Chapter Text
Thus far, observing the Mario Brothers and their fight against the vile Cackletta had been a mixture of entertaining and nail-biting — though the prince never bit his nails, of course. Instead, Peasley watched languidly from the rafters of the Hooniversity, perched atop his winged steed, keeping attentive to every hop, jump, and leap the siblings pulled off with ease.
He didn’t interfere, more than happy to let the superstar siblings do their thing. He couldn’t deny the impression they’d made. The brothers, Luigi and Mr. Red both, were undeniably talented.
Not only that, but they'd been far more competent facing down Cackletta and Fawful compared to Peasley's first attempt. Even the memory made his face flush. He’d done dreadfully when last facing the villains: captured, taken to Hoohoo Mountain's peak, and forcibly turned into a slobbering beast. And then, adding insult to injury, the brothers had to rescue him from that perilous, humiliating fate. And that was their first impression of him? Oh, the embarrassment might have done him in, had it not been for his continued “missions" serving as distractions: tracking the wicked witch down for the brothers to chase and defeat.
He only regretted how much the kingdom—and by extension, he—was relying on the visitors. Before they arrived, it was normally up to him to handle the riffraff plaguing the Beanbean Kingdom. Granted, the "riffraff" was usually nothing more than a few common thieves and troublemakers; it was never witches and their fury-fueled pupils.
That said, he had managed to trick the villainous duo with his clever bait-and-switch with Princess Peach's voice, so he couldn't complain. He still had his part to play.
Though, despite their expert handling of things, Peasley couldn't help feeling that he wasn't doing enough to aid the siblings. In part, that's why he was here now. To ensure that, if the worst came to pass, he’d be able to help. His fingers fluttered on the hilt of his sheathed sword, taking watch of the battle below. He might have dropped in earlier, but he knew they had everything under control. There hadn't yet been an obstacle they couldn't face.
His brown eyes glinted as shouts came from below, catching his attention quickly. His steed, beneath him, flapped her wings anxiously.
"Weegie, look out!" A cloud of tiny squawking bats—ones that much resembled the beanish witch—enveloped Mario's echoing voice. Peasley watched the shorter of the brothers collapse to the ground, hesitating on his instinct to dismount and help as Luigi's voice sounded.
"Mario!"
Luigi took swift charge, swinging his hammer down on Cackletta with a skillfully-timed jump. On top of that, he grabbed the poison-afflicted, motionless Mario, holding him up on his back. Peasley couldn't help the awe on his face as he watched Luigi take extra time to heal up his brother, even as Cackletta's torrential downpour of attacks refused to let up.
What couldn't the man do, Peasley thought with a blissful, dreamy, sigh.
His adoration for the charming Luigi wasn't something he tried to hide, what with gifting him a personally autographed rose upon their first meeting and showering him with a plethora of compliments and nicknames upon each subsequent meeting. After this thrashing, he'd have even more thanks to endow the brothers with... though, he was sure he would have especially much to say about Luigi.
Even now, the taller brother commanded their Bros. Attacks with conviction, sending a fully-healed Mario flying at Cackletta's enraged face to knock her back a few paces.
The two battling brothers passed over a green lump smushed into the Hooniversity's steel flooring, who Peasley identified as Fawful. The minion had been pummeled before the climactic fight had even begun. Recalling the memory of the cumbersome little minion kidnapping him, Peasley delighted at the sight, stifling the boisterous, unregal laugh that tickled his throat. He didn't want to give away his position. Not yet.
Finally, after several long minutes of touch and go, Cackletta collapsed to the ground. Once more, Peasley held off polite cheers for later.
"Graaagh... hhhrk..." She spit on the ground.
Pitiless sounds escaped the wicked witch, echoing off the hollowed halls of the Hooniversity she had cursed. She struggled to stand, groaning.
“You… meddlesome…” she growled. A twinge in her voice was somber: something Peasley picked up on from several feet away. "H-how could this have happened?"
The brothers stood above her tattered silhouette, hammers in hand, as though anticipating she wouldn’t stay down. At her submission, they put their hammers away, sharing a silent fist bump. They said something to each other. To Peasley, it sounded like gibberish.
