Thunda-Moo
Smash Apprentice
This is gonna be my first post... I think... but it's going to be one doozy of a story! After quickly realizing that I didn't have much worth posting on the forums, as my questions could be answered by searching and I don't seem to be able to answer any questions before someone else answers them better, I just didn't do anything here for the longest time. But then I found the Creative Minds Board, so I figured I'd add my own story, as I need writing practice and stuff. But you don't really care do you? At all? Don't you love me??? Sniffle...
Onto the story then. Keep in mind that while this is vuagely a Brawl Fanfic, that is only in the sence that a bunch of different nintendo characters are all ending up in the same place. The abilities these characters have may vary from thier skills in Brawl. For instance, Mario and Luigi have their hammers and Bros. Attacks from Superstar Saga, but Mario also has his cape and Luigi will eventually end up SHOURYUUKEN!ing someone, just you wait. Also, I origonally typed this in Word, so I have no idea how the paragraphing and fonts are going to turn out, but I'm praying.
Oh, and do a barrel roll.
Let it begin!
Mushroom Kingdom; Midmorning
“Well, that-a was a wonderful workout. There was a lot more Goombas today then usual, eh, Luigi?”
“Sure was. D’you think Bowser’s-a planin’ something again, bro?” Asked Luigi, his large nose bouncing as he waddled down the path.
“It would-a take a very crazy mushroom to know what that ol’ lug was-a thinkin’, Luigi,” replied Mario.
“Very true, bro. Very tru—“ A well-aimed hammer to the face managed to cut Luigi’s sentence fragment beyond grammatically incorrect and out the other side.
“Ow,” said Luigi, perfectly expressing his feelings.
“Looks like our workout isn’t over yet, bro!” exclaimed Mario, “Nice of Bowser to save us money on exercise equipment by supplying us with free hammer bros.!”
Luigi managed to pull a hammer almost as large as he was out of his tiny trouser pocket, and smiled.
“You think these chumps are hammer bros.?” he said, briefly wondering the correct way to punctuate the end of a sentence where the last word is an abbreviation with a period before coming to the conclusion that, like many things, no one would care but him. Mario pulled an equally large hammer from his equally small trouser pocket and wiggled his eyebrows in anticipation.
“Good point, Luigi. Lets-a show them how much they need to improve.” But their attempt was interrupted.
Dream Land; Lunchtime
“Poyo,” sighed Kirby. Maybe one day, Tac would realize that stealing Kirby’s copy ability only made him easier to eat, but Kirby hoped he wouldn’t. Free lunches are harder to come by when nothing bad is happening. It’s been so calm, recently. Fortunately, a faint “whoosh” on the wind told Kirby that it wouldn’t stay that way. Good. He was still hungry.
“Kirby!” Bellowed Meta Knight as he rushed down to meet his rival, “Today I shall defeat you once and for all!” Kirby turned the eyepiece of his “Copy” copy ability to meet his lunch.
“Poyo?” He asked Lunch.
“Not likely, Kirby!” Replied Meta Knight, landing in front of his nemesis. Suddenly, he simply didn’t have wings anymore, just a stylin’ cape. Kirby always wondered how lunch managed to do that. “I have mastered a new technique, so powerful that nothing can beat it except itself!”
“Poyo,” Kirby eloquently pointed out.
“Ummm… huh,” said Meta Knight, stroking his lack of chin, “That’s a valid point, Kirby.”
Kirby sighed, though it sounded more like a drawn-out “poyo.” Lunch was always pretty stupid.
“Poyo,” said Kirby.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” answered Meta Knight. “Perhaps if I managed to…” Kirby left Meta Knight pondering, deciding he shouldn’t eat anything if it would make so much noise in his stomach. He was in the mood for an umbrella, anyway. He got something rather different.
Planet G9-47; 0029 Federation Hours
“Every Time!” Screamed Samus Aran to herself, activating her speed boost and crashing through a wall, “Every freaking time! You’d think planets would be more stable then this! Oh, so help me god, if you don’t open…” Her voice trailed off as the door, riddled with plasma beam blasts, screeched ajar. “Thank you! But seriously: you just shoot some stupid, mutated whatever in the face enough and the whole planet decides to blast open in four minutes! And then there’s…”
“The Hunter!” warbled the ghastly voice of a Pirate Commando. “Kill the Hunter! She uses colons in her sentences! Even when she’s enraged! How ******** is that! Kill the Hunter and her thrice-cursed grammar!”
“And then there’s the stupid Space Pirates! Go home, you freaks! The whole planet’s going to explode; you should be getting to your ships, not your grenade launchers!”
