Notes: IAHF is getting translated into Danish by the wonderful Relina-Chan!

Part XX

The following is a clipping from the Multiverse Monitor, the sporadically-printed newsletter of the PPC.

2011 Mary Sue Summit Showcases Suvian Developments and Plans

By Nita Incog
Published: March 1, 2011

LEAGUE OF MARY SUE FACTORIES - More than just the usual ramblings about ensnaring Lust Objects were bandied about by notable Mary Sues at the 2011 Mary Sue Summit on February 14, 2011 at the Mary Sue Factory Happily Ever After, Ltd.

"We gotta have something big this year. Really. I mean, politics gets a little boring after a while," said Starr Prettprettyprincess. "There's a new Official Fanfiction University, but I don't know any of the cuties there."

"I'd break a nail if I had to attack an OFU," said Celeste Sakurablossom.

Leaders of Mary Sue Factories and notable Mary Sues all gathered at the summit to discuss these 'big things' that they want to do - attack the PPC HQ (again), infiltrate some emerging fandoms (the Homestuck fandom was brought up once or twice), attack new OFUs, and travel through time.

Yes, time travel was discussed. Lilith Wydenbrooke, the manager of Happily Ever After, Ltd., actually brought it up herself.

"I've pirated some technology from the PPC and I intend on using that for research into time travel," said Wydenbrooke. "Suvian time travel has always been confined to a story's timeline. If we break that barrier, we can alter time in the real world, across multiple story timelines, and even in the multiverse itself. The possibilities are endless."

In the Canon Protection Initiative, time travel has long since been a controversial topic. The PPC and various OFUs have suffered near-devastating attacks from Mary Sues; if Mary Sues are able to mess time they will be able to mess with the outcomes of those attacks and various other events.

"There are fears that Agents from the Enforcers of the Plot Continuum and the Protectors of the Plot Discontinuum will take this opportunity to attack us," said a PPC Agent who wished to remain unnamed for safety concerns. "They are, after all, Suvian in nature. And if the Mary Sues can control time, they can control everything."

The Mary Sues attending the summit, however, have not expressed any plans for attacking via time travel.

"I'm more concerned with getting the happily ever after that was rightfully mine," said Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. "Now get out and let me wallow in my misery."

Venezia traced the side of Mr. Hugh's face with a finger; the Course Coordinator grimaced at her touch but made no move to pull away.

"This Chronotransporter is important to me, Hughie. I need it." Her breath tickled his skin. He flinched, but his eyes closed.

"Agnes Hill entrusted it to Satow and Kane," he pointed out.

Venezia laughed. "Hughie, are you really that gullible?"

Mr. Hugh blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Do you even know where Satow and Kane come from?"

"Satow was a British Minister Plenipotentiary and Envoy Extraordinary to Japan, like me."

"There's more than that. Satow shouldn't be trusted with something as important as this Chronotransporter – in fact, what he's told you about Agnes Hill entrusting it to him is a lie."

"Preposterous!"

"It's the truth. Satow and Kane stole the Chronotransporter from Agnes. She had been testing it out for Lilith. She travelled to Satow's period; he and Kane stole it from her and ended up at your school when they tried to escape.

"That's far-fetched –"

"Think! Is Satow controlling the machine, or is the machine controlling Satow?" Venezia's smile vanished. "If Agnes had entrusted the Chronotransporter to Satow, then he should be able to control it, right?"

"He said the thing was broken –"

"But it worked, because now you're in 17th century Venice."

Mr. Hugh's frown deepened. "It's your word against his. You're a Mary Sue. Why should I believe you?"

Venezia rolled her eyes. "The evidence is in my favour," she asserted.

"I won't believe it until you show me the evidence," Mr. Hugh replied.

"You'd have to provide the Chronotransporter to get your evidence."

"Why would I? You're a Mary Sue." Back to square one. Venezia huffed.

"Hughie. Honestly. Is that all that concerns you?"

"Please stop calling me Hughie."

Venezia sighed. "All right then, Hugh." She moved away from him. "What can I do to make you believe me?"

"Nothing. I can't trust your kind."

"You're narrow-minded."

