Disclaimer: And so it was, the dark and brooding Brass came to write his disclaimer. Long and hard did he doth deliberate with himself upon the most original and witty way to lay aside any doubt of his non-existent ownership. Many an hour did he spend contemplating which comedic styles to use. Thousands of pencils died to his methodical chewing as he pondered such an integral part of his fic. So it's a wonder as to why he came up with this: I don't own Super Smash Bro. Melee.
Welcome to my authors notes! This is the part of the fic where I blindly fumble around with words in an effort to stall actually writing about the fic. Here is also where I dispense the cookie. Cookie goes to GundamAzurain. I had a good reason way back when I got it. But I kind of forgot it ^_^;;
Now again, I sucketh mightily for making you all wait for this chapter. I also suck for forgetting to work in a little romance into the plot, so I'm thinking of doing a little epilogue for the first part of Exile to put in the angst we all love to read. Let me know if you want me to do that, or if the fic is good enough without it. Still sucks though. It'll get better soon, I promise.
Ok we cut to fic now....
*********
"Er... excuse me?"
"What!" both men shouted at the same time. They looked confused for a moment, and then finally noticed the two swordsmen.
"Well," continued Marth, "I would just like clarification on the fact that you two just happened to jump out of the picture."
"Yes," the small plump one replied, "Yes we did."
"And that this castle is deserted?"
The green one looked around, "Looks that way."
"One more question..."
"Go ahead."
"JUST WHO IN THE HELL ARE YOU?!"
-------------------
Chapter 3: Side Tracked
------------------
"It's-a me, Mario!"
The lanky man in the green plumbers uniform rolled his eyes and sighed, "And I'm Luigi, his brother by some cruel twist of fate. Do you have to do the stupid accent every time you say that?"
Mario glanced at Luigi, a hurt expression flashing past, before being replaced by his usual grin. Luigi pretended not to notice, absent minded dusting his plumber suit. Mario shrugged, and turned back to the swordsman. Slowly it began to dawn on him that they were both armed and holding their weapons in a ready position. "Luigi run! Bowser's got some real fighters!" he screamed.
Luigi was about to protest, when Mario grabbed his collar and sprinted for the nearest door, dragging the taller man behind him. It was locked. He ran to the next, and found *that* was locked as well. Eventually he settled for just running. Marth and Link looked on with profound confusion as the plumber ran around the room dragging the furious Luigi behind him, the green clad plumber cursing the air blue.
"Hey Marth?" Link asked.
"Yeah Link?" Marth replied, sheathing the angry Falchion. Yes, his sword was angry. It had been dreaming of a cute pair of stiletto knives he had seen a while back, only to be disturbed from this recurring fantasy not once, but twice, both for a false alarm. It showed it's displeasure by making it difficult for his owner to put it back in it's sheath.
"Is this normal for foreign parts?"
"No," Marth assured him, struggling with the errant sword, "This is most definitely not normal behaviour."
"I see. I wouldn't ask, except every time I've ventured outside Hyrule's border I've been caught up in some kind of crazy adventure where a lot of people have tried to kill me."
"Well, is this any better?"
Link considered this. "Well... at least the guys that were trying to kill me weren't this... silly," he finished diplomatically, sliding the Master sword easily into it's sheath, slipping his shield around his shoulders. Marth shrugged. "So what do we do now?" Link inquired.
"Well, it's like a wild horse isn't it? Just wait until the bastard gets tired. Then we might be able to talk to him."
"I see."
They watched the pair of plumbers do a few more laps of the room.
Link sighed.
"This could take some time..."
---------------------
Bowser paced up and down the secluded castle chamber. He thought of it as a chamber. It was better than thinking of it as what it was, which would just be one of the castles many guest bedrooms.
He stopped his pacing to take another glance around the room. To be honest, this was the first time he had tried to take the Mushroom Kingdom by simply taking up residence in the palace. He had saved millions on minion costs, and his arch nemesis hadn't even heard of his bloodless coup. Peach was safely locked up ready for the torture chamber, his koopas had taken what they wanted in terms of loot and were already back home. It had been the perfect crime.
He was already thinking it wasn't the best idea he had ever had. What was the point in being an evil mastermind if you didn't have at least a little style. Just walking in and effectively mugging a country was just plain tasteless. He missed the grandness of hordes of koopa troopas marching past terrified Toads, paratroopas swooping down on unsuspecting subjects of the Mushroom Kingdom.