The pirate’s faces twisted with rage and horror.
“Was... WAS THAT A SEMI-COLON??? OMG WTF GTFO KILLTEHHUNTERKILLTEHHUNTERKILLTEHHUNTERRRRRR!!!”
“This is stupid,” Samus growled. “They’re so one-minded! Like… trolls. Or flames, or something. It’s like they’re scared of intelligence!” Turning around, she fused five missiles with the energy of a charge beam and let the whole load go right at the nearest commando. The unfortunate target managed to get his shield up just in time to get killed by being blasted off a cliff rather then just plain blasted.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t be complaining, though,” muttered Samus. “It’s nice to have foes that are too stupid to go thorough doors.” She sent a power beam blast to disrupt the energy field, and it worked. Just as if on cue, the door didn’t.
“No, no, no! Not now!” She fired additional shots at the blast door. It remained closed, looking smug about itself.
“TEHHUNTER!” Shrieked the demented space pirates, as they feebly nicked away at Samus’s massive energy tank storage. They were rewarded by a glacier in the face. The timer on Samus’s HUD ticked down, and she desperately tried to open the door in front of her.
Because making little “Thbbbttt” noises was out of the question, the door decided to put its blue energy field back up instead. Samus stared at it. It stubbornly persisted at keeping a lack of openness.
If doors could hear, this one would have been quite frightened at the sound of a power bomb going off in the general vicinity. Well, no, it probably wouldn’t have, because it was a door. But maybe even a door would have at least been surprised if it managed to realize it was not a door but in fact a pile of rubble.
“If you can’t open a door, make a passageway,” Samus muttered to herself as she sped back to her ship. Naturally, however, the universe had other plans.
Upper Corneria Atmosphere; 8304 (ROB 64 time)
“DO A BARREL ROLL!” Peppy Hare frothed as a satellite floated by. Falco clutched the bridge of his nose, or at least rested his wing on it.
“Pops, I’m not sure that would really help here,” he said.
“It deflects enemy fire!” replied Peppy, managing to talk by jiggling rather then actually moving his lips or tongue.
“Peppy, there isn’t anything here but us!” Retorted Falco angrily. Fox McCloud laughed. “Just humor him, Falco. Maybe it’ll help someday,” he said. Falco sighed, and then double-tapped his Arwing’s Z button to put his ship into a vomit-inducing super-spin. In the thin atmosphere high above Corneria, Falco was very surprised to hear the metallic pings of ricocheted laser fire.
“What the…?” Falco started, but he was cut off when additional volleys of fire turned his attention to other things.
Fox laughed as he preformed a U-turn towards the unseen foe. “That’s why I keep you on the team, Peppy!”
“Yeah, maybe you should listen to your elders, Falco!” screeched Slippy Toad, pulling up beside the team in his customized Arwing.
“Shut up, Slippy!” Growled Falco as he weaved through laser fire. Suddenly, ROB 64 decided he needed to chime in. “Enemy detected,” he warbled.
“Gee, I didn’t notice,” barked Falco through the com. “Would everyone just shut up so I can—“
“Spacial anomaly also detected,” continued ROB. “Interdimensional rift opening in point zero-zero-seven AU. Request immediate evacuation of all personnel.”
“—Focus on my... What?” finished Falco.
“Do a barrel roll,” whispered Peppy, but his voice was lost in the omnipresent roar of Corneria’s atmosphere escaping into a newly ripped hole in existence’s favorite pair of socks.
Hoenn Region; Cascoon Hour Six
“All right, Wooper,” came the cry of a Pokèmon master-in-training, “use Ice Punch!” His obedient partner jumped forward towards the enemy Scyther. The Scyther’s Trainer managed to look very surprised despite his feature-concealing cloak. The trainer spoke oddly, as if he was talking in a fake voice, and was bad at it. But because his features were useable behind the cloak, his vaguely masculine voice was the only hint to his gender. He spoke with genuine confusion and surprise:
“Wait, what? Ice Punch? Whooper doesn’t have any arms, let alone fists!” The Whooper’s master grinned.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t know that!” As the whooper got close, Scyther staggered back, as if it were hit by something invisible. The Scyther looked surprised, and then simply annoyed. The cloaked trainer sighed.
“All right Scyther, just Slash it.” Scyther irritably smacked away the whooper, which was promptly knocked out. Around them, many other battles continued.
“Wh-what???” Stammered the whooper’s trainer. “But my hit was super-effective!”
“Perhaps,” started the cloaked trainer dramatically, “but you forgot one simple thing!”
