Mission the Second - 'Get Over It'
Mission the Second: 'Get Over It' by authoraisarete
H2G2 'fic. Which contains wangsty!Zaphod, luster-mode!Flip, and sick!Rez, and which introduces the Whisk.
“For Zarquon’s sake do something about that noise, will you?” Rez demanded from behind a tissue.
While her partner blew her nose loudly, Flip brought up their next assignment on the console screen. The high-pitched beeping continued.
“All right, you gods-cursed thing, I’m working on it, so put a sock in it already,” the diminutive girl shouted. The noise persisted. Flip dove for the partially-unpacked weapons bag and fetched out a three-foot whisk. “Don’t make me use this,” she threatened.
Beeeeeeep! went the console, defiantly.
“You asked for it,” she muttered. She hefted the whisk and gave the console a sharp poke. It shut up. “Nothing can resist the Whisk,” Flip gloated.
Rez blinked at her.
“Wait, no, I tell a lie,” Flip corrected herself. “Canon weapons beat it. Wouldn’t stand up to, say, Anduril. Or Tetsusaiga. Can I have Tolkien and anime in the same comparison?” she rambled.
“Flip,” Rez sighed, “why do you have an outsize whisk?”
“Dunno,” her partner shrugged. “I got it for my birthday. What’s this fic?” She bent over to read the screen.
There was a lengthy pause, during which Flip’s face took on a look of despair. Finally, she straightened, her mouth set in a grim line, and brought the whisk smashing down on the console table. A sizeable part of the plywood table splintered, and the keyboard sparked and died.
There was another lengthy pause.
“…Violent much?” Rez eeped.
Flip took a deep breath, composing herself. “I overreacted a little. But they messed,” she said evenly, “with Zaphod. I hate it when they mess with Zaphod.”
“How can you, even?” Rez mused. “He’s probably the easiest character to get a handle on.”
“Eheh. ‘Get a handle on,’” Flip smirked, temporarily reverting to luster-mode.
“If we hadn’t just gotten here, I’d swear up and down you’d been talking to the Bad Slashers,” Rez sighed, and blew her nose again.
“I’ll do the portal,” said Flip, ignoring her partner. “You round up the gear.” She sidled over and tapped buttons, muttering to herself. “‘S difficult to align portals with badly defined places. This could be anywhere in the galaxy… can this console do Improbability?”
“Doubtful.” Rez rummaged through Flip’s box of books and came up with the hardbound Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide. “This’ll do for an exorcism, I think.” She deposited the hefty volume in her canvas pack. “Now let’s see…canon analysis device, neuralizer, remote activator, chalk, headphones, translator, weapons- Flip, can I borrow a dagger?”
“Yeah, sure,” Flip said absently, still occupied with the portal. “I’m bringing the Whisk, it’s just weird enough to work. Alright, I got it, let’s move.”
Rez wiggled. “I’m moving.”
“Haha, ha,” Flip monotoned. “I mean let’s go.” Rez shouldered the pack, Flip hefted her whisk, and the two agents stepped through into a Generic Somewhere.
“Eurgh,” commented Rez. “Where even are we?”
Flip gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Beats me. The Words don’t say. But look, there are ‘happy people’ passing..”
“I’ll say it again: eurgh. Where’s our man then?” Rez looked to her side, where Flip ought to have been, but Flip was gone. Rez caught sight of her stalking along the edge of the apparent street, where the badly-defined people were walking back and forth. “Whoops. Follow the fangirl,” she muttered, and set off after her wayward partner.
“Ssh,” Flip cautioned as Rez caught up. “There he is…” Sitting at a small table, two arms crossed and one propping up one chin, looking dejected on the right head and vaguely angry on the left, was Zaphod Beeblebrox, erstwhile President of the Galaxy and all-around hoopy frood. Apart from the body language, he didn’t look a lot different, but Flip could sense a wrongness in the air around him. “What have they done to you…?” she breathed.
As Zaphod stared sullenly at the passing people, and Flip stared at Zaphod, Rez fetched out the CAD. Unlike her partner, who was originally a character herself, Rez hadn’t developed a sensitivity to canon wrongness quite yet. She pointed the CAD.
