Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. It belongs
to JRR Tolkien. All Author's and OCs used with permission.
The File Cabinet
"Damn her," thought Onikunshu, turning over on his side as he proceeded to get a firm grip on the arrow that had been launched into his abdomen.
"Don't pull that out!" shouted Wisdom, starting to run over to the wounded one. "You'll make it even worse."
"It cannot be any worse than falling before the battle even started!" he retorted angrily.
"Yes it could! You may have died now, but you could die beyond—" He winced as Onikunshu monotonously yanked out the arrow. "…beyond… hope."
Onikunshu glared at the mortal cleric. Over moments, his stare softened. "I don't think it's possible for an OC to die beyond hope. Only Authors can do that." Then, he blinked; then, he fell over. The picture would be complete if he had X's over his eyes. How stupidly hilarious.
"Oh my…" mouthed Angawende to herself as a golden light shot a clear pathway through the battlefield, coming straight towards her. She had released her black steed in her confidence, and strode right through the wreck with multiple weapons at hand. The White General's bewildered expression soon glided into a deeply amused grin.
A sudden flash of white nearly blinded her.
"Just give it up Trisha," growled Angawende. She had a single finger against the Saiyan's impressive high-kick. "You may be a supernatural being with Mary-Sue blood running thick in your veins, but you shall never be powerful enough to rival with me. This land is LOTR dominant, and therefore the subject more closely related to LOTR shall conquer."
"Would you just shut up and fight?" grunted Trisha. Her opponent grinned.
"My pleasure."
With two Mary-Sues fighting one another, it was like Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon but with fighting skills increased by at least thirty fold. It was impossible to explain blow by blow, but whatever kick Trisha made or punch thrown, no matter the strength of speed, the Mary-Sue mistress evaded every blow.
Then, with one swift and impossibly graceful stroke, Angawende held Trisha by the throat, fingers on the verge of choking her to death. Trisha had to rely on her own struggling strength to keep the enemy's grip from killing her. "And you called yourself a Saiyan earlier?" yawned Angawende. "You disgrace all that run in your bloodline."
"I have not yet begun to fight," retorted the choking one furiously.
"What a coincidence! Neither have I!"
"Stop it, Naurglahad."
Odd how saviors have the tendency to appear at the right time. Well unfortunately, as Angawende rotated gracefully on the spot, no one was there.
"…hey! Over here!"
Angawende snorted to herself. She whipped to face left, right, behind her, and below her. But she cursed looked upwards into the sky where a black shadow loomed upon a shroud of dark mist. 'Twas a new opponent. A very worthy opponent. An opponent whose blood was worth spilling for the sake of revenge. She turned to the female saiyan and muttered, "I shall deal with you later." With a flick of her wrist, she thrust Trisha aside where she slid a quarter mile across the dirt and landed in a cluster of Mary-Sues. Without a need for orders, they took her up by the arms and dragged her away.
"THIS IS EMBARRASSING!" she hollered in annoyance. "IT'S STUPID AND UNREASONABLE!"
"Like, chill out," said one of the Sues. "Like, whatcha' yellin' for?"
"I'M YELLING FOR YOU MARY-SUES TO GET YOUR GRIMY HANDS OFF OF ME!"
"Be still, the Iron Maiden speaks," said Angawende, lifting a hand up to silence the saiyan. She turned her attention to the opponent, the Dark Maiden, who spoke not a word nor inhaled a single breath of true life. She was long dead, now, and could not be saved lest her temperance was fulfilled. As her feet finally touched the ground, a black staff came into existence in her right hand. A hood covered a deeply shadowed face, but familiar green eyes glared at her through the darkness. The figure then hunched, as if tired and weary of either age or toil; perhaps both.
"So..." drawled the White General with the highest slur of amusement, "a sorceress who knows what it feels like to be rejected, hurt, beaten, and disciplined... yet has felt love, compassion, truth, and fairness... opposes I? Were you not beautiful and desired in the life of goodness you once lived? When the heart of a Mary-Sue was within you?"
"Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth," spat the Dark Maiden. "You have tried me once, and you shall not try me again. I did not pass through a thousand deaths of torment and hate to deal with the creation of a mindless fangirl."
