RC #1427: The Realm of Manx and Shadow

PPC Interlude: Aftermath

A/N: The PPC is not mine, but Manx and Shadow are.

 

That is all.

(This is set after the 2008 Mary Sue Invasion, btw.) 

 

PPC Interlude: Aftermath

 

     “Careful…be careful…you idiot, gods know what you’ve been doing prancing around on that leg…”

 

     “OW! Shitshitshitshitshit! Damnit!”

 

     “There! See? Told you. Now, we are going to Medical again and you are going to stay there until your leg stops looking like a train ran over it. Gods, what were you thinking, attacking a farking indestructible centaur?!”

 

     Manx winced, glaring at her partner and blinking blood out of her eyes. The blood was oozing from a cut over her eyebrow. “I didn’t know it was indestructible, okay? Jill only told me after I ran at it with a battleaxe. Agh!” She clutched at her leg, then steadied herself against a wall. “Anyway, it’s dead now, and I’m alive, right? And not really mortally injured or anything, right?”

 

     Technically dead,” Shadow snapped, as they continued on their way. “It’s supposed to be immortal, and the guys over in Mary-Sue Experiments or whatever are keeping bits of it in jars, so it’s gonna end up coming to life – well, functionality – again sometime because of radiation or whatever. But jeez, when I found you, you looked pretty goddamn mortally injured to me.”

 

     “It was not! Just a freaking flesh wound! Ow, ow, ow!

 

     “Five-inch-wide holes through the stomach are not usually considered ‘flesh wounds’. Neither are almost-amputations of hands or bones sticking out of your legs. Or arrows in the shoulder, or knives in your ribs, or gods know what else –”

 

     “I was fine! All I needed at Medical was bandages and Bleepka! Owshit!

 

     “No, you were most definitely not fine enough to go prancing around looking for the last Sues to kill! That is the job of the people who haven’t lost pints of blood or have huge gaping wounds!”

 

     “They weren’t gaping,” Manx complained. “Open-air at most. OW!” she screamed suddenly, for she had bumped a nasty bruise on her knee. She glowered at Shadow. “Why didn’t you heal this thing when you found me?”

 

     “I was more concerned with the freaking open-air wound through your stomach,” the Asian agent replied sarcastically. “And besides, I didn’t have any more Heal-All Athelas, and that DEM jewelry I nicked off of a Sue wasn’t working anymore.” Shadow rubbed her forehead. “Jeez, we should seriously get you a private straitjacket room in FicPsych sometime soon. Attacking fourteen incredibly overpowered Sues with only a rubber band and two sporks is not a good idea. I’m amazed you’re still alive. Bloody idiot,” she muttered. “Oh, look, we’re here!”

 

     Shadow pointed to the door of the Medical Department. Green-armbanded nurses and injured agents were still passing in and out of the infirmary, though much less than there had been a day or so ago. Sparkling Sue blood, remnants of the invasion, splattered the walls, while other remains were scattered through the hallways: throwing knives stuck in gray walls, swords jammed into bodies hung on the barricades, puckered scorch marks several feet wide covering wide sections of HQ, and carcasses of both agents and Sues lying where they had fallen. The agents’ bodies had been dragged away for burial, though many were still there.

 

     The shorter agent leaning on Shadow’s shoulder, they made their limping way into Medical, Manx still complaining.

 

     “You’re one bloody hypocrite,” Manx said loudly, trying to make herself heard over the clamor within the room. “You’re also running around with a freaking dagger wound in your leg.” She glanced down pointedly at the bloodied bandage wrapped around Shadow’s thigh.

 

     “That’s different. I’m running around in pain trying to save my idiotic partner from getting killed –” Shadow tapped a Twi’lek nurse on the back. “Excuse me, but were you looking for a certain stupid, worthless carcass named Manx?”

 

     “Hey!” Manx shouted indignantly, but Shadow paid no attention.

 

     The nurse turned around. “Oh, so you’ve found her, then. We were worried when she ran out screaming something like ‘Death to the Sues’. Well, what’s she been up to?”

 

     “Attacked fourteen awful Sues from at least four different continuums. They were survivors of the invasion – and there was a bloody reason they were survivors. Three agents had already gotten completely pwned.” Shadow pronounced the gaming term “pawned”. She slid Manx’s arm off her shoulder, letting the nurse take her protesting partner to a nearby cot. “My idiot partner here decided to run at them screaming at the top of her lungs and waving two sporks and a rubber band.”

 

     The nurse raised her eyebrows. “And she’s still alive?”

 

     “I thought she wasn’t once I caught up with her. She was getting completely worked over by the last of them when I managed to kill the Sue. Do you know how hard it is to destroy a Sue who can turn invisible?”

 

     “Afraid not,” the nurse said absentmindedly, prodding Manx’s broken leg, still under a dirty splint. The agent let out a scream. “Serves you right, missy,” the nurse snapped. “What in all the multiverses were you thinking?”

 

     “Nothing, apparently,” Shadow replied, glaring at her partner. “She had a freaking huge hole through her stomach and her hand almost got sliced off. Couldn’t you leave the killing to other people?” This last question was directed to her partner, who was currently wincing as another nurse stitched up the gash on her head.

 

     “Nope,” Manx replied. “I’m an Assassin. Won’t shirk the Duty. OW!” She followed this with a string of curses in several different languages.

 

     “Well…I guess I’ll leave you here,” Shadow said. “Take care of her, okay?” she asked the nurses. “I don’t want to have to get a replacement partner.”

 

     What?! SHADOW, DON’T LEAVE ME HERE!”

 

     “Oh, be quiet,” Shadow muttered. “You made me slog through Headquarters with a sliced-up leg for two hours chasing after you to get you to stop being psycho. I am not letting you out after that.”

 

     “But…please, don’t leave me here! I don’t wanna stay!” Manx gave Shadow Bambi Eyes™. Well, what she thought were Bambi Eyes. They looked more like the eyes of Bambi’s evil twin.

 

     “Oh, well. Shit happens,” Shadow replied wearily. “Now, you are going to get your ‘open-air’ wounds healed, you are getting your bones back on the inside of your body, and when you have enough sanity not to chase after psychotic Sues when your leg is broken, you can come back to our Response Center. Capiche?”

 

     “You do like saying that, don’t you?” Manx asked.

 

     “Yes. I do. Now stay here, don’t run off, because I am going to find you and throttle you if you do.”

 

     And Shadow walked away.