"Mary Sues nearly destroyed my school. That Lilith you work for nearly killed me. I have every right to hate you."

Venezia bit her lower lip. "I really do want to help you escape this place. You don't deserve to die here." She looked at him, a wistful gleam in her eyes. "I like you."

Mr. Hugh snorted and turned his back on her. "Several Mary Sues have told me that," he snapped.

The students gathered in the Orientation Hall once again that weekend. Some of them looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed; others looked only half-awake. Some of the half-awake students were probably responsible for rigging the giant Lust Object trap outside the Staff Section, if the Mochi bits stuck on their clothes and hair were anything to go by.

(Like all student-sprung traps at IAHF, that one had been an utter failure. The perpetrators had only managed to fall into their own trap as the Mochis came investigating.)

Policeman Arthur, Aviator Alfred, and French Revolution Francis stepped up to the stage. "Welcome to the Writers' Seminar!" Policeman Arthur announced. "We have noticed that our classes haven't been focusing on the writing portion of Hetalia fanfiction, so we're rectifying that with this seminar."

"We'd like to… er… thank… the students who sent in stories for critiquing," continued Aviator Alfred. "They were… interesting reads."

"They ran the gamut from amazing to dogshit," Policeman Arthur snapped. "We'll begin with the dogshit and slowly make our way up. Frog, you got the presentation running?"

French Revolution Francis straightened up from the laptop. "Je ne comprends pas cette ordinature," he muttered.

"You wouldn't," sniffed Policeman Arthur as the presentation started. "Now, why don't we begin with…" he paled.

"I don't think that one counts. It's not Hetalia," Aviator Alfred noted. Some of the students were giggling weakly as they read the text on the slide. Others were nauseous.

"Isn't Jennifer the ex-girlfriend of…"Alakayie Mars began, but Christine Blacke slammed a hand over her mouth.

"I don't think Angels reproduce that way," Cain Harren remarked loudly. Next to him, Lucas and Michael were determinedly avoiding each other's gaze. "And Lucas wouldn't wear a dress."

Michael coughed. Lucas scowled and blushed.

"Okay, barring that one time in the fifteenth century when he had too much ambrosia…"

"That never happened!"

"Saint Peter had it all on tape!"

"Angels! Take your heavenly bickering somewhere else. We're moving on!" Policeman Arthur screeched. "Next is this story called 'Stereotypical'. The pairing is me and an original character. What's wrong with this story?"

"The England/OC bit? USUK all the way!" someone shouted, only to be drowned out by a chorus of hisses from the FrUK shippers.

"England/OC isn't always a bad thing," Aviator Alfred pointed out. "Canon characters can be paired with original characters. That's not our issue, though. What is?"

"The original character is vague. Why is Arthur pouncing some random chick?" Ilsa Heine demanded.

"Good. What else?"

"The stripper part," Policeman Arthur interjected before anyone else could comment. "As well as the stereotypes in the sack. I assure you, I am not –"

"Too much information, Artie. What's the most glaring mistake?"

"Not spacing dialogue," Dorothy Brown said immediately. "The tense shifts a lot, and there's too much telling."

"Telling?" alice vaughn echoed.

"Show, not tell," Dorothy explained. "It's where you let a character's actions and words reveal their personality instead of telling us outright. I mean, Arthur is relatively in-character – there are definitely worse portrayals – but still, we don't get a good grasp of the author's interpretation of his character. It's mostly just the original character pondering British stereotypes."

"Stereotypes themselves are an issue," Shoste Thermo muttered.

"Excellent point. Why would that be the case, Miss Thermo?" Policeman Arthur asked.

"Stereotypes are self-fulfilling prophecies. If you make someone believe they're a stereotype, they will conform to that stereotype." The Alternian Troll crossed her arms. "They shouldn't define a Hetalia Nation."

"But she says that not all stereotypes are true when it comes to the English," Fayane Tyme pointed out, grinning weakly.

"Yeah, but the author's assuming that everyone views the world through stereotypes," Shoste retorted.

Policeman Arthur coughed before Fayane could respond. "Any other complaints?"

"Grammar and mechanics. We already mentioned the dialogue problem. There are also some fragments," Ilsa Heine said immediately.

