Right. Deleted Scenes, from the Stupid but Hopefully Hilarious Phic, Erik is Fired!
From chapter eight:
The Siren hugged her polar bear happily, giving a squeak of surprise when the bear was suddenly snatched out of her arms. No one else noticed. She turned to see Morwenna and Mina standing there, grinning. Morwenna handed the bear back and motioned her to follow them behind a dunking booth.
"What are you two doing here?" asked the Siren. "The space-time continuum –"
"The Bermuda Triangle," said Morwenna, as if that was explanation enough. It was. Morwenna and the Bermuda Triangle have a weird relationship.
The Siren nodded. "How's the other me?"
"Happy, as usual," said Mina. She opened her backpack and dug around in it, soon withdrawing her hand and holding it out to the Siren. Her hand held a microphone.
"What's that?" asked the Siren, and, after setting her bear down, took the microphone to study it curiously.
"A magical microphone. As long as you hold that to your mouth, you can sing all you want and not kill anyone."
The Siren's largish anime eyes grew three times bigger than they had been, and took on a shiny look. "Really?"
"As long as you're careful with it," said Mina. "Meaning, don't try any Mary-Sue-like tricks on Dad."
The Siren's skin suddenly lost its vibrant blue colour, becoming a dull blueish colour. Meaning, she paled. Considerably. "No way!"
"Good," both magic users said as the Siren tested it out, being careful enough to not be too loud. Just in case.
During her testing, she attracted a crowd. When she was done, the very large crowd clapped, then dispersed. At her feet was a large pile of money. The Siren smacked her hands together happily.
"Awright! Now I can play all the fair games!" She glanced around, then pointed to a vendor. "You!"
The vendor looked up. "Who, me?"
"Yeah! Gimme that backpack!"
He tossed it over, and the Siren began loading her newfound wealth into it.
"Thirty francs, please!" he called.
"Here ya go." The Siren threw the money at him.
"Hey!"
"Sorry!" When the Siren was done, she tucked her microphone away in the bottom of her new backpack and came bounding back over to them, where she picked up her bear.
"Let's go watch Erik win that contest, shall we?" said Morwenna, wanting to see her grand-nephew in action. So off they went.
And, of course, Erik won. As if anyone else stood a chance.
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From chapter two:
The alarm went off.
"I'll get it!" the Siren shouted happily as she bounded towards the door. Erik had to grab her arm and pull her back in order to get ahead. He opened the door.
He, Nadir, Darius, the Siren, Madame Giry, and Meg all peeked out.
"Whoa," said Erik.
"Man, you're popular!" said the Siren.
"She swore she wouldn't come back here," said Meg, then, looking up at Erik, apologized. "Sorry. But she did."
"I know," muttered Erik.
"What's she doing here?" asked Nadir. "I'd have thought -"
"Don't say it," muttered Erik sourly. "Perhaps she's come to -"
"Have cake!" the Siren interrupted. "I had it once, when I was a small hatchling, and it was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted!" She looked down at Erik. "Will you make some before we have to leave? Please?!"
"We?" asked Erik.
"I'm coming with you!" said the Siren. "I couldn't serve any other Opera Ghost!" She beamed.
Erik was touched. "Why . . . thank you."
"You're welcome!" beamed the Siren.
"What kind of cake would you like?"
"Chocolate with chocolate chip frosting!"
"I shall make some especially for you later."
"Yay!"
"She's almost here," Nadir hissed. As one, the six of them pulled their heads back inside and shut the door.
A few moments later, the timid knock of Christine resounded on the door.
"We shouldn't even be here," came Raoul's voice from outside. "If he really has been sacked -"
"Why, that little-" Erik began as Nadir kicked his foot.
"We should get away from here as soon as possible."
"But don't you see, Raoul, if he is fired, there's going to be nothing left for him to hang onto. I have to at least let him down gently. Perhaps that Persian friend of his will be able to help him out . . ."
Nadir grinned, and Erik kicked his foot.
"But what if he decides that nothing is worth it anymore and kidnaps you again, but refuses to let you go this time?"
"I told you, Raoul, he wouldn't do that."
Nadir shot Erik a meaningful glance. Erik stuck his tongue out.
"He's a madman, Christine! Come, we're leaving!"
"No, Raoul! I have to say goodbye!" Christine began pounding on the door. "Erik! I know you're in there! The managers told me they're getting a new Opera Ghost and you have to move out! Let me in!"
"Wow," whispered Erik. "I didn't realize she had that kind of strength."
He stood up and looked at the Siren. She nodded and disappeared into the Louis-Philippe room. Madame Giry and Meg followed her. Darius disappeared into Erik's room.
Madame Giry stopped at the doorway and looked back at Erik.
"Be strong," she said, and disappeared inside.
Erik unlocked the door, and Christine fell in, face first. He helped her in, shot a look at Raoul, and shut the door in his face.
Raoul began beating on the door and yelling.
"They kicked you out!" said Christine angrily. "They actually dared fire you! You're the best Ghost this Opera shall ever know, I'll bet!" She stopped for a breath, then looked up at him. "You should have just killed them!"
Erik grinned. "That's what I told them, my dear."
