Origins Captain Falcon

Port Town

The Creed Bar and Grill

Captain Falcon was the name most people knew him by. A mythic icon in the high octane anti-gravity F-Zero Circuit The Captain was a superhero to billions of children and adults around the galaxy. Away from the cameras, however, his cold, near-perfect propensity for hunting down nefarious criminals made him a feared name in the seedy underbelly of crime.

But today, in a bar in his hometown of Port Town, he was Douglas Jay, professional loser

Sans iconic helmet, and wearing a hoodie on the cold winter day, Douglas looked like any other man one would find at a bar alone, forlorn, and in deep thought.

He had lost plenty of races before but having lost the Grand Prix overall irked him. Douglas considered himself a good sport most of the time, so he wasn't sure where these emotions were coming from.

Am I feeling like I'm being usurped? pondered Douglas

The winner of the most recent Grand Prix was Jack Levin, a young, vain pop star who was becoming the idol to millions just as Falcon once had.

Maybe THAT was it, concluded Falcon as he drank from the bubbling blue ale he had ordered. Maybe he was simply pissed that unlike himself, who always felt he'd used the championship to better people's lives, be someone to look up to, Jack would use it to spread materialism and vanity, something already plaguing society deeply. One needed to look more further than the owner's boxes at F-Zero races, and see the obscenely rich, opulent businesspeople within to see that

"Captain Falcon." came a posh voice

Falcon's neck paranoidly swiveled in the direction of the voice. Next to him at the bar sat a humanoid in a trenchcoat and hat.

"How do you…?"

"I know many things, Douglas. Place of birth, Port Town, age 34. Blood Type O…"

"So you won some trivia game in a gambling den somewhere" snapped Falcon, "What do you want with me?"

"There is a tournament in which I want you to participate,"

Falcon laughed, "If you want somebody, go look for Jack Levin. He's the hot commodity right now."

"If I wanted a musical act, I'd choose Jack. If I wanted someone who would fight villainy amidst a race car pile up, I'd choose you"

And there it is, thought Falcon.

The mysterious man was referring to an incident several years ago, in which the bounty hunter Pico had caused a multi-car pileup intentionally at the request of the evil overlord Black Shadow, to end Captain Falcon. The accident had injured many, one to the point where his body had to be reconstructed entirely with robot parts. Amidst the chaos, Falcon and Pico had engaged in hand-to-hand combat, in which Falcon had unleashed a Falcon Punch, almost gravely injuring Pico. The Falcon Punch was a "secret weapon" of sorts for Falcon, a powerful, fire-laden punch that he'd always been able to do for reasons he'd never had the answers to.

"The incident isn't something I'm necessarily proud of."

"But you should be. You're a phenomenal human being, with power completely unlike anyone else. You want so badly to be a superhero, someone who can do right without constantly having to hold back. I provide you with that opportunity. It's a fighting tournament in another dimension, and the rules of said dimension disallow any kind of long-term pain for anyone. So, throw those Falcon Punches. Experiment. Be the superhero you always have wanted to be" said the figure.

To say this piqued Captain Falcon's interest was an understatement

"So…. what do I call you?" the captain asked

"I am but a messenger. You may call my master Master Hand"

Falcon frowned, "A master who calls himself Master? Sounds like a fun guy."

Now it was the figure's turn to laugh, "You have a biting tongue. I like it. Now, pay your money owed and step outside with me"

Falcon flicked a single coin onto the bar counter, leaving with the figure. He followed the mysterious person into an alley. As they rounded the corner, a swirling purple portal appeared before them

"You should know that this dimension we are going to exists outside of what you would consider time and space. So, when your time comes to depart the world, I can drop you off the second after we've departed. Also, before you ask, I've taken the liberty of procuring several of your jumpsuits for the fights."

"Excellent," said Falcon as they stepped through the portal.

They stood in the foyer of an opulent, well-furnished mansion, mahogany, fluffy looking chairs, and soft lighting he'd only seen aboard the most extravagant of party vessels.

"Welcome to the Smash Mansion, the resident home of the Super Smash Brothers, of which you are a charter member."

"The Super Smash Brothers eh? I like the name." Falcon said as he scanned the enormous room before him.

"When you get settled, I would like to show you where the training room is so that you can show me your moves, as other than the punch, I'm unaware of any other tricks you may have"

"' Show me your moves. That's got a nice ring to it." said Falcon as he and the mysterious figure headed up the stairs.

"Indeed it does. Now, if you would please wait for the arrival of your fellow compatriots, we need to have a meeting. "