World 3-1: vs. Mouser
Mouser's whole world went down in flames one fateful day. He didn't even know for sure just what went wrong. Maybe he'd been careless and not sealed off the chemicals properly. Perhaps a hole had opened up in his ceiling that let the harsh desert sun in where it shouldn't have been. Whatever had happened, the explosives that he'd been working on had gone off in the middle of the night, destroying not only his entire inventory but his home. He'd been lucky just to make it out of there alive, dragging himself out of the burning rubble through sheer determination and will.
And then he'd been blamed for the destruction caused by the explosion by his friends and neighbors. They'd banished him from the Dry Dry Outpost, forcing him to spend the rest of his days aimlessly wandering the world. There had been nothing left for Mouse yet he still carried on.
It had taken him days just to make his way across the desert but eventually, he'd managed to pass through to the other side. Then he'd had to pass through a seemingly endless forest where it seemed like it was always night, such a stark contrast from the world he knew that it seemed almost like a dream. Or perhaps a nightmare. He wasn't sure how long he'd been trapped in those dark, cold woods but eventually, he'd managed to find the way out.
That was when he'd finally found what he thought would be his new home. An old house sitting atop a hill, possibly the largest building that he'd ever seen. He'd stumbled up the long pathway to the green-roofed mansion and knocked on the door, intending to ask the owner if he could stay for a night before setting out again in the morning. No one had answered.
Looking around, Mouser had found a back door that had been left unlocked and entered the house to find that it had been left abandoned. He thought at the time that it was a stroke of luck and decided to stay there since no one else was using the house. He'd ended up holing up there for several months before the owner had finally returned. That was a day that Mouser would never be able to forget, no matter how much he tried.
Luigi stirred awake, feeling like he'd just had the crap kicked out of him. As his hazy memories slowly returned, he realized that was exactly what had happened. He should have known better than to have walked into such an obvious trap. They all knew that Wart and his followers were going to turn on them but they'd made the mistake of underestimating him. Or perhaps, overestimating themselves.
He sat up with a groan, trying to figure out where he was. It looked like some kind of old brick warehouse, full of various crates and boxes. He didn't know where this place was but he had to find a way out.
"Ah, I see you're finally awake."
Luigi looked up to see a large rat-like creature with gray fur and a pair of dark shades looking down on him from a metal catwalk overhead. One of Wart's goons, Mouser.
"Where are we?" Luigi asked. "Why did you-a bring me here?"
"Welcome to my humble abode," Mouser said, a hint of bitter sarcasm in his voice. "This is where I do my work."
He tossed something down toward Luigi but in the dark, Luigi couldn't tell what it was until it was practically right in front of him. A big purple ball with a lit fuze poking out of it. Luig panicked and scrambled to his feet, barely managing to get far enough from the cartoonish-looking bomb before it exploded. He was knocked back by the shockwave of the explosion but managed to get back to his feet.
"I'm an expert in explosives." Mouser casually walked closer, tossing another bomb in the air. "I used to make my living making bombs. Demolition, mining, there are all kinds of practical uses for them. Not that most people seem to care. They just hear that you make bombs and are all like 'How could you? What's wrong with you? Do you just like destroying stuff?' like you're some kind of dangerous maniac out on the loose."
He tossed the bomb down but Luigi was prepared for it this time and was able to get further away.
"I don't know why I'm telling you this, though. It's got nothing to do with my beef with you."
"What are you-a talking about?" Luigi asked, scanning the room for any sort of exit. He was hoping that by keeping him occupied with conversation, he might keep Mouser from doing anything even more drastic than he already was. "I-a don't even know you!"
"Really, you don't even remember me?" Mouser asked, outraged, before quickly calming down again. "No, I don't suppose that you would. I look different here, after all. I'm not as little as I was when you killed me."
That just made Luigi even more confused. He'd killed him? When had Luigi ever killed anyone?
Mouser tossed another bomb down and Luigi ducked behind a stack of crates to get away from it. He was glad that the strange rat-man wasn't using stronger explosives, which he likely had access to if he really made them himself like he said, but this was getting him nowhere. Luigi was going to have to find a way to fight back. Unfortunately, as he reached into the pockets of his overalls to pull out Sara, he found that she wasn't there.
"If you're looking for your whip, then you're out of luck," Mouser said, as if reading Luigi's mind. "You really didn't think that I would leave you armed, did you? No, you're just as defenseless as I was."
Two more bombs, to either side of Luigi. He jumped up a stack of crates only for the pile to give out under his feet when the bombs exploded. He came crashing down into a pile of splintered wood. It seemed that the boxes had been empty but that didn't seem particularly important. He still needed to find a way out of there.
"You know what, I think that's enough talking. Let's see how long you can last."
Luigi ran as another purple bomb fell behind him. This was getting him nowhere. He could duck and weave as much as he wanted, always staying down out of the way but unless he found a way to fight back he was just going to be stuck there until either he was too worn out to keep going or his luck ran out.
