Department of Technical Errors Prologue!
I've finally gotten the prologue to my PPC story finished. When it's proofread, I'll post it on fanfiction.net. Feedback appreciated!
“Piratates” of the Caribbean: When Stories Run Amok
Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of its characters. Agents Isaiah and Mara belong to me; Agents Rosie Cotton Bomull and Ryan Silverleaf belong to their respective writers; Crystallina is also mine, placed in this fic to demonstrate common negative Mary Sue traits. The idea of the PPC belongs to Jay and Acacia, and is used with permission.
Many thanks to my beta, Writer from Rivendell, for proofreading.
A/N: The title is taken from the text of an actual Mary Sue, who loudly proclaimed to one and all that she was a piratate. If I were her, I’d have kept that bit of information to myself.
Elizabeth Swann looked over her shoulder once as she ran along the deserted side street, skirting the darkest shadows as she rushed headlong away from the light and graceful footsteps behind her. She barely caught a glimpse of the flashy garments that clothed her pursuer. She found herself out of breath, but kept going in the direction of the fort, hoping that her true love, Norrington, would be there to save her.
Wait a minute! That wasn’t right. Was it? Her true love was...Elizabeth shook her head in bewilderment. She could hardly tell up from down ever since that pirate wench had arrived, but her true love was Will. She was almost certain it was Will.
Elizabeth was being chased by a very unusual rogue. Crystallina Sparrow, she was called, evidently Jack’s long-lost daughter who, though surviving orphanage, an oppressive engagement, and two mutinies, had still managed to make herself the best pirate in the Caribbean, even more accomplished than her father. She had sailed in on the Black Pearl with Jack not two days ago, only to gawk, flirt and brush up against Will Turner when they had all met at the blacksmith’s shop. Crystallina Sparrow was prettier than Elizabeth, and more modest about it. Also, she was brave and extremely clever. Will had noticed all of this, and was reacting to his newfound enlightenment with curious phrases, such as, “Damn, Miss Sparrow, you’re sexy!” and “Crystallina is so cool, isn’t she, Jack?”
It was by then, of course, clear that Elizabeth was shallow and not deserving of Will. Nevertheless, the governor’s daughter refused to relinquish him to the nobler, kinder Crystallina, a selfish act if ever there was one. Still, Elizabeth had her pride, and when Crystallina had suggested that they step outside the smithy for a minute and have a little talk about the matter, Elizabeth had yelled at her to get out of town and leave Will alone. This was entirely rude and worthy of retribution-after all, Crystallina had repeatedly tried to be nice to “Elizabitch”, as the pirate maiden affectionately called the governor’s daughter. The next thing Elizabeth knew, she had surprised herself by slapping Crystallina, then losing her nerve and fleeing. Crystallina had pursued.
Elizabeth rounded a bend, but tripped on a conveniently placed rock. Peculiar how she had missed it before. Elizabeth struggled to her feet, ungainly in her many skirts. She looked back and saw the wench running towards her.
Crystallina’s appearance was unmistakable. The brightly colored blouse that adorned the pirate maiden was described by the Crystallina as “buttercup yellow,” and evidently it was supposed to look beautiful on her. Will had seemed to agree, but Elizabeth somehow lacked the fashion sense to appreciate the shirt, subtly complemented as it was by the clinging, hot pink breeches that adorned Crystallina’s thin legs.
Crystallina’s face was as pale as the moon, her hair as golden as the sun, and her eyes like two bright stars as they glittered predatorily at the governor’s daughter.
“Do not come between me and my true love!” she proclaimed fiercely, closing in. Elizabeth found herself hyperventilating. “I know that is why you slapped me. But I, unlike you, am above that.” She dangled a pendant before the governor’s daughter. “Behold, my magical necklace! It gives me powers, the likes of which you can only dream of! With it, you shall cower before me in shame!”
The pendant began to glow. As it did, the governor’s daughter found herself growing weaker. It was as if her spine had been turned into pulp.
