Yes! I finally uploaded another chapter! In my defense, I had to make sure everything flowed the way I wanted.

Anyway, this will be in Kamella's POV. Enjoy!

Day 1: July 11, 1982

After meeting with Sir Bowser and his kids, we jet towards the Pipe Zone, koopalings in hand (and in my case, literally). Not to be confused with the Pipe Maze, the Pipe Zone's nothing more than an empty space consisting of ancient ruins, a grassy field and a curiosity-provoking patch of gravel in the middle, with three small obelisks surrounding the patch.

Guiding my broomstick with one hand while holding onto Roy via under my shoulder, I land near the patch of gravel, far ahead of Kamek and Kammy due to them needing to go slow for their second passengers. Speaking of, I should check Roy's condition; hopefully he's not startled over the flight. I take him out from under my arm and study him.

Roy's asleep as usual; poor thing's too used to war and commotion that a flight won't startle him. But that's a good thing. He needs to be tough; it's the Koopa way. The others failed at raising Ludwig and Lemmy to be tough, in my opinion. At least for now, Roy will be an easier koopaling to raise than either Ludwig or Lemmy; all Roy does is sleep, while Lemmy couldn't be even a foot away from a parent of his before he'd scream and cry... And Ludwig's tantrums; oh my word. He cried over EVERYTHING and he refused to sleep. Plus, Roy won't remember a lick about his family; that'll make raising him as the next king of Dark Land easier for me, I figure.

My patience for Kamek and Kammy wearing thin, I start pacing around the field, broomstick in one hand and Roy in the other. I start doing gentle rocking motions with him as I pace to keep him asleep, all while I keep an eye to the sky, hoping for their arrival at any moment.

A speck in the sky enlarges, followed by another such speck which also grows. As the objects got closer, I spot one with blue robes, and the other with purple.

Kamek and Kammy. About time!

As they land, the two koopalings hop off the brooms and the two magikoopas wielded the brooms.

"Woo, sorry for the wait, Kamella," Kammy apologized, "Lemmy needed the restroom. Y'know, flying and all that."

I roll my eyes; yeah, sure. These koopalings need to be more acquainted with magic; shame the Real World won't teach that.

"We need to hurry, before Traw gets to us," Kamek rushed as he pulls out his magic wand. Kammy repeats the process, while I lay my broom on the ground before pulling out mine.

"Vienna! Whitehorse! Brooklyn! Let's go!" Kammy chants before she smacks the northern obelisk with a purple energy ball from her wand. Kamek and I repeat the spell before we cast our blue and black energy balls at the southwest and southeast obelisks, respectively.

With the three obelisks buzzing, a small tremor occurs before a warp pipe budges out from the gravel field. This warp pipe, unlike any other warp pipe in the Mario World, can take us into any other galaxy or universe, including the Real World, if activated with three ancient magic energies. As far as I know, only Kamek, Kammy and I can perform this together, but I may be mistaken.

When the pipe stopped growing, Kamek, while holding Ludwig's hand, gets into the pipe, followed by Kammy and Lemmy.

"Well," I whispered to Roy, who by miracle still manages to stay asleep, "Time to say bye to the Mushroom World. Hopefully for now."

After my departing words, I jump down the tube, bracing myself to handle the Real World.

Day 2: July 12, 1982

I passed out in the Brooklyn sewers. Geez, I hate traveling through warp pipes.

Even worse: not only is Roy awake, but now he's screaming. He must be hungry; after all, I'm unsure how long I've been unconscious for, but I assume a few hours to a day. I need to recalibrate my Day counter for these entries; lame that I need to do that so soon.

Of course, I'm the most prepared magikoopa in Sir Bowser's army, so I have a bottle and a few packets of powdered formula for the kid. Unfortunately, no water. Err, no clean water. After all, water's abundant around here – it must've rained in New York recently – but I can't just use standing sewer water. That'd cause disease!

I sighed; I can't use magic in the Real World to the same degree as I could on Plit, but a simple fire spell may work in this atmosphere.

Sighting a metal bucket nearby, I grab it and dunk it into a large puddle of clear water. I then put the bucket on the ground, summon a fire spell with my wand and tap the bucket's side with the tip. About a half-minute later, the water's boiling; the water should be clean and sanitary now.

I tear apart the formula packet and dump the contents into the bucket before picking up the bucket (which did cool down, surprisingly) and swishing the liquid around until the powder mixes in. Satisfied with my stirring, I dump the water into the bottle and stuck the bottle tip in Roy's mouth. His screaming and crying end the moment the bottle touches his mouth. By Golly, I love how this kid acts compared to the two older brats' infant days.

With that situation resolved, I can focus on finding our apartment. I summon a map on my wand tip; a manhole about a thousand feet away will take us close to our high-rise.

