[Shamrockin13]

TartoonHand94

---

He didn’t know why he was here, all he knew was that he was here.  Among the jongleurs and entertainers, the gossiping wives and those cheering individuals whose purpose in life was nothing more than providing for the happiness of others.  Among bright colors and turning faces, he was somewhat... peculiar in his appearance; his typical outfit, a green long-sleeved undershirt, covered with a pair of black overalls fastened with golden buttons.  Absentmindedly, he fiddled with the gold buckle of his belt, his charcoal gloves tracing the black leather softened from use and travel.  At his hip, a rather small black gas mask, a minor, yet surprisingly effective method of protecting himself so far from the supposedly virulent disease running amuck about Li.  Not many would notice it unless they squinted, for it was half-concealed by a tan leather satchel hanging around his neck and falling down his right shoulder.

It was odd... he had been in Li for at least three years, and recognized many people and places along the way... though nobody, or hardly anybody that he knew seemed to recognize him.  He had, of course, realized long ago that it was merely because he had seen other individuals with the same problem; doppelgängers from inter-dimensional traveling who had never seen each other or even heard of one another, and written it up to simply mean that these individuals had simply never met him in their own worlds.  It would certainly explain why there was no warrant on his head... yet.

Of course, that theory also meant that there should be another... someone.  Argent eyes flicked back and forth suspiciously, his head turned towards the ground.  No need to call attention to himself.  Occasionally he would lift his head and offer a laugh to the crowd, if only to sate their need to hear the figure laugh along at the comedians along the curb, but for the most part, he gripped the brim of a dark green hat, occasionally removing it whenever he spotted someone familiar, and then replacing it when out of sight in the moving, waving crowd.  The crowd... almost a living being in its own right; the way it pulsated, shifted, conglomerated from place to place as if clotting a wound.  These were crowds that he was once familiar with; crowds which he had to be tugged through by a strong, demanding hand to prevent himself from getting lost, or at least assumed that he was going to get lost.

He didn’t like it here.  There were too many people.  There were too many eyes.  Subconsciously, his mind began to hum, a threatening, yet familiar crackle make itself known in the very tips of his fingers.  Thank God for the gloves... they would hold it long enough to get somewhere... secure.

Shoving his way though the crowd, he offered small growls and occasional mutters to the people who let out cries of displeasure and surprise.  They would get over it.  He was just another wolf in the fold, not hungry yet... just taking his pick of the herd.

Enboldened by how easily the fold crumpled before him, Mister L reached out and shoved another aside who was standing between him and open air.  Once out of the smothering mass, he would bolt away, back towards the darkness on the sides of the building, crossing his arms as he made his way through the block, silver eyes still flicking back and forth as the electric humming in his blood faded to a small ringing in his ears.  His flight or flight was still evident in his stiff poise, the straight, firm pressing of his lips, and the twitching of his left pinkie finger, but otherwise, he was just another darkly clad figure padding methodically down the street to an unknown, unnamed destination that not even he knew the location of.  Call it wandering, he called it his job paging; looking for trouble.

As he passed an alleyway, he spotted a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.  Freezing in his tracks, Mister L turned his head, looking to the side to spot the intruder...

What was this?

Just across the way, another person was standing, still as a statue just as he was.  The poise was the same, the posture, perhaps more relaxed, but still the same.  And the face...

Was he looking in a mirror?  There was no way to tell yet... his satchel and mask were on his right hip, and only his left side was facing the reflection.  Still... why was his reflection wearing a combination of green and blue?  Where was the black mask which fit neatly over his cheekbones, tied in the back with its remaining sash fluttering about?

Turning to point accusingly at the double, Mister L let out his first start of fury, the hum of lightning heightening in his veins.  “Who are you?!”

The standoff of the ages!
Who is the imposter and who is the original?
Who will come out okay?

Let the Mirror Gag begin!