"You mock your creator also, as you say this," replied Angawende smoothly. "Hypocritical, aren't we? I sincerely hope I have not inherited it from you, dear mother."
"It is good to know that a child recognizes its parent." She shook her head and her hood came off. Narcisuss ultimately revealed herself on the battlefield as a near exact replica of Angawende. It was almost an exact reenactment of what happened in some random chapter of a really long story about how Middle-earth was doomed but then this special person just came along and saved the world and kinda' fell in love and broke a leg all at the same time... I think.
"And the parent worries about the condition of the child," said Narcisuss with a soft gaze, "when the child joins an army that opposes her mother and father's policies."
Angawende opened her mouth to reply but paused mid-sentence. She shook her head and drew a sword. "This is going to turn into a stupid family conflict flashback. Can we get on and kill each other?"
"...Fine! Fine! Avoid the drama! Your father was just the same." She too drew a sword from her belt and attained a comfortable grip on the handle. But as she prepared to strike first, Angawende stopped her.
"Wait! Are you mocking my father?"
"No, I'm just saying that he just wasn't the one to stick around for sap."
"Sap? So now you're saying that good memories is equivalent to sap?" "Wrong again!" "No, you're wrong again! No wonder he dislikes you hanging around him!" "Don't talk to me like that, little missy!" "Why not?" "I'm your mother!" "You never acted like it! You were never there for me!" "Your father wasn't there either!" "So now you're going to blame everything on him?" "No!" "Then why are you doing it now?" "I love your father better than anyone could imagine!" "Hah! Tis folly! I've known him closer than you! I'm his daughter! I love him more!" "Silence! I love him in a way you don't!" "And so do I! So he loves me more!" "Don't tell me what he thinks! Besides, I know he loves me more." "Child abuse!" "Get over it." "Daddy loves me more than you!" "Daddy loves Mommy better than his unwanted daughter!" "You're lying!" "You're lying!"
"Well..." sighed Angawende in a hoarse voice, dusting her sleeves off. "There's only one way to prove who is loved more by my father..."
"You are absolutely right," answered Narcisuss in the same tone.
A moment of silence between them passed.
Foom!
"HE'S MINE!" screamed Angawende as she rivaled in a race with her mother.
"KEEP YOUR TONGUE! HE'S MINE!" shot Narcisuss in reply.
They kept shouting at each other like that for the next five minutes, pummeling their way to the Dark Lands to find the object of affection, who at the moment was slowly and tragically dying with a gap in his rib where the arrow had pierced him... oh, and drinking from a can of Dr. Pepper with a laptop in front of him. The portable computer was playing a DVD at the moment.
"If this is what death feels like," Onikunshu concluded placidly to himself, " then I should try dying more often!"
~*~
"I hate you," we said to each other simultaneously. We turned to the arguing and beating crowd that swelled in anger before us, still fighting one another with tooth and nail. Together, my clone and I ran into the energy and began prying everyone off each other no matter what side they stood on. Gradually, the twenty-four Authors stopped struggling altogether and stared at us in mid-motion.
The Mary-Sues were fretting over their garments and accessories, as my original companions were busy nursing wounds given by repeated eye-poking and stabbing of hair clips. It was a horribly tragic sight to see.
"What is this about?" barked the head of the Mary-Sues, the girl in black robes. "Why did you stop our battle?"
"So that you wouldn't kill us," muttered Vana.
"Or we wouldn't kill you," said Europa.
"We were both dying," sighed Jiana.
There was a moment of tired silence that slipped by without notice.
"It's all wrong," I said dully. "We shouldn't be physically hurting each other like this. We're acting like uncivilized human beings!"
"I'm an elf!" exclaimed one of the Mary-Sues. "I don't have any proof, but the moment I saw Legolas, I knew it was true!"
"...Whatever." I put my head in my hands as I sat down on the ground. It was not long before everyone else decided to have a seat. "Well, the point is that there has to be a better way to reach a compromise other than pounding each other's faces."
"We were trying to compromise?" asked Coffeegirl.
"No, we were trying to destroy you all," answered a Mary-Sue.
