Chapter 1: The Plan that Went Right
The sun cast its hot and glaring rays over the ivory sands of Koopa Beach. The sea massaged the shore, its hue a deep and beautiful blue, the crests of its waves sparkling a magificent white. It was the very definition of summer-holiday beaches, and so it was unsurprising that it was here that Mario was spending his summer holiday with Peach and Toad. He laid, gazing serenely at the sky, his sunglasses resting on his nose, a half-read book open and page down on his chest, and a glass, empty but for a straw and a sliver of almost-melted ice, lay by his side. A Koopa waiter, equipped with green shell, hawaiian shirt, and a tray scuttled over to where he lay, and wordlessly picked up the glass.
"Anything else, sir?" He attempted to mask his excitement at meeting the plumber behind glassy professionalism.
"Ah, yes." Mario brushed the book down to his knees, and sat up, pushing the glasses onto the top of his head. "Another Kola."
"Kola for me, too," Princess Peach put in, diverting her attention for a moment from her own book, a trashy 150-paged romance novellette entitled 'Depth of Emotion'.
"Certainly sir. And, uh, Madam." Peach flashed him a friendly grin, then returned to her book, and Mario to his sun-bathing. The waiter scuttled away, his feet tracing a deep trail in the baked sand.
Most of the tourists were Koopas, but
there was a quite large Toad population too. The beach was not particularly
crowded, due to the extremely high amounts that all of the surrounding
hotels charged, making it an almost exclusively upper-class holdiay spot.
Princess rescue certainy has its perks.
Kamek regarded this scene not directly, but through the pristine image of a crystal ball.
There are many myths about the practice of magic, but arguably none so far-fetched as those regarding far-seeing. The prime one is that such a practice is often done using a mirror. In fact, the silvered surface of a mirror is so dedicated to its usual task, it it extremely unwilling to mold to the far-seer's will. A mirror used for this task becomes noticably cloudy after being used only once or twice. Eventually, it becomes impossible to descern a reflection at all. What happens after that was unknown until only a few years ago, when an experiment was conducted into the area. The result was unexpected: The mirror begins phazing between a reflection, and strange, alien scenes and landscapes. Beyond this, the landscapes are replaced with bizarre and intense patterns of colors, kalidescoping behind the glass. For a few months after this discovery, it became a fad for young Magikoopas to spend hours gazing into these, believing that it was somehow some deep reflection on themselves, and it was sometimes used for fortunetelling. That had all, however, long since died out. Far-seeing remained confined to the crystal orbs.
Ludwig gazed over Kamek's shoulder, trying to make out the image, but he could not. It was like trying to watch a screen from its side, the beach scene seemed like a thin, two-dimensional film, shattered within the crystal. All he could see were sharp blobs of color.
"Anything?" he asked
"Mario," Kamek replied, "and Peach. They are sunbathing."
"Ah." He gave up on the sphere's vision, and instead turned to the room.
It was certainly atmospheric. The walls were a cluster of shelves, these lined with bottles, their contents often bubbling warmly, or books, or assorted odddities. Spaces were made only for the exit, and for the metal table which rested against the wall. This carried various odd pieces of equipment, such as kerosine burners and curved lenses, as well as several scrolls and quills. Hung from the ceiling were various charms, each containing both great meaning and great ornamental value. Two heavily decorative staffs were criss-crossed over the table in the manner of swords, their metal handles woven with fantastical beasts and designs, and pocked with gleaming gems. The center was currently dominated by a simple table and a chair, which was currently being used for the crystal ball. There was also a royal purple cusion on the floor next to it, which Kamek sat on whenever he was meditating.
Kamek, who had been leaning into the ball, straightened up. "It does not seem as thought they will move any time soon."
"Vot do you think ve should do?" Ludwig questioned.
"If you still want to carry out your plan, I believe this would be the perfect time to do so."
"Yes, yes, I guess you're right. But, uh- von't all the Mushroomers be expecting an attack round about now?"
"Of course," Kamek replied, simply. "But if mere Mushroomers perturb you, nothing will ever get done. I am sure that we could succeed."
"You're right. I'll talk to the others."