[TartoonHand94]

He knew why here was here, but he didn’t know where he was. There was a call for a clogged pipe at a major intersection. What’s going in one end isn’t coming out the other and it’s causing a major traffic delay. Just another day on the job, but in this line of work, the world might as well be your office. What it meant to be a plumber sure has changed a lot the last few decades; One minute you’re under a sink or face deep in a toilet, next thing you know, you’re installing and repairing mass infrastructure. Pipes used to just be a system for transporting clean and dirty water, but before he and his brother knew it, turtles, crabs, flies and now even people, use these tubes to travel all over the kingdom.
Being plumbers may not be the most glamorous job, except when it is, but somebody’s gotta do it and the Mario Bros. are the best in the business. Especially when they expanded their services into princess saving. Now That put them on the map! Mario really found his calling in that department, but Luigi… He was happy kicking it old school. Fixing pipes might not be as impressive as battling armies of monsters single-handedly, but you save the day all the same, bringing happiness to others was its own reward, besides, it’s nowhere near as dangerous.

But this place might as well have been on the other side of the World 7 Maze with how hard it was to get there. Luigi could’ve just taken a pipe, but he’d risk getting himself stuck too, so he took the long way. But the address was vague at best and none of the street signs were matching the map! And for all these people hustling and bustling about, a rare few would notice him, a rare fewer would recognize him, and fair majority of them mistook him for Mario! …The Other Mario. The one dressed in red. Luigi was dressed in a long-sleeved green shirt under a pair of blue overalls fastened with golden buttons, bleach white gloves that were washed between every mission, and atop his head, a green cap proudly sporting a white emblem with a green L on it.
But back to the people, but not one of them could point him in the right direction yet. Some thought they knew, but their directions were as reliable as the map’s.

Soon it just came down to plumber’s instinct, and he began to look for entrances and exits to the subterranean pipe maze from the streets. Leaving a manhole open in the street’s just dangerous, so alley ways were much better for conspicuous cylinders jutting out of the ground. So, what now? Check every alley in the city? That’s literally dirty work that could take a toll and Luigi soon began to show it.

And inspecting an alleyway, he spotted a flicker of movement in the corner of his eyes. Freezing in his tracks, Luigi turned his head, looking to the spot, standing there…

What was This?

Just across the way, another person was standing, just as a statue as he was! Mario? What was he doing here? He thought he had executive duties today…wait a minute, that wasn’t Mario. Sure, the world may have a hard time telling the two apart, but the Mario Bros. knew each other better than anyone. This person wasn’t Mario…it was… Luigi? Same posture, same pose, same face… it must be Luigi.

Was he looking in a mirror? That would be an easy explanation and end to this, but…it didn’t seem to be enough. Why was his reflection wearing green and black instead of green and blue? Was the mirror dirty? His reflection stared back at with a symmetrically identical look of unsatisfied curiosity.

Turning to point accusingly at the double, Luigi let out his first start of fury, the hum of lightning heightening in his veins. “Who are you?!”
The mirror did the same. Was that just an echo, he looked behind him to check, and then back at his reflection.

He leaned in to take another look at him, and raised a hand to scratch his chin and stroke his mustache. His gloves were white, but his reflection’s gloves were charcoal black. But they were the same size. Curiouser still, he lifted his hand from his chin and touched his nose, eyes on his reflection to see if it did the same. He gave it a honking squeeze, tilted his face to profile, and slowly tugged on it, eyes fixated to test for a match.

[Shamrockin13]

Either he had lost his mind (which he already had) or he was seeing things. It didn’t make sense. Mirrors don’t reflect the past. He looked behind him, silently wondering if perhaps a certain illusionist was playing a trick on him. There was nobody there. It was only him and this mirror. Looking back, he saw that his doppelgänger had performed the exact same action, and was no looking at him with an identical face of confusion. As if by telepathy, both of them began to rub their chins, stroking their identical mustaches.

Peering out of the corner of his silver eyes and black mask, Mister L turned his head to profile, his fingers trailing to the rest of his features until settling on the bridge of his nose, pinching it and watching as his reflection confirmed his action. What kind of sick joke was this? What kind of cruel prank was being set on him? Averting his eyes, Mister L crossed his arms, tipping his head inquisitively and tapping his foot impatiently. If this was a prank... perhaps it would be best to walk away... But then he would never understand how it worked... Perhaps a show of the scientific method was in order.

1. Make an Observation
There is a reflection in front of me that mimics my every move.

2. Ask a Question
He looks like me, it is possible that he is me, but what and who exactly is he, what does he want, and how is he here?

3. Form a Hypothesis
There is a reflection of me here because there is a magic-user nearby inducing the image. This explains how he is so lifelike and compliments my every move.

