Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. It belongs
to JRR Tolkien. All Authors and OCs used with permission. Newmoon owns a
scene in this chapter. She came up with the idea.
Author's Note:
Extreme, extreme apologies to anyone who feels anything disturbed by the end of this chapter. It burned uss when I wrotess somess of itsss, yes, it did. I freeezes to imagine some of itsss nassstinesssesss... Saw LOTR:TT for the fourth time, and I am really starting to get attached to Gollum. But of course, Joe on his precious, absolutely adorbale winged beast was a definite favorite scene of mine!
The File Cabinet
"Please, please, you have the flashlight, right?"
Amarth fumbled with the long, bright orange tube before finally managing to switch it on. A very feeble light shone out of the lighted end, as if the glow was malnourished. A sigh of despair encircled the room.
"Evil, evil, evil cave!" muttered Europa.
"Is anyone in here claustrophobic?" asked Jiana, slowly putting a hand to her mouth.
"I am!" whimpered Vana, her eyes squinting shut.
"We are eternally doomed to chaotic escapades and toil, aren't we?" I asked monotonously.
"It seems so," sighed Phantom.
"Well, at least to get this escapade on the right road," began Penelope.
"Which it is totally not on the right road," said Kitty, "and completely off course!"
"Well, who knows?" suggested Hoshiko. "Frodo once said 'he didn't mean for a lot of things to happen', and well---"
"Turns out everything that happened to Frodo and Sam," said Sammy, "was actually meant to happen!"
"So you're saying...?" said Coffeegirl.
"What I said before!" I shouted. "We are eternally doomed to chaotic escapades and toil!"
"Exactly!"
~*~
Beginning the battle, sitting in the highest peaks of the blackened land, looked almost like a chess board, except instead of evenly dispensed black and white tiles along the knolls and plains that made up the battlefield, there was a straight line directly in the middle. One half of the field was the powerful, invincible, and perfect Mary-Sue army. As for the other half, it was the opposing army; just the opposing army. Several of the OCs were omitted from qualifying to be in a Dark Army, so Onikunshu had loosely classified them as simply the opposing army.
The Pawns of the opposing army were well-hidden amongst the eluded areas of the scene: in small caverns, behind rock knolls, underneath artificial shelves of dirt. Knights were well-armed, sitting or standing quietly in their positions near the front-line. Bishops and Rooks were very high in the peaks, ever watchful for invading foes. Most of them were armed with bow and arrow. As for King and Queen, the most important and most powerful pieces on the chess board... well, there were none. But there were two very grouchy and intolerable-feeling generals sitting in the back center.
"I want to go to sleep," muttered Onikunshu, putting his head in his hands.
"Here," grumbled Morikallo, handing his fellow his mug. "Try this."
It was as black as Shadow and as hot as a flaming coal, but the moment Onikunshu took a swallow of it---
"Wow!" He handed the mug back to Morikallo. "That's tasty! What is that? Where'd you get that?"
Morikallo wiped the rim of the mug with his sleeve before he took another sip. "Remember how you told the soldiers to relax before battle?" Onikunshu nodded. "It's called coffee." There was a whip-like snap as Morikallo pointed to the side. "Take a right, go down the flight of stairs on the left, over the six-foot wide gap between the tall rock and the wide rock, then right, left, left, right, left, and you'll find the microwave, the sink, and the coffeepot; you can't miss it."
"...Can't I just take an immediate left as soon as I stand up?"
Morikallo's brown eyes darted left. The microwave, the sink, and the coffeepot were embedded in the rocks, complete with a small tray of tea packets, and a cabinet of complimentary coffee mugs. He grinned. "You can go that way too."
~*~
"Just to make things even worse!" cried Vana. "This isn't just a cave!"
"It's a tomb," concluded Sammy, not daring to prod a nearby corpse that hung over a rock with an insane smile still plastered on its skeletal face.
"Can I turn the flashlight off?" asked Amarth. "It'll save batteries... and make the corpses go away."
"But then we might not be able to find a way out!" countered Jiana.
"Newmoon!" I hissed, slightly hovering over her shoulder. "Don't touch that!"
"There might be a map in here," said Newmoon in reply.
With a quick jolt, she yanked out an enormous book from the grasp of a nearby corpse. It was absolutely tarnished with dust and wreck. Dark stains spattered on the front cover; dark stains which suspiciously, horrifyingly, terribly, painfully looked like---
"Ketchup?"
"No way! It's barbecue sauce!"
"Shouldn't it be blood?"
There was silence among all.
"Maybe."