Bip. Zaphod Beeblebrox. Canon. Betelgeusian male. OOC 73.8% WARNING CHARACTER RUPTURE IMMINENT! scrolled across the screen. Rez sighed with relief- she’d been expecting more loud noises. She stowed the CAD back in her pack.
‘Get over it, Zaphod,’ boomed a voice in the air all around them. Both agents jumped. Zaphod flinched.
‘And there’s the loud noise,’ Rez thought. ‘Thank you, Ironic Overpower.’
‘Get over it,’ a second voice shrieked. Flip covered her ears. Zaphod’s angry look grew darker, and his dejected look intensified.
‘Get over it,’ yet a third voice thundered.
Flip suddenly started, her eyes wide. “Rez, hold onto something, there’s going to be a--”
The world gave a sickening heave. The ‘happy people’ vanished. The Generic Somewhere stretched and resolved itself into Zaphod’s room on the Heart of Gold.
“--scene shift,” Flip finished lamely.
“I’m going to be sick,” Rez groaned.
“Ugh, the wrongness is worse in here,” murmured Flip. The shorter agent was already concentrating on the two-headed man. Rez pulled out the CAD again.
Bip. Zaphod Beeblebrox. Canon. OOC 86.9% and rising. DANGER-- She lowered it, disgusted.
Zaphod picked up a knife. “Oh no,” Flip whispered, tensing up. “No no no, don’t do it, Zaphod baby, please please please don’t…”
“I don’t want to get over it!” Zaphod told the voices. The two agents watched helplessly as he ‘cut into the soft skin of his arm.’
Flip subsided, slumping to the floor. “Oh, Zarquon, I can’t look,” she whimpered.
WARNING! COMPLETE CHARACTER RUPTURE! OOC 100%! shrilled the CAD.
‘Get over it,’ chorused the voices. Zaphod cut again and again and again as, unseen, Rez watched numbly.
‘Get over it,’ the voices repeated. There was a long pause. The CAD whined on like a flatline, thin and high in the silence, until Rez gave it a shake and it shut up.
Flip looked up. “Is it over?” she whispered.
“Almost,” the blue-haired agent whispered back. “Just the exorcism left, and I have a plan for that. Can you watch him? I have to get to the bridge before the next scene.” Flip nodded, fixing a brave look on her face.
“Just get over it, you idiot,” Zaphod told himself. “You’re worthless. Just accept it. Move on.”
“You are not worthless!” Flip hissed, as her partner quietly let herself out.
While Flip kept an eye on Zaphod, Rez bolted for the bridge. She portaled herself in, rather than risk the door announcing her presence, and set to work chalking a wide circle around Zaphod’s chair. She spared glances only at the Words and at Ford Prefect, the only other occupant of the bridge. Just in time, she finished, leaving a gap just wide enough for Zaphod to walk through.
The story gave another hideous heave, accompanied this time by a violent sideways wrenching, and Zaphod and Flip appeared at the door.
Rez scoots sideways as Zaphod walks to his chair. “What the-” she starts, looking quizzically at her partner.
“Tense shift,” Flip explains. “Heads up, this is where we come in.”
“Are you alright?” Ford asks, looking at Zaphod worriedly. Zaphod sits down and opens his mouth to reply that everything’s fine--
“No, he’s most definitely not alright,” Flip says. Ford and Zaphod stare in surprise.
Rez closes the circle and stands up. “Oh, starpox,” she mutters. “We’re still in present tense.” The canons double-take at her as she digs a thick hardbound book out of her bag.
“Where did you guys come from?” Ford is astonished.
“We’re here to help,” Rez assures him, not really answering his question. She holds out the book to Flip. “I’ll charge if you want to exorcise,” the taller agent offers.
“With pleasure,” Flip grins, taking the book and advancing on Zaphod. “Demons, leave this body!” she shouts, whacking Zaphod around the chest. “The spirit of Adams compels thee! Get thee behind me, Wangst! By the power of Canon, begone!”
A ghostly female form coalesces. Free of its influence, Zaphod wheels his chair backwards out of the circle. Shrieking, the fangirl-spirit moves to follow him, but flattens against the chalk circle.