4. Make a prediction based on the Hypothesis...

Tricky... what could he do that he himself could not do? Better question, what was he capable of doing now that he was no capable of doing at any point prior to this moment? It seemed... paradoxical, almost, the idea that there was no way to separate himself from a mirror, both entities being one and the same... They looked different, to be sure... but at their core...

One was an imposter, and the other was the original. But to each party, the other would inevitably seem to be the intruder. Take it rationally. Take it bit by bit, and then digest each piece of new information. Slowly, Mister L inched around the corner of the alleyway, out of sight from his copy. Once out of sight, Mister L allowed the pent up electricity gathered by his anxiety to discharge into a metal knickknack that he had withdrawn from his leather pouch, causing the hapless bits of metal to explode. Taking a breath, Mister L gingerly wiped his gloves, allowing the fragments of metal to disperse about his feet, and then, only then, began to collect his thoughts.

Muttering under his breath as he removed his hat, Mister L began to work out every possibility of the interaction, from ending in a fight, to trophyication, to amicable separation, and possible an alliance if the double was anything like him. Still, with all the variables, there were too many possible conclusions, too many possible hypotheses.

Risking a glance around the corner, Mister L saw sparkling blue eyes and a intrigued face, his face, peering back. Quickly pulling back, Mister L made up his mind, first wiping his brow with his hat and then holding the hat behind his back and calmly pacing across the entry back to where he had once stood. His eyes feasted on the doppelgänger as the corners of his mouth rose in a smug half-smirk, the best he could muster in being reassuring. It possessed same frame, the same posture, the same way that he smiled charmingly. A bit more sparkle in those bluebird eyes, a lighter countenance and Devil-may-care curl of his mustache, but they were the same. Interchangeably, irreplaceably, irreversibly, the same.

With lightning quick action, Mister L flipped the hat onto his head, pinching the brim tightly enough that he thought the tips of his fingers would go numb. It has been executed simultaneously. A tight spin and then a pose as if preparing to jump. Still the same. What couldn’t he do?

Catchphrase.

Pointing again, his face set with the expression of the devilish highwayman as he confronted the green wannabe, Mister L exclaimed with finality:

”HAVE AT YOU!"

Mister L :140/140 :45/45 Buffs-- Cooldowns--

[TartoonHand94]

Much to his expected surprise, the darkly dressed Luigi did the exact same to his identically long and rubbery nose. Overwhelmed by the minute inconsistencies screaming out from behind the overwhelming similarities, his patience began to falter. He averted his eyes and folded his arms, tipped his head and tapped his foot. This was too eerie. Luigi had to inch back around the corner just to get a hold of himself. He took his cap off and fanned himself with it.
There had to be an explanation for this! Did he have a Double Cherry on the way here and just forget? Did the other him take a powerup to shoot Dark Fireballs or something? …Actually, that sounded pretty reasonable, now that he thought about it, but even if it Were true, he could never be too careful.

Before putting it back on, Luigi risked a glance around the corner, Luigi found his handsome face again and peering back once again. Pulling back abruptly, Luigi wiped his brow with his cap.
…Hey! His cap! The L’s always reversed in Mirror Mode!
Armed with this new idea, Luigi calmy paced back to where he once stood, holding it behind his back.
Confident in his new plan, Luigi smirked half way, yet smugly. His reflection did the same, no surprise yet.

With the lightning quick action of a master platformer, Luigi flipped the cap back onto his head. That makes four fast hands. What about two fast feet? A Spin Jump! Spinning in place, Luigi stopped himself a pose short of jumping, that’s something Mario would do, but Luigi always looks before he leaps., and so did the other Luigi. Man, this guy takes player two thing all the way up the Icicle Mountain!
Wait, that might be it!
Pointing again, his face graced with the expression of a fiendish bandit, as he confronted the black wish-he-were, Luigi exclaimed with certainty:

“HAVE AT YOU!”

Only to have it repeated to him! Luigi covered his mouth. He felt weak in the knees and fell backwards onto the ground.
He… Fainted?