After a few minutes, Mouser tossed one of his bombs directly in Luigi's path and he slid to a stop. There was no way that he would be able to get out of the way before it went off in just a few seconds but at last, he had an idea. Luigi picked up the round explosive and tossed it back up into the air. It went off before it could reach Mouser but did manage to take out a section of the catwalk he was using.
"Oh, so you can fight back?" Mouser laughed. "Then I guess I'm going to have to get more serious."
"Why are you-a doing this?" Luigi asked as he climbed another stack of empty crates.
"If you can't even be bothered to remember, then I have no reason to tell you!" Mouser exclaimed before tossing another bomb.
Luigi jumped over to the next crate before the one he had been on could be destroyed. Then he managed to catch the next one and tossed it back up, only for Mouser to throw another straight at it. The two bombs collided in midair and set each other off, knocking Luigi back and he fell hard onto the concrete floor. He didn't have a moment to rest, though, rolling onto his feet and running again before the next bomb could get him.
He could already feel himself growing tired and wasn't sure how long he could hold up at this rate. Deciding to try a different tactic, Luigi climbed on top of another pile of crates and then jumped to the next pile before Mouser could destroy it, then another and another. Getting just a bit higher with each jump, Luigi managed to reach one of the series of catwalks that scrawled overhead so that he was now on level with Mouser.
Mouser was clearly taken aback by Luigi managing to reach him and Luigi spotted his whip hanging around the rat's side. He didn't hesitate for long, though, throwing a bomb that destroyed the walkway between them. Luigi jumped over the gap and ran over to him.
"Look, I don't-a know why you-a seem to hate me so-a much but this has to stop!" Luigi demanded. "Tell- me how to-a get out of here so that I can-a get to my friends!"
"No!" Mouser shouted back before throwing yet another bomb.
Luigi jumped and kicked the ball back at Mouser, causing it to explode right in his face. Mouser was sent flying back while Sara was knocked away in the other direction before he fell through one of the stacks of empty crates. Luigi hopped back down and retrieved his whip before heading off in the direction that Mouser had landed. It seemed that their game of cat and mouse, pun unintended, had just been flipped around.
Luigi followed the sound of footsteps, Vampire Killer in hand. He turned a corner expecting to find his opponent but was met only by yet another purple bomb. Without a moment's hesitation, he knocked it away with a strike of his whip and braced himself as another pile of crates exploded in a shower of shattered wood. The longer this fight went on, the fewer places to hide remained.
A flash of movement caught Luigi's eye and he looked up just in time to see a bomb falling towards him. He jumped back but was caught in the shockwave and sent flying. As Luigi pulled himself back to his feet, Mouser popped out holding one final bomb, larger and presumably much stronger than the others.
"It looks like this is the end for you," Mouser said. "This has been a long time coming."
"What are-a you talking about?" Luigi pleaded desperately. "I still don't-a know who you are or-a why you seem to hate me so much!"
Mouser twitched. "Then I guess you'll take that uncertainly with you to your grave. Just know that you're the reason I'm here. My soul wasn't able to pass on properly in that place and eventually made its way here. I've been stuck here for a thousand years because of you!"
"A thousand years?" Luigi repeated. That didn't make sense. Luigi certainly hadn't been around long enough to have caused anyone's death that long ago. Unless… "You're that squeeker! The one that got sucked into the Grimoire with me!"
The horrid memory of that mouse-like creature being torn apart and eaten by a horde of zombies in the forest outside what would become Castlevania haunted him. It still made no sense, that was only a simulation. They hadn't actually gone back in time, had they? But Luigi wasn't exactly an expert on magic, either.
"Oh, now you remember," Mouser scoffed. "Not that it makes any difference at this point. Prepare to meet your end."
Mouser held his arm back to throw the bomb and Luigi acted on instinct. The Vampire Killer lashed out, snaring Mouser's leg before Luigi pulled. The large rat was knocked back, the bomb in his hand flying up before crashing back down.
When Mouser had been banished from his homeland, he thought that it would be the end for him. He'd been left to wander the scorching desert, and then that nightmarish forest of darkness, alone. But then he'd found his new home, that lonely mansion atop the hill. He'd lived there for months, surviving off of the plentiful food stores that had been left there and settling into the new environment.
He was just about ready to begin his work again, too. What good was a bomb maker that didn't make bombs, after all? He'd just need to head out and find the nearest town so that he could buy the supplies he'd need to begin again. He'd likely need to pawn off some of the old junk in the mansion but it wasn't like the owner was around to object.
After making his plans to head out the next day, Mouser decided to take a nap in his favorite spot. A comfortable, shady corner behind a dusty old chair in one of the many rooms of the mansion. The old building would have made for good storage, especially compared to his old place. He'd dreamt of using his bombs to get revenge against the other squeeks who had kicked him out so ruthlessly as he towered over them.