"You caused this place so many scares!" Christine went on. "Why, I don't think Meg and Jammes will ever believe that you're gone! And Madame Giry has vowed to not participate in the money-gathering 'scheme' of the new Ghost. She's furious about it!"
Nadir couldn't believe his ears; this didn't sound like timid little girl that they knew.
Christine nodded at Nadir. "And that creepy spooky guy you don't like, he's pretty ticked too. Says that he'll forever haunt this place in your place, Erik, and will make the new Ghost a failure." Her nose suddenly twitched and she stopped and looked around, brow furrowed.
"What's that smell?"
"What smell?" Erik and Nadir both asked.
"It smells like . . . seaweed," said Christine.
"I don't smell anything," lied Erik. Nadir and Christine looked at him. "Just because I don't have a nose doesn't mean I can't smell!"
"I don't smell anything either," Nadir fibbed. "Except for the constant stench of death."
Erik glared at him for the jab as Christine shrugged. "All right," she said. "I just stopped by to make sure you were all right," she continued, spotting that the Louis-Philippe door was open by a couple inches. A sound similar to giggling floated out from it. Christine walked towards the door, noticing that the seaweed scent was getting stronger.
In a flash, Erik and Nadir were there in front of the door, blocking it so that Christine couldn't see inside.
"I'm fine," Erik lied. "Nadir's going to help me figure things out. Right, Nadir?"
Nadir nodded furiously. "Yep. We already have some ideas for where he'll live."
Christine looked suspiciously at them. "Who's that in there?"
"No one!" Erik and Nadir said quickly.
Christine crossed her arms and glared. Ooh, spooky. "Someone's in there and I want to know who."
Nadir and Erik exchanged glances, sighed, and moved away from the door. Christine moved in stealthily.
The only person she saw in the room was Ayesha, playing with a cat toy on the bed.
Christine looked back at Erik and Nadir. "Why were you trying to hide your cat, Erik?"
Erik and Nadir looked at each other in surprise.
"She's sick!" said Nadir quickly.
"With a very bad flu. We don't want you to risk catching it," Erik added. The silly-sounding lie seemed to work, for Christine walked out of the room, seemingly satisfied.
The two men shot a quick glance back into the room to see the Siren walk out of the bathroom with a sopping wet towel on her head. Madame Giry and Meg poked their heads out from under the bed. The Siren grinned at them, and all three waved.
With a sigh of relief, Erik shut the door.
The three of them stood in silence, staring at each other, before Nadir finally broke the silence.
"You should probably be going, Christine," said Nadir meaningfully. "Erik and I have a lot of work to do before he has to leave, and it sounds to me as though the Vicomte is losing his voice."
"Yes, right," said Christine, walking towards the door. "I just had to come make sure you were okay, Erik."
Erik nodded. "Thank you." He walked over to the door and moved to release the spring, then looked down at Christine.
"I hope you'll be happy with him," said Erik softly, flicking the spring.
The door swung open, and Raoul stared into the house, too shocked for words.
Christine nodded and stepped out. "Goodbye, Erik."
Raoul looked at her, then to Erik, then back at her.
Christine got into the boat and sat down. "Coming, Raoul?"
Raoul finally came to his senses and hurried after her. As the boat began to move away, Christine looked back and waved.
Erik slowly lifted his own hand in reply and didn't lower it, even after the two had been long gone.
Nadir, the Siren, Darius, Madame Giry, and Meg stepped up behind him.
"Can we make cake now?" asked the Siren carefully. Nadir shot her a look. "Sorry."
"Erik," said Nadir, "we need to begin packing your things."
There were a few minutes of silence, then Erik turned back around.
"Well, let's begin, shall we?" he said, forcing his voice to be cheery.
Nadir and Madame Giry exchanged glances, then took hold of his arms.
"We'll begin packing tonight," said Nadir. "We have time, after all."
"Right!" said Madame Giry. "What you need right now is some fun!"
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Somewhere between chapters 8 and 11 and probably would have been better if posted back in '04:
Erik found himself standing back in one of the auditoriums in the Opera, feeling slightly woozy. The Opera wasn't demolished, crushed, or in any way destroyed. Everything did look slightly burned, though.
"Oooh, I don't feel so good," he said in a very OOC-ish way. He checked his pulse and wasn't all that pleased with the result.
"That would be the effects of interdimensional travel," said a sexy Scottish voice that caused several new phans to swoon. Erik looked up.
"Who are --"
"I'm the Phantom of the Opera," said Movie!Phantom. "Who're you?" He eyed his alternate - better - self suspiciously. Erik glanced around quickly, then looked back at the Phantom.
"I'm the Phantom of the Opera," he corrected. "Why isn't the Opera destroyed?"
"It is," Movie!Phantom answered. "It burned when I made the chandelier fall. And what do you mean, you're the Phantom? I am."
Erik shook his head. "No, a giant robot version of my cat destroyed it."
"I think I'd have noticed if that had happened."
"Sorry," said MetaChi, waltzing up and looking at Erik. She was careful to avoid looking at Movie!Phantom, for fear of slipping into Fangirl Mode. Not that she wasn't already in Fangirl Mode around Erik, her fangirling of him was a different type of fangirling. "I accidentally sent you to the movie continuum. I'll send you back now. Don't worry." She snapped her fingers again, this time sending Erik to his own home, and foolishly chanced a look at Movie!Phantom.