"Fine. I shall prepare." Kamek turned, and made a show of doing just that.
Wordlessly, Ludwig turned to the door.
A rectangle of electric light cut into the room's dim, musty air, and Ludwig
left.
It was a dangerous job. Extremely dangerous.
There would be a medal in it if he survived, of course. And enough gold
for him to retire, in his mid-twenties, and live on quite happily for the
rest of his life. Quite the
opportunity for a green-shelled Troopa.
But there was no denying it was dangerous. He truly doubted that he would
come out alive. His feet sank into the smooth, white sheet of sand, leaving
behind Koopa-shaped footprints. The soft, almost unnoticable breeze teased
his shirt, and it flapped around his hard, reptillian skin. Stupid shirt.
He hated it. It was necessary, of course, it would help him 'blend in'.
But he was so nervous! In the faces of every tourist, every waiter, every holiday-maker, he saw suspicion, hate. Imagining it, he told himself, they probably don't even notice me. For a few moments, he subconsciously concentrated both on not making eye-contact, and not looking like he was trying not to make eye contact, before snapping out of it.
And here was Mario, the celebrity, the hero, the saviour of the Mushroom Kingdom. The fat plumber's back was to the Koopa, and he seemed in some deep state of relaxation. Perfect. Well, as perfect as this situation could be.
He stood perfectly still, for just a moment, his ears untuned to the world, his eyes unfocused at the distant meeting of sea and sky, his head tilted to one side. And now my world ends, he thought randomly, and dropped.
As he fell, he clutched his limbs to
himself, and began to retract into his shell. Even the impulsive feeling
of safety, generated in every Koopa by ducking into their shell, could
not dull the terror. Utterly resigned, he
launched himself at the terrible and
invisible form of the sunbathing plumber.
Were it not for the situation's gravity, Peach's view of the attack would have been quite comical. The Koopa-driven shell barrelled into the back of Mario, sliding his head up its smooth, scaled surface, then pushing him along a few meters by his back. Peach and Mario cried out at almost exactly the same time, Peach's yelp sounding almost more pained than Mario's confused cry.
The shell eventually spun Mario sideways, and then continued onwards, towards the sea. Mario, his propulsion gone, slid around to a wet stop, ending up sitting and facing Peach, a shocked expression on his face.
"Ugh..." he began, but instead of continuing, leapt to his feet and turned to see his attacker, still at apparent full speed, shoot into the sea. A couple of Toads leapt in its direction, but it went uncaught.
"Mario!" the princess yelled suddenly,
apparently having regained control of herself. He ignored her, unturning.
He had decided that he would enjoy watching the Troopa drown.
Koopas are renowned for their utter lack of swimming ability, and that is without considering the heavy weight of their shells. The Troopa sank like a stone. Briny water seeped into the space between the Koopa and his shell, its stink assaulting his nostrils, and eventually his tastebuds.
Now for the hard bit, he thought,
grimly. He had taken a deep breath of the fresh, beachy air just before
he entered the water, and now had to hold it for as long as he possibly
could. If he put on the 'breathing
apparatus' too soon, a swimming Toad
would surely spot him through the ice-clear water.
His progress through the frigid water was painfully slow, his shell rotating over the sea bed like a lazy gyroscope. Finally, when his lungs seemed like they were about to explode with the firey tightness of suffocation, he ripped off his shell, grabbed the tube, fumbled it, grabbed again, and shoved it clumsily into his mouth, sucking the plastic-tasting air from the tank contained in his shell. He held for a moment, then bubbled it into the water, needing more.
After a few frantic breaths, he began
to slow down. He'd need every last bit of that air, as even this special
shell, made thin almost to breaking, could fit only the smallest tank.
He ripped the tank away from the shell
wall, grabbed the sack, which would
eventually be used as an air bubble for him to float on while he waited
to be picked up by a boat, and swam as fast as he could away from the shore.
The beach was now running with chaos. Mushroomers and Koopas alike dashed away from the beach, trying to round up family members, as the Troopas swarmed in. Their mission had been more simple than that of Mario's first attacker: simply to attack, with intent to kill, anybody they saw, except the princess, who was to be kept alive. Quite simple. There was also a small squad, indistinguishable from the others, whose only objective was to capture the princess.
