Author's Notes: Okay people, let's recap.
We've got some freak running around killing people. We've got the Mario Brothers running around getting absolutely nothing done. We're got some cop dude running around getting absolutely nothing done while also looking highly suspicious in the process. We've got the Princess, cooped up in her castle, beating the crap outta Koopa. We've got Koopa, who highly disapproves of said killer. And we've got Luigi getting himself killed.
Well, okay...
He didn't get killed. Mortally wounded.
We all up to speed? Okay. And we've got the author, Pisces, who's a freaking lazy bum. Yes, that's right, I'm a lazy bum. It happens.
And you know what I've noticed? The multiple spellings of 'Weegee'. I've seen Weegy, Weegie, and obviously, the one I use, Weegee. I wonder if there's some official spelling of that... Hum, I guess it will just be one of those forever mysteries, where people go on expensive expeditions to find the answer that aren't government funded, but rather by some old, secluded millionaire who has nothing better to do with his money and all the people get killed off one by one (except for the beautiful ones, of course) and which the survivors end up crawling home, blood covered and mental scarred (but still physically beautiful) and haunted the rest of their lives because they didn't find the answers they were seeking for!
...Or nobody could care less. One of the two.
Anyway... On with the fic!
Warning: Um... There's some slightly disturbing scenes and it gets a little... weird. o.O
"Civil unrest is seizing hold throughout the kingdom, my Princess."
Back rigid, stride swift and firm, Princess Peach Toadstool advanced down the sterile hospital hallway with her head held high. Never letting her clear azure eyes waver from their unseen goal; never letting herself to relax; never letting herself break concentration; never letting herself stop and consider what was happening around her. Do not get emotionally involved. "I know, Zhar."
The High Chancellor considered the slim woman's profile with a cool, calculating glaze, soft footfalls and sweeping robes blending in with the sharp staccato gunshots of her Majesty's heels on tile. "The citizens feel as if they are not informed of the situation. They are afraid, Princess. They fear what they do not know."
"I know, Zhar."
"The people are agitated. Some are considering starting a minor riot."
"I know, Zhar."
The mushroom stopped. The Princess did not. "Do you Princess?" Zhar called after Toadstool's retreating form. "Do you really? If you knew just how frightened your people were, would you still be here? They need their Princess. They need to know she is in control of the state of affairs. They don't need their Princess confined in a hospital, mourning over a man who is not dead; where she can do absolutely nothing." Zhar paused, watching the gentle sway of Peach's thick mass of tresses. Raising his voice slightly, the thin man began his indication once more. "You're wasting your time, Princess. The people-"
"The people can go fuck themselves!"
The cry echoed in the otherwise quiet hall, overriding the finish of Zhar's sentence.
"The people don't need me, damn it." The Princess whirled about, form shaking with the intensity of her wrath. "They need their Heroes. Can't you see that?"
Zhar narrowed his dark eyes, head tilted to the side. "Is it the people who need their Heroes, or is it you, Princess?"
Clenching a delicate fist, Peach spun away from her Chancellor's objective face, back set painfully stiff in a visible sign of the internal struggle for composure. "Once I check up on Luigi's development, I shall compose a quick speech to address the citizens." The slender crown holder took a deep breath and shot a challenging look over one pink clad shoulder. "Is that to your liking, Chancellor?"
Zhar bowed minutely. "Of course, your Highness."
Toadstool gave him one last pompous, fleeting look and marching around the corner, where she broke down and silently cried.
Head lolled at an unnatural angle upon the flat pillow, staring numbly at the bandages that covered thenew, ugly stitches that held together his once smooth chest, the younger Mario mulled over the fact that he was dead. Or was going to die at a future date.
And, after letting his glassy gawk wander over to the IV needle, where it was busy happily pumping large quantities of morphine directly into his body (No stops! No waiting!), Luigi mulled over the fact that his last thought made absolutely no sense.
And when the door to his lonely little intensive care hospital room slowly opened and the walking corpse of Princess Toadstool walked in, he mulled over the fact that he really didn't want to be there anymore.
