Hope everyone's having a good 4th of July weekend (I know that's a bit late). There are some references to two voice actors in this chapter, as well as a character who's a homage to a Legendary Warrior from Digimon Frontiers (yes, I'm rewatching that series for the fourth/fifth time). Anyway, can you find them?
Also, starting this chapter, this fic is officially rated M for language and later...scenes.
I don't own Wreck-It Ralph! The only characters I own are my OC's.
Chapter 25
"There's gotta be at least a thousand of these files in here," Aika complained as she sorted through a large box of files with Mary in the corner of Surge's office, whose floor was cluttered with manilla folders of the characters from unplugged games. The two women, Tails, Surge, Deanna, and Dyne had started right away after entering the arcade guardian's office, yet Surge had failed to explain how many files they had to go through. The group had been sifting through files for what felt like an eternity. "I thought this would be a piece of cake."
"Stop complaining, Aika." Dyne shot the female pirate a hard look. He was helping Surge scan their second batch of files, hoping to find a match on one of the manilla folders after having no luck on the first set.
"Dyne, come on," Aika groaned. "I want to do something a bit more productive and helpful, like fighting and saving this arcade."
"And get killed?" the former Blue Rogue leader retorted.
"He has a point, Miss Aika," Surge agreed, taking another file and examining it. It had Japanese characters like the panel in the main code room, but when Surge looked closely at it, they didn't exactly match the panel's symbols.
"Another flop?" Tails asked, looking through another set on the couch with Deanna. They were not having much luck, either.
"Sadly, no, Miles." Surge grabbed the next file, but skimmed over it after noticing that it was a character named Sonia from Spirits of Darkness, which he knew wasn't a Japanese import. "Anyone else?" The hologram and Dyne regarded the fox, the Nicelanders, and Aika, who all shook their heads.
"It's like finding a needle in a haystack here," said Dyne, taking a pile of files from Surge's set and skimming through them. It was abundant with characters whose names were definitely unfamiliar to the former Blue Rogue, especially some that he couldn't pronounce, like Svetlana from a game called Rose Bombers and Lucrezia from a game whose title was in complete Italian. That alone gave Dyne a headache even making an attempt to pronounce.
These names make ours look like kindergarten names. The airman sighed, running a hand through his hair like his son did sometimes upon dealing with a stressful situation. This is getting harder than I thought, Vyse. Moving the first handful of files aside, Dyne continued to scan the other ones he had...until one caught his eye.
Maybe it just got better. Pulling the one file out of his pile and setting the latter back down on Surge's desk, Dyne examined the chosen file, namely the Japanese characters it bore on its tab. They looked exactly like the characters embroidered on the panel. Upon further scrutiny, the former Blue Rogue leader noticed that they were the exact same characters on the black panels in the code room.
Surge noticed this between the last file and the next one he was moving to as he regarded Dyne. With a raised eyebrow, he asked, "Mr. Dyne? Is there something wrong?"
Dyne regarded him gravely. "Nothing's wrong." He held out the file to the hologram. "I want you to try this file."
Taking the file, the arcade guardian examined it for a few long seconds, then ran it through the scanner attached to his holographic computer. The scanner hummed as it ran its green light across the manilla folder, taking around ten seconds to start to process as Surge and Dyne faced the computer screen, which read "Processing..."
"This has to be a match," Dyne said, certain that he found what they were looking for. "That file has the same symbols as the panel."
"I've noticed that, Mr. Dyne." Surge gestured to the file. "All we need to know is who it belongs to. I may be the authority of the arcade, but it doesn't mean I'm multilingual. Especially when that Italian game was in the arcade in 1986, where I didn't quite understand anyone. To be frank, I didn't know what they were saying. Mrs. Lucrezia was the only exception, because she was programmed to be bilingual."
"Are some of them still around?" Dyne asked, curious.
"Yes, but they're more than likely living in alleys or other games," responded Surge. "However, most of them died with their games due to a virus or faulty upgrade."
Suddenly, a ping was heard, as Surge directed his attention back to the screen, where information from the file began to generate on-screen.
"It seems we have a match," the hologram announced, but when he read the descriptions and information regarding the character, his triumph turned to fear. "Not her..."
Dyne looked over Surge's shoulder, catching sight of the result of the scan. "Who's that?"
He was staring at a woman with large wings, long blonde hair, and a voluptuous figure hugged by her V-neck evening dress. She reminded him of Rouge the Bat from Sonic the Hedgehog.
"What was that 'ping' sound?" Aika wondered as she, Tails, and the Nicelanders bounded over to Surge's desk, where Dyne and Surge were focused on the computer.
"We found a match," Dyne responded when the four surrounded the two men.
"Well, that's good," Mary said, grasping her chest and taking deep breaths. "Sweet mercy, that computer nearly gave me a heart attack. She, Deanna, Tails, and Aika bunched in behind them to take a glance at Dyne and Surge's findings.
"Whoa." Aika pushed her way through the crowd for a closer look at the woman on the arcade guardian's screen. "Who's the slut? Or at least the woman who's dressed like one? Those have got to be at least double D's."
"We know her," Mary said, but unlike Surge's reaction, possessed slight distaste in her tone. Deanna nodded in agreement, a scowl on her face at the sight of the woman.
"Me too," Tails followed. "She's from that 1986 game Red Moon Racing. Her name was... Takuya? Takemi?"
"Takeru Nightrose," Surge corrected Tails, dislike in the hologram's voice as he stared at the bat woman's profile.
