Another timely update. This time the delay was that I needed to revisit some games to make sure I got the speech patterns of a certain character right. Yeah, I take my fan-fic seriously :P. In any case I hope you enjoy the local color this detour added. Plot's finally starting to pick up. Maybe?
Mario appeared at the head of the stairs and came charging along the walkway, leaping over the fire blasters with exquisite timing, seemingly un-phased by this new addition to Bowser's arsenal. Always before, Peach had become sick with worry for him. Already, she was bracing herself for the nausea in the stomach, the tightness in the throat. But they never came. Instead, her euphoria kept growing stronger. Her gaze was riveted, unable to look away, not in horror this time, but in triumph. He was risking his life, and doing it, with the unthinking beauty of a dancer, for her. For her! She felt like Goddess Peach, one hundred feet tall and able to envelope the world in her skirts.
Now Mario was at the end of the causeway and Bowser was stepping forward to meet him, crouched low, the goad held defensively in front of him. Although he was even more ungainly than his opponent, he too was beautiful, Peach now realized, because of the ease and confidence of his movements and because he too was fighting for her. As they circled slowly, sizing each other up with a precision born of long practice, she felt a small cry of admiration catch in her throat. Bowser swung the goad wide and Mario dropped to the ground so it passed over his head, aiming a low circle kick at Bowser as he did so. It missed but, in jumping back to avoid it, the Koopa King put himself off balance and Mario came bounding to his feet, read to take the offensive.
The next moment, flame crackled from both combatant, meeting with a great explosion of white and gold sparks as their fire balls impacted and mutually obliterated each other. Peach could feel the heat from the explosion wash over her, tightening the skin of her face, and though this couldn't be true, seemed to feel it deep inside of her as well, even in the pit of her stomach. Always before, these pyrotechnic displays had frightened her and they still did but, as when she slipped in the closet, the fear made her happy as well.
Bowser definitely seemed to be getting the upper hand this time. If nothing else, the goad gave him a longer reach than normal, though his was already the greater and the extra fancy foot work needed to keep dodging this was beginning to tell on Mario. Peach could see it in his face but, even now, it was difficult to feel too much concern through her fascination with watching his battle skills. Although he was weakening, he was a long was from beaten, his eyes watching the path of the goad carefully each time Bowser swung it. Then, suddenly, he flung himself full on his foe, grabbing the goad with both hands. Roaring with fury, Bowser swung his weapon about wildly, lifting Mario into the air and jerking him back and forth like the tail of an erratic kite. Clinging desperately, the plumber actually managed to let go with one hand and, as he passed in one of his sweeping arcs, punched Bowser hard on the jaw. As he had doubtless intended, the koopa roared in shock, dropping the goad before he could stop himself. The impact on the hard stone of the platform looked like it would hurt but, if it did, Mario did not allow it to slow him down. Bouncing up so quickly he seemed to be on springs, he kicked the goad, sending it spinning across the platform to vanish over the side, dropping into the glowing lack of lava below and Bowser roared with fury at being deprived of his weapon. From there, the fight was virtually a walk over. Bowser was so surprised or frustrated that his plan had not worked that he wasn't thinking properly so Mario was able to grab him by the tail with ease, swing him around, and hurl him to the ground.
Than, as he lay stunned from the impact, Mario seized Peach by the hand and raced back along the walkway, the fire blasters having fortunately shut off after he passed the first time. On the far side, as always, a small Lakitu cloud was waiting, which Bowser thoughtfully provided so that, in the event that she was rescued, Peach wouldn't have to walk all the way home. Though, she imagined, he was significantly less pleased about the fact that, by default, he was also providing transportation to Mario. Sinking down gratefully on the soft cloud and catching her skirts up around her feet, she smiled over at Mario who had climbed onto the cloud next to her and was casting it off from the castle wall.
"Thank you for rescuing me," she said sweetly, as they rose into the air, drifting gently and soundlessly, except when they they were bounced occasionally by an unusually strong gust of wind and Peach couldn't help feeling resentment over the fact that Bowser always had to carry her off in the noisy, lurching clown car, instead of one of these nice clouds.
"Don't a mention it, Princess," said Mario, tipping his hat to her, which had somehow managed to stay on throughout his fight. "It was a nothing. I hope you're a alright."
"Fine, thanks to you." But, inside, Peach could feel herself wince and gave a little shudder with her shoulders as if she had an itch, in an attempt to hide it. Sure, she want's harmed by Bowser, actually felt it was rather inane of him to ask her as she never had been in her whole long history of kidnapping. Sure there had been a few scares, like the time when he had tied her up and hung her from the ceiling to lure Mario into his trap. But, even that had not resulted in anything remotely resembling serious injury, nor had it been intended to. But, despite the fact that Bowser himself was about as dangerous as a tame puppy, Peach wasn't really sure she was alright at all. How could she be after having such horrible thoughts? And then she became aware that Mario was staring at her with a look of total horror and she felt a wave of heat pass through her as if she were about to faint, certain that he could somehow read her thoughts.
