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Plague of the Punk Skullgirl
🕑 Added 2022-05-08 03:01:02 +0000 UTC
WARNING THIS STORY CONTAINS: Skullgirls Characters Punk TF
After being exposed to a corrupting, green goo, Filia becomes a self-proclaimed punk queen determined to spread her way of life through the Canopy Kingdom
This story is for an anonymous commissioner.
Commission Info: https://www.deviantart.com/eyebeast/journal/Commission-Info-615442807
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The New Meridian sky was covered by dark clouds and an even gloomier atmosphere for one of its many residents. Wondering the back alleys was a single woman with only a trench coat and a hat to keep her out of the pouring rain. Finding a modicum of shelter beneath a large pipe, she used her jacket as a makeshift seat to rest her weary legs. Momentarily opening up her coat revealed a school girl uniform, complete with a black skirt and a tie hanging over her tan blouse. As she pulled at her black, knee high socks to try and get them in a comfortable position around her chubby legs, she let out a groan as she felt her hat begin to wobble.
“Samson, you know it’s not safe to be out in public,” she said in a hushed whisper.
“Filia come on, you know there’s no one else around,” replied a guttural voice.
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, just be careful.”
Moments before she could pull away her hat, a set of fearsome jaws rose up to devour it in a single bite. With nothing in its way, Filia’s black hair was free to hang over her shoulders and down to her waist. The silky strands would have looked beautiful, if it weren’t for the pair of yellow eyes and pointy teeth sticking out of the back of her head.
“Samson!”
“Sorry kid, you know how annoying that thing gets,” the parasitic Samson replied, wriggling Filia’s hair in an attempt to stretch out. “If anyone comes by you can just say it’s a costume or something.”
Filia opened her mouth to argue, only to slump down further and hug her knees close together. “What’s the point. Not like anything matters anyway.” Moments before a tear managed to roll down her cheeks, one of her locks reached out to wipe it away.
“Hey, don’t let it get to ya,” Samson said, flicking away the tear. “Not your fault a walking brass band and a deranged cartoon character took out the Skullgirl before we got a chance to snag the Skull Heart.”
“That was my only way of getting my memories back,” Filia said, clenching her fingers as she tried to stop herself from breaking down and crying again.
“Listen kid, memories aren’t everything. As a matter of fact, a lot of people actually would prefer if they forgot some stuff they’ve seen or done. Let’s say I show you one of the preferred methods. There should be a bar around here somewhere.”
Filia broke out of her depressed state to grimace at Samson’s words. “You know I’m not old enough to drink.”
“What are you talking about? You’re 18. That’s plenty old.”
“Maybe back in the old days, but in the Canopy Kingdom the legal age is-“
Filia was interrupted by a loud THUNK from above. Craning her neck up, she saw the pipe begin to shake. Making the wise decision to leap out of the way prevented her from getting smashed by the corroded hunk of metal. However, that didn’t stop a splotch of neon green goo from shooting out of the hole and hitting her in the face.
“You okay, kid?” Samson asked as she tried to clean herself off with the waning downpour.
“Great, like I needed anymore problems,” she said, bemoaning the cleared up weather as she used her jacket as a towel. “Can it get any worse?”
Filia answered her own question as a sudden warmth in her torso made her clench her chest. Her breathing became labored as her body began to shiver. Fingers trembling from an unknown power, she looked up just in time to see her hair turn the same shade of green as the goo.
“Filia I don’t…feel well,” Samson said, his tendrils frantically swinging about. “I think we need to see a doctor or something. You can tell them I’m some sort of pet or-“
Samson was interrupted by a yelp from Filia. The cause of the outburst was the sight of her sensible shoes changing into a set of heavy duty, leather boots to go with the fishnet stockings that had moments before been her pair of socks. Her panic only grew as the skirt hugging her hips became tighter to accommodate their new form as a pair of black, denim short shorts that left a portion of the underside of her butt cheeks hanging out.
Filia’s top ripped itself apart only to reform into a leather jacket that hung loosely over her shoulders. The few seconds her torso was left bare was interrupted by a black crop top covered in neon green skulls with spikes jutting from their craniums that stretched across her torso. While she was thankful that she was no longer nude, she was less thrilled to see that her mid-section was still bare to show off a silver ring piercing hanging out of her belly button.
