Chapter Three: Invasion


Raoul stood on a ragged outcropping of rock, his cloak flapping madly in the growing winds.

"Are…we….there…yet?" gasped Meg, whose entire athletic ability consisted of the improvised dance moves required for random musical mayhem.

"Almost," Raoul reassured her. "Do you see that castle?"

As if to illustrate his point, a massive bolt of lighting struck, illuminating the very large, sinister-looking castle on the mountaintop ahead.

"I didn't know Count Dracula wrote Phan fiction," L'Ange de Folie said, wiping the sweat off her brow.

Lexie jumped up and down. "Ooh, maybe it's Count von Krolock!"

Meg blanched. "Eww, blood." She shuddered, then composed herself. "Okay. Everybody ready?"

"Yes," the Admirers chorused.

"Good. Let's go, ladies!"

Getting inside the castle was fairly easy, with little question as to where the inhabitant was. In the highest tower, of course!

The Phan fiction author sat at her computer, typing and cackling to herself.

"Mwa ha ha ha! Raoul's in a dress, Erik and Christine are happily making babies in their underground home, what could be better?" she asked. "Best of all, there are no lousy fop fans to screw it up!" Another bolt of lightning struck.

That was when the music began.


"Huh?"

A group of strangely clad girls stood in the doorway. Upon closer inspection, they seemed to be wearing shiny armor and holding swords, which they held aloft as they began to sing.

"Hear me, Erik and Christine fans, and bashers of Raoul:
 All your dastardly typings are past!

 You don't scare us, we won't throw in the towel
 And respect shall triumph at last!

We are, we, Rabid Admirers,
The fans of Le Vicomte,
When our sweet vicomte calls, off we go!
And the love of our blond boy
Will carry us onward ...We won't abandon him, no ...
Now this is our little show ...
Onward to glory we go! "

"What the—" the Phan Fiction writer exploded. "Get out, Fop-Lovers! See the sign? It says, "Not for Fop Lovers!"

"What is this, Phan segregation?" Estella asked, stepping out of her armor. The others followed suit. (Get it? Suit of armor? Suit…oh, forget it.)

"Didn't we already go through this?" Gypsy asked wearily. "Raoul's not a fop, so technically speaking, your terminology is flawed. We're Rabid Admirers, bearing no connection to so-called 'fop fans'."

"Unless you're talking about Percy Blakeney," Manon put in.

"What do you want?" the Phan Fiction writer demanded, standing up to shield her computer.

"To read something other than E/C would be nice," Meg replied. "Also, to read something that doesn't abuse characters and twist them horribly into morbid contortions of—"

"Whoa. Relax, Meg!" exclaimed Julie. Meg was gesturing fiercely with her sword, and it flew out of her hand and hit the wall with a loud clang.

"Oops."

Estella sighed. "At least it wasn't a ceiling."

"The night is young," Sharon remarked.

"But I like Erik and Christine, they belong together!" The Phan Fiction author cried.

"They why didn't Gaston Leroux put them together?" Gypsy asked practically.

"Um…"

"Writing what you like isn't a bad thing," Katey pointed out. "But you don't have to make Raoul look bad to make Erik look better. It's much more interesting if they're equal rivals. If one is a total loser, where's the suspense?"

"But Raoul's a f—"

"Watch that language!" Kim yelled. "Don't say the 'f' word!"

"What, fop?" The Phan Fiction author asked. "But Raoul is a total jerk! It says so in all this Phan Literature—and the ALW musical…"

Meg sighed, and glanced at the stack of Phan Literature books on the Author's desk. "I hope the original Leroux novel is in there somewhere?"

"Yes…" the Author answered warily.

"Okay, then keep that and use the rest for when you run out of toilet paper." Meg said calmly.

"EW!" Kim groaned. "What is it with you and toilet paper, anyway?"

Meg barreled ahead. "In the ALW musical, it all depends on the actor playing Raoul. If he sucks, and doesn't do much with the role, then you get a lousy Raoul and go home cursing his name. Lexie," she said, turning to her cohort. "Bring out the secret weapon."

Lexie handed Meg a CD, which she passed to the Phan Fiction author.

"All I Ask Of You" performed by Steve Barton and Sarah Brightman," she read.

"How can anyone hate Steve Barton's portrayal of Raoul?" Estella asked. "Of course, Michael Ball sings it beautifully, too."

