Disclaimer: All characters from other media described herein are copyright their respective owners. I don't own Brawl, or any other the games they came from, alright?
Luigi was having a pretty good day, by his standards, at least. Not fantastic, because he wasn't home, knocking back a cherry soda and writing the latest Noel Flowstrand adventure while listening to the wind skate through the trees. It wasn't horrible either, like every other day had been for a while, because all the Brawls were cancelled. And all the Smashers had taken advantage of this impromptu day of rest, with only the most diehard training. Most had run off to Smashville or Delfino Plaza, and Luigi pretty much had the place all to himself.
He planned to make the most of it by writing for hours. Sure, he'd told his agent back in the Mushroom Kingdom to expect a severe delay for the next book, but he was nothing if not diligent. Also, his agent, a toad with a skin condition, didn't actually know he was Luigi, the other Mario brother, and Luigi wanted to keep it that way. So if he worked during every spare moment, and only got four hours of sleep a night, so be it. His standings took a small dive once he started his new regime, but he leveled out, and everyone just thought he got stuck in a bad-luck streak.
And so, Luigi found himself sitting outside the mansion, soaking up the sun, a well worn notebook in one hand and an artistically bitten pencil in the other. And of course, a cherry soda or five nestled in a picnic basket for good measure. Not a soul was in site, no one to break his silence or ask him for help training or to fix their bike or watch Toon Link while they took a nap. Nothing but him, the sun, and Noel Flowstrand. And five bottles of cherry soda, of course.
Yup. All in all, it was looking to be a pretty good day for Luigi. A pretty good day indeed.
Of course, with his kind of luck, y'know, the kind involving winning haunted mansions in a competition, he should've been pretty concerned with what a good day it was. Every single time he felt this way, something bad wound up happening; Princess Peach would get kidnapped again, a few demented talking stars would have a party (again), a strange and wild tournament style competition began and he just HAD to accept the invitation because Mario was going and his brother HATED being alone.
Bitter? Not at all. Luigi liked being thought of once in a while, even if it was to help his brother save his love interest from a gigantic mutated koopa. And Bowser played a good game of chess, when he wasn't break dancing, that is.
But still, Luigi should've been wary about how wonderful a day it was turning out to be. Well, as they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty, and he sometimes felt like he needed glasses.
He'd been writing for a while when it happened. Noel was in the middle of a rather sticky situation, involving several beehives and a 1-up, when a certain spherical, bright pink creature made its presence known.
"Hii!"
"GAH!" Luigi jumped, as he was known to do. He'd been completely immersed in his latest story, and he hadn't noticed Kirby slowly creeping towards him, crawling on the ground, alternating between periods of giggling and silence.
Luigi breathed in. He was easily spooked, but to combat it, he developed a system. All he had to do was get control of his breathing, and he'd be fine. Rather quickly, he was well enough to speak.
"Kirby," he began, gently, his voice soft and lilting like always. "What are you doing here?"
Kirby waved his arms and smiled widely. Luigi looked puzzled, even though he understood the other male perfectly. It was an easily picked up skill, one of many in the life of a Smasher, understanding Kirby's rather unique form of conversation.
"You thought I needed to talk to someone?" Luigi asked in disbelief. "Why ever would you think that?"
Kirby narrowed his eyes. Luigi gulped.
"Yes, I know I don't normally hang out with the other Smashers, but I far prefer doing my own thing."
Luigi heard a rumble in the distance. Despite his normal cluelessness, and tendency to get immersed in something, when he was alert, he was alert. He looked back at Kirby, and paled. He'd forgotten one thing, one crucial thing. Where ever Kirby was, Captain Falcon was sure to be near. They'd inexplicably befriended each other during the first tournament, and remained extremely close ever since. No Smasher ever really understood their relationship; no matter how many times someone had tried to rationalize it, no one ever did. One memorable brainstorming session landed Marth in the hospital with Doctor Mario's strict warning to never try it again.
"HELLO LUIGI!" Captain Falcon greeted him in his customary manner; loud, exuberant, and with a hip thrust thrown in for good measure.
Luigi winced. It may not have been surprised him, but the other man was loud, darn it. "Kirby already tried it, Captain."
"Well, it worked, didn't it?"
"When Kirby did it, yes."
Kirby beamed. Falcon turned to him, whispering. "What's that, Kirby? You want to see what Luigi's writing? Piece of cake!" He grinned.
Luigi remembered the last time he saw that look on Falcon's face. It was in a Brawl, and it was the last thing he saw. He woke up later in his room, a cherry soda by his bedside.
