crooked her neck while sleeping at Zelos’s house. That weird mean-spirited moment at the beginning where he told her to be more Chosen-like.

“Sheena’s right,” said Raine as she guided Colette to the mirror, showing off her wedding dress. “When you’re walking down the aisle, Lloyd will be there, and he’ll be spellbound by this beautiful dress Baron Ali doesn’t feel like describing.”

Presea smiled. “And for you, the same.”

Colette twirled about, stunned at the wedding dress she never thought she’d wear. She giggled at the reality before her – her most forbidden childhood dream finally come true!

“You’re right,” said Colette as she gazed longingly out the window. “I just know that even now, Lloyd doing’s his best – and all for me!"

Lloyd grumbled as he waddled past the front gate of Iselia – the accompanying sign reading “SPONSORED BY THE COLLOYD FAN CLUB – CELEBRATING COLLOYD SINCE ~~2004~~ 2003”. It was very rare the idyllic scent of his hometown failed to coax him into nostalgia, but the grave circ*mstances smothered even the omnipresent whistle of that background harmonica. (As opposed to the accordion or whatever from the PS2/OST version -- screw that noise.)

“Ugh, now everyone’s gonna know!” groaned Lloyd.

“Aw, c’mon, no one’ll notice – they’ll just think you’re a mascot for the wedding!” said Zelos.

A starstruck gasp grabbed their attention. “Look, Mom,” said a little boy who came skipping up, “it’s a PENGUINIST!”

“Oh, how adorable. Smile for the camera, sweetie!”

It took all of Lloyd’s willpower not to grimace for the photo – not the least when the little boy squeezed him like a hug pillow, crushing his ribs.

“Thanks, Mr. Penguinist!” said the boy as the mother swiftly uploaded the picture to Aseliabook.

“See? What I’d tell ya?” said Zelos.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Lloyd as he hacked for breath, “so what do we need again?”

“A Paralysis Charm, some Soft Leather, and...the Derris Emblem,” said Genis, looking around as he waved his hand. “I wonder where we can even start -- there’s countless stalls all around!”

“All I know is, I’d rather not run into anyone we know,” said Lloyd as he beheld his terrible costume again.

“That’s gonna be pretty tough, bud,” said Zelos, “see, there’s Nova’s Caravan walking down the lane, Chocolat and Cacao selling those 20^th anniversary plushies, Joshua and Rosa buying Colloyd doujinshi, Tiga riding around on his roomba pillow…and look, even some incidental bad guys showed up!”

“Ugh, inferior beings!” said a Desian footsoldier.

“Time to flyyyyyyyyy!” said a Mandragora.

“CEASE. FUNCTION.” rumbled a Dark Archer before he suddenly dropped dead in the middle of the road.

Lloyd slapped his face with a flipper. “Who invited them?!”

“Me; I thought it’d be funny. Besides, we gotta build bridges with all kinds in this united world, y’know?”

Lloyd grumbled. “Okay, okay, let’s just…try each stall one by one and see where that takes us.”

Turning left, they headed down towards the Dealer’s Avenue – where Colloyd trinkets and merch of all sorts were sold to Tales of Symphonia faithful.

“Excuse us,” asked Genis, “but are you selling any Soft Leather?”

“’Fraid not, pal! But, I am selling a lifetime supply of Apple Gels for 10,000 gald!”

“Oh, you mean the supposedly endless resource of life-saving medicine that wasn’t there when Colette and co. joined us in the Triet Desert?” said Lloyd, flippers on his hips.

“Uh, yeah – sadly, they were…lost in a tragic accident. Yeah.”

“There was no tragic accident.”

“Your pal with the red hair ate them all. Apple Gel addiction is a serious disease – have you or a loved one ever-”

“My dad’s not an addict!”

“Okay, okay, just for you, I’ll lower the price for just…100 Gald.”

“That’s expensive!”

“Lloyd, c’mon, it’s obviously not here; let’s go,” said Zelos as he pulled one of Lloyd’s flippers.

“But there’s too many unanswered questiooooooons!” yelled Lloyd as he was dragged across the ground.

The next stall. “Hi, do you have any-“

“My secrets will astound you! Even my SECRETtary-“

“Okay, moving along,” said Lloyd.

Another stall. “Hi, we’re-”

“Hello, hello!” yelled a yaoi fangirl – her smuggled rainbow-colored booth adorned with gay pride aplenty. “We’ve got all your hot man-on-man action in everything from Zelloyd, Gelloyd, and Krall-”

“GAH!” said Lloyd as he marched off and threw up his flippers. “This is never gonna work!”

“Hello dears,” said a sweet elderly voice. “How is the wedding coming along?”

“Oh, hey Phaidra,” said Lloyd as he turned around, “pretty terrible, actually, I-”

Lloyd paled at the tiny sight of his future grandmother-in-law – her hunched frame ancient as the Balacruf Dynasty, yet as imposing as staring down Abyssion himself.

“Uh, I mean—ma’am, I think you have the wrong-”

“Don’t you even try, sonny; I know everything. Besides, you’re a dead ringer for those handsome posters plastered everywhere.”

Lloyd groaned as he turned to face a smattering of posters – the corny facsimiles of Lloyd and Colette’s faces drawn exactly like the infamous Desian wanted posters. (Lloyd had objected, but alas, the Colloyd Fan Club had insisted on the drawing power of raw meme energy; that, and hiring a decent artist was just outside the 100 gald budget.)

Genis snickered as he moved his hand around. “Wow, Lloyd – they really did capture your likeness after all.”

“S-shut it, Genis!”

“Enough with the tomfoolery! Just what do you think you’re doing on your big day? I sure hope you’re not marrying my granddaughter looking like that!”

“No, you don’t understand -- it was a horrible accident!”

“Yes, yes, like I said, I know everything. I was just passing through and thought I’d give you this early gift – something tells me you’ll appreciate it.”

Lloyd gasped as Phaidra gently placed a small trinket onto his flipper – a Paralysis Charm!

“Phaidra!” exclaimed Lloyd as the piano jingle resounded its holy hymn. “How’d you we needed this?”

“Oh, Lloyd, you know my penchant for gifting Key Items at Convenient Intervals; I just figured now’d be a good time as any to exploit it.”

“Thanks, Phaidra!”

“You’re welcome, dear,” said Phaidra, “I’d help you find the other items, but alas, now’s about the time I longingly gaze out the window and relive the trauma of losing my older sister to the Chosen system while wondering what could’ve been.”

“Oh, uh,” mumbled Genis, waving his hand awkwardly.

“But, I heard through the grapevine that the old Wilsons down the road were using some Soft Leather for the decorations. Perhaps you’d like to try them,” said Phaidra as she waddled away towards the yaoi booth.

“Yeesh, talk about heavy,” said Zelos as he pocketed the Paralysis Charm for safekeeping.

“Nah, that’s her favorite excuse; she says that whenever she wants out of something,” said Lloyd as Phaidra hungrily raided all the R18 boy’s love p*rn, “dunno what’s got her in such a rush though. But hey, forget her – can you believe our luck? We got a lead! It won’t take much longer now!”

Genis observes Lloyd’s excited waddle as they walk away. “It can’t be comfortable walking in that thing. How do you manage it?”

“It’s humiliating, but you get used to it after a bit,” said Lloyd, “you just gotta remember: left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot-”

“Tarnation! Ah told yew usin’ throwin’ dat fertilizer would just make it madder!”

“Watch it, ya ijit! It’s stealin’ from the pantry, now!”

The commotion of screams and rustling furniture from the open window of the Wilson residence sent cold shivers through the hapless trio. Lloyd, ever the intrepid hero, cautiously waddling up to the door.

“Hello,” said Lloyd as he gently pried it open, daring to peek. “Everything alri-”

BOP!

A bulbous fist slugged Lloyd in the face, the assailant – a one-eyed Boxer Iris -- fleeing from the scene of the crime in all its limited animated glory.

“Halp! Halp!” screamed Mrs. Wilson, “that darn ‘ooligan’s nabbed the last o’ our Soft Leather!”

Lloyd recovered just in time to see the plant monster carrying a bundle of leather, cradled tight amidst its leafy appendages.

“Hey!” he yelled. “Hey, get back here, you!”

Lloyd waddled as fast as his webbed feet could take him, chasing after the Boxer Iris through town. They hopped across the recreation of the rising Tethe’alla Bridge ride (complete with Undine-propelled water spouts!), sailed across The Washtub Experience (complete with life-threatening leaks!), and rampaged through the recreation of the Otherworldly Gate. (Complete with thoroughly disappointing interworld teleportation effects!)

Alas, while both were impeded by console limitations and impractical costume design, it was amidst the Palmacosta Ranch Escape that Lloyd was distracted by how the two-dimensional explosion effects were somehow even worse than the Gamecube original, and he lost track of the floral thief.

“Dammit, Zelos,” said Lloyd as he panted for breath, wiping off the pixelated soot. “What were you thinking inviting all these goons?”

He looked around his surroundings – he was just behind the line for Punch an Ozette Racist, but as much as he wanted to unleash some flipper, this was no time for virtuous idealism.

“Alright, so, what now-” he said before bumping into a taxidermist bear. “Aw, goddamit-“

Right on cue, a mystical puff of smoke materialized in the bear’s place, revealing none other than the Wonder Chef – clearly irritated and not-at-all invested.

“Jesus, what is going on today,” he muttered under his breath before clearing his throat, “greetings, I am the Wonder Che-”

“Yeah, yeah, aren’t you supposed to be prepping the meals with Regal?”

“That I was, as a matter of fact – now who do you think you are, spiriting me away from my work? And would you mind explaining why this is the 100^th time today?”

“The groom himself, that’s who, and that’s because you keep leaving these stupid props lying around!”

“Look, pal, I’ve told you before: we strategically place our calling cards in inconspicuous locations – hotels, libraries, behind some dude’s closet, and what have you – all so unsuspecting adventurers and completionist nerds can learn the values of fine dining, passive effects and bragging rights. It’s all very complicated, and there’s no way this happens a hundred times a day without reason. Do you know what it’s like to be minding your own business-”

“Take it up with the Colloyd Fan Club, not me! Those stalkers have been hoarding every last piece of memorabilia from our adventure-”

“Then tell them to stop! They worship YOU, don’t they?”

