I am putting a little bit of a story line in these next few chapters. Just like I did for the Erik/Gerry chapters. It is all leading up to a big show down sometime in the near future (I never did say what I did with Gerry)(Heh, heh, heh.). I will put reviewers in for a chapter or two because I need people to be in the army. If any of you want to be in it, just put your appearance, personality, and a weapon in your review.
Wow! I have gotten so many reviews since the last chapter! Thank you all!
I went to see Phantom a couple of weeks ago and it was great! Sixth row!
Disclaimer: I take full credit for what me and my mind come up with – things such as characters, bits of exploding scenery, etc. – the rest I give due credit to Andrew Lloyd Webber, Gaston Leroux, and Susan Kay.
Round Three: The Pansy HustleThe animated appliances were approaching at an alarming rate. Snapping out of her silverware-induced state the Authoress hissed from her position by the door,
"Gerry…GERRY!"
The sleeping Phantom just twitched, rolled over, and muttered, "Phantom…evil woman."
In seconds, she was totally surrounded by animated forks, knives, and spoons. One piece of cutlery, a spoon, stepped out of the throng and hopped up on her shoe. The Authoress stared down at it warily.
"H…hello, there."
It quivered in attention at her words, and then, seeming emboldened, it jumped up onto her shoulder. Squeaking in surprise, the Authoress huddled as far back into the wall as she could and shut her eyes. After a few seconds, she could feel it shuffle around, and then something cold and hard brushed against her cheek.
Shivering in apprehension, she cracked open an eye.
The spoon was rubbing itself fervently against her like a contented cat.
Suddenly, she felt something barrel into her legs. Opening her eyes fully, she saw that the rest of the silverware had piled against her. Confused and scared out of her wits, she tried to scramble forward, but was stopped when they surged upward and covered her entire body in silver.
Weighted down, she sunk to the floor and watched helplessly as each piece of cutlery settled into what looked like a giant metal blanket. The spoon on her shoulder stayed up where it was, but curled into a little metal ball and plopped itself down into the curve of her neck.
For hours, the Authoress sat there, alert, waiting for any sign of movement from the mounds of silver, but none came. It appeared as though they had all fallen asleep.
As time passed, the silverware warmed to her body temperature and she started to feel quite cozy. After her traumatic flight from Erik's lair and her run in with Gerry, she was completely drained. Slowly, and without realizing it, her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep.
It was in that position – huddled against the wall and covered in a giant mound of forks, spoons, and knives- that Gerry found her when he awoke.
He stared down at the scene with disbelief.
My army…my comrades…like…HER! He turned away and strode across the room in disgust. I refuse to believe this! Those little traitors! I raised them by hand!
He stopped when he reached the organ on the other side of the room. Seating himself almost unconsciously, he began to play.
Loudly.
The Authoress was startled awake as booming music crashed though the room. Looking about her in alarm, she spotted Gerry hunched over the keyboard of what looked like a small organ.
Oh. It is just him.
Fully awake now, she tried to get up, but realized that she was still covered in cutlery.
Feeling her move, the silverware started to wake up. Slowly, they rolled off of her and clattered to the floor.
Free, she jumped up and cautiously neared the madly playing Phantom.
Sensing her approach, he whirled around just as she reached the small dais that the organ was set upon. She stumbled back in surprise as Gerry flew out of his seat and glided towards her.
"Good evening, mademoiselle." He purred dangerously.
"Er…good evening, Ger…I mean, Phantom." The Authoress backed up as he advanced.
"May I ask, why…" she abruptly ran into a wall.
Seeing that he had the Authoress cornered, Gerry smirked. "Why? Good question…hmm…why you harassed me in the tunnels…"
"Hey! You were drunk…and if I remember correctly, you were the one trying to hold on to me for dear life!"
Gerry narrowed his eyes at her outburst and picked up where he left off. "befriended my kitchen appliances…"
She shuddered and whispered, "they cornered me…Oh God…I could not even move…"
"Wait…" he stopped about a foot away from her, "you did nothing to coerce my precious silverware to like you?"
The Authoress glowered at him, "they did that all on their own …no help from me!" shivered and rocked back and forth slightly. "you ignored me when I called for you to help me get them off…"
Gerry raised an eyebrow at her antics and stepped back. "I cannot believe that you are the woman who defeated me on the rooftop…I refuse to believe it!" He swiveled around, stalked over to the mound of blankets he had slept on, and plopped himself down with a huff.
"But…you are crazy enough!" He looked over to where the Authoress was frozen against the wall, staring at him, "Dear God! I just had to go and drag YOU here, into my…my…sanctuary!" He threw himself back onto the velvets dramatically. "I am NEVER drinking again!"
Registering what he had just said, the Authoress, angered enough to forget the silverware, practically flew over to where he was laying, crashed into the makeshift bed next to him, and growled,
"You…are such…a pansy. IN FACT, you were one of the easiest people to beat that I have ever come across!"
Gerry calmly turned his head so that he was staring at the Authoress and then hissed,
"Take that back."