The Author studied the CD warily. "Will this turn me into a fop fan?"

"About as much as eating a croissant will make you French," Kim replied. "And once again, we are not fop fans. For cripe's sake, read Leroux! Raoul isn't remotely foppish except for the girly skin part! Whatever those other hacks—" she pointed with obvious scorn in the general direction of the stack of Phan Literature, "—have written about him isn't worth jack."

"But Raoul is so selfish, and he keeps Christine and Erik apart!" the Author cried.

"That wouldn't take a whole lot," Meg pointed out. "Since Christine and Erik didn't have the world's most stable relationship. And Raoul couldn't help loving Christine any more than Erik could."

"But Erik needs her love more, because he's all deformed and lonely. I mean, Raoul could get another girl!"

Estella groaned. "Raoul can't help what he looks like any more than Erik can. He could get another girl, but why? He loves Christine!"

"No, he loves her voice!" the Author argued.

"The same could be argued for Erik," Katey pointed out. "But that's not our main concern here. All we want is to read something other than E/C. There are too many of them, and they're all exactly the same."

"Far be it for us to turn you into a Rabid Admirer," Lexie added, "But we would also like to read something different. It's all fine and good to write what you like, but at least be fair to all the characters. You don't have to tear down Raoul just to make Erik look better. That doesn't create a suspenseful love triangle."

"More like a love line, if it's just Erik and Christine," Meg said thoughtfully. Then her face slid into an evil grin. "Love line….hm…"

"What's she doing?" the Author asked nervously.

Rusty shook her head. "Better not to ask, my friend."

"Raoul, hit it!"

Raoul, who had been standing just outside the door of the room, responded to Meg's call. He promptly hit the 'PLAY' button on the boom box.

The other Admirers broke into an eighties-style hip-shimmying dance sequence, dressed in glittery B-52's gear.

"The Love Line is a silly plot that's more worn than my shoe leather!

 Love line, baby! Love line, bring a new plot to bat!

 Writin' and a readin', waitin' and a hopin', praying all for nothing

 'Cause it's all the same thing!

The Love Line continues, the Love Line keeps goin'

Around and around and around and around!

"Fop, fop! We've heard it all before, honey!

 Be more creative, sugar!

 Fop, fop! Now we're aching to the core, honey!

 Fop, fop!

 We need what?"

Sharon and Rusty lifted Manon onto their shoulders, and she cried out:

"A different plot…NOW!"

The Author stared in disbelief. "How do you guys do that? With the costumes and the music and…"

Estella chuckled. "We could tell you…but then we'd have to make you one of us."

"ARRRGGGH! Never mind!"

The Admirers and the Author exchanged glances, and began to laugh. Raoul strode out, still holding the boom box.

"Ack! The F—I mean, the Vicomte," the Author exclaimed.

Raoul grinned wickedly. "Let me teach you my foppish ways….bwa ha ha ha!"

"I told you he was evil!" the Author cried, ducking behind Rusty and Cheryl.

"What are you looking at us for, you chowderhead?" Rusty asked. "We're on his side."

"Oh. Crap."

"Calm down, mademoiselle," Raoul said kindly, once he had halted the evil laughter. "I don't know of any foppish ways to teach you, so you are safe in that regard. I would, however, like to request that you never put me in a dress again. It's highly undignified. Whom Christine chooses to love is her own affair, although I certainly hope that it is me. Still, I don't think it's asking too much to keep me in character, if you feel the need to write about me at all."

"Oh, fine," the Author agreed grudgingly.  "Well…I guess I could write a story about Erik's father…or maybe even the Persian."

"Oooh, daroga romance!" Gypsy cried. "That would be so cool!"

"And you wouldn't have to write Raoul in at all," Meg said. "He's got much less chance of being abused that way."

"I still don't like him," the Author replied.

L'Ange de Folie covered Raoul's ears. "You don't need to hear this, honey."

"You don't have to," Lexie informed her. "Just respect his character, that's all. If you respect Erik, then respect Raoul and Christine as well."

"Well, I guess I can do that," the Author said reluctantly.

"Good enough for us!" the Admirers exclaimed.

"Did we miss the final number?" a deep, entrancing male voice inquired.

 Erik and Christine entered from the doorway. The Author's eyes filled with stars at the sight of her beloved masked man.