"Hello, Luigi," the corpse said in a sad attempt at being upbeat. It's crushed head smiled weakly, skin cracking with the effort, sending fresh rivulets of blood down to cake the broken collarbone, and it's empty, deformed eye sockets stared blankly at his bed as it sat down in the visitor seat.
Luigi feebly pulled away from Corpse-Peach's light touch, gasping at even that slight exertion. Corpse-Peach frowned, and drew away her broken hand.
Licking chapped and sewn lips, Luigi croaked out, "How long?"
The walking, talking (Dancing, singing... Oh, God, no...) corpse sighed through teeth that were only half there. "It's been twenty hours since you've been brought in. It's amazing you're even awake now. You've been-"
"No... How long... since you died?"
Corpse-Peach paused, and let one blood smearing tear follow along the creased paths that was her face. "Oh, Luigi... I'm not dead."
The slender plumber choked down a sob, and fostered the energy to turn his head away. Eyes averted from only a sight which he could see, he muttered a pitifully small: "Where's Mario?"
Peach couldn't force herself to answer.
"How did you know?" Voice hissing, hushed, angered, persistent, Captain Stephen backed deeper into a secluded corner of the waylay station. Positioned halfway along the heavily traveled route between the two major cities - Mushroom Kingdom Castle and Junon - it was the perfect place to cool down overworked horses or buy much needed supplies.
"He told me," Showing no pretense of stealth, the mutilated mushroom man tittered wildly, titling his head sideways to peer into the gloom that the ice blonde shroom was so desperately trying to wrap himself with. "I told myself."
Sol stilled, blue eyes searching inside, before snapping back into focus to meet the unsettling ebony ones facing him. His typically assertive tone seemed almost hesitant as he spoke. "You talked to him?"
"He spoke to me in words I could not understand." The murdering mushroom ran a gaunt hand through his ragged locks, absently rubbing the warped, scarred tissue where his ear had once been.
"So... It's already done." A pause. And then, in a voice as mild as if he were reporting the weather, Sol stated: "I hate you."
Tone surprisingly clear, steady, and sane, the man stated back: "I know you do."
The front door to the store opened, little bell attached above clattering wildly. Sol jumped and the other just mildly glanced around.
Mario's preoccupied, drained voice called out. "Captain Stephen? Everything set?"
The skeletal man threw his head in the direction of the summons, stare narrowed dangerously and breathing suddenly erratic. A quick growl, and he silently slipped away.
"Captain Stephen?"
Sol stepped out from behind a shelf and acknowledged the broad form of Mario, haloed by the bright sunrays shinning in from the still opened doorway. Arms full of random and hurriedly snatched up items, the mushroom cop carefully deposited them on the front counter, refusing to meet the gaze of either Mario or the cashier.
"Where's that strange looking fellow you were talking to?" the cashier inquired curiously while totally up the purchases.
Mario blinked. The dark smudges marring his face told of a heavy weariness that Sol himself did not feel, even after the hours of hard riding that they were both pushing themselves to do. "What 'strange looking fellow'?"
Digging hurriedly through his journeyman's bag that was slung over a shoulder, Sol pulled out a stack of coins and slapped them on the counter without bothering to count. He grabbed up the supply-filled sack and hoped that no one noticed his hands were shaking. "No one you would recognize."
Mario, Luigi, Peach, Bowser: ::chucks bombs at Pisces::
Pisces: AHHHH! ::explodes::
Mario: ::other three busy beating the crap out of Pisces in background:: We're sorry for this mild inconvenience. We will return you to your regularly scheduled program after the thrashing. ::gives Pisces a swift punch to stomach:: This is for leaving me thinking my brother's dead!
Peach: ::trying to break Pisces's shins with couch leg:: This is for not updating and making my look like a wimp!
Bowser: ::kidney poke after kidney poke:: This is for not even putting me in any of the recent chapters!
Luigi: ::kicks Pisces in head:: And this is for all the crap you're putting me through!
Pisces: @_@ saaave me....
