Sorry, have to poke fun at Mary Sue characterization. Really, I should be
finishing the next chapter of "A Waiting Star", but since I have an essay
to write, that may not be up until the weekend. I hate exams.
Disclaimer: I don't own Mary Sue's, I didn't create Middle Earth, and I sure as hell didn't try and take over the world.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Katie sighed. Try as she might, there was just no way this would turn out to be a dream. For starters, she was having more mood swings then a pregnant cow. One minute she was Phoenix, the slightly sarcastic ice queen, the next Katie, her long forgotten Tomboy self. But worst was... Lossefalme. The completely perfect, drop dead gorgeous, witty she elf from Hell. Wait, not technically an elf, as James had so kindly explained. She was supposedly the completely perfect, drop dead gorgeous, witty goddess from Hell. Well, Mordor at least.
She racked her mind, trying to remember where and what Mordor was, but all she came up with was an intense need to apply mascara. Oh well, it was only a matter of time before Lossefalme took over again.
From beside her, James muttered some indecipherable threat to the trees and Nick proved once and for all that some males just never grew up. For some odd reason, the fact that she had landed in a completely fictional world after getting caught "in the act" seemed perfectly natural.
They began to weave a path along the river's western shore, stopping from time to time to leave markers and orient themselves. It was on one of those rests that the rustle in the bushes was heard.
"Orcs," whispered James, crouching low.
Lossafalme paid no heed. "Orcs, yes, orcs. Elves once, you know. Captured by the dark Lord Sauron and corrupted. Tortured the poor dears..."
"First of all, it was Morgoth, Katie. And second of all, I meant..."
"ORCS!" The three cried out in unison as a swarm of the foul beasts surrounded them.
"I am Lossefalme, daughter of your master! I beseech thee, stop!"
The orcs started laughing. Think about it, if you were an evil baddie in the middle of the wild and a teenage girl that looks like she's cry if she broke a nail tells you to stop because she is the child of all that is evil in the world, what would you do?
Unfortunately for them, Mary Sues HATE being laughed at. Pulling the knowledge of an ancient craft known as High Pitch Shrieking from the deep recesses of her ancient mind, Lossefalme attacked.
"Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!"
The orcs beat a hasty retreat, whimpering and clutching bleeding ears as they did so.
"Bloody yrchs." She muttered.
~*~*~
It was some time later that she felt the prickling sensation of being watched. Katie turned in time to see a large figure move into the shadows. They were being watched! Before she could raise a warning, James yelled out.
"Elen sila lumenn omentilmo!"
Before she could demand a translation, the answer came unbidden to mind. A greeting. Either too much time around James and his insanity, or she had just developed the ability to speak a language previously unknown to her.
"You have kind words, mortal. But your presence is still a mystery."
That clinched it. Enough time around James had taught her that the inhabitants of Middle Earth did not speak English, and she had understood that.
Or maybe not.
"I thought you guys had your own little language going on? I mean, the common tongue is ENGLISH!?!? The fans have been cheated!"
Eight men emerged from the grove of nearby trees. Or more precisely, two men, a dwarf, an elf and four hobbits emerged from the grove of nearby trees.
Phoenix shrieked!
"Who are they?" she managed to ask, before swooning.
"That," James said in a slightly mocking tone, "would be the Fellowship."
"Uh uh. No way, José. Where is Orlando Bloom with his hot prancing, or studly Argon?"
"Book verse. And it's Aragorn. Or Estel, Strider, Elfstone."
Phoenix seemed oblivious to the explanation. As James droned on about the history of Isildur's heir, she stared in absolute horror at the sight before her. An elf, or what she assumed was an elf, stood with a grim expression on his face and his hand on the shaft of a bow that looked much more menacing in real life. Golden hair and a muscular body. Definitely screaming masculine. Where was Legolas? Four undersized men stared at the beautiful maiden before them, and managed to remind her of the little boy she used to babysit, whose greatest pleasure was peeking down her shirt. A dirty and bearded dwarf was petting what seemed to be strands of hair, and a graying man that looked as if personal hygiene ranked about par with washing toilets looked at her with amusement in his eyes. The only one that seemed borderline normal was a fair haired man, though he was fiercely clutching a horn.
She sighed. This wasn't going to be as easy as it looked.
*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*
Hmm, not where I want to be by the end of the chapter, so chapter 4 should be coming soon! A traditional Mary Sue heritage, more personality confusion, a speech that moves the Fellowship (towards their weapons of choice), and a brief appearance from Gollum.