She began drooling.
"o.O" said Movie!Phantom, and ran away. The second he was out of sight, she smacked herself.
"Stupid!" she said. "Why am I letting myself do that?"
"Because he's damn sexy!" cried the movie phans, running past.
"But he's not supposed to be!" she shouted.
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From chapter two:
"And how do you know what I'll do or not?" Madame Giry asked, scowling at him.
"Because soon, the managers will be crawling back to Erik, begging him to return to the Opera," said Nadir matter-of-factly.
The others turned to him. "How do you know that?" they asked together.
"The Authoress left this note lying around," said Nadir, withdrawing it from his coat to show it to them. It said, in barely legible writing: Near the end of phiccy, make managers crawl back to Erik and beg his forgiveness. (POSSIBLE ENDING!)
Erik smacked the back of Nadir's head.
"It says 'possible ending', you idiot!" said Erik, grabbing the note and examining it further. "How do we even know that this is from an Authoress, anyway? And how do we know it's a 'she'?"
Nadir, rubbing the back of his head, turned the note over. There were many doodles, most of Erik, but some of Philippe as well, and some characters that Erik and Nadir didn't recognize. One looked suspiciously like Stitch. There were also many hearts, in which the words "I LOVE Erik!" were written. Of course, there were many variations of it, in which the word 'love' was replaced by 'adore', 'revere', 'idolize', 'honor', 'heart', and everyone's favorite, 'worship'.
"It is," began Nadir spookily, "the work of a phangirl!"
Everyone gasped out of pure necessity for the spooky tone Nadir used. Except Erik, who snatched the note from Nadir's hand and stuffed it away somewhere within the deep recesses of his coat.
"I'll be keeping this," said Erik smoothly, "for evidence."
The others snickered.
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From somewhere between chapter twelve and chapter thirteen (You know, the Big Time Gap of DOOM):
Your computer monitor suddenly fades to black (admit it, you can see the screen growing darker and darker) and when the color returns, the scene is no longer at Erik's somehow transdimensional apartment, but at a newsroom where a blonde-haired blue-eyed teenage girl sat. Except, for the moment, the eyes were green. Contact lenses, doncha know.
". . . Blue and yellow does make green, right?" she asked, staring off to the side, out of the camera's range. She seemed to get a positive answer, for she nodded and turned back to face the camera, shuffling her papers professionally as she did so.
"I need to dye my hair," she muttered before grinning at the camera. "Maybe red."
The camera suddenly shook violently, and she glared toward it. "I'll talk about whatever I want! Thisis my talk show!"
The camera continued to be violent.
"I hate you," she said to the camerawoman.
"Feeling's mutual," came the answer. "Now get on with it! I've procrastinated on this chapter long enough as it is."
Mina coughed, then spread her papers out on the desk in front of her, after which she folded her hands and smiled serenely at the camera.
"Welcome, ladies and gents, to Mina's Opinionated Evening Show!" She briefly frowned, not really caring for that very uncreative name, then went on. "Today, I'm going to talk about my father, Erik, the Phantom of the Opera, my mother, Christine Daae, and Raoul de Chagny, my . . . . wait. He doesn't even know about me!"
A packet of paper came flying at Mina from behind the camera. She didn't catch it, in order to demonstrate her un-Mary-Sue-ness, and let it hit her.
She reached down to the floor, picked up the packet, and ripped it open. She scanned the contents quickly, then blinked.
"Raoul's one of my godfathers?" She looked intensely surprised.
The camera bobbed up and down in assent.
"What about Philippe?" she asked, staring at whoever was behind the camera. At a quick movement from said camerawoman, she continued looking at the papers that were in the packet thrown at her.
". . . Oh. Wow."
Behind the camera, the camerawoman smirked.
Mina balled up the papers and threw them with precision at the camerawoman.
". . . OWWWWW."
"Take THAT."
"'s not my fault."
"Yes, it is," Mina replied. "You're the one who created me as Erik and Christine's daughter, sometimes make Philippe Dad's brother, turned Aunt Siren into a real character, made the Shade into a sex-crazed jerk, and -- hey, where's Tony?"
"Who?"
"Gandalf's apprentice. Carlotta and Richard's adopted son. Used to go by the name of Lil Firmin?"
". . . Oh. Him. Hmm. Y'know, I don't -- Oh, crap." The camerawoman looked around furiously for somewhere to hide, but by the time she thought she might have possibly found a place, it was far too late.
Agent Rena, of the PPC, came barreling out of nowhere and up onto the stage. The force of such an action caused her to crash head on into the Authoress and after properly subduing her, began charging her with the crimes that Mina just described, plus the numerous others she had commited that Mina hadn't known about.
Sitting at her desk, watching this with vast amusement, Mina grinned viciously.
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Alternate opening for chapter 13:
Erik and the Siren glanced up from where they were seated in a giant white space, playing Uno. It was a big empty white space, and had been so for well over a year. Where they were sitting was roughly where the living room of Erik's apartment had been. As they threw looks around the whiteness, the whiteness itself seemed to slowly not be so white anymore, as if something was slowly being sketched in.
