Note: This fanfic will contain (joking?) French-bashing and gratuitous swearing. If you are offended by either of these things, then I seriously pity you.
Everything mentioned in here is inspired by really bad George/Mary Sues that we are all exposed to everyday. If you accuse me of OOCness and portraying George horribly... well, nice to meet you, Captain Obvious.
The Rose White Knight of a Fragile Amethyst Rose of Hope and Sorrow
By the Beautiful Queen Sorceress Priestess of Sparkles and Fairy Dust, Josephina-cha
Whoopsie! I mean,
By SporkGoddess.
THIS IS NOT A MARY SUE DAMNIT. SHE IS JUST LIKE ME IN EVERY WAY SHAPE AND FORM
I feel old, y'know? Like, I certainly don't look it, what with my shimmery amethyst hair and skin as fair as a snow white omi or whatever the heck they call the sashes on those Japanese robes, but I feel old. At the tender age of 23 I have been through so much, and all I want to do is sit at home with a good soap opera and mint chocolate chip cookie dough. Does that stuff even exist? If not, it should.
But, really, having my ex-husband notify me and say that some prissy French nancyboy needs a mechanic is so insulting. Especially considering that I'm the one who does the friggin' fighting, not some French pansy! Do the French even know how to fight? I MEAN COME ON! It's Neo-FRANCE! I could be at home putting together a kittens puzzle or… watching a rerun of MASH: The Next Generation. I dunno. But anything would be better than catering to the whims of some Parisian wuss!
But, anyway, these thoughts were going through my mind as I stared at my plane ticket. It was a good thing that the Gundam Fight was still two years away; I'm a fighter for Neo-Uzbekistan. The people of the once-proud nation would be really pissed if I skipped out on them, which I was beginning to think I had, not of my own will of course. Which leads to another question, why the hell does he need a mechanic in the off season? And what becomes of my own Gundam? Sheesh, talk about selfish!
So, yeah, there I was on the plane as we already established… thinking this while trying to read a trashy romance novel that I'd bought at the airport from a cultist in exchange for my soul. It really sucked, too, there must be an another level in Hell for people who read this crap. And I guess that I was doomed to rot there. Ah well, at least I'm hot.
Blah, now where was I? Yeah, on the plane, thinking these thoughts and reading about Francine di Courrier being swept into the muscular and steamy embrace of the man who was trying to kill her--fucking brilliant logic right there—when the flight attendant poked me. I punched her, and things got a little hazy after that; all I can remember is that the next morning my ex-husband arrived to pay my bail from the airport security center or whatever the hell you call it… I refuse to give it the dignified name of a prison; it was mostly some butch guy named Buster leering at me. Men. They all want me. But I guess, who can blame them?
My ex-husband, named Raymond Bishop, wasn't too happy with me.
"You may be more beautiful than a sea of moons and stars, Josephina-chan, but you have the spirit of a haunted arena of flying hay bales."
He always was poetic.
"So Ray-san, how's it going?" I asked cheerfully once we were in his car. Well, not his car, it was actually a limo that had been sanctioned for our use. Pretty sweet dealio.
"Fine, fine."
I shook my head. Raymond was old enough to be my grandfather, but I had been betrothed to him at one point and even married to him, until I realized that all of my life would be shackled to a wrinkled old man who was a butler. A butler! You'd think my parents could have at least arranged my marriage to a prince or a knight or a manager at Burger King. It really showed how much they thought of me. A butler! Can you believe that?
"What are you thinking about, Josephina-san?" He asked.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" I wasn't too fond of Raymond, and whenever I don't like someone I do not hide that fact. Which is probably why that hadn't been my first time in an airport "jail."
"You're still mad at me." He said. "But I'm doing you a favor. No one even knows where Neo-Uzbekistan is!"
"Plenty of people do! They used to be a glorious nation before…"
"Where is Neo-Uzbekistan?"
I froze. "Um, the question should be where isn't it?"
"Josephina-chan… stop evading the question."
I shrugged. "I was just trying to throw you off, y'know? Well, it's… um… in Euro… Asia… Eurasia… somewhere… by… the… ocean?"
