Notes: Warning for violence, gore, torture, death, and Suvian creepiness.
Part II
The first thought that came to Jennifer Chang's mind was 'what the fuck'.
The second, as she sat up and looked around her, was a wish that she could unsee the monstrosity before her.
She was standing in front of a castle – or what should be a castle, but looked more like it was crafted out of angel butts – that seemed to glow Bled by the sheer concentration of Sueishness within its walls.
"Our Dear Leader is obtaining lebensraum for us. Hail Imogene!" shouted Satow. He and Kane quickly snapped their ankles together and saluted a passing statue of a girl with long hair.
Jennifer stared.
Satow noticed her staring, and rounded on her. "You must salute the Dear Leader!" he shouted. "Pathetic Prime Multiverse scum! Do you not realise her glory? Her beauty? Too long have you dwelt in ignorance of all the power you could have obtained by joining forces with Suedom. Too long have the PPC brainwashed you all into believing that you must play by the rules. Down with the Canon! Hail Imogene!"
"Crazy," muttered Jennifer.
"What was that?" snarled Satow. Jennifer half expected him to suddenly begin to speak with a German accent, like the sort found in Disney World War Two-era propaganda.
"Oh, no, I meant crazy as in 'crazy not to have thought of it sooner'!" Jennifer amended hastily, beaming at him. "Hail your Dear Leader?"
The statue seemed to glower at her as they passed by. Jennifer looked at the Chronotransporter in Kane's hands; it carried a rather sickly tinge to it, as if it seemed almost… regretful? Anxious?
They approached the castle – or, according to some random Words floating past, the 'buttiful castiel' – and with every step forward, Jennifer grew more and more convinced that Dear Leader Imogene was a sick, twisted loony.
(No shit, Jennifer.)
But in any case they soon reached the entrance to the castle, which was guarded by two ugly hags that only vaguely looked like Kriss and Merka. Jennifer gaped in shock at the vacant expressions on their distorted faces and the fogginess in their eyes.
"Oh my god," she breathed. "Oh my god. You couldn't have…"
"What did they do to you?" Samantha Marie Pappas cried as Erich von Richtofen-Marlowe looked up from his cell. They were in the same set of quarantine camps that had held the Special People group in the first year; all of the prisoners were separated from each other by stone walls. The quarantine cell block looked very much like old castle dungeons, and conditions within were just as bad as they were in the Venetian pozzi.
Erich looked over at her, eyes haunted; he was sitting in the cell across from her. "Nothing," he said, but it was an obvious lie even from where she sat; she could see the shadows of burns and scars.
"Nothing looks rather painful," she pointed out.
"Does it matter?" he replied, looking at her forlornly.
Samantha looked at her hands, already grimy with the rust of the prison bars. Footsteps echoed in the corridor.
"They're coming for you," Erich murmured, not breaking eye contact, and Samantha gulped.
"It does matter, for the record," she breathed as a Mary Sue with neon blue hair entered and unlocked her cell, seizing her by her wrist and dragging her away. "It does matter!"
Samantha was blindfolded and hurried along hallways and corridors and up an elevator of sorts, but only when they reached an office of sorts did the blackness get pulled away from her face. The office was messy. Extremely messy.
At the desk sat a girl with rainbow hair, a curled ahoge, violently Urple eyes, one Urple wing, and an Urple dress. Samantha was forced into the seat across from her, and the door to the office was shut. She could hear a growling behind her, but she dared not turn.
"That's fluffy munchkins," the Urple-loving Sue said, almost offhandedly. Samantha blinked.
"Sorry?" she asked.
"My pet wolf. Her name is fluffy munchkins." She beamed innocently at Samantha, but her Urple eyes – which were already nauseating and blinding to look at – seemed to glint with malice. "Comply with me, and maybe you'll get on her good side, too! I absolutely hate having to hurt people."
Somehow Samantha didn't believe that. It could be because there was still blood on the desk, or the sinister-looking sharp objects sitting behind her interrogator – sinister-looking sharp objects that looked recently used.
"What did you do to Erich?" she breathed, eyes wide.