“Buddy, you don’t know what it’s like – it took like three years to get a restraining order after Colette and I started dating-”

“Not my problem! Get ‘em outta here or else!”

“Look, I already have my hands full here-”

“Do you want me to put tomatoes and green peppers back on the menu?”

“N-no, sir.”

“That’s what I thought. Get all my calling cards together or your wedding’s toast!” said the Wonder Chef before raising his mystical fork, disappearing.

Stress ricocheted in Lloyd’s noggin as he cradled his head in his flippers. “How in Aselia am I going to find all that in time, and on top of everything else?!”

“Lloyd! Are you okay?”

“No, Genis, I—whoa!”

An arresting splotch of pastel pink flooded his eyes, Lloyd jumping a mile at the sight of Genis wearing none other than his old Katz costume. He couldn’t remember the last time his half-elf friend had worn it – not since their journey, at least!

“Genis!” he yelled, “What’re you-”

“Well, y’know,” said Genis, sheepish polyester paws waving around, “I felt bad for you being stuck like that, especially on your big day and all, so…I thought maybe we’d share in the pain. Heh.”

Lloyd basked in the emotions evoked by his friend’s loyalty. Moment after moment of their incredible friendship sprawled out in his mind like a grand tapestry, like how the curry he made after the Fire Seal was missing something. And how the curry he made in the Temple of Earth was so f*cking delicious. And how Lloyd kept sneaking meats to Genis’s curry dishes so he could build tension for dat sweet overlimit. And how Raine did the same with lemons to experiment with the properties of sour curry and kept ruining Genis’s dishes to the extent where the small half-elf banned them from supper for two weeks. And then she kept adding lemons out of spite and things escalated to the point where she force-fed the curry to Aska and the battle ended via food poisoning, a firsthand look at the Sylvarant healthcare system, and very expensive lawsuits.

Even the Katz suit smelt faintly of curry. “You really are my best friend, you know that?”

Chapter 3 Chapter Text

The fabled Professor Sage slap echoed across the festival grounds, having pronounced itself upon the unfortunate cranium of Zelos’s head.

“Ow! What was that for?!” moaned Zelos.

“Your callous misuse of ancient Penguinist technology, what else?” yelled Raine.

“We didn’t think there was anything to it! Okay, sure, they raise more questions than your typical joke enemy, but I always thought they were just violent furries or something-”

“That’s hardly an excuse! And even then, it was wildly irresponsible when every-goddamn-body from Tales of Symphonia that’s not dead was invited to the wedding -- of course the tongue-in-cheek joke characters would be attending!”

A firm finger pointed from their observation post. “We only just managed to stun them before barely escaping with our lives! Now their entire clan will be after us!”

All four peeked from the bushes – the Katz were performing a Nifelheimic ritual by their lair in front of the ~~Exploration Team~~ Katz Assassination League stall, now dyed blood-red with a makeshift bonfire burning hungrily for a blood sacrifice as countless fish on sticks roasted medium-rare by the warm open fire. (Coincidentally, their stall situated itself next to a Palmacosta rep’s seafood stand.)

“MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW

MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW

DEATH TO THE PENGUINISTS

LONG LIVE FISHIE BITS

MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW

DEATH TO THE PENGUINISTS

LONG LIVE FISHIE BITS

MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW

MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW”

“In normal circ*mstances, I’d go into Ruin Mode right now, but the entire wedding is at stake here! And we don’t know even know where Lloyd is right now!”

“So what do we do?” said Genis, removing his Katz disguise as he waved his hand around.

Raine exhaled a laborious sigh, a stressed hand brought to her chin. “Colette is with Sheena now – I’d rather we’d not drag the bride into this mess, so let’s not any of us go ruining her big day by telling her what’s happened to the groom. Poor Lloyd’s already been through enough.”

She turned to the group. “We don’t have a choice – we’ll have to appeal to the powers that be at the Colloyd Fan Club; Zelos, you’re with me. Genis, you and Presea search around the festival and keep an eye out for Lloyd and the remaining key ingredients. Everyone, watch out for the Katz. Break!”

Dragging a protesting Zelos by the ear, Raine left her brother and Presea alone without so much as a goodbye.

Left him alone with Presea. Even after all these years, Genis’s hopeless crush persisted -- the sight of Presea’s pretty pink hair and intense emerald eyes leaving his throat dry. But Genis was no fool: the passage of time – not to mention the repetition of every New Game+ playthrough – has wisened him to Presea’s true age, and so he’d silently resigned himself to burying the charred embers of his first love.

And yet…then why…

“Let’s go, Genis,” said Presea, breaking the silence as she rose up.

“Presea, um…”

She stopped. “Yes?”

Genis gulped.

“Why,” he finally croaked, “why did you have a Genis Sensor?”

An unnerving silence – Genis felt the sweat sliding down his face as Presea stood still. Had he trespassed on a mystery best left unsolved?

“May you put your Katz costume back on?”

“What?” he said before pointing towards the ominous bonfire, “but the Katz’ll spot me-”

“Please,” said Presea, “it’ll only be for a moment.”

Powerless before her velvet monotones, he nodded wordlessly and shuffled back into his ragged uniform.

An unbearable silence as still as Presea’s unmoving form – seconds coalescing into unfathomable eons as his tiny half-elf heart pounded in confounded anxiety.

“Um, Presea-”

“Corrine’s paw pads,” she finally said.

“What?”

“Corrine’s paw pads,” repeated Presea as she turned around, “I miss them. I miss how they pillowed beneath my fingers; how their squishiness promised a reason to live when time had left me behind. When he died, a piece of me died with him – Noishe’s paw pads were succulent substitutes, but it just wasn’t the same.

“I wonder,” said Presea as she finally stepped forward, “might you finally provide me with a suitable replacement?”

The seductive violin of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake crooned through the air as she went to town, squeezing Genis’s paw pads with all the reverence in the world. Jolts ricocheted through his body as his face boiled hot as an oven, yet he stood perfectly still, basked in the elegance of a paw pad-hungry Presea.

His mouth went dry as a heavenly choir joined the ethereal strings. Would the forbidden fruit of age ambiguity and fanfic leniency finally give Genis his big chance?

Out pops Lloyd from a Temple of Lightning chute, his pathetic form landing square in the Thoda Geyser as he was followed by two Shadow spirits.

“Okay,” said Lloyd as he fished out the Dungen Extravaganza pamphlet, “so, I need to reunite Shadow, zap the Yellow Blocks, infuse the Sorcerer’s Ring with mana from the Iselia Human Ranch...”

Flippers cradled a spinning head. “How much longer is this gonna go on!?”

“Excuse me, young man,” said an old woman wobbling on a cane, “can you help me across the street?”

“I—yeah, grams, wait right there, I gotta take the Ruby I got from the Temple of Earth and drop it in…here…”

Lloyd sighed as a familiar green pipe stood before him in all its out-of-place glory. “Wrong game! What’s next – a Lost Levels Warp Zone sending me back to Iselia? A Piranha Plant comes out to bite off my arm?”

He waddles over, dangling the jingling Ruby above Ruby above the tube’s shadow recesses. “Yeah, fat chance.”

Right on cue, the off-brand pipe emitted the classic question mark block noise – signaling an arriving visitor. However, it was another floral enemy that popped out, ready for a bout.

“Aw, fudge.”

BOP!

The Boxer Iris slammed its bulbous fist into Lloyd’s face, nabbing the Ruby and running up the geyser’s rainbow bridge.

“Hey! Hey!” screamed Lloyd as he waddled after his nemesis, “get back here with that!”

“PEEEEENGUUUUINIST!”

Lloyd swore as he whipped around – an army of Katz were approaching the Thoda Geyser at top speed, violently paddling away in their leaking washtubs as they foamed at the mouth and screeched curses of bloody death.

“No! No! Not again!” yelled Lloyd, flippers gripping his poor Penguinist head as he ran around the pipe, the Shadow pieces following him around. “They’ll catch me in no time if I head into the dungeon!”

He suddenly stopped, remembering he was standing next to gaming’s most famous method of transporation.

“Welp, gotta know when to go,” he said, leaping into the Warp Pipe with a perfect Olympic dive – the two Shadow pieces following their leader.

The Katz hissed as they reached land, surrounding the pipe on all fours. “HE HAS ESCAPED, MEOW! FOLLOW HIM INTO THE COUNTERFEIT PIPE-”

“Excuse me, but would you ravenous bloodthirsty beasts help me cross the street?”

“WALK THE KIND LADY ACROSS THE STREET, MEOW! THEN KILL THE PENGUINIST WHERE HE STANDS, MEOW!

“Ooh, ooh, that’s a good one! Yes, write that down!”

“No, no, when Lloyd and Colette smooch, it needs to be like that new art meme with all the saliva-”

“Hey, where’re the documents for the annual kink meme? That Omegaverse quota ain’t gonna meet itself!”

The Iselia headquarters of the Colloyd Fan Club was bustling to and fro – mobs of diehard loyalists putting the finishing touches on their WIPs for the Fanfic Read-a-Aloud Hour, volunteers carrying reams upon reams of fanart, and all dressed in familiar red jackets, brown and blonde wigs, unbuttoned jeans and graceful Chosen of Mana outfits.

“Ma’am!” said one Colette-dressed assistant as she ran up to the head honcho, “the doujinshi sales are through the roof! We’ve found an unexpected audience amongst the elderly!”

“Yes, good!” said Valentina Shippington – CEO of the Colloyd Fan Club – as she adjusted the glasses courtesy of Raine’s Scholar costume. “Make sure you sell, sell, sell all that smut! Remember what I said about hot chibi action – the vaseline’s not just for the cel-shading!”

“Ma’am! The cosplay event’s at an all-time high! You won’t believe the amount of Pirate!Lloyds we got out there!”

“Wonderful! Line them up by noon! Make you sure you’re scouting for those Cruxis!Lloyd ones everyone’s so crazy about these days, too -- we need those sponsors, people!”

“Ms. Shippington! The “Nitpick Tales of Symphonia Like Crazy” panel’s running behind – the PowerPoint doc’s at three hundred slides and they’re still not stopping!”

“What! Get Baron Ali off his ass and tell him to cut that sh*t down to size! Excess is all well and good, but I’m not paying him to lounge around Tumblr-”

“Would you listen to us for one moment?!” yelled Raine, slamming her hand on the boss’s desk, “the wedding itself is at stake!”