Elizabeth became paralyzed with fear.
What in the world? she thought. I’ve been through a battle and seen ghost pirates! Surely I’m not afraid of this little hussy!
Unfortunately, the fear continued, pinning her to the wall, almost as if it were an extension of the extremely beautiful young lady. Elizabeth fought against it, but it was too great. Confused, she looked around for some means of combating her nemesis.
“Will is mine!” hissed Crystallina.
Heavy footsteps sounded near them. Will’s voice called out, “My love!”
“Will, I’m here!” Elizabeth gasped.
“Elizabeth?” Will came into view. He looked a little disgusted. “I wasn’t talking about you. I was speaking of the lovely Crystallina.”
Elizabeth’s mouth opened in absolute shock.
“But-but-”
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth,” he said. “I just don’t love you anymore. You were really more of an infatuation, nothing like true love.” He made a puppy dog face at the pirate lass. “Please, let’s go somewhere where we can be alone,” he begged Crystallina.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. She took a deep, ragged breath. She had just witnessed Will, the love of her life, look at her would-be attacker with adoration and deny his feelings for her. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be.
Always possessed of an inner strength, she resisted the feeling of slow suffocation that had accompanied his confession.
“Why, Will?” she asked, staring at him intently, leaning forward as far as the feeling of terror would let her. “You told me you loved me from the moment you met me! God, William, please tell me what’s wrong!”
His deep brown eyes locked with hers, and for a moment, she saw in them more than a little confusion. Then-
“You scum. You pile of slag.”
Elizabeth turned in the direction of the voice. She wondered if yet another person had come to hate her.
Elizabeth’s gaze found a young man of about her age dressed in slightly tattered, faded blue pants and a black shirt with short sleeves. She raised her eyebrows in surprise. To add to his odd attire, on each of his sleeves was emblazoned the image of a potted cactus.
To her relief, he was looking in the direction of Crystallina. Elizabeth gasped as he pulled out a grapnel hook and glared menacingly at the pirate wench.
His head swiveled in Elizabeth’s direction, and he seemed to recognize her instantly. He gave her a wide smile and a reassuring wink.
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” he continued in a strange accent. “She’ll be gone in a jiffy. I don’t suppose you could keep Mr. Turner occupied for a moment, could you?”
The female pirate was looking at him with pronounced distaste. “Who the hell are you, jerk?” she asked.
The young man pulled out a scroll and a curious looking quill pen. Without dipping it into ink, he began to write on the parchment. “Lapsing into modern slang. Insulting a PPC agent-”
“Hey! I asked what you were doing, dipwad. And what’s up with that old yellow paper?”
“Parchment, I think you mean. This, dear lady, is your charge list. It’s quite lengthy. You’ve caused a lot of trouble for the original characters, particularly Elizabeth.”
The governor’s daughter didn’t understand what was happening-perhaps because her brainpower had significantly diminished since Crystallina’s arrival-but the man seemed to be on her side, and he also appeared to be the only one who really knew what was happening to her world.
“How should I keep Will occupied?” Elizabeth wanted to know. “And why?”
“I need to nab Mary Sue here. Just keep asking him logical questions. That should keep him off balance. Normally, I’d just tell you to kiss him, but it seems someone-” his gaze again went reprovingly to Crystallina “-has been messing with his behavior.”
Slightly nonplussed, Elizabeth looked back at Will, whose expression was beginning to darken in the direction of the young man.
“Stay away from Crystallina,” the blacksmith warned.
Elizabeth tested her first logical query. “Why do you care about Crystallina so much?” she inquired. “You just met her.”
Will blinked and turned back to Elizabeth. “Because she’s my one true love.”
“What about her makes you love her?”
“Well...she’s beautiful...”
“I didn’t ask if you were attracted to her looks,” the governor’s daughter responded tartly. “I meant, what makes you love her as a person?”