Newmoon gave a disgusted cry as she dropped the volume onto the ground. With a strangely tremendous thud, the book teetered on its spine for a moment before plopping to the side. A random page in the very back (or front) of the volume opened itself to us. Black ink was strewn across the ancient parchment leaf in a struggling scrawl. Newmoon bent closer to the book. Amarth's flashlight dawned on it.
"What does it say?" asked Coffeegirl.
"We drove out Mary-Sues from the great gate and guard," answered Newmoon, her eyes concentrating hard on the page.
"Accounts of a previous Mary-Sue battle?" suggested Phantom.
"We slew many in the darkness," continued Newmoon. "Some dude named, argh. I can't read that name. Well, he died. He was a good fighter. Oh well. Hey! Someone drew an sad face right next to that line. Erm, shaft... seat... mithril...accursed ketchup?" She skipped past a large dark stain at the bottom of the leaf, and turned the page. The writing turned to an even messier, more frightened print. "...horrible... suffer... We... uh-oh..." She took a deep breath. "We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and the second hall.... We cannot get... out..." Finally the scrawling ended in a tragic bleed of ink that teared down the page. That was the end of the volume. Newmoon dropped the book, and let it lay as still as death on the floor.
Much silence there was.
"Kinda' funny how that totally impersonated the Fellowship's doom in Moria, eh? Ha, ha--"
Smack!
"Ow!"
~*~
"What are you neanderthals doing?!"
"Chill, Angawende," I replied coolly, taking another sip of my diet soda. "We're taking a break. We're gonna' go to war soon, so we're just gonna' lay back and lax for a while."
For some odd reason, Angawende shrieked and smacked a hand to her forehead.
"You are a very strange Mary-Sue, Anga," commented Estelia. She yawned a petite yawn, politely putting a hand to her lips.
"You're all idiots!" screamed Angawende. "What the hell do you think you are all doing? You're weapons haven't been sharpened, you haven't put on your armor, and your quivers are empty! Cuenaltidwathonin, look at the opposing team! See how they're waiting and prepared?"
My eyes are twice as sharp as a regular elf's, so I could easily see the mean old army waiting in the Moredoor place. The first thing I saw were a bunch of totally, totally hottttt guyz. Some of them thought that they were well hidden--- allot of them had dark hair and green eyes and pale skin--- but then there was these other guyz. Some of them were elfs and some were mortles. Some had bows and arrows, and others had swords. Ther wer these three guys with guns in the front line. I thot they wer cute!!!111
Thwap!
"Ouchie!"
"STOP STARING AT THE OPPOSING TEAM!" boomed Anga, smacking me hard in the head with her clipboard. I burst into tears. Estelia helped me.
"You should not hit the girl, Anga," Estelia countered. "That's like, very very mean of you!"
Angawende was silent for a while, looking at us all funny. And suddenly, "...ha! Ha! I laugh at your pain! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" I started crying again.
"Stop it, Anga!" cried Lestinaguenadin heroically. She aimed a pointy arrow at the general's face.
And to all of our suprizes, Angawende punched Lestinaguenadin in the stomach. She coughed out blood and fell to the floor, dead. Anga looked down at her dead body on the ground for a while befor picking her up by the collar and holding her up in the air with one fist. "See what happens," she announced to the rest of us, "when you defy your captain? You die!" She threw the dead body to the side where it tumbled over the edge and off a cliff. "Now your captain says, for the second time, prepare for full-battle! Now!"
~*~
"And you'll be firing cream pies?"
"If it sticks in their hair, it might really mess them up!"
"...Wonderful."
Onikunshu did not know how to force out a grin for the eagerly smiling muse, bobbing up and down in excitement, bright green cap spinning on his head.
"You are totally insane," commented Muse #4. Muse #2 nodded.
As captain of the West-high-lodge system, I was sitting nearby, watching the spirit-forms start to bop each other on the head. Onikunshu sighed and put a hand to his forehead. However, as he noticed my amused observations of the three OCs, he looked up and grunted, "What are you looking at, Naz... gul..." The rest of his sentence melted into silence. Something behind me, I believe, had severely caught his attention. I had known Onikunshu ever since the day he was brought into the File Cabinet; this new look was absolutely not like him. I turned around to identify the cause.
Upon discovering it, I wanted to scream.
"Whatever mouth you have, Wraith," muttered Narcisuss, her usual soprano tone turned to a mixture of a bass and alto, "you had better close it now, or I'll turn you back into a flying horse on fire." Her usual apparel of the green and silver dress was completely revolutionized to a gothic, black robe and cloak. Her hood shadowed her face, but her green eyes illuminated like lightning.