...
"Hey, she's waking up." Wynnchel's voice was faintly heard.
"Wynnchel...?" Adorabeezle mumbled as her eyes slowly fluttered open to make out colorful, though pale, blurs in her vision.
"Adorabeezle!" Crumbs' voice was heard next, though still a little fuzzy. The popsicle racer was trying to make out where she was. Was she still at the cul-de-sac having fallen asleep in the middle of the twins' conversation? "Am I dead?"
"You're not, trust me," the posh racer responded. "But we're somewhere. Somewhere you may not like."
Adorabeezle's vision slowly cleared as she was regaining consciousness. She noticed Crumbelina staring down at her, concern written all over the petite racer's face. Upon noticing the pale, colorless ceiling behind Crumbs, the popsicle racer's eyes snapped open. She realized where she was now and didn't like it one bit.
"Don't tell me we're..." Adorabeezle then gradually sat up, taking longer with her body feeling like hundred-ton weights.
"I'm afraid so," Crumbs shrugged in disappointment. "We're in the last place we want to be."
"Sure beats being dead," Gloyd said, rubbing his head as he was the first to recover to a sitting position, with Jubileena and Citrusella supporting themselves against the wall as they attempted to actually stand.
"What in the world happened to us?" Jubileena wondered, stumbling to the hard floor. "Why is my equilibrium off all of a sudden? True, I'm clumsy, but this is ridiculous."
"I'll give you two guesses on that, sis," Citrusella quipped as she, unlike her twin, successfully made it to her feet. She headed over to Crumbs, the two pastries, Bill, and Adorabeezle, stumbling a few times on the way. "And why is walking turning into a bitch?"
"Maybe the same reason that is happening to our game," answered the popsicle racer, her attention on their barred window. "Look out the window!"
"What?" Wynnchel, along with Duncan and Bill, followed Adorabeezle's lead and turned around to glance through the bars. "No way!" the eclair gasped.
"'No way?'" Crumbs repeated as she joined them near the window, with Citrusella following.
"What's up?" Gloyd crawled over to the group huddled around the window, but was unable to see past the crowded bodies.
"I wanna see, too!" Jubileena followed suit, coughing a little as she tried to crane her head to get a good look at what was happening outside. However, like Gloyd, she had no luck.
"This is crazy," Citrusella pointed out as she moved her head forward to better her view through the window.
The group was staring at a ravaged, dead Sugar Rush. It was no longer the bright, optimistic game everyone recognized. This one was now an unknown place, its once-sunlit sky now a drab gray. The candy cane trees that stood stalwart in the game were now trees one would expect in Luigi's Mansion, the taffy swamps were ponds of what appeared to be some sort of black substance, and the Diet Cola Mountain looked like it had been eaten through by rodents, resembling Swiss cheese. Overall, the game's landscapes and features were a far cry from what they once had been.
"This is horrible!" Crumbs tore her gaze away from the colorless, drab sight that used to be Sugar Rush. The posh racer couldn't stand to look at their destroyed, infected home for another second.
"'Horrible' is an understatement," Citrusella said. "It's completely destroyed." She felt anger rise in her chest just staring at the dark wasteland of their game.
"You can only blame one person for all of this." The petite racer abandoned the window, facing a confused Gloyd and Jubileena.
"What's horrible?" the pumpkin racer inquired, hurrying for his turn to glance out of the window, when he saw what Adorabeezle, Crumbs, and the others saw, he turned back to the group, a horrified expression on his face.
Jubileena crawled over to the window to get a look as well, then gasped. "Our home..." Tears started to flow in her eyes as she turned away from the dark view outside. "What or who could've done this?"
"I can tell you that it's a 'who' and a 'what,'" Duncan interjected.
"The 'what ' apparently being a virus," Wynnchel added. "And when there's a virus in our game, there's only one person who can do such dirt."
Adorabeezle, Gloyd, Jubileena, and Citrusella took a few moments to think about who the eclair was talking about, until Gloyd's eyes widened with realization at the "who" Wynnchel was referring to.
"It can't be..." the pumpkin racer gasped in disbelief. "You guys are fucking with us, right?" He chuckled lightly at Crumbs, Bill, and the officers.
"I'm afraid not." Bill shook his head.
"King Candy can't be back!" Adorabeezle protested, trying to support her heavy limping hat. "He just can't. Not after what he went through a few months ago. There's gotta be some other explanation for this!"
"This virus, our imprisonment, and how his panel's back in our code room all say you're wrong," countered Crumbs. "And we're still wondering how his panel was revived."
Gloyd shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine on that one." He glanced around the cell. "Anyway, how are we gonna get outta here?"
"Another excellent question," Citrusella replied.
"I sthee that everyone'sth awake now." King Candy's voice rang through the hallway. "After about four hoursth."
"Now what does he want?" Crumbs rolled her eyes as she and the others turned to notice the ex-monarch stop once again before their cell.
"I don't get a 'hello?'" Candy pretended to be insulted at that remark.
"I don't recall you ever deserving one, Bulb Head," Citrusella retorted in a snarky tone. "Especially when fucking with our game is high on your list right now."
"What do you want with us, King Pain-In-The-Butt?" Jubileena demanded. "Can't you see we're enjoying this lovely cell?" Sarcasm dripped from her tone.
"Oh, I'm sthorry." Mock sympathy dominated Candy's voice. "I didn't mean to intrude. I justh figured you'd like to hear sthome great newsth."
