He's always followed the rules. It's just—well, he's not exactly breaking it here, right? Right? Oh, he hopes he isn't turning into Roy… or worse… Iggy
How Ludwig Breaks the Rule:
Ludwig pulls his pea coat closer to his body as it takes the burden of the wind and snow whipping in every direction. The fluffy white puffs whizz and weave between the towering skyscrapers and clusters of buildings, guided by the wind. He spots the cafe's open sign through the snowfall, blinking at him as it hangs in the window.
Ludwig lets out a breath of relief, watching the visible air puff outward then disappear as snowflakes fall. Cautiously, he picks up the pace, careful to not slip on the sheen layer of ice forming on the sidewalks or bump into a stranger bracing the frigid winds too.
When he reaches the door to the cafe, he immediately heads inside. Instantly, he's greeted by the usual barista slaving over hot drinks behind the counter to offer their customers some relief from the winter storm and help defrost their fingers.
The warmth of the heated building is just as inviting as the warm lighting and cozy atmosphere. Ludwig loves the simplicity and earthy colors of the décor even if his tastes are more ostentatious than others. He can still appreciate the homey aesthetics the cafe brings since it reminds him of his childhood home.
As he warms up, his slate eyes scan the cafe for someone in particular. His gaze expands slightly in recognition when he spots the patron that sticks out with her bright red scarf and matching hat combo. There, at the table closest to the window sipping her coffee, is the city's mayor; Pauline.
Ludwig experiences a brief strike of inspiration and awe at spotting his newest muse waiting for him to join her for coffee and conversation. He cannot help the starstruck expression painted on his face; she's an amazing woman with a long list of accomplishments.
Pauline is an experienced politician, revered by her peers and citizens, and an even more talented songstress with a sultry voice that sends pleasant tingles down Ludwig's spine whenever it graces his sensitive eardrums privy to dissecting any music to grace them. Her albums are a lovely combination of jazz, swing, and a tinsy flare of pop which Ludwig promptly ignores (because he's in denial.)
His overwhelming feelings of veneration push him forward and Ludwig approaches her instead of gawking like a starstruck fanboy. Smoothly, he slips off his now dripping wet coat and coolly glides into the seat across from her.
Beautiful blue eyes flicker to his face and she smiles in greeting then absorbs her attention back to the handful of papers, ruby lips pursued as she contemplates. She's never not working when Ludwig sees her. Her diligence is praise worthy and admirable, and it's another trait Ludwig shares with her.
Patient and understanding, Ludwig allows her a moment of reprieve, excusing himself to order a simple cup of coffee (one cream and no sugar) before returning to find her paperwork properly placed in a Manila folder. Her purple tinted eyes are now directed out the window as she sips her own coffee.
He settles back into his seat, keenly avoiding the water his coat is dripping onto the floor. He lets the steaming hot coffee in his palms bring heat back to his claws before he tests the temperature of his drink with a cautious sip.
His taste buds soak in the bitterness of freshly ground coffee and the lingering hint of sweetness from the milky cream. Satisfied, he happily gulps down a larger mouthful, quietly watching Pauline admire her city with a strong fondness in her eyes only she can comprehend since it's been her home her entire life.
Her gaze flutters about as much as the falling snow. She follows the large snowflakes as they coat her city in a fluffy white blanket, completely enthralled. Her lip quirks slightly when she spots a rambunctious child pelt snowballs at their squealing siblings before a frazzled parent rushes after them.
Whatever spell the snowy wonderland has her trapped in disperses and she turns to Ludwig with a pleasant smile. They exchange their usual pleasantries, complaining—without exactly complaining—about their hectic schedules for the week while filling each other in on their current music projects and escapades.
Ludwig speaks proudly about his newest composition which somehow tumbles into her ranking her favorite songs of his. He fights down the rushing heat that her compliments bring to his cheeks, but it's undeniably motivating. His claws itch, twitching to get the inspirations in his head down on paper before they're lost to the confines of his brilliant mind.
"My favorite piece of yours is 'Beyond the Apple Tree'," Paulina says, interrupting his yearning. She brushes a brunette curl from her face. He's stunned to hear her number one choice, since many don't appreciate its hidden message purposely obscured by the somber notes and lengthy pauses. He observes her thoughtfully.
"Ah." Ludwig hums. "Most think the piece is too sorrowful for their tastes. My siblings especially do not like the languid pacing leading up to the crescendo and believe it is more reserved for funerals than symphonies."