Will responded promptly, “She’s independent and can best any man at sword fighting...”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in shock. “What?” Behind Will, the man had put his scroll of parchment away and was raising his grapnel hook in anticipation. The quill pen was tucked behind his ear. He nodded at Elizabeth in encouragement and made a gesture as if to say, “Keep going.”
Will nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes. She beat me in a duel, and I fell in love with her. She’s the best of the best.”
This was a rather stupider Will Turner than Elizabeth had been accustomed to dealing with, but she pressed on.
“Where did she learn to fight?”
The blacksmith’s brow furrowed.
“Oh...she taught herself.”
“She taught herself to be the best fighter you’ve ever seen?”
“Well...”
There was a slight sound of stretching in the air around her.
Elizabeth didn’t wait for him to puzzle it out. “Why does she have silvery eyes?”
“She was...born with them?”
“No one’s born with silver eyes, Will.”
Elizabeth felt herself slowly regaining her wit.
There was a small tremor beneath her feet. The stretching sound continued. “And why does she dress like that? Those clothes are not only ugly, but impractical. Why, that yellow shirt is as good as a bull’s eye!”
“Er...”
There was a muffled yelp from behind Will. He whirled around to find Crystallina gone. The blacksmith drew his sword.
“Where is she? That man must have taken her!” He looked around. Suddenly, he clutched his head. “Unh. What’s happening?”
The PPC agent, Isaiah, had grabbed the pirate wench, bound and gagged her, and dragged her towards the fort. The gallows were considerately set up, noose ready. Evidently there was to be a hanging the next morning. So much the better.
The youth would have been immediately beset by soldiers, but the author of the story hadn’t paid any attention to the area around the fort, so the scene appeared as Isaiah required it to be.
Crystallina found her neck encircled by a noose. She struggled with all her might as the man before her unrolled the scroll again and took a pair of reading glasses from his shirt pocket. Unfortunately, she had made herself so skinny-more slender than the governor’s daughter, to be precise-that she could barely move.
“Crystallina Sparrow,” began Isaiah, “be it known that you have been charged, tried and convicted for your willful commission of crimes against the canon. Said crimes being numerous in quantity and sinister in nature. The most grievous of these to be cited herewith: being a Mary Sue, having a weird appearance, possessing a strange and historically incorrect name, being Jack Sparrow’s daughter, being an orphan when Jack’s obviously still alive, having an angsty/tragic past, being a Superlative Sue, i.e. the best fighter, most beautiful and most graceful woman around, breaking up a canonical romance, bashing Elizabeth, calling her “Elizabitch”, making her a wimp, making pretty much all of the canon personalities wildly out of character, wearing anachronistic and downright hideous clothing, utilizing corny magical jewelry, insulting a PPC agent-and, just for the fun of it, depravity, depredation and general lawlessness. And for these crimes you have been sentenced to be on this day, hung by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul.”
He felt a tremor beneath his feet and smiled in satisfaction. Elizabeth was shaking the logic of the Sue story to pieces. It would all be over shortly.
He pulled the lever.
Somewhere a little ways away, in the direction of the gallows to be precise, there came the crack of bone.
Elizabeth lurched forward onto Will as the world gave a tremendous shake and there was a loud snapping noise. Suddenly her head cleared completely and she recovered her courage. Elated that she was no longer frozen in place with fear, she looked up into Will’s face, searching for some sign of the man she had known. To her delight, Will smiled back at her with his characteristic gaze, shy but intense, that he had always reserved for her. The blacksmith gently set her back on her feet.
From a few feet away, a strawberry blond head appeared around the corner, and it wasn’t Crystallina’s. The young man had returned, whistling as he put the scroll into a rather bulky pack slung over one shoulder. The grapnel hook was swinging from the other, and he was dragging a rather large and bulky sack.
“Whew,” he said. “One Mary Sue down, twelve billion to go.” He dusted off his hands, glanced at Elizabeth again, and gave her a salute.
“Until next time, Miss Swann,” he said.
Elizabeth came forward. “How do you know my name? And what do you mean, next time? Where’s Crystallina?”