[Shamrockin13]

The reflection repeated his very words.  His own catchphrase.  Mister L’s glowering silver eyes widened and then narrowed again, but not for long.  Not a second after they had accused one another, the copy clasped its hands to its mouth, as if petrified by some factor.  Mister L watched with now wide glittering eyes as the character swayed, his knees buckling, and then without anything to hold him back, crumpled to the ground, having fallen backwards and hitting the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“Gah?!” Mister L gasped in surprise, a twinge of something he would have called empathy making itself known.  In a flash, he closed the gap, green electricity sparking from his fingertips and from his black workboots.  These sparks caused his silhouette to flash menacingly against the darkness, but the darkly clad individual payed the sights no mind, focusing solely on the individual collapsed on the ground.  What in the name of Luvbi happened?!  Yes, he had once been known to have a low shock tolerance, but this was ridiculous!

Skidding to a stop and dropping to his knees, the engineer dropped his satchel to the ground alongside his gas mask.  Worry about those things later.  Snatching his right glove’s loose fingertips in his teeth, Mister L ripped the sooty mess off his hand, revealing the pale fingers beneath.  Only for a beat, and then he held the back of his hand against the doppelgänger’s nose and mouth, checking for a breath.  Simultaneously, he pressed his left hand’s fingers against the carotid artery on the character’s throat, feeling for pulse.  After a few seconds, he nodded.  Stable, perhaps...  Aware?  Unlikely.

Why was he on the ground, doing this?  He could rob him and then run off.  No witness, force the robbed to believe that it had been a hallucination of some sort... one too many punches on the snake, perhaps?  Then why was he instead whispering in a hushed voice, trying to get his attention?  Why was he so engrossed in assisting a shade of himself?

He wasn’t even sure of the individual’s name, what he knew was that they looked just like him... almost like a miniature, more clumsy version of who he used to be.  “Junior?  Junior, can you hear me?  C’mon, I can’t be standing in the open like this...” The last bit was grumbled to himself, frantically looking back and forth for any passer-by who could be watching the interaction.  His voice was deep; suave, almost.  Nothing like the typically cheerful banter that he remembered.  “For the love of 1-UPS, Junior, CAN YOU HEAR ME?!”

Green electricity cowled Mister L’s hunched form, jumping from him to Junior, undiluted, and this was what caused the Green Thunder’s deadly sin came to fruition.  In a fit of pique and thrill of the moment, he drew his hand back, wielding his black glove, and brought it stinging across Junior’s cheeks.  If you can’t wake ‘em up quickly; knock some sense into them.  “WAKE UP, DAMN IT, YOU’RE MAKING ME LOOK LIKE I CARE!”

Mister L :140/140 :45/45 Buffs-- Cooldowns--

[TartoonHand94]

“-Aha!” the floord Luigi’s eyes flashed open, his hand clamping onto his kneeling doppelganger’s arm like a Chain Chomp trap. Little did this tall dark and handsome fellow know that Luigi was a master of Neutral Jing!
“I’m-a the only one on-a the ground!” He pointificated by pointing the other Luigi in his handsomely bulbous nose. “That proves you are an imposterior-BLIZZRT!!!” He...might not have seen the whole Thunder Hand thing coming. “Mama Mia! Brrr….”
Standing erect as a livewire with his moustache on end, Luigi shook off the aftershocks and assumed a confrontational stance.
“Okay! Why Are-A You, And Who Do You Look Like Me?”

[Shamrockin13]

And this was why he no longer helped other people or saved them from any sort of danger.  He always got the shaft for it.  It had been a setup from the start, a clever ruse to get him close and then SNAP! Catch him in the act.  God, how many times would he keep reverting to his old ways?  When would he completely learn to have a mind like stone?  The white glove snatched his right striking hand at the forearm.  With a self-protective reflex, he snapped his left hand from before Junior's face to intercepting the pointed finger directly at his nose and pinning the hand by the wrist to the ground.  He had half a mind to put his foot on it... but by the strength the copy in the hand that grasped his forearm, Mister L thought better of it.  It would be best to assure and confirm for himself the high ground.  He still had the significant advantage should this transform into a full-out brawl.

A discharge of electricity caused the attacker to stop mid-accusation..  Good thing too; Mister L had not wanted him to keep talking, especially with his irreverent grammatical errors...  "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay down." Mister L couldn't help relapsing into his growl, his hand tightening on his foe's pinned wrist and his captured hand clenching in a fist.  In a heartbeat, he had changed from a concerned bystander back to his former, aggressive, perhaps even dangerous, self.  He had ignored his opponent's cry of  Italian distress.  They looked ridiculous.  Pathetic, even, the identical moustache bristling from the static and the obvious appearance of total incompetence.  Hapless fool.