"Well we can't destroy each other," said my clone. "We can't destroy anyone. Let's just talk about this instead."
"Okay," said Phantom. "We'll talk then! Why did you decide to hate us? What made you... people attack us?"
"You're so mean to us!" cried a Sue. "We try hard, but you people just don't understand us!"
"We try to help you," replied Sammy.
"But you never listen!" said Kitty.
"You flame us all the time!" whined a second Sue. "You're not nice! Even if we ask you not to flame!"
"Who flamed?" asked Penelope.
"You did!"
"It's called creative critique," I said. "It's supposed to help you be a better writer. You just need to look up and face reality."
The Mary-Sues, now that they were cornered to answer our explanations, fell silent and hung their heads. A sigh of exhaustion echoed around the room.
Thud! A crash was heard from overhead, followed by a deep scraping noise.
"The battle!" exclaimed Amarth. "They've started!"
"They should've started quite some time ago," grumbled Hoshiko. "They were ready for combat when we left."
"When we were attacked," said Newmoon.
Then the noises stopped. No one spoke.
"Is it just me," whispered Phantom, "or is it just really quiet?"
"Too quiet," muttered several people, both Sue and non-Sue.
...Silence...
That's when the tunnel started caving in. Rocks crashed into the lair row by row, yet fell in a pattern very similar to dominoes.
"Well," I said in an optimistic tone, "if the ceiling is falling apart on the far left, then something must be happening on the far left."
"And the activity is starting to move towards us," said my clone in the same tone.
Then the rocks stopped caving in. Very odd.
"Now, we're safe."
A smile of comfort appeared lightly on everyone's face. But, of course, the smile died when a giant boulder about thirty times the size of all twenty-four of us came crashing through the ceiling. Then, as if on wheels, the boulder started rolling towards us at an accelerating pace.
"We're going to get flattened if we stand here any longer, aren't we?"
Everyone nodded cheerfully and brightly.
"Hey. Can we run?"
"...That'd be a good idea."
We all stood there and nodded happily again. The boulder kept rolling towards us with no sign of stopping or slowing down. Still, we all stood there and nodded happily again.
"OH FOR GOODNESS' SAKE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"
The File Cabinet
"Damn her," thought Onikunshu, turning over on his side as he proceeded to get a firm grip on the arrow that had been launched into his abdomen.
"Don't pull that out!" shouted Wisdom, starting to run over to the wounded one. "You'll make it even worse."
"It cannot be any worse than falling before the battle even started!" he retorted angrily.
"Yes it could! You may have died now, but you could die beyond—" He winced as Onikunshu monotonously yanked out the arrow. "…beyond… hope."
Onikunshu glared at the mortal cleric. Over moments, his stare softened. "I don't think it's possible for an OC to die beyond hope. Only Authors can do that." Then, he blinked; then, he fell over. The picture would be complete if he had X's over his eyes. How stupidly hilarious.
"Oh my…" mouthed Angawende to herself as a golden light shot a clear pathway through the battlefield, coming straight towards her. She had released her black steed in her confidence, and strode right through the wreck with multiple weapons at hand. The White General's bewildered expression soon glided into a deeply amused grin.
A sudden flash of white nearly blinded her.
"Just give it up Trisha," growled Angawende. She had a single finger against the Saiyan's impressive high-kick. "You may be a supernatural being with Mary-Sue blood running thick in your veins, but you shall never be powerful enough to rival with me. This land is LOTR dominant, and therefore the subject more closely related to LOTR shall conquer."
"Would you just shut up and fight?" grunted Trisha. Her opponent grinned.
"My pleasure."
With two Mary-Sues fighting one another, it was like Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon but with fighting skills increased by at least thirty fold. It was impossible to explain blow by blow, but whatever kick Trisha made or punch thrown, no matter the strength of speed, the Mary-Sue mistress evaded every blow.
Then, with one swift and impossibly graceful stroke, Angawende held Trisha by the throat, fingers on the verge of choking her to death. Trisha had to rely on her own struggling strength to keep the enemy's grip from killing her. "And you called yourself a Saiyan earlier?" yawned Angawende. "You disgrace all that run in your bloodline."
"I have not yet begun to fight," retorted the choking one furiously.
