//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: The Crossover Chronicles: Adventures in Equestria // by Cool_Quick //------------------------------// Part One When Worlds Collide Chapter 1 Meeting Everyone The Time: Now The Place: Smash Mansion The sun rose gloriously over Smash Mansion. Birds began their morning serenade. Peace and quiet rose over the valley. That is, until you got to the Battlefield stage floating high above the mansion. “I’m really feeling it!” Shulk was feeling pain. Out of nowhere, Ganondorf appeared and hit Shulk with a Warlock Punch. Shulk flew out of the ring and returned with only one life left.He returned with a Back Slash; right on Ganondorf’s back. Samus also got in the way, and they were both knocked out. Now all that was left was Bowser. Shulk rushed in, and feinted. Bowser took it, and tried to hit Shulk with a side kick. Shulk simply used his Vision, and knocked Bowser into the boundary. “GAME!!!” the announcer (who was really just Master Hand) boomed. “The winner is… SHULK!!” Shulk was teleported back to Smash Mansion by a Pixelator, made by Professor E. Gadd, for their use only. When he returned to the Pixelator room, Dr. Mario checked him over, and then gave him a small pill. “Take-a this,” he said. “This-a should-a help the swelling.” “Thanks, Doc.” Shulk took a glass of water and drained the pill; making a face as it went down. Why did pills have to taste so bad? He looked up as Master Hand floated into the room. When Shulk had first arrived at Smash Mansion, he had asked how Master Hand talked or ate, or even saw or heard anything. The response was simple; “No clue.” “Well done.” Master Hand looked proud, well, as proud as a hand can look that is. “That’s the fifth battle you’ve won in a row.” “How’s Bowser?” Shulk asked. He was answered by a loud roar from the hospital wing. “A bit feisty,” Master Hand answered. “Good sign that he’s fine.” “When’s dinner?” Wario and Ryu asked at the same time. Then, they glared at each other like; "You dare talk at the same time as me?” “It’s almost ready,” was the reply as Master Hand floated away. “Oh, and Luigi’s cooking meat lasagna tonight.” He was met with a cheer. Awkward as Luigi may have been, he was an excellent cook. The smashers rushed into the massive dinner hall. It was an ornate room, with banners hung on the white brick walls. There were three rows of tables all over 20 feet long. On one side of the room, the wall was see through, so that you got a nice view of the valley below; the river flowing into a lake nearby, and the hills stretching to the ocean in the distance. It looked really nice now; especially since the sun was setting. In the summertime, the smashers would have beach parties there. Once, when they went to a beach party last summer, Wario had brought a grill with him. He had started cooking burgers inside a tent with his new grill, but got distracted by a volleyball tournament going on by the water. By the time he finally remembered his food and returned; the tent was catching fire. Luckily, Mario used F.L.U.D.D. to douse the flames, and the smashers still laughed about it. Another time, a month later in fact, Luigi brought a surfboard, and was awkwardly trying to learn how to surf. When Ryu saw Luigi get close, he jumped onto the other end of Luigi’s surfboard, and sent Luigi flying high into the air, where he ran into a flock of seagulls, before he belly flopped into the ocean with a huge splash right next to Bowser. Bowser, who didn’t really appreciate the early shower interrupting his suntan, breathed fire on Luigi as soon as he came out of the water. Luigi had run back toward the water with his swim trunks ablaze like a firework display, and jumped back in, causing the water to steam with a loud “sssss.” This story was still a popular one among the smashers. On the other side of the room was the kitchen, where wonderful smells were coming from. “Mmmm,” Mario said with his nose in the air, “That-a smells-a good-a.” “Why is he talking about Gouda cheese?” Link asked Wario. “I don’t care,” Wario replied. “I just want food.” Just then Luigi emerged, his chef’s hat lopsided on his head, his apron untied, his face sweaty from the hot kitchen and the work. He tried to whistle for silence but all it looked like he was getting was a sinus infection. Luckily for Luigi, Mario understood, and he whistled loudly; football coach style. A hush fell on the hall as Luigi stood up straight and announced, “Who wants lasagna?” Instantly, the smashers rushed toward the kitchen and reached for plates; almost knocking Luigi over. Luigi, a little scared, dove under a nearby table. “LINE UP, AND ACT LIKE CIVIL BEINGS!!” Master Hand yelled from his spot at the head of