The prince smiled, crossing his arms, satisfied with this swift, painless conclusion. The brothers had put an end to this (evidently) minor invasion and solidified the protection of his beloved kingdom. Another job well done. He would offer his formal congratulations as soon as—
“CACKLETTA! Do not have worries!”
"Oh, what now?" Peasley lamented with a groan.
His gaze turned back to the battlefield, hand on his sword's hilt. Fawful popped out of the ground and ran ahead of the brothers, slipping past them and hurrying over to Cackletta. With a flourish, the insufferable minion summoned his headgear equipment. Peasley held a white-knuckled fist, drawing his sword. He was more annoyed than anything else. As if he’d let all their hard work thus far amount to nothing! Fawful would have to try harder than that to…
"Watch!" Fawful tittered, a large grin on his face. He activated a feature on the vacuum helmet. "I am sucking up your energy with this headgear!"
Peasley's expression quickly changed as Fawful sucked up the supernatural remnants of Cackletta’s form, the action itself nothing short of a marvel. The headgear accommodated the size of the witch’s unnerving spirit, her soul looking like a purple, smoky thunderstorm trapped in a bottle.
From above, he heard her crackly voice toll as she commanded one last attack upon the awestruck brothers. Left vulnerable and open, they needed something... no- they needed someone—! They needed someone to swoop in and assist.
And who better than he?
Peasley's determined grin solidified. He’d found his golden opportunity.
In a flash, he bounded out of the shadows and dropped in front of the brothers, shimmering with his trademark eccentric and ever-radiant glow. That sent everyone into a tizzy. He gave his hair a toss and stood tall, expression confident as he faced down Fawful and Cackletta — what was left of her, at least. His winged steed kept close to the rafters.
Fawful's large grin instantly curved into a frown. “P-Peasley! Eugh! You had the spying on us?”
“Y-your Highness?” Luigi gasped out at the same time.
Peasley smiled back at Luigi, who—struck dumb and smitten—sputtered to greet him. That, and his eyes were still adjusting to the sudden burst of light that Peasley consistently emitted every time he entered a room. A stray bit of sparkle landed on his and Mario’s noses. The two wiped their eyes, looking up.
“Prince Peasley?” Luigi blurted at last, eventually able to get the words out. “What are you doing h—?”
He didn't have a chance to finish his sentence before Peasley dashed off ahead of him. He even lifted a finger to Luigi’s lips as he bolted past, as though to silence his worries.
“Fear not, superstar siblings! I have this under control,” he said with a gracious smile. He ran a hand through his hair yet again, chuckling. “You two relax. You’ve done enough for our kingdom. Now, allow me"—he flourished his cape—"to handle these vile creatures for you!”
He shot a focused glance to the taller, anxiety-ridden brother. If Luigi hadn’t still been recovering from the prince’s blinding entrance, he might have noticed Peasley winking at him.
After all, the prince thought with a smile, Luigi would be thanking him after all this was said and done. For now, Peasley had villains to vanquish!
With a sharp swish and sling of his sword, he sent Fawful careening backward. The minion wobbled for a moment before falling, hitting the ground hard. The prince quickly sheathed his sword, brushing his hands off.
“There we are!" He placed his hands on his hips. "I trust you're relieved, greenie?"
He turned back to Luigi, who released a relieved yet utterly anxious giggle. Peasley smiled. Oh, how he loved that sound.
Behind them, though, not all was well. Fawful's tumble meant his hands had gone into panic mode, grasping for the floor beneath him and losing control of the headgear atop his head... and the glass container filled with what was left of Cackletta — her soul.
When Fawful hit the floor, the vessel went down with him, shattering into pieces as it made contact. The sound made everyone in the atrium freeze.
With a screech, Cackletta’s wispy remains broke free, clawing free of the containment vessel and into the open air of the university. She shrieked. Alarmed, Peasley turned back to her and Fawful. Fawful looked equally worried, fumbling to pick up his headgear as Cackletta howled again. There was no telling if the screams were from pain, anger, or a mixture of something in-between.