Another shudder had Filia clasp at her forehead. Upon feeling her nails prick her skin, she pulled them back to see they had taken on a green hue similar to her hair. Leather bracelets appeared along her wrists, matching the studded collar that wrapped itself around her neck. In the hopes of gaining a semblance of what was going on, she ran over to a nearby puddle and gasped at the sight of the green lipstick clinging to her mouth and the dark shadows painted beneath her eyes.
Filia’s panicked expression faltered as her body once more succumbed to a series of shivers. For a moment she just stood there, her mouth agape to let her see the barbell piercing that had made its home on her tongue. The longer she stared, the more her fears for her drastic makeover were overtaken by a strange liking to it. Looking over her new identity as a grungy punk girl, a smile started to appear on her face.
“Kid, kid!” Samson shouted in an attempt to garner her attention. “I don’t know what’s happening to us, but we need to move there’s a-“
“What are you doing here?”
Filia turned to see a man with shoulder-length black hair and a sharp look in his eyes splashing through the puddles as he ran down the alley. Unaffected by the dampness clinging to his white dress shirt, he approached her with a worried expression on his face. Noticing the guns contained in the holsters around his chest, Filia didn’t need Samson’s help to know to be wary.
“Are you lost?” the man asked, looking over Filia’s extreme appearance. “My name is Irvin. Do you need any help?”
Filia remained silent as she looked over his body. As she pondered the stranger’s intentions, something in the back of her mind started to fill her head with a plethora of strange ideas. Putting on a smug smirk, she gestured for Irvin to come closer. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him in and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“What was that about?” Irvin asked, stepping away with his hand rubbing at the smudge of lipstick on his face. “You really shouldn’t go around kissing random strangers. And what’s with your outfit? I don’t think anyone has seen fashion like that since-“
Irvin’s speech faltered as his body became overcame with the same tremors that had affected Filia. His black hair turned into a stunning shade of fiery orange as it reformed into the shape of a fin-like mohawk. The wetness clinging to his shirt dissipated to make way for a black tank top with a design similar to Filia’s. Impressed with the stranger’s new set of leather pants and combat boots, Filia reached out to get a feel for his red-painted nails.
“You’re mine now,” she said, snapping her fingers to get him follow her.
“You got it, queen,” Irving replied, walking up behind her.
“Kid, what was that?” Samson asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” Filia responded.
“I’m serious. This reminds me of something, but I can’t quite-“
“Shut it,” Filia replied, her voice vacant of any of her former gentleness. “Like I said, you don’t have to worry about it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Simple,” Filia said, holding up her hand to gander at her painted nails. “I’m going to give this stuffy town a much needed makeover.”
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The sounds of chips clinging against tables and slot machines whirring below did an excellent job of covering Nadia Fortune’s movement as she clambered through the rafters of the River King Casino. Pausing at the highest point in the main game room, her pointed cat ears flickered about her short, white hair as she surveyed the floor below. Considering the various flashing lights littering the area, she wasn’t at all worried that her blue crop top and brown tail would be visible to the guests and employees of the casino. Baring her fangs in a grin, she tapped her claws against the metal rigging at the thought of plundering this place of as much loot as she could grab.
As much as she wanted to head straight to the vault, she had learned from the Fishbone Gang that it paid to get an idea of the area first before recklessly diving into danger. Drifting over the hordes of people with surplus money and time, her gaze gradually made its way to the person working the door. Beneath a pair of massive, orange arms were a pair of smaller, but equally intimidating ones belonging to Cerebella. Judging by her blue hair, flamboyant attire, and living hat, Nadia was certain she was the Medici bouncer that her intel had warned her about.
Keeping one eye on Cerebella as she crept along the rafters, Nadia once more paused at the sound of dulcet tones floating into her ears. Turning her attention towards the stage let her watch a woman decked out in a black and gold dress waltz her way up to the microphone much to the adoration of the audience. Upon hearing the crowd give out enough calls for her name, Eliza cleared her throat, flourished her short black hair, and began to sing.