"Ah," said Erik. "I think we're finally getting some attention again."
"'Bout time," said the Siren, looking around at the room, which was beginning to materialize into the familiar apartment of previous chapters. She laid her cards down, face down so Erik couldn't cheat, and stood up to walk to the door, where she opened it and peeked out. "Yep," she said. "Looks like we're being written again."
Erik slammed his cards down upon the table, face down as well. He looked around the newly materialized room and seemed to be waiting. After a moment of checking the walls and being sure that they were stable, the Siren sat back down.
"What're you doing?" she asked after a moment of watching him look at the ceiling.
"Waiting for that fool Authoress to show up, like she's been constantly doing throughout this entire misadventure."
The Siren looked at the ceiling, then back down at her masked employer. "Want me to call her?"
"Why would I want you to do that?"
The Siren shrugged. As she shrugged, though, a knock came at the door. The heads of both Erik and the Siren, as well as Ayesha's, turned toward the sound. Ayesha was far less interested in who the person on the other side could be, however, and laid back down to sleep a bit more.
"I'll get it!" said the Siren. Erik wondered vaguely if he should hide, but decided against that as it was a cowardly thing to do. Meeting no resistance from him on the subject of answering the knock, she hopped from her seat to bounce to the door and peer out. "Miiiiina! HI!"
"Hi, Aunt Siren," Mina said, coming into the apartment without waiting for an invitation to do so. Morwenna, with her resemblance to Madeleine and need to hide out in this continuum, decided to stay outside, where Erik couldn't see her. The Siren, nonetheless, peeked out to wave at her.
"Hi, Morwenna!"
"Hi, Siren."
"Not coming in?"
"I don't think it's a good idea."
"Hm. Probably. Want anything to drink anyway?"
"Only if you've got wine." She grinned. The Siren laughed, realizing at once why exactly she wanted it, and went to get her some. Because of course Erik would have some. As she crossed room into the kitchen, Mina looked around the room, avoiding Erik's watchful and wary look. Because Erik of course realized that hey, this girl looks kinda like Christine. Except she had green eyes, dark hair, was taller, and had a generally more malicious aura.
"I see you haven't unpacked," she said. Then, to the Siren, added, "I want a martini."
"Sure thing," said the Siren, opening the fridge. Yeah, fridge. Very modern one, too, with an ice maker.
"We haven't gotten around to it," said Erik. "Who are you?"
"Name's Mina," said Mina, accepting the glass from the Siren. She took a sip.
"Mina?" said Erik, having a quick flashback to that five minutes he's spent on that island with that crazy Authoress. "Wait. According to that insane woman, you're -- but there's no logical possibility of that. Christine and I -- we haven't -- I would never -- she would never -- that's impossible."
"Highly improbable," Mina corrected, taking another sip. "I should have known that gorram dolt would have told you about me. But," she continued, "yes. It is possible, because look! I exist." She spun around on one foot, careful not to let her drink spill. "I'm just not from here, that's all."
Erik stared. Mina grinned.
"Aunt Siren. She can jump across dimensions."
"It's called continuum hopping," the Siren corrected, coming back from a quick conversation with Morwenna in the hallway.
"Whatever," said Mina, taking another sip. "Before I cause any more damage here, I just have one thing to say." She pointed directly at Erik's face, right where his nose would be if he'd had one. "Dad. Yes, Dad."
Erik blinked and felt an odd surge of paternal feelings he hadn't quite realized he possessed.
"What's left for you here?" Mina continued.
". . . Nothing," he sighed.
"Right. Mom's happily married to Raoul. The Opera's finished." At that, she paused. "Where's Darkwing?"
"After the Opera got smushed, the Authoress kidnapped him away to safety," the Siren put in helpfully, now sitting on the couch and reading volume three of Chobits.
"Okay. So, there's nothing left for you here."
"Don't rub it in," Erik muttered.
"Therefore," said Mina, finishing off her martini and holding the glass out for the Siren to take. The Siren stared at it as if it was an alien creature and after a moment, Mina rolled her eyes and took it to the kitchen herself, grumbling as she did so. The Siren grinned to herself and went back to her manga.
"Therefore," Mina repeated when she returned, "I give you these." She handed him a set of cruise tickets she hadn't been holding five seconds ago. Erik took them cautiously.
"Cruise tickets?" he asked. "To New York," he said, sounding almost defeated. "Why?"
"It's your destiny to go. And you're not listening to it yell at you, so you're getting a bit of a push. Are you going to go?"
Erik looked at the tickets. "Perhaps."
"Better than nothing," Mina figured, and moved to go toward the door to leave. The Siren waved without looking up from her book. Mina waved back, crossing the doorway.
"Bye, Dad," she said. "See you somewhen."
Erik fidgeted in his chair, wondering if he should -- hell yes. "Wait," he said. Mina paused and looked back.
"Are you reallymy daughter?" Man, that felt weird to say.
Mina smiled. "Yeah, Dad, I am. Only - not. It's complicated." And she left, leaving Erik feeling confused.
"Don't try to figure it out," said the Siren. "It only makes sense if you were there. Or," she added, "watched the video or read the phic itself. And even that doesn't really work. Best to ignore the technicalities and accept it, really."