"News. I never guessed you'd have something good to share with us." Gloyd continued the sarcastic streak. I bet it's his announcement of treating Vanellope like shit again, or treat the arcade like it. Yeah, as if either will happen.
"What is this 'great news you'd so like to share with us?" Adorabeezle inquired. "'Cause we'd all like to know." Not.
"I'm stho glad you asked, hoo hoo hoo." King Candy smiled, a tiny hint of venom in his voice as he continued. "And I'm sthure you'll like what I have planned for you all."
"I'm trying to figure out what could be worse than locking us up and leaving us to rot under your virus," said Crumbs, rolling her eyes.
"You'll be working for me, of course," King Candy finally announced, causing eight pairs of eyes to narrow in disapproval and anger. "Thisth casthle sthure could usthe a little touch-up, don't you think? Thisth entire kingdom, asth a matter of fact, needsth it."
Citrusella was the first to object. "You must be out of your fucking mind if you think we're working for you. Hell, I'd rather spend the rest of my days in here than paint your castle salmon or whatever it is you call it."
"According to Vanellope," Jubileena piped up, "it's been pink. And it's staying that way."
"I sure as hell refuse to be your little guard dogs again," Duncan agreed. "If I weren't in here right now, I'd show you a thing or two."
King Candy laughed at the protests he received, which both confused and annoyed the prisoners.
"What's so funny?" Gloyd demanded, green eyes skewering into Candy's as the pumpkin racer wondered what amused the former tyrant.
"It'sth justh that I knew you'd refusthe," Candy replied as he sobered up, face regaining its serious state. Which isth too bad because it meansth you want the other option... which is a bath in the Diet Cola Hot Springsth."
Jubileena raised an eyebrow. "Is that crown on too tight? We'll regenerate."
"I forgot to mention: You don't regenerate." Candy rebutted.
"What? What are you talking about?" The cherry racer was confused at what Candy was trying to say.
"You heard me," Candy smirked. "Hoo hoo hoo, and this is the best part about thisth virusth, too."
"What's the best part?" Gloyd demanded, anger nearly reaching its peak. He was at the end of his rope with the former tyrant's sick games.
"Thisth virusth erasthesth all of the game'sth recognition of itsth charactersth," Candy explained. "All of your data, racing statusth, everything. It isth all destroyed, hoo hoo hoo. Therefore, I sthuggesth that you rethink your decthision."
"You're...joking..." Crumbs protested, refusing to believe anything the ex-monarch had just said. Sugar Rush? Forgetting its characters? The posh racer couldn't help but wonder how cruel the psychotic racer could become, not to mention how much pain the ex-tyrant was making the racers endure before they cracked under the pressure. Whatever the case, Crumbelina was not going to let Candy rattle her or her friends. She would stay strong.
"I don't joke, my little tiramisthu." Candy's voice took on a more humorous tone. "Okay, I joke a little, but not about thisth, so I'd make the smart decisthion if I were you." The former king laughed again, this time more maniacally.
The racers, Bill, and the pastry officers all looked at one another, trying to figure out what they wanted to do. They knew they had one of two options: either work for the sadistic tyrant before them, or meet a fiery and now-permanent death in the Diet Cola Hot Springs thanks to the "gift" Candy had installed in their game. Neither possibility sounded positive or favoring the group, but they had to come to a decision...and death was not quite at the top of their list.
Jubileena was the first to approach the bars. "What kind of 'work' do you want us to do?" she asked flatly, a hard gaze on the most hated character in Sugar Rush. It took all of her willpower to resist tossing a cherry bomb in his face. Besides, considering her affliction, she doubted it would be effective.
"I sthee you made the right choice," King Candy sneered, fixing the cherry racer with a satisfied look. He knew he won, and it wouldn't be long before he won it all. The game, the arcade, everything would be all his, and his subjects would help him reach that goal.
"Yeah, King Jerkass," Gloyd agreed. "We value our lives, but trust me, you don't want to assume that this means you've won. Vanellope will come help us, and then you'll be fucked." And that's if she's not infected like us. The Halloween-themed racer thought about his president, and then Rancis. He knew that wherever Vanellope was, Rancis would find her, assuming that neither of them were affected. And Gloyd knew that was a slim possibility.
"Sthuch vulgar language." Candy scowled at Gloyd. "I'll make sthure you get a special task." The tyrant regarded the others. "And the rest of you will have plenty to do for me, hoo hoo hoo."
"Yeah, we can hardly wait to get started," Citrusella retorted.
"Oh, you'll get started pretty soon," the former king assured them. "Yesth, I promisthe you that."
...
"Wake up, sleepyhead," a feminine, sweet-sounding voice cooed.
"My head..." Rancis groaned. "Vanellope?" The peanut butter cup young man slowly opened his eyes to find a black blur standing over him. As Rancis was fully coming to, the blur was gradually coming into focus.
"Wait, you're not Vanellope," he realized as he instead found himself face-to-face with a pale-faced, dark-haired woman. She had an average figure clad in a black, two-piece skin-tight outfit with a V-neck, belly-revealing top and tight-fitting pants that showed off her hips, which weren't as impressive in Rancis's opinion but could probably earn her a few stares. The woman's dark hair barely skimmed her shoulders, and her emerald, cat-like eyes studied Rancis with an all too-hungry look.
"'Vanellope?'" she repeated, her voice losing its sweet tone. "You must really have me confused with someone else, kid."