the room next to Crazy Hand. Crazy Hand was busy having a knife fight with himself, laughing each time a knife (luckily they were plastic) broke. The smashers instantly lined up and held out their plates. Luigi, regaining his composure and coming out from his table, took a portion of his famous lasagna and plopped it on each plate. He made sure to get extra for Wario and Ryu, knowing their appetite was immense. Bowser was back by this time with Bowser Jr. and the Koopalings, and also got a big portion (Luigi was scared he might do something wrong in front of Bowser and suffer for it, like at the beach party I mentioned). Finally, everyone was served, and there was a low hum of conversation in between bites. “Better than ever,” Fox McCloud said as he took a huge bite of lasagna. “Don’t put so much in your mouth at once, sonny.” Professor E. Gadd was a guest that night, and he was sitting next to Fox at the end of the table. He was poring over some blueprints that he was busy writing on. “What ith fat?” Fox asked with his mouth full. The professor gave him a look before replying, “Blueprints for my new Pixelator model. It should be ready for demonstration tomorrow.” “We’ll be there,” Ness mumbled absentmindedly as he fiddled with his yo-yo. When dinner was over, the smashers lined up to the automatic dishwasher (E. Gadd brand of course) and they all (almost all) thanked Luigi for the dinner. “Sure,” Luigi said; beaming with pride at another good dinner made. The Place: Orlando, Florida, Ten Years Ago He gave a grunt as the suitcase fell on his foot. Cursing under his breath, he reached down to pick it up, only to bang his head on the van door. Nearby, his sister giggled as he struggled with the common household item. His family told him that he was the only one they knew who could get into a fight with household appliances. Sometimes, admittedly, he even fought with the wall. When something like this happened, his dad liked to pop some popcorn and sit down to watch him give the wall a lecture. Most of the time, Dad would watch until he finally walked off, and then turn on a hockey game. His dad, John, was the household funnyman. His favorite gag was to walk into a room and suddenly start reciting some random poetry that he himself made up. He was the only guy that anyone knew that could make poetry out of anything. Once, he even made one about a squirrel that fell out of a tree in their backyard. This was a favorite story of theirs. His mom, Lucy, was outside, watering plants, when suddenly a squirrel fell right on top of her head. The squirrel just sat there in stunned silence for a moment, and then it shrieked and ran off. His dad told that story to anyone who would listen.At this moment, though, the boy was trying hard not to start yelling at his suitcase. He didn’t need his dad to break into random poetry if he heard. Grumbling mentally, he hoisted the suitcase over his shoulder, and reached back into the trunk to pick up the last suitcase. He only needed one, but it was a pretty good sized one.He looked up at the building and sighed. His mom had insisted that they go visit his dad at work. His dad worked at a lab. John was admittedly a bit of a nerd, but what he was doing here was important. The team that he was working with was trying to find a cure for every disease imaginable; anything from schizophrenia to cancer, to the common cold all the way to the most deadly virus. The boy’s name was 10 year old Chris White. He was just a regular boy, and his 7 year old sister was also normal. Not. Her name was Sarah, and she was already quite attractive. She would probably be a model one day. She was sporty, rambunctious, and had a sharp tongue. They went inside the lab, and were greeted by Chris’s dad. “John!” Chris’s mom exclaimed as he kissed her directly in front of everyone. The day passed uneventfully. But, at lunch… “So, you’re trying to find a cure for… what was it mom?” Chris asked. “Cancer, hon,” Mom replied, smiling. “Yes,” John said, giving a beaming smile. “We’ve made excellent progress.” “Do you think it will work?” “Of course.” John leaned forward, looking serious. “With this, all of those people out there, suffering from this disease, could be cured. Instantly! We’d save thousands. Millions even. It’s my life’s work, and my dream.” Chris smiled at his dad. Mom reached over and took his hand. “You’re doing great.” Suddenly, an alarm started going off. John got up and looked out the door at a passing assistant. “What’s happening?” “Fire!” the assistant gasped. “In the west quarter!” John and his family rushed from the lunchroom, towards the fire. Arriving in the room, they found several people trapped by smoke. “What happened?” John asked one panicked