She whacked my shoulder with that familiar... evil staff. It was a dark silver shade, as was the buckle on her belt, and judging by the end of the staff that held a seeing-stone, Narcisuss clearly believed in "it's not evil without horns." Ugly pinnacles like claws protected the stone. I hated that staff. I hated that stone. Why? Because it reminded me of how many times the Istari Saruman would rant and ramble to me about whether he wanted his nails to match his robes or his palantiri. Bloody evil lectures.
"Do you want to be crawling on all fours like a beast?" she inquired. I shook my head. "Then sit up and keep watch more attentively!"
In a swish of black and in a quickened pace of leather boots brushing against rugged stone, she left the west watch, and headed off to her own post, the east watch. As she walked out of sight, I noticed that Onikunshu was still staring after her.
"...Who was that?" he inquired softly, somewhat dumbstruck by her lost presence.
"Of all people," I muttered, "I thought you'd might know best. That was Narcisuss, the bloody evil and horrible sorceress of Mordor. She's commander of the East-high-lodge system, remember?"
"...That was not Narcisuss."
"Yes, it was."
"No way."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Argh!" My sword came out of my sheathe in my anger. "That was Narcisuss! I know it's her! She's the one that killed a dozen for amusement, tore apart half of Middle-earth, crushed families, burned cities, and called all of nature's power and nature's evil to her whim!" I prepared to bring the hilt down on his head. "What is not hard to understand about that?!"
Onikunshu did not reply. Instead, he pointed up. "Your hilt."
"Yes, my hilt." I pulled my sword down and fingered the hilt. "It's a lovely craft, isn't it?"
"Absolutely lovely..." The Dragon Lord stared at it for a while. It was then that I finally realized why he was so fascinated with it. "Wait till I tell the Author! Ooh, she's going to be shocked! Bwahahahaha!" It was not a surprise to see him jump over the cliff and take off as a dragon, laughing and shouting in his own tongue.
I cursed in Mordorian and sheathed my blade into my scabbard. Naheka would not be pleased to know what the hilt of my sword looked like.
Actually... where was Naheka?
You barfed? So did I.
And to Vana, just a special note from Joe.
Vana-
It somewhat aches me to tell you that you are actually not the first one.
-Joe
Author's Note:
Extreme, extreme apologies to anyone who feels anything disturbed by the end of this chapter. It burned uss when I wrotess somess of itsss, yes, it did. I freeezes to imagine some of itsss nassstinesssesss... Saw LOTR:TT for the fourth time, and I am really starting to get attached to Gollum. But of course, Joe on his precious, absolutely adorbale winged beast was a definite favorite scene of mine!
The File Cabinet
"Please, please, you have the flashlight, right?"
Amarth fumbled with the long, bright orange tube before finally managing to switch it on. A very feeble light shone out of the lighted end, as if the glow was malnourished. A sigh of despair encircled the room.
"Evil, evil, evil cave!" muttered Europa.
"Is anyone in here claustrophobic?" asked Jiana, slowly putting a hand to her mouth.
"I am!" whimpered Vana, her eyes squinting shut.
"We are eternally doomed to chaotic escapades and toil, aren't we?" I asked monotonously.
"It seems so," sighed Phantom.
"Well, at least to get this escapade on the right road," began Penelope.
"Which it is totally not on the right road," said Kitty, "and completely off course!"
"Well, who knows?" suggested Hoshiko. "Frodo once said 'he didn't mean for a lot of things to happen', and well---"
"Turns out everything that happened to Frodo and Sam," said Sammy, "was actually meant to happen!"
"So you're saying...?" said Coffeegirl.
"What I said before!" I shouted. "We are eternally doomed to chaotic escapades and toil!"
"Exactly!"
~*~
Beginning the battle, sitting in the highest peaks of the blackened land, looked almost like a chess board, except instead of evenly dispensed black and white tiles along the knolls and plains that made up the battlefield, there was a straight line directly in the middle. One half of the field was the powerful, invincible, and perfect Mary-Sue army. As for the other half, it was the opposing army; just the opposing army. Several of the OCs were omitted from qualifying to be in a Dark Army, so Onikunshu had loosely classified them as simply the opposing army.