“What’s that?” He asked. The cloaked trainer leaned down. “Whooper sucks!!!” The opposing trainer’s protests were drowned out in the sounds of battle, like “Okay, Zubat! Mean Look!” or “Go, Prinplup! Metal Claw!” and even the occasional “Magikarp, SPLASH!!!” The cloaked trainer sat down on the floor and sighed. “I was hoping for a real tournament, not this useless circus.” Faintly, almost unnoticeable among the normal sounds of really stupid orders, the worried conversation of two trainers who had put their battle on pause could be heard.
“That doesn’t look like a Trick Room to me,” said the first, staring at the dark, swirling vortex in front of him. “Are you sure your Bronzong knows what it’s doing?”
“This has never happened before,” replied the second, her Pokèmon looking at her apologetically. “and we use this strategy all the time!”
“I guess we could find out,” the first said. “Rotom, use Ominous Wind!”
“Uhh, Bronzong, Gyro Ball!” said the second, but her Bronzong was blown away before it could react.
“Yep,” concluded the first. “Defiantly not a Trick Room. So what is it?” As if in response, the vortex began to move. Slowly at first, but the vortex gained steady speed, and then size, as it floated towards the cloaked trainer. He simply stared at it as the other members of the tournament fled for their lives, and shrugged. “I suppose I have nothing better to do,” came the murmured response as it engulfed him.
Unknown Place; Unknown Time, if any.
“You’re doing this brother, aren’t you? Stealing them away?” The voice was deep and it filled the void with echoes, making its speaker sound vastly powerful. The reply was drier and scratchy. If the first speaker was completely insane, he would sound just like his “brother.”
“I grow bored with your creations. Even the best are horribly predictable. They are not true life, so there is no pleasure in killing them!”
“And so you wish to fight the originals?” The first speaker was not unkindly in his response, though the insults to his creations were duly noted.
“Perhaps,” laughed the second speaker, “though I would like to see how our pets will get along with each other before we adopt them.” Though unseen, the first speaker might have smiled.
“Shall I make their world better, then, to pass the time?” It asked. A long, sarcastic laugh preceded the second speaker’s response.
“Naturally, any help from my dear, dear brother would be greatly appreciated.” The second speaker found his statement to be incredibly funny, and laughed even harder. He continued to echo his menacing chuckle for a long time afterwards. The first speaker simply got to work. All around various universes, prominent figures and fighters disappeared, and reappeared somewhere very, very different. Worlds apart, in fact.
Onto the story then. Keep in mind that while this is vuagely a Brawl Fanfic, that is only in the sence that a bunch of different nintendo characters are all ending up in the same place. The abilities these characters have may vary from thier skills in Brawl. For instance, Mario and Luigi have their hammers and Bros. Attacks from Superstar Saga, but Mario also has his cape and Luigi will eventually end up SHOURYUUKEN!ing someone, just you wait. Also, I origonally typed this in Word, so I have no idea how the paragraphing and fonts are going to turn out, but I'm praying.
Oh, and do a barrel roll.
Let it begin!
Mushroom Kingdom; Midmorning
“Well, that-a was a wonderful workout. There was a lot more Goombas today then usual, eh, Luigi?”
“Sure was. D’you think Bowser’s-a planin’ something again, bro?” Asked Luigi, his large nose bouncing as he waddled down the path.
“It would-a take a very crazy mushroom to know what that ol’ lug was-a thinkin’, Luigi,” replied Mario.
“Very true, bro. Very tru—“ A well-aimed hammer to the face managed to cut Luigi’s sentence fragment beyond grammatically incorrect and out the other side.
“Ow,” said Luigi, perfectly expressing his feelings.
“Looks like our workout isn’t over yet, bro!” exclaimed Mario, “Nice of Bowser to save us money on exercise equipment by supplying us with free hammer bros.!”
Luigi managed to pull a hammer almost as large as he was out of his tiny trouser pocket, and smiled.
“You think these chumps are hammer bros.?” he said, briefly wondering the correct way to punctuate the end of a sentence where the last word is an abbreviation with a period before coming to the conclusion that, like many things, no one would care but him. Mario pulled an equally large hammer from his equally small trouser pocket and wiggled his eyebrows in anticipation.
“Good point, Luigi. Lets-a show them how much they need to improve.” But their attempt was interrupted.