Erik decided that for once he'd take the Siren's advice and instead counted out the tickets. "Why are there ten here?"
"Oh!" said the Siren, marking her place in the manga. "That's 'cuz you, me, Ayesha, Nadir, Darius, Madame Giry, and Meg are going too!"
Erik counted. "But that's only seven. And why would Ayesha need a ticket?"
The Siren slapped her head. "Fred's coming too!"
"Then eight. There's two left."
"I don't know," she said truthfully. "I'm hungry."
"I'm not taking you back to Denny's," Erik said at once.
"'Kay," said the Siren. "I wanna go to Hometown Buffet!"
"No," he answered immediately. "That's worse."
"No it isn't!"
"Actually, it is. Any restaurant like that is."
"But I wanna go out," the Siren whined.
"How about McDonald's?"
"No!"
"Why are we arguing over American restaurants?" Erik wondered sensibly. "Let's go to [fancy French place."
"I guess," the Siren sulked. "But I wanted Hometown Buffet."
"No!" said Erik. "It's either [French place or nowhere."
"Okay!" said the Siren, cheery again.
After feeding Ayesha, Erik and the Siren left. Left again to leave Ayesha wallowing in her loneliness and jealousy. Poor Ayesha.
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Another alternate opening for chapter 13:
After forcing the Authoress to go back and reread the entire fic, as well as tolerating some revisions she insisted upon making, she finally agreed that her insanity was definitely taking over the well-being of this phic, and that she'd do her best to stop.
Erik didn't believe her.
That was how she found herself in an anonymous group for insane crossover loving weirdos who can't write well at all.
But this story is not about her, it is about the adventures of Erik after having been cruelly evicted from the one place he'd finally been able to call home.
Speaking of which.
"Muffins!" said the Siren, bringing them out to be consumed. Ayesha felt her hatred for the half-mermaid thing going down. Only slightly, though.
Erik took one and, still disturbed by the otherworldly event that'd happened last chapter, stared at the wall through which the tourists had disappeared through.
"There is no spoon," said the Siren.
This startled Erik out of his reverie, and he blinked. "What?"
"I said, what are we doing tomorrow?" she repeated.
"Oh," said Erik. "I thought you'd said . . . never mind. That's too absurd, even for you."
"'Cuz I was thinking we could go skydiving, or something."
"How about we head to New York?" Erik replied instead, having no real interest in either of those activities, given his heart was acting up, due to the small bit of Kay!influence he had.
The Siren lit up. Literally. Like a lightbulb. "Oh, Erik, really?"
"I suppose. Given that everyone and everything have been telling me that's where I need to go."
"Yay!" The Siren glanced around and, with a rare bit of common sense, asked, "No point in unpacking then, huh?"
"Not particularly."
"I'm gonna go call Meg!" said the Siren, bouncing out the door. Erik watched, choosing not to tell her that Meg was likely out of shouting range and that her voice being that high would cause some fatalities. Erik thought a little bit of death, even accidental, would be nice.
Ayesha rubbed against his ankles and prayed she'd soon be free of the Siren, even if she did make some damn good muffins.
When the Siren returned, Ayesha was sorely disappointed.
"Madame Giry, Meg, Nadir, and Darius will be waiting by the Seine tomorrow at noon," she said. "What'll we do in the meantime?"
Erik pondered. "Probably get all of our tickets. Wait. They're coming with us?"
The Siren nodded. The resulting look on Erik's disfigured face, unable to be seen at all because of the mask, was that of pure, abject horror. Or terror. Maybe both.
"Why are they coming?"
"Well," said the Siren. "Madame Giry and Meg are coming because there's nothing left for them here. Nadir and Darius want to come because that's where you're going. It's too bad he's still angry with me." She looked a bit sad at Nadir's righteous anger.
Erik stood up, grabbing another muffin as he did so, and went toward the door. "Will you stay here with Ayesha?"
The Siren blinked. Ayesha protested very, very loudly.
"Why?" they both asked, but in very different tones of voices.
"Because," said Erik, knowing that that would get the Siren.
"Fine," said the Siren huffily. Ayesha growled.
"And you," he said to Ayesha. "I'll bring you a treat."
Ayesha mewed her approval and purred as she curled up for a nap.
"Oh, she gets a treat?" the Siren huffed.
"Manga," Erik reminded her before exiting the apartment, locking the door behind him. The Siren stood up to move toward the window.
"You know," she called down once she saw Erik on the sidewalk, "if you get ambushed by the phans, it's not my fault."
That was enough to make Erik hesitate, but as he did not want the Siren with him, he kept going. The Siren slumped to the floor in a hissy fit.
"Not fair," she grumbled. Ayesha mewed. "Oh, shut up." Ayesha mewed again. "Like I care." Mew. "Psh." Mew.
The Siren stood up and glared down at the cat. "Stop acting like you're smarter than me!"
Mew.
"Okay, so you probably are, but that isn't the point." She went back to the window and began to climb out of it. Ayesha began mewing a bit more urgently.
"Shush. If we're going to New York and staying there, then I have to say goodbye to a friend."
Meeeewwww.
"Yes, amazing, isn't it."