"I think that's what makes it so beautiful," Pauline responds in kind. She rests her cheek in the palm of her hand. "It is depressing and slow, but the ending notes shift. They speak of hope for the future and a promise. Music can convey stories and emotions in such a short amount of time. It really is like magic." She smirks at him. "Not as if I know what magic is like."
Ludwig blinks, astounded by her astute observations. "You are truly amazing, Mayor Pauline. Your abundant knowledge of music astounds me."
Pauline giggles, dismissively waving a hand. "I have more years of experience, but we're kindred spirits." She lifts her coffee cup like she's raising a toast to the solidarity between them then takes a long sip before setting it back onto the table. "I hope you further explore a career in music and pursue your dreams, Ludwig. I'd hate to see your potential wasted."
He forces a smile, unable to comment. If the circumstances weren't so well-calculated, he'd happily oblige to her wishes to stick to his honed talents, but being the possible second heir to the Darklands, training to become Junior's future advisor and take Kamek's place beside the king; his future is seemingly mapped out for him already.
Incapable of conjuring up a response, Ludwig chooses to let his gaze wander towards the window, slightly crestfallen. Not for very long. The sight outside stirs a happy flutter in his chest. Snow is a rarity in the heart of the Darklands, only the tallest mountains are capped with snow and the conifer forests resting at the border which allows them to experience the harsh chill of winter.
Sometimes, he misses experiencing the four seasons, but the predictability of the capital's weather sets him at ease and makes planning for future events easier. Distracted by the snow and procrastinating the inevitable, Ludwig finally finds a suitable comment amongst the sorrowful excuses in his mind.
"I don't think I'll ever stop creating music," he admits, skating past the unrealistic expectation of pursuing a music career. "There's too many compositions in my head that deserve to be heard."
Recently, his music tastes have drifted, straying from the usual classic themes of his music. His melancholic symphonies with sullen notes and depressive rests that entomb his audience in their own personal sepulchre have transformed into more boisterous, erratic chords, thriving on an assortment of brass instruments complimenting and adding layers to the piano's more sorrowful sounds.
Lemmy immediately noticed the fluctuation of genres, but supported Ludwig's exploration of studying new sounds with an eager ear. Even Roy had tapped his foot to the rhythms pooling out into the hallways, feeling inclined to disrupt Ludwig's creative process—nearly giving him a heart attack—to reward him with a thumbs up of approval.
His newest song is a bit different than any song he's ever written. He likes seamless transitions between his pieces, maintaining a theme with certain notes until, when heard by an untrained ear, it still sounds as if the various songs belong as one cohesive piece, but this song doesn't fit into his repertoire. His newest creation has lyrics.
The black sheep of his creations sits on the sidelines waiting for someone worthy enough to sing its lyrics and breathe life into it. He knows who is capable of such a thing. After all, she had been in his mind the entirety of the writing process.
The biggest issue he faces is whether or not she'll agree to his proposition. They are, in technical terms, enemies. Bowser had recently thrown her city into disarray while planning for a wedding and as an old flame and friend of Mario, Bowser's greatest rival, she's more inclined to choose the hero's side and avoid any enemies of the Mario Brothers.
Yet, here she is, enjoying a nice cup of coffee with one of her fans, who just happens to be one of Bowser's many adopted children. When he approached her during a meet-and-greet, a vinyl copy of her newest album in his shaking claws, asking for an autograph; she had recognized him. Instead of maliciousness or hostility, she openly stated she was a fan of his. Then, somehow, this meet-up became a monthly habit.
Sighing softly, Ludwig runs a hand through his hair. He won't receive an answer if he never bothers to ask.
"Well," Ludwig's gaze grows distant. He nervously taps his claws against the table. "I have been composing a new song."
The intrigue in her tone is palpable. "Oh?"
Realizing how rude and cold he's being, Ludwig forces himself to meet her confused eyes despite his jumping nerves. "It is not my usual preference." Ludwig clears his throat. He fights down the heat seering his cheeks. "I've recently delved into different genres to test my musical prowess, but this newest song has caused a dilemma. You see, this song has lyrics and I'm no singer."
Her smoky and addictive voice blending seamlessly with his instruments will probably send him into a music-induced coma he'll gladly never wake up from. Just the thought of it makes his heart start to race.
Pauline's eyes twinkle with mirth and a tinge of mischief. She leans forward in her chair. "I don't suppose you're going to ask a particular songstress if she would like a sneak peek of it?" Pauline teases, lips curved into a little smirk. "Maybe she'll even volunteer her time to sing the lyrics if she's impressed."
Ludwig beams.
Larry Koopa got a alternate outfit in Mario Kart Tour and I'm currently still screaming for my favorite child.