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If you asked people to name Galacta Knight’s most prominent character trait, you would get quite interesting results – they could vary a lot, depending on whom you asked.
Kirby had once called him energetic – in a positive way, that is. Not that it was a surprise for Kirby to always see the positive in people. She usually ran around Dreamland with the pink knight a lot, sometimes playing games, sometimes practicing flight, or sometimes being up to whatever shenanigans they could get their minds to. Creative could also be a good word to describe that behavior, sadly.
Tiff would probably describe him as hot-headed, seeing as the pink warrior was rather quick to draw his lance at things that irritated him even in the slightest. He wasn’t exactly stabbing people on a whim, but he liked having people at sword-point before even beginning to ask questions.
King DeDeDe’s opinion of him was very close to “aggressive”. Probably because the king was one of the people who could irritate Gala without even opening their mouth, and as such, he found himself at sword-point more often than not, magic crackling up in the air if he even dared to open his mouth. Granted, this made the king avoid Galacta at most times, so if one wanted a break from DeDeDe’s shenanigans, they’d simply have to stick to the pink warrior for a little while. It was something Escargoon did a lot, despite being quite intimidated by Gala.
The soldiers back at the GSA probably had a similar view of Galacta as DeDeDe – a scary, powerful warrior who was quick to anger, and even quicker to point his weapon at the source of that irritation. Sir Arthur just called it a bad temper, and he’d usually pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation whenever the topic came up.
In Meta Knight’s opinion, these guesses were all fair enough, but if he had to pinpoint one character trait as the source of all of the above, it was pretty simple.
Impatience.
“Meta!” Galacta’s voice came from the adjacent bedroom, tone slightly questioning. He was probably looking for something again – Meta Knight had cleaned up their bedroom earlier today, and Galacta was blissfully unable to find anything if it wasn’t in a mess. Seriously, the man could find a pin in a haystack immediately, but have him look for a specific book in an alphabetized shelf and he’d give up after 5 seconds. It was as if the presence of order alone was ticking him off. Maybe it was more fun to search for things when they were chaotic? Meta really couldn’t relate.
The blue knight kept sitting on the couch, sipping his coffee. Sword Knight, who was sitting on the floor across from him, sharpening his weapon, looked up for just a moment before returning his focus to his work.
“Meta, seriously,” he heard Galacta from the other room now, tone turning slightly irritated. The knight in question remained still on the couch, though Sword gave him a questioning gaze now. Meta just shook his head silently, trying his best to suppress the smile that was trying to creep onto his face. He never answered to Galacta’s calls – mostly because it happened so often. Meta was actually hoping that the other would just come over and ask if he had a question, not yell from the other room, but so far that hint hadn’t dropped quite yet.
“Meeety, please!” Ah, the change of tactics. Sweettalking. To give Galacta some credit, he could sound awfully adorable when he wanted to – it was really too bad for him that Meta Knight could see perfectly through the cutesy act. It was always stage three – first came questioning, then irritation, then sweettalk, and next would be Meta’s favourite part – namecalling.
There was a brief silence.
“AYO BATMAN.” Meta almost choked on his coffee, an ungraceful snort escaping his mouth, while Sword accidentally dropped the polishing cloth he had just been retrieving. Batman? That was… a new one. Meta and Sword stared at each other, both of them now really trying not to laugh.
The metallic clicking of sabatons on stone announced Gala’s arrival in the living room, and Meta turned around to look at the pink knight. He was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, hands on his hips, expression somewhere between a frown and a pout, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether to be angry or not. “Quit ignoring me you furry blueberry and get your ass over here before I stab it off the couch,” the pink warrior grumbled, flicking a strand of hair out of his face. “Excuse me,” Meta replied, setting down his now empty coffee cup, “furry what now?” Galacta rolled his eyes in response. “Courtesy of Kirby, not me. She compared your head to a blueberry yesterday. Now move it.”
“Would it hurt you to say please?” Meta snorted, though he was actually getting up now. Galacta bristled at that, the feathers of his wings fluffing up in agitation. “Excuse me? I TRIED that!” “Yeah, yelling it over from the other room, after the first attempts failed gloriousy,” the blue knight chuckled, watching the angry feathery display in amusement as he walked over.
“Your eyes are pink and I hate it,” Galacta grumbled, crossing his arms. “Well, they match yours then,” Meta smirked, catching the other’s chin with his hand and pressing a small kiss to his cheek. Gala’s wings fluffed up again at that, cheeks turning about the same pink shade as his hair. “Sappy. Now – p l e a s e – come help me. You cleaned up my damn things again and frankly I can’t find shit.”
Still chuckling, Meta followed the other to their room to finally relieve him from his misery.