Who was he?  Why did he look like this double?  "I could ask you the same thing,"  Mister L snarled, the right side of his lip twitching to briefly reveal tightly clenched teeth.  "You must have a severe inferiority complex if you feel the need to go about pretending to be someone you aren't."  The end of his words were marked by a low chuckle devoid of humor.  "But since we are where we are, Junior, why don't we set a few things straight, hm?"  

Should the copy attempt to interrupt him during any point of the spiel, Mister L would release his hand guarding the other's wrist and then press his index finger to the double's lips in a threatening hushing fashion.  "Mister L, the Green Thunder.  Legendary Man in Green, prophesied destroyer of Worlds.  I have a few theories as to why we look alike, Junior, but I want to hear your excuses first.  Be my guest?"

A dark grin crossed the dark inventor's face, causing his mask to rise ever slightly higher on his cheekbones.  It was the sort of grin that preceded a blackmail threat or the honeyed words of a charlatan.  'Tread lightly, my friend...'  Mister L thought to himself, a plethora of thoughts on how to deal with this variable instantly crossing his mind and then vanishing from whence they came...

Mister L :140/140 :45/45 Buffs-- Cooldowns--

[TartoonHand94]

Well That was a low blow… Luigi’s eyes briefly shot down to his overalls and up at his cap at the doppelganger’s mention of them. He didn’t dress like that because of his inferiority complex… He doesn’t have an inferiority complex! ...Does he? Is it that obvious? Focus, Luigi!

“I’m-a Lu-umph!” Luigi tried to bark a retort before being interrupted by a black gloved finger. He had half a mind to bit that finger if he hadn’t had no idea where it had been. Finally it was his time to introduce himself and his aliases. Huh, the ‘Man in Green’s already taken? What about the ‘Eternal Understudy?’ No. ‘The King of Second Bananas?’ That’s no good easy.

“I’m-a Luigi! Number One!” Luigi swatted the finger away with his nose to assert himself.
“And first off, I’m-a no dress like-a this to copy my big bro Mario, Wario and Waluigi wear Their overalls to copy Us!” He pontifically retorted. “I’m-a wear these overalls because I’m a Plumber! They’re also good for construction, demolition, to play the tennis, golfing, go-karting, base-a-ball, basket-a-ball, foot-a-ball, volley-the-ball, hockey and Olympic Events, -Now that I’m-a think about it maybe That’s-a why those two wear them too…” Luigi began to ramble lost in explanation before remembering what he was talking about.
“Anyway Second, a Copy Flower and a Double Cherry have-a the power to make duplicates, but I’m-a no remember having any for breakfast today.” He shrewdly laid out his first theory of why he was talking to himself.
“But that also no account for what you’re wearing…” Luigi squinted at Mr. L. up and down. “…My big bro Mario’s a Leader around here and he tells me all of the time about how some people look-a the same, not just-a because they’re both Toads but because they come-a from other dimensions.” He disclosed as if being a Leader’s brother gave him some sort of status. “His colleague Arle has-a dozens of a the Doppel’s! Oh! Oh! Does this-a mean Luigi has Doppels too?” He suddenly got excited by the prospect.

[Shamrockin13]

Silver eyes flicked across his duplicate's blue.  His eyes had once been like Junior's; warm, curious, prone to switching between emotions of confusion, anger, excitement, and a multitude of others.  But he was no longer sated with merely watching the eyes with a feeling of intrigue or confusion, but rather that of interrogation.  He was scouring them for the truths and lies of the words.  If memory served, he had once been loyal to a fault, trusting and naïf, speaking his mind and everything that was on it.

Some things never changed, it seemed.  Indeed, he did remember trivial rivalries between the wannabe 'brothers', the sporting events, and the menial labor that he had once performed alongside Red.  Despite himself, Mister L found himself nodding along slowly, his glare softening to that of slight understanding. ."Understandable..." He quietly murmured, tapping his now rejected finger on his mask, twisting his moustache thoughtfully.

