Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. It belongs to
J. R. R. Tolkien. All Author's and OCs used with permission.
Author's Note:
all right! The next chapter is the last chapter! It might be either shorter than usual, or longer than usual. Then again, it could be just as long as it normally is. Thanks everyone for sticking through! I obviously couldn't have done anything without all of you. ^_^
Rock on!
~Naheka
The File Cabinet
I yawned a "good morning" as I slumped down into the cushy, brown armchair, carefully setting my hot chocolate down on the glass table sitting in the middle of the circle of equally cushy pieces of furniture. The ceiling, I noticed as I looked up, was a glass dome, framed with steel wires and bars. A series of straight, gray-blue brush strokes, the sky, was stirring lazily in the atmosphere, the signal of a storm coming from the yonder point.
"Brought some tea down," said Sammy. "I snagged random packets from the Cafeteria out of curiosity. Turns out I got," she fanned out the packets of beverage powders, dropping each packet down on the table one at a time, "green tea, raspberry, lavender," she held up a bright orange packet, "one called 'mystery packet'... and... coffee?"
"MINE!"
Nearly all twelve Authors jumped on top of the table to claim the sacred caffeine elixir. I was struggling in the back of the crowd, but Vana had managed to stick her hand in first, extracting the coffee package and raising it high in the air. Kitty jumped up and prepared to claim it, until Phantom smashed into her and Amarth swooped in for the kill (or goal; whatever). Soon, we were all crowding and bickering over the one coffee bag of power, until Miss Fiddlespork, who was apparently taking a walk with her crutches (which she had fondly entitled "Mr. Wiggles") around the North Plaza barked at us and told us to "Shut your clammy little flaps! You shouldn't be beating the living daylights out of each other! You should be in your offices writing decent fanfiction!"
Then she started hobbling off, muttering to herself about how, "There used to be great fanfiction in the good ol' days... Until that whatisface -- Morondo Croon, was it?-- came along and got them fangirlies to start writing all o' that junk and kuffuffin... Come on, Mr. Wiggles, we can get away from these nasty little young Authors, eh?" By the time we had heard her asking where her dentures were, she had finally staggered out of the room and down another corridor. "Prune juice!"
"...Meep..."
"All right!" sighed Phantom, falling back into her chair again. "Erm, back to our original business." She leaned back into her seat. "So, we're trying to figure out..."
"What happened last week?" finished Jiana, scratching her head.
"I think we lost our minds temporarily," said Penelope.
"My mind ran away from me a long time ago," I said in a matter-of-factly tone, taking a sip of hot chocolate with my head held high in the air. I felt the raised eyebrows aimed at me. "Well for good sakes, it's very true!"
"Hey!" said Hoshiko. "I heard you pulled in quite a load of Reviews the other day with that journal account."
"Apparently," I replied, "I have. I didn't really think that people would actually bother to read stuff like that."
"Looking back on it," sighed Europa, "it really was quite an interesting tale.
Amarth also sighed, and slowly took a gaze around the entire room. "I suppose this is where a lot of it started, eh, Naheka?"
I raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know I was here the other day?" I looked down into my hot chocolate. "But I suppose this really is where everything--"
"Attention all Authors of 382," echoed a voice in the intercom. "Attention all Authors of 382. We have an OC disturbing the peace --again-- in the fourth lobby left to the Cafeteria. A female, dark hair and green eyes, is tampering with the elevator buttons. Will the Author please restrain the OC before she--"
I buried my head in my arms as I slumped to a side of the chair. "I'll deal with it later." My head tilted. "Next thing I know, we'll have telephones falling out of the sky and the whole blasted thing will start all over again."
"The only thing that really confuses me," said Newmoon, "is... well, what happened at the end?"
"Joe," said Vana.
"Yeah. What's up with Joe?"
"I've poked at him several times," I answered. "He said something about his special sword, but I've always stayed away from it out of respect."
"We should try to persuade him," muttered Coffeegirl. "But how do you persuade a Nazgul?"
"There's always the certain option," said Phantom, "of crowding him then suddenly bursting into song."
