🧿 Idling Hour

eggonalegg: https://youtu.be/8FJ8pTK8N8I?si=zG8p1TmHoFYvQtT4

DekkowAnims: https://youtu.be/CYrQr0auPDM?si=B-VARK1cfLbSRfYg

Massive claws tap tiny dents into his throne, polished to a positively diabolical shine.

The fire behind the throne is forever swimming with the spark of pyrotechnics, the fire flicking ember sprites and ashes. The bleach-white bones lace elegant spikes on a pretty-pink throne beside his, gleaming tantalizingly in the shifting hellfire. And the rock-and-rolling King of the Koopas is acting unlike himself.

Princess Peach has evaded him. Yet again.

He snuffs at ash specks, sending them flying. The King lapses into pondering. The tense silence is pulling like an invisible needle through a wound as it stretches across the throne room, unnerving the two Koopa guards stationed firmly in front of the massive, arching doors. See how they exchange nervous glances? This is unusual. Unpredictable. The Koopa King should have gone through his battle-beaten cycle by now, like a conqueror’s version of the stages of grief: raging, crashing down piano keys, or-at his quietest-sulking somewhere in his private chambers. Soon after, the wizardly Kamek should be called, swirling his staff and magicking the doors open to help along Bowser’s new, foolproof plan to claim the Mushroom Kingdom, steal its beloved princess, and throttle the Mario Brothers. The Koopa King’s energy is unflagging, all things considered.

One guard glances and gets a full glimpse of Bowser: his irises burn bright enough to sear. The guard looks away unnoticed, thanking his lucky stars, and resumes playing statue. He’s not going to be the one dolt who triggers the bomb and gets flambeed.

A slow, string-thin creak of the door-the Koopa guards flinch, and move to glower at whoever’s waiting outside. Once they recognize who’s at the door, however, they shuffle quickly to stand back. The doors swing open with a magical puff of air.

There stands the right-hand sorcerer-a golden Koopa peeking with his big glass spectacles and blue hat and robe, clasping the rose-gem staff: the one-and-only Kamek betrays his nerves with a sweaty smile. It seems survival instincts are pulling everyone tight tonight, which is wise considering Bowser’s newest plan to conquer had hinged on a stolen mcguffin called the Orb, supposedly indestructible once it’s been activated and indispensable in Bowser’s scaly hands—doubling as both a blinding shield around the Koopa Kingdom, keeping away any unwanted meddlers, (from the Toad army to Donkey Kong), and as a teleporter, made for four tries—ready to target and teleport whoever the owner thinks of to practically wherever they want: the annoying Yoshi to the dungeons, the Mario Brothers to the magma, and Princess Peach into his arms. In usual fashion, there’d been an extra twist that shattered the whole plan and unleashed an alarming attack from the enemy, one they barely fended off. Kamek’s extra piece of news is not exactly going to smooth over his leader’s ire. Briefly, he envisions his trusty broom, of zipping away on air-but he is the Koopa Kingdom’s star sorcerer: he’s not going to shirk his duty, abandon his golden position, not after years of navigating Bowser’s wrathful displays (And anyway Bowser would probably find him if he tried a get-away now).

“Hello, sire.” says Kamek.

Bowser is silent.

The Koopa guard’s feet shuffle as the doors are dutifully creaked closed, sealing him in. Clearing his throat, Kamek makes his way to the throne.

“Your majesty,” Kamek bows his head, before straightening, measuring his words. “I have…unfortunate news.”

Bowser hasn’t moved an inch. His eyes only intensify with red-hot light.

Kamek bows his head low, his eyes pleading mercy even through opaque spectacles, “...The orb has broken. We’ve tried our best, but the cracks are beyond repair.” Kamek pauses as he waits on a hair trigger.

Bowser sucks in through his teeth. Stretching his neck, he turns to stare sullenly at the nothing off to his side.

Relieved, Kamek continues with renewed confidence, “However, the troops are recouping and ready to go, and the ballgown has been salvaged, not a tear on it, perfect for further use. The-”

“Did I send for you?” Bowser’s voice is unperturbed, cool.

“W-what?” Kamek’s voice wavers. Confused, he looks at Bowser. “No, sire-.”

Kamek cries out and leaps up, up out of the way as the fire ball blasts by his head, crashing into the ground leaving scattered wisps.

“Then why are you here?” bellows Bowser, standing from his seat. His echoes swallow the room in suffocating humidity.

Kamek yelps, backing up, bowing fast every step, “Yes sire, of course sire,” His nervous chuckles dribble off the edge of panic-quickly, he waves his staff and one of the massive double-doors pulls open to let him back out, Koopa guards left standing unsurely on the way to do it for him, deprived of their job; his smile stretches as he grips the door like a lifeline. “I’ll be out here if you need me.” he adds, before ducking out. Another shimmer of magic and Kamek has slammed the door closed.

“And you two!” the Koopa guards jump as Bowser approaches, rumbles jerking the ground with every stomp, “Get out!”

Nodding like bobble heads, they desperately wrench open the door with incoherent rambles of “Yes, majesty!” The door shuts for good.

Bowser stands, breathing heavily.

“Finally. Alone.” He turns back, stalking to his throne. He sits, slumping: more grumpy child than ferocious ruler.

A minute passes. Bowser glances at the perfect pink throne, still there and still empty beside him, and tries to summon anger. He comes up empty, feeling hollow. Deflating, he slowly exhales through his nostrils: black smoke and disappointment.

Doesn’t she hate you? asked the Koopa Troopa.

I’d never marry a monster like you, said Princess Peach, smiling and defiant as her golden hair whipped in wind.

Look, Bowser, isn’t this getting old? sighed the Toad.

Hot pain throbbed his vision as he looked up through the Toad army’s cheers rising, the Princess and the Plumbers glaring from astride the green Yoshi.

No, it isn’t. Bowser shakes himself off from his darkest melancholy, flings it somewhere deep down where he can’t even look at this uncomfortable new scar and straightens.

He’ll get her back-the Kingdom, the victory, all of it. His Happily Ever After. It’s only a matter of time.

He just needs a new plan.

Some concept sketches of Chiaroscuro, based off of the illustrations from the book The Tale of Despereaux