Though the singer’s voice was undeniably beautiful, Nadia couldn’t help feeling uneasy from being in the woman’s presence. Peeking down to get a closer look, she froze as Eliza momentarily locked eyes with her. Seeing the way a smile appeared on the singer’s face sent a shiver down Nadia’s spine that forced her back into her hiding spot. As she pondered what kind of entertainers the Medicis were hiring these days, the sound of some aggravated customers around the entrance swiftly brought her attention to a very strange sight.
“Hey, no cutting in line,” Cerebella shouted to Filia. “Not that you’re even getting in here in the first place looking like that.”
Filia sneered. “And what’s wrong with the way I look?” she asked back, unflinchingly pressing a finger into Cerebella’s chest. “You’re going to say the same about my friends? For what you claim is a ritzy establishment, you’re pretty damn rude yourselves.”
“Kid please, you don’t need to do this,” added Samson, his presence much less jarring compared to the rest of Filia’s appearance.
“Can it,” Filia said, smacking Samson with one of her hair tendrils. “The queen is talking to her future subject.”
“I don’t know what you’re going on about,” Cerebella said, cracking her knuckles in unison with her living hat, “but it sounds like the only way you’re leaving here is with more than a few broken bones.”
“Hey, hey, no need to fight,” Filia said, holding up her hands in a faux sign of surrender. “I’m just here to have fun and maybe let you loosen up a bit. You might even enjoy a life on the wilder side.”
Faster than Cerebella could react, Filia lunged forward and placed a kiss on her cheek. While Vice Versa lashed out to send Filia away, the damage had already been done. Wiping away the droplets of leftover lipstick, Cerebella dropped to the ground as she was overcome with powerful tremors.
Her already low-cut dress became even skimpier as the fabric tightly wound itself around her torso to make a leather tube top interspersed with streaks of blue. Frozen still as her breasts popped right out the slim-fitting outfit, she was quickly given a semblance of decency through the help of neon blue tape covering her nipples in the shapes of black crosses. The sleeves of her outfit ripped asunder to make way for bracelets with spikes of a similar hues of azure. Another series of tremors made her kneel and gave the onlookers a good look at her butt as it peeked out from beneath her leather mini-skirt. Forcing herself to stand up on the set of heeled, ankle-high, leather boots, she was momentarily blinded by her hair as it stretched into long braids and turned into the same obnoxious shade of blue as her various accents.
Brushing aside the cerulean strands, Cerebella was surprised to feel a set of metal piercings along her eyebrows. Poking her fingers against the steel inevitably drew her attention towards Vice Versa. The hat had taken on a similar appearance of leather as the rest of her clothing, including sets of savage looking spikes lining its bulky limbs. Despite its owner’s fearful state, Vice Versa’s skull-face had been blown up to show a wide smile of fangs alongside its set of glowing, red eyes. Gradually, Cerebella found herself mimicking the expression as she got back down on her knees to bow towards Filia.
“Welcome to the casino, your highness,” Cerebella said. “Anything I can do to help you liven this place up? Feels like I’m surrounded by corpses.”
Filia smirked. “Mind stepping aside? The boys and I think this place is due for a party.”
Standing up, Cerebella gave a small bow and gestured towards the casino floor. With a wave of her hand, Filia sent forth a horde of people with similar punk appearances and a penchant for mayhem.
Between smashing slot machines and tossing chairs, the wild punks would occasionally stop to administer a splotch of green spray paint over one of the casino guests. Nadia only realized the true danger of Filia’s group as each person that was tagged went through a rapid transition in both body and mind. High class dresses were reduced to tattered rags and revealing outfits. Prim and proper hairdos were corrupted with splotches of bright color. Fine jewelry was swapped out for piercings that found their way into various parts of their hosts’ bodies. This all culminated in a mosh pit of recently made punks that completely obliterated any sense of class that lingered in the casino.
A loud screech from the stage took Nadia’s attention away from the chaos to gaze upon Eliza. Sporting a recently added splotch of neon green lipstick on her cheek, the singer took the microphone and began to wail out a series of tunes that were the complete antithesis of her former performance. Each guttural tone seemed to further distort her outfit, leaving little to the imagination as the leather material showed off pockets of her skin. The gold coloring of her outfit was maintained, but in the form of multiple piercings that were spread across her lips, ears, and belly button to go with the golden cat tattoo spread across her face. Accompanied with set a of metal riffs from her band, she brandished her mohawk of blood red hair as she stomped across the stage to the beat of the wild tunes.
