Drake slammed into the wall hard enough to leave a cracked dent in the shape of a human back and a portion of arms, then dropped to the ground against said wall, looking up dazedly. His clothes were worn, his black hair, usually so slick and messy, hanging around his face with sweat. A large shadow of a figure loomed over him, looking down. After a moment he pressed one hand into the ground and got up with a stagger in his step, pulling up his hands in a futile gesture of defiance.
He was 'rewarded' with a very large scaly hand crushing him into the wall, pinning him within his own indentation and shoving him deeper. Stone scraped apart his clothing and dug into his skin painfully, but he refused to yell. He stared into the face behind the hand with a steely, wild expression, grinning openly through the pain.
"Is that all… you've got?" He spat spittle and blood onto the hand. The hand opened, claws jutting out from the fingertips, digging into the wall around him and grasping him by the torso along with a sparse amount of concrete. Drake was tossed overhead, landing with a bounce and a thud on the cold metallic floor, pieces of the wall pelting him. After the light faded from his eyes from the pain, he realized he had landed next to Frost and Kyra, laying unconscious on the floor. Thuds resounded the ground as his opponent stomped over to him, looming overhead with a sneer.
Bowser. Koopa-king, biggest, meanest turtle-dragon alive. They'd underestimated him.
His vision began to fail. Dimly Drake realized he was passing out. He wondered, as the lights faded from his view, how exactly he had gotten into this situation..

It had all began three days ago when he had signed up for some silly experiment. New virtual reality needed testing, limited people allowed. He hadn't signed up for a damn thing- he just got a letter in the mail saying "Hey! You've been accepted!" and, having nothing better to do in his 'life' at the time, went with it.
The letter had taken him to a building in the middle of town, but out of the way- behind a business complex, almost shack-like in its smallness. There had been stairs, and basements, and there was an extremely comfortable waiting room with blue velvet couches. He had been all alone in that room for some time, which was odd, now that he reflected back on it…

After an hour by his game boy advance clock, a very lovely young lady with purple hair in an obviously unneeded nurse getup had approached him and told him the superior would see him. She had spoken with a Russian accent, but looked very British for some reason to him. Maybe it was the face, the freckles, the hair, the eyes. Or maybe he had dated one too many British girls. He went in to see the 'superior'.
Superior? Bit of an odd name for some koony doctor. But he went with it. Not like there was anything else he was going to do. Besides, maybe he could get the girl- Dayle, he learned her name was, to give him her phone number.
The "Superior" didn't looked like anyone especially fancy. He was actually rather young- probably younger then himself, Drake had thought. Dirty blonde hair, blue-green eyes, and a very strange goatee that looked white when Drake looked at it from odd angles. Not that he went to lengths to, but he noticed it.

Mr. C, as the "Superior" preferred to be called, informed Drake he was going to undergo a few exams- just to make sure he was the proper person for the testing. After all, a bad reaction, an improper mental alignment, and a bunch of other terms Drake pretended to not understand while coming to the realization the Superior was a crackpot, could cause problems.
Dayle gave him a rather thorough physical exam. Over six feet tall, he provided some difficulty for the shorter- 5'9 at best, girl, but did his best to comply. He was well toned with muscular mass thanks to his "lifestyle." His black hair was all natural- but he wore green contacts. He was in perfect health- almost too perfect, if not for that odd sniffle he had gotten last week.
He had used the time to check out Dayle, of course. Short purple hair, vivid green eyes, and a freckled grin, all which were sent away by the Superior all too soon. He was so close to getting her number, too.
He answered the questions the Superior imposed. They were short, simple, and eccentric. Such examples included his favorite cheese, his mother's maiden name, whether he though a zombie could defeat a caveman with a large club. Drake was convinced "Mr. C" stood for "Mister Crackpot" at this point. He was far from an idiot, and he knew when he was being hoodwinked into or out of something when he was. Still, it was more fun then playing Pokemon on his game boy. Mr. C lead Drake back to the velvet blue couch waiting room and asked him to stay there for a short while.
Drake did so, and while doing so discovered the couches unfolded into beds. He wasn't sure why they did or why a crackpot would need blue velvet unfolding couch-beds, but he must have some reason as to why he was interested in Drake, and why he'd have such an assistant like Dayle running around with him.

He wasn't used to having to ponder such things, but it entertained him until Mr. C came back with the 'results'. He was good to go, no surprise there, and was led straight into a purely white room. He'd been tied to the chair, gotten comfortable, and left alone. After a few minutes, the light went out and a loud hum had filled the room.

A second later, he had been standing in the blue velvet waiting room again, only two other people were there with him- Frost and Kyra, and with only two doors out. Frost was spikey-haired, platinum blonde, new-age clothing and pretty-boyish. Way too calm for his own good, but he had wit, and Drake liked that. Kyra was hot, he had thought, what with her yellow-blonde hair and college-girl looks. He rather liked her, she had been full of fire.

A disembodied voice checked in on them and informed them this was the waiting room for all worlds- rather dramatic stuff for a Waiting Screen, Drake had thought. It -was- rather real. He was real, Kyra was real, Frost was real. He -had- wondered where exactly the other two had come from, he had been completely alone.. But then the Superior, Mr. C, had spoken, and so he listened to what the 'crackpot' had to say.
Basic stuff- This is a fake reality, this is the waiting room, get comfy, your physical needs are all being taken care of but you should definitely obey the mental urges to eat, sleep. Drake had wondered how long they were going to be here, exactly. He got his answer when Mr. C informed them that they would be spending quite a while in virtual reality, but not to worry, their minds processed information faster then they'd normally perceive reality, so as long as he wasn't slowing things down to talk to them, days in the virtual world could be only one day in the real one.

Drake knew the crackpot was lying by this point, but he refrained from telling the others. No need to cause undue worry. Just because he was an ass didn't mean he wanted to be an ass for the wrong reasons.

Then the Superior had told them just what he had been expecting to hear- there were 'problems.', but not to worry about them. Typical set up for a bigger problem later on. Start with small things, remind them there are issues, and when a big mother-fucking error comes along, they won't place the blame on you, even if you caused the damn problem.

They had spent a few hours sitting around talking when the voice had returned. They had their first test run to go through- and that there were a few problems with it, but nothing too severe. All they'd need to go is step through the door he had made glow. So they did.
And they'd ended up in the god damn Mushroom Kingdom. In the beginning of a small dungeon, actually. Kyra figured they should go through it like a game, so they did. They, of course, did not expect the pain to be as real as it was, but they managed. They even reached Bowser. But, that, obviously, is where they fell..