And now for the theories.  He nearly chuckled at the first one.  Even should they have consumed a double cherry, they would have created a perfectly color copy of the eater.  In a way, He supposed that it could have been possible that he had been a double cherry gone rogue... but that was impossible for more than one reason.  At the mention of different dimensions, Mister L clicked his fingers, pointing at Junior again.  "Bingo.  I knew there was a bit of my genius in there after all."  Cocky, absolutely.  Wrong?  Nonsense.

"I'm what you would call... your duality.  Alter Ego,  if you want to be more blunt."  Should he be telling this stranger this precious information?  Yes, if he wanted the benefits of knowledge to be two-sided.  "Yes, yes, yes I'm well aware that our brother runs a third of this triumvirate.  And don't get yourself too worked up.  I highly doubt that there are too many of us; or at least I haven't been in contact with any."  Interesting prospect, actually.  How He would love to meet more of himself.  Imagine the danger that the two of them would garner...  Sharing the same brilliance and shrewdness as the other

"And how is our shorter, more dull-minded compatriot?  Still as brash and headstrong as ever?  Making good with his inflated ego and dominating control over individuals like us?"  How else could he speak but in plural?  Were they not of the same being?  The same blood, despite the crossing and the forking of their paths?  Letting out a sigh, looking about himself with slight earnest, observing that there was nobody to be seen on either side (thank God), Mister L pulled away, still permitting his wrist to be caught, should Junior decide to keep hold of his prey.  Not that it mattered.  Mister L was keeping half an eye on the thumb of his adversary, prepared for anything.  "And what of you?"  He spotted the pipes and the plumbing gear nearby, clicking his tongue in a mockingly chiding manner.  "Still crawling around in the sewers, are we...  Tsk, tsk, tsk...  Same old, same old.  Good times." 

By this point, He was leaning up against the alley wall in a surprisingly relaxed regard.  He was curious now, more than anything.  And curiosity was another dangerous trait of his.  This was too good not to continue speaking.  Had his temperament changed at all?  Certainly, his speech quirks and thick accent hadn't.  So what was new?

Mister L :140/140 :45/45 Buffs-- Cooldowns--

[TartoonHand94]

“Genius? Oho well, I’m-a mean…I’m-a did hold the Wit Star Stamp for that party that-a onetime~…” Luigi chuckled with a goofy grin, his reaction making clear how unaccustomed he was to compliments like that. So, this Doppel was indeed his dual alter ego. “Duality, eh? That don’t-a mean we gotta Duel now, do it? Eheh…” He asked jokingly still thinking about that party, hoping for a no.

“Ho ho! I’m-a could only dream what it would be like to have a whole stack of Luigis jumping around…” Luigi trailed off as he imagining the thought. “We could get so much work done…save so many princesses…” He swooned before bringing himself back down to earth. “But ay, two Luigi’s better than none, amirite?”

Luigi had to grit his teeth to stifle a chuckle at Mario being described as shorter and more dull minded.
“Oh yeah, in fact he-” Luigi began to agree with him being brash and headstrong but was cut off at the bit about his overinflated ego and dominated control over them. His chuckle faded. Was he upset by the description, or how true he realized it felt?

Luigi’s grip on Mr. L’s arm did loosen, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he slid his hand down to hold his duality’s. Mr. L struck him as the kind who could use more... positive reinforcement. If anyone, Luigi knew what it was like to feel alone, and what it was like to have someone make you feel less alone. Mario was this for Luigi, so why couldn’t Luigi be this person for Mr. L? Luigis had to stick together, after all.

“Ay, it’s not-a much, but it’s-a honest work!” Luigi turned up his nose, pouting with pride in his work. “Not-a to mention how many coins are just spinning around down-a there free for the picking~.” He opened a twinkling eye smugly. “It’s-a literal Gold Mine down-a there and everybody’s sleeping on it.” He flipped a golden coin with his thumb for emphasis. “And what about-a you? How do You grab-a the coins to put pane on-a the table, hmm?”

[Shamrockin13]

Despite himself, He had to smile at Junior’s humor.  It was too scary.  It was too scary how similar they were.  He felt the passion that Junior felt in his words and his speech.  Everything from his light jesting tone and shameless wit, all the way to his passion and speaking about the princesses that he himself used to rescue.  Even now, Mister L wondered where they were.  Did they know about his exile, about his side of the tale?  Had they simply accepted his elder’s words as law?  Nothing would have surprised Mister L by now.  If anything, he wanted to see Junior’s brother.  He wanted to see the tyrant himself.  At the point when Junior mentioned the lack of versions of himself, Mister L offered a lopsided smile.  “Yes.  I suppose so.”