The Pawns of the opposing army were well-hidden amongst the eluded areas of the scene: in small caverns, behind rock knolls, underneath artificial shelves of dirt. Knights were well-armed, sitting or standing quietly in their positions near the front-line. Bishops and Rooks were very high in the peaks, ever watchful for invading foes. Most of them were armed with bow and arrow. As for King and Queen, the most important and most powerful pieces on the chess board... well, there were none. But there were two very grouchy and intolerable-feeling generals sitting in the back center.
"I want to go to sleep," muttered Onikunshu, putting his head in his hands.
"Here," grumbled Morikallo, handing his fellow his mug. "Try this."
It was as black as Shadow and as hot as a flaming coal, but the moment Onikunshu took a swallow of it---
"Wow!" He handed the mug back to Morikallo. "That's tasty! What is that? Where'd you get that?"
Morikallo wiped the rim of the mug with his sleeve before he took another sip. "Remember how you told the soldiers to relax before battle?" Onikunshu nodded. "It's called coffee." There was a whip-like snap as Morikallo pointed to the side. "Take a right, go down the flight of stairs on the left, over the six-foot wide gap between the tall rock and the wide rock, then right, left, left, right, left, and you'll find the microwave, the sink, and the coffeepot; you can't miss it."
"...Can't I just take an immediate left as soon as I stand up?"
Morikallo's brown eyes darted left. The microwave, the sink, and the coffeepot were embedded in the rocks, complete with a small tray of tea packets, and a cabinet of complimentary coffee mugs. He grinned. "You can go that way too."
~*~
"Just to make things even worse!" cried Vana. "This isn't just a cave!"
"It's a tomb," concluded Sammy, not daring to prod a nearby corpse that hung over a rock with an insane smile still plastered on its skeletal face.
"Can I turn the flashlight off?" asked Amarth. "It'll save batteries... and make the corpses go away."
"But then we might not be able to find a way out!" countered Jiana.
"Newmoon!" I hissed, slightly hovering over her shoulder. "Don't touch that!"
"There might be a map in here," said Newmoon in reply.
With a quick jolt, she yanked out an enormous book from the grasp of a nearby corpse. It was absolutely tarnished with dust and wreck. Dark stains spattered on the front cover; dark stains which suspiciously, horrifyingly, terribly, painfully looked like---
"Ketchup?"
"No way! It's barbecue sauce!"
"Shouldn't it be blood?"
There was silence among all.
"Maybe."
Newmoon gave a disgusted cry as she dropped the volume onto the ground. With a strangely tremendous thud, the book teetered on its spine for a moment before plopping to the side. A random page in the very back (or front) of the volume opened itself to us. Black ink was strewn across the ancient parchment leaf in a struggling scrawl. Newmoon bent closer to the book. Amarth's flashlight dawned on it.
"What does it say?" asked Coffeegirl.
"We drove out Mary-Sues from the great gate and guard," answered Newmoon, her eyes concentrating hard on the page.
"Accounts of a previous Mary-Sue battle?" suggested Phantom.
"We slew many in the darkness," continued Newmoon. "Some dude named, argh. I can't read that name. Well, he died. He was a good fighter. Oh well. Hey! Someone drew an sad face right next to that line. Erm, shaft... seat... mithril...accursed ketchup?" She skipped past a large dark stain at the bottom of the leaf, and turned the page. The writing turned to an even messier, more frightened print. "...horrible... suffer... We... uh-oh..." She took a deep breath. "We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and the second hall.... We cannot get... out..." Finally the scrawling ended in a tragic bleed of ink that teared down the page. That was the end of the volume. Newmoon dropped the book, and let it lay as still as death on the floor.
Much silence there was.
"Kinda' funny how that totally impersonated the Fellowship's doom in Moria, eh? Ha, ha--"
Smack!
"Ow!"
~*~
"What are you neanderthals doing?!"
"Chill, Angawende," I replied coolly, taking another sip of my diet soda. "We're taking a break. We're gonna' go to war soon, so we're just gonna' lay back and lax for a while."
For some odd reason, Angawende shrieked and smacked a hand to her forehead.
"You are a very strange Mary-Sue, Anga," commented Estelia. She yawned a petite yawn, politely putting a hand to her lips.
"You're all idiots!" screamed Angawende. "What the hell do you think you are all doing? You're weapons haven't been sharpened, you haven't put on your armor, and your quivers are empty! Cuenaltidwathonin, look at the opposing team! See how they're waiting and prepared?"
My eyes are twice as sharp as a regular elf's, so I could easily see the mean old army waiting in the Moredoor place. The first thing I saw were a bunch of totally, totally hottttt guyz. Some of them thought that they were well hidden--- allot of them had dark hair and green eyes and pale skin--- but then there was these other guyz. Some of them were elfs and some were mortles. Some had bows and arrows, and others had swords. Ther wer these three guys with guns in the front line. I thot they wer cute!!!111
Thwap!