But what he missed most was his old nemesis. He growled in frustration. Mario could have at least done him the courtesy of mounting a small resistance. Bowser was forced to send a fake letter to him offering a cake to get him to the castle.
And that's were it started to go wrong. For one thing, he had brought his brother along with him. It had amused him at first watching them quarrel through the puzzles he had set up throughout the castle. He had rolled on the floor laughing his shell off when they failed to get past the first world. He had almost died when instead of working together, the ended up throwing bo-bombs at each other.
That had been a week ago. Now he was just plain annoyed. They still had yet to get past his first land of tricks, which was simply borderline pathetic. And he was here, watching them on various security cameras, getting more frustrated by the second. If his old foe was this stupid now, then it would be a simple matter to stomp down to meet him and kick him into submission. But things had to be done properly. He had to wait for Mario to come to him. That's what being Bowser meant. You did it by the book, worked in set patterns, made sure the hero would get to you eventually. It was just how the game was played.
He really wished he could break the rules just this once...
And he really really wished his so-called chamber wasn't painted pink.
--------------------
It was night now. Marth was sitting against a wall, dosing in the twilight, strategically placed so that he was partly illuminated by a shaft of moonlight creeping in through a window. The shadows and moonlight all added to the brooding hero effect that was the bane (and secret pride) of his life. However, the drool slowly sliding down from the corner of his mouth detracted from his sombre pose.
Link was leaning up against a wall, well hidden in the shadows, still wide awake. Tapping his foot. Arm's folded tightly around him. Eye brow twitching dangerously. Absolutely mad as hell. Because he had been waiting for hours now.
And the two plumbers were still running around the room, Mario still managing to scream his head off. Luigi had given up the shouting and merely allowed Mario to drag him around by his collar, a look of absolute disdain on his face. Still running around.
And around.
And around.
And around. Link's eyebrow twitch increased in twitches per minute.
And around.
And around. Link's foot stopped tapping. Never a good sign.
And around.
And aro- "I've had enough of this!" Link shouted. He whipped out his hook shot, and fired it directly into the floor just in front of the plumbers, sparks flying from the metal on stone contact. Mario, unable to stop his insane dash, tripped over the steel chain, slamming into the floor like a sack of muscle and bones.
The noise broke snapped Marth out of his dosing, his hand already at his sword as he opened his eyes. His curious gaze settled on the crumpled mess of plumber on the floor. "Got tired did they?"
Link retracted his chain, "Something like that," he said innocently. He snatched the dazed Mario off the ground, pining him to a handy wall, "Now, we get to talk... heh heh heh." Link's evil grin told Marth everything he needed to know about the little chat.
He tried to ignore the plump little man's whimpers, focussing on his brother. Unlike the Shorter one he seemed to have a highly calculating look in his eye, as if he was weighing up everything and everyone around him. He could tell he was particularly interested in Marth and Link by the fact he never even glanced at them. That was the mark of someone so good at observation he wouldn't find himself out of place in the KGB.
Marth knew his type from the Altean court. He was the smart younger brother of a courageous warrior, the kind often looked down on by warrior types. But smart Kings of Altea had learnt that these men were often the most dangerous. With their quick minds and powers of observation they were the number one cause of political controversy, using their skills to further the influence of their older less politically aware siblings.
Link coughed, a sign that his brief conversation with Mario was concluded. Marth took one last look at Luigi; he would have to keep an eye on that one.
"He say's he's come to rescue the Princess of this kingdom."
"Princess?"
"Yeah, going by the name of Pear-"
"Peach," Mario mumbled.
"Right, Peach. He say's she's been taken hostage by someone called Bowser, and that it's his duty to save her."
"Princess..." Marth repeated thoughtfully.
"Oh, and that Bowser is some kind of fire breathing, trap setting dragon."
"Princess..."
"Marth? You've gone all thoughtful on me."
"It's just that a Princess is often the daughter of a King."
"Generally speaking-"
"And king's tend to be in command of armies."
"Uh huh."
"And if we were to save said Pear-"
"Peach," Mario corrected.
"... said Peach, then said King may be grateful enough to offer us his army in defence of his homeland?"