The man grimaced. “I’m with the Protectors of the Plot Continuum, Mary Sue Department. I have to know your name. An appearance driven, badly written and envious little creation was obsessed with your man and decided she had better steal him away from you. I had to send Crystallina Sue to the gallows, after charging her with all of the offenses she committed against your original story.” He patted the pack containing the scroll fondly. “Her ilk has no place here. Hopefully, the author will know better in the future. And as to your second question...as long as your character exists, there will be a next time.” His brown eyes regarded her with sympathy. “They hate you, those Sues.”
Then he whipped what looked like dark glasses out of his shirt pocket and put them on over his eyes.
“Will the romantic couple please look this way? In a moment, this situation will never have happened.”
Flash!
The two canon characters blinked in surprise. Their short-term memories had been erased. The tremors had stopped as the canon story was restored.
Thank goodness for those modified Men in Black neuralyzers, Isaiah remarked to himself. Makes-Things, the PPC engineer, was a miracle worker.
Agent Isaiah of the PPC flipped open his portal-generator and pressed the button. “Now, to dispose of the remains,” he said.
The portal brought him to an outcropping of rock in the shape of an arch, near the place where Captain Jack would eventually sail his sinking fishing dory. Three decomposing bodies wafted in the breeze.
Moments later, one dead pirate was taken down and another hung up. Isaiah looked at his handiwork with pride. Given a good month or two, the corpse would be indistinguishable from its canonical counterparts, and the attire would be so faded and ripped that it would pass for true pirate garb.
Mission completed, he lifted a finger, preparing to press the button that would open the doorway to PPC headquarters.
“Wait a moment,” he said. “I don’t have to go back there. I’m sick of gray walls and not being able to find my office unless I pretend not to look for it! I’m tired of having to take brain bleach to erase the memories of bad fics! We hardly get paid, for goodness’ sake!” He pumped his fists in the air in a triumphant and excruciatingly melodramatic gesture, known to some as Milking the Giant Cow. “I know! I’ll stay here and take over the story! I’ll get Elizabeth to fall in love with me, and she’ll be mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!”
He chuckled wickedly. “Now, to make myself tall, strong, handsome, blue-eyed...”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Agent Isaiah’s arms waved wildly even before his eyes were open. His entire body contorted as he fought to disentangle himself from his blankets. He half-rolled, half jumped out of bed, a very clumsy movement that resulted in his landing on both his left shoulder and the bridge of his nose.
“Arrgh! Yarr! Avast!” he yelled in panic as he sought to gain his bearings. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and shook his head forcefully, eyes blinking the room into focus. When he finally achieved full lucidity, the dream was still firmly entrenched in his memory. He wasn’t surprised, as horrific as it had been.
“Bleeprin,” he said weakly. “Need Bleeprin...”
After stumbling over to his medicine cabinet, he retrieved a small white bottle and shook out a couple of caplets containing a fictional yet potent mix of bleach and aspirin. Bleeprin was always good for glazing over unpleasant recollections. It was supposed to be used for actual PPCing, but Isaiah was not a morning person, and not accustomed to such vivid dreams. Besides, the dream was, for the most part, a flashback.
Strange and disturbing dreams were but a few of the side effects of working to defend the plot continuum. Other consequences included sporadic fits of temper, mild psychotic tendencies, and, in a couple of instances, complete mental collapse.
“Only two pills left,” he muttered distractedly, mentally attempting to review his agenda for the day. “Need to go to the PPC General Store soon.”
He settled for checking off the list of materials he would need for his next missions. The charge list scroll and pen that he had borrowed as a prop would still serve quite well instead of the traditional notebook and pencil. Besides, Isaiah had a lot of affection for old-fashioned props. Then there was the portal generator, his grappling hook for yanking Sues out of the stories, and his Character Analysis Device. Lastly, there were headphones for drowning out unpleasant sounds and dialogue, along with a very long book. Isaiah always brought “War and Peace” along with him in case the original characters made a hobby out of describing themselves, which they often did with gusto.