"He wasn't seeing the light," replied the Mary Sue casually. "My name is Serenity Moonshine Starlight Unicornbutt, and I'm going to be your new best friend!"
The door to the office suddenly opened and Ivan Braginski, dressed only in a pair of golden hotpants that would've made Rocky from Rocky Horror Picture Show feel well-covered, poked his head into the room.
"Serenity darling?" he asked in a breathy falseletto. Samantha nearly laughed at the ludicrousness of such a line from the Russian, but then she noticed the vacant expression in his face, the clouded look in his eyes.
She sobered immediately.
"Not now, Evie-kins," tittered Serenity. "I'll tend to your hammer and sickle later! Bye-bye!"
"Okay," whimpered Ivan, and left the room. Samantha gaped at Serenity.
"What'd you do to him?" she demanded.
"Now now, don't get your panties in a twist," Serenity giggled, tossing her rainbow hair behind her shoulder. Her breasts bounced very disturbingly, as if they were trying to defy gravity. "We're taking such good care of your teachers! Now please, answer these questions for me…"
They were back in the alternate timeline Venice again. Venezia and Julietta had spent their days hiding from wandering Mary Sues possibly out to catch them – the 'Wanted' posters with their faces on it were quite the giveaways. Alicia was covering her bases.
Obviously it was a bit of a stupid move to return to Venice, but there really was nowhere else to go and the PPC had enough problems on their hands without having to deal with two rogue Mary Sues trying to find refuge. They couldn't risk entering other timelines, and they already knew the terrain – or lack thereof – of the city.
They hadn't anticipated seeing a certain blond-haired and thick-browed diplomat at their inn, though.
True, all of them were wearing masks despite it not being Carnival time, but Venezia couldn't mistake Fraser's eyes. Sometimes they were all she ever thought about, and Julietta for some reason knew. Knew and teased her to no end about it. Pot, meet kettle.
"It's a lovely night out there," Fraser noted as Venezia headed over to his table. "Surely you've better ways to spend your time than sitting in a pub."
"What are you doing here?"
"I'd say it was rather simple," Fraser replied, shrugging. He already had half a goblet of wine drunk. "I'm in hiding."
"Well, that makes three of us," Julietta declared, giggling as she took a seat next to him. "I'm Julietta Shakespeare Vargas!"
"Pleasure to meet you. Hugh Fraser." The diplomat crossed his arms and legs and leant back in his chair, eyes scrutinising Venezia, who wished for nothing more than a fan to hide her glowing face.
"You must've met Vennie before," continued Julietta blithely, even as Venezia glared sharply at her. "She represents Venice. I represent Verona. Isn't it lovely?"
"Mm." Fraser sipped his wine. "And I am but a humble diplomat who strayed from his refuge in the English embassy. Are there others out there?"
"Other Mary Sues?" asked Julietta, beaming at a passing waiter as she ordered her and Venezia some goblets of wine.
"Mm. I should probably surrender myself to your good graces, but despite my inebriation I still have a shred of dignity somewhere in here."
"We're in hiding, too. Didn't you hear that earlier?" Venezia demanded, looking over her shoulder and still refusing to sit. "We're wanted for helping two of your students escape. And we should get away from the window."
"Anyone looking in the window would really have to look to see us," Fraser pointed out.
"Still. It's not safe. I'd say we retire to one of our rooms to discuss matters, but even walls have ears."
"We could go to the fish market tomorrow morning and talk about it there," Fraser suggested.
Venezia pursed her lips. "The smell is excruciating."
"It's either here or there. We'd still run the chance of getting caught, no matter where we are. Venice is a city of masks." Fraser looked into the depths of his now-empty goblet and sighed. "I ought to get back to the embassy."
"You don't trust us, though, do you?" Julietta piped up again, as her drinks arrived. Fraser raised an eyebrow behind his mask. "Even though we were right about the Chronotransporter."
"You're very astute," remarked the diplomat as he pushed back his chair and clambered to his feet, straightening out his ruffly collar. "I'm sorry about doubting the information, but you know… Venezia did feed misinformation to Gerolamo Vano, and I'm not particularly inclined to trust Mary Sues."