Link shrugged, "He might."
Marth turned to Mario, "Guess we'll be giving you a hand then."
Luigi raised an eyebrow, "Your valour amazes me."
Marth frowned. The truth was he was getting more and more mercenary in his approach to his problems. In days gone by he would have simply drawn Falchion and made a fool out of himself by charging through all his obstacles. It was a far more honourable approach to rescue, and at the least garunteed marks for effort. Not like now when his first reaction was to calculate how he could turn the situation in his favour.
He shook himself. Now was not the time for second guessing his motives or actions. He had a job in front of him, and whether or not the honour in his intentions was in question, a life was a stake. He could not afford the inaction caused by doubt.
He cleared his throat, "Even so," he affected the generic pose for declaring his word in suitably dramatic fashion, drawing Falchion with a flash, "I am Marth, Prince of Altea. And I swear to you that I will save your princess, even at the cost of my own life, if needs be."
Link would later swear he could see sparkles forming in the air around Marth as he made his declaration. Mario was too lost in the momment to comment effectively. Luigi's response went unnoticed by all. He simply folded his arms and looked down. "Indeed," he said to the floor.
*******
Author's ego trip: Ok, it is pretty damn crap at the momment, but as the story progresses I can stop worrying about plot holes and just get caught up in the action, which improves my writing no end. Although I am rather proud of the way I fixed the end to this. Anyway, if I could just take a momment of your precious time to rant a bit.
Author's rant: Why is it people have forgotten to write in prose, and what's with all these plotless insanity fests, and why must every second fanfic be an en masse self-insert job, getting characters by begging other authors to review so they can be put in, and why must everyone forget how to spell/speak english/use good punctuation/ write a coherent sentence (god forbid), and just what is the deal with lifting crappy tv shows and making equally crappy fan fics out of them, reality tv never provides good quality on the screen so why must they fill up the net with them, and what is up with those damned authors who rant incessantly even when they only update their fic EVERY OTHER MONTH!!!!!!!!!! *pant*pant*pant* Ok...*pant*... I'm done now.
Ok, in all seriousness, best reviewer wins a cookie. Flames will be used to bake said cookie, so please do flame. Otherwise I'll have to hand out cookie dough, and that gets my hands all sticky.
Pre-read by the idiot author.
That's it I'm off to bed.
You still here?
Welcome to my authors notes! This is the part of the fic where I blindly fumble around with words in an effort to stall actually writing about the fic. Here is also where I dispense the cookie. Cookie goes to GundamAzurain. I had a good reason way back when I got it. But I kind of forgot it ^_^;;
Now again, I sucketh mightily for making you all wait for this chapter. I also suck for forgetting to work in a little romance into the plot, so I'm thinking of doing a little epilogue for the first part of Exile to put in the angst we all love to read. Let me know if you want me to do that, or if the fic is good enough without it. Still sucks though. It'll get better soon, I promise.
Ok we cut to fic now....
*********
"Er... excuse me?"
"What!" both men shouted at the same time. They looked confused for a moment, and then finally noticed the two swordsmen.
"Well," continued Marth, "I would just like clarification on the fact that you two just happened to jump out of the picture."
"Yes," the small plump one replied, "Yes we did."
"And that this castle is deserted?"
The green one looked around, "Looks that way."
"One more question..."
"Go ahead."
"JUST WHO IN THE HELL ARE YOU?!"
-------------------
Chapter 3: Side Tracked
------------------
"It's-a me, Mario!"
The lanky man in the green plumbers uniform rolled his eyes and sighed, "And I'm Luigi, his brother by some cruel twist of fate. Do you have to do the stupid accent every time you say that?"
Mario glanced at Luigi, a hurt expression flashing past, before being replaced by his usual grin. Luigi pretended not to notice, absent minded dusting his plumber suit. Mario shrugged, and turned back to the swordsman. Slowly it began to dawn on him that they were both armed and holding their weapons in a ready position. "Luigi run! Bowser's got some real fighters!" he screamed.
Luigi was about to protest, when Mario grabbed his collar and sprinted for the nearest door, dragging the taller man behind him. It was locked. He ran to the next, and found *that* was locked as well. Eventually he settled for just running. Marth and Link looked on with profound confusion as the plumber ran around the room dragging the furious Luigi behind him, the green clad plumber cursing the air blue.