Then he'd been abruptly woken up by a loud noise and instinctively bolted up. A man in green and blue clothes, who Mouser had never seen before, was vacuuming the room. The sudden movement as Mouser frantically ran around the room caused the stranger to stumble back and knock over a bookcase. That was when everything went wrong.
One old, leatherbound book that Mouser couldn't remember having seen on the shelf before that day opened up and before Mouser knew it, he'd been sucked into its pages. He didn't know how it happened, or why. All he knew was that suddenly he found himself trapped in another dark forest, much like the one he'd wandered through before. But while those woods were inhabited only by the occasional mischievous boo, this place was far more sinister and treacherous.
Mouser's heart was pumping so fast that it felt like it would explode and his fear only grew worse as he found himself getting caught in a thick puddle of mud. He struggled to pull himself free but before he even had a creature shambled over to him, smelling of death and decay.
He'd never had the chance to escape. More of the horrid monsters appeared from behind the trees and marched towards him. He'd almost managed to get himself out of the mud before he found himself tackled back into the ground. He could feel their teeth sinking into his flesh as he struggled in vain to escape.
And then there was nothing.
And then he found himself standing in a grassy clearing. The trauma of his death was still fresh in his mind but somehow it felt dulled, distant. Almost like a dream. It wasn't long after that when he met Wart for the first time and agreed to join his gang. He had a new life now, a better one. Yet the scars of his old one still remained and he swore that if he ever found that man in green again, he'd get his revenge.
The explosion was much larger than the others had been, knocking Luigi hard into the wall of the warehouse. The sheer force nearly knocked him out again but he managed to hang in there. The whole room seemed to spin, though, and it took a moment to be able to get back up to his feet and run to where Mouser had been.
There was no sign of him anywhere, though Luigi's senses still seemed scrambled from the explosion. He could have sworn that he saw something, it almost looked like some kind of large pale hand, sink into a mass of stary inky blackness. But then he blinked and it was gone, so he figured that it was just his imagination running wild.
With Mouser apparently defeated, Luigi took a moment to rest before searching for the exit. He still needed to figure out where he was and how to get to the others.
After what had happened, Ridley would have expected to wake up chained to a wall in an old dungeon cell. Possibly with a muzzle on, as much as he loathed the idea. Instead, he had found himself lying on a bed with the self-styled (he presumed) 'King of Dreams' watching over him. Now they were currently seated at opposite ends of an ornate dining room table topped with a veritable feast of various exotic dishes. Despite his hunger, though, Ridley refused to take any of the food offered. He wasn't about to let himself get poisoned again.
"What are you playing at?" Ridley asked after sitting around silently while Wart dug into his meal. He had been waiting for the so-called king to be the one to speak first but his impatience had finally gotten the better of him.
"I could be coy and say that I'm not playing at anything," Wart replied after he finished chewing the meat of some kind of large bird leg, tossing the bone onto his plate, "but I think I'm going to go ahead and spare us both the games and banter. You intrigue me, Ridley. I like to surround myself with unique individuals with interesting stories and no one is quite as unique or interesting as you. I want you to join the 8-bits as one of my lieutenants."
"Pass," Ridley said without a hint of hesitation, gathering from context that 'the 8-bits' must have been the name of Wart's little gang.
"Oh, that wasn't an invitation," Wart laughed. "I'm not giving you a choice on this. You will join me. You see, when people sleep, their consciousnesses come here as part of their dreams. Normally, there is little to no overlap between people's dreams but my men have managed to track down every last being from your land, the Mushroom Kingdom, I believe you called it, and pulled them here to Subcon. They're all trapped here, down in my dungeons. Plus, we've got your friends that you were with as well. So, you're going to join the 8-bits, become my vassal and assist in my invasion of the waking world. If you cooperate well enough, I may even give you your own planet to rule one day. Do I make myself clear?"
Ridley steepled his hands in front of his face, shoulders planted firmly on the table in front of him. He glowered at Wart over his fingers.
"Speaking as a former professional villain, your monologues need work," he said, deciding to play along for now. "But then again, who am I to judge? I usually just skip over that part entirely. So, now that you've got your leash on me, what do you intend to do?"
"For now, we wait." Wart sat back in his chair. "Without the Star Rod, we have no way of making it back to the waking world and we don't currently have any leads on where it could have been moved. So, until my men can scrounge something up, I'm going to focus on winning you over to our way of thinking. I know you're not going to be loyal to me if I just threaten your friends and call it a day, so I'm going to show you why you want to be my ally."
"Good luck with that," Ridley rolled his eyes before scanning the meal laid out before him more closely. He was hoping to find a plate of frog legs or something that he could use to make a point with. He wasn't surprised not to find any, though. It seemed Wart was no cannibal, unlike what Ridley would have been like if others of his kind existed. He also noted a conspicuous absence of any vegetables on the table despite the sheer variety of dishes provided and filed that information away for later. Instead, he grabbed a roast pig and swallowed it whole. "But I suppose I can humor you for now."