Tripe: A Mary Sue Satirical
By: Viridian Ink, Produced by The Lightning's Hand.
CHAPTER ONE: Preparation of the Tripe.
An Author's Note: Hello, It is grand to meet you, quite so! My pen name, as you can see, is Viridian Ink, though I will accept the calling "Vi", or even "Vivi".
It's funny how things sometimes work out, mm? When I began putting this to pen and paper for my rite of passage onto the site- at least, it seems like a rite, piecing this together, a Mary Sue Fan fiction... there are so many here, from what I can see, even a C2 Group! Regardless, a thought struck me, during the process…
Why shovel out such terrible drivel?! Certainly, I know the bar is low, but I could put together a decent opus, and put together this rite with little to no squabbling! Joyous. With this in mind, my precious audience, I present to you the first chapter of 'Tripe!', or, as it may be called, 'James Harper and the Ancient Magical School'!
Chugga chug chug… chug chug chugga! The roar of an old fashioned scarlet train sped, swifter than a bullet, down its' path, cutting across the hidden track. The destination seemed unreachable- it had set off on this trek in the early afternoon, but orange and purples had pierced the sky, for the evening had set.
However, this story would be very boring if it was about a train, now wouldn't it? Of course it would. Fortunately, our main target dwelled in this very locomotive. Hidden in the back of the train, in the very last compartment, dwelled a girl, clothing compromised a long, billowing black robe. What appeared to be a narrow strip of wood was tucked behind her ear, and to fit this odd personal décor, she had a necklace, made of corks. Most of this was obscured, however, but dirty blonde hair that fell to her back. Her face was hidden behind an oddly sideways magazine.
The second of this pair had a similar, dotty air- though this probably was due to him sitting upside down, than anything as physical as the girl. He crossed his legs to keep his own robe from falling, and seemed to be bored, and sighed- having enough force in his exhaling to blow his mahogany brown bangs out of his eyes.
Chugga chugga chug chug… "That noise was, at one point, charming… I'd rather just be there, already! Are we-"He was on the verge of asking something, but the girl had been quick to cut him off. "You have asked seventeen times during our voyage." Her voice had an odd, misty quality to it. Was it natural, or forced? "But the answer is still 'no, we're not there yet.'" The voice rung from behind the rag, and died down.
The boy became miffed at her words. The whole time he had been trying to speak with the girl, but she only seemed to answer at all when he asked that question. Surely that magazine couldn't be that important- and it was a bit rude, that she even kept it up when she spoke. He righted himself, grumbling as this involved falling on the floor, and strode over. He pulled down her magazine gently to take in her appearance, (Pale faced, to match her brows, which gave her a fine surprised expression at the moment, and silvery eyes which he could've sworn he saw his own hazel in) and asked, "How can you be so sure?"
The girl looked him over, considering silently for a few moments. She set her magazine down, and looking at the windows, said "We're still moving." As if on cue, however, the train stopped with a lurch- the sudden transition of moving to not caused the boy to fall, face first, into the wall. As he pulled himself up, he noted the girl was gone. "Well, she's friendly", he muttered, as he left the compartment.
The walk off the train was relatively difficult- a jumble developed in one of the exits. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to be the first off. A girl taller than him with bushy brown hair tried to make a single file line, but her attempts and the problem were both solved instantly- two even taller boys, which matching red hair, tossed two walnut sized, brown balls into the throng, which immediately gave the smell of… heh. Screaming, the children burst through at alarming numbers. Our boy was the last off.
"Ick, double dungbombing", he muttered, hopping off the train while doing his best to not breathe. Once free, he shook his head of the aroma- though now it became filled with a booming voice. Despite himself, he followed it- and gave a gasp when he found its' source.
Before a body of water seemed to be the result of several men, put together. His boot size suggested he could stomp them all by the dozen if he wished- as the boy noticed the other children his size had followed the voice, too- or stamped them with his immense palms. Save for a bulby nose, and glistening black eyes, his face and head were obscured by a great beard, and black hair to match. The rest of him was hidden in an immense, fuzzy overcoat. He gave a last cry of "Firs' years ov' here!" before looking down at the all, with a friendly grin. "Righ'!" He stepped to the right, revealing a bounty of smallish boats, save for his own, of course. "Three to a boat, and no pushin' an'one in, eh? Call me if yeh fall- m'name's Hagrid. FORWARD!", he ended the words with, as the first years clambered in- the boats bounded off on their own accord.