“Listen, lady,” sighed McShippington as she rolled her eyes, “we’ve been at this for twenty years and now we’re finally obtained the wedding of our dreams thanks to the mad musings of some virgin manchild fanfic writer -- who wouldn’t exploit this opportunity?”

She rose from her chair and spread her arms in vindication. “With the Church of Martel gone, now we call the shots around here: the sweaty, horny fangirls who’ve kept this old-ass RPG alive for two decades by getting drunk on teen romance. We’ve got coffers spilling from our coffers, and all through the power of shipping! Viva la Colloyd Day!”

Cheers and applause resounded through the office as Valentina bowed again and again.

“All matters of canon and timeline discrepancies aside, the very wedding itself is in danger!” yelled Raine amidst the confetti. “That matters far more than your profits!”

“Don’t tell me how to run my events! Who even are you, anyway?”

“I’m Raine Sage! Lloyd and Colette’s teacher? Genis’s brother? The ruin fanatic? You’re dressed as one of my titles, for polycarbonate’s sake! You should know all this if you’re such a Tales of Symphonia fanatic!”

“Look, Refill or whatever your name is,” said McShippington as she lounged back in her office chair, crossing her legs on the table while taking a long drag off her cigar, “shipping’s a business, so why don’t go mind yours and-”

“Ma’am! We just completed the trivia questions for the reception!” said a Lloyd-dressed assistant running up with papers hot off the presses.

“Let me see that!” said Raine as she grabbed the papers in question, her eyes widening at the gibberish espoused within. “Barraclough Temple? Artesta? Kuciak?!? Who wrote this?!”

“Oh, some anime distributer named Discotek or something, I dunno. They offered to do all the non-fic printing for peanuts, so I thought: why not ease our burdens by lending them five gald? Here, look, I’ll even show you the napkin they translated on-”

“They clearly have no familiarity with the source material whatsoever! Look at this: how do you translate “Torent Forest” as “Trent”?!”

“Yeah, Trent Forest – y’know, where Trent OCDoNotSteal helped Lloyd break Kratos’ seal and burned small animals alive or whatever da fuq, I dunno. At any rate, we built it at our Dungeon Extravaganza – only two hundred gald per patron!”

“You know, I gotta say,” mused Zelos as he massaged his chin, “it’s a wonder they pulled everything else off as close as they did with this much commitment to profit.”

“I don’t believe this – you clearly don’t care about Lloyd or Colette’s happiness whatsoever! Moreover, you clearly possess a budget beyond a paltry 100 gald! I've never seen such a warped misuse of finances in my life -- who's bankrolling you?!"

“Yeah, yeah, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that,” said Valentina as she stuffed her AO3-marked ledgers into a drawer, “look, if you’re that concerned about our profits, you can just waltz over to the Hug-a-Half Elf Corner and-”

Raine slammed her hands down again. “Would you listen for one minute?! The groom is lost who knows where, stuck inside a Penguinist outfit, looking up and down for a key to remove himself from said outfit while being chased by feral Katz! I swear, do you-”

“Wait,” said Valentina, her attention suddenly perked, “run that by me again.”

“Lloyd! The groom! Stuck in a humiliating outfit hours before the wedding! Needs the key! Being chased by Katz! Now would you hand over the-”

“My god, did you all hear that?” said Valentina, the room growing quiet as she glanced at all her employees. “You know what this means: it’s paparazzi time again, baby! Get those cameras out – we gotta film all this!”

“But ma’am, the restraining order-”

“Aw, fuggedaboutit! We now got lawyers bleeding out our asses from here to Meltokio! Let ‘em handle the legal gobbledygook – now let’s move, people!”

“FOR COLLOYD DAY!!!” yelled the throngs of Lloyd and Colette-dressed volunteers as they stormed out, fists raised in solidarity.

“Wait, no!” said Raine as everyone ran out. “Well, that didn’t work.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” said Zelos as he grabbed the last remaining volunteer by the arm. “Hey, buddy -- Zelos Wilder himself, at your service; any idea where you guys are keeping the Key Items? We gotta borrow the Derris Emblem for a moment.”

“Oh, well, actually…”

“Who are you supposed to be?” yelled Lloyd, incredulous and hopelessly lost in the Trent Forest, “I’ve never even met you before!”

“I’m Trent, man – your best friend and coolest guy ever,” said some lanky teenage part-timer – covered in piercings, mohawk hair dyed acid-green, and adorned with a stained Wheezer T-shirt. “C’mon, dude; we gotta, like, kill Origin or whatever.”

“That’s—I don’t—that’s not even how it went!”

“’Course it was. Look, I can even do the thing.”

Trent fished out his weapon, a shambling corpse of a toy sword, covered in purple glitter and black duct tape, before initiating a pathetic attempt at “Light Speaaaaar Cannoonnnnnnnnnnnn” – a droning hum accompanying his repetitive 160° spins before smacking a Bellpepper Head, whereupon he was promptly smacked upon on a Minicoid’s bulbous cap and bounced unceremoniously onto the dirt road.

An eternity of awkward silence ensued before he half-heartedly fired off a finger gun in the opposite direction. “Cowabungaaaaaa.”

“That was the lamest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Look, buddy, I’m only being paid, like, three bucks an hour for this gig,” said Trent, sitting up as he lit a cigarette, “like, cut me some slack, man.”

“No, no, this wasn’t in the pamphlet,” said Lloyd as he reviewed the attraction’s brochure, “after restoring Shadow, I need to release Origin’s seal while raising 20,000 gald to restore Rewin—gah, Luin!— and…wait, Luin isn’t even a dungeon! The hell-”

“Nyohohohoho!” yelled a heavyset man dressed in a horrible costume of that one furry thing you shot at with the sorcerer’s ring, shaking an empty black cauldron. “Gald? Did I hear gald? Donate to the Colloyd Fan Club today!”

Lloyd angrily threw the pamphlet down and stomped on it with his big, goofy Penguinist feet. “Look, I don’t have time for this -- do you morons know where Origin’s Seal is or not?!”

“Don’t have a cow, man,” said Trent as he gestured behind him, “it’s, like, right over there.”

Lloyd groaned as he waddled over. “Alright, c’mon out – let’s get this over with!”

“I mean, I dunno, man,” said a voice behind nearby foliage, “like, they keep saying they’ll give me my bonus, but my payroll hasn’t shown squat.”

“Those corporate fat cats are all the same, man,” said another voice, “I just never thought they’d hoard profits over anime kids smooching-”

“Hello! Don’t have all day here!” shouted Lloyd, cupping his mouth with his flippers.

“Aw, sh*t! Customer! Wait, hold on, who goes first?”

“Uh, I dunno, grab the script – hey, Trent! Who fights Lloyd?”

“Don’t ask me,” said Trent as he took another smoke, “I’m actually getting paid here.”

“You’re just as in this as we are! Get off your ass and help us!”

Exhausted flippers slid down Lloyd’s face. “Oh my god.”

“Ah, screw it – my 401k’s riding on this,” said one voice before their owner walked through the bushes – a literal red mop of hair sloppily planted onto the head of a dude wearing the plainest of purple shirts, armed with a conspicuously mop-less handle. “I’m not, uh, going easy this time. Aaaaaaaaaaaaah.”

The phony Kratos listlessly approached Lloyd only barely so much as swung his “sword” until our Penguinist hero unceremoniously slapped him where he stood – the character actor knocked out cold onto the forest floor.

“Yo, Frankie, you alri-oh,” said the Origin actor as he stepped out – a blinding rainbow of posterboard strapped to his waist, “uh, I hate people. A lot. Yeah. Mithos betrayed me just like my ex-girlfriend ditched me for that Aifread dunce-”

“Oh look, there he is,” said Trent, monotone as could be. “Take, uh, this.”

Unable to tear himself away from his iPod, Trent nonchalantly tossed his cigarette at the Origin cosplayer, its smoking-hot tip miraculously burning deep into his eye. Screaming in pain, the actor dramatically keeled over his tombstone as the cigarette fell and burned his posterboard gown to ashes.

“CONGLATURATION!” blared the hanging monitor, “YOU HAVE BEATEN A GREAT GAME. AND PROOVED THE JUSTICE OF OUR CULTURE. NOW GO AND REST OUR HEROES, AND ACCEPT GRATE BOON”

“What, we’re plagiarizing NES endings now?” groaned Lloyd before the solicitor creature handed him his prize…

…only to pull the Palma Potion back. “Yeah, so about those donations-”

Lloyd, picking up Trent’s pitiful excuse of a sword, wordlessly threw one of those out-of-place cutscene Demon Fangs at the solicitor, grabbing the potion from his greasy paws and grumbling about scams and cheap knock-offs.

“Finally, he’s gone,” said Trent as he blasted that one Simple Plan song plastered all over YTMND back in 2005. “How could this happen to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…”

“About time!” said the Fake Chosens as Lloyd emerged from the Dungeon Extravaganza, impatiently tapping their feet. “Now fork it over.”

“Here ya go,” said Lloyd as he handed over the hard-won potion, “enjoy your thinly-veiled alcohol.”

“Shh! They’ll raise the ESRB rating, you dunce! Anyway, I guess you’re looking for a reward…”

“Uh, do we even have anything left? I thought we spent everything playing the Pachislot game.”

Chapter 4 Chapter Text

“Annnnd over here we have the Secret Notebook, everybody! Completely useless and possessing no monetary value whatsoever! Who knows why the Chosen’s Group even had this! Hell, does anyone even want this thing? Starting at 10 gald!”

“Ooh, I dunno – I’m more of a Desian Ranch Card Key kinda guy…”

“Yeah, it’s like…you can just feel the raw energy from something like Sheena’s Letter or the Hakonesia Peak Pass since they actually helped on the journey, but who even remembers having this in their inventory?”

“Hang on, didn’t the in-game menu mention this was chock-full of Mizuho gossip? What kinda dirt we talkin’ here?”

“Good question!” yelled the auctioneer, “there’s mundane logs of Puninja walking his dog, crushing on one of his fellow kunoichis, how he hired an exorcist after Chief Igaguri’s ghost tried to possess his body-”

“Eh, 100 gald.”

“Annnnnnnnd sold!”

Lloyd sweat dropped. “That’s expensive!”