"Hey Marth?" Link asked.
"Yeah Link?" Marth replied, sheathing the angry Falchion. Yes, his sword was angry. It had been dreaming of a cute pair of stiletto knives he had seen a while back, only to be disturbed from this recurring fantasy not once, but twice, both for a false alarm. It showed it's displeasure by making it difficult for his owner to put it back in it's sheath.
"Is this normal for foreign parts?"
"No," Marth assured him, struggling with the errant sword, "This is most definitely not normal behaviour."
"I see. I wouldn't ask, except every time I've ventured outside Hyrule's border I've been caught up in some kind of crazy adventure where a lot of people have tried to kill me."
"Well, is this any better?"
Link considered this. "Well... at least the guys that were trying to kill me weren't this... silly," he finished diplomatically, sliding the Master sword easily into it's sheath, slipping his shield around his shoulders. Marth shrugged. "So what do we do now?" Link inquired.
"Well, it's like a wild horse isn't it? Just wait until the bastard gets tired. Then we might be able to talk to him."
"I see."
They watched the pair of plumbers do a few more laps of the room.
Link sighed.
"This could take some time..."
---------------------
Bowser paced up and down the secluded castle chamber. He thought of it as a chamber. It was better than thinking of it as what it was, which would just be one of the castles many guest bedrooms.
He stopped his pacing to take another glance around the room. To be honest, this was the first time he had tried to take the Mushroom Kingdom by simply taking up residence in the palace. He had saved millions on minion costs, and his arch nemesis hadn't even heard of his bloodless coup. Peach was safely locked up ready for the torture chamber, his koopas had taken what they wanted in terms of loot and were already back home. It had been the perfect crime.
He was already thinking it wasn't the best idea he had ever had. What was the point in being an evil mastermind if you didn't have at least a little style. Just walking in and effectively mugging a country was just plain tasteless. He missed the grandness of hordes of koopa troopas marching past terrified Toads, paratroopas swooping down on unsuspecting subjects of the Mushroom Kingdom.
But what he missed most was his old nemesis. He growled in frustration. Mario could have at least done him the courtesy of mounting a small resistance. Bowser was forced to send a fake letter to him offering a cake to get him to the castle.
And that's were it started to go wrong. For one thing, he had brought his brother along with him. It had amused him at first watching them quarrel through the puzzles he had set up throughout the castle. He had rolled on the floor laughing his shell off when they failed to get past the first world. He had almost died when instead of working together, the ended up throwing bo-bombs at each other.
That had been a week ago. Now he was just plain annoyed. They still had yet to get past his first land of tricks, which was simply borderline pathetic. And he was here, watching them on various security cameras, getting more frustrated by the second. If his old foe was this stupid now, then it would be a simple matter to stomp down to meet him and kick him into submission. But things had to be done properly. He had to wait for Mario to come to him. That's what being Bowser meant. You did it by the book, worked in set patterns, made sure the hero would get to you eventually. It was just how the game was played.
He really wished he could break the rules just this once...
And he really really wished his so-called chamber wasn't painted pink.
--------------------
It was night now. Marth was sitting against a wall, dosing in the twilight, strategically placed so that he was partly illuminated by a shaft of moonlight creeping in through a window. The shadows and moonlight all added to the brooding hero effect that was the bane (and secret pride) of his life. However, the drool slowly sliding down from the corner of his mouth detracted from his sombre pose.
Link was leaning up against a wall, well hidden in the shadows, still wide awake. Tapping his foot. Arm's folded tightly around him. Eye brow twitching dangerously. Absolutely mad as hell. Because he had been waiting for hours now.
And the two plumbers were still running around the room, Mario still managing to scream his head off. Luigi had given up the shouting and merely allowed Mario to drag him around by his collar, a look of absolute disdain on his face. Still running around.
And around.
And around.
And around. Link's eyebrow twitch increased in twitches per minute.
And around.
And around. Link's foot stopped tapping. Never a good sign.
And around.
And aro- "I've had enough of this!" Link shouted. He whipped out his hook shot, and fired it directly into the floor just in front of the plumbers, sparks flying from the metal on stone contact. Mario, unable to stop his insane dash, tripped over the steel chain, slamming into the floor like a sack of muscle and bones.