Policeman Arthur nodded. "Right. This next one is untitled, but it's once again it's about me. With some friends."

"Imaginary friends," Aviator Alfred added.

"They're real, damn it!"

"Sure." Aviator Alfred snickered. "In this piece, Arthur's baking scones. Those scones come alive."

"Actually, I think that happened a couple of days ago," French Revolution Francis piped up from where he had been changing the slides. "There was a live scone in my laundry."

Pause. "I think you found Sconey," Aviator Alfred remarked. "Congratulations."

"Sconey?" echoed French Revolution Francis. The students sniggered.

"Wizard Arthur's lost companion. It's a scone with legs. He's been posting up lost scone posters all over the Staff Section; didn't you notice?"

French Revolution Francis groaned. "Mon dieu. I am going to find that incompetent wizard and –"

"Introduce him to the guillotine? You're nice," sniffed Policeman Arthur. "Does anyone have anything to say about this piece?"

Andy, Sara, Franklin, and Taylor looked at each other uneasily from the hall outside the Foscarini Library.

"Think we can get him out of there?" Franklin hissed, nodding to the door. "He's been in there since the search parties went out. Inconsolable."

"It's sweet of him to be so concerned for Mr. Hugh, though," Franklin pointed out.

"Still, he needs to get a life," Sara muttered. "Especially one that's not connected to Mr. Hugh in some way, shape, or form."

"Obsession's unhealthy," agreed Andy. Sara snorted. "What?"

"You have an unhealthy obsession with the Hawthorne kid." She grinned, shrugged, and opened the door.

Charlie was pacing the interior, his usually grinning face contorted into a scowl. He barely acknowledged the others as they entered the room. Franklin coughed, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Have they discovered anything?" Charlie demanded suddenly. The others looked at each other.

"No," Taylor said after a moment. "Charlie, it's past midnight. You should sleep."

Charlie grimaced. "I've been up these past few days," he muttered as Franklin walked to the window and looked out, watching the moonlight ripple in the Canale Santa Margherita.

"Get some sleep. You'll need it." Sara's voice was unnaturally gentle. "They'll find him soon."

The five paused to listen to the crackle of the wood in the fireplace. Form far away, several fangirls were screaming about Elisabeta. The rumble of feet echoed through the palazzo.

Moments later, Elisabeta's yelling (something that sounded eerily like Attila the Hun's worst battle cry) drowned out all other sounds.

"HOW DARE THOSE LITTLE BRATS! I'LL SHOW THEM! LEMME AT THEM, RODERICH! LEMME AT THEM, I SWEAR!"

Andy snickered. The ghost of a smile flitted across Charlie's lips.

"What'd they do now?" the curly-haired ginger took a seat at a table, leaning against the seat.

"Stole her porn, probably," Taylor remarked. Franklin rolled his eyes.

"I highly doubt Elisabeta managed to procure porn in 17th century Venice," he muttered.

"This is Elisabeta Héderváry. She's the MacGuyver of procuring porn," Andy pointed out. "She could probably find porn on Mount Everest in a sixteenth-century snowstorm."

Pause. "Shit." Sara started moving towards the door as Elisabeta's yelling faded away. But before the Canada fangirl could leave the library, the door banged open and in rushed several students.

"Which one of you did something to Elisabeta to put her in such a rage?" Taylor demanded.

"Did what?" one of the students echoed.

"You didn't hear Elisabeta?"

"We haven't done anything! We've been searching." The student held up a lantern, panting.

"Hawthorne! Lila! There you are!" Andy moved into the firelight, shaking his head. "I hope –"

"Blah, blah, blah, brother. Nothing happened." Lila crossed her arms. "We've got information."

Charlie sat bolt upright.

"Put a banana in your ear!" snickered Cuddles. They had moved onto one of Yuki-rin Oxenstierna's stories.

"I'm pretty sure there's a rule against songfics in the FFN terms of service," Dorothy Brown mused.

"Of all songs," muttered Agent Anora Jensai.

"There's no plot," complained Jillian the Pikachu.

"Arthur is a bit out-of-character," Aviator Alfred mused. "He's… what was Kiku's term for it? Deer?"