"He's here, the Phantom of the Phanfic!" the Admirers sang.

"Raoul!" Christine called, and they flew into each other's arms.

"Um, what the hell?" Kim ventured.

"Interesting story," Erik said dryly. "One of these days, I shall have to change the locks on the door to my underground home. It seems like just about any sod can walk in whenever they feel like it. Of course, when they are beautiful Marie-Suzettes, the problem is twice as bad. It's worse than rats, honestly. How am I supposed to get any brooding done if this continues?"

"But don't you want romance?" the Author asked, finding her voice.

"Of course," Erik replied, bowing his head to acknowledge her. "If you can give me romance without turning me into some mushball in a mask. I do have a reputation as a dangerous man to uphold, you know. If you have anyone in mind…"

"How about a hot gypsy?"

"I like that!" Gypsy squealed.


"NOT YOU!" the Admirers admonished. (Ah, how I love alliteration! No offense, Gypsy, we love you.)

"Very well," Erik said with a smile. "But please, at least portray her realistically."

"What about Christine?"

"And what about her?" Erik asked, watching as Christine and Raoul kissed. "I loved her, and I always will. But there are different kinds of love, my dear. Some can last and some cannot. Use your judgment, if you are able."

The Author hugged him. "I wish you could be happy, Erik."

"That is very kind," Erik replied, looking momentarily touched. "And I thank you, my dear. At the moment, I am quite close to that emotion. The only thing that would complete it is…"

"A closing random musical number!" the Admirers, Christine, Raoul and the Author chorused.

Without warning, music began to blast from the walls of the tower, and the group struck individual poses.

Raoul burst into song.


"It's astounding
 Words are fleeting
 Cliches  takes their tolll…
 But listen closely

Christine joined in.


"Not for very much longer!"

The Admirers and Erik joined in, his booming baritone voice interweaving beautifully with the girls' voices.


"I've got to keep control

 I remember learning acceptance
 Praying for moments when

I could see POTO characters represented fairly…"
 
Everyone burst into a perfectly synchronized dance routine, a la Rocky Horror. (What else?) Even the Author was having a blast, dancing near her elegant Phantom.

 
"And the Phics would be calling…"

"Let's respect Leroux again!
 Let's respect Leroux again!

 It's a Classic book

 Full of Gothic might!

 With all kinds of 'ships!

 There's no need to fight!

 But it's the intolerance that really drives us insane!

 Let's respect Leroux again!

 Let's respect Leroux again!
 
The Author danced around Erik, singing:

"He's so dreamy!

 Oh Phantom, please free me!

 I  adore him, so dark and tall!

 Although I must mention

 We need Raoul for romantic suspension!

 Could it be—he's not so bad after all?

She looked a bit unsure of herself, but shrugged, and smiled as the Admirers applauded her, and burst into their own refrain.

"With a little acceptance of other 'ships

 You're into the 'moral lesson' slip!

 And  we won't be ashamed!

 Of loving one of Leroux's creations

 No, we're NOT under sedation!

 Let's respect Leroux again!

 Let's respect Leroux again!

 
 Well I was watching POTO just havin' a thinik!

 When that blond vicomte gave me such a wink!
 He shook-a me up, he took us by surprise
 He had a ripped-up shirt and gorgeous eyes!
 We stared at him and we felt a change
 Time meant nothing, never would again
 Let's respect Leroux again!

 Let's respect Leroux again!

"Let's respect Leroux again!
 Let's respect Leroux again!

 It's a Classic book

 Full of Gothic might!

 With all kinds of 'ships!

 There's no need to fight!

 But it's the intolerance that really drives us insane!

 Let's respect Leroux again!

 Let's respect Leroux again!

The music stopped, and the Admirers, Author and main cast sank to the floor.


"So, do you think we were too subtle?" Lexie asked innocently.

(A/N: Songs parodied: "I, Don Quixote" from Man of La Mancha, "Love Shack" by the B-52's, and "Time Warp" from Rocky Horror Picture Show. Stay tuned, a bonus chapter is up next! I would like to take this opportunity to say that this story is dedicated to promoting tolerance in the Phandom, which is sadly lacking at the moment. It's a damn shame when people can't express their views without incurring backlash. This chapter in particular is for the ladies at the Society of R.A.O.U.L., who never cease to be a source of inspiration, hope, and lots of laughs to me. Thank you, girls.)