“Stop saying that!” said Raine as she smacked him upside the head – the professor and Zelos had already made their way there. “They’ll know you’re in there.”

“But is strapping the coffin to my back really necessary?” groaned Lloyd from the confines of his Coffinmaster outfit – hastily draped over his Penguinist costume, burdened with an Eldritch-coffin upon his back, and, worst of all, boiling him under the hot summer weather.

“Lloyd, you know how the Colloyd Fan Club is,” said Zelos, gesturing to cosplayers of the lovely couple mingling in the crowd, “those guys can sniff out the difference between every enemy texture swap right down to their stats. Honestly, it’s a miracle they didn’t search you on the spot."

“But it’s freaking hot in here! And I can feel whatever’s living in this thing rumbling around, and it’s really creeping me out.”

“Lloyd, do you have any idea how convenient it was that Presea was lugging around the corpse of a Coffinmaster for no apparent reason in the first place?” said Genis, waving his around.

“No, you don’t understand – I can literally hear Satan’s whisper coming from this thing-”

“And now presenting, the Desian Orb! Specially created for hiding the secret entrance with a giant rock for undisclosed reasons! Seriously, folks, why did they build that thing? How did Pietro procure this in the first place! Why was Lloyd randomly insecure about being unable to move that rock? I dunno! 5,000 gald!”

Raine clicked her tongue. “Another miss.”

“We still maintain a significant chunk of Gald left over from countless New Game+ playthroughs,” said Presea, “at the very least, the Derris Emblem should be relatively easy to procure.”

“…annnnnnnnnnnnnnd sold for 10,000 gald to the Desian footsoldier!”

“Ugh! Inferior beings!”

“But still! It could take forever for him to get to the Derris Emblem!” said Genis, waving his hand around.

Zelos snapped his finger in frustration. “Knowing how these things work, they’ll probably save it up until the very end.”

“—wait, what’s that? Yes, I’m told we’re skipping ahead to the ultimate prize to move the story along!”

“Spoke too soon,” said Zelos.

“The Derris Emblem!” said the auctioneer as he held the fabled Derris Kharlan artifact. “Who could forget all those touching speeches Lloyd gave, not the least in the linguistic texture of him saying “weird mirror”? Or when Colette defended the Alicia phantom for no reason during a Presea soulmate playthrough? Or those weird boss texture swaps that they reused for Mithos’s final form! My god, the memories associated with this thing! First bid!”

Lloyd raised his hand. “100 gald!”

Everyone slapped their heads.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of this,” said Zelos, “100,000 gald!”

“100,000 gald from the former Chosen of Tethe’alla, folks! Going once, going twice-”

Genis whooped. “We did it, Lloyd-”

Alas, as narrative suspense would have it, a chorus of gasps suddenly resounded through the crowd.

“Wait,” said Raine, “what is…that…”

A signpost stood proud amongst the crowd, 200,000 gald printed in bold magic marker across its white canvas. A thorny green stem curved around the wooden pole, locked in place by a brown, botanic bulb.

“Aw, fudge,” moaned Lloyd.

“Goddess Martel! We have a contender in our midst – none other than a Boxer Iris of the Gaoracchia Forest!” yelled the auctioneer. “Whoever knew that Tales of Symphonia fandom transcended species and captured the hearts of the monster kingdom!”

“Geez, was a punch in the gut or what?” said Zelos.

“You have no idea,” sighed Lloyd.

“Alright, the bid’s now at 200k! Going once, going twice-”

“Okay, okay – fine, 300,000 gald!” yelled Zelos.

“And that’s 300k! Going once-”

The Boxer Iris flipped its signpost, a “Try 500k, chump” printed in retaliation.

“Gah! 750k!”

Another flip. “What, too poor for a million?”

“Rrgh! Five million!”

“Better hope your trust fund covers ten mil.”

“Augh! Fifty mil!”

Raine turned to the party. “What’s the max counter for gald, again?”

“99,999,999 gald,” recited Presea, “that plays into the joke with the Hakonesia Pass costing 100,000,000.”

“Did we…even save up that much?” asked Lloyd.

Genis groans. “I think I know where this is going.”

“Alright, alright, cool it!” yelled the auctioneer, “now, much as the Colloyd Fan Club appreciates you funding their expenses for all eternity, it seems we’ve reached an impasse at 99,999,999 gald, and, uh…”

He turns backstage with a stage whisper. “Mark, does the rulebook go into this, or…?”

“Aw, give me a break!” yelled Zelos, “there’s no way that stupid plant has that much money!”

A flip of the signpost. “Right back at ya, you vain narcissist.”

“Okay, settle down, folks!” yelled the auctioneer, “the higher-ups at the Colloyd Fan Club have informed us that we’ll settle this through a match of the Izoold EB game-”

“Oh, come on!” protested Zelos, “how can that plant even emote? It’s just one giant eyeball!”

“This “giant eyeball” got me on the cover of Gaoracchia Monthly, y’know. Monsters dig that kinda thing.”

“Oh, what, you’re telling me you barbaric beasts are literate, let alone have standards?”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder – you’d do well to remember that, Mr. Philanderer.”

“Excuse me? Is a weak-ass monster like yourself the supreme arbiter of ethics now?”

“I’m ready to throw down if you are, pretty boy.”

“You wanna do this the hard way?” said Zelos as he unsheathed his sword, “look, we both know how this is gonna end – I’m like level 80, and you’re-”

BOP!

“Not the face!” yelled Zelos as the Boxer Iris slid over and unleashed a rapid-fire 100-punch combo, helpless against its ruthless onslaught.

“Sweet Colloyd!” yelled the auctioneer, “that Boxer Iris has clearly been hitting the gym, ladies and gentlemen! Zelos Wilder can’t even get a lick in!”

“No!” yelled Raine, “its strikes are inducing stagger! He doesn’t stand a chance with that speed!”

And just like that, the former Chosen of Tethe’alla was sprawled on the ground, seeing baby chicks. But the Boxer Iris wasn’t finished yet – its bulbous appendages rummaged through Zelos’s pockets, gleefully depriving him of a most valuable accessory.

“Not the Paralysis Charm! We need that!” yelled Lloyd.

“And to the victor goes the spoils! May the Boxer Iris come up stage and pay the full amount-bwargh!”

The Boxer Iris promptly slugged the auctioneer as it swiped the Derris Emblem, hoisting it aloft like it was the Triforce itself.

“Zelos was right!” said Genis as he waved his arm around, “I bet it was gonna steal the Derris Emblem all along! What’ll we do, Lloy-”

The half-elf turned to an empty seat, save for a discarded robe and a creepy, rumbling coffin.

“Oh no.”

Snickering as the crowd erupted into pandemonium, the Boxer Iris made to exit stage left

“Going somewhere?”

All fell silent as a lone warrior impeded the plant monster’s departure on stage – once the world’s greatest swordsman, yet reduced to the pitiful form of a Penguinist.

“Lloyd! No!” yelled Raine.

“It’s him!” shouted a Lloyd-dressed cultist, “contact Ms. Shippington! Now!”

Presea grimaced as the Colloyd fanatics ran off. “It’s too late.”

“Guys, stay out of this,” said Lloyd, “this is between me and…that thing.”

A defiant flipper rose to the offending monster. “This stupid plant’s been impeding me at every turn, and I’m done using this stupid costume as an excuse. It’s time we settled this.”

A signpost, followed by the beckoning of a bulb. “Bring it on.”

The pounding of a steady drumbeat rose in the background as Lloyd and the plant circled each other in parallel – the pronounced squeaks of rubber ducky footsteps accompanied by the suspenseful whistle of a recorder, stunning the crowd into silence.

Wah wah wah

“Think you’re tough, huh?” said Lloyd, “think you can just crash my wedding? Sucker punch me on my big day?”

Wah wah wah

A signpost. “This town ain’t big enough for the two of us.”

Wah wah wah wah

“You can say that, again,” said Lloyd, “we’re settling this right now.”

Wah wah

The two archenemies slowly came to a stop, staring each other down as whistles echoed on.

“I love flowers,” whispered Colette, her gentle voice carried by the winds of memory, “they’re the symbol of a healthy world.”

Her blue eyes, big as the sky, met his as she held her pink lily to his white specimen. “Whatever happens, don’t hurt the flowers, Lloyd. They’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Colette,” whispered Lloyd, “I’ll have to break my promise again for the fiftieth time.”

And then, they charged.

Guitars surged, trumpets blared, and chorists sang as Lloyd and the Boxer Iris charged at each other, the former screaming a war cry as they made to strike: boxing bulb meeting polyester flipper – a collision that rippled a roaring shockwave throughout the audience.

AYYYEEAAAAHHHH

WAH WAH WAH

The two exchanged lightning-speed blows, the punches that so easily took down Zelos matched with slap after slap. Lesser folk would’ve fainted in the mere presence of such a bout, yet the whole crowd were instead glued to their seats, spellbound by the duel unfolding before them.

“It can’t be!” said Genis, “how’s Lloyd keeping up?

“It’s his Exsphere!” said Raine, “he’s already grown used to the Penguinist suit!”

AYYYEEAAAAHHHH

WAH WAH WAH

Jab after jab; slap after slap -- neither yielded any ground, both combatants fighting for causes virtuous and true: for Lloyd, it was one true love (and getting the hell out of this suit); for the Boxer Iris, it was being a massive dick.

AYYYEEAAAAHHHH

WAH WAH WAH WAH

“Lloyd…” moaned Zelos, bloody and bruised, “destroy…my Cruxis Cry...stal…”

“You’re not keeling over just yet,” said Presea, braving the intense turbulence to drag him back.

AYYYEEAAAAHHHH

WAH WAH

On and on the battle went, the trumpets playing into a speeding crescendo, yet Lloyd felt it first – the weariness settling in his bones, threatening to sag his arms and leave him open for one, decisive KO. He needed a strategy, and quick! But what would work?

An idea springs to mind – if his mother’s Exsphere attuned him to the suit…!

“TIGER…“ yelled Lloyd as he jabbed upwards, deflecting a fist upwards before crashing his flipper down the other. “FLIPPER!”

The crowd cheered as the one-two combo stunned the plant monster where it stood, seeing stars as Lloyd readied the motherload of all slaps for its big, round weak point.

“You’re mine!” Lloyd shouted in vindication.