Luigi and Mario covered their ears, wincing. Luigi looked at Peasley with wide eyes, who stood a few inches ahead of them.
“Uhm–! W-was this part of your plan?” he asked.
He tried to ask it hopefully—playfully, even—but it came off harsh. He wished he could take it back the second it left his mouth, because Peasley’s expression of discontent wasn’t helped at all by the query. In fact, the prince looked more pale than Luigi had ever seen him; his face was a slate, gray color. He’d expected a smug smile or a charismatic retort, not pure fear accompanied by a blanched expression.
The movements of Cackletta's smog-like spirit made a wind pick up and bluster around them, nearly taking the brothers' signature hats off their heads. The atrium filled with mist, the air around them growing dark, thick, and hazy. An overwhelming chill burst through the chamber.
“I didn’t mean to break the... t-that machine of his!” Peasley admitted, gesturing toward Fawful, who was still struggling to pick himself back up. Peasley swallowed hard, attempting to explain himself. “I only meant to knock him back, and cast the fiends out of here! I didn't mean—"
Whatever plan he had now didn’t matter.
“S-stay behind me!” He faltered on his words, but he didn’t say anything else. He didn't feel it would help.
His command hung in the air, and the brothers did as asked. Peasley drew his sword once again, holding it up, as though it might be able to pierce the vaporous witch's form. Peasley backed up, raising both arms like a shield to protect the weary green plumber behind him… and his brother, too, of course. He didn’t know what to expect now, so he braced himself for whatever Cackletta might throw at them.
Overhead, she circled like a small purple storm, stray particles of lightning cracking down on the floor near their feet, leaving scorched spots behind. Luigi yelped, leaping back and sticking close to the others.
"Peasley, w-what do we—?"
An ear-splitting shriek cut Luigi's question off. Mario wrapped an arm around him, trying to create a barrier between them and Cackletta’s soul as it darted around, now lowering to the ground to better ensnare the trio. Peasley's winged steed above them squawked in fear, batting her wings anxiously against the dire winds blasting through the atrium.
Peasley’s heart pounded. It wasn’t from fear, not entirely. Instead, it was a unique sense of shame that made his intestines coil and stomach curdle. He thought with a grimace about how none of this was going according to his original plan, sweat beading down his face. But he couldn’t let anyone but him know that. He had to make it seem to everyone—especially Cackletta and Fawful—that he still had the upper hand. He could salvage this, he knew he could, he always found a way to... to...
Peasley cursed himself, but the guilt would have to wait.
Luigi, tallest of the three, peered over Peasley and Mario's shoulders, gaze transfixed on Cackletta's frenzied movements as she swirled around them. Eventually, she grew tired of encircling the three and instead went back toward the ceiling, raining hellfire and lightning upon them, trying to rid herself of the pests who had done this to her in the first place.
Mario dove out of the way with Luigi, and Peasley, with a few well-timed swings of his sword, managed to bounce the strikes back at Cackletta. Her wispy body, fading fast, was running out of places to go. Peasley couldn't help a smirk, even if his perfect curls were drenched in a nervous sweat. If they could just tire her out, the witch would do herself in!
"I have a plan," he shouted back to Mario and Luigi, "but we'll need to—"
Peasley was quickly silenced by a blazing fireball whizzing straight past his face, narrowly missing him.
Fawful, following through on the last command Cackletta had given him, had finally fixed his headgear. He went ahead and attacked the panicking heroes, laughing all the while, his high-pitched chortling echoing across the atrium, joining in with the whooshing and shrieking of Cackletta above.
Fawful's trusty headgear whirred, spitting projectiles all over. The three scattered, Mario and Luigi going in one direction with Peasley going in the other. Fawful made a choice to keep shooting energy balls at the meddlesome siblings, focusing on Luigi, seeing as he was the one who had decided to bash Fawful's head into the ground earlier.
"Stay still, little fink-rats, so I can blast you!"
Peasley noticed their plight and tried to step in, but Cackletta's voice drew his attention first.
"You..."