“It worked!” Rez cheers. “Now for the charges- oh, pestilence, I forgot to write them down- I’ll do it from memory. Demon of Bad Angst,” she intones, “you are charged with creating a Generic Somewhere, giving Zaphod a second set of voices in his head, employing painful scene/tense shifts, spontaneously generating cutlery, and most heinous of all, destroying the character of Zaphod Beeblebrox and causing him undue bodily harm. The punishment is death. You have no rights, nor do you get last words.” Rez grins evilly. “Flip. Your turn.”
She backs away. Flip raises the Whisk and swings it through the circle. The fangirl-demon screams, curling into thin wisps of smoke that dissipate quickly in the air.
Rez looked around. “Hey, we’re back in past tense,” she observed. “Thank Zarquon. Present weirds me out.”
“Oh man,” Zaphod was muttering, “oh man, this is weird even for me..” He caught sight his arm, scored with cuts, and both of his faces went very pale.
“He needs to get to Medical,” Flip nudged Rez and said.
“As soon as I take care of this,” Rez replied, holding up the neuralizer. Both agents covered their eyes as Rez pressed a button and a bright flash went off. Ford and Zaphod lost their looks of confusion and shock and regarded the agents mildly.
“Right,” Rez said, with a small cough. “Ford, you haven’t noticed anything weirder than usual. Go get yourself a drink and everything will be fine.” She watched as Ford got up, nodding to himself, and left in the direction of the kitchen. “Zaphod,” she continued, “you are an amazingly hoopy frood, you have absolutely no reason to doubt that fact, and you hurt yourself doing something fun. If you’ll come with us, we’ll take you to someone who can fix it.”
Flip got the remote activator out of Rez’s pack and fiddled with it until she got a portal into the medical department at Headquarters. “Here we are. After you, Mr. President.”
“So what planet are you two from, anyway?” Zaphod asked, very much back to his old self, as Rez escorted him over to the portal. Flip promptly went a bright shade of red, mumbling something incoherent.
Rez gave a loud cough that sounded suspiciously like “Trillian!” as the two agents and the ex-President stepped through into Medical.
“Hii, Dr. Fitzgerald!” Rez caroled cheerily- or at least as far as it’s possible for an agent with a cold to do so. “We brought a visitor!”
The harried-looking head of Medical looked at Zaphod with mild surprise. Zaphod grinned two grins at him.
“What-” Dr. Fitzgerald began.
Flip stood on tiptoe to whisper the situation to him, not wanting to upset Zaphod by repeating the events of the badfic.
“Ah,” said the doctor. He glanced at Zaphod again, who gave him the signature snap-point sign. “Hm, I see. He may need some stitches, but it shouldn’t be too serious.”
“And I may need some cold medication,” Rez cut in, coughing pointedly. “Just by the way.”
Irritated, Dr. Fitzgerald got a bottle of dark liquid out of a cabinet and handed it to her. “There. Don’t take more than two doses of that per day, it’ll make you too sleepy to work. Now both of you, get back to your response center. I’ll handle this.”
“Thank you,” Flip told him, feelingly. “’Bye,” she added, with a shy wave at Zaphod.
“Hey, see you ‘round.” Zaphod winked at the agents, causing Flip to go red again.
“Yeah.. I mean, maybe.. if..” she stammered.
Rez seized the opportunity to drag her distracted partner out the door. Before Flip regained her senses, they were back at the gray door marked RC #1020.
“Wait, what- how did we- huh?”
“Eh, I can’t explain it properly,” Rez said unhelpfully.
Bip, went the console as they entered.
“Weird, it’s being nice,” Flip commented, ambling over to look at the screen. “Oh. Not a mission, just a memo from the SO.”
“And that’s nice?” Rez groaned, following her partner.
Agents Rez and Flip, read the memo, it has come to our attention that you are working at least part-time in the continuum of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. As such, you are expected to attend an emergency screening of the motion picture of the same name, in the Little Auditorium in exactly one hour. I would remind you that this is field research and NOT a vacation.
Regards,
The Sunflower Official.
“You were saying?” Flip grinned. “Sounds like fun to me.”
Rez tossed her bottle of cough syrup from hand to hand idly, reading the memo. “Don’t let the Ironic Overpower hear you say that. C’mon, let’s go early so we can get good seats!”