Time slows as the Boxer Iris accepted its fate, awaiting the sting of lightning-speed fabric as Lloyd grinning with the taste of victory.

And then…

“This is the part where something goes wrong, right?” asked Zelos.

Raine blinked. “What?”

“I mean, you know how these fics go – there’s some sort of left-field happenstance that snatches defeat from the jaws of victory. Dunno what it’d be though, given that Lloyd’s like 0.5 milliseconds from slapping that monster’s lights out.”

“Ugh, would you shut up, Zelos?” said Lloyd as he turned to the crowd, “I’ll be down in just a mo-HRK!”

That brown, bulbous fist slammed across Lloyd’s face in its heaviest punch yet, slow-motion capturing every last goofy smear frame as poor warped, jiggled, and contorted via picture-perfect animation as he tumbled and slid across the stage. Amidst his stumble did his bundle of Soft Leather slip from his pockets, falling to the ground below.

Raising a fist in victory, the Boxer Iris promptly fled the scene as Raine smacked Zelos upside the head.

“Ugh…no, the Wabberjock!” groaned Lloyd, weakly raising a flipper as the plant monster ran towards the front market.

“Hurry, we gotta chase after it!” said Genis, hopping off his seat as he wove his hand around, “otherwise-”

“PENGUINISSSSSSSSSSSST!!!!”

“You gotta be kidding me,” said Zelos.

Raine gasped as a horde of angry cat-people rampaged towards the auction. “No, the Katz! “They’ve caught up to us!”

“MEOW! COME MEET YOUR DOOM! MEOW!”

“Aaaahhhh!!!” yelled Lloyd, fear jumpstarting his bones as he made to escape – he leapt off the stage just in time before the Katz leapt where he stood, bloodthirsty claws mindlessly shredding the Soft Leather in the process.

“Damnit, damnit, damnit…!” swore Lloyd as he ran out into the street, “I gotta catch up with that-”

“There he is! You never picked up those props, fool!”

Lloyd’s eyes widened as an army of Wonder Chefs marched forth, each yielding giant utensils. “Do you have any idea what we’ve been through you’ve just been running around? Now that the food’s done, it’s payback time!”

“Aw, geez! I just—” said Lloyd, panickedly running another direction “Please, just leave me alone-”

“Ah, yes, there’s our cash cow!” yelled Valentina, armed with a camera and running down the other street with countless Colloyd Fan Club members in tow, “observe our golden goose, trapped between a rock and a Multi-Line Linear Motion Battle System as he’s lost all the keys for unzipping that pathetic outfit! And on Colloyd Day, of all days! Can he possibly escape rock bottom?”

“No, no! Go away-”

“KILL HIM, MEOW! DEVOUR HIS ENTRAILS, MEOW!”

“You never helped me across the street, young man!” yelled the old lady, shaking her cane.

“¡Mátalo!” screamed one of the zombies from Resident Evil 4.

“WHHHHYYYY???” yelled Lloyd as he ran off into the woods.

“No, Lloyd!” said Raine, “that’s where the wedding’s taking place!”

Right on cue, distant bells rang forth – resounding what should’ve been a joyous call into one of ominous dread.

“Oh! The wedding! It’s starting!” yelled one of the crowd members.

“Ain’t no time for auctionin’! We gotta see upload all the smoochin’ to DeviantArt!”

“C’mon, everybody!” yelled a member of the Colloyd Fan club, “COLLOYD DAY AWAITS!”

“Oh no!” yelled Genis as he wove his hand around, “we’re too late!”

The wedding itself was situated in a breathtaking clearing just outside Iselia. Shrouded by trees, the outdoor venue was sunlit perfection: a long runner ran proud across the ground, imbued with colors of azure blue and crimson red; the countless pews, meticulously littered across the greenery to seat each and every guest; the altar, erected before a giant tree, as if blessed by the holy visage of Yggdrasill itself. Truly, there was no better spot to bless the heroes of the united world.

As the wedding orchestra was playing the Tethe’alla House of Salvation theme, the crowd had already begun filing in: why, there was Clara of Palmacosta, Kate from Sybak, Altessa from Altessa’s House and Harley, Aisha, and Linar from Asgard – the latter having gone bald from endlessly rubbing his head in embarrassment. Every dog Colette named on their quest came prancing in, eager to see their human goddess married. Half-elves who’d long abandoned their self-imposed exile on Exire, the little Gnomelettes from the Temple of Earth, and all the other dwarves we never once saw in the game – all mingling together in harmony and guided to their assigned seats courtesy of the Colloyd Fan Club.

“Friends, as we gather here today,” began the head pastor of the Colloyd Fan Club, “let us not forget those late-night fanfiction.net binges – our beady little eyes and brains soaking up every morsel of romance we could, rereading our favorite pieces again and again just to get that sweet dopamine hit, our puberty-stricken hearts bursting full of unfamiliar thoughts and emotions…”

It was a time for joy and cheer – and yet, a seed of unease bloomed from one member of the audience. It was none other than Regal Bryant: the only present member of the party that saved the world. He was to meet with the other groomsmen, but was ushered into the pews by undiscerning cultists.

“This is very unusual,” said Regal, looking around in confusion. “There is no reason for them to be this late.”

George leaned over. “Perhaps I shall inquire as to their whereabouts? Everyone’s starting to grow rather antsy.”

“Hey, when’s the wedding starting? No one wants to hear this geezer ramble about the mid-aughts!” whispered one of the guests behind them.

“Yeah, I paid good money for this! The things I do for commission studies…”

“I endured the nonsense of a 15k+ multichap fic for this?”

Regal sighed. “I’ll look into it.”

Fending off the conspicuous embarrassment of walking down the runner, Regal approached the pastor. “Excuse me, you wouldn’t happen to know where the couple of the hour is?”

“Ah ah! Please, back to your seat, sir – I was just about to rouse the crowd into that one songfic featuring Garth Brooks-”

“Sir, with all due respect, I’d like to think the last forty-three pages have indulged in enough nostalgia-”

“Oh, they’ll be here soon, I’m sure. Now, if you’ll join me-”

A sudden rumble shook the clearing, a cacophony of commotion rippling through the audience as its intensity grew.

Regal squinted as he peered past the clearing, faintly making out a mob of indecipherable silhouettes scrambling amidst the trees. “What is…that?”

And then the dam broke.

Penguinist Lloyd came running out of the woods, screaming as a horde of Katz, Colloyd Fan Club members, Wonder Chefs, and innumerable NPCs chased after him in a mad fury. The entire wedding screamed in confusion as the mob closed in, threatening to swallow them whole.

“MEOW, SLAY THE PENGUINIST WHERE HE STANDS! MEOW!”

“CLEAN UP OUR PROPS! NOW!” yelled the Wonder Chef.

“GIVE UP YOUR PRIVACY FOR THE SAKE OF COLLOYD DAY!” yelled Shippington.

“Aaah! AAAH! AAAAAAAHHHH!!!” screamed Lloyd.

“What is this ominous mob that threatens to engulf us?!” yelled Regal.

Instinct driving forth desperation, Lloyd bellyslid down the runner. “Ha! You’ll never catch me now-”

Alas, Lloyd’s incredible lack of foresight sending him crashing straight into the altar itself. The ensuing impact shook the very air itself, comedic irony compounded by a Smash Bros. party ball descending from the heavens and spraying confetti over his twitching form.

“I’m sorry…Dad…” he mumbled.

“Wait, that death quote,” said Regal as he leaned down, “Lloyd? Is that you?!”

“Ugh…Regal? I-I can’t-”

“HE’S INCAPCITATED, MEOW! KILL HIM!” howled the head Katz.

“Hold it right there!” yelled the Wonder Chef, “we have business with Mr. Irving there! Don’t you murder him until we do first!”

“You two won’t be murdering any meal tickets today!” yelled the Colloyd Fan Club president. “We’re talking ratings, ratings, RATINGS!”

“I’m, like, so stoned off my ass, guys,” said Trent.

“MEOW! DO NOT INTEREFERE WITH THE KATZ ASSASSINATION GROUP, MEOW!”

All the aggrieved factions talked over each other, their heated arguments coalescing in discordant conjunction with the audience’s confusion.

“Lloyd, what on earth is going on?” said Regal, his head flickering back and forth in astoundment, “and why are you in that suit?”

“Ask him,” said Lloyd, weakly lifting a flipper.

“Damnit, Lloyd,” said Zelos as he and the others ran up, “just what happened to you?!”

“What happened to me?” asked Lloyd angrily, “oh, nothing – just that I showed up at my own wedding in this stupid suit thanks to you!”

“Wait a moment,” said the Heimdall elder, “are you saying that dunce is Lloyd?!”

Uproar spread like wildfire throughout the crowd, mingling amidst the squabbling of Lloyd’s pursuers.

“It can’t be!” yelled Mighty.

“But it is!” said Linar, rubbing the bald globe of his head.

“Inconceivable!” said one of the Papal Knights.

“My goodness,” said the elven storyteller, cuddling his massive rabbit plushie close, “I came all the way down from the gorge for this foolishness?”

“Oh, great! Now everyone knows!” moaned Lloyd, pressing a flipper to his face, “how does this keep getting worse?”

“Because courage is the magic that turns dreams into reality!”

Everything went dead silent.

Bone-chilling horror slid down everyone’s spines, succumbing to morbid curiosity as they all dared to turn around. There, at the very back of the wedding, were seated none other than Marta, Emil and Ricther from The Sequel Whose Name Shall Not Be Spoken.

Lloyd swore words not fit to be printed here. “Goddamnit! I said they weren’t invited! Who let them in?!”

“Oh, uh…sorry, yeah…we didn’t mean it…yeah…” mumbled Emil like the whiny little bitch ass he is.

“Gay subtext,” said Richter, espousing the only character trait I remember from that f*cking game.

“No, no! I thought that we-w-we-“

Having suddenly spoken like he’d just come down with a horrific cold, Lloyd sputtered as he patted his throat; Raine, recognizing the signs, hurriedly handed Lloyd a glass of water and a Recover spell.

“Ah! Thanks, Professor,” he said before turning back to the offending trio, “anyway, I thought we all agreed that was just a mass fever dream!”

“What, like the time you hallucinated Pac-Man floating around as your special ghost pal?” said Genis as he waved his hand around.