He froze, looking over his shoulder. He shielded his face with one arm, looking up at the unhinged expression of the deceased spirit looming over him. Her sharp rows of teeth, reflected even in her soul, curled into a dangerous frown. Violet fumes struck the ground, surrounding the beanish prince. His breathing hitched.
In a sense, he felt he remembered that same expression from long ago, sometime from his childhood — perhaps even earlier. Along with it, he remembered a strange sense of betrayal, like a knife pressed hot in his back. So, he did not cast his back on her, turning to instead face her head-on. False confidence plastered across his face. He held out his sword, though nervous tears pricked his eyes.
"Loathsome... little..." she said, her voice fading out and crackling with each ragged breath. Peasley looked up at her. Her wild eyes, white and soulless, regarded him with a disdain that made his blood run cold. "You... you..."
But then, as she looked ahead at Mario and Luigi still battling her pupil, and as she regarded the evidence of her failed attempt at awakening the Beanstar, her expression of rage lifted. Her face split open into a grin.
She smiled, peering down at Peasley. He couldn't find it in him to flee.
"You'll have to do."
She then descended upon him, the outline of her teeth and horns sharp, jaws raised and ready to snap. Peasley screamed. Soon all he could hear was laughter as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell to his knees, hitting the ground.
Everything went very still.
Cackletta's spirit, her soul, was nowhere in sight. Her laughter and shrieking had gone eerily silent, the atrium filling with a suffocating quiet. The wind had died as quickly as it'd come. The smog cleared. The only sound was the gentle clattering of a sword, the metal hitting the ground and landing with a desolate, solitary clang.
Luigi, preoccupied at Mario’s side, could only watch from afar as Peasley dropped to the ground. He’d heard the sword clatter first. Then, when he looked, Peasley was already slumped on the ground, lying on his side, still as a corpse.
His heart sank. “No!”
Even Fawful seemed eerily silent. His laughter, too, had gone quiet, scanning the room wearily for his mentor. “Lady Cacklettaaaa?”
Mario and Luigi didn’t even have to look at each other to share a silent understanding. Mario took care of Fawful, making sure to hit extra hard on his next punch. At the same time, Luigi rushed over to the fallen prince, collapsing to his knees at Peasley's side.
“Y-your Highness!” Luigi cried, gently nudging him.
Stars above, did formalities really matter at a time like this?
He looked over him, checking for injuries. When he didn’t find any of those, he checked for a pulse, lifting Peasley’s wrist and clutching it tight. “P-Prince Peasley…? Can you hear me? P-please, please, wake up.”
After an agonizing beat of waiting, the prince twitched. Luigi’s chest lifted for one relieved moment.
But that misplaced hope didn’t last long.
All at once, Peasley’s eyes split open. Alarmingly, his sclera was now a stark, haunting pink. His irises fidgeted, having lost their familiar chestnut hue. Soon, those bloodshot eyes roved about, examining the face of the panicked Luigi above them. Peasley’s lips curled into his usual pearly-white smile, only, this time, his teeth were noticeably sharper. And the laugh that emerged from his throat was not his.
“Eeeyah ha ha ha ha!”
But he recognized it.
Luigi leaped back, jerking and landing wrong. A sharp pain shot through his side. He looked back at Peasley, a horrified expression dawning on his face as he watched Peasley get up.
Peasley’s head, limp like a doll’s, shot to attention. His loose, messy blonde hair moved behind his ears, two bat-like horns sprouting at the top of his skull with a crackling squelch. He stood, bones cracking into place, as though his skeleton had dislocated and shifted around in his spell of unconsciousness. He smiled as wide as manageable, his grin sharpened to a terrifying degree: an elusive, malevolent one with far, far too many teeth.
“Well, well… that worked better than I expected!” The voice that wasn't Peasley's laughed again. They licked over their rows of sharp teeth.
“Prince P-Peasley?” Luigi asked.
“Oohhoho, no. So sorry to say, you blubbering fool!" Peasley cackled, irises becoming pinpricks. The witch's voice spoke, clear as day. "But the itty-bitty prince is unavailable at the moment. You’ll have to answer to me now!”