The noise broke snapped Marth out of his dosing, his hand already at his sword as he opened his eyes. His curious gaze settled on the crumpled mess of plumber on the floor. "Got tired did they?"
Link retracted his chain, "Something like that," he said innocently. He snatched the dazed Mario off the ground, pining him to a handy wall, "Now, we get to talk... heh heh heh." Link's evil grin told Marth everything he needed to know about the little chat.
He tried to ignore the plump little man's whimpers, focussing on his brother. Unlike the Shorter one he seemed to have a highly calculating look in his eye, as if he was weighing up everything and everyone around him. He could tell he was particularly interested in Marth and Link by the fact he never even glanced at them. That was the mark of someone so good at observation he wouldn't find himself out of place in the KGB.
Marth knew his type from the Altean court. He was the smart younger brother of a courageous warrior, the kind often looked down on by warrior types. But smart Kings of Altea had learnt that these men were often the most dangerous. With their quick minds and powers of observation they were the number one cause of political controversy, using their skills to further the influence of their older less politically aware siblings.
Link coughed, a sign that his brief conversation with Mario was concluded. Marth took one last look at Luigi; he would have to keep an eye on that one.
"He say's he's come to rescue the Princess of this kingdom."
"Princess?"
"Yeah, going by the name of Pear-"
"Peach," Mario mumbled.
"Right, Peach. He say's she's been taken hostage by someone called Bowser, and that it's his duty to save her."
"Princess..." Marth repeated thoughtfully.
"Oh, and that Bowser is some kind of fire breathing, trap setting dragon."
"Princess..."
"Marth? You've gone all thoughtful on me."
"It's just that a Princess is often the daughter of a King."
"Generally speaking-"
"And king's tend to be in command of armies."
"Uh huh."
"And if we were to save said Pear-"
"Peach," Mario corrected.
"... said Peach, then said King may be grateful enough to offer us his army in defence of his homeland?"
Link shrugged, "He might."
Marth turned to Mario, "Guess we'll be giving you a hand then."
Luigi raised an eyebrow, "Your valour amazes me."
Marth frowned. The truth was he was getting more and more mercenary in his approach to his problems. In days gone by he would have simply drawn Falchion and made a fool out of himself by charging through all his obstacles. It was a far more honourable approach to rescue, and at the least garunteed marks for effort. Not like now when his first reaction was to calculate how he could turn the situation in his favour.
He shook himself. Now was not the time for second guessing his motives or actions. He had a job in front of him, and whether or not the honour in his intentions was in question, a life was a stake. He could not afford the inaction caused by doubt.
He cleared his throat, "Even so," he affected the generic pose for declaring his word in suitably dramatic fashion, drawing Falchion with a flash, "I am Marth, Prince of Altea. And I swear to you that I will save your princess, even at the cost of my own life, if needs be."
Link would later swear he could see sparkles forming in the air around Marth as he made his declaration. Mario was too lost in the momment to comment effectively. Luigi's response went unnoticed by all. He simply folded his arms and looked down. "Indeed," he said to the floor.
*******
Author's ego trip: Ok, it is pretty damn crap at the momment, but as the story progresses I can stop worrying about plot holes and just get caught up in the action, which improves my writing no end. Although I am rather proud of the way I fixed the end to this. Anyway, if I could just take a momment of your precious time to rant a bit.
Author's rant: Why is it people have forgotten to write in prose, and what's with all these plotless insanity fests, and why must every second fanfic be an en masse self-insert job, getting characters by begging other authors to review so they can be put in, and why must everyone forget how to spell/speak english/use good punctuation/ write a coherent sentence (god forbid), and just what is the deal with lifting crappy tv shows and making equally crappy fan fics out of them, reality tv never provides good quality on the screen so why must they fill up the net with them, and what is up with those damned authors who rant incessantly even when they only update their fic EVERY OTHER MONTH!!!!!!!!!! *pant*pant*pant* Ok...*pant*... I'm done now.
Ok, in all seriousness, best reviewer wins a cookie. Flames will be used to bake said cookie, so please do flame. Otherwise I'll have to hand out cookie dough, and that gets my hands all sticky.
Pre-read by the idiot author.
That's it I'm off to bed.
You still here?