Realizing that her opportunity to steal from the Medicis had long passed, Nadia began to crawl back across the rafters. She froze dead still as she felt the structure begin to shake. Holding on for dear life, she looked below to see a group of recently punkified waitresses venting their frustrations by shaking around one of the support beams. The women’s combined efforts managed to snap apart the metal to send part of the rafters and Nadia plummeting to the floor.
Rolling away from the debris, Nadia considered herself lucky to have gotten away with only a few scratches. Her fortune quickly ran out as she was surrounded by a horde of punks. Pulling out cans of the tainted spray paint, they pointed them at the cat girl and unleashed the punk plague upon her.
Nadia’s initial panic turned into unbridled excitement as a pair of metal rings appeared at the tips of her ears to go alongside her whisps of pink hair. Her blue top ripped apart to become a denim jacket that was left open to show off the tight, black tank top showing off Filia’s tell tale logo of neon green skulls. Graciously accepting the help of her fellow punks, she let her tail sway back and forth against her leather hot pants as she sauntered up to the stage to join the others in cheering on Eliza’s performance.
At the bar, Filia took up one of the few stools that hadn’t been tossed by her followers. Grabbing a drink someone had left behind, she gave it a swig. Instantly revolting at the taste, she tossed it across the room to the sound of a satisfying shatter.
“Guess it’s something that’ll have to grow on me,” Filia remarked as she reached over the counter to grab a can of soda.
“Filia, I think you’ve taken things too far,” Samson pleaded. “Let’s stop this before anyone else gets hurt.”
“Heh, that’s rich coming from you,” she answered, silencing him by crushing the can against his teeth. “Besides, the fun is just getting started.”
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The streets of New Meridian were ablaze with activity as the panicked citizens ran for safety. While the Black Egrets were out in full force to assist with combating the threat, their military training never could have prepared them for the punkified masses wreaking havoc through the kingdom. No one was more aware of this fact than Parasoul and she knew it was only a matter of time before her forces gave out.
Clutching the radio between her fingers, she whipped about her scarlet red hair and brought it to her face. “Adam, report.”
“Yes princess. A majority of the citizens have managed to escape the city thanks to the help of the agents from Lab 8.”
Parasoul tugged at the hem of her black miniskirt. “And Umbrella?”
“Panzerfaust and Molly are already in the process of transporting her to the Chess Kingdom.”
Placing her hand against her chest, she let her fingers slide across the cross of the Trinity placed upon her black sweater as she breathed a sigh of relief. “Excellent. How is our counter-offensive against the enemy?”
“It’s not looking good. Since we’re dealing with former citizens, trying to subdue them without causing major harm has been difficult. Especially since they’ve taken to guerilla warfare tactics.”
“Do whatever you can to slow them down at least,” Parasoul said, regaining her former commanding demeanor. “We have to buy as much time as we can until we can find a cure.”
“We’ll do our best, commander. At the very least, we have ensured this checkpoint is secure and-“
The radio began to crackle and distort, the rest of Adam’s words drowned out by screams and loud music. Hearing the sounds of a struggle mixed with spray paint cans, Parasoul continuously shouted into the radio to extract any information. While the noise didn’t stop, it did settle long enough for her to hear something on the other side.
“Hey there Princess,” Adam spoke, his voice tinged with a ferocity unheard of for someone like him. “Me and the boys have decided that we have some better ideas for the kingdom. Like giving it up to Queen Filia and making it into a punk paradise. Should be wicked fun.”
“Adam, get a hold of yourself!” Parasoul shouted.
“As if. You’re not the boss of me anymore. But, as a friendly suggestion, I would recommend surrendering now. It’ll make things a lot easier.”
“Never!”
“Suit yourself, princess. The queen should be there soon to see if she can change your mind. Not that you have much of a choice.”
Almost going deaf from the blast of music that sprang from the radio, Parasoul slammed it to the ground. A call to arms rang out for her platoon to begin moving on Adam’s position. With a gun in one hand and her living umbrella, Krieg in the other, she steeled her nerves to face whatever her soldiers had become.