“Shut up, Genis!”

An earsplitting yowl erupted from the back, everyone cradling their ears as the Head Katz commanded their attention.

“BAD SEQUEL MATTERS NOT, MEOW! KILL THE PENGUINIST!”

“No, he needs to pick up after his mess!”

“We must record every last moment of his married life!”

“I’m sorry…I’m like the worst protagonist ever…yeah…”

“¡Ahí está!”

“It’s alll right. I just need to win against him. /fI won’t run away anymore.”

“Inferior beiiiiiiiiiings!”

All the selfish squabbling, ancient-ass memes, and horrific localization QA ricocheted Lloyd’s poor brain like a mad game of ping-pong, battering it back and forth as every last vocalization conjured a mad whirlwind, flushing the muscle into an end pit of despair -- taunting him, mocking him, reminding him of every last vice both Tales of Symphonia and its fandom had wrought.

Love had taught him patience with Colette hiding her pain. Courage had seen him through the union of the two worlds. But as he began seeing red, did he realize nothing had prepped him for the runaway elemental cargo shipwreck that was self-awareness.

“SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUUUP!”

The booming voice emitting from the goofy Penguinist groom left everyone shook.

“That does it; I’ve had enough! I’ve had enough of you morons trying to kill me, you sycophants leeching off our wedding and invading our private lives and and making a mockery of my entire life, I’m tired of being reminded of that…”sequel” even existing, and most of all, I’m sick of all you monsters trapezing around like you own the place!”

A defiant flipper pointed to the crowd. “Especially you! Yeah, I’m talking to you, buddy!”

Everyone followed the flipper’s direction to face the subject of Lloyd’s ire: a certain one-eyed tentacle monster, red rubies floating beneath in synchronized magic.

“What, who? Me?” it asked in the most nasal voice possible.

“Yeah, you!” said Lloyd. “What’re you even supposed to be, anyway?! You’re just a floating avatar no one actually fights!”

“Hey, c’mon, man,” said the overworld raven shadow, “he just got laid off and his girlfriend dumped him last week.”

“Yeah, leave him alone, guy,” said the overworld blob.

“Aw, shaddup! Do you know how it annoying it is when you two start jumping up and down and start running-”

“Lloyd, stop, calm down,” said Genis, waving his hand aro-

"No, enuffadat!” said Lloyd as he slapped down Genis’s hand. “What, was Namco too cheap to give you more than two cutscene animations? It’s already embarrassing enough our chibi models run around with all the grace of toddlers running around with swords – you react to everything from ranch explosions to killing your new half-elf overlord best friend like you're talking about the goddamn weather!”

“Don’t you strike Genis like that!” said Raine, ready to retaliate.

“And you!” said Lloyd as he batted away the Professor Sage slap, “what’s you doing constantly slapping people like that? The CPS should’ve swung by for that spanking scene alone!”

Regal stepped forth. “Lloyd, I may be thoroughly lost with the current situation, but-”

“Aw, what -- El Presidente’s all sad he only has like maybe five lines in this whole stupid fic? I sure hope you can count on one hand, pal, because I bet that’s the number of fans who feel the same!”

“Lloyd, I-” started Zelos before he clammed up. “Yeah, actually, I probably deserve whatever you’d throw at me.”

“Ah, don’t you worry – Sheena already took care of that in Chapter 2! Naw, my beef’s with the rest of you!” Lloyd said as began walking down the runner. “Clara! Why’re you so stoked about being revived on the beach after your husband and daughter were brutally murdered? Kate, why you gotta adjust your glasses every time you speak? Neil, why’re all the Palmacosta women into your bland cardboard ass? Seles, why is it every time you speak you sound like Jimmy Neutron’s bulbous-ass head ready to do a Brain Blast-”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk, Robin,” mumbled Zelos.

“Aw, shaddup!” said Lloyd, manifesting a Teen Titans Go! Blu-Ray he tosses at Zelos. “Point is, I’m surrounded by complete idiots, and this was supposed to be the biggest day in our lives, and I’m stuck running around in this stupid suit, and all I wanted was just…just…”

Breathing in all the resentment and failure that’d blackened his special day, Lloyd’s deepest wish came flowing forth.

“I just wanted to make Colette happy, goddamnit!”

“But Lloyd,” said the sweet voice of an angel, “you’ve already made me happy.”

Lloyd was frozen stiff, the collective resounding of gasps gone unheard in his shock.

Mustering all the courage he’d tempered through traveling, swordfighting, and falling in love, Lloyd dared to turn around.

What he saw was nothing less than divine intervention, for there stood Colette: encased in a Pink Penguinist outfit.

Chapter 5 Chapter Text

Everyone remained speechless at Colette’s state of dress – the overwhelming chaos that had upended the world’s greatest wedding in everything from the rabid bloodthirsty mob to the groom completely losing it and dressing up as a Penguinist, but for the bride to do the same? What madness had seized this most wondrous of days?

Paying no heed to their stupefaction, Colette waddled down the runner, rubber ducky footsteps accompanying every step as she approached her beloved.

“Ehehehe, how do I look?” she said sheepishly, blushing as her flipper batted at the stray traces of golden hair. “We tried hard to get it just right.”

“Colette,” said Lloyd. “W-what are you-”

“Surprised?” says Sheena, arms crossed with a grin. “Now you’re a perfect match.”

“Gosh, Sheena,” said Colette, blushing even deeper as she pressed her flippers together, “you’re embarrassing me.”

“But wait,” said Lloyd, resisting the urge to squeeze her senseless, “how’d you even know-”

“I already told you, sonny,” said Phaidra as she held a copy of the fic script, “I know everything, and I knew you wouldn’t get out of that silly outfit in time, so I had Colette dress up in a matching outfit.”

“I can’t believe it,” said Raine.

“No kidding,” said Genis, waving his hand around.

“B-but Colette,” said Lloyd, “you don’t understand – I lost the Derris Emblem, and…and, I’m going to be like this forever.”

Colette grasped one of his flippers with her own. “I know, Lloyd.”

“A-and you too! You’ll be a Penguinist forever! Why-”

“Lloyd,” said Colette, her other flipper joining in, “don’t you remember the mantra we repeated one million times during our journey?”

Lloyd stopped to think, brushing away all the countless quotes, memes and nonsense that’d enveloped his exasperated brain, giving voice to the one definitive truth he held more dear than anything else.

“You’re still you,” he whispered.

“And you’re still you,” she repeated, giving his flipper a reassuring squeeze.

Catching on, the woodwind soloist in the wedding orchestra brought out his ocarina and accompanied the ensuing speech with the inspiring tones of Lloyd’s theme.

“I never thought I’d have a wedding, Lloyd,” said Colette, pausing to dwell on long-ingrained melancholy, “I’ve always wanted one – and I’d always known you were the one I wanted to spend my life with – but I was told it was impossible. Such wants were unnecessary for the duties of the Chosen, and…I just accepted it as another dream that’d never come true.”

She traced a flipper upon the tip of his own. “But through it all, you were there with your smile and your courage, and much as I thought it to be wrong, much as I knew I wasn’t allowed, I fostered a secret seed of hope – hidden deep, deep away from everything and everyone. From the moment I accepted my death to our journey together, you’ve made me feel wanted and beautiful and cherished every day, and that gave me the courage to reciprocate that in kind and live life to the fullest. And because I was brave enough to take that step, what’s sprouted from that seed is the one thing I wanted more than anything else is right here, before my very eyes.

“And now that that’s come true…I don’t care if money-hungry Colloyd cultists exploit it for their own benefit, or if shoestring budget mistranslations muck up the dialogue, or bizarre fourth-wall shenanigans keep interrupting the story because author couldn’t bear to cut anything and now it’s blown up to a multi-chap – I’m just happy I have a wedding at all!

“I just love you so much, Lloyd. I knew it when we were children, and I knew it whenever I’d trace messages into your palm desperately I wishing I could convey my most forbidden thoughts, or whenever I’d scream out your name during unison attacks with other men and they’d play along by saying techniques in your voice, and I knew that meant they were cheering me on in their way…or maybe that was just what I told myself rather than calling out bad voice QA, but the point is!”

She gripped his flipper tight. “It’s because of you that I was able to grow that seed – far beyond the sixteen years I thought I’d have. It’s because of you that I’ve kept living, and we’re going to keep living, and we’ll make it over whatever bump in the road awaits us – just like now! I’ll gladly become a Penguinist if it meant staying by your side; this time, it’s a sacrifice worth living for.”

Colette smiled as bright as the sun. “Besides, haven’t the last fifty pages proven you’re still the best boy? Really, for all the metaphors, there’s no better Penguinist than you.”

Lloyd wiped a tear of newfound understanding. “You’re right,” he said before turning to the audience.

“In the midst of everything, we’ve all forgotten what really matters here. It’s not about making profits, fandom in-jokes, or taking the piss out of Tales of Symphonia – yes, these are all monuments for a dumb formative 2004 Gamecube RPG we love way too much, but Colloyd Day is about celebrating the hard-won unification between a couple that overcame internalized fatalism and ingrained family trauma spawned from the roots of millennia-long tyranny – enforcing myriad systemic injustices spanning across two worlds and ruining countless lives. It was their love for life -- their will for everyone to live -- that changed our lives forever, and amidst the Herculean task of reuniting worlds, bringing races together, and gathering abominable mockeries of life in Exspheres, it’s on this very day they’re able to realize their deepest dreams by finally sharing that love with each other."

Lloyd spread his flippers wide. “That’s what made all the fanfics, fanart and everything else so special: be it that sweet sugary fluff in us giggling and laughing in irresistibly adorable displays of young love, or our hearts soaring with vindication in Colette breaking free from her inhibitions and learning she doesn’t have to earn love, and me bridging that gap and making her feel loved -- it’s that tried-and-true, feel-good tenderness in knowing they finally live out their happy ever after is what we never tire of, like macaron filling oozing in your mouth with delectable vanilla cream and you just keep popping them into your mouth one by one and--”

He suddenly turns to the Wonder Chef. “Hey, that slice of heaven’s still on the menu, right?”

The Wonder Chef, crying a river of tears, gave a thumbs up. “You better believe it.”

