A/N: Hello! I'm here with a new story! Just in time for Bowser & Koopalings week of 8/4-8/11!
This one will be a bit different, in that it's more lighthearted and fun than my other stories. It also makes fun of horribly executed concepts in fiction and fanfiction, such as Mary Sues, overpowered characters, and no respect for canon. I'm not criticizing anyone in particular; it's just for some good fun. :)
Nighttime befell Castle Koopa, and the castle's dark interior and slumbering bodies made the atmosphere feel like a morgue. Even the nightwatch threw up the white flag, with Dark Land being much too peaceful for any worry. Not even the sneakiest, most desperate thief dared to cross the castle's shaky drawbridge over the boiling magma pits.
But none of that stopped Larry Koopa from his almost-nightly adventures. He crept through the halls of the castle, his movements fluid and silent as if he were part of the darkness itself. The floorboards creaked under his weight, but he moved with such grace that they seemed to protest in pleasure rather than alarm.
The moonlight filtered through the windows, casting a silvery glow on the ornate tapestries and paintings that adorned the walls. With each step, Larry's keen eyes scanned for any signs of movement or life. For him, the nightly doldrums were the greatest time of the day, allowing him to uncover hidden secrets about Castle Koopa and its residents.
He reveled in his stealth and agility, relishing the thrill of sneaking through the castle undetected. This was his domain, and he knew every nook and cranny like the back of his clawed hand. As he made his way from one wing to another, he couldn't help but feel a sense of power and control over his surroundings.
As he crept into the dimly lit dining room, a burst of color caught his eye. Balloons in every hue imaginable dotted the walls, their shiny surfaces reflecting the faint light streaming through the window. Streamers hung from the ceiling, each one bearing the words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY WENDY!" in bold lettering. Despite the festive decorations, an uneasy chill settled over him. It felt almost surreal to see such a cheerful and hopeful scene surrounded by darkness and looming shadows. He could only hope that tomorrow's surprise party would bring back the joy and happiness that seemed to have fled this place tonight.
He did a double-take as he turned to the corner of the room. Six perfectly wrapped presents sat in a neat row, each adorned with a delicate bow and bearing the name of one of his brothers or his father. But none of them were from him, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he realized that tomorrow was her birthday - a fact that had completely slipped his mind. Nervously, he ran his fingers through his vibrant blue Mohawk, as if hoping to stimulate his brain into coming up with ideas for a last-minute present. His mind raced through endless possibilities, but nothing seemed worthy enough for her special day.
He shrugged. Perhaps if he were to explore the castle more thoroughly, he might stumble upon some scraps that could be fashioned into a suitable present.
With determination fueling his steps, Larry trekked through the dark and silent corridors of Castle Koopa, his curiosity driving him towards areas that had always been off-limits before. As he reached the east wing of the imposing fortress, he stumbled upon a door that bore a faded wooden sign with an elegant script reading 'Kammy's Laboratory'.
His curiosity piqued, he cautiously turned the doorknob and stepped into the mysterious room. Bubbling cauldrons lined the walls, their contents swirling and bubbling with unknown ingredients. Shelves filled with vials and jars of various sizes held secretive concoctions, their labels written in an ancient language. Strange contraptions emitted bursts of colorful sparks, creating a dazzling display of magic and science. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and potions, each one holding its own unique power and purpose.
With bated breath, he inched further into the room, his eyes widening with wonder and amazement at the sheer amount of magical items that surrounded him. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and mystery as he took in the various objects - crystal orbs gleaming with hidden powers, delicate wands carved from ancient trees, and mysterious potions bubbling in cauldrons.
But it was a book adorned with pink hearts on its cover that caught Larry's attention. He hesitated for a moment before seizing the journal and tucking it under his arm, feeling a thrill of excitement coursing through him as he imagined what secrets or stories it might hold.
Fearing discovery, he quickly retraced his steps back through the dark corridors of the castle to his own chamber. With a soft click, he closed the door behind him and sunk into the comfort of his bed. His tail twitched with anticipation as he opened the journal, expecting to uncover hidden musings, magical incantations, or juicy blackmail within its pages. But to his surprise, the journal was empty. Not a single word graced its pristine pages.
Disappointment flickered across his face before a thought struck him.
Wendy.
She was always one to write, and perhaps this empty journal could inspire her creativity.
Larry smiled to himself as he realized the perfect gift for Wendy. He would present her with the empty journal; a blank canvas for her vivid imagination to run wild. He grabbed a pen from his desk and carefully inscribed on the first page of the journal: "For Wendy, the most creative Koopaling in all of Dark Land. May your words bring magic to these blank pages." With careful hands, he wrapped the journal in wrapping paper, and topped it off with a silky ribbon, tying a bow with precision and care.
Feeling content, he returned to the elegant dining room and carefully added his gift to the collection of others.
Larry let out a sigh of relief as he surveyed the row of gifts, now including his own contribution. But that sense of calmness quickly faded when he noticed the soft light filtering in through the windows, signaling the start of a new day.
He knew he'd regret his sleepless adventure.