"I'm for that idea!" I exclaimed.
"Mm... hold that thought," grumbled Kitty. "After all, we might want to leave that to the OCs."
"So if we unravel whatever's happening with Joe's sword," concluded Amarth, "we'll probably work out the rest of the ending."
Everyone nodded. And then there were scrapings and tappings at the door. "Aha!" "Ssh! They'll hear us!" "Shut up! We don't want to get caught."
Sammy was closest to the door, so she gave it a tug, letting loose a pile of twelve Authors that had pressed themselves upon the door, near the lock.
"Have you been eavesdropping?" scolded Hoshiko.
"We haven't been dropping any eaves, ma'am," whimpered an Author from the bottom of the pile. "We were just... just..."
"Not finding a way to bring your Mary-Sues back to power, eh?" I asked suspiciously. Some of them nodded, others shook their heads. "My, my..."
"Well," said another Sue, "we were trying---"
"Try not," interrupted Phantom in a very wise tone. "Do or do not. There is no try."
"You people are obsessed with quotes, aren't you?" snorted another Sue. "I bet you people challenge each other with quotes--"
"War does not make one great!"
There was silence.
"Well, it doesn't!"
"Too bad there's so many of them out there," sighed Kitty.
Again, a short round of tranquility came, save the sound of the Mary-Sue Authors trying to untangle themselves from their crumpled pile. Well, now they knew how we felt all the times that every one of us has gotten tangled in a lump or chased by stuff or punted like a football or fictionally abused or... any of that other stuff that happened. But the silence was officially broken as a wild scream indicated that a Mary-Sue Author had attacked.
Apparently, there was at least one Mary-Sue that didn't want to give up so easily. I found myself tugging at the heels of one that was about to bite Penelope's head off. She was cursing and shrieking incoherently about a bunch of evil things concerning last week. I didn't take too much of it into account. Luckily, Ember and Wisdom came skidding through the door, nearly crashing into the wall in the process.
There was a sound of an incantation, followed by a quick flash of light. For a while, the Author remained still and stopped trying to rip Penelope's lungs out.
Bam!
Too bad it didn't last long. But Ember had her up by the collar in moments.
"Authors are not meant to be threatened," he said sternly, "especially by Mary-Sues like you people."
The door banged open again as a figure clad in black kicked in. It would have been a really mysterious entrance if I hadn't seen the same entrance six thousand times already. Naurglahad pushed Wisdom aside and grabbed the Mary-Sue Author. "'Scuse me, elf," she said in a rough tone, like the kind a western sheriff would use to calm a frightened bar tender, "but I'm the only OC here that's permitted to whip arses."
Ember's eyes narrowed. "Only you?"
"Yesh," said Naurglahad. I let my head droop into my shoulders as she angled her torso and crossed her arms, "Meee!"
"Knock it off, Naurglahad," I grumbled in a muffled voice.
"I'm sorry," she replied in the same arrogant tone, pinning the Sue up against the wall with a muscular arm, "but I'm busy beating the living crud out of people. Please leave a message," she pulled her fist back, "after the scream."
"I've got a job for you! I'll pay you!"
At this, Naurglahad's ears perked and paused just before her fist met the Author's face. She dropped her, and the Author slid down the wall into a slump in the corner. "What offer do you have, child?"
"I'll give you five Reviews," I said, "if you can get Joe to fess up about his sword." Naurglahad obviously looked very interested. "You can do whatever you want to him to get it out."
"Except hurt him," added Vana.
"Yes, expect hurting him."
With a wildly malicious grin, Naurglahad shifted her weight and strolled out of the room. "Deal." She cocked her head at Ember and Wisdom. "Come on. We've got work to do."
"We?" asked Ember stiffly. "I believe she asked just you to do the job."
"Yes, and you people are coming with me."
Without much courtesy, she flung her arms about both of their necks and dragged them out of the room and slammed the door.
"...I'll bet three Reviews that she'll round up a singing, dancing troop of OCs."