He hurried down to the PPC cafeteria and made a beeline for the beverage machine just as Rose Cotton Bomull was coming up beside him, looking like she hadn’t slept all night. They both stopped at the same time, and looked at each other.
Isaiah motioned towards the machine. “Be my guest. You look more worn out than I.”
Agent Rosie nodded in thanks and hurriedly poured herself a mugful of Romulan ale.
“Been on a mission?”
Agent Rosie groaned. “All night,” she said. “You would not believe it. Five separate Mary Sues in a single fic. Five! The Lord of the Rings section is overrun.”
“Mmm,” Isaiah made a noise of sympathy as he made himself a cup of coffee. “I’m lucky-got assigned to PotC just as the influx of stories is slowing to a trickle. Downside is, I have to PPC on my own-not enough agents to cover the section now that the Sues and Bad Slashers are converging on LotR. Potcverse is saturated with beautiful young females, half of them with blond hair and green eyes. Because SO MANY young females in the real world have blond hair and green eyes, doncha know. And the YouJack fics...let’s not get into those.”
Rose Cotton nodded as they sat down at a table. “Yes, I’ve heard of how they proliferate in that fandom, despite the fact that few are well written. Merc and Thalia at the Official University of the Caribbean Islands have their hands full as well. Misspelled Monkeys abound, apparently.”
“No kidding. I bagged Ilsa de Muerta just the other day.”
“ILSA de Muerta?”
“Unfortunately. Also, Totoga.”
Agent Rosie choked on her ale. “Soooomewheeeere ooover the raaaaaainbow...” she warbled mockingly.
“Could you keep it down?” grumbled Rian Silverleaf from the next table over. The agent had an icepack held to her head. “I had to sit through fifty minutes of Sue-song yesterday. She brought her Backstreet Boys CD to Middle Earth and performed them all herself. I swear I won’t be able to listen to music for a month without cringing.”
Rosie wordlessly passed Rian her own bottle of Bleeprin, which she carried with her at all times.
Isaiah downed his coffee in one long gulp, his manners just intact enough that he wiped his lips neatly on his napkin. “Got to go. Have an appointment with my department head at nine.”
“Happy wandering,” called Agent Rosie.
The trick to finding your way around PPC corridors was to pretend that you were lost or were looking for a place other than your destination. Isaiah, possessed of a rather vivid imagination, had no trouble reaching the office of his head of department, the Sunflower Official.
The S.O., dressed smartly in a gray suit with a white-striped red tie, glanced at him, if you could call it a glance. Really, the stalk of the giant sunflower twisted in Isaiah’s direction so that its petals face him.
If you want to get a partner, you’ll have to get up earlier than this, the sentient plant said. And yet you still seem wan.
“I...” Isaiah looked ill. “I had a flashback dream from yesterday’s kill...It was going fine, but at the very end...I turned into a Marty Stu!” His voice was strained. “I was making plans to run off with Elizabeth Swann! What’s wrong with me?”
Oh, relax, New Recruit. Those dreams happen to the best of agents. Agent Thalia Weaver had a dream not too long ago where she married Aragorn, who had been transformed into a broom by Sauron! The trick is to not let your fanboy instincts get the better of you. Now get back to your station. Another batch of PotC fics is scheduled to be processed today by 10:00, and you need to be ready. I wanted to inform you that while no new partner is available for you yet, a veteran PPCer is lined up for the job. You’ll be on your own for this mission, though.
Isaiah ground his teeth together, but managed a curt nod and exited hurriedly. An hour and seven minutes later...
[BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!]
The console that was Isaiah’s workstation went off. A questionable original female character had just appeared somewhere, no doubt trying to entice the nearest attractive male. His next ordeal had begun.
Isaiah shoved his feet into a pair of black sneakers and grabbed the monitor, turning it around swiftly to face him. He glanced as the words appeared line by line. He didn’t even need to see two paragraphs before he knew who was about to be hypnotized by the Sue.