"Tsundere," Francesca Elric suggested.

"Read the fic. It's deredere," Stephanie Marie corrected.

"Yes, Arthur is a bit too deredere in the beginning. We don't know why he's so eager for me to propose to him. His overreaction in the end might be a bit in-character, but the unsteady characterisation in the beginning makes it seem too unnatural."

"That's unusually eloquent for you, hotshot," snickered Policeman Arthur.

"Why thank you, bobby," retorted Aviator Alfred.

Gillyflower Caulfray raised a plush teddy bear arm. "Why would Belarus sing 'Put a Banana in Your Ear'? She seems too doom-and-gloom for bananas."

"Why is Ireland in there, my friend?" Nessie the stick figure wondered.

"Because the author created an Ireland Original Character and wants her to tag along," Francesca Elric replied.

"I think I meant for that to be a rhetorical question, my friend."

"How was I supposed to know?"

"Moving on!" Policeman Arthur nudged French Revolution Francis. The sans-culotte changed the slide. "This next piece is untitled, but it is set in ancient history and details the fall of Carthage."

The students started to read. "It seems well-researched," Dorothy Brown conceded.

"The original character Carthage seems a little flat until the very end, but she does act according to historical events," Fayane Tyme mumbled. "I'd like to see more about her, personally."

"Yes, there's lots of room for more character development. The first part is just backstory, and that slows the pace a bit," Dorothy agreed. "It's good, though."

"Grammar's not a problem," Ilsa Heine added.

"Can people other than members of the Nerd Group contribute?" Aviator Alfred called.

C. Jeannete Hernandez raised her hand. "I like the names," she said bluntly.

"Thank you, Miss Hernandez. Anyone else?"

Zanie Ellison Renelle coughed. "I agree with the character thing. Carthage sounds interesting and not Mary Sueish, but I want to see a bit more development."

"But aren't underdeveloped characters Mary Sues?" Ruth asked.

"No," Agent Anora Jensai snapped. "Not all underdeveloped characters are Mary Sues. A Mary Sue is a pet character designed for vicarious living. An underdeveloped character may not be an author's vehicle for wish-fulfilment."

"Well said," Policeman Arthur agreed. "Any last suggestions or critiques?"

The Nerds bowled each other over in their haste to critique the piece.

"They're at the Palazzo Foscarini. We investigated a lead from Stanley South," Susanna Black-White reported.

Charlie, Taylor, and Franklin looked at each other and then at the eight students.

"And you found them?" Charlie asked.

"No, we found information on them. There were guards all over the Palazzo. Two of them were accompanying this woman," Violet Rein continued, with Elise Rayn and Susanna Black-White bobbing their heads in agreement. Peter and Lila took the loveseat, holding hands and leaning against each other. Kira mimed vomiting. Ursula rolled her eyes.

Allison Frazier put her head in her arms, yawning. "The woman was talking about how one of the prisoners was refusing to cooperate," she mumbled.

"It was Mr. Hugh. She mentioned the name 'Fraser'," Elise pointed out.

"Really? I was too tired to notice." Allison yawned widely.

"Miss Frazier, go to bed," Franklin said immediately. Allison cheerily complied.

"Do you know where they are?" Charlie asked.

Peter raised his hand. "They said something about the pozzi."

"Shit!" Franklin's eyes went wide. "Those are the worst!"

"The worst?" Charlie blanched. "What are the pozzi?"

"They're ground-level prisons in the Palazzo Ducale. They make London during the Black Death look like a safe and happy environment," Franklin's expression was grave.

"Shit," agreed Charlie. "How are we going to get Mr. Hugh and Mr. Allen out of there?"

"We need to infiltrate the Palazzo." Heads turned to Taylor. "What? It'd be like we're in a spy film and stuff! We have to get someone into the Palazzo to make an escape plan for Mr. Allen and Mr. Hugh and then we can get them out –"

"But who? How do they even get in?"

"We might have an answer to that." Satow and Kane were standing in the doorway to the library, their expressions grim.

Notes: Brownie points to the person who can correctly guess all of the Mary Sues mentioned at the beginning.