"Where am I?" Rancis glanced around, unfamiliar with his surroundings as he tried to get up but found out he couldn't. Instead, he was only able to raise his head a little, which allowed him to get enough of a glance at where he was. Rancis caught sight of graffiti decorating the walls, piles of trash, a few pieces of overturned furniture, and several dark corridors.
The last thing the peanut butter cup racer remembered was making it out of Sugar Rush with Snow to escape the infected Felix. He was also supposed to find Vanellope and warn her about the danger within the dessert racing game. However, that last part of the plan was dashed when he, for some reason, had blacked out. Now he was in God-knows-where with a pretty girl who wasn't the president of his game...along with a stench coming from beneath him.
"What in the hell...?" Rancis glanced down to find that he had been lying in a pile of garbage, consisting of newspapers, banana peels, and any other smelly item he could think of. It was unhygienic, as Ralph would say, which was only another reason for Rancis to get out of whatever dump he ended up in. The peanut butter cup racer again struggled to rise to his feet.
"And where do you think you're going in your condition?" the woman asked, pushing him back down and onto the trash-made bed. "You're not thinking of leaving this alley, are you?"
"That explains the smell and the graffiti," Rancis realized. "And what do you mean by 'my condition?'"
"So you're saying you didn't know you passed out in the middle of GCS?" the woman retorted, rolling her eyes. "Maybe I should've left you and your friend with the bad hair there, then. She, especially, is in way worse shape than you, you know?"
"What did happen to us, anyway?" That was when Rancis glanced down at himself to see that he was as pale as the woman before him. Looking further down, Rancis noticed his clothes were in tatters, the deep brown in his pants having faded into an almost-tan color. Holes dotted every area in them, as if he'd been caught in the Black Licorice Forest and its thorns.
"Here, take this." The woman pulled a round, pocket mirror from under her neckline and held it out to Rancis.
Taking the looking glass, the peanut butter cup could tell that he looked horrible in every sense of the word when he saw his face, which suffered from several discolored spots and was mostly ghostly white. His blond bangs hung limply over his forehead, while his hat felt like a pancake on top of his head, being completely flat. The peanut butter cup racer's blue eyes were robbed of all life, now appearing dead and muddy as if he lacked sleep. Rancis moved the mirror down to the rest of his clothes to see that they too were in tatters, his jacket fraught with holes just like his pants and were slumping off of his shoulders, losing their dark brown color. He was a far cry from the Rancis Fluggerbutter from a few hours ago.
"I didn't get touched by Fix-It, so why..." Rancis wondered, remembering that Snow had been the one who was infected by the Good Guy. He, on the other hand, hadn't had contact, at least not that he knew of. Remembering Snow, he regarded the woman again. "You said you found a girl with an afro, too, right?"
"Right," the woman responded, eyebrow raised as if thinking Rancis was stupid. "Agnes is taking care of her right now. Damn, you guys must've taken a serious beating out there."
"I wouldn't say a 'beating,'" Rancis glanced down at himself.
"Then what is it?" the brunette inquired, kneeling down to Rancis's level. "A virus, perhaps?"
Kinda too soon to be sure, Rancis thought. But there's a huge chance that it can be. I hope King Candy doesn't have anything to do with it. Chances are, though, he might...Dread filled the peanut butter cup racer's stomach. Which means he found a way to break out of the Fungeon.
"Hey, Mignogna. Why don't you help Wendee and I out with Rainbow Bitch back here instead of flirting with that pretty boy?"
"I'm not flirting, Agnes!" the brunette named Mignogna snapped as a blonde, buxom woman came out of one of the corridors, hands impatiently on her hips as her brown eyes skewered into the other woman's. Her waist-length blonde hair trailed behind her as she approached Mignogna.
Rancis was trying hard not to stare too long at Agnes' voluptuous figure, which consisted of size double-D breasts and large, wide hips. She was dressed in the same skin-tight black attire as the brunette, except the blonde's neckline plunged and revealed parts of her breasts. It left little to the imagination, Rancis gave her that, but he already had a crush on someone and needed to find that someone before Felix and even Candy caused any more danger to Sugar Rush.
"Yeah, whatever." Agnes waved off Mignogna's protest as she continued. "Anyway, the bitch back here is a handful and thinks she can get out of here. Wendee's trying to hold her down, but she just keeps fighting. We need you back here." Then her gaze fell on Rancis as she turned to head back to the corridor. "And you can take your new boyfriend with you, not that we can have any boyfriends, of course."
When Agnes disappeared back into the tunnel, Rancis swore he heard "Fucking viruses" echo from it.
"I don't get a 'welcome,' huh?" Rancis sighed.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm the youngest," Mignogna grumbled, then regarded Rancis. "And about welcomes, no. You don't get them here. No 'home sweet home', no 'welcome to the neighborhood,' no 'kiss my ass.' None of that happens here in a dirty ass gutter like this, especially when the one idol you look up to kicks us to the fucking curb like common Koopas and subjects us to this dump."
"'Idol?'" Rancis repeated, confused.
"Yeah, our 'mistress' Takeru." Mignogna enunciated the last two words with venom. "Anyway, that's over and done with. Let's see how your friend's doing." She started for the corridor, but turned to notice Rancis still struggling to get to his feet.
"Yeah, I can't move easily, remember?" The young man smiled cockily at her.