"What a coincidence! Neither have I!"
"Stop it, Naurglahad."
Odd how saviors have the tendency to appear at the right time. Well unfortunately, as Angawende rotated gracefully on the spot, no one was there.
"…hey! Over here!"
Angawende snorted to herself. She whipped to face left, right, behind her, and below her. But she cursed looked upwards into the sky where a black shadow loomed upon a shroud of dark mist. 'Twas a new opponent. A very worthy opponent. An opponent whose blood was worth spilling for the sake of revenge. She turned to the female saiyan and muttered, "I shall deal with you later." With a flick of her wrist, she thrust Trisha aside where she slid a quarter mile across the dirt and landed in a cluster of Mary-Sues. Without a need for orders, they took her up by the arms and dragged her away.
"THIS IS EMBARRASSING!" she hollered in annoyance. "IT'S STUPID AND UNREASONABLE!"
"Like, chill out," said one of the Sues. "Like, whatcha' yellin' for?"
"I'M YELLING FOR YOU MARY-SUES TO GET YOUR GRIMY HANDS OFF OF ME!"
"Be still, the Iron Maiden speaks," said Angawende, lifting a hand up to silence the saiyan. She turned her attention to the opponent, the Dark Maiden, who spoke not a word nor inhaled a single breath of true life. She was long dead, now, and could not be saved lest her temperance was fulfilled. As her feet finally touched the ground, a black staff came into existence in her right hand. A hood covered a deeply shadowed face, but familiar green eyes glared at her through the darkness. The figure then hunched, as if tired and weary of either age or toil; perhaps both.
"So..." drawled the White General with the highest slur of amusement, "a sorceress who knows what it feels like to be rejected, hurt, beaten, and disciplined... yet has felt love, compassion, truth, and fairness... opposes I? Were you not beautiful and desired in the life of goodness you once lived? When the heart of a Mary-Sue was within you?"
"Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth," spat the Dark Maiden. "You have tried me once, and you shall not try me again. I did not pass through a thousand deaths of torment and hate to deal with the creation of a mindless fangirl."
"You mock your creator also, as you say this," replied Angawende smoothly. "Hypocritical, aren't we? I sincerely hope I have not inherited it from you, dear mother."
"It is good to know that a child recognizes its parent." She shook her head and her hood came off. Narcisuss ultimately revealed herself on the battlefield as a near exact replica of Angawende. It was almost an exact reenactment of what happened in some random chapter of a really long story about how Middle-earth was doomed but then this special person just came along and saved the world and kinda' fell in love and broke a leg all at the same time... I think.
"And the parent worries about the condition of the child," said Narcisuss with a soft gaze, "when the child joins an army that opposes her mother and father's policies."
Angawende opened her mouth to reply but paused mid-sentence. She shook her head and drew a sword. "This is going to turn into a stupid family conflict flashback. Can we get on and kill each other?"
"...Fine! Fine! Avoid the drama! Your father was just the same." She too drew a sword from her belt and attained a comfortable grip on the handle. But as she prepared to strike first, Angawende stopped her.
"Wait! Are you mocking my father?"
"No, I'm just saying that he just wasn't the one to stick around for sap."
"Sap? So now you're saying that good memories is equivalent to sap?" "Wrong again!" "No, you're wrong again! No wonder he dislikes you hanging around him!" "Don't talk to me like that, little missy!" "Why not?" "I'm your mother!" "You never acted like it! You were never there for me!" "Your father wasn't there either!" "So now you're going to blame everything on him?" "No!" "Then why are you doing it now?" "I love your father better than anyone could imagine!" "Hah! Tis folly! I've known him closer than you! I'm his daughter! I love him more!" "Silence! I love him in a way you don't!" "And so do I! So he loves me more!" "Don't tell me what he thinks! Besides, I know he loves me more." "Child abuse!" "Get over it." "Daddy loves me more than you!" "Daddy loves Mommy better than his unwanted daughter!" "You're lying!" "You're lying!"
"Well..." sighed Angawende in a hoarse voice, dusting her sleeves off. "There's only one way to prove who is loved more by my father..."
"You are absolutely right," answered Narcisuss in the same tone.