Her intense concentration broke as soon as she heard a pair of screams from behind her. Turning with her gun outstretched, she saw that two of her soldiers had gone missing. The few seconds she turned away allowed another group of soldiers to go missing when they were out of her sight. Frantically turning her head around, she managed to watch the last of her men get snatched up by a set of neon green tendrils and pulled onto the roof above.
Upon seeing the same tentacles reach out for her, Parasoul quickly swept them aside with a slash from Krieg. Though she didn’t have visuals on the enemy, she knew from the reports who it was that was assaulting her. With the hopes of ending the chaos in one swift strike, she ran into the nearby building and began to climb the stairs.
Reaching the rooftop doorway, she carefully peeked out the door. Sure enough, she saw Filia sitting on the edge of the roof with her legs dangling over the side. The self-declared queen of punk was too busy watching the mayhem below and rocking out to the pair of headphones around her ears to notice Parasoul slip out of the staircase. Lining up her shot, Parasoul prepared to make the killing blow.
Parasoul’s focus shattered upon hearing something roll across the ground. Looking behind her, she saw a bundle of spray paint cans with a ticking noise emanating from them. She realized too late the crudely made bomb’s true nature, leaving her at the epicenter of the explosion of tainted paint.
Dropping her weapons, Parasoul stumbled her way out of the paint cloud. Clutching her head, she felt half of her hair fall out and drop to the ground. Feeling where the strands used to reside made it appear that someone had meticulously shaved off that part of her head to leave her with a half-curtain of her scarlet hair. Continuing to examine her new hairdo and the metal studs along her ears almost made her miss the sight of her cross migrating upwards. Reaching out her red-painted nails towards the emblem let her feel it morph into the shape of a skull that wrapped a black, leather choker around her neck.
Putting her finger against the metal skull’s eyes filled her with a surge of adrenaline. The look of worry on her face gradually turned into a sinister grin as she looked down and saw her sweater become covered in a pattern of black and red skulls. Grabbing the collar of her top, she ripped it down the center to show off more of her cleavage. She repeated the act with her skirt, ensuring that the slightest breeze would show off her butt and skull-pattern, red panties to anyone that walked by. Sauntering over atop her leather stilettos, she got Filia’s attention with a poke on her shoulder.
“Nice to finally meet you in person, your majesty,” Parasoul said with an outstretched hand.
“Same,” Filia replied, accepting the handshake. “Although, I’m sure you know that you’re far from royalty now.”
“Whatever,” Parasoul said with a shrug. “All that position got me was a constant stick up my ass. At least now I can let loose. What’s first on the agenda?”
“How about we take a break?” Samson suggested, his voice falling on deaf ears.
“Simple,” Filia said, having become ignorant to Samson’s pleas to stop, “we join the others and ensure this kingdom falls into the hands of its rightful ruler.”
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A flick of a dust coated switch shed some light on the long abandoned lab. Stepping around shattered beakers and machinery, Valentine kept her one uncovered eye open for any sign of the victims of the punk plague. She felt right at home in the collection of leftover experiments and medical equipment, dressed in a set of white nurse scrubs that wouldn’t have looked out of place if it wasn’t for the large opening that showed off her ample cleavage. Her ponytail of blue hair covered by a hat bearing her iconic purplish red cross completed her look and kept dust particles from obscuring her vision as she delved deeper into the facility. Entering the main chamber, she tightened up her gloves and rechecked her collection of weapons as she approached the culprit for the chaos overtaking the Canopy Kingdom.
She had heard rumors of the artifact but had always assumed it was just another folk tale to warn people of the dangers of the Skull Heart. Fiction was revealed to be very terrifying fact as she beheld the tank filled with green goop before her. Taking gingerly steps towards the glass container, her eye immediately locked onto the lump in the center. It resembled a human skull, albeit one with jagged teeth and a series of metal piercings going right through the cranium. Having spent enough time around Marie, Valentine had gained the ability to recognize when she was in the presence of a Skullgirl.