This was all overseen by Iggy and Lemmy. The agreement that they would work together had been assumed from the start, and not a word had been exhanged over the decision. They sat on the dusty red tiles of a small building's roof, their legs dangling down in front. Their hair, bright almost to the point of luminescence, stood erect on their heads, but nobody had tried to attack them yet.
"We're going to die, aren't we?" Lemmy asked, cheerfully.
"Seems that way. Oh well, at least we get-"
"-to see some innocent Troopas die first." They sighed simultaniously.
"Oh well," continued Iggy, "At least we get to die for a good cause: another failed attempt from King Dad."
"Hey, hey, no need to get down about it. Think of all the good things: we're in a nice place, we can get cheap food, and, uh-"
"-plenty of Koopas?"
"Yeah, that's the spirit!" Lemmy rolled his ball absently over his lap.
"We are going to die, though, right?" This time, Iggy's face was wearing no smile. Honest worry had surfaced, for a moment, above the mask of jest.
"Yeah," Lemmy nodded, his own face now mirroring that sickly fear.
They both stared into the chaotic scene below, unseeing.
Lemmy broke the silence. "Well, as I see it, we have two options. Firstly, we could carry out our part of the plan now, or secondly we could have another game of Invisible Connect Four."
"Well, much as I enjoy trashing you, I think it's time to get ourselves trashed."
"I concur."
Their motion would have been odd to
a person who had never seen it before. They leaned forwards, until almost
at droppping, then suddenly let go completely, plummeting off the roof.
There were two dusty
thuds as the twin Koopalings, now both
inside their shells, made their landings and then shot out onto the sand,
breaking the sand with thick trails. Lemmy skitted over the sand directly
towards Mario, who was occupied with bouncing effortlessly from Troopa
to Troopa, anger mixed with a sort of ecstasy of combat. Iggy instead began
on a wide arc, which would allow him to reach Mario unseen until the end.
"Hey, Mario!" Lemmy starjumped easily into standing position, facing Mario.
"Lemmy..." Mario fixed his eyes on him, his legs working on their own.
"Hey, leave him, Troopas!" The Troopas, who had been waiting for this command, were all too pleased to oblige.
"What do you WANT?" yelled the princess, thrashing about to escape the hold of several Troopas.
"What do you think?" Lemmy rolled his eyes, then turned back to Mario. "And as for you, well, I've got good news and bad news."
"What?"
"The good news is, I don't have my ball, so I won't be throwing that at you." He paused for effect, trying not to look too directly over Mario's shoulder at the approaching figure, for fear of alerting Mario. "The bad news is-"
It would have greatly satisfied both Iggy and Lemmy to know that the spot that Iggy's full weight smashed into at that moment was the exact same one that the lone Troopa had hit only a few minutes ago.
"Aaaaah!" Mario yelped, unable to choke back the noise. Peach gulped the salty air in a loud, thick gasp.
Mario, laying on his back, performed the only defensive action he could think of, he rolled over onto his front. Wearing a cheerful grin, Lemmy, almost casually, sat on him, his grin widening at Mario's winded exhalation.
Iggy smiled with joy, then, with no forewarning at all, leapt at the princess, who seemed almost as immobalized as Mario himself. The unexpected addition of his weight pinned her finally, and he managed to knock her over completely, pinning her to the sand. Troopas hurried around them and began to tie her hands and feet together, while he remained still, his fanged, madly grinning face almost pushed into hers, his glasses hanging precariously under his eyes.
"Well, I think that I can say, without fear of contradiction-" Lemmy began.
"-that that was a complete and utter
success!" Iggy finished.
Finally, both the princess and Mario were bound, and carried back to Bowser's castle on a sea of green shells and their celebrating occupants. Resting back on the ivory sands, corpses of Toads and Koopas alike festered under the hot and glaring rays of the afternoon sun.
***
NOTES: Not much to say, other than if you liked it and/or have constructive feedback... tell me! And, er, more to come!