She crossed her arms and stubbornly replied, "NO! You attacked my Erik! No one messes with my character!"
"Aright."
In a flash, Gerry barreled into the Authoress and they went tumbling off of the pile of blankets and across the floor. Instinctively, she reached around from her position and tried to slap him. He knocked her hand away and tried to pin her down.
"I AM NOT A PANSY!"
She wiggled her arm free and managed to elbow him in the gut. "You evil GERRY! You killed Erik and just tossed him away!"
He grabbed her arm, but her leg came free and she brought it up between his knees. He whimpered, but held his position. "Mademoiselle, I detest you!"
He flipped himself around and sat directly on her stomach. She stopped struggling, winded. "I…" she wheezed out, "detest…you…too…"
For a few seconds both of them sat there, too dazed to do anything. Then, getting a second wind, the Authoress flexed her fingers and dove them into Gerry's back, raking them down his shirt and tearing it to shreds.
He yelped in pain and jumped off of her. Following his movements carefully, she rolled herself over and stiffly pushed herself up.
Slowly, they turned and faced each other, exhausted.
"We are behaving like idiots, are we not?" the Authoress winced and carefully put a hand on her aching back.
Gerry stubbornly crossed his arms and glared at her. "Only one of us is the idiot, my dear. You provoked me, I…"
"I did not!" she shouted indignantly, stiffly lifted her hand off of her back, and crossed her arms to mirror Gerry's stance.
"I awoke this morning to see my faithful silverware…my SHINIES…piled on top of you." He sniffled a little and pouted in her general direction.
"Gerry…"
"Why must you call me that?" He crossed the distance between them and huffed in her face. "I am the Phantom of the Opera!"
The Authoress sighed resignedly at his outburst and muttered, "Yes, yes, I know. Technically, you are a form of Phantom, but…" she poked his chest, "this is not your story."
There was a puzzled silence, and then Gerry glanced down at her, angered and confused, "What are you talking about, mademoiselle?"
"Okay…" she stepped away from him and took a seat on one of the packing crates littered about the room. Waving him over to sit at a crate opposite hers, she took a deep breath and began.
"Gerr…"
"The Phantom of the Opera!"
"Stop it." She glared at him until he snorted and archly turned his nose up at her. "You are insufferable!"
"Likewise, mademoiselle."
She growled at him menacingly, but stayed on the crate. "As I was saying…you are the Phantom of the Opera…"
"Aha!"
"…BUT, not in this story. My character, Erik, is the Phantom is this fanfiction. It is his house on the lake that you were in, his gondolas that he tortured you in, his tunnels that you are living in, basically, his opera house. He is the one that takes the role of Phantom-haunting and whatnot. He knows the characters and the world he lives in…which is very different from your own."
Gerry started to get up in protest, but the Authoress continued, "In your story, you are in the position of Erik in this story. You are the main controller of your 'Phantom' environment." She scooted her self off of the crate and approached Gerry, who was now frozen in confusion.
"You belong in that world. The characters recognize you, you do Phantomy deeds, create your music…basically it is where you fit."
"No…"
"Have you noticed yet that the Christine Daae from your world and this one are not the same? What about your lair? And the cellars?"
Suddenly it hit him and he sagged in defeat.
She put a hand on his shoulder. "Even the opera house is entirely different. Gerry…"
"Why…" he weakly murmured,
"Why do I call you that?" He nodded. "It is to distinguish you from the other Phantom. I call you Gerry, and I call Erik Erik. Those names are basically representations of what kind of Phantom you are." She snorted and looked at the pitiful state that Gerry was in. "Which I am not going to go into right now."
He nodded again and slumped even further down, so that he was almost ready to fall off the crate.
Feeling a twinge of worry for the forlorn character, she wrapped an arm around his torso and helped him to slowly stand up.
"I think that you should lay down for a little while."
"Okay."
He obligingly followed the Authoress over to his bed, where she dumped him on the covers and tossed a few throws over him.
Gerry stared dazedly up at her for a moment.
"What is your name?"
The Authoress, who was eyeing a spot across the room where she thought she had seen something sliver flash by, turned her attention back to the inert Phantom. "What?"
"You are the Authoress, I heard the announcer say that in the bonus chapter, but I do not know your name."
"Oh," She quirked an eyebrow in amusement. As he had talked, Gerry had snuggled down in the covers so all she saw was a tuft of hair sticking out of the velvets. "I have a few names…Crimson Hint, Crim, Ms. Hint, …basically all the same thing."
The pile of blankets shivered as Gerry burrowed deeper down.
"G'night Crim." Came his muffled answer.
The Authoress laughed and headed over to a comfortable-looking chair she had spotted earlier.
"Good night, Gerry."
WINNER: Am I sniffing out an alliance…or even…dare I say…a friendship?
LOSER: Where did all of the silverware go!
THE CAMEO CHAPTER WILL BE UP SOON!
I THINK THAT GERRY WAS ONLY UP FOR AROUND A HALF AN HOUR!HE SURE CAN SLEEP!