Dream Land; Lunchtime
“Poyo,” sighed Kirby. Maybe one day, Tac would realize that stealing Kirby’s copy ability only made him easier to eat, but Kirby hoped he wouldn’t. Free lunches are harder to come by when nothing bad is happening. It’s been so calm, recently. Fortunately, a faint “whoosh” on the wind told Kirby that it wouldn’t stay that way. Good. He was still hungry.
“Kirby!” Bellowed Meta Knight as he rushed down to meet his rival, “Today I shall defeat you once and for all!” Kirby turned the eyepiece of his “Copy” copy ability to meet his lunch.
“Poyo?” He asked Lunch.
“Not likely, Kirby!” Replied Meta Knight, landing in front of his nemesis. Suddenly, he simply didn’t have wings anymore, just a stylin’ cape. Kirby always wondered how lunch managed to do that. “I have mastered a new technique, so powerful that nothing can beat it except itself!”
“Poyo,” Kirby eloquently pointed out.
“Ummm… huh,” said Meta Knight, stroking his lack of chin, “That’s a valid point, Kirby.”
Kirby sighed, though it sounded more like a drawn-out “poyo.” Lunch was always pretty stupid.
“Poyo,” said Kirby.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” answered Meta Knight. “Perhaps if I managed to…” Kirby left Meta Knight pondering, deciding he shouldn’t eat anything if it would make so much noise in his stomach. He was in the mood for an umbrella, anyway. He got something rather different.
Planet G9-47; 0029 Federation Hours
“Every Time!” Screamed Samus Aran to herself, activating her speed boost and crashing through a wall, “Every freaking time! You’d think planets would be more stable then this! Oh, so help me god, if you don’t open…” Her voice trailed off as the door, riddled with plasma beam blasts, screeched ajar. “Thank you! But seriously: you just shoot some stupid, mutated whatever in the face enough and the whole planet decides to blast open in four minutes! And then there’s…”
“The Hunter!” warbled the ghastly voice of a Pirate Commando. “Kill the Hunter! She uses colons in her sentences! Even when she’s enraged! How ******** is that! Kill the Hunter and her thrice-cursed grammar!”
“And then there’s the stupid Space Pirates! Go home, you freaks! The whole planet’s going to explode; you should be getting to your ships, not your grenade launchers!”
The pirate’s faces twisted with rage and horror.
“Was... WAS THAT A SEMI-COLON??? OMG WTF GTFO KILLTEHHUNTERKILLTEHHUNTERKILLTEHHUNTERRRRRR!!!”
“This is stupid,” Samus growled. “They’re so one-minded! Like… trolls. Or flames, or something. It’s like they’re scared of intelligence!” Turning around, she fused five missiles with the energy of a charge beam and let the whole load go right at the nearest commando. The unfortunate target managed to get his shield up just in time to get killed by being blasted off a cliff rather then just plain blasted.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t be complaining, though,” muttered Samus. “It’s nice to have foes that are too stupid to go thorough doors.” She sent a power beam blast to disrupt the energy field, and it worked. Just as if on cue, the door didn’t.
“No, no, no! Not now!” She fired additional shots at the blast door. It remained closed, looking smug about itself.
“TEHHUNTER!” Shrieked the demented space pirates, as they feebly nicked away at Samus’s massive energy tank storage. They were rewarded by a glacier in the face. The timer on Samus’s HUD ticked down, and she desperately tried to open the door in front of her.
Because making little “Thbbbttt” noises was out of the question, the door decided to put its blue energy field back up instead. Samus stared at it. It stubbornly persisted at keeping a lack of openness.
If doors could hear, this one would have been quite frightened at the sound of a power bomb going off in the general vicinity. Well, no, it probably wouldn’t have, because it was a door. But maybe even a door would have at least been surprised if it managed to realize it was not a door but in fact a pile of rubble.
“If you can’t open a door, make a passageway,” Samus muttered to herself as she sped back to her ship. Naturally, however, the universe had other plans.
Upper Corneria Atmosphere; 8304 (ROB 64 time)
“DO A BARREL ROLL!” Peppy Hare frothed as a satellite floated by. Falco clutched the bridge of his nose, or at least rested his wing on it.
“Pops, I’m not sure that would really help here,” he said.
“It deflects enemy fire!” replied Peppy, managing to talk by jiggling rather then actually moving his lips or tongue.
“Peppy, there isn’t anything here but us!” Retorted Falco angrily. Fox McCloud laughed. “Just humor him, Falco. Maybe it’ll help someday,” he said. Falco sighed, and then double-tapped his Arwing’s Z button to put his ship into a vomit-inducing super-spin. In the thin atmosphere high above Corneria, Falco was very surprised to hear the metallic pings of ricocheted laser fire.