“Goddamnit, Captain Jack,” Isaiah groaned. “Why is it always you?”
Also, see my belated but still beautiful quiz results!
Sam=my favorite LotR bookverse character
Aragorn=my favorite LotR movieverse character
Captain Jack Sparrow=my favorite PotC character
Will Turner=eh. At least he's a romantic hero.
I haven't seen "Finding Nemo" or the entire "Star Wars" trilogy (gasp!). And being alternately paired with both the most heroic and coolest "Harry Potter" characters...not bad, not bad at all.
I should lapse into delectable daydreams now, but I haven't actually fallen for any of the movie or book characters that I admire. It's kind of sad, in a way. Oh, well.
“Piratates” of the Caribbean: When Stories Run Amok
Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of its characters. Agents Isaiah and Mara belong to me; Agents Rosie Cotton Bomull and Ryan Silverleaf belong to their respective writers; Crystallina is also mine, placed in this fic to demonstrate common negative Mary Sue traits. The idea of the PPC belongs to Jay and Acacia, and is used with permission.
Many thanks to my beta, Writer from Rivendell, for proofreading.
A/N: The title is taken from the text of an actual Mary Sue, who loudly proclaimed to one and all that she was a piratate. If I were her, I’d have kept that bit of information to myself.
Elizabeth Swann looked over her shoulder once as she ran along the deserted side street, skirting the darkest shadows as she rushed headlong away from the light and graceful footsteps behind her. She barely caught a glimpse of the flashy garments that clothed her pursuer. She found herself out of breath, but kept going in the direction of the fort, hoping that her true love, Norrington, would be there to save her.
Wait a minute! That wasn’t right. Was it? Her true love was...Elizabeth shook her head in bewilderment. She could hardly tell up from down ever since that pirate wench had arrived, but her true love was Will. She was almost certain it was Will.
Elizabeth was being chased by a very unusual rogue. Crystallina Sparrow, she was called, evidently Jack’s long-lost daughter who, though surviving orphanage, an oppressive engagement, and two mutinies, had still managed to make herself the best pirate in the Caribbean, even more accomplished than her father. She had sailed in on the Black Pearl with Jack not two days ago, only to gawk, flirt and brush up against Will Turner when they had all met at the blacksmith’s shop. Crystallina Sparrow was prettier than Elizabeth, and more modest about it. Also, she was brave and extremely clever. Will had noticed all of this, and was reacting to his newfound enlightenment with curious phrases, such as, “Damn, Miss Sparrow, you’re sexy!” and “Crystallina is so cool, isn’t she, Jack?”
It was by then, of course, clear that Elizabeth was shallow and not deserving of Will. Nevertheless, the governor’s daughter refused to relinquish him to the nobler, kinder Crystallina, a selfish act if ever there was one. Still, Elizabeth had her pride, and when Crystallina had suggested that they step outside the smithy for a minute and have a little talk about the matter, Elizabeth had yelled at her to get out of town and leave Will alone. This was entirely rude and worthy of retribution-after all, Crystallina had repeatedly tried to be nice to “Elizabitch”, as the pirate maiden affectionately called the governor’s daughter. The next thing Elizabeth knew, she had surprised herself by slapping Crystallina, then losing her nerve and fleeing. Crystallina had pursued.
Elizabeth rounded a bend, but tripped on a conveniently placed rock. Peculiar how she had missed it before. Elizabeth struggled to her feet, ungainly in her many skirts. She looked back and saw the wench running towards her.
Crystallina’s appearance was unmistakable. The brightly colored blouse that adorned the pirate maiden was described by the Crystallina as “buttercup yellow,” and evidently it was supposed to look beautiful on her. Will had seemed to agree, but Elizabeth somehow lacked the fashion sense to appreciate the shirt, subtly complemented as it was by the clinging, hot pink breeches that adorned Crystallina’s thin legs.
Crystallina’s face was as pale as the moon, her hair as golden as the sun, and her eyes like two bright stars as they glittered predatorily at the governor’s daughter.