"Ouchie!"
"STOP STARING AT THE OPPOSING TEAM!" boomed Anga, smacking me hard in the head with her clipboard. I burst into tears. Estelia helped me.
"You should not hit the girl, Anga," Estelia countered. "That's like, very very mean of you!"
Angawende was silent for a while, looking at us all funny. And suddenly, "...ha! Ha! I laugh at your pain! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" I started crying again.
"Stop it, Anga!" cried Lestinaguenadin heroically. She aimed a pointy arrow at the general's face.
And to all of our suprizes, Angawende punched Lestinaguenadin in the stomach. She coughed out blood and fell to the floor, dead. Anga looked down at her dead body on the ground for a while befor picking her up by the collar and holding her up in the air with one fist. "See what happens," she announced to the rest of us, "when you defy your captain? You die!" She threw the dead body to the side where it tumbled over the edge and off a cliff. "Now your captain says, for the second time, prepare for full-battle! Now!"
~*~
"And you'll be firing cream pies?"
"If it sticks in their hair, it might really mess them up!"
"...Wonderful."
Onikunshu did not know how to force out a grin for the eagerly smiling muse, bobbing up and down in excitement, bright green cap spinning on his head.
"You are totally insane," commented Muse #4. Muse #2 nodded.
As captain of the West-high-lodge system, I was sitting nearby, watching the spirit-forms start to bop each other on the head. Onikunshu sighed and put a hand to his forehead. However, as he noticed my amused observations of the three OCs, he looked up and grunted, "What are you looking at, Naz... gul..." The rest of his sentence melted into silence. Something behind me, I believe, had severely caught his attention. I had known Onikunshu ever since the day he was brought into the File Cabinet; this new look was absolutely not like him. I turned around to identify the cause.
Upon discovering it, I wanted to scream.
"Whatever mouth you have, Wraith," muttered Narcisuss, her usual soprano tone turned to a mixture of a bass and alto, "you had better close it now, or I'll turn you back into a flying horse on fire." Her usual apparel of the green and silver dress was completely revolutionized to a gothic, black robe and cloak. Her hood shadowed her face, but her green eyes illuminated like lightning.
She whacked my shoulder with that familiar... evil staff. It was a dark silver shade, as was the buckle on her belt, and judging by the end of the staff that held a seeing-stone, Narcisuss clearly believed in "it's not evil without horns." Ugly pinnacles like claws protected the stone. I hated that staff. I hated that stone. Why? Because it reminded me of how many times the Istari Saruman would rant and ramble to me about whether he wanted his nails to match his robes or his palantiri. Bloody evil lectures.
"Do you want to be crawling on all fours like a beast?" she inquired. I shook my head. "Then sit up and keep watch more attentively!"
In a swish of black and in a quickened pace of leather boots brushing against rugged stone, she left the west watch, and headed off to her own post, the east watch. As she walked out of sight, I noticed that Onikunshu was still staring after her.
"...Who was that?" he inquired softly, somewhat dumbstruck by her lost presence.
"Of all people," I muttered, "I thought you'd might know best. That was Narcisuss, the bloody evil and horrible sorceress of Mordor. She's commander of the East-high-lodge system, remember?"
"...That was not Narcisuss."
"Yes, it was."
"No way."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Argh!" My sword came out of my sheathe in my anger. "That was Narcisuss! I know it's her! She's the one that killed a dozen for amusement, tore apart half of Middle-earth, crushed families, burned cities, and called all of nature's power and nature's evil to her whim!" I prepared to bring the hilt down on his head. "What is not hard to understand about that?!"
Onikunshu did not reply. Instead, he pointed up. "Your hilt."
"Yes, my hilt." I pulled my sword down and fingered the hilt. "It's a lovely craft, isn't it?"
"Absolutely lovely..." The Dragon Lord stared at it for a while. It was then that I finally realized why he was so fascinated with it. "Wait till I tell the Author! Ooh, she's going to be shocked! Bwahahahaha!" It was not a surprise to see him jump over the cliff and take off as a dragon, laughing and shouting in his own tongue.
I cursed in Mordorian and sheathed my blade into my scabbard. Naheka would not be pleased to know what the hilt of my sword looked like.
Actually... where was Naheka?
You barfed? So did I.
And to Vana, just a special note from Joe.
Vana-
It somewhat aches me to tell you that you are actually not the first one.
-Joe