Luck struck the boy- he had taken the same boat as the girl on the train from before! …Though his second ride-along seemed to not know the concept of being silent. He decided to ignore him for the now, taking instead to rap the girl on the shoulder gently, so as to gain her attention (she was in that magazine again). "Are you okay, did that hurt?" She gazed at him blankly, before he said haughtily, "That's generally what you say when someone gets hurt."
The girl still seemed to show nothing but the same blankness, before slight
comprehension cracked at her features. "I'm sorry, you were, though, showing signs of being afflicted by the Zuugruu Delirious Disease." The boy tilted his head in a doggish style, and replied with "Jigga what, now?"
At once her comprehension turned into fervor, finding someone to enlighten about this ailment. "You didn't know? It's a very contagious disease, which forces the bearer into a violent rampage! Here, look-"She turned her magazine to face him, revealing the reason for the sideways holding: a picture had been drawn there, fairly unprofessional, that depicted a mad man with swirl eyes beating on another, smaller person. "Impatience, clumsiness, those are just two of the main identifications on the Delirium." She finished her words with what seemed like a sagely nod.
"Well, I'm pretty sure that I'm not ailed by it… er, what is your name, anyway?" He felt slightly foolish, though this lack of knowledge had no reason- that girl had ignored him the whole train ride. "It's Luna Lovegood- since you don't have Z.D.D, it is very nice to meet you." Luna nodded, and shook his hand when he held it out. "James Harper, and same. Are we-"
His words, however, were forced to wait. Hagrid had cried out, to acquire everyone's attention. "HOGWARTS, HO!" The effect on the amassed children was instant- their
conversations died out into gasps and words of impression, as an immense castle came into full view. It was furnished in turrets, towers, and all manner of things, finally topped with a ritzy gate, and huge wooden door, which was atleast two feet taller than Hagrid himself.
Unfortunately, this also had set the chattering child off like a bomb. He began throwing off random conversational notes at top speed, from the weather, to magic. He continued along this vein for the longest time, until James finally pushed him into the lake, agitated.
"That wasn't very nice." Luna said from behind her magazine, but nothing further. The kid was tossed back from the lake, looking terrified, but oddly delighted. He crossed his arms in what he assumed was a 'dignified' manner, though the effect was ruined by Hagrid tossing his big coat on him, to dry off with.
"We're disembarkin'! C'me on, nah!" The boats hit the land, and the children followed the huge man quietly- almost stiffly so. He gripped the doors by their ornate handles, and pushed them open without so much of an effort.
The doors opened at once- though, was this a good thing? A woman stood before them all, wearing and expression that gave James the impression she would not mind punching them all in the nose, one by one. She peered through them all with that same piercing gaze, before looking up to Hagrid, who said, simply, "Th' firs' years, Professor McGonagall.". She responded in a crisp voice of thanks, and instructed the gaggle of children to follow her- of which no one took hesitation.
Unlike the walk with Hagrid, who seemed to be teeming with jolly and joyousness, Professor McGonagall was stiff, and seemingly easily irritable. James heard voices as the continued their trek- were the finally at its' end? They passed another pair of large doors, of which the voices were their loudest, but she kept on walking, uneasily silent; he wished she would say something, this was worse than company with Luna. At last, she walked down to a smaller chamber on the side of the source of the voices, which held a distinctly smaller door. "You will wait here until we are ready for you- the ceremony will take only a few moments to prepare. I would suggest you take the time to clean up- you only get one introduction, after all." And with this stern speech, she entered the door, alone.
As soon as the door closed, whispers shot through the throng like wildfire- James, being in the very middle, heard snatches of it. "I hear we have to fight each other with our wands!" Amongst various other mad ideas for the coming task. Despite the cold fear in him, James spoke loudly enough to be heard, a light grin on his face. "So! Anyone else got a bad feeling about this?"
Lo, it begins. See you in Chapter Two, readers!
Vi