No one spoke of it again.
Falcon stepped towards the plumber, bending as he closed the distance between the two with a few short strides. He grabbed a shocked Luigi around the waist, and stood up, carrying the smaller man over his shoulder.
"Kirby what's the Captain doing?" Luigi asked, half curious has to what was happening, and half annoyed as to what was going on. He knew he wouldn't be getting anymore writing done today. Wait. Where'd his notebook go?
"Hii!" Kirby waved the small book he held in his hand. Luigi sighed.
"You don't seem to be putting up a struggle, Luigi," Falcon observed, as Kirby began scanning through the book. He didn't seem to be struggling with Luigi's handwriting, which, as far as Falcon could see, was horribly messy.
"I don't like fighting outside of Brawls," Luigi stated simply, crossing his arms. "Now can you please put me down? Your shoulder is cutting into my stomach."
Captain Falcon complied. Luigi gently rubbed his stomach while Falcon watched, looking sheepish.
"Sorry about that."
"No problem, it'll heal fast." And it was true. Master Hand, had, in the original tournament, discovered that the Smashers were prone to fighting outside of organized battle, and getting injured, while during they were protected through what he dubbed 'Smash Magic.' Outside, with Donkey Kong and Link fighting whenever they could, he was forced to take desperate measures, keeping every Smasher confined to their own rooms outside of battle. It made almost every player antsy and inclined to Cabin Fever, and the last few months of the first tournament, it was widely agreed, featured some of the most intense and bloodthirsty battles in Smash history.
For the next tournament, Master Hand had announced that 'Smash Magic' had given an extended range to protect them outside of battle. Most Smashers, at least, those who had watched the original tournaments, had rejoiced, Luigi one of the few, quiet, voices of dissent among them. He had enjoyed the solitude of his room; it allowed him to write more.
"Hii!" Kirby interjected. Falcon did as Kirby asked, and grabbed the book. Almost immediately, one phrase caught his eyes. He would never really admit it, but he was a fan of the Flowstrand Adventures. There was something about the delicate, subtle, slightly awkward style the author utilized that sat right with him. And, if he was reading the writing correctly, then either Luigi WAS the author, or he was a skilled imitato-
"OW!" Captain Falcon's thought process was interrupted by a smack from Kirby. Despite his small stature, the pink creature was able to put a lot of power in his hits. Luigi looked sheepish, while Kirby's expression seemed to be a combination of incredulous and embarrassed, with a hint of a glare thrown in for good measure.
"Captain?" Luigi began, looking at anywhere but him. "You were saying your thoughts out loud… I think."
Oh. That actually explained a lot of thi-"OW!"
Luigi coughed. "You were doing it again."
Falcon paled, and gained color back, in a span of five seconds. Luigi was sure that that wasn't healthy.
"So, Luigi! Did you write this?" Falcon asked, brightly. His words projected, like always.
Kirby face palmed.
"I… I mean, of COURSE you wrote this! Why else would you have these handwritten pages?" Falcon said, recovering quickly. "So does that mean you are the reclusive, famous, never-seen-in-public author of the Flowstrand Adventures?"
Kirby stared at him.
Falcon paled, again, a look of embarrassment on his face. Of cou-
"Yes, I wrote them. And you were thinking out loud." The 'again' went unspoken.
To Luigi, it was actually somewhat liberating to be free of this secret. There was no point to actually keep it a secret, after all. Maybe he'd even tell Ma- No. he'd never tell Mario.
"Unnn!" Kirby nudged Luigi, gesturing towards the picnic basket. Luigi nodded. Kirby smiled, and grabbed a soda. Captain Falcon grabbed two, tossing one to Luigi.
They spent the day drinking, sharing stories and laughing with each other, Luigi's notebook tucked into a pocket in his overalls.
Their friendship would soon become the second most notorious group of three in Smash history, after the infamous Marth/Falco/Lucario threesome, mainly due to the events of Luigi's birthday. Pit, Red, and Zelda all confessed to a fear of overstuffed arm chairs after the affair, while Ike could never look at confetti quite the same way.
The latest Noel Flowstrand adventure would be published one year after Brawl ended.
And the world rejoiced.
--
"Say, Luigi, do you think I could get an autograph?"
END
A/N Hey there, hope you enjoyed this. If not, tell me why, please! Erm... also, half of this came about at a sugar high around midnight, so I apologize. (and I apologize for the mention of beastiality...ish.. thing...
Happy Reading!