NOTE: Ai, I don't meant to bash Mr. Bloom call calling him "Morondo Croon". Just a funny name that Miss Fiddlespork contributed. :)
Author's Note:
all right! The next chapter is the last chapter! It might be either shorter than usual, or longer than usual. Then again, it could be just as long as it normally is. Thanks everyone for sticking through! I obviously couldn't have done anything without all of you. ^_^
Rock on!
~Naheka
The File Cabinet
I yawned a "good morning" as I slumped down into the cushy, brown armchair, carefully setting my hot chocolate down on the glass table sitting in the middle of the circle of equally cushy pieces of furniture. The ceiling, I noticed as I looked up, was a glass dome, framed with steel wires and bars. A series of straight, gray-blue brush strokes, the sky, was stirring lazily in the atmosphere, the signal of a storm coming from the yonder point.
"Brought some tea down," said Sammy. "I snagged random packets from the Cafeteria out of curiosity. Turns out I got," she fanned out the packets of beverage powders, dropping each packet down on the table one at a time, "green tea, raspberry, lavender," she held up a bright orange packet, "one called 'mystery packet'... and... coffee?"
"MINE!"
Nearly all twelve Authors jumped on top of the table to claim the sacred caffeine elixir. I was struggling in the back of the crowd, but Vana had managed to stick her hand in first, extracting the coffee package and raising it high in the air. Kitty jumped up and prepared to claim it, until Phantom smashed into her and Amarth swooped in for the kill (or goal; whatever). Soon, we were all crowding and bickering over the one coffee bag of power, until Miss Fiddlespork, who was apparently taking a walk with her crutches (which she had fondly entitled "Mr. Wiggles") around the North Plaza barked at us and told us to "Shut your clammy little flaps! You shouldn't be beating the living daylights out of each other! You should be in your offices writing decent fanfiction!"
Then she started hobbling off, muttering to herself about how, "There used to be great fanfiction in the good ol' days... Until that whatisface -- Morondo Croon, was it?-- came along and got them fangirlies to start writing all o' that junk and kuffuffin... Come on, Mr. Wiggles, we can get away from these nasty little young Authors, eh?" By the time we had heard her asking where her dentures were, she had finally staggered out of the room and down another corridor. "Prune juice!"
"...Meep..."
"All right!" sighed Phantom, falling back into her chair again. "Erm, back to our original business." She leaned back into her seat. "So, we're trying to figure out..."
"What happened last week?" finished Jiana, scratching her head.
"I think we lost our minds temporarily," said Penelope.
"My mind ran away from me a long time ago," I said in a matter-of-factly tone, taking a sip of hot chocolate with my head held high in the air. I felt the raised eyebrows aimed at me. "Well for good sakes, it's very true!"
"Hey!" said Hoshiko. "I heard you pulled in quite a load of Reviews the other day with that journal account."
"Apparently," I replied, "I have. I didn't really think that people would actually bother to read stuff like that."
"Looking back on it," sighed Europa, "it really was quite an interesting tale.
Amarth also sighed, and slowly took a gaze around the entire room. "I suppose this is where a lot of it started, eh, Naheka?"
I raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know I was here the other day?" I looked down into my hot chocolate. "But I suppose this really is where everything--"
"Attention all Authors of 382," echoed a voice in the intercom. "Attention all Authors of 382. We have an OC disturbing the peace --again-- in the fourth lobby left to the Cafeteria. A female, dark hair and green eyes, is tampering with the elevator buttons. Will the Author please restrain the OC before she--"
I buried my head in my arms as I slumped to a side of the chair. "I'll deal with it later." My head tilted. "Next thing I know, we'll have telephones falling out of the sky and the whole blasted thing will start all over again."
"The only thing that really confuses me," said Newmoon, "is... well, what happened at the end?"
"Joe," said Vana.
"Yeah. What's up with Joe?"
"I've poked at him several times," I answered. "He said something about his special sword, but I've always stayed away from it out of respect."
"We should try to persuade him," muttered Coffeegirl. "But how do you persuade a Nazgul?"
"There's always the certain option," said Phantom, "of crowding him then suddenly bursting into song."
"I'm for that idea!" I exclaimed.