Rolling her eyes, the brunette held out her manicured, black finger-nailed hand. "Guess I'll have to carry you, huh?"
"Oh no, I can walk myself," Rancis insisted, making another attempt to get to his feet, but stumbled to the ground.
"Yeah, and I'm Princess Koji's best friend." Sarcasm dripped from Mignogna's tone, but vanished quickly and turned serious again. "Just cut the macho act and give me your hand. You're not fooling anyone. Otherwise, I'll just drag you. What'll it be?"
Rancis couldn't help but chuckle at the woman's insistence. She sure reminds me of Vanellope. He took Mignogna's hand, and carefully pulled himself up. Before he could fall back down, the brunette hoisted his arm over her shoulder to support him, then started toward the corridor Agnes vanished into.
When Rancis and Mignogna emerged through the relatively-short corridor, they found Agnes and a petite, pink-haired woman surrounding and holding down a rainbow-clad woman thrashing about in an old, damaged mattress. The colorful girl was tossing and turning, muttering and screaming incomprehensible curses and comments. The girl looked familiar to the peanut butter cup racer, with her afro flat as a tire on her head and her vibrant-colored clothing appearing more faded than usual, having grown paler. The girl's clothes, like Rancis's, were in tatters, her jacket slipping off of her shoulders and her skirt and shirt having more holes than Swiss cheese. Aside from her infected features, Rancis recognized her.
"Snow!" the peanut butter cup racer said, which made both the pink-haired woman and Agnes regard him with raised eyebrows.
"'Snow?'" the pink-haired girl repeated, trying to maintain her hold on the sherbet racer's arms. "You know her?" Her blue eyes studied Rancis with interest, and her arms were folded under her average chest. The woman's hair like Mignogna's barely reached her shoulders, and her figure was nearly similar to the brunette's. She was also dressed in a two-piece outfit.
"Yeah," Rancis replied, guessing the pink-haired girl was Wendee. "We're both from Sugar Rush."
"What happened in Sugar Rush?" Agnes asked, trying to secure Snow's legs, with Mignogna pinning the sherbet racer's head down.
Snow continued to shriek, thrashing about and threatening to pull away from the trio's grasp.
"What's wrong with her?" Rancis inquired.
"I was hoping you'd tell us that," retorted Wendee. "Is there some sort of virus going around Sugar Rush?" She scanned Rancis's infected state, then glanced down to feel Snow's arms relax. The sherbet racer's cries and curses were slowly diminishing, causing the pink-haired woman to breathe a sigh of relief.
"Finally," Agnes muttered as the sherbet racer's pained screams gradually reduced to soft moans, then a few seconds later regressed to shallow, quiet breaths.
"She's definitely having it worse than you," Mignogna agreed, turning to Rancis.
"And it rhymes with Fix-It," added Rancis, worry tainting his voice, which developed venom when he continued. "And more than likely King Candy."
"King Candy?" Wendee repeated. "I thought he was dead."
"Duh, little sister," Mignogna retorted.
"I'm more confused about Fix-It," Agnes interjected, releasing her hold on Snow when she was positive that the sherbet racer was released. "I hope you don't mean Fix-It Felix, Jr."
I wish that were the case. Rancis sighed, then reluctantly nodded, which generated three pairs of wide eyes staring at him. None of them could believe it.
Agnes was the first to react, her shocked gaze turning to dismissal. "Fix-It wouldn't hurt a fly," she scoffed. "He doesn't have the power to do this." The blonde nodded to the infected racer.
"Yeah, he fixes things, not plant viruses," Wendee added.
"Okay, girls, we all know what he does," Mignogna interjected. "I'm more interested in what King Candy has to do with this? Wasn't he Turbo, who's supposed to be in digital hell?" The brunette released her hold on Snow's legs, fixing her eyes on Rancis, who shifted backward a little.
"Yeah, big boy." Wendee followed suit, starting to approach Rancis with a smirk plastered on her pale face. "Give us the details."
"Keep it together, you two." Agnes joined the fray, brown eyes fixed sweetly on Rancis. "Besides, we can always charm him into telling how our mistress's little friend's back. We are drop dead sexy sirens, after all."
"Ex-mistress," Mignogna corrected.
Rancis slowly backed away toward the exit, feeling immensely uncomfortable in front of the three women, specifically between his legs. The blond glanced down to notice a bulge evident. Really? He groaned. You must be kidding. I can't have interest in three hot girls, two of whom are older than me. I'm only in love with one girl. Rancis's gaze fell on Mignogna and Agnes and how they looked a little bit into their mid-to-late twenties, only a little younger than Calhoun. The peanut butter cup racer found himself staring into those pairs of eyes, slumping a little. He felt himself falling into a dream state as he focused on the trio before him. All three of the women were beautiful in their own way, with Agnes and her curvy figure, Mignogna's cynical temperament, and Wendee...well, Rancis hadn't known enough about her yet to make a conjecture. But he felt like he wanted to, and he also wanted them. Rancis couldn't take his eyes off of any of them.
Suddenly, the dreamy state was broken when he tripped backward over a crevasse near the exit. Rancis blinked, remembering everything he needed to do.
Keep it together, Rancis. He took a deep breath, looking away from the women and on the ground. You need to find Vanellope, not waste your time on a trio of sirens.
"Hey, don't ignore us, kid." Mignogna grabbed the peanut butter cup racer's chin, lifting it so they were facing each other. Then her voice lowered to a sultry one. "Especially when I have ways of making you talk."