“What the…?” Falco started, but he was cut off when additional volleys of fire turned his attention to other things.
Fox laughed as he preformed a U-turn towards the unseen foe. “That’s why I keep you on the team, Peppy!”
“Yeah, maybe you should listen to your elders, Falco!” screeched Slippy Toad, pulling up beside the team in his customized Arwing.
“Shut up, Slippy!” Growled Falco as he weaved through laser fire. Suddenly, ROB 64 decided he needed to chime in. “Enemy detected,” he warbled.
“Gee, I didn’t notice,” barked Falco through the com. “Would everyone just shut up so I can—“
“Spacial anomaly also detected,” continued ROB. “Interdimensional rift opening in point zero-zero-seven AU. Request immediate evacuation of all personnel.”
“—Focus on my... What?” finished Falco.
“Do a barrel roll,” whispered Peppy, but his voice was lost in the omnipresent roar of Corneria’s atmosphere escaping into a newly ripped hole in existence’s favorite pair of socks.
Hoenn Region; Cascoon Hour Six
“All right, Wooper,” came the cry of a Pokèmon master-in-training, “use Ice Punch!” His obedient partner jumped forward towards the enemy Scyther. The Scyther’s Trainer managed to look very surprised despite his feature-concealing cloak. The trainer spoke oddly, as if he was talking in a fake voice, and was bad at it. But because his features were useable behind the cloak, his vaguely masculine voice was the only hint to his gender. He spoke with genuine confusion and surprise:
“Wait, what? Ice Punch? Whooper doesn’t have any arms, let alone fists!” The Whooper’s master grinned.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t know that!” As the whooper got close, Scyther staggered back, as if it were hit by something invisible. The Scyther looked surprised, and then simply annoyed. The cloaked trainer sighed.
“All right Scyther, just Slash it.” Scyther irritably smacked away the whooper, which was promptly knocked out. Around them, many other battles continued.
“Wh-what???” Stammered the whooper’s trainer. “But my hit was super-effective!”
“Perhaps,” started the cloaked trainer dramatically, “but you forgot one simple thing!”
“What’s that?” He asked. The cloaked trainer leaned down. “Whooper sucks!!!” The opposing trainer’s protests were drowned out in the sounds of battle, like “Okay, Zubat! Mean Look!” or “Go, Prinplup! Metal Claw!” and even the occasional “Magikarp, SPLASH!!!” The cloaked trainer sat down on the floor and sighed. “I was hoping for a real tournament, not this useless circus.” Faintly, almost unnoticeable among the normal sounds of really stupid orders, the worried conversation of two trainers who had put their battle on pause could be heard.
“That doesn’t look like a Trick Room to me,” said the first, staring at the dark, swirling vortex in front of him. “Are you sure your Bronzong knows what it’s doing?”
“This has never happened before,” replied the second, her Pokèmon looking at her apologetically. “and we use this strategy all the time!”
“I guess we could find out,” the first said. “Rotom, use Ominous Wind!”
“Uhh, Bronzong, Gyro Ball!” said the second, but her Bronzong was blown away before it could react.
“Yep,” concluded the first. “Defiantly not a Trick Room. So what is it?” As if in response, the vortex began to move. Slowly at first, but the vortex gained steady speed, and then size, as it floated towards the cloaked trainer. He simply stared at it as the other members of the tournament fled for their lives, and shrugged. “I suppose I have nothing better to do,” came the murmured response as it engulfed him.
Unknown Place; Unknown Time, if any.
“You’re doing this brother, aren’t you? Stealing them away?” The voice was deep and it filled the void with echoes, making its speaker sound vastly powerful. The reply was drier and scratchy. If the first speaker was completely insane, he would sound just like his “brother.”
“I grow bored with your creations. Even the best are horribly predictable. They are not true life, so there is no pleasure in killing them!”
“And so you wish to fight the originals?” The first speaker was not unkindly in his response, though the insults to his creations were duly noted.
“Perhaps,” laughed the second speaker, “though I would like to see how our pets will get along with each other before we adopt them.” Though unseen, the first speaker might have smiled.
“Shall I make their world better, then, to pass the time?” It asked. A long, sarcastic laugh preceded the second speaker’s response.
“Naturally, any help from my dear, dear brother would be greatly appreciated.” The second speaker found his statement to be incredibly funny, and laughed even harder. He continued to echo his menacing chuckle for a long time afterwards. The first speaker simply got to work. All around various universes, prominent figures and fighters disappeared, and reappeared somewhere very, very different. Worlds apart, in fact.