Disclaimer: I don't own Mary Sue's, I didn't create Middle Earth, and I sure as hell didn't try and take over the world.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Katie sighed. Try as she might, there was just no way this would turn out to be a dream. For starters, she was having more mood swings then a pregnant cow. One minute she was Phoenix, the slightly sarcastic ice queen, the next Katie, her long forgotten Tomboy self. But worst was... Lossefalme. The completely perfect, drop dead gorgeous, witty she elf from Hell. Wait, not technically an elf, as James had so kindly explained. She was supposedly the completely perfect, drop dead gorgeous, witty goddess from Hell. Well, Mordor at least.
She racked her mind, trying to remember where and what Mordor was, but all she came up with was an intense need to apply mascara. Oh well, it was only a matter of time before Lossefalme took over again.
From beside her, James muttered some indecipherable threat to the trees and Nick proved once and for all that some males just never grew up. For some odd reason, the fact that she had landed in a completely fictional world after getting caught "in the act" seemed perfectly natural.
They began to weave a path along the river's western shore, stopping from time to time to leave markers and orient themselves. It was on one of those rests that the rustle in the bushes was heard.
"Orcs," whispered James, crouching low.
Lossafalme paid no heed. "Orcs, yes, orcs. Elves once, you know. Captured by the dark Lord Sauron and corrupted. Tortured the poor dears..."
"First of all, it was Morgoth, Katie. And second of all, I meant..."
"ORCS!" The three cried out in unison as a swarm of the foul beasts surrounded them.
"I am Lossefalme, daughter of your master! I beseech thee, stop!"
The orcs started laughing. Think about it, if you were an evil baddie in the middle of the wild and a teenage girl that looks like she's cry if she broke a nail tells you to stop because she is the child of all that is evil in the world, what would you do?
Unfortunately for them, Mary Sues HATE being laughed at. Pulling the knowledge of an ancient craft known as High Pitch Shrieking from the deep recesses of her ancient mind, Lossefalme attacked.
"Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!"
The orcs beat a hasty retreat, whimpering and clutching bleeding ears as they did so.
"Bloody yrchs." She muttered.
~*~*~
It was some time later that she felt the prickling sensation of being watched. Katie turned in time to see a large figure move into the shadows. They were being watched! Before she could raise a warning, James yelled out.
"Elen sila lumenn omentilmo!"
Before she could demand a translation, the answer came unbidden to mind. A greeting. Either too much time around James and his insanity, or she had just developed the ability to speak a language previously unknown to her.
"You have kind words, mortal. But your presence is still a mystery."
That clinched it. Enough time around James had taught her that the inhabitants of Middle Earth did not speak English, and she had understood that.
Or maybe not.
"I thought you guys had your own little language going on? I mean, the common tongue is ENGLISH!?!? The fans have been cheated!"
Eight men emerged from the grove of nearby trees. Or more precisely, two men, a dwarf, an elf and four hobbits emerged from the grove of nearby trees.
Phoenix shrieked!
"Who are they?" she managed to ask, before swooning.
"That," James said in a slightly mocking tone, "would be the Fellowship."
"Uh uh. No way, José. Where is Orlando Bloom with his hot prancing, or studly Argon?"
"Book verse. And it's Aragorn. Or Estel, Strider, Elfstone."
Phoenix seemed oblivious to the explanation. As James droned on about the history of Isildur's heir, she stared in absolute horror at the sight before her. An elf, or what she assumed was an elf, stood with a grim expression on his face and his hand on the shaft of a bow that looked much more menacing in real life. Golden hair and a muscular body. Definitely screaming masculine. Where was Legolas? Four undersized men stared at the beautiful maiden before them, and managed to remind her of the little boy she used to babysit, whose greatest pleasure was peeking down her shirt. A dirty and bearded dwarf was petting what seemed to be strands of hair, and a graying man that looked as if personal hygiene ranked about par with washing toilets looked at her with amusement in his eyes. The only one that seemed borderline normal was a fair haired man, though he was fiercely clutching a horn.
She sighed. This wasn't going to be as easy as it looked.
*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*
Hmm, not where I want to be by the end of the chapter, so chapter 4 should be coming soon! A traditional Mary Sue heritage, more personality confusion, a speech that moves the Fellowship (towards their weapons of choice), and a brief appearance from Gollum.