A moment of silence between them passed.
Foom!
"HE'S MINE!" screamed Angawende as she rivaled in a race with her mother.
"KEEP YOUR TONGUE! HE'S MINE!" shot Narcisuss in reply.
They kept shouting at each other like that for the next five minutes, pummeling their way to the Dark Lands to find the object of affection, who at the moment was slowly and tragically dying with a gap in his rib where the arrow had pierced him... oh, and drinking from a can of Dr. Pepper with a laptop in front of him. The portable computer was playing a DVD at the moment.
"If this is what death feels like," Onikunshu concluded placidly to himself, " then I should try dying more often!"
~*~
"I hate you," we said to each other simultaneously. We turned to the arguing and beating crowd that swelled in anger before us, still fighting one another with tooth and nail. Together, my clone and I ran into the energy and began prying everyone off each other no matter what side they stood on. Gradually, the twenty-four Authors stopped struggling altogether and stared at us in mid-motion.
The Mary-Sues were fretting over their garments and accessories, as my original companions were busy nursing wounds given by repeated eye-poking and stabbing of hair clips. It was a horribly tragic sight to see.
"What is this about?" barked the head of the Mary-Sues, the girl in black robes. "Why did you stop our battle?"
"So that you wouldn't kill us," muttered Vana.
"Or we wouldn't kill you," said Europa.
"We were both dying," sighed Jiana.
There was a moment of tired silence that slipped by without notice.
"It's all wrong," I said dully. "We shouldn't be physically hurting each other like this. We're acting like uncivilized human beings!"
"I'm an elf!" exclaimed one of the Mary-Sues. "I don't have any proof, but the moment I saw Legolas, I knew it was true!"
"...Whatever." I put my head in my hands as I sat down on the ground. It was not long before everyone else decided to have a seat. "Well, the point is that there has to be a better way to reach a compromise other than pounding each other's faces."
"We were trying to compromise?" asked Coffeegirl.
"No, we were trying to destroy you all," answered a Mary-Sue.
"Well we can't destroy each other," said my clone. "We can't destroy anyone. Let's just talk about this instead."
"Okay," said Phantom. "We'll talk then! Why did you decide to hate us? What made you... people attack us?"
"You're so mean to us!" cried a Sue. "We try hard, but you people just don't understand us!"
"We try to help you," replied Sammy.
"But you never listen!" said Kitty.
"You flame us all the time!" whined a second Sue. "You're not nice! Even if we ask you not to flame!"
"Who flamed?" asked Penelope.
"You did!"
"It's called creative critique," I said. "It's supposed to help you be a better writer. You just need to look up and face reality."
The Mary-Sues, now that they were cornered to answer our explanations, fell silent and hung their heads. A sigh of exhaustion echoed around the room.
Thud! A crash was heard from overhead, followed by a deep scraping noise.
"The battle!" exclaimed Amarth. "They've started!"
"They should've started quite some time ago," grumbled Hoshiko. "They were ready for combat when we left."
"When we were attacked," said Newmoon.
Then the noises stopped. No one spoke.
"Is it just me," whispered Phantom, "or is it just really quiet?"
"Too quiet," muttered several people, both Sue and non-Sue.
...Silence...
That's when the tunnel started caving in. Rocks crashed into the lair row by row, yet fell in a pattern very similar to dominoes.
"Well," I said in an optimistic tone, "if the ceiling is falling apart on the far left, then something must be happening on the far left."
"And the activity is starting to move towards us," said my clone in the same tone.
Then the rocks stopped caving in. Very odd.
"Now, we're safe."
A smile of comfort appeared lightly on everyone's face. But, of course, the smile died when a giant boulder about thirty times the size of all twenty-four of us came crashing through the ceiling. Then, as if on wheels, the boulder started rolling towards us at an accelerating pace.
"We're going to get flattened if we stand here any longer, aren't we?"
Everyone nodded cheerfully and brightly.
"Hey. Can we run?"
"...That'd be a good idea."
We all stood there and nodded happily again. The boulder kept rolling towards us with no sign of stopping or slowing down. Still, we all stood there and nodded happily again.
"OH FOR GOODNESS' SAKE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"