"I'm sorry," replied Venezia simply, as the diplomat brushed past her on his way out the door. "I really am."
He turned back to look at her coolly. "It's fine," he muttered, before disappearing into the crowd.
"who r u," asked the Not-Kriss.
Jennifer nearly threw up on the spot. She felt on the verge of collapsing, and it was only with the help of Satow – for some reason he didn't particularly want to let her collapse on the random drawbridge into the castle, or better yet into the Urple-watered moat filled with swans. Those swans were probably part-piranha anyway.
"You shouldn't talk to these ugly losers," sneered Kane as she swept past Not-Kriss and Not-Merka. But Jennifer couldn't help but send pitying glances back towards the drawbridge of the castle. Said pitying glance was soon getting overworked, though, by the appearance of dozens and dozens of ugly crones.
All of the female students, Jennifer quickly realised in horror as she watched their distorted faces trickle and drip like melted wax. She shuddered a bit at the utter grotesqueness of their features; they seriously reminded her of Epsilons from Brave New World.
But if the non-Suvian females were Epsilons, then that would only make the males…
"hay gurl! hows it goin?" a voice dripping in campness demanded suddenly. Jennifer turned to see an extremely buff man with curly brown hair, glasses, and criminally tight trousers.
"Franklin?" she demanded incredulously.
"dunno who ur talkin bout, gurl, cuz peeps here call me da cake boi," replied Not-Franklin, rolling up the sleeves of an extremely tight Purple Shirt of Sex™. Jennifer could've sworn her eyes were the size of dinner plates. "cum here darlin' and lemme luv ur body."
"Um… no thanks. Why don't you go try fucking some red velvet cake?" Jennifer demanded, grinning hastily as she rushed away from him, after Satow and Kane who had already crossed the courtyard. Not-Franklin tried to follow, but was quickly whisked away by someone else (probably Not-Taylor, who was probably disappointed that Franklin couldn't charm her into joining their threesome or something).
She passed a giant fountain-statue-thing of the same girl with the same ridiculous long rainbow hair. Well, Dear Leader Imogene certainly looked like she was compensating for something. Probably the small size of her brain, but more likely the small size of her breasts. After all, the giant statue showed her with unrealistic, gravity-defying tits.
The entire place seemed to be fuelled with sexual frustration and hormones. Jennifer wondered if this was done on purpose to torment her about her own drama problems.
Ursula strode out of the Underground Hospital Wing in her nurse's outfit, out to meet the casualties of the latest bombing. The air raid sirens had died, but the lights were still flashing red all over the corridors of the dormitories, casting everyone into light and shadow.
She arrived at the entrance to the dorms just as the Mochis bounced in, bearing on their backs the bodies of the wounded and the fallen. Nurse Florance Nightingail quickly opened the cryogenic plothole and shoved the dead into it; Ursula paid no attention to the others lining the hallways with red eyes and Kleenex as the Mochi procession hurried in.
"Ursula!" someone gasped from the crowd. Ursula rushed over to see one of the newcomers, Liva Airivy. God, there was so much blood… Ursula fought valiantly with her churning stomach and her urge to retch, and patted Liva's hand nervously.
"You're going to be all right, you're going to…" she breathed, feeling the other student's head for a fever. A random set of rainbow wings popped out of Liva's shoulders, but she forced them back, hacking wildly and coughing up Glitter.
"Are they going to amputate my leg?" she whimpered, and with a jolt Ursula realised that one of Liva's legs was horribly mangled, the flesh hanging in grotesque strips and – oh dear glod, was that bone?
"We'll think of something," Ursula replied vaguely, before injecting the liquefied Bleeprin and the morphine and falling back as Liva was carried off and another wounded student took her place.
When the wounded students were all administered Bleeprin and morphine to dull the aches of their battles (and some shallower wounds were tended to and bandaged), Ursula finally straightened and took a deep breath, turning to head back into the bowels of the girls' dormitory. The aboveground levels of the boys' and girls' dorms were all routinely inspected by the Sues and were still used by most students as dormitories, but try as the Sues might they were unable to find the location of the entrance into the Underground proper.