"It's none of your business," Rancis managed, trying to pull away. "And who is this 'mistress?' You keep saying something about that."
"I can take his clothes," Wendee volunteered eagerly, jumping closer to him in excitement.
"Piece by piece until he talks," added Agnes, making a grabbing gesture toward Rancis.
The young man found himself glancing up at the three sirens, anxiety welling up in his code, as he knew that at that point he had no choice but to spill the beans on what was happening. Running sure as hell wasn't an option, for Rancis was too weak to even make it past the exit and was certain one of them would tackle him down and drag him back. Besides, he couldn't leave Snow, who was still unconscious on the mattress.
At least Snow's nightmares or whatever are gone. Rancis smiled in slight relief at the now-peaceful Snow, glancing between Mignogna and Wendee and glad that the sherbet racer was okay. Then he remembered his own situation before him, attention back on the too-close-for-comfort sirens, namely Mignogna, whose lips were only inches from his.
"You will tell me, pretty boy," the brunette whispered. "And I don't mind forcing it out of you." She reached down to feel the now-growing bulge in Rancis's faded pants, which made the latter even more uncomfortable.
I'm so glad Vanellope's not here to see this right now, the peanut butter cup racer thought.
…
"What a headache..." Vanellope mumbled, slowly opening her eyes to see green and pink blurs in front of her, along with a brown, blue, and white one in the far corner of an unknown room. "What's going on?" The princess struggled to force her eyes open to make out where she was and what the blurs were, the images before her gradually coming into focus.
"Once everything was completely in focus, she realized that she was in a small, cramped bedroom, which the president guessed was Tapper's.
The room was definitely one-fourth the size of her own, with a twin-sized bed in the left corner and a desk opposite it. Vanellope noticed Tapper sitting at the tiny desk with a relieved expression on the bartender's face as he rose from his seat to approach her.
"You're awake, that's good." He smiled, kneeling in front of her.
"Yeah, a little woozy, but I'm fine," Vanellope replied, flashing Tapper an assuring grin.
"Can't say the same about your friends, though." Tapper nodded past Vanellope. "They're still in pretty bad shape."
"What?" The princess turned to the direction at where the bartender was pointing. "Sweet mother of monkey milk!" Vanellope noticed the still-unconscious Taffyta and Candlehead, who, as Tapper had just implied, were in bad shape.
It was more like horrible shape as Vanellope was observing her sisters' conditions, which were a far cry from their former selves.
Taffyta's pink racing outfit, once vibrant, was not sallow and nearly pale and colorless. Her long, platinum-blonde hair was now as white as an old woman's, frizzy and sticking in all directions, specifically at the ends, and the strawberry racer's once-tanned complexion was devoid of all color as if she hadn't been in the sun. It was a horrifying sight for Vanellope to see, and she feared how her best friend and rival on the race track would react once she woke up. If she ever woke up.
Candlehead's form was no better, with her pride and joy in the form of her candle snuffed out. Vanellope knew the birthday racer would be stricken and heartbroken at that alone once she awakened. Candlehead would be devastated. Vanellope's glance moved down to the rest of her sister, whose outfit was in Taffyta's condition, colorless and sallow. The birthday racer's clothes, unlike Taffyta's, was in disarray and fraught with holes and black splotches. Her face, which had always been pale, possessed a few purple spots as if she were sick.
"Taffyta, Candlehead." Vanellope whispered, fear generating in her voice and her chest at the sight of her fellow racers' damaged forms. What happened while we were out? Did a virus hit this game? However, that possibility was rebutted when she turned back to face Tapper, who was still as healthy as a Rapidash, and even more as the bartender was studying her. Raising an eyebrow, the princess asked, "Why are you staring at me like that?" Vanellope noticed Tapper rubbing his chin and cocking his head to the side, as if he had found something interesting about her. "Stop that! It's kinda creepy!" She quickly shifted back a few inches.
"Sorry about that, Vanellope." Tapper raised his hands in defense, after snapping out of his observant mood. "Wasn't trying to be a pervert, if that's what you were assuming." I just found something a little...odd, that's all. About you."
"Huh?" Vanellope raised another eyebrow. "Me? What are you getting at, Tapper? I'm totally lost now. It's one thing to prove that you're not being a perv, but it's another to be a little...cryptic about what you're talking about. Otherwise, I'll think you're trying to look me over as if you want to date me."
"Heavens no, Vanellope!" Tapper made a disgusted face at the president's conjecture. "Honestly, where did you get that idea from?" The bartender calmed down, cleared his throat, and continued. "I was saying that there was something odd about you unlike Taffyta and Candlehead."
"How so?"
"You're not infected by whatever bug hit you guys," Tapper finally said.
Vanellope was still confused, until she glanced down at herself to see that she was indeed unaffected by the mysterious phenomenon that hit the princess and her sisters. She glanced down at her hands, which were still tinged with the usual pink, then felt her long, raven, candy-littered hair, pulling a strand in front of her to see that it still retained its color and silky feel and didn't gray or become coarse. The lead racer then glanced down at her hoodie, which remained mint green and still clung to her upper body instead of grow baggy and disheveled. Overall, Vanellope was exactly the same. No black spots, no loss of color, no abnormalities whatsoever.
"I'm...fine?" she wondered, taking one last overview of herself to ensure that she was truly okay. "But how? Assuming this virus or whatever it is took over Sugar Rush, that is. If that's true, why am I the only one unaffected?"