"Mm... hold that thought," grumbled Kitty. "After all, we might want to leave that to the OCs."
"So if we unravel whatever's happening with Joe's sword," concluded Amarth, "we'll probably work out the rest of the ending."
Everyone nodded. And then there were scrapings and tappings at the door. "Aha!" "Ssh! They'll hear us!" "Shut up! We don't want to get caught."
Sammy was closest to the door, so she gave it a tug, letting loose a pile of twelve Authors that had pressed themselves upon the door, near the lock.
"Have you been eavesdropping?" scolded Hoshiko.
"We haven't been dropping any eaves, ma'am," whimpered an Author from the bottom of the pile. "We were just... just..."
"Not finding a way to bring your Mary-Sues back to power, eh?" I asked suspiciously. Some of them nodded, others shook their heads. "My, my..."
"Well," said another Sue, "we were trying---"
"Try not," interrupted Phantom in a very wise tone. "Do or do not. There is no try."
"You people are obsessed with quotes, aren't you?" snorted another Sue. "I bet you people challenge each other with quotes--"
"War does not make one great!"
There was silence.
"Well, it doesn't!"
"Too bad there's so many of them out there," sighed Kitty.
Again, a short round of tranquility came, save the sound of the Mary-Sue Authors trying to untangle themselves from their crumpled pile. Well, now they knew how we felt all the times that every one of us has gotten tangled in a lump or chased by stuff or punted like a football or fictionally abused or... any of that other stuff that happened. But the silence was officially broken as a wild scream indicated that a Mary-Sue Author had attacked.
Apparently, there was at least one Mary-Sue that didn't want to give up so easily. I found myself tugging at the heels of one that was about to bite Penelope's head off. She was cursing and shrieking incoherently about a bunch of evil things concerning last week. I didn't take too much of it into account. Luckily, Ember and Wisdom came skidding through the door, nearly crashing into the wall in the process.
There was a sound of an incantation, followed by a quick flash of light. For a while, the Author remained still and stopped trying to rip Penelope's lungs out.
Bam!
Too bad it didn't last long. But Ember had her up by the collar in moments.
"Authors are not meant to be threatened," he said sternly, "especially by Mary-Sues like you people."
The door banged open again as a figure clad in black kicked in. It would have been a really mysterious entrance if I hadn't seen the same entrance six thousand times already. Naurglahad pushed Wisdom aside and grabbed the Mary-Sue Author. "'Scuse me, elf," she said in a rough tone, like the kind a western sheriff would use to calm a frightened bar tender, "but I'm the only OC here that's permitted to whip arses."
Ember's eyes narrowed. "Only you?"
"Yesh," said Naurglahad. I let my head droop into my shoulders as she angled her torso and crossed her arms, "Meee!"
"Knock it off, Naurglahad," I grumbled in a muffled voice.
"I'm sorry," she replied in the same arrogant tone, pinning the Sue up against the wall with a muscular arm, "but I'm busy beating the living crud out of people. Please leave a message," she pulled her fist back, "after the scream."
"I've got a job for you! I'll pay you!"
At this, Naurglahad's ears perked and paused just before her fist met the Author's face. She dropped her, and the Author slid down the wall into a slump in the corner. "What offer do you have, child?"
"I'll give you five Reviews," I said, "if you can get Joe to fess up about his sword." Naurglahad obviously looked very interested. "You can do whatever you want to him to get it out."
"Except hurt him," added Vana.
"Yes, expect hurting him."
With a wildly malicious grin, Naurglahad shifted her weight and strolled out of the room. "Deal." She cocked her head at Ember and Wisdom. "Come on. We've got work to do."
"We?" asked Ember stiffly. "I believe she asked just you to do the job."
"Yes, and you people are coming with me."
Without much courtesy, she flung her arms about both of their necks and dragged them out of the room and slammed the door.
"...I'll bet three Reviews that she'll round up a singing, dancing troop of OCs."
NOTE: Ai, I don't meant to bash Mr. Bloom call calling him "Morondo Croon". Just a funny name that Miss Fiddlespork contributed. :)