Two's Company, Three's a Crowd

Nemesis was an empath? That little fact stopped Typhoid in her tracks. Here she was just thinking things and emotions left and right, not realising that the woman was probably getting a shit ton of insanity just thrown at her. And yet, here she was. Not running away or screaming. But then again, Typhoid probably seemed pretty much normal if you compared her to Mary and Bloody. That would definitely be something to talk about later on.

She listened to the reasoning behind keeping Supes alive, and Typhoid couldn't exactly find anything wrong with it. Yeah sure, the whole 'watch as I kill your girlfriend' thing ran the risk of it coming back to bite them in the ass, but hey, hopefully he'd go after Nemesis first and end up with his head ripped off. As for the magic deal, she'd have to take her word for it. The only weakness Typhoid knew about was the kryptonite, which was in short supply on Asgard. And regarding the killer boyfriend... yeah, she was starting to think that Nemesis was just a bit more crazy than she was. Didn't immortals tend to lose their mind after a while? And holy crap, the woman was a mind-reader. Crazier, but able to hide it better? Pfft. Typhoid rolled her eyes at that. Mary had personalities that came and went as they were needed, so Typhoid doubted that Nemesis was the crazier of the two.

Typhoid's mood improved greatly as soon as they ran into the group of Amazons. But instead of replying to her partner, the brunette just unsheathed both of her machetes and dove into the fray. "You can have whichever ones that manage to keep away from me!" she laughed as she hacked away. Typhoid's fighting style was more than a little odd. Rather than standing her ground, she preferred to use her telekinesis to propel her off of walls and people, ricocheting back and forth amongst her enemies and not wanting them to get much of a foothold. Setting their clothes and surroundings on fire also seemed to help add to the confusion. It wasn't that she enjoyed the bloodshed... well, she did, but she didn't live for it. Typhoid just loved the action and the chaos of the battle.

Unfortunately, when Diana grabbed Nemesis, that meant that all the remaining Amazons laid their attention on Typhoid as she waded further into the group. It didn't start as a noticeable difference but gradually, they learned her tactics and began to slowly overwhelm her. Some became intentional targets and baits, allowing others the chance to attack from behind. It also didn't help that they tried to hamstring the brunette. You can't jump around when you can't stand on your legs very well. They didn't quite succeed but fuck, the arrow that pierced the back of her right calf sent a sudden and brief flash of nausea and fear through Typhoid.

Rather than fight it and suppress the urge, she knew that this fight was becoming deadly, so the reckless and chaotic personality that was Typhoid Mary mentally stepped aside, allowing Bloody a chance at everything.

Her motions were no longer flashy and distracting. They became swift and precise, with a mortal wound landing on every opponent stupid enough to stay close. The Amazons soon realised that one, their target was not the same person they had thought she was and two, their leader's head had just been knocked cleanly from her shoulders. Rather than rage further war, the remaining survivors gathered their wounded and quickly retreated. Bloody didn't follow.

Instead she turned and looked at her partner, the woman Nemesis. She studied her for a few moments, as if seeing her with new eyes and evaluating her for the first time, which was true for the most part. Removing the arrow from her own calf and bandaging it quickly with cloth from a dead Amazon's cloak, Bloody limped over to Nemesis and examined her wound. "Sit," she said, reaching into a jacket pocket and pulling out a small portable medical kit. It wasn't something that was used often, but it sometimes came in handy when either Typhoid or Bloody were too far from home. "Sit!" she ordered again, sending the mental compulsion to obey as well as putting her hands on Nemesis' shoulders to physically push her down. She wasn't about to have to woman be stupid and pass out from blood loss. Although it would likely make the stitching easier.

Cutting away the fabric from the wounds, Bloody cleaned them as best she could before sewing them shut with precise and neat little stitches. Did she have medical training? No, just attention to detail. Bandaging them up depleted practically everything from her medkit, but it did the job. "Now what?" she asked, looking from Nemesis to the dead Amazons and princess.