“You! W-what did you do?” Luigi demanded. Even with all his fear, he couldn’t help but be angry. Whatever she'd done to Peasley, it wasn't any good.
"Oh!"
Fawful's high-pitched voice rang out behind them. Luigi looked back to see Mario standing off to the side, a wide-eyed expression of surprise on his face. They had apparently stopped battling upon realizing the new development.
"I have understanding!" Fawful summoned his headgear once again, examining the broken vessel. "When her soul had the escaping, Cackletta needed to find someone to host her spirit. So... her power has poured into the prince of beans! The body is of the Peasley..." He smiled, turning to the prince. "But their mind is all of the Great Cackletta! Much excellency with your clever thinkings!"
Luigi’s blood ran icy. He heard Mario gasp somewhere behind him.
Fawful, meanwhile, laughed loud as ever. Peasley- no, Cackletta did the same. The prince-turned-puppet cackled, their body contorting unnaturally as they settled into their new figure — nothing but a marionette without strings.
“Well. I do have to give credit to myself. This body isn't entirely reprehensible. These younger sproutlings always did have better joints…”
They cracked their body this way and that, Cackletta’s voice spilling out from Peasley’s throat, much to the brothers' chagrin. Then, to test themselves out, they lifted an arm and unfurled their fingers, which were now clawed at the tips. A crack of lightning separated Luigi from Peasley, flinging the younger brother back toward Mario.
"Weegie!" Mario landed at Luigi's side, helping him up.
Luigi, however, seethed. He looked up at the giggling duo of villains, glowering, outrage at the whole situation making his breathing all the heavier. Piloting the prince like a puppet wasn’t something he approved of. He stood up, faltering slightly as he realized Peasley was now a few inches taller. Still not taller than him, but noticeably grown. He winced; that sudden bit of growing pain had to hurt.
“Get out of m-my… f-friend!” He struggled with the word. "You have no right t-to... to steal someone's body like that!"
“Eugh." The witch’s vessel groaned, making a very uncharacteristic face for the prince. Luigi flinched. “I should be chastising you lot. You interrupted us while we were so close to making you and your foolish endeavors history! This kingdom could have already been mine! Now, we'll have to do things the hard way."
“W-we... we defeated you!" Luigi struggled to maintain his ground. "And we'll do it again!"
They ignored him, rolling their eyes.
Instead, they leaned down in one fluid motion and retrieved Peasley's sword from the ground. The witch pressed their claws into the blade. The sword’s blade, normally a neon green, turned bright pink in Cackletta’s control. It matched their roving, bloodshot eyes. They tapped it, giggling.
“Looks like this prince’s got more than just his looks to flaunt…”
"Our plans are not foiled, then!" Fawful clapped his hands, buzzing in circles eagerly. “This is giving me much excitement, Lady— Prince— Cackle—” His eyes spun, and he stopped himself. “What shall I have the calling of you?”
“Hmm… you’re right, Fawful. I’m not quite myself, am I?” For a moment, their voices slid together so they were equally prince and witch. “Oohh, you are right. Whatever shall I be called now?”
They grinned wickedly.
"How about..." They stepped forward, looming ahead of Luigi and Mario. "The Great… Peasletta!”
The mish-mashing of the two names made Luigi’s insides twist. He tried, through little, stammering words, to reject the narrative already set into motion. “N-no!"
"What is it now?" Peasletta glared. "Can't I do anything to make you happy, plumber?"
"Release the prince, t-t-this instant!” Luigi's throat wavered as he made the demand. "Or... or else!"
"Oh, my! Is the little plumber threatening me?" Peasletta cooed, leaning closer. "How noble. How very heroic..." they teased, barely able to contain their laughter.
Their magenta eyes narrowed, gripping tighter to their sword, thin claws pressed into the blade. They dragged their claws down its side, unleashing a screeching sound. Luigi winced.
“You know, I've got a better idea." Their mischievous, cat-like smile only grew. "You two are going to get out of my way, while I go get that Beanstar from the basement. And once I rule this kingdom… who knows?" They looked at Luigi. "I might just choose to spare you and your brother’s life!" They laughed. "That is, if I don’t decide I want the Mushroom Kingdom too! Eeeyah ha ha ha ha! I mean, you steal a princess’s voice, you can steal her whole kingdom too, right?”