And with that, the Siren was gone. Ayesha was happy for the freedom, but hoped the Siren wasn't doing anything stupid. She didn't think Erik cared for the fish thing all that much, but she didn't want to be blamed for her death should she die.
Ayesha went to sleep.
xxxx
Erik walked along the streets slowly, occasionally taking the care to sidestep the Mary Sues that saw fit to try and rush him, whilst avoiding his phans who were lurking in alleys and doorways. Slightly behind him and to the left, he heard a set of footsteps fall into place behind him. Seeing as he didn't get an attempted tackleglomp, he thought about ignoring whoever was behind him, 'til she said something.
"Hi Daddy."
He stopped, and heard the steps behind him stop as well. He turned slowly, and found himself looking at a young woman who seemed like an odd combination of Madeleine and Christine. Which was pretty much impossible, as Christine was supposed to look like Madeleine and Mina therefore couldn't be a combination of them both. In another Universe, Mina disappeared in a puff of logic.
He didn't quite know what to say, until the words of the Authoress were brought back in full force.
"[. . . — Mina's your kid from a different reality and [. . . — are here to kinda supervise the thing[. . . chosen book is Phantom of the Opera [. . . she's already got 'Sue-ish qualities - just being your and Christine's kid is a big no-no."
"What do you mean Christine and I have a child!"
". . ." said Erik, hoping he didn't wind up with a headache from that whopper of a verbal headslam. "I take it you're Mina?"
Mina looked slightly surprised that he knew who she was, but nodded the affirmative. "Yes."
"And what are you here for?"
Avoiding the glares of the rest of the 'Sues in the vicinity, and some from the phans as well, Mina said, "Perhaps we should continue walking. It's not safe right now."
"You're telling me," Erik grumbled.
"Watch out," she advised, just as a group of 'Sues went for an attack. He dodged most of them, and Mina blasted one away with her magic.
"Where's Aunt Siren?" she asked.
"'Aunt'?"
"Yes, Aunt. Where is she?"
"I told her to stay at the apartment."
"Why? She's supposed to be with you at all times."
"Why?"
"You notice how you weren't a magnet for 'Sues before this?"
". . . Yes?"
"She keeps them away."
"Does she now?"
"She does. And it's why I'm here. Mind if we teleport?"
"Can you do that?"
"Certainly. Shall I?"
"As long as it doesn't kill us."
"It won't. Hold on."
And Mina took her wand out again, held onto his arm, said the appropriate words, and they were off, to the docks to buy cruise tickets.
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Some really weird part of a scrapped chapter 13:
"Then," said the Siren, "I've got to say goodbye to a friend." She turned toward the door and walked out. After a short pause, a lightbulb went off over Mina's head.
"Hey," she said, chasing after the Siren. "Aunt Siren, are you really going to --"
". . ." said Morwenna. "I think I should go after her." She left quickly as well.
Erik, Nadir, Madame Giry, and Meg looked around.
"Great," said Meg. "Now what do we do with all of your stuff?"
xxxx
The Siren strolled down a road, flanked by Morwenna and Mina, who wondered if she was really going to go through with this.
"Aunt Siren," Mina said. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"No," came the answer. Mina and Morwenna exchanged glances.
"Then don't do it," Morwenna suggested.
"I have to."
"Who is she going to see?" Morwenna whispered.
"Her ex-husband, I think," Mina replied.
Morwenna, along with the Authoress and some of the audience I'm sure, blinked in surprise. "She was married?"
"Yep," said Mina.
Before Morwenna could say anything more, the Siren stopped in front of a rundown house that no self-respecting person would look twice at. She knocked on the door, then waited. And waited. And waited some more.
"We don't want no stinkin' cookies!" shouted a gruff voice from inside the house. The Siren sighed.
"I'm not a GirlScout."
"We don't want anything else you're sellin', neither."
"Myles, I'm not selling anything."
Footsteps sounded within, then the door opened a crack; just enough to see out and hopefully not be seen. The Siren waved.
The door suddenly found itself flung wide open and the Siren suddenly found herself engulfed in a bearhug.
"Guh," said the Siren. "Can't . . . breathe."
The grip let up, but only slightly. After a moment more, the grip let up completely and the rabid hugger stepped backward, affording the Siren a good look at him.
Mina and Morwenna stood in the background, gaping at him.
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Some point in a draft for chapter 13:
Erik, the Siren, Ayesha, Nadir, Darius, Madame Giry, and Meg all stood next to the Seine, attempting to figure out which way to go to get to the harbor so they could all go to New York, when another of the Authoress's Crazy Random Crossovers of DOOM!™ happened.
As they poured over the map, Robert Langdon and Sophie Neveu dashed past yelling something about Leonardo da Vinci's paintings.
Erik & Company lowered their map and stared after the fleeing couple, blinking slowly.
". . ." said Madame Giry, Meg, and Nadir. The Siren giggled.
"I am not even going to ask," said Erik, turning his attention back to the map.
Ayesha sashayed up to the Siren and, bracing herself for imminent tossage, bit into the Siren's ankle. Oh, sweet justice! Oh, delicious revenge! she thought happily, then actually winced as the taste from the Siren's flesh began to set in. Dear Bast, she thought in horror, she tastes like a month old can of tuna that's been sitting in the sun! But Ayesha was strong, and wasn't going to let go until the Siren felt the pain from her bite.