By this point, a gentle static had begun to fill the air.  Not enough to offer discharge, but just enough to feel the tingle of electricity and cause their hair to begin to raise, almost as if they had rubbed their hair with a balloon.

Mister L found his thoughts beginning to wander.  Loneliness was not a new feeling to him, nor was madness.  Indeed, he had first lost his sanity when he had hosted the Heart of Chaos, and it had only deteriorated since then.  He knew what it felt like to be a marionette, a puppet whose string could be cut and then strung up again, by a master puppeteer who knew no bounds.  Did Junior know of it?  To have the entire weight of the world on his shoulders, and know that had one variable wandered, gone awry...  Mister L didn’t want to speak of that.  He didn’t trust enough yet.  Still, his posture was loosening, a genuine, bright smile beginning to spread from ear to ear.

That was, until Junior loosened his grip.. and decided that it would be fine to hold his dark version’s hand.  That was when Mister L’s control snapped, and with a quick movement, his eyes widening and his pupils dilating like a cornered wild animal, his free hand covered Junior’s, snatching the opposing pinkie and then twisting it over the back of Junior’s hand towards the thumb.  A self-defense maneuver, something that Mister L had learned over the years.

images.app.goo.gl/Xy613tgCsw2RNvDj8

“Don’t.  Touch.  Me.”  Mister L hissed, pulling his hands away and pressing to the wall.  With a sulking scowl, he crossed his arms, picking at a black oil stain that had dried on the once green shirt.  “Regardless of if you are me, Don’t touch me.  I don’t want your pity, and I don’t.  Need.  It.”  Still, there was something in the touch that had been eerily familiar, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time.  No.  No.  He didn’t deserve compassion, or redemption for that matter.

However, the slip up on Junior’s behalf did nothing to prevent Mister L from continuing their conversation, and with a former look of disinterest, he nodded along with Junior’s words, his eyes narrowing suspiciously, ever watchful of those hands which could attempt another attack.  “Aye, the Underground is quite the gold mine.  However, I prefer the Illicit Underworld.  Sometimes it’s easier to join ‘em than to beat them.  And it’s almost always more lucrative.  Heroes and villains alike are always looking for ways to benefit themselves the most.  That’s when drifters like me can make a tidy profit.  I make things.”   As he spoke, Mister L pressed his homemade gas mask to his face, showing Junior its usefulness.  “Especially during a pandemic, being a natural-born tinkerer has its benefits.  But I make other things too.  I’d have to end your Game if I told, though.”  Perhaps it was a joke...  Perhaps not.  The stern look suggested  a distinct lack of jest.  Mister L brushed Junior a few of the metal knickknacks, not unlike the one that had faced the Green Thunder’s wrath earlier.  It was a metal cube, covered in screws and loose bolts.  It appeared to be some sort of item meant for one to fidget with.

Mister L :140/140 :45/45 Buffs-- Cooldowns--

[TartoonHand94]

Luigi’s moustache hairs begin to tingle and float, lifted by the static charge spreading through the air. All the more to make the new smile on his face clear to see until…

“Eeeyoohoohow!” Luigi wretched in pain, letting go of Mr. L’s hand to nurse his finger. Well That wasn’t very nice. “Sheesh… Okidoki then… Mama Mia it’s-a like to shaking your hands with-a Piranha Plant.”
With a betrayed pout he crossed his arms identically, with his pinky in his mouth being the one spotable difference. This guy was gonna take more than time and patience… He was gonna take endurance to finally come around.

“I mean-a…Me and Mario even team up with-a Bowser himself whenever it’s-a convenient but…” Luigi tried to muster an answer to the notion of working with the illicit Underworld. Just because they were Italian didn’t have to mean they were in the mafia, did it?
Luigi’s eyes widened with interest at Mr. L’s mask upon revealing he was an inventor. “You make this? I’m-a fix things.” He commented on the inherent similarity before getting distracted by the metal cube.
“Ooh, what does this-a do?” He asked, entranced with curiosity, coming dangerously close to touching it, but the pain still lingering in his pinky reminded his hand to retreat before repeating a mistake.