It was a godsend, this underground network of tunnels and chambers that ran deep enough to avoid bombs and was fortified enough for attack. It'd been carved out by Belgium and Vietnam and hidden for emergency use, and presented itself much like the entrance to the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts. The Underground was where the escaped Staff, the Nerds, and the prominent members of the Lurkers' Union lived. Unfortunately though, there were only so many supplies to go around in there.
The relocated Hospital Wing was in the Underground. Peter was at the doors to the tunnels, holding them open for the Mochis and the casualties, and Ursula smiled faintly at him as she walked past. Had it only been two weeks since all of this started? Had they seriously missed April Fools because the Staff was largely brainwashed and the Mary Sues thought that destroying the supplies in the cafeteria kitchen was a good April Fools prank?
Had it really been two weeks since she last thought that Peter was an incompetent idiot and that Kira was a creepy immature brat?
Speaking of Kira, the Black half-panda half-star girl was looking at the Memorial Wall just outside the Wardroom.
"They're having a meeting in there later, yo," she told Ursula as she walked up to look at the wall next to her, hands behind her back. "They're waiting on Peter."
Ursula peeked into the Wardroom to see Mary Crawford, Howard the Spy, and Stanley South standing at the head with a projector screen, and R'lyeh, Boris, Charley Maytha, Midori Harrison, Lila Kirk, Sara Parker, and Erika von Richtofen-Marlowe (who had returned as soon as Alex Pierce let slip to her that her brother had been captured) sitting at the tables.
"What are they going to discuss?" she asked Kira, who shrugged and turned back to the wall.
Sixteen dead in combat, two Nerds killed, two Nerds taken prisoner. Ursula suppressed the urge to cry, even though she didn't really know any of the fallen – the first casualty, Yuki-rin Oxenstierna, had died defending Pirate Arthur's ship as he fled to safety, and the rest had fallen in both ground and aerial skirmishes.
So twenty dead or captured. Ursula traced the pictures on the walls. There was Yuki-rin Oxenstierna, and Matsu Takeshima, and Kartik Abingdon, and Samantha Pappas, and Erich von Richtofen-Marlowe. And then there were Axel Hoit, Tamantha Smith and her robot Roberta, Sasha K. Everthorne, Eliza Keaton, Ariana Beatrice Grant.
Princie Fraser was deeply mourned by his friend Dex Thomson. The Zhao twins died together.
Idun and the picture she brought of her family were placed side-by-side on the wall.
Sara the Awesome's history book was now in the keeping of the Nerd Group. Tristan Hunter had helped Yuki-rin defend Pirate Arthur's turf. Mio Garcia's last painting was on the wall.
Lilla McCall's violin music seemed to haunt the halls of the girls' dormitories, even though she had only been on campus for a week and a half.
And Regade Opacus fell defending a fandom he technically didn't belong to.
Ursula looked at all of their pictures; next to her Kira had started crying, and without even realising it Ursula put a hand on the half-panda's shoulders and squeezed, smiling sadly.
"I didn't really know any of them," Kira sniffled. "And now they're dead, and I feel so guilty for living when they died…"
"It's going to be all right," a third voice piped up, and the two older girls looked down at eight-year-old Anna Nightingale, who was still clutching a child's gas mask from the air raid earlier. "Isn't it?"
"Yeah," lied Ursula, as Kira hugged Anna, sobbing wildly into her shirt. "It's going to be all right."
Samantha screamed. And cried. And begged for it to stop, because Serenity was drowning her, and burning her, and replacing her blood vessels with metal rods –
Or at least that's what it felt like.
Serenity snapped her fingers, and the pain ebbed for a moment. But it was still there, a slight uncomfortable prickling, like a thousand needles stabbing at her, barely stabbing at her –
"Well then?" Serenity asked calmly, sweetly, as if she hadn't spent the last couple of minutes making Samantha feel the mental equivalent of being carved alive. "Where are the other Nerds?"