After thirty seconds, the Siren had the good sense to look down.
"Erik," she said slowly, "I think Ayesha has it in for me."
Erik leaned back so that he could see around Madame Giry and Nadir, and, after assessing the situation, gasped accordingly. "Ayesha!" he scolded, dropping his part of the map and disentangling her from the Siren's foot, whereupon he proceeded to cuddle her. Ayesha, that is. Not the Siren. Never the Siren. "How could you do that, Ayesha? You don't know where the Siren's foot has been!"
Ayesha purred happily. Yup, she thought, my plans are always ingenius. MWAHAHAHA!
Contrary to what one may think, the Siren was actually pleased about this, for it caused an even wider gap between her and Suedom.
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From a previous part of chapter fourteen:
The Siren hummed to herself as she carefully put her brochures away, as has been referred to above, and patted them happily as she closed her suitcase. Which was waterproof, as everything she owned was. Even her iPod that she hadn't let Erik known about. She knew he had one, and that he frequently used it, but hadn't told anyone else from the continuum about it. She felt it was just the same to keep hers hidden. Besides, if Fred knew at all that she had one, she wouldn't have it anymore. Which would suck.
Then she was finished and went to the door to go hunt down whomever she could find. As she opened the door, a group of girls fell into the room, as they'd been pressing their ears against the door, trying in vain to see if they could hear Erik.
"Hi!" said the Siren. "If you're looking for Erik's ro--"
"Who're you?" a phan interrupted. "This is room number 245, but you're definitely not Erik. What are you? Some sort of horrible experiment gone wrong?"
"I can help you with your hair," another piped up. "It's a mess."
The Siren blinked. "No, thank you. You don't know who I am?"
The phans shook their heads as Ayesha padded out from under the bed and stared at them.
"Is that Ayesha?" one of them asked, pointing at her.
"Yes," said the Siren. "And I'm the Siren."
Immediately, the tune of some of the phans changed considerably.
"Uh. Never mind! We weren't really looking for Erik! Don't kill us!" As they were saying that, and more, they tried to back out of the room so the Siren couldn't get her hands on them.
"WTF," one whispered to another. "The siren's real?"
"Leroux never wrote about you!" another claimed. "Erik was the siren!"
"Who the heck's the siren?" a movie phan wondered.
The Siren laughed. "You guys must be new."
After a brief pause, they all nodded.
"Well, come in," said the Siren, gesturing to the bed in the room. "Sit down and I'll tell you a story."
The phans looked at each other.
"Are you going to kill us?" one of them asked.
"No," the Siren told them.
"Really?"
"Honestly."
They did as she asked, mostly because they didn't want to make her angry, and moved to sit on the bed. As they did so, the ship, which had already pulled away from port, headed out into the Atlantic. The Siren wondered to herself why the newcomers weren't taught even a little blurb about herself. She hadn't had to deal with newcomers for awhile, but she didn't particularly like having to explain her existence to those who had no idea she was there. She'd have to have a little talk with the Devoted Erik Phangirls later about getting a blurb or something of her own inserted into the Crash Course all the phans who entered any of the continuums were required to take.
"Leroux didn't mention me specifically because I asked him not to," she began. "So he covered that up with Erik supposedly doing it."
"But he did!" said a phan. "When he came back into the house, Christine saw him dripping wet."
They all began drooling at the thought of a wet Erik, no matter which version they were envisioning. And yes, a couple were imagining Leroux!Erik. So there.
"That's just what Leroux wants you to think," the Siren said. "I was out there going to Philippe's boat to kill him."
"Who?" said a couple of them while another said,
"No! Not Philippe!"
"But," the Siren continued, "I decided he was too cute to kill and took him back to shore, where I entrusted him to the capable hands of a group of your associates." She pointed at the girls.
"Lucky them," one of them muttered enviously, the one who'd just protested the death of Philippe.
"Then I dressed up a dummy to look like him and left it on the shore to be found. Or was that when I killed that annoying stage hand to take his place?" She paused thoughtfully for a moment, then waved a hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter. What matters is, I am in a lot of the story. I just stay away from as much of the narrative as I can. It helps the tone of the story, believe me. Have any of you read Thursday Next?" she asked suddenly and seemingly without reason. When the phans shook their heads, she frowned - a rare sight to see. "Honestly, what are they teaching you girls?"
"Who?" one of them piped up.
The Siren stared at them. "The Devoted Erik Phangirls™."
"Who're they?" The phans looked confused. "And why is that trademarked?"
"You're not with them?" the Siren asked, ignoring the second question. The phans shrugged, not knowing what else to do or say, pretty much. "That's strange. I thought that -- hoo boy. How did you lot get here then?"
"We fell and knocked ourselves out," one of the phans offered. "When we woke up, we were here."
"Oh," said the Siren. She sounded disappointed, which was also a rare thing to hear. "I guess they just haven't gotten to you yet."
"Who?" they asked again. Instead of answering, the Siren went to the door and looked out, as if she was waiting for someone to come along. As the phans waited, another group of girls wandered through the door. They were carrying AK-47s and chainsaws, and the new phans wondered just what they'd gotten themselves into.