H2G2 'fic. Which contains wangsty!Zaphod, luster-mode!Flip, and sick!Rez, and which introduces the Whisk.
“For Zarquon’s sake do something about that noise, will you?” Rez demanded from behind a tissue.
While her partner blew her nose loudly, Flip brought up their next assignment on the console screen. The high-pitched beeping continued.
“All right, you gods-cursed thing, I’m working on it, so put a sock in it already,” the diminutive girl shouted. The noise persisted. Flip dove for the partially-unpacked weapons bag and fetched out a three-foot whisk. “Don’t make me use this,” she threatened.
Beeeeeeep! went the console, defiantly.
“You asked for it,” she muttered. She hefted the whisk and gave the console a sharp poke. It shut up. “Nothing can resist the Whisk,” Flip gloated.
Rez blinked at her.
“Wait, no, I tell a lie,” Flip corrected herself. “Canon weapons beat it. Wouldn’t stand up to, say, Anduril. Or Tetsusaiga. Can I have Tolkien and anime in the same comparison?” she rambled.
“Flip,” Rez sighed, “why do you have an outsize whisk?”
“Dunno,” her partner shrugged. “I got it for my birthday. What’s this fic?” She bent over to read the screen.
There was a lengthy pause, during which Flip’s face took on a look of despair. Finally, she straightened, her mouth set in a grim line, and brought the whisk smashing down on the console table. A sizeable part of the plywood table splintered, and the keyboard sparked and died.
There was another lengthy pause.
“…Violent much?” Rez eeped.
Flip took a deep breath, composing herself. “I overreacted a little. But they messed,” she said evenly, “with Zaphod. I hate it when they mess with Zaphod.”
“How can you, even?” Rez mused. “He’s probably the easiest character to get a handle on.”
“Eheh. ‘Get a handle on,’” Flip smirked, temporarily reverting to luster-mode.
“If we hadn’t just gotten here, I’d swear up and down you’d been talking to the Bad Slashers,” Rez sighed, and blew her nose again.
“I’ll do the portal,” said Flip, ignoring her partner. “You round up the gear.” She sidled over and tapped buttons, muttering to herself. “‘S difficult to align portals with badly defined places. This could be anywhere in the galaxy… can this console do Improbability?”
“Doubtful.” Rez rummaged through Flip’s box of books and came up with the hardbound Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide. “This’ll do for an exorcism, I think.” She deposited the hefty volume in her canvas pack. “Now let’s see…canon analysis device, neuralizer, remote activator, chalk, headphones, translator, weapons- Flip, can I borrow a dagger?”
“Yeah, sure,” Flip said absently, still occupied with the portal. “I’m bringing the Whisk, it’s just weird enough to work. Alright, I got it, let’s move.”
Rez wiggled. “I’m moving.”
“Haha, ha,” Flip monotoned. “I mean let’s go.” Rez shouldered the pack, Flip hefted her whisk, and the two agents stepped through into a Generic Somewhere.
“Eurgh,” commented Rez. “Where even are we?”
Flip gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Beats me. The Words don’t say. But look, there are ‘happy people’ passing..”
“I’ll say it again: eurgh. Where’s our man then?” Rez looked to her side, where Flip ought to have been, but Flip was gone. Rez caught sight of her stalking along the edge of the apparent street, where the badly-defined people were walking back and forth. “Whoops. Follow the fangirl,” she muttered, and set off after her wayward partner.
“Ssh,” Flip cautioned as Rez caught up. “There he is…” Sitting at a small table, two arms crossed and one propping up one chin, looking dejected on the right head and vaguely angry on the left, was Zaphod Beeblebrox, erstwhile President of the Galaxy and all-around hoopy frood. Apart from the body language, he didn’t look a lot different, but Flip could sense a wrongness in the air around him. “What have they done to you…?” she breathed.
As Zaphod stared sullenly at the passing people, and Flip stared at Zaphod, Rez fetched out the CAD. Unlike her partner, who was originally a character herself, Rez hadn’t developed a sensitivity to canon wrongness quite yet. She pointed the CAD.