“Do not come between me and my true love!” she proclaimed fiercely, closing in. Elizabeth found herself hyperventilating. “I know that is why you slapped me. But I, unlike you, am above that.” She dangled a pendant before the governor’s daughter. “Behold, my magical necklace! It gives me powers, the likes of which you can only dream of! With it, you shall cower before me in shame!”
The pendant began to glow. As it did, the governor’s daughter found herself growing weaker. It was as if her spine had been turned into pulp.
Elizabeth became paralyzed with fear.
What in the world? she thought. I’ve been through a battle and seen ghost pirates! Surely I’m not afraid of this little hussy!
Unfortunately, the fear continued, pinning her to the wall, almost as if it were an extension of the extremely beautiful young lady. Elizabeth fought against it, but it was too great. Confused, she looked around for some means of combating her nemesis.
“Will is mine!” hissed Crystallina.
Heavy footsteps sounded near them. Will’s voice called out, “My love!”
“Will, I’m here!” Elizabeth gasped.
“Elizabeth?” Will came into view. He looked a little disgusted. “I wasn’t talking about you. I was speaking of the lovely Crystallina.”
Elizabeth’s mouth opened in absolute shock.
“But-but-”
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth,” he said. “I just don’t love you anymore. You were really more of an infatuation, nothing like true love.” He made a puppy dog face at the pirate lass. “Please, let’s go somewhere where we can be alone,” he begged Crystallina.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. She took a deep, ragged breath. She had just witnessed Will, the love of her life, look at her would-be attacker with adoration and deny his feelings for her. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be.
Always possessed of an inner strength, she resisted the feeling of slow suffocation that had accompanied his confession.
“Why, Will?” she asked, staring at him intently, leaning forward as far as the feeling of terror would let her. “You told me you loved me from the moment you met me! God, William, please tell me what’s wrong!”
His deep brown eyes locked with hers, and for a moment, she saw in them more than a little confusion. Then-
“You scum. You pile of slag.”
Elizabeth turned in the direction of the voice. She wondered if yet another person had come to hate her.
Elizabeth’s gaze found a young man of about her age dressed in slightly tattered, faded blue pants and a black shirt with short sleeves. She raised her eyebrows in surprise. To add to his odd attire, on each of his sleeves was emblazoned the image of a potted cactus.
To her relief, he was looking in the direction of Crystallina. Elizabeth gasped as he pulled out a grapnel hook and glared menacingly at the pirate wench.
His head swiveled in Elizabeth’s direction, and he seemed to recognize her instantly. He gave her a wide smile and a reassuring wink.
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” he continued in a strange accent. “She’ll be gone in a jiffy. I don’t suppose you could keep Mr. Turner occupied for a moment, could you?”
The female pirate was looking at him with pronounced distaste. “Who the hell are you, jerk?” she asked.
The young man pulled out a scroll and a curious looking quill pen. Without dipping it into ink, he began to write on the parchment. “Lapsing into modern slang. Insulting a PPC agent-”
“Hey! I asked what you were doing, dipwad. And what’s up with that old yellow paper?”
“Parchment, I think you mean. This, dear lady, is your charge list. It’s quite lengthy. You’ve caused a lot of trouble for the original characters, particularly Elizabeth.”
The governor’s daughter didn’t understand what was happening-perhaps because her brainpower had significantly diminished since Crystallina’s arrival-but the man seemed to be on her side, and he also appeared to be the only one who really knew what was happening to her world.
“How should I keep Will occupied?” Elizabeth wanted to know. “And why?”
“I need to nab Mary Sue here. Just keep asking him logical questions. That should keep him off balance. Normally, I’d just tell you to kiss him, but it seems someone-” his gaze again went reprovingly to Crystallina “-has been messing with his behavior.”
Slightly nonplussed, Elizabeth looked back at Will, whose expression was beginning to darken in the direction of the young man.
“Stay away from Crystallina,” the blacksmith warned.