"You all," said one of the armed phans, "are going to come with us."
The sitting phans glanced at each other nervously, then, with a gulp of nervousness, they stood up to follow their captors through the door. The Siren waved cheerily. "Bye, guys!" she called. "Don't hurt them. They didn't mean anything bad!"
"Oh, shut up," the armed phans called back. "They'll be fine."
The Siren left then, too, locking the door behind herself and heading off in the opposite direction.
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Scrapped bits from chapter nineteen:
"What's that?" said Erik. "You wish to dine with another cat? Well, I think we can manage that. Is it that Garfield fellow the Siren was referring to some chapters back?"
"Mrow."
"No?"
"Mrow."
"Mssr . . . Chunkybins?"
"MROW."
". . . Chubbykins?"
"Meow."
Off in her Super Secret Lair that she still had from Phantom of the SOAP Opera, the Authoress cackled madly as she watched a certain cartoon.
We'll leave Erik looking all confused and wondering who Ayesha was talking about and head upstairs to where the Siren and Nadir were having a conversation about . . . something.
"Are you sure this'll work?" the Siren asked, looking down suspiciously at the object she held in her hand. Nadir nodded fervently, to express his conviction that yes, it'd work.
"It will," he insisted. "All you need do is get close enough."
"Ah," said the Siren, holding the object up closer to her face so she could study it. "What am I supposed to do again?"
Nadir mentally facepalmed. "Siren."
"Yes?"
"Just go."
"But -"
"Go."
"But -"
"SIREN."
"NADIR," said the Siren in the exact tone of voice Nadir had used and not mockingly at all. "I'm confused. What is it I'm s'posed to do again?" She waved the thing around haphazardly, and Nadir ducked to avoid getting his head blown off, or something even worse than that. "What is this thing?"
"And you've been . . . where? for the last ten minutes?"
"No need to get snarky," the Siren huffed.
"Honey," Nadir said, like a sixty year old woman with a 'tude might, "that was not snarky. You want snarky, watch this."
A cart on wheels appeared out of nowhere with a TV resting atop it. He turned on the TV and gestured dramatically at the screen.
"Hello sick people and their loved ones!" said the TV.
"Oh oh oh!" said the Siren in recognition, lunging at the TV to turn it off. "I know this show! The Authoress recently fell in love with it and made us watch it with her! I've gotta turn it off before -"
But it was too late. There was a sudden sonic boom from the end of the hall, and with a sudden rush of wind, the Authoress was right there, kneeling in front of the TV, holding a bag of M&Ms, and pretty much worshipping it. The TV, that is, not the candy.
"Oh, House," the Authoress gushed disgustingly and fangirlishly, "You are so awesome. I love you. You and your cane and your nastiness to people. And your Vicodin! And. just. your AWESOMENESS."
Nadir blinked in surprise, the Siren giggled, and anyone else who happened to be in the hallway edged away from the creepy woman worshipping some rude guy in a mechanical box of some sort.
"HOOOOOOOUUUUUSE," said the Authoress, in the background.
"Er," said Nadir.
"Well," said the Siren, "I tried to turn it off before she realized. Why'd you do that, anyway?"
". . ." said Nadir, who really didn't know why he'd done that.
"Whatever," said the Siren, whose attention had inexplicably returned to the thing she was holding. She handed it to Nadir.
"I don't want any part of your scheme," she called over her shoulder as she walked down the hall, passing the Authoress along the way.
"Oh, Hugh," said the Authoress, who was now hugging the TV.
Nadir watched the Siren leave, then, with a groan, pointed the universal remote at the TV and pressed the off button.
". . . ." said the Authoress, falling backward from the TV. She blinked at the dark screen, then climbed slowly to her feet. She looked up toward the ceiling, raised her arms, and fell to her knees dramatically. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"If I were a judge," said Nadir, setting the remote atop the television, "I'd rate that as a 1.5."
The Authoress looked up at him and tried to resist the urge to grin. "What?"
"You suck," said Nadir. "You can't act."
"Well, fine!" the Authoress spat, climbing to her feet again to glare up at Nadir, who merely raised an eyebrow in response. "We'll see how you like it when you're eaten by a shark!"
"A shark," Nadir said flatly. "Unlikely. Frankly, I'd be more concerned if I got any more out of character."
That made the Authoress pause. "Hmm. You're right. Fine." She snapped her fingers, and the TV, and the universal remote, disappeared. "There ya go."
Nadir stared at the Authoress. "Stop that."
"Sure thing," said the Authoress, poofing away. Nadir looked around at the people staring at him, around the hallway, and blinked.
"Er," he said. "How did I get here?"
And he went to find the stairs.
"I will not squee," Mina stated flatly.
"Squee, dammit!" Morwenna demanded. "Prove you're my great grandniece!"
"Never. It is demeaning, and I refuse."
"It's fun."
"Perhaps, but the Authoress does it all the time. I refuse to sink to her level."
". . . You make a good point."
"That I do."
"You do," said Morwenna. "What were we talking about?"
"I have no idea," said Mina.
"Well, then," said Morwenna, looking about their joint suite blankly.
In another part of the continuum, the Authoress took a chainsaw to a giant slab of wall. Then she threw a shoe at it.