Bip. Zaphod Beeblebrox. Canon. Betelgeusian male. OOC 73.8% WARNING CHARACTER RUPTURE IMMINENT! scrolled across the screen. Rez sighed with relief- she’d been expecting more loud noises. She stowed the CAD back in her pack.
‘Get over it, Zaphod,’ boomed a voice in the air all around them. Both agents jumped. Zaphod flinched.
‘And there’s the loud noise,’ Rez thought. ‘Thank you, Ironic Overpower.’
‘Get over it,’ a second voice shrieked. Flip covered her ears. Zaphod’s angry look grew darker, and his dejected look intensified.
‘Get over it,’ yet a third voice thundered.
Flip suddenly started, her eyes wide. “Rez, hold onto something, there’s going to be a--”
The world gave a sickening heave. The ‘happy people’ vanished. The Generic Somewhere stretched and resolved itself into Zaphod’s room on the Heart of Gold.
“--scene shift,” Flip finished lamely.
“I’m going to be sick,” Rez groaned.
“Ugh, the wrongness is worse in here,” murmured Flip. The shorter agent was already concentrating on the two-headed man. Rez pulled out the CAD again.
Bip. Zaphod Beeblebrox. Canon. OOC 86.9% and rising. DANGER-- She lowered it, disgusted.
Zaphod picked up a knife. “Oh no,” Flip whispered, tensing up. “No no no, don’t do it, Zaphod baby, please please please don’t…”
“I don’t want to get over it!” Zaphod told the voices. The two agents watched helplessly as he ‘cut into the soft skin of his arm.’
Flip subsided, slumping to the floor. “Oh, Zarquon, I can’t look,” she whimpered.
WARNING! COMPLETE CHARACTER RUPTURE! OOC 100%! shrilled the CAD.
‘Get over it,’ chorused the voices. Zaphod cut again and again and again as, unseen, Rez watched numbly.
‘Get over it,’ the voices repeated. There was a long pause. The CAD whined on like a flatline, thin and high in the silence, until Rez gave it a shake and it shut up.
Flip looked up. “Is it over?” she whispered.
“Almost,” the blue-haired agent whispered back. “Just the exorcism left, and I have a plan for that. Can you watch him? I have to get to the bridge before the next scene.” Flip nodded, fixing a brave look on her face.
“Just get over it, you idiot,” Zaphod told himself. “You’re worthless. Just accept it. Move on.”
“You are not worthless!” Flip hissed, as her partner quietly let herself out.
While Flip kept an eye on Zaphod, Rez bolted for the bridge. She portaled herself in, rather than risk the door announcing her presence, and set to work chalking a wide circle around Zaphod’s chair. She spared glances only at the Words and at Ford Prefect, the only other occupant of the bridge. Just in time, she finished, leaving a gap just wide enough for Zaphod to walk through.
The story gave another hideous heave, accompanied this time by a violent sideways wrenching, and Zaphod and Flip appeared at the door.
Rez scoots sideways as Zaphod walks to his chair. “What the-” she starts, looking quizzically at her partner.
“Tense shift,” Flip explains. “Heads up, this is where we come in.”
“Are you alright?” Ford asks, looking at Zaphod worriedly. Zaphod sits down and opens his mouth to reply that everything’s fine--
“No, he’s most definitely not alright,” Flip says. Ford and Zaphod stare in surprise.
Rez closes the circle and stands up. “Oh, starpox,” she mutters. “We’re still in present tense.” The canons double-take at her as she digs a thick hardbound book out of her bag.
“Where did you guys come from?” Ford is astonished.
“We’re here to help,” Rez assures him, not really answering his question. She holds out the book to Flip. “I’ll charge if you want to exorcise,” the taller agent offers.
“With pleasure,” Flip grins, taking the book and advancing on Zaphod. “Demons, leave this body!” she shouts, whacking Zaphod around the chest. “The spirit of Adams compels thee! Get thee behind me, Wangst! By the power of Canon, begone!”
A ghostly female form coalesces. Free of its influence, Zaphod wheels his chair backwards out of the circle. Shrieking, the fangirl-spirit moves to follow him, but flattens against the chalk circle.