"You tell me, Vanellope." Tapper shrugged. "'Cause I have no answers on that one."
"I wish I could tell you," Vanellope muttered. "But I don't know, either. I can say that there was someone involved in this, though, which sorta proves Gretel wrong about him even though he claims he isn't Turbo. And I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind and show him a glitch or two as soon as we get back to Sugar Rush. For now, we're not getting anywhere until Sora or whoever looks up Kenny Boy's profile."
"Sora's working on that right now," Tapper stated. "We'll know once she's done." He then glanced down at his watch, which read nine-fifteen at night. "You've been out for quite a while."
"Define 'a while.'"
"Can you say...two hours?"
Vanellope was taken aback. "Wow! We must've gotten knocked out by a really strong virus. King Turbutt must've outdone himself this time around...if it was truly him who slipped that mickey in Sugar Rush."
"You keep mentioning Turbo," Tapper realized, a little confused at the parts where the princess mentioned the ex-racer. "How's he involved in all of this? You want to clue me in? Because last I've heard about him he was dead...unless I'm missing something."
"Trust me, you have no idea," Vanellope said. "And I can promise you that I have plenty of time to explain King Turbutt."
…
"This really...isn't...my day," Ralph grumbled as he was still struggling with his bounds from Red, who was actually Turbo in disguise. The Bad Guy still couldn't believe that fact, for he knew good and well that he had left the ex-racer from hell to burn in the Diet Cola Hot Springs. "Honestly...someone needs to do something...with these ropes. Should've...gotten...Peanut Butter Kid to...free me first, but that would've...meant getting him killed, and...I couldn't...let that happen."
Ralph was growing weaker by the second, even more rapidly than before. So rapidly that his struggles were starting to falter. "This...virus..." Ralph tried to move his arms, but they wouldn't listen. Then he tried his legs, which were just as tightly bound as his arms. However, he couldn't move those, either. The wrecker sighed. "This...is...embarrassing. I'm supposed...to...wreck things...so why can't...I...wreck this rope?" He chuckled lightly at that, but quickly regained his serious attitude. "I've...never...been...so...helpless. What if...Vanellope's...hurt right now?" Tears started to burn in the Bad Guy's eyes in anger at the fact that there was nothing he could do to hurry to her aid immediately. "If Turbo...or this 'Mr. Candy'... gets to her..."
The Bad Guy thought of the lead racer, her mischievous attitude, and her never-ending determination. An image of the little glitchy girl he first met came to his mind, followed by all of the adventures they had while helping Vanellope back on the race track. They had endured many obstacles to help Vanellope gain her presidential position, which included breaking and entering for a new kart, outsmarting brainwashed subjects, and proving wrong the other racers who had once bullied her. Those had been good, though dangerous, times for the duo, especially when it brought them closer like brother and sister. Ralph couldn't help but smile lightly at those memories.
A few moments later, an image of the now-older Vanellope suddenly appeared in place of the child, this one retaining the same grin as her younger counterpart. As opposed to the young Vanellope, however, Ralph barely knew the young woman, even though they were the same person. He blamed the danger that was currently going on in the arcade, for if the arcade didn't have Mr. Candy, Turbo, or other evils to worry about, Ralph would and Vanellope would have had time to discuss the upgrade in detail. However, there was one thing the Bad Guy had learned upon meeting the older Vanellope even though it had been for a brief time. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something about adult Vanellope that the child didn't have, and it wasn't just the already-existing mettle.
Whatever it was, Ralph found himself growing attracted to this mystery quality of the princess, even more when everyone had been at Tapper discussing the Mushroom Ball plan, which was pretty much canceled as far as the wrecker was concerned. Besides, a silly ball was the least of his and the other arcade residents' problems, for his only worry was whether or not Vanellope was safe...and his own survival, but Ralph was slowly learning that the latter was growing more unlikely by the second. He was weak, infected, and unable to move a muscle.
"Felix...sure did...a number...on me, huh?" The wrecker chuckled again, his vision starting to blur as he was struggling to keep his eyes open. He would not let game over take him yet, not if there was still hope. "That kid...had better...hurry up...and find her." He continued to rant, but game over was relentless, and the Bad Guy's eyelids were quickly growing heavier.
A few moments later, he heard sudden footsteps upon gradually losing consciousness, and they were growing louder as they were approaching the room.
"Wow, that...was fast..." Ralph was awed, not believing that Rancis would return so quickly with the princess. "He...must not have...had to go...far." The wrecker used the last of his strength to turn away from the broken mirror in the corner and squirm around like a Caterpie to turn and face the open door. Ralph's vision threatened to blink in and out, but the Bad Guy was able to make out a shadow in the pink wall. "That...has...to be...them."
However, his assumption was dashed when the shadow was approaching his room, but it was a completely different shape from Vanellope or Rancis. Ralph couldn't make out the shape at all, nor did he recognize it. Besides, as the shadow was nearing the room, the Bad Guy realized that it was only one shadow instead of two and didn't form into neither Vanellope's ponytail and hourglass figure nor Rancis's hat and muscular figure. Instead, the shadow seemed to form into a curvier figure, with two protrusions on either side.
"That...doesn't look...like...the kids," Ralph mumbled, his vision failing. "Who...is that?" His head threatened to droop face down onto the floor before he could find that answer. He made one final attempt to lift it back up, but when he caught sight of the figure that had just entered the room, Ralph could only see a pair of feminine legs covered in a black evening dress with a slit up the right side. He tried to crane his head higher for a better view, but failed as he completely blacked out.