“Good, but the point is,” said Lloyd as he took hold of Colette’s flippers. “I love Colette Brunel. I love kissing her good morning every day. I love her eyes deep and blue as the sky. I love the heart beating with adoration for everything for breathes. Nothing about this suit takes any of that away from her, and if her love for me makes her take the ultimate sacrifice to keep us together, then I can do the same!"

Lloyd turned to the crowd again. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: from the moment they’re born, everyone has the right to live, and that right is predicated upon having me and Colette smooch. And by God, if I have to marry her like this, then I’ll do it; hell, I’ll spend the rest of my life as a Penguinist if I have to!”

Thundering applause roars through the crowd, surging with the vindication of one true love persisting through the trials and tribulations of absurdist mascot costumes.

Lloyd turned back to his fiancé. “It’s gonna be rough being a Penguinist, y’know.”

“Oh, Lloyd,” giggled Colette, “I’ve gone through everything from religious trauma to losing my humanity to being kidnapped no less than three times to being possessed by 4000-year-old half-elves – I think I can handle living on fish.”

She steps closer, mischief dancing in her eyes. “Besides, I did say you looked good in anything; really, I just wanna squeeze the heck outta ya right now.”

“The feeling’s mutual!” said Lloyd as he moved to embrace her, “get over here, you!”

Everyone cooed with adoration as they squeezed each other senseless, breaking the Aselia record for the world’s longest “awwwwwwwwww.”

“Your cuteness has brought us to tears, meow,” said the Head Katz, “we offer a peace treaty until Baron Ali ever writes that Katz vs. Penguinist war fic he’s had as headcanon forever.”

“I’d completely forgotten about what drew me to Colloyd,” sobbed Valentina Shippington through her tears, “the amateur fanart I drew, the Livejournals I ran, all the unforgettable friendships I forged, reading fanfiction at the crack of dawn when I was fourteen and wishing I could have a romance like that…that’s it! We’ll give away all our wealth and become non-profit missionaries spreading the joy of Colloyd!”

“And I should, like, get a life,” said Trent.

“Aw, what the heck,” said Lloyd, “bring it in, guys!”

Everyone came together in a beautiful display of camaraderie, friends and enemies and strangers alike hugging each other tight in newfound forgiveness.

“Except for you three,” said Lloyd when a certain trio made to join the human circle, “you’re outta here.”

Raising the Sorcerer’s Ring, he shot a bubble that encased the horrible DOTNW people and sent them flying into space. Everyone cheered with joy as they continued hugging each other.

Lloyd pulled away from the one-eyed tentacle monster. “I guess I owe you an apology more than anyone, huh?”

“Aw, I get it,” said the monster with a dismissive wave of his tentacle, “not every day someone gets shoved into a joke enemy costume against their will. My happy ending’ll come one day.”

“On the contrary,” read a certain signpost, “you’ll get it today.”

Another chorus of gasps as everyone turned to face the latest arrival: none other than Lloyd’s archnemesis in the Boxer Iris.

“Flora!” gasped the one-eyed monster as his beloved stiffly shuffled down the runner.

“Flora?!” yelled Lloyd as the plant creature approached his new friend.

“Hello, Fred,” read the mute signboard.

“Flora!” cried Fred, “oh, Flora! I thought you said you never wanted to see me again!”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” said Flora before flipping her signpost, “after we fought over the linguistics of Gesea vs Prenis, I realized I couldn’t live without you. So I had this made.”

Everyone gasped again as the Boxer Iris got down on one knee and opened a tiny box, revealing the enchanting gleam of a Ruby-topped wedding ring.

“Will you marry me, Fred?”

“Oh, yes, Flora! Yes! You’ve made me the happiest monster alive! Put it on me!”

Everyone cheers as Flora slithers the ring on Fred’s tentacle – barring Lloyd, who couldn’t help but recognize how familiar the gold-encrusted, leather-bound, emerald-speckled ring seemed...

“Hey, wait a minute,” said Lloyd as he did a double-take, “that’s the Derris Emblem! And all the other stuff you stole!”

“Yes, sorry about all that,” said Flora, rubbing her petals with a sheepish bulb, “most of the ingredients for our wedding ring were in your possession and I had no choice but to brutally mug everyone.”

“Oh, well, um…”

“Just think of it as payback for all the times you cut me up in the Gaoracchia Forest, hmm?”

“I…yeah, sure.”

“Now go on, you crazy kids,” said Fred as he pulled Flora close, “go have your wedding!”

Colette took hold of Lloyd’s flipper. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be!” said Lloyd as he flashed his trademark grin. “Let’s do this!”

The wedding orchestra got to work as the two made their way down the runner, Lloyd’s theme seamlessly swelling into a spectacular crescendo – that inspiring anthem for infectious idealism and life affirmation surging through our hearts every time it played, never once deterred even when, just before they reached the altar, Colette tripped on absolutely nothing.

“Well, who didn’t see that coming!” said Lloyd as everyone laughed heartily, Colette protruding that playful tongue.

Before long, they were faced before the other – flipper in flipper; hand in hand.

“Do you, Colette Brunel, take the sweetest guy alive as your husband?” asked the pastor.

“I do.”

“And do you, Lloyd Irving, take the cutest girl in the world as your wife?”

“I do!”

“Then by the powers invested in me, you are now man and wife. You may now kiss the bride – or however Penguinists smooch, I dunno.”

And so, brought together by a different sort of fate – one wrapped in polyester fabric, baby-step waddling, and rubber-ducky footsteps, yet coated with love all the same -- did they finally kiss to tear-stained applause.

It was the glow that soon caught everyone’s attention; at first, it was thought as a trick of the light, yet as a spectrum of colors began entwined the two together, did the phenomenon become clear: mana itself had blessed this very union.

Everyone gasped as luminescence wreathed around the couple in its holy light, obscuring them in a rainbow of mana. The orchestra shifted on a dime, initiating a sweeping rendition of Starry Heavens (or the PS2 intro whose name I can never remember or that NA Gamecube instrumental theme you thought was cool when you were thirteen; I dunno, whatever floats your boat) as it accompanied the swirling colors, morphing to and fro in a grand spectrum of magic that left everyone breathless.

The lightshow eventually died down, and what was the 10,000^th gasp in this fic greeted the latest surprise: Lloyd and Colette were liberated from their Penguinist prisons, garbed in their brilliant black-and-white wedding outfits.

“L-Lloyd!” gasped Colette.

“Colette!” said Lloyd, giddily grabbing her hands, “look at us!”

“What the heck just happened?” asked Sheena.

“I’ll tell ya what happened: true love’s kiss broke the spell!”

Bagpipes greeted Dirk’s arrival as he came riding onto the scene with Noishe in tow.

“Dad!” said Lloyd. “Did you know this would happen?”

“It was in the Developer’s Bible, laddie!” said Dirk, waving the document in question around, “I was just hoping you’d be able to forge the Wabberjock before Colette caught on.”

“Well, uh, that’s kinda a cop-out,” said Zelos, “I mean, I guess it could be another metaphor of love overcoming any obstacle, but we just went over that-“

That black scriggly emoji spawned over a facepalming Raine. “You’re the one who got us into this whole mess in the first place, and you’re saying we need to go back?!”

“Look, I’m just saying reverting back to the status quo kinda upends the whole speech they gave; that, and a married life montage with them raising Penguinist babies would’ve been really funny, not to mention strangely adorable-”

“Read the room, bucko!” said the manifestation of Mana as she bonked Zelos over the head with her staff. “I left Gonzales to attend the wedding of the millennium and arrived just in time to witness their tear-jerking declarations of love and thought, what the heck, they earned it.”

“Well, that’s all well and good,” said Genis as he waved his hand around, “but can you get them to stop making out like that?!”

Indeed, Lloyd and Colette were engaging in the most intense smoochfest seen this side of Altamira – passionately sucking face like they needed air as the Colloyd Fan Club snapped pictures at every possible angle.

“Eh, after everything they’ve been through, I don’t blame them for letting out some steam,” said Mana with a shrug.

“Woohoo! Get it, Lloyd!” cheered Zelos, dodging Sheena’s blows as she yelled something along the lines of “you haven’t kissed me like that in a hot minute!”

“Oh yes, yes, yes!” said Shippington, nosebleeding all over the place as she set up the phone background of her dreams.

“You’re all hopeless,” moaned Raine – face thoroughly buried in her palms.

“Pwah!” said Lloyd as he broke the suction, Colette draped in a dreamy daze as he looked around. “Uh, sorry, you guys say something?”

“Nah, laddie,” said Dirk, everyone laughing heartily once more as he clapped his son’s back, “we was just sayin’ it was time for the reception!”

“About time!” said Lloyd as he lifted Colette into his arms. “You ready for some cake?”

Colette snuggled close. “Bring on the strawberries!”

Placing a kiss upon her flowered crown, Lloyd raised a fist and led the charge – everyone following in tow and cheering in celebration at the promise of food and merriment.

EPILOGUE

Situated in another outdoor clearing lay a most reverent reception – the greeting pessimism of the chalk sign’s "Today's Recommendation: Today is just no good” dismissed in lieu of strawberry shortcake and tenderloin – the main course amidst a veritable smorgasbord of fruits, sweets, and meats.

One particular cake sits upon the head table, its top strawberry-crowned tier adorned with miniature figures of Lloyd and Colette -- hand-crafted by Lloyd himself – as sculptures of friends, family, and countless dogs littered meticulously across the lower layers. Cutting the cake with the Material Blades, Lloyd handed the first slice to his wife.

“For you,” says Lloyd, delighting in Colette’s widening smile at the strawberry-infused vanilla.

“Oh, how sweet!” says Colette as she happily indulged, a grateful hand upon her full cheeks.

Lloyd chuckled at her cuteness before taking in the rest of the party – his loyal companions, reminiscing over their journey; his friends and associates, robotically miming NPC animations as they discussed nothing of interest; Valentina Shippington and the rest of the Colloyd Fan Club, reciting long-forgotten memories of Colloyd love confessions, embarassing attempts at songfics, and deleted stories lost to the fanfiction.net ether…

…and Dirk, drunkenly reciting all the Dwarven Vows to a captivated audience. “Aye, and then there was the Dwarven Vow for Lloyd’s *hic* internet addiction in #203: Goodnight LLOYDAMANIANCS when you *hic* jabroni marks without a life that don’t know it a work when you *hic* when you work a work…”

Grimacing at the shameless projection of Dirk’s own vices, Lloyd tuned out his adoptive father and turned his attention to a delectably fat slice of cake. Impaling a piece with his plastic fork, he raises it to his lips and…

“A fine wedding, indeed.”