“It worked!” Rez cheers. “Now for the charges- oh, pestilence, I forgot to write them down- I’ll do it from memory. Demon of Bad Angst,” she intones, “you are charged with creating a Generic Somewhere, giving Zaphod a second set of voices in his head, employing painful scene/tense shifts, spontaneously generating cutlery, and most heinous of all, destroying the character of Zaphod Beeblebrox and causing him undue bodily harm. The punishment is death. You have no rights, nor do you get last words.” Rez grins evilly. “Flip. Your turn.”
She backs away. Flip raises the Whisk and swings it through the circle. The fangirl-demon screams, curling into thin wisps of smoke that dissipate quickly in the air.
Rez looked around. “Hey, we’re back in past tense,” she observed. “Thank Zarquon. Present weirds me out.”
“Oh man,” Zaphod was muttering, “oh man, this is weird even for me..” He caught sight his arm, scored with cuts, and both of his faces went very pale.
“He needs to get to Medical,” Flip nudged Rez and said.
“As soon as I take care of this,” Rez replied, holding up the neuralizer. Both agents covered their eyes as Rez pressed a button and a bright flash went off. Ford and Zaphod lost their looks of confusion and shock and regarded the agents mildly.
“Right,” Rez said, with a small cough. “Ford, you haven’t noticed anything weirder than usual. Go get yourself a drink and everything will be fine.” She watched as Ford got up, nodding to himself, and left in the direction of the kitchen. “Zaphod,” she continued, “you are an amazingly hoopy frood, you have absolutely no reason to doubt that fact, and you hurt yourself doing something fun. If you’ll come with us, we’ll take you to someone who can fix it.”
Flip got the remote activator out of Rez’s pack and fiddled with it until she got a portal into the medical department at Headquarters. “Here we are. After you, Mr. President.”
“So what planet are you two from, anyway?” Zaphod asked, very much back to his old self, as Rez escorted him over to the portal. Flip promptly went a bright shade of red, mumbling something incoherent.
Rez gave a loud cough that sounded suspiciously like “Trillian!” as the two agents and the ex-President stepped through into Medical.
“Hii, Dr. Fitzgerald!” Rez caroled cheerily- or at least as far as it’s possible for an agent with a cold to do so. “We brought a visitor!”
The harried-looking head of Medical looked at Zaphod with mild surprise. Zaphod grinned two grins at him.
“What-” Dr. Fitzgerald began.
Flip stood on tiptoe to whisper the situation to him, not wanting to upset Zaphod by repeating the events of the badfic.
“Ah,” said the doctor. He glanced at Zaphod again, who gave him the signature snap-point sign. “Hm, I see. He may need some stitches, but it shouldn’t be too serious.”
“And I may need some cold medication,” Rez cut in, coughing pointedly. “Just by the way.”
Irritated, Dr. Fitzgerald got a bottle of dark liquid out of a cabinet and handed it to her. “There. Don’t take more than two doses of that per day, it’ll make you too sleepy to work. Now both of you, get back to your response center. I’ll handle this.”
“Thank you,” Flip told him, feelingly. “’Bye,” she added, with a shy wave at Zaphod.
“Hey, see you ‘round.” Zaphod winked at the agents, causing Flip to go red again.
“Yeah.. I mean, maybe.. if..” she stammered.
Rez seized the opportunity to drag her distracted partner out the door. Before Flip regained her senses, they were back at the gray door marked RC #1020.
“Wait, what- how did we- huh?”
“Eh, I can’t explain it properly,” Rez said unhelpfully.
Bip, went the console as they entered.
“Weird, it’s being nice,” Flip commented, ambling over to look at the screen. “Oh. Not a mission, just a memo from the SO.”
“And that’s nice?” Rez groaned, following her partner.
Agents Rez and Flip, read the memo, it has come to our attention that you are working at least part-time in the continuum of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. As such, you are expected to attend an emergency screening of the motion picture of the same name, in the Little Auditorium in exactly one hour. I would remind you that this is field research and NOT a vacation.
Regards,
The Sunflower Official.
“You were saying?” Flip grinned. “Sounds like fun to me.”
Rez tossed her bottle of cough syrup from hand to hand idly, reading the memo. “Don’t let the Ironic Overpower hear you say that. C’mon, let’s go early so we can get good seats!”