Luigi felt a lump welling in his throat.
"We won't let you!" Mario spoke up for him, standing ahead of his brother. He balled his fists, furious at the insinuation of anything more befalling upon the Mushroom Kingdom. Hadn't Princess Peach been through enough already? "No matter what you-a throw at us, we'll fight back!"
"Eyhahahaa-! Ah, what a precious sentiment! Hah-haa…!" Peasletta laughed so hard they cried, wiping at their eyes and flicking their tears away toward the brothers. "Ohhh, noo, no, I don’t think so, boys."
The possessed prince began to circle the brothers.
“In fact... now that I’ve got this royal brat in my grasp, I posit you won’t even attempt to stop me. Nobody in this kingdom would ever want to lay a hand on their beloved, wittle, prince.” The witch teased, curling Peasley’s lips into a smug smirk. "Isn't that right?"
"Y-you're wrong!" Luigi cried. "W-we will... we'll stop—"
"Then, stop me," Peasletta snarled back, then smiled eerily. "Go on. Do your worst... greenie."
Luigi's heart panged. He tried to will a fist — to prove her wrong, to swing at her and knock her back, even the slightest inch. But, he couldn’t.
That was Peasley.
The Peasley he knew and—
"J-just... l-let... him... go!" was all Luigi could manage. He didn't think begging and groveling would do anything, but it was all he could think to do. "Please!"
Even Mario, who stood loyally at his side, seemed to be holding back, even if he did want to sock Cackletta in the face. Luigi thought back to Dragohoho, thinking that, in a way, he could just fight Peasletta and get Peasley back in a cinch! But, this time, it wasn’t a curse created BY Cackletta — this WAS Cackletta. Luigi steeled himself. He didn't know what would happen. If he vanquished a host for a spirit... then... wouldn't the host also—
"What? Don't want to fight?" Peasletta tutted, shaking their head. A few messy, unkempt strands of blonde hair framed their face, setting the cruel smile upon it. "Don't you want your precious prince back?"
"I..."
Peasletta laughed, finding delight in Luigi's despair. They laughed with their whole body, making the same motion Peasley did when he released one of his deeper, unregal laughs: one Luigi had only heard once or twice. Luigi couldn’t help but feel deep nausea watching it happen, seeing something so familiar yet so bastardized.
"That's what I thought."
The possessed prince walked away from the brothers.
"I need a body to wreak havoc on this kingdom, worm. And, now that I think about it, being royalty might make some things… easier.” Their toothy grin only grew, taking up most of Peasley’s round face. They turned away, more interested in discussing things with Fawful. “Ohohoo… once I snag the Beanstar, I’ll rule this pathetic kingdom at last! And with a throne already etched with my name! Eyhahaha!”
Luigi's face burned.
"No!"
Something in him bubbled over. He ran forward, not entirely sure what he'd do when he reached Peasletta. But his hands were fists, and tears were in his eyes, and he leaped forward, and—
Peasletta reacted faster. They threw their hand back instinctively, and their sword's blade came up right at Luigi's chest. He avoided the full length of the swing, narrowly, one of his overall straps caught in the crossfire. The stitching was cut clean-through. He fell back on his backside and reached instinctively for the strap, checking to see if it had pierced his skin.
Luigi looked up through misty, watery eyes to see Peasletta standing cooly above them. Their eyes, shaded behind Peasley's messy hair, glowed with contempt.
"Are you done now?"
"I... P-Peasley..." Luigi choked out. "P-please..."
“O Great Peasletta! Shall we have the collection of the fallen Beanstar now?”
“Ah! Indeed.”
The possessed prince walked right past Luigi as though he weren’t there. The prince’s cape flowed behind them, smacking Luigi when he tried to turn and follow.
Luigi looked back at Mario, wordlessly mouthing for him to do something.