Chapter 2: Meanwhile, at Koopa Castle
Koopa Castle loomed, a fortress of shadow in the darkened forest. The doomship had left Koopa Beach long behind, and the sky had succumbed to evening. Fog lay about the ground, webbing the trees with whisps of gaseous silver. A sliver of sun remained above the horizon, casting a sickly yellow into the otherwise black and cloudy sky. The dark castle dominated its landscape, standing tall and huge above the treetops. Here, the doomship docked.
The doomship carried a cocktail of emotions and atmospheres. Relief. Joy. Hatred. Mourning. The good far outweighed the bad, however, and it was this spirit which was transferred from the ship to the castle along with its inhabitants. Mario and the princess, bound with tight ropes and escorted by hundreds, were bundled off of the construction of wood and metal, and into the gray, stoney castle. From there, they were brought to the dungeon, and locked in seperate cells, still bound by rope and chain, their gags removed.
The Troopas were released,
and they hurried back to their quarters to spread gossip and news, and
to change back into their military-issue shells. Iggy and Lemmy returned
to their own area to meet fellow Koopalings, identical grins on the twins'
faces. Their siblings, minus Larry, were all gathered in
their hall. They had
learned from Kamek what had transpired.
"Back in one piece?" Ludwig grinned, throwing the ball to Lemmy. Lemmy, the entertainer, dived into the ball, wrapping himself around it, rolling with it until he hit Morton's foot.
The room held the usual Royal Koopa grandness, oozing gold decoration and thick carpet. It was littered with statues: stone creations, their details picked out in gems. The centre was dominated with a table, mahogany with twisting ash vines embellishing the legs. A silent happiness was conducted in the air, both for the twins' well-being, and for the success of the plan.
"Yeah, I'm glad Mario didn't beat you into a mushy pulp, that's my job!" Roy exlaimed.
Lemmy sidled up to Iggy and adopted a theatre whisper, "Was that a compliment or not?"
"Uh- I hope so."
"Oh, good." He turned to Roy "Thank you for your show of affection."
"Whatever." Roy rolled his eyes.
"How's Mario doing?" Wendy grinned malevolently.
"Not too good, I'm afraid. DAD only knows why," Iggy replied, with joking thoughtfulness.
"Well, I'm amazed, shocked, awed, wonderous that you managed, succeeded in, capturing, kindapping, apprehending, bringing him in," Morton interjected.
"So am I." Iggy replied truthfully.
"So's he." Lemmy nodded at Roy.
"Got that right," snorted Roy.
"But seriously, I can't believe that they didn't have any security at all!" Iggy laughed, seating himself on the nearest chair.
"What about those Toads?" asked Wendy.
"I said 'security'."
"Good point."
"Smashed from behind by a Koopa Troopa! Larry would be proud." Lemmy giggled.
A thoughtful look crossed Ludwig's features. "Speaking of Larry-"
"We should talk to, ask, consult with, seek the council of Kamek."
"Hey Morton, did you finish the Thesaurus and move onto Lord of the Rings?" Lemmy grinned.
"What, pardon, come again?"
"Forget it. C'mon, let's go and see Kamek."
They went.
Kamek was Streaming. Farseeing is extremely difficult, and is made easier by both having a person to focus on, and a basic image of the place. In his hand stood a photo of the Mario Brothers' house, a picturesque, postcard scene complete with cloudless sky and blooming flowers. His eyes were closed though, he was seeing the photo on the insides of his eyelids. So far, he had been unable to focus, which meant that Larry must not be there yet. As soon as he could get a hold of it, which was akin to trying to grab onto smoke at the best of times, he would 'Stream' it into the crystal ball. After that, maintaining the Stream would be relatively easy, and he could look at his leisure.
Externally, none of this was obvious. Externally, Kamek was standing upright in the middle of a darkened room, lit only by the single flame of a torch, his head tilted completely to one side, his eyes closed, his arms dropped lifelessly by his side. It was this that the Koopalings saw when they entered the room's dark haze.
Lemmy, who led the string of Koopalings, quickly turned round, and was halfway through mouthing 'I think he's meditating' when Roy shoved past him, strode over to Kamek, and gave him a companiable, if not quite hard, lap on the back. Kamek almost managed to hide his jerk of surprise, but not quite.