"That a beast," he cried, angrier than she had ever seen him. "I'll a kill him. What did he a do to you?"
"Who? What?" Peach mumbled stupidly, gradually realizing his gaze of horror was directed not into her soul but at her shoulder. In her earlier wince and shudder, the short, puffed sleeve of her dress had slipped up, revealing a blotchy, purple and green bruise which must have been formed when she slammed into the wall. Knowing there was a physical sign of her weirdness, her stupidity, was so much the worse, but she had to keep the situation under control...somehow. "Oh, this?" she tried to keep her voice light. "You've got it all wrong, Mario. Bowser didn't do this."
"Really?" His eyes narrowed. "How did it a happen then?"
"I...uh...fell down." Peach was a horrible liar and even though this wasn't technically a lie, it still was.
Mario, clearly, wasn't fully convinced but couldn't bring himself to challenge her directly. "If you a say so, Peach," he replied, almost sadly. "But, if I ever discover he had a hurt you, he'll be a turtle soup."
"Oh stop," Peach cried wretchedly. "You know Bowser's really harmless," her distress at his violent attitude rendered all the more acute by the knowledge that she was no longer in a position to criticize. Half turning away in her frustration, she felt something hard knock against her leg as she did so. Cold water poured down Peach's back and she felt ready to throw up. It was the book she had found in Bowser's closet. In the confusion of the fight, she had forgotten all about it so it was still in her dress pocket. Now, on top of everything else, Peach was a thief.
The bar was faintly lit, the few lamps in evidence coated with dust so that only a grimy, oily light filtered out. Several big screen TVs were playing live coverage of the glitz pit fights but could barely be heard over the stereo system, complete with extra base, that was blasting koopa metal from the back corner. Bowser was slumped over the bar, emptying his fourth drink. After fighting Mario, he almost always wound up here, to drown all his aches and bruises, not just the physical ones but the damage to his pride and the hurt of being separated from Peach again.
"Rough day, sire?" asked the barkeep, an elderly goomba with drooping mustaches. Bowser was never sure how he, or any other goomba, was able to manipulate objects without hands but it really didn't matter as he was certainly more than capable of preparing drinks without them.
"You know it," replied Bowser, not sure if he wanted to be left alone or soothed by being fawned over. "I lost to Mario...again. And he didn't even seem impressed by my awesome secret weapon. "
"Of course, your Militariness. Mario really doesn't appreciate all the effort you go to to give him a good battle. He ought to send you a thank you card."
"At least." Bowser puffed out his chest and felt just a little bit better. "If I wasn't always keeping him on this toes, what would he do when someone else kidnapped Peach." Then, thinking of Peach and how she was also not impressed with his efforts, his spirits sank back into the gutter.
"Don't be so depressed your Surliness. I have exciting news. The great Glitz Pit star King K will be dropping by tonight and I'll send him your way. He can make even those brooding Twilight Towners laugh. I've seen it myself. Besides," the barkeep gave a wink as he waddled off to visit the next customer, "I know he's a great hit with the ladies."
"Great, just what I need: a showoff," Bowser muttered, slumping further down onto the bar and secretly hoping this King K would not showing up after all, a hope that soon proved futile. To make matters worse, at that precise moment, Bowser had just heaved a great fiery sigh, accidentally igniting his drink. Not only was this horribly embarrassing, it also made him unmistakably conspicuous—not that anyone could have missed a koopa as impressive as himself in any case. Bowser hated King K almost as soon as he set eyes on him. In the dim light, he appeared to be a dirty, sickly yellow color, like fancy mustard, a food Bowser despised, and his face was hidden behind a huge pair of shiny, wrap around shades like he was coolest of the cool, apparently not realizing that title was already claimed by the koopa king. Probably for the same reason, he walked with what was clearly meant to be a leisurely swagger. But, to Bowser, it looked like a crass waddle, as if he were wearing his shell too low.
"Hey, B-man," this singularly unpleasant individual yelled, loud enough to be heard over the music...and to attract the attention of every other creature in the bar.
Bowser grimaced sourly as he tried clumsily to beat out the flames of his drink. "Yo...dude...how's it goin'..." He kept his voice completely dead pan, hoping this latest annoyance would take the hint and g away. No such luck.
"Lord Bowsah, it's an honor ta hang wi' you." He sauntered over and eased onto the stool next to Bowser, hitching up his shell at least once in the process and then, to Bowser's utter disgust, leaned in conspiratorially. "Ol' Gooms here tells me you're in need ah some man ta man talk. So, what kin King K do fer you?"