Mario nodded, quickly jumping at Peasletta and Fawful, but the duo came prepared for a fight this time. Fawful's headgear spat a ball of energy at Mario's chest, scorching his shirt and sending him flying back to join his brother. Luigi, despite his grief, caught him quick, holding him up. Mario could handle the brunt of most attacks, but he didn't want to be reckless with their supplies dwindling and an unfamiliar situation thrust in their laps. He held off on going at them again. He scowled instead, hoping to get his message across.
"Is that all? Hmm. Boo. You two are no fun," Peasletta said, before starting back toward the door leading to the Hooniversity's basement. "Fawful, why don't you prep—"
With acute precision, a blur of turquoise and white shot down from the ceiling.
Luigi instantly recognized the creature as Peasley's trusted steed: the very mount that had followed Peasley around since they'd freed him of the Dragohoho curse. It came down upon Peasletta's head, batting her wings against their face, making the witch's high-pitched, nasally voice cry out in alarm.
"What are you— g-get off, you little maggot!" Peasletta screeched. They shrieked as the fluttering wings managed to get their hair tangled up. "O-off— you little— ah!"
Luigi watched in amazement, a small smile playing at his lips.
Even though it was disconcerting to see Peasley be attacked by his own loyal steed, it was nice seeing the witch experience a bit of agitation. They struggled, trying to throw the winged creature off their face. Fawful tried to assist too, but there were too many feathers being flung about and wings rapidly batted to make sense of anything.
It wasn't long, however, before Peasletta managed to best the wild creature. They growled, holding up the steed by one of her wings while the other fluttered uselessly.
Even if he'd only known of her existence for a few days, he knew Peasley — the real Peasley — wouldn't want this. Luigi stood up, holding up a hand. "Wait! S-stop!"
Peasletta, hair a mess, looked back at Luigi with wild, unhinged eyes. Saliva and sweat trickled down their chin, breathing heavily. Luigi shrank back.
"I've had about ENOUGH of these distractions. This has gone on far enough. You are all standing between me," they snarled, "and my conquest of this kingdom. M-my kingdom. You all are stopping me from obtaining my greatest desires!" They released a laugh. "Well, no more!"
They pulled harder on the steed's wing, threatening to tug it straight out of the little, panicking creature's body. She released a pained chirp, trying to escape the death-grip Peasletta had on her.
"N-no! Peasley, don't!"
"We'll see just how much of a nuisance you are once I pluck your little— h-huh?"
Their hand went slack. Their concentration seemingly broke without warning, grip loosening on the wing, allowing the steed to escape and fly away toward the brothers. She landed full force into Luigi's arms, chirping and quivering slightly.
Her fear was nothing in comparison to Peasletta's though, who looked down at their left hand like it was rotting off. They gripped their wrist, breathing heavily, eyes back to being pinpricks — this time, out of terror. Sweat beaded down their face, voice wavering. They suddenly doubled over, groaning in pain and wincing.
"G-great Peasletta?" Fawful asked timidly. "Are—"
"H-how...!" Peasletta cried out in a whisper, swallowing hard. Their voice was suddenly softer. Their nails pressed hard enough into their trembling wrist that they drew blood, leaving claw marks behind.
And then, as quick as it'd come, the sensation was gone. Peasletta released a gasp, one they hadn't even realized they'd been holding. Alarmed, they spoke quickly.
“Eehhugh… oh, Fawful? What was that?”
“I-I am not knowing!” Fawful looked about just as freaked as the witch.
Mario and Luigi shared a similarly concerned look. Luigi wanted to do something while they were distracted, but after such a close call with Peasley's steed... he didn't want to take any more chances. Instead, he eyed Mario, nudging him toward the basement door. If they got to the Beanstar first, then they'd have one less thing to worry about.
“...though," Fawful suddenly continued, "it might be doing with your possessing of the princeling. You did it while he was conscious, right? S-so…” Fawful looked anxious, as though the wrong word might set them off. “That might be presenting… undesirable effects.”
Peasletta’s left eye twitched.
"Ah. Is that so?"
They inhaled, holding their hands together.
"Well." They mimicked one of Peasley's actions, running their hands through their messy hair to smooth it down. "If that's the case, and the dear little prince wants to fight back, then I'd be more than happy to put him in his place..."