Going through the files left on the desk, Valentine drastically searched for any clues. Skimming through the reports revealed that the remains of the Skullgirl had been claimed after her demise. The event had occurred many years ago, when a girl with strange tastes claimed the Skull Heart as her own and wished to make everyone enjoy her punk lifestyle. A brief stint had the girl tour across the land promoting her self-titled punk music, but it was only a matter of time before she and the Skull Heart got impatient. Unsatisfied with the constant rejection, she used her powers to forcefully spread her influence across the lands.
Staring at what remained of the chaotic Skullgirl, Valentine pondered how the corruption could have spread after being dormant for so long. She got her answer as the skull inside the tube shivered. A collection of bubbles coming from the skull’s eyes floated their way towards an outtake tube at the top. Watching the goo trudge its way through the pipes, she had to assume that there was a leak somewhere topside. Putting aside the unsettling thought that her colleagues would let a critical facility fall into such a rundown state, she focused her attention on looking for an antidote for the plague.
Going through file after file did little to help Valentine’s nerves. When word had reached the Grand Cathedral about the infection, it was a telling sign when Double seemed to disappear out of thin air. With the dire thought of a threat that even frightened a creature like Double hanging over her head, it was understandable when Valentine shuddered at the sound of something moving around in the lab.
Brandishing her bone saw, she turned towards the sound of the lab’s outer doors opening up. The racket of dozens of heavy boots stomping towards her immediately told her that Filia’s followers had entered the building. Considering the pounding music echoing through the corridors, it was only a matter of time before they reached her position. Cursing her luck, she put away her weapon and attempted to grab as many files as she could before she had to make her escape.
Valentine’s outstretched hand was met by a tendril of neon green hair that wrapped around her wrist. Slashing off the lock with a swipe of her bone saw, she leapt back from the table just as one of the punk’s spray paint bombs fell on the desk. Using her face mask as a filter, she kept her distance from the corruptive cloud while trying to ascertain Filia’s location. Her awareness and swift movement allowed her to avoid several more swipes of the hair tentacles, but it was only a matter of time before she slipped up and became ensnared by the punk queen’s tendrils.
“Damn you’re hard to catch,” Filia said as she casually strolled towards Valentine. “My people have been trying to get a hold of you ever since you left the cathedral.”
“Do your worst,” Valentine said. “There will be others after me.”
Filia pulled Valentine up to her to have their faces be inches apart from one another. “That’s what I’m hoping for, dumbass. Could always use some more punks to expand my kingdom. Speaking of which, let’s say we keep my legion of loyal subjects growing.”
Pulling down Valentine’s mask, Filia pressed their mouths together for a sloppy kiss. Left with a layer of tainted lipstick across her face, Valentine’s body began to tremble like so many before her. Upon Filia slapping the mask back onto the ninja nurse’s face, she smirked at the sight of her trademark skulls appearing along the fabric to signal that the changes were taking effect.
Valentine’s hair burst out of its ponytail as it was split down the middle with a pink and blue color scheme. Her hat somehow managed to stay balanced on her head even as it gained a black leather material and the cross changed into the skull that was painted all across New Meridian’s buildings. Valentine’s struggling grew weaker as her scrubs turned black and ripped down the center. Moments before her breasts popped out of her outfit, a layer of fishnet material wrapped around her torso to give her a semblance of modesty. As splotches of pink and blue appeared across her black scrubs, the tendrils holding her arms finally saw fit to release her. Landing with a clack of her leather boots, she looked over her fingerless, leather gloves and shook about the mini-skirt that left very little to the imagination when it came to her backside. Losing herself to the wild beats pumping through the facility, she got down on her knee and bowed towards Filia.
“What can I do for you, my queen?” Valentine asked.
“You can start by trashing this place,” Filia replied. “Just make sure to leave the old lady’s skull intact. We’re going to need her to continue spreading the punk lifestyle.”
“Consider it done.”
Wielding a chainsaw formerly known as her bone saw, the ninja nurse got to work making the lab look even more distraught. She let out unrestrained bouts of laughter as she cut through one table after another. Important documents that had no doubt taken hundreds of man hours to compile were shredded apart in a matter of seconds. Through this chaotic show of ransacking, Filia stood back and enjoyed the fruits of her labor.
“Kid come on. Don’t you think this has gone too far?” Samson pleaded, his voice almost silent to the corrupted girl.