The sewer offering only an unearthly stench, the walk towards the manhole proves uneventful. I climb the manhole's ladder and push the lid. Not wanting to be spotted leaving the sewers, I peek outside the now-open manhole, and I crawl out when I see the coast is clear.

"Oh, heavens!" I gasp as I stare at the building before me. Standing about forty stories in the air, the skyscraper towers over me. Knowing of my responsibilities, I've done research on cities, cityscapes and their ever-so-famous skyscrapers, but I never expected them to be this massive. It puts even Pipe Land's Metallic City to shame.

The building is also our flat.

Stunned, I walk towards the entrance and step inside the lobby. Elegant white marble coats the floor, walls and pillars of the lobby; we're in a high-end high-rise in Downtown Brooklyn; one meant for millionaires and royalty alike. To my left, a middle-aged human woman smiles as she places her folded hands onto the granite counter.

"Good morning!" the woman greeted as she pushes a brunette bang out of her face, "Are you new here?"

"Yes, we're new residents wanting to check in. The surname's under X," I stated with a fake Central Asian accent.

"X?!" the woman exclaimed, "I heard about you! You're the refugee from Afghanistan, right?"

I nod. For me and Roy to get residency visas to stay in New York, I had to tell a fib about us being former Soviet spies, backed by documents forged by Bowser and Kamek. Now that we're in a 'witness protection program', the United States government told us to pretend to be war refugees to stay hidden from possible Soviet mercenaries.

Ironically, the US government's lie is much closer to reality; just replace Soviet with Dark Land.

"Yep," I faked a tear, "I... I miss home sometimes, but I need... I need a safe place for him to grow up."

"I heard the Russians are doing a number to that place. I'm so sorry to hear," the woman apologized, genuine sadness in her eyes, "Do you need any help or anything?"

"We were... Not necessarily rich, but we were affluent," I mentioned. Of course, another fib, considering the Koopa Family's filthy rich, and renting a unit of this elegant apartment complex's only proof of such wealth, "So we have enough to stay here."

"Okay," the woman gives me a warm smile, "Please sign right here. Rent's due on the 1stof every month, although once every quarter, we can offer you a grace period up to the 5th. Utilities, water and everything else, all with a cap, comes included with the rent payment; exceed that cap and you'll pay extra."

I sign the lease papers, of course using my fake name. Smiling, I hand her the papers in exchange for the keys.

"Your apartment is Apartment 1366, located on the 13th floor. Your apartment contains the basics: a living area, a kitchen, a bedroom and a bathroom. We have two elevators, located on the east and west side of the building, each with their own elevator operators, while the stairs are to the north. We also have a modest grocery store, packed with the freshest, wholesome ingredients, on our basement level, as well as a laundromat by it. If you have any questions, please let me know."

"I will, thank you," I replied. Geez, I haven't been this nice for this long in ages.

"We try to make your living in Brooklyn as easy as possible, so over there to your left, we have many pamphlets here that have maps of Brooklyn and New York, popular destinations, eateries, subway stations, Amtrak schedules, all that."

"Thanks again."

Keys in hand, I walk towards the east elevator and spot a woman wearing a dark blue uniform showing resemblance to a ship captain just outside of it.

"Hello!" the woman greeted me as she opens the elevator for me, "I don't recognize you. Are you new?"

"Yes. I just checked in," I told her.

"Nice! I think you'll enjoy it here," the woman smiled, "Floor number?"

"13."

The woman smiles as she pushes the button for Floor 13 then closes the door. As the elevator rises, she introduces herself to me.

"I'm Pauline, nice to meet you."

"I'm Kamella," I stated, "And this right here is Roy."

"Kamella. Roy," Pauline repeated as the elevator door opens at Floor 13, "I hope to see you around more often!"

"Thanks."

I step out of the elevator, marveling at the hallway's décor. The white marble walls provide a great contrast with the red, velvety carpet. Massive topaz chandeliers hang from the ceiling, scattering light throughout the corridor. Obsidian railings fence off the middle part of the floor, which proves to be a lookout of the tenth floor's lobby's installed fountain. Overall, I love the place, although I do prefer the darker theme of the Dark Land castle.

I continue admiring the sights until I stumble upon our door: Apartment 1366. I open the door to a modest apartment whose carpet bears resemblance to the halls while the wall's white plaster imitates the lobby's marble. The bathroom's to my immediate left, while the bedroom, only bearing a bed, just across the hall from it.

Although only containing a modest antenna TV and a pluff couch, I gape as I study the living area: the opposing wall only consists of a giant window. I can see the northern side of downtown Brooklyn and even Manhattan from the window; only then did I comprehend the magnitude of this colossal city. Despite the beauty, I've never done well in cities, but that fact will need to change now.

Sighing, I retreat to the bedroom and lay Roy on one side of the bed. I need to get ready for bed.

Day 83: October 1, 1982

It's been almost 3 months since we've arrived in New York, and I feel as if I should make another entry concerning our developments.