Bowser glared at him. "Take a cheep-cheep and shove it where cheep-cheeps don't go...and I mean the spiny kind of cheep-cheep," he finished for good measure.
"Come on B-man, you don't have ta get no 'tude with me. I just wanna help you."
"The Great King Bowser needs no help."
"Course he don't. But ol' King K, he know the ladies. An' a certain princess..."
"How do you know about that?" snarled Bowser.
"Who don't? Sorry to break it ta ya but your 'ho kingdom know 'bout that. It ain't cool the way she keeps blown' you off like that. It' ain't cool, man."
"You're right." Bowser banged his fist on the bar importantly, privately thinking this koopa might not be quite as bad as he originally thought. "But what do you propose we do about it?"
"Now that depends...on what you want from her."
"I want to kiss her," Bowser blurted out and, immediately cringed at having exposed himself so fully to this, still questionable, stranger.
King K didn't respond, in fact did nothing at all, staring blankly at him without moving, though that may just have been the effect of his dark shades. Even with the blaring music and blaring TV the silence seemed to loom large. "That all man?" he asked at last, his tone sounding far too close to contemptuous for Bowser's liking.
"Are you trying to get your head pounded?" he snarled. "Almost nobody on this earth is worthy to even think about kissing Peach, so don't be taking that tone with me. 'That all?' Bah, what more could there be?"
Instead of responding, King K turned and yelled over his shoulder at the bartender. "Yo, Gooms, get me somethin' strong. Like a jammin' jelly shot. And one fo' my home-boy, Bowsah too." Then he lounged back against the bar and directed his attention to the fight on the big screen, leaving Bowser too enraged at being referred to as a "home-boy" to even speak, much less to mention the fact that he hated jammin' jelly in any form. "Those no good armored harriers." King K made a face at the TV. "Still got no skills. They a one gimmick team. No idea why Jolene even keeps 'em around."
"They win," Bowser pointed out, just to be spiteful. "They're major league and popular." Their shots arrived before he could antagonize his companion further. King K downed his instantly while Bowser eyed the jiggly pink mass in his plastic cup with extreme distaste. Then, realizing he couldn't let himself be less macho than a mustard colored koopa who couldn't even make it out of the minor leagues, he forced the whole think down, gagging the whole time. "Now that we've got that out of the way," he spluttered, trying to make sure the jelly would remain where it belonged. "If you've got anything to say, you should hurry up and say it."
" Man, I'm askin', you sure all ya want from Peach is a kiss? Straight up now."
"I can barely even imagine that," Bowser growled, getting knots in his stomach just thinking about it.
"You been married before. You got kids. Know what I'm sayin'?"
"Are you trying to suggest I might want to...to...make eggs with Peach?" Cried Bowser in horror. "That's something one does with fat koopa women, not a delicate flower like Peach. She's too refined and, besides I...I might crush her. I should crush you for even suggesting such a thing. What an insult to the Princess's dignity." But Bowser thought well enough of Gooms to not want to ruin his business by damaging property or mauling customers. So he settled for, "You're not worth getting my hands dirty on," as he stormed out the door. Infuriatingly, King K seemed totally nonplussed, continuing to lounge against the bar and calling after the retreating shell of the irate Koopa King, "Don't sweat it B-money. Think it over real good an' if ya change her mind King K'll be waitn' read to help."
Bowser fumed with anger all the way home. The never to even speak of it. Sure, he had done those things with his stupid, crass, unappealing in every way, wife, Clawdia. But the last thing he wanted was to draw any kind of connection between her and his princess. In most cases, Bowser hated even thinking of her, though she had given him eight fine children. That was her job and now, as he had told Kamek, he never needed to make eggs again.
Something tightened in Bowser's stomach, ran tingling up his spine and down into his toes. He was a koopa in the prime, the strongest, toughest koopa of them all. Did he really want to go the rest of his life without ever making eggs? When he thought about it that way, not really. But, at the same time, how could he? It would be cheating on Peach to be with anyone else that way. He kicked the seat of the koopa cruiser savagely, making the pilot wince in the cockpit. Technically, it had been cheating with Clawdia too, seeing how he had loved Peach since she was a little girl. But that had been a duty, a sacrifice for his people, an excuse he no longer had. He had thought about Peach all through the wedding, imagining, wishing it was her beside him. But later, thankfully, he had not wished that. As he watched the hatching of each of his children, he'd dreamed every time that this one had Peach's genes, but never had he dreamed how he would have gotten an egg with Peach's genes in the first place. Even when he and Peach had been married, during their bizarre adventure with the chaos heart, he had been so over joyed he'd never spared a thought for what would, or at least could, come after. But now as if King K's words had unlocked a forbidden door, he began to think and the harder he struggled to make himself stop the more his mind raced ahead.