“I told you to shut your trap,” Filia answered, taking her seat on and old desk chair. “When this is over, we’ll have more power than the Skull Heart could ever provide.”
“But what about your past?”
“Screw it,” Filia said, snapping her fingers to get Valentine to take a momentary break to act as her foot rest. “Who needs a past when you have a future like mine?”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Valentine, report,” Filia shouted out from the comfort of the lush throne in the royal palace.
“The labs have made killer progress on the latest tweaks to the paint dispersal weapons,” she replied. “In a few days we’ll let it loose and take care of any stragglers in New Meridian.”
“And how goes spreading our infection to the other kingdoms?” Filia asked towards Parasoul.
“Pathetic,” the former princess replied. “The other armies act like they’ve never seen a fucking war before. They should fall soon enough.”
“Excellent. We’ll have to make sure to welcome the new arrivals with a rocking concert. Get Eliza over to the palace to discuss the performance. Oh, and we’ll have to see about waking up Squigly a little early. Maybe if we take some of the old lady’s goo to her it will-“
“Hey Filia, I-“
Filia reached back to smack Samson. “You are to address me as your queen. How many times do I have to beat that into you?”
“Well ‘your highness’, I’m just trying to warn you about the-“
“YOU!”
Filia and her congregation of subjects turned to acknowledge the strange looking individual sauntering their way towards the throne. The intruder bared a stunning resemblance to her former self, wearing a dark green and grey copy of her old uniform. Looking past the tanned skin and green-painted lips, Filia was immediately drawn to the green colored Samson counterpart sticking out of her head that occasionally released strange particles of glowing energy.
“Who are you?” Filia asked.
“Shut up!” the doppelganger replied. “My name is Fukua. For years that mad scientist Brain Drain kept me locked up while he experimented with making the perfect clone. When he finally got taken over by the plague, I seized the chance to break out and meet the very person I was modeled after.” She stomped her foot and pointed an accusatory finger towards Filia. “I come all this way, only to find you’re nothing like me. The only similarity is that green parasite of yours.”
As Fukua continued to approach the throne with murderous attempt, Parasoul and Valentine began to draw their weapons. Filia dismissed them with a wave of her hand and stood up. “Yeah, that does sound pretty annoying,” Filia said as she walked forward to meet her clone. “Guess I’ll just have to fix that.”
“Yes, we will,” Fukua replied, lunging forward only for her attack to be easily dodged.
As she turned to attack once more, Fukua’s body became ensnared by Filia’s hair. In the blink of an eye, Filia rushed forward to plant a kiss right on her clone’s lips. Pulling away from her doppelganger, Filia returned to her throne just as Fukua’s body began to shiver. Getting comfortable in her seat, she released the intruder from her grasp, and got ready to watch a performance she never grew tired of.
Filia realized something was off when Fukua’s short skirt extended down to the floor and turned a blinding shade of pink. Taking note of the various ribbons and frills attached to the fabric, she watched a similar transformation take hold of Fukua’s top to complete an overly puffy dress. At the same time, Fukua’s nails and lips became hues of glittery pink that matched with the silky, long strands of blonde hair that reached past her knees. Despite her drastic changes and the looks of surprise on her audience’s faces, Fukua picked up the sides of her skirt and curtsied towards Filia.
“I do apologize for my most uncouth interruption, your highness,” Fukua said.
“What the hell is going on?” Filia asked Valentine, receiving a shrug in return.
“If I may,” Fukua spoke up. “It is possible that the nature of my unique origin does not get along well with your plague. Regardless, I do appreciate your attempt to include me in your festivities.”
“Er, you’re welcome,” Filia responded.
“I must say, I am impressed with what you’ve accomplished in such a short amount of time,” Fukua said as she gazed at the various graffiti murals covering the walls. “Especially the décor. I would love to see what you have done with the rest of the palace.”
A smile on her face helped Filia break through her confusion. “I’d be more than happy to give a guided tour.”
“Most excellent,” Fukua said, gently taking Filia’s hand as they began to walk. “Perhaps we can have some tea at the end?”
“Sounds like a pretty rocking idea,” Filia replied, taking her former rival down the halls to show her the various accomplishments of her Kingdom of Punks.