...
"Back off or do twenty push-ups!" Tamora yelled, knocking out what felt like her twentieth soldier in the middle of a staircase to the next floor, where Red was possibly residing. The sergeant and Kohut had been storming each hall in Hero's Duty, slugging corrupt men and characters along the way. Even without weapons, Calhoun and Kohut possessed excellent physical combat skills, and they had proven well in their weaponless situation. The soldiers hadn't stood a chance against either of them. If it were true defiance, Calhoun would punish them to no end, at least with a thousand push-ups or guard duty.
"We should grab their weapons," Kohut suggested, nodding to the pistol that the soldier wielded in his holster and the rifle slipping out of his limp hand. "They seem to be still loaded."
"Too bad the others ran out of bullets trying to shoot us before we could nab them," Tamora said as she reached into the soldier's holster for the rifle and pistol. She tossed the pistol to Kohut, who tried to conceal his disappointment at getting the short end of the stick.
"I know there's a complaint at the tip of your tongue." The sergeant smirked. "I know you want the rifle, and if we find another lady, you can have it. But don't get your hopes up; we're trying not to run into anymore brainwashed pussy-willows. Now, let's go. I need to find my husband."
Tamora and Kohut continued their ascent to the top level, where her office was and where Red was taking up residence. To their surprise, and Kohut's slight disappointment, there were no guards waiting to jump out and ambush them on the staircases or the hallways. Both found that odd, as Calhoun expected that Red would beef up security on the higher floors and hallways. It was what Tamora always did should anyone dared attempted to conduct breaking and entering.
"The bitch must be a little confident in her own skills," the sergeant guessed as the reached the top of the last staircase that led to the offices.
They surveyed the long area of doors, with at least a dozen of them on either side. Most of them led to offices, while others were bedrooms or common areas. The duo glanced in all directions of the hallway, carefully treading along as they remained alert in case a minion was hiding somewhere unseen to one's naked eye.
However, as Tamora and Kohut moved further into the hallway, they realized there were s no guards present to hassle them. Even so, Tamora was always alert at the slightest surprise as she held her "borrowed" rifle at the ready, Kohut doing the same with the pistol. They had to prepare themselves for anything.
"I hope Red's ready for a resident upheaval," whispered Calhoun as they approached the sergeant's hijacked office, which was the last one on the left side. She tightly gripped her rifle as she regarded her second-in-command. "Are you ready, Kohut?"
"Those five didn't sacrifice themselves for nothing," he replied, remembering Roy, Pit, Falco, Lucy, and Wizpig and how they put their short second chances on the line to allow the two soldiers further progress through the tower.
With that, Tamora and Kohut kicked the door open, causing it to fly off of its hinges and into the room. When the sergeant and the second-in-command entered the former froze at the sight before them.
Red was sitting at the sergeant's desk, with Felix sitting next to her, his back turned on his wife. The teen had a wicked smirk on her face as she glanced at Tamora.
"So nice of you to drop by, Tammy," Red greeted, a hint of venom in the nickname. Then she glanced down at the broken door. "And I'll forgive you for not knocking."
"Fuck that, bimbo!" The sergeant growled defiantly, her eyes on her husband. "You know what I'm here for. Now let him go!"
Red retained that saccharine smile. "Gladly." She regarded Felix, whose back was still turned. "Fix-It, go with Tammy, if you would."
"I told you before, didn't I?" the Good Guy asked in a low voice that started to creep Tamora out. "No one tells me what to do..." The handyman slowly turned around to face them, looking down.
Damn, he's still defiant, Red thought. I thought I gave him enough of that powder in my basket! It's supposed to make people obey me for at least eight hours. This is a bad time for it to wear off.
"We need to get out of here, Sarge," Kohut urged as he tried to pull Tamora toward the door. "I have a bad feeling about this."
Calhoun, however, stayed where she was, readying the rifle in case she was forced to defend herself. Especially when she was at a loss as to whether or not that was her husband.
"I can't leave Fix-It, Kohut," the sergeant said. "If that really is Fix-It."
"Oh, it's me. Tammy, is it?" Felix continued, retaining that malevolent voice. All traces of that Southern charm was gone.
"Short Stack, come on," Tamora tried to keep herself from shaking. "This isn't funny!" Please, User, don't let it be what I think it is. Calhoun hoped to hell that the virus had not taken control of her husband; however, what she saw next crushed that hope.
Felix raised his head to regard his wife. The sight before Tamora was horrific, and she was glad that none of the Nicelanders or Ralph was with her to see their corrupt hero. Not one hint of the sweet handyman whom she called her husband was evident. In place of him, was a virus with a demented smirk on his face, with crimson eyes burning into her blue ones. Red sparks crackled around the Good Guy as he rose from his seat next to Red to take on his wife.
"Oh...my...God..." Calhoun was at a loss for words, still not believing what she was facing, but it was true. It was all true; she hadn't arrived in time to save Felix.
"Do you like him, Tammy?" Red asked, giggling and taking a seat by the corrupt handyman's side.
"You're a sick bitch, you know that?" Tamora growled. "Infecting someone who hasn't done anything to you."
"Oh, I try." The teen waved off the comment as if it were a small compliment. "And I'm just as sick enough to send Felix at you two." She laughed. "And I'm definitely going to enjoy this." And that Mr. Candy bastard will be next!