Deprived of sweet strawberry joy, Lloyd turned to face the offending guest only to raise an eyebrow.

“Oh, you’re here too?” said Lloyd.

Yuan crossed his arms. “You don’t have to sound so unhappy, you know.”

“Ha, sorry, long day,” said Lloyd as he continued eating. “So what’s up? Haven’t seen you since…uh, you inexplicably disappeared after Heimdall.”

Yuan coughed. “Well, the author could simply end things on a maudlin reception, but in the interest of answering the last remaining question on every reader’s mind, we have a surprise for you…”

“Oh?” said Lloyd, chewing on his cake.

“Lloyd,” said Yuan, “we’ve set up communications with Kratos on Derris-Kharlan – he’d like to congratulate you on your wedding.”

Lloyd dropped his meal, plate and utensils and all – the entire reception going quiet, unable to trust their own ears amidst the clattering of forgotten steel and sweets.

“NO WAY! KRATOS?! REALLY!?!” yelled Lloyd in joy.

“That’s right,” said Yuan, a rare smile gracing his countenance, “in fact, he’s ready to give his message.”

Lloyd’s eyes wet with tears. All those training sessions, the innumerable clues that Kratos was his father, long-obscured memories of riding his father’s shoulders underneath the starlit sky, the time when Kratos beat them all at Jenga…

“Oh, Lloyd! I’m so happy for you!” said Colette as she clasped her hands together.

“Kratos? Kratos?! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!” yelled Shippington, the entire female half of the fan club screeching at the chance to witness the star of their teenage fantasies.

“Oh sweet Martel Queen of Heaven,” whispered Dirk at the prospect of seeing his mancrush.

“Well, what’re you waiting for!” said Lloyd, practically hopping up and down, “put him on already!”

“Patience,” said Yuan as he snapped his fingers, “it’s all taken care of.”

The Renegades wheeled in a magitechnology contraption of sorts – one yours truly is certainly not visualizing as the amazing machine furniture from Animal Crossing, albeit furnished in that sparkly-clean Tales of Symphonia motif. Everyone oohed and aahed as the blinking lights and bulbous antennas came to life, to and fro as the machine emitted a hypnotic golden light.

Said light materialized into a projected screen: countless specks of static morphing and twisting into indistinguishable shapes amidst an earsplitting cacophony of radio noise, granting not a speck of decipherable definition -- barring the occasional breakthrough of a familiar voice.

“KRSSKHSHHSTHHSKR-LLOYD-SHTHHSHTSHTHSHT”

Lloyd co*cks his head in confusion. “Uhh…”

“Dang it,” said one of the Renegades as he kept kicking the machine, the screen fidgeting wildly with every strike until the holy visage of Kratos’s face slowly through – eliciting a symphony of screeching fangirl cheers as loud as a Justin Timberlake concert.

“Dad!” said Lloyd.

"I WOULD LIK-KRSSHHTT—TO CONGRATU-KSHSSSHT-MY BELOVED SON-KKSHRSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHT"

“Hey, we can barely hear him!” complained Lloyd.

“Hmm, it was working fine up north,” said Yuan as he cranked the dial. “That’s outer space reception for you; let’s see if this works.”

“LLOYD--KRKRRSHT—I AM--KSHHSUGHT--SO PROU--KRRRSSHHHHHTTTTTTTT”

“Goddamned Micro Center,” says Yuan as he begins kicking it.

“WELL AREN’T WE CLEVE-RKRRRSSHSHHT-EN’T WE CLEVER-KRRSSHHHHHT—WELL AREN’T WE-KRRSSSHHTTT-”

Whipping out his double-edged weapon, Yuan slams down a mighty blast of Indignation onto the machine.

“THIS AREA—KRRSSHT—TOO CONFINE—KRRSHSHSHT—FOOTING IS POOR-KRRSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHT”

All was still as the fumbled call from beyond the heavens jumbled and meshed into protracted discordance, the solidarity of silent disappointment chilling through the crowd until a blinding yellow error message popped up.

“Hello,” said the voice of a monotone angel, “Derris Kharlan is currently experiencing technical difficulties; to compensate, here's an embarrassing picture of a baby Lloyd. As you can see, he is completely naked -- his posterior is particularly round that morning; rosy, like peaches glistening with dew on the misty spring mornings of Ozette."

“DAD!” yelled Lloyd in embarrassment amidst the chorus of laughter.

“Aw, that’s so cute!” giggled Colette.

“Here’s some home video footage of that misty morning; Sweet Martel, look at that schlong – wiggling back and forth like a Sandworm tunneling through the dunes of the Triet Desert.”

“Ugh, I lost to…inferior beings!”

Lloyd didn’t think: as Motoi Sakuraba’s biggest banger in Fatalize started rockin’ dat guitar, he ran up to the projection and began slicing away; alas, his toddler wang waved faster than a Sonic Sword Rain – dodging every swing at awesome lightspeed. Everyone barring a blushing Colette had just about keeled over in laughter, not the least in Genis and Zelos.

“Ugh, I’m running out of TP!” screamed Lloyd.

“Teehee,” giggled Zelos.

“SERIOUSLY?!? SOMEONE GIVE ME A HAND HERE!”

Yuan kept kicking the machine until, at last, the glorious vision of Kratos displayed unimpeded.

“…and that’s when I said—Lloyd, what’re you doing?”

“SONIC SWORD RAI-Oh, Da-Kratos!”

“Did my reception go through? I noticed something seemed off-”

“Oh, no problem – I’m sure you were having the time of your life talking to yourself while you were busy showing my baby ding-dong to everyone!”

“Now, Lloyd – embarassment is the right of the father.”

“Ugh! Don’t tell me you picked up the Dwarven Vows from Dad!”

“Gave me a copy of the entire volume, as a matter of fact,” said Kratos, lifting the book in question, “they’ve been quite a hit here at Derris-Kharlan – you can’t walk five steps in this violet abyss without hearing “Play hard, play often” and “Nicki Minaj will jump out of the closet if you don’t eat your vegetables.”

Another eruption of laughter, Lloyd burying his face in embarrassment at every nugget of information just divulged.

“But, more importantly,” said Kratos as he flashed a smile rarer than Yuan’s, “as expected, you are looking well. Your mother would be very proud.”

“Dad…”

Colette walked up as she entwined arms with her husband. “Don’t worry, Kratos; I’ll make sure your son doesn’t get up to any trouble down here,” she said before planting a big, wet smooch on Lloyd’s cheek – the object of her affections flushing deep red as the audience aww’d.

“Ah, young love,” sighed Kratos, “it was much the same for me – or, well, I guess as close as it gets for a 4000-year-old human. The way Anna’s bobcut blew in the wind – or, wait, was that a ponytail? Maybe long hair. I’m not sure; it was rather vague.”

“Dad!”

“Anyway,” said Kratos, “as you may expect, it’s actually very boring over here – perhaps I shall exploit one of my new hobbies to liven things up?”

Before Lloyd could even answer, Kratos slid down a pair of shades as a Rastafarian hat materialized upon his auburn locks. Flexing his fingers, his hands got to work on a pair of Tales of Symphonia vinyls, the touch of mana blessing that sweet, sexy trumpet of Regal’s Theme into a full-blown wedding waltz.

Getting with the groove, everyone pairs up and hits the dance floor – sans Phaidra and Yuan, simply content with people-watching.

“Not going to dance, sonny?” said Phaidra, legs propped up as she indulged in some steamy Yuan/Botta yaoi.

“As the DJ would tell you, I’m already spoken for,” said Yuan, pretending he did not just see that.

“Suit yourself,” said Colette’s grandmother, elaborately licking her thumb before turning a page.

Lloyd and Colette were smack-dab in the center, dancing elegantly in the way only love could provide.

“Well, that was certainly a wedding,” said Lloyd, flushing as he made to scratch his cheek.

Colette grabbed his hand back, giggling at the unforgivable sin of letting go. “After everything we’ve been through? I’d say that was a walk in the park.”

Zelos descends Sheena into a seductive dip. “My Violent Demonic Banshee, my Voluptous Hunny, you are looking particularly ravishing tonight.”

Employing the Igaguri ninja arts, Sheena flipped the tables on her yelping husband, dipping him in turn. “Don’t think mid-aughts catcalling is gonna work on me now, buster,” said Sheena with a wink.

“Yes, dear.”

Genis was once again decked out in his Katz Costume, his heart thumping wild as Presea held his paws tight.

“I must admit, Genis,” she finally said, “I am feeling…conflicted.”

“Well, you know how it is with fanfiction,” said Genis as he took the plunge, “I’m sure they’ll let us get away with it.”

“Indeed,” said Presea as she squeezed his paws, lifting one up and sealing her allegiance with a kiss. “These are never leaving my sight.”

Regal danced in lockstep with Raine. “I get the impression we were only paired up due to process of elimination,” he said.

“You’re selling yourself short. Besides, I’m actually really into handcuffs.”

“What?”

“Shh – dance now, Hot Kinky Ruin Mode Action later.”

And that’s to say nothing about the vertable crop of crack pairings across the floor: Fred and Flora, lost in their own world; the confused projection of Kratos, now locked in a tug-of-war between Dirk and Valentina; Chocolat and Candy, now lesbians or something, I dunno (get it? They’re sweets! Ha.), and yes, even the Desian and the Mandragora were getting their game on.

“Inferior…beings...” whispered the Desian.

“I’m a goneeeeeerrrrr…for love,” said the Mandragora before pulling him in.

Lloyd beheld the sheer range of weirdness unfolding before him. “I’m…not so sure I agree. But at least it’s finally over.”

Colette giggled again. “Well, I’m sure you’ll forget all about that once they bring out the meatcakes, chilled to perfection.”

She blinked. “They are cold, right?”

Lloyd smiled as he took her by the chin, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“I lied,” he whispered before leaning in, “they’re actually hot.”

They kissed passionately as the dance went on, shameless memery wrapping them together into eternal bliss, treasured forevermore.

The Penguinist Problem - Baron_Ali (2024)

Chapter 1

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Chapter 2

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Chapter 3

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Chapter 4

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Chapter 5

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