worker. “Someone dropped a cigarette in a trash can. The fire’s approaching the gasoline!” The worker rushed off screaming. “Run outside!” John yelled. “I’ll try to put out the fire.” Without a word, Chris, his mom, and his sister rushed through the hallways and out into the street. After getting to safety, they turned around… …just in time to see the place explode. “Dad!” “JOHN!” Suddenly a piece of shrapnel came down and hit Chris’ sister in the head, crushing her skull. John and Sarah both died that day. Or so it was thought. The Place: Stark Tower, Present Day Tony Stark loved serving drinks. It made him feel important. But serving drinks to the Avengers? Even more so. All of the Avengers had gathered inside Stark Tower for a break. Things seemed good, until Spider-Man decided to drop by. Then, he wanted a drink too. “Come on,” Tony whined as Spider-Man drained his fifth glass of cola. “Those things aren’t cheap you know.” Spider-Man looked up from his glass. “I think you got plenty of money for more. Plus, with how hot it is out there, I need it. I think that the temperature reading stands for how old you feel when you stand out there.” He looked at a screen nearby. “Eighty-five degrees. And I certainly feel eighty-five with that blast of heat.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Kids,” he muttered to himself. “You know I can hear you. Spider sense and all.” “Well, you needed to hear it anyway.” “Can I have another glass of cola?” “You’ve already had five gla…” Spider-Man shot out a web that pulled the bottle of cola out of Tony’s hand and into his. “Thanks!” he said brightly as he poured himself another glass. Tony stood with a Scrooge-like expression on his face. He looked tempted to pull out his Iron Man suit, and give Spider-Man a good punch in his under-the-mask smiling mug. Restraining himself, he attempted a smile, albeit it being rather restrained. “Well…” he said before realizing that there wasn’t really anything to say. What followed was a silence that really needed some crickets chirping. But, there were no crickets nearby, only cars down on the streets below. The silence lasted for an awkward two minutes, only broken by an occasional throat clearing from Thor, or maybe a shuffle from Bruce Banner, or maybe just a “Hum,” from Steve Rogers. Definitely awkward. Finally Spider-Man broke the silence. “This is awkward.” Thor grunted in agreement. “It took a mere mortal to finally say that.” “At least someone finally said something,” Tony said, sipping some root beer that he had found in his ice chest. A typical day, but something would change the next day. The Place: Smash Mansion After the dishes were cleaned, the smashers went into the game room. For those who haven’t been to Smash Mansion, the game room is about the size of a typical arcade. And it looked similar to an arcade, for game systems and arcade machines were neatly arranged all over and around the dark red walls. The room was always dim, because all arcades are that way, and Master Hand liked keeping to tradition. The floor was covered with a purplish red carpet, neatly swept daily. At the back of the room was a door that led into a room filled with games, ranging from NES cartridges to Nintendo Switch cartridges and everything in between. There was even a special Magnavox Odyssey 2 that Luigi had gotten years before (if you are a kid reading this, you probably have no idea what that is. It is a system released almost 40 years ago, long before the Smartphone. Yes, there was a time when, gasp, Smartphones didn’t exist). Surprisingly, it still worked, though it stayed in the back because it didn’t have any room in the main room (clever). Although the game consoles and arcade machines were neatly arranged in the main room, the back room looked like a herd of drunken water buffalo had run through the room a few times, followed by a tornado. Trying to find a game in there was like trying to find a speck of dirt in a huge pile of snow. Master Hand kept threatening to make the loser of a smash battle arrange the back room, but so far, he had forgotten every time. The smashers hoped it would continue to slip his mind. Mario, Pit, and Shulk sat down at the N64 console against the wall close to the middle of the room, while Meta Knight tried to find Mario Kart 64 in the back. Every so often he would say a questionable word, and get a look from Peach, who was piddling on a Gamecube game called Mario Party 6 with Lucina, King Dedede, and Sonic. They were actually sitting to the right of the N64 group. When Meta Knight swore for the fourth time after he dropped the game he had been looking for onto his foot, Peach finally exclaimed, “Language.” The nearby smashers laughed and Meta