"I – I don't know, I really don – AAUGH!" Tears rolled down Samantha's face as Serenity prepared to snap her fingers again. "I don't know where they are –"
"Talia Hefairy found you two sneaking into the library. Is that your hidey-hole? Will we find you all in book forts? I'd really love to know."
"I'm not telling – no! Aaaugh, no, please have mercy! Mercy!"
"I save my mercy for those who deserve it!" sneered Serenity, and snapped her fingers again. Pain washed over Samantha in waves; she cried and screamed and tried to wriggle out of her chair, but apparently Serenity's mental pain powers could also hold people in place.
It felt like ages before the pain ebbed with another snap, but when Samantha opened her eyes again her stomach churned wildly.
Apparently when she had been lost to the agony they had brought Erich in, hands bound in handcuffs that had probably wandered out of some sex shop in the red light district of Amsterdam. In the light of the office he looked even worse than she'd thought, with a black eye swelling beautifully and several other bruises and cuts. Probably the work of a Warrior-Sue. Samantha felt the prickle of tears again.
Erich was staring at her, eyes wide in shock and horror. Serenity, smiling calmly, turned to him with a dangerous glint in her Urple eyes.
"Do we have a deal? Or will I torture poor Miss Pappas again?"
Erich's mouth dropped open. He looked over at her, and Samantha realised with horror that there was a deadened look in his eyes.
Erich nodded.
"Your rooms are here," Satow said suddenly, and Jennifer snapped out of her dreamlike trance that had been her way of coping with the faceless monsters that used to be her female peers and avoiding the attentions of the oversexed creatures that used to be her male peers. She'd wandered through the halls after Satow and Kane, totally ignoring everything around her – which was, as previously hinted, a good idea. After all, the walls also appeared to be painted with blinding shades of Urple and Bled, and decorated throughout with posters of Imogene's horrifyingly Suvian mug.
"Oh, thanks," Jennifer muttered as she pushed open the door and entered the room.
It was almost blessedly devoid of Sue colours, this room. The surfaces were invariably different shades of generic, and even one-star motel rooms looked better than it, but Jennifer was glad for the piece of normality as she sank down onto the bed and stared at the ugly popcorn ceiling. Satow closed the door, and she could hear him locking it.
Oh, brilliant. The door locked from the outside? Now she was going to have to be extra careful.
Jennifer flung open the wardrobe. Several decent outfits existed within, but they were largely swamped out by the huge amounts of skimpy or over-frilly outfits (or both; nothing like a super-ruffly bikini). The Asian Anglophile found herself wincing at the very sight of them – seriously, these things were meant for supermodel bodies, and she most definitely did not have one.
"Yeah, way to make girls feel happy about themselves. Are you trying to tempt me back into Sue-writing?" Jennifer demanded of the ceiling. "Are you trying to make me compensate for my body by compelling me to write a story with a female character that caters to the whims of the patriarchy, and then turning around and claiming that such characters are empowering to women? Fuck you and the Glittery unicorn you rode in on!"
The ceiling, of course, did not answer. But it probably felt very hurt at being the object of Jennifer's tirade, since the ceiling did no such thing. It was only an unfortunate stand-in for Imogene.
Jennifer flung the ruffly bikini back into the wardrobe with a fury and took out a black hoodie and a pair of jeans. Despite their horrifically tight look, they actually fit her snugly. A bit too snugly, though, but at least she could fit into them.
Mary Sues did have some room for thoughtfulness, perhaps.
Jennifer snorted to herself at that thought as she donned the black hoodie as well and walked over to a pair of French windows. They opened out onto a balcony, which was far nicer than her entire room and afforded a great view of the lands beyond the Buttiful Castiel of Doom. There was a bastardised version of Lake Eric, of course, and the moat, several bushes, and a very sparkly forest. Cute Animal Friends were everywhere.
And then she heard something. A rustle, in the bushes below. Her heart began to pound wildly; she slowly backed away from the railing of the balcony –
A dark figure dropped down in front of her, gun pointed at her chest.
Jennifer gulped.