The witch squealed, a devilish idea coming to mind. A toothy grin enveloped their face.
"If he wants to invade my space, then why don't I take a little tour of his mind as well? I'm sure he's got nothing to hide, right?" they said casually to Fawful, who nodded eagerly. "Mm-hmm..."
They thought for a moment, and soon, like a lightbulb had gone off behind their eyes, they sauntered away from the basement door. Luigi and Mario froze in their careful inching toward the very same door, thinking their plan had been figured out already, but it didn't seem the case.
Instead, Peasletta calmly headed back toward the main entrance, away from the atrium. Mario and Luigi hung back, keeping a cautious distance.
"O Great Peasletta... w-where are you going? Shouldn't we have the collection the Beanstar?"
"Oh, Fawful, you simpleton." Peasletta shook their head, sighing. "We'll be able to get that Beanstar back no matter what. So long as I have this body, and a little bit of magic,"—they snapped their fingers, producing a lightning strike at their side—"they'll have no choice but to hand it over as soon as I ask."
"But, is our plan not being—"
"Patience. The prince's brain just revealed to me a delicious little morsel of information, and I intend to act upon it while we still can."
The possessed prince looked back at the brothers, as though they were in on the secret as well. They then smiled coyly, waving at the confused brothers.
"Ta-ta, superstars! This isn't over. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again... very soon."
With a final cackle, they flourished their cape, summoning Fawful to their side with a snap of their fingers. And, with no further fanfare, they left Woohoo Hooniversity undramatically: quiet, subdued, uncannily. Somehow, the echoing silence made everything so much worse.
Luigi and Mario lingered behind. Peasley's steed, nestled safely in Luigi's arms, squirmed slightly. "W-what do we do now?"
Mario sighed.
"I guess... what we always do! We keep going," he said, fixing his hat and opening their suitcase. He pulled out a mushroom for he and Luigi both. He broke off a chunk for the winged critter in Luigi's arms as well. "Let's go and get the Beanstar. Then, we can go back to Queen Bean, let her know what's-a happened. Someone ought to know about this... possessy stuff."
Luigi nodded solemnly, nibbling on the mushroom. Not even its healing effects could make him feel better about any of this. He fidgeted, running his hands over the smooth back of the winged creature in his hands. She purred.
"Here, lemme give you a boost."
They hopped up onto a platform together.
"Hopefully, we'll be able to figure something out." Mario passed Luigi, checking the next area for any traps. After losing Luigi earlier in the Hooniveristy, he wasn't going to take any chances.
Luigi nodded. "Mm..."
"Hey."
Mario stopped, holding his little brother at arm's length. He looked up at him, trying to give off the most genuine expression he could muster. He knew about Luigi's crush; Luigi had "accidentally" confessed about it a few minutes after they'd climbed down Hoohoo Mountain. He knew his brother must be feeling a lot of complicated things, and that was no fault by him. Having a person you crushed on be possessed by an evil entity was... never comforting.
"She can't keep him forever, ya'know?" Mario said, patting Luigi on the shoulder. He could sense his brother's gloom from a mile away. "We'll get him back, and he'll be a-okay. That prince is tough, he'll stick it out." He nudged his brother in the shoulder, linking his pinky with Luigi's. "Promise."
"Y-you think so?"
"I know so." Mario smiled.
He reached out, checking the spot where Peasletta had slashed Luigi's overall strap.
"They didn't get you, did they?"
"Nuh-uh. I just need to patch it up..."
Luigi held his arm, fingers running over the busted stitch.
He wasn't able to get the imagery of the last encounter out of his head. Their manic, wild eyes, the way their voice cracked, the way he could see, hear, and know Peasley was still there, still living and breathing, knowing he was trapped inside his own body, knowing Peasley was still conscious in there, knowing—
Luigi stopped. "Hey, M-Mario?"
"Yeah, Weeg?"
"I..."
He wanted to say a thousand things, but the pain of remembering anything at all stung far more. He decided to hold onto the thoughts — bottle them up for another time and place.
"N-nevermind. Let's go get the star."
Mario nodded, leading the way.