"Which ocean?"
"Oh, they're all so beautiful does it really matter?"
He smirked. "I knew it."
"Okay, so I don't know where the one on earth is! I know where the colony is!"
"Yes, it is in space, but which country is it near?"
"I'm going to stop speaking to you now."
"Glad to hear it." How the hell had this man become a butler? Aren't butlers supposed to be polite and congenial?
The car eventually stopped and Raymond looked over at me.
"We're here."
I put a hand to my ear. "What? Did someone just say something?"
He rolled his eyes. "Fine, if you want to act like a little girl then go for it. I'll just tell Master George-sama that his new mechanic is busy playing the silence game in the back of the limo by herself."
I slouched. "See if I care what some girl thinks of me."
"Master George-sama is male."
"If you say so."
He sighed and opened the door. "Well, at some point the Princess will wish to use the limo, but until then you're welcome to sulk in there." He got out and walked away.
"Oh fine, I'm coming." I sighed as I got out of the car. "Hey, wait up!"
I followed Raymond out of the limo and through these pearly gates. Wait, isn't that often used to describe heaven? Bad choice then, because this place to me was hell. You ought to have seen it! Green grass, trees, flowers… So picturesque I could just imagine painters tripping over each other to capture it on canvas. What's wrong with that, you may ask ? Well… EVERYTHING. I could tell it would crush my independent spirit like Frollo had crushed those ants in that Disney movie The Hunchback of Notre Dame… oops, I'm breaking the fourth wall, aren't I? Well, no matter, it won't be the last time!
Anyway, Ray-Ray's standing there talking to some chick with orange hair. Then it occurs to me that that chick has a pretty deep voice… oh God, I'd hoped what I'd heard about Frenchmen in movies and books and anti-Neo France propaganda were all just horrible lies, but NO! They actually do have long hair and eyes that are so pretty plastic surgeons all over the galaxy probably have them on file! Well, this one did anyway.
So the androgynous man turns to me and says "Bonjour gozaimasu, Mademoiselle-san!"
"Hello," I said politely.
He gasped. "Such impoliteness! You forgot to say "Sir!" She won't get along here in Neo France, Monsieur Raymond-sensei."
"Please, Master George-sama-kun, just give her dix chances." Actually, he meant one chance, but the author of this can't spell the word for that in French and is far too lazy to look it up. Un, maybe? Oh well.
"It's fine, if he doesn't want me here it's his own problem," I said, turning to leave. But "Pat" stopped me, laying a too-dainty-for-my-comfort hand upon my shoulder.
"Non, mademoiselle! If you leave, you will not have a chance to enrage me with your idea of modern women independence and sexually suggestive dancing to horrible pop music, nor will we ever fall in love against all odds!"
"Damn shame that would be."
He gasped. "Watch your French! Er… wait…"
While Mr./Miss Frog eater thought about the conundrum of this popular phrase, I wondered if escape was possible. Then I say 'Mond glaring at me and knew that it would not be.
Goddamnit.
Author's Note: OMG ISN'T THIS THE BESTEST STORY EVER? IT IS SO ROMANTIC! GEORGEY-KUN-SAMA IS SO KAWAII =.= AISHITERU GEORGE-SENSEI AISHITERU
Wai wai wai! Please review even though this story REALLY REALLY SUCKS!
Or else I will sic chibi neko George on you! rowr! ;;
FrooFroo the Muse: URUSEI JOSEPHINA CHAN
Me: OH SHUT UP FROOFROO
FrooFroo: You shut up, nan desu ka!
Me: Omae o korosu
FrooFroo: omg heero-san
STAY TUNED FOR MORE LOLOLOLOLOL
(Real Author's Note time)
I began to write this when George/Mary Sue fanfics were at their prime. They've died down now, really, but a few people urged me to post this so here it is. Dunno when I'll continue. I kind of have to be in a certain mood to write it.
Sorry if it's cruel. But hey, you should all know that's how I am by now.
Oh, and my name isn't really Josephina.