The look Bloody gave Nemesis when she nonchalantly mentioned that she had super-fast healing powers was pure murder. It wasn't like modern medical supplies grew on trees in Asgard. Bloody had practically wasted it all on a pointless act. She had half a mind just to cut the wound back open and let the woman bleed out until the hour or so was up. But then again she would either be lugging the unconscious body around or likely end up exactly like Wonder Woman. Neither was something Bloody liked the thought of doing. "Next time? Tell us what you can and can't do. It saves time," she growled.

Bloody eyed Nemesis warily when she asked about drinking and staying at her house, alluding to the fact that there was more than one Mary in the brunette's head. Not that Bloody cared that she knew. Typhoid got annoyed and little Mary hated it when people found out about her problem, but not Bloody. "Mary doesn't have a place to stay. Not exactly. So your place or drinking is best."

Rather than react when Superman showed up again, or object when he grabbed Nemesis by the throat, Bloody just quietly studied and watched him. She wasn't a fool and knew exactly what he was capable of doing. However, seeing him killed like that did surprise the woman. It was an odd thing to get used to; there being a sword sharp enough to slice a man who shrugged off bullets like they were raindrops.

Gathering up what little she had, Bloody quickly followed her partner away from the scene of the slaughter. "Talk to who you like. Typhoid would be best. I'll still hear the information, but she would care more and the little virgin would be too scared," Bloody commented as they ran. When they reached their destination, it took a few moments, but Typhoid found herself blinking and feeling more sore than she remembered. "Oh, hey, looks like we survived after all. And you got yourself a souvenir," she said, pointing to the golden lasso.

Bloody could have argued with the woman, saying that she was the one who either didn't act fast enough to warn her or tell her what she could do in the first place. Hell, for all Bloody knew, Nemesis could have been exactly like Superman but with a sword. Either way, it didn't matter. What was done was done. As far as surviving without the modern medical supplies, it all honestly depended on how you wanted to survive and what medical supplies you needed. But then again, Bloody didn't need or want straightjackets and medical suppressants, so she supposed that she shouldn't argue.

Actually, despite what Nemesis thought, both Typhoid and Bloody could have kept up with her running across the rooftops; it was how she and Daredevil or Spider-Man would play tag so often in NYC. But perhaps a small part of her was grateful for small blessings, since as she ran, her calf did ache and burn, hindering her movements ever so slightly and ruining her concentration. Having that pain happen while jumping between buildings forty or more feet in the air was not a good thing.

"I would love it if you took a look at my leg," Typhoid answered. "The less Mary needs to worry about, the happier we'll all be." That said, she removed her boots upon entering. That was done out of ease of comfort and politeness. Just because Typhoid was a crazy person for hire that didn't mean she didn't have manners. Of course she only used them around people she liked. So Nemesis was in for a rare treat.

"What sort of disappointment and why is it a problem?" And why the hell couldn't her life be easy, if only for a few months? Rather than run the risk of getting blood all over her couch, Typhoid took a seat at the kitchen table, propping her injured leg on another chair.

Typhoid was quiet and cooperative as Nemesis tended to her injury, not even flinching as the stitches were put in. As for the light blue goo she slathered on afterwards, the brunette just shrugged. "You don't need to explain things to me. I trust you. Which, if you're wondering, is a rare thing for me to say." Trust was an odd thing for any of the three women inside Mary Walker. Bloody only thought in terms of usefulness and protectiveness, Typhoid actually tended to think on and weigh every option before deciding if she could trust said person, and Mary? All the person had to say was that they were nice and, nine times out of ten, she believed them.

"Great, so this is a case of invasion of the body-snatchers?" she asked after hearing the explanation. "Is it only dead things they can take over or can they do live people as well?" She was not planning on being taken so easily by some damn alien race. Plus, who knew, maybe her little personality problem would keep her safe. "You've seen how we fight. Yeah, it ain't exactly polished and precise most of the time, but hell, I held my own against those Amazons. I'll help you as much as I can for as long as I can." It's not like she had anything better to do in Asgard. It also meant she'd get a roof over her head for the foreseeable future.

"I don't snoop. None of us do. Trust me, privacy is a thing we can all appreciate, Nemesis. And I'll try to keep the in-fighting down to a minimum." They were like sisters, the three of them. And like sisters, they didn't always get along. But then if they did, life would get boring.