Knight’s yellow eyes glared at Peach as he hobbled over to his group with Mario Kart in his hand. “I’m a-gonna win,” Mario declared as the game loaded up. “You won last time,” Pit replied as Mario surfed through the menus. “This time, I won’t go down so easy.” The character selection screen came up, and Pit selected Luigi. “Good choice,” Luigi said as he came by with a huge stack of Wii games that made Pit wonder how he could see anything around it. Zelda was waving at him from the Wii console closer to the front of the room with Dark Pit and Yoshi. Luigi was trying not to fall over. “Is he gonna fall?” Pit asked. “I don’t think he’ll make it.” At that moment, Luigi tried to dodge PAC-MAN as he went by and nearly fell over the Whack-A-Mole machine. One of the Wii games fell over, but Luigi miraculously caught it on his foot. He continued to teeter for a moment, but regained his balance, which was quite impressive; especially since he had a couple of games on his head. “He might-a not,” Mario replied, selecting himself as his character.Meta Knight said nothing. Shulk tried to pretend he wasn’t with them as Mario and Pit continued to argue about whether Luigi would fall or not. Finally, Mario stopped himself when Luigi somehow managed to make it to the Wii console group, who cheered. “Let’s a-just a-play,” he said. He looked back at the screen just as Mario’s in game voice said “OK?” “YES, MR. OK!” Mario yelled at himself as Pit tried not to laugh. Meta Knight rolled his eyes, and Shulk continued to pretend he didn’t exist. Finally, the cup selection screen came up. Mario selected the Flower Cup. “OK?” said in game Mario again. Mario hit the button again with a loud and annoyed sigh. When Toad’s Turnpike began, Pit leaned forward, his controller at the ready. “Let’s do this.” The race itself was full of cursing from Meta Knight, arguing from Mario and Pit, and Shulk looking like he wanted to hit someone over the head with his controller. When Meta Knight hit what must have been his fifteenth car, he swore loudly. “Language,” came Peach’s voice again. Meta Knight looked tempted to throw the N64 or the TV at her. Maybe both.At the end of the race, Pit had won. “I only –a let-a you win,” Mario said. “Oh, so you intentionally hit that semi at the end, and also meant to shell yourself?” Pit asked with a smirk. “That was actually my shell,” Shulk explained, speaking for the first time in twenty minutes. He had gotten third place, right behind Mario. He probably would have gotten second, but his Yoshi had hit a banana peel right before he passed Mario. Mario had managed to squeak by him. Meta Knight’s Toad character had gotten fourth, mainly because he kept hitting cars. He was still muttering curses to himself about things you don’t want to know. Meanwhile, at the Wii section, Dark Pit put in Super Smash Bros. Brawl. While the game warmed up, Luigi lay collapsed on the floor, his arms completely sore from the stress of carrying over a dozen games at once. Yoshi was looking down at him, occasionally uttering a concerned “Yoshi,” but nothing more. Zelda was looking at him too, but with humor in her eyes. “Next time,” she said. “You can make two or more trips.” “How about you ask for one game at a time?” Luigi replied, looking like he wished he could disappear. Finally, the game was ready, and after Luigi exercised his tired muscles a bit, they fought for a while. They of course chose their respective fighter counterparts, with the exception of Dark Pit, who chose Ike. When Zelda gave him a look, he shrugged questioningly. “What? He’s got lots of power.” “Thank you,” the real Ike said as he passed by with Mario Kart 8 in his hand. “Did he walk by us on purpose just to do that?” Luigi wondered as Ike walked a little ways down toward the Wii U group consisting of him, Wario, Corrin, and Kirby. Kirby had to have a special controller, since he didn’t have fingers.All of the smashers played games for a while until around 10, when Master Hand announced that it was time to retire. The smashers put the games away (not in an orderly fashion), and retired to their dormitories. Luigi went into his room, and took off his overalls. He then took a warm soothing shower (the shower curtain green of course) and put on his nightshirt and nightcap (also green). After brushing his teeth, he lay down in his bed, looking at the moon shining through his window. “Tomorrow, things will get better,” he said to himself. And in another land, in a small cottage, a small bunny was curled up next to a couch. From the couch a small voice whispered, “Tomorrow will be a good one Angel Bunny. I know it.” They were going to certainly get an interesting day. As a matter of fact, nothing would ever be the same.