"How yer doing, Kamek? Got 'im?" Roy laughed.
"Er, no." Kamek straightened his glasses needlessly, a trait which he had recently realised Iggy had picked up, probably from him. "Larry does not seem to be there. I shall keep on trying. It would be much easier without you here," he finished, bluntly.
"Aw, there's no hurry to see him, is there?" Wendy's voice was on the edge of winge, which always indicated that a tantrum was not far off. The 'science' of predicting Wendy's moods was, Ludwig had once said, "bordering on meteorology".
"I suppose not," Kamek sighed. He fully turned to regard the Koopalings through his silver-rimmed spectacles for the first time.
Kamek's face looks, from a distance, like the face of any common Magikoopa, or even a Koopa Troopa. His beak hooked over in the normal manner, but instead of sculpting his face into the cheery grin that most Koopas appear to wear on first sight, this beak had painted on his face a contemptous scowl, which often missuited his mood completely. Under the beak, his real expression was usually pleasant enough, but when angry, it would curdle readily. The velvet robe which clothed him was black, shimmering in the dim light with a pleasant, deep blue. His hands protruded, hard, tan Koopa skin with short claws, his right practically always containing a wand. He picked it off his work bench now, more from habit than reason.
"So then, vot do you think?" Ludwig asked Kamek for the first time, proudly.
"Ah, yes, congratulations
Lemmy, Iggy. I shall not begin celebrating immeditately, Larry's part is
just as vital." Kamek said, quietly. He pretended not to notice when Lemmy
began to whistle 'Always look at the
bright side of life',
and he was soon nudged quietly by Iggy.
"Yes, vell Larry's part is easy now that Mario is gone."
"Still, I would prefer to save my happiness for actual success."
Ludwig rolled his eyes. Iggy, troubled by Kamek's negative approach, asked, "Do you think anything's going to go wrong?"
"I could not say-"
"No, really," Iggy insisted. "Quit the diplomacy and tell us what you think."
"I think that he will do fine, but I have been wrong about that in the past. My past experience with the Brothers has been extremely negative, and since this is the last part that could really go wrong, you can understand my unwillingness to commit myself to the plan's success. As I said, however, my only prediction is that it will go well." Kamek fiddled with his glasses again, catching the flame in the lens and letting it glow golden from the thin frame.
"You are right, I suppose." Ludwig sighed. "Ve should go now, and leave you to your, uh, fortune-telling." Ludwig grinned, knowing that this term wound Kamek up.
Kamek nodded his goodbye, and the Koopalings filed into the hall's filament light and electric warmth. Ludwig hung back, and turned to Kamek again. "I just have this- feeling, you know?"
"Yes, I understand." Kamek nodded. "Perhaps it is ESP, perhaps not. Oddly, the psychic powers that associate with Magikoopas actually blot out the common ESP, rather than strengthen it, as many believe. There is actually an art to telling ESP from 'gut feeling', but I shall not bore you with it."
"Oh, good." Ludwig grinned. Behind his smile he was slightly annoyed. Why did all of his conversations with Kamek have to become so... so factual? "I vill be going now. Ve shall probably be back soon for news of Larry."
Kamek nodded goodbye again,
whirled around, fiddled with his glasses again, then turned to the photograph
nestled in his hand. He focused his consciousness on it, and whitened his
mind.
A Koopa Troopa sat in
a boat, rocking with the deep brine. He was being heated by a cheap gas
fire, cozy in its way, and the mug of warm coffee in his hand. A sort of
cynical contentness ran through his soaking and cold body. After being
fished out of the salt water, he had changed from his green diver's shell
to his green military-issue shell. When he got back, he would surely be
awarded a red military-issue shell, which he would then give in again under
a week later when he retired. This would be replaced by a green living
shell (or a blue one if his pay for this mission was high enough and he
could afford to splash out). But all that stretched far ahead of him, and
for now he could just sit, rocking with the brine, quenching his thirst,
warming his cold, resting his fatigue, being complimented and waited on
by sailors from the Navy division of the army. The white-washed walls were
stained, the water-proofed floorboards were dirty, the chair was old and
creaky, the gas fire was probably siphoning invisible carbon monoxide into
the salty air, but he ignored, and enjoyed his coffee.