This will also be my last entry due to reasons that even the pages of this journal shouldn't see.

The rest of July went on without any events worthy of recording. Roy and I stayed in our high-rise, only leaving for the grocery store on the bottom floor.

Roy finally spoke his first words during the beginning of August, and by now in October, can communicate well. Only thing is, due to our location, Roy's native language appears to be English rather than Darklandian Koopish; whenever I try to teach him the language of Dark Land, he only gives me a confused look before questioning me in English. Perhaps he's mentally not ready to learn another language yet, so I'll let him learn the language he needs here in New York. Still, I communicate with him in Koopish the entire time we lived here, but he still appears confused whenever I use it.

Likewise, he took his first steps towards the end of August. I was quite worried because by the time koopa kids hit 3 months, they should be walking. He's not too far behind average, considering he was around 3 and a half months old at the time. We explored Brooklyn together several times after Roy got stronger at walking; the tall buildings and massive crowds of Downtown amaze him, while if anything, they only stress me out more. I don't get how people love living in the cities, but I must find out for myself, I suppose. It's not like I have a choice.

During one of our walks, we pass by a higher-end kindergarten classroom stuffed with art supplies, science-themed posters and toys. A charter school. Naturally, this attracted Roy's attention, who then demanded that I sign him up for it. Hesitation overcame me at that time; I didn't trust the son of royalty to a bunch of stupid humans, but Roy was getting to the point where he can physically fend for himself. So, I signed him up, and now I'm picking him up. I'm glad he's eager to learn; despite koopas being able to learn quicker and at an earlier age than humans, koopas have a much harder time gaining knowledge than humans of the same age after around their twentieth birthday due to brain development no longer occurring.

"Kamella! Look at da drawin' I made!" Roy called out to me as he exits the kindergarten. Yep, he has a thick, full-on Brooklyn New Yorker accent... Even trickier for him to learn Darklandian Koopish now. This kid's screwed now if he ever returns to Dark Land. Thanks, Kindergarten. But at least I'm forced to better my English now.

Roy hands me a piece of paper and I stare at it, wide-eyed. He drew what appears to be a castle surrounded by exploding bombs, several stick figures fighting each other and another person shooting someone else with a gun-like object. Is he somehow remembering his experiences in Dark Land's civil war? A four-month-old koopa tends not to care for violence, and would rather settle for goonie bird drawings and other innocent art. I'm surprised the kindergarten didn't discipline Roy; from what I see, New Yorkers aren't as tolerant for such violent culture.

I look down at Roy, who's smiling about the picture. He's proud of his drawing, but I don't think he fully understands what he drew.

"Roy..." I questioned, "Where did you get this drawing idea from?"

Showing no emotions, Roy simply shrugs. I just hope he doesn't think grueling war scenes are normal and acceptable in culture, and I certainly hope he won't commit them. At least, not yet.

I hand the picture back to Roy and I grab hold of his hand.

"Kamella..." The koopaling questions me.

"Yes, Roy?" I question him as we cross Willoughby Street and head towards the high-rise.

"Was my drawin' bad?"

"Uhh..." I stuttered, debating between offending him and lying, "It was good, but you know not to do violence here, right?"

"What's violence?" Roy questioned.

I sigh, "Nevermind."

"Ok. Kamella?"

"What?!" I questioned, patience ticking low.

"I wanna go back tomorrow. Da drawing and writing were fun!"

I let out a groan as we enter the high-rise and push for the elevator. I was hoping this was just a day-old phase, but apparently, it's not.

"Fine. But next time, maybe draw goonie birds or something."

Roy nods, although with a confused look implanted on his face.

"What's a goonie bird?"

"... Nevermind."

The elevator door opens, revealing Pauline in her uniform. She smiles at us both as she pushes for the 13th floor. As the elevator rises, she begins uttering her usual small talk.

"Good afternoon, Kamella! And hi Roy! How was school?"

"It was fun! We learned stuff and we drawed pictures. I did dis one!" Roy exclaimed as he hands Pauline his picture. Pauline stares wide-eyed at the contents before handing it back to Roy.

"Uhh... Very, umm, creative, Roy!" Pauline stated, appearing unnerved at the violent-inspired drawing.

"That was my reaction, too," I replied, "Maybe he remembers part of the war we fled."

"Yeah. Poor kid. Kids should never be exposed to the things I'm sure he saw..." Pauline said with a sad grimace, "I hope he grows out of it. Kids might, depending on how young they fled the trauma."

The elevator arrives on the 13th floor and the door opens. Pauline and I say our goodbyes and I walk towards the apartment.

Anyway, that's where I'm at in life right now. I may stop writing these entries soon. After all, Roy's getting old enough to continue; he can definitely write if he can manage to draw violent pictures.

Until we meet again.

Au revoir.

- Kamella