The evening was summery, and although the sky was a dark blue, fading to black, it was still pleasantly warm. The sweet, aromatic scent of recently bloomed flowers wafted in the light breeze, their reds and greens dim in the the evening light. In the center of this scene sat the Mario Brothers' house, a warm glow of light radiating from each window, smoke chuffing cheerfully from the chimney. This picturesque scene was lost on Larry, however, who was in a black mood. He had been 'chosen' for this. He wouldn't have minded if he had drawn the short straw, or even if it had been some sort of vote. But no, Big Brother had told Little Brother to do probably the most dangerous part, and Little Brother just had to do it. As usual. And so here he was, lurking outside the house of his worst enemy and hoping to DAD that nobody would spot him. He understood the plan alright, and it even seemed like a quite good one (as Ludwig's go), but there were so many ways that it could go wrong, and he couldn't see himself escaping if it did.
He sighed.
The door loomed in front of him, quaint yet terrible. The flowers' perfume assaulted his nose. He hated them. So small and emotionless, no feeling, no personality, just a pretty color and a nice smell. And he didn't even like the smell.
He hovered in front of
the door a moment longer then, slowly, stretched a quavering hand out to
the doorbell. Another pause, and then he pressed it, dropped the large
note on the doormat, and dashed around to the side of the house, skidding
to an alert crouch with well practiced quietness. Thought had, for the
moment, left his mind, and left his body, a wound up spring, ready to react
to anything which might happen. Clearly he heard footsteps. Then the rustling
of paper. Then a quieter rustling, which he supposed was
Luigi reading the fake
telegram.
LUIGI STOP PLEASE COME AT ONCE TO NUMBER THIRTY-FOUR IN SPORE LANE STOP EXTREMELY URGENT STOP COME IMMEDIATELY STOPThe rustling stopped. No sound or movement at all eminated from the front of the house, and Larry became very aware of the sound of his own breathing and his own heart thumping. If Luigi suspected that it was a trick, if he turned around and went straight back into that house, slamming the door behind him, Larry had absolutely no idea what he'd do. And that wasn't even the worst that could happen. Supposing he really suspected something, supposing he began to look around the side of the house? He licked his lips
nervously.
Presently, the sound of
footsteps began again. For a moment, he was uncertain of which way they
were going, but it was quickly obvious that they were going away from the
house. For an endless fifteen seconds, he remained still, waiting for the
sound of footsteps to disappear altogether, then slipped around to the
front of the house. He had always enjoyed spying on his siblings, finding
out things that they had kept as private, and his abilities had progressed
through gossiping, eavesdropping, theft, and even lock-picking, so that
now it was the work of only half a minute to pick the lock. He chuckled
despite himself when he heard the satisfying click of a job well done deep
within the mechanism. His siblings had become wise long
ago to his antics, and
so most of their locks were as close to unpickable as possible. In comparison,
Mario's was a joke.
The inside of the house was every bit as warm and cozy as he had expected. It was all reds, greens, and creams, plushy rugs, comfortable furniture, and quaint ornaments. Larry despised it. The wallpaper was as characterless as the flowers, smooth and blank.
Hesitating then no longer,
Larry set about finding a suitable hiding spot. It would have to be large
enough to provide a home for him and his little kitbag for the next three
or four hours (Larry groaned audibly at the
thought), and also be
somewhere which Luigi would never look. Also an expert on hiding places
(for many a time had one of siblings returned to their room before he expected
them to, forcing him to - sometimes literally - dive for cover), Larry
quickly realised that really the only place he could go would be under
a bed. Realising further that if he was under Mario's, he wouldn't know
when Luigi was asleep, he reluctantly accepted that it would have to be
under Luigi's own. This entire thought process took him under three seconds.Cursing
under his breath, he made his way through to Luigi's bedroom, and then
eased himself slowly under the bed.
To Be Continued...
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