Elizabeth tested her first logical query. “Why do you care about Crystallina so much?” she inquired. “You just met her.”
Will blinked and turned back to Elizabeth. “Because she’s my one true love.”
“What about her makes you love her?”
“Well...she’s beautiful...”
“I didn’t ask if you were attracted to her looks,” the governor’s daughter responded tartly. “I meant, what makes you love her as a person?”
Will responded promptly, “She’s independent and can best any man at sword fighting...”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in shock. “What?” Behind Will, the man had put his scroll of parchment away and was raising his grapnel hook in anticipation. The quill pen was tucked behind his ear. He nodded at Elizabeth in encouragement and made a gesture as if to say, “Keep going.”
Will nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes. She beat me in a duel, and I fell in love with her. She’s the best of the best.”
This was a rather stupider Will Turner than Elizabeth had been accustomed to dealing with, but she pressed on.
“Where did she learn to fight?”
The blacksmith’s brow furrowed.
“Oh...she taught herself.”
“She taught herself to be the best fighter you’ve ever seen?”
“Well...”
There was a slight sound of stretching in the air around her.
Elizabeth didn’t wait for him to puzzle it out. “Why does she have silvery eyes?”
“She was...born with them?”
“No one’s born with silver eyes, Will.”
Elizabeth felt herself slowly regaining her wit.
There was a small tremor beneath her feet. The stretching sound continued. “And why does she dress like that? Those clothes are not only ugly, but impractical. Why, that yellow shirt is as good as a bull’s eye!”
“Er...”
There was a muffled yelp from behind Will. He whirled around to find Crystallina gone. The blacksmith drew his sword.
“Where is she? That man must have taken her!” He looked around. Suddenly, he clutched his head. “Unh. What’s happening?”
The PPC agent, Isaiah, had grabbed the pirate wench, bound and gagged her, and dragged her towards the fort. The gallows were considerately set up, noose ready. Evidently there was to be a hanging the next morning. So much the better.
The youth would have been immediately beset by soldiers, but the author of the story hadn’t paid any attention to the area around the fort, so the scene appeared as Isaiah required it to be.
Crystallina found her neck encircled by a noose. She struggled with all her might as the man before her unrolled the scroll again and took a pair of reading glasses from his shirt pocket. Unfortunately, she had made herself so skinny-more slender than the governor’s daughter, to be precise-that she could barely move.
“Crystallina Sparrow,” began Isaiah, “be it known that you have been charged, tried and convicted for your willful commission of crimes against the canon. Said crimes being numerous in quantity and sinister in nature. The most grievous of these to be cited herewith: being a Mary Sue, having a weird appearance, possessing a strange and historically incorrect name, being Jack Sparrow’s daughter, being an orphan when Jack’s obviously still alive, having an angsty/tragic past, being a Superlative Sue, i.e. the best fighter, most beautiful and most graceful woman around, breaking up a canonical romance, bashing Elizabeth, calling her “Elizabitch”, making her a wimp, making pretty much all of the canon personalities wildly out of character, wearing anachronistic and downright hideous clothing, utilizing corny magical jewelry, insulting a PPC agent-and, just for the fun of it, depravity, depredation and general lawlessness. And for these crimes you have been sentenced to be on this day, hung by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul.”
He felt a tremor beneath his feet and smiled in satisfaction. Elizabeth was shaking the logic of the Sue story to pieces. It would all be over shortly.
He pulled the lever.
Somewhere a little ways away, in the direction of the gallows to be precise, there came the crack of bone.
Elizabeth lurched forward onto Will as the world gave a tremendous shake and there was a loud snapping noise. Suddenly her head cleared completely and she recovered her courage. Elated that she was no longer frozen in place with fear, she looked up into Will’s face, searching for some sign of the man she had known. To her delight, Will smiled back at her with his characteristic gaze, shy but intense, that he had always reserved for her. The blacksmith gently set her back on her feet.
From a few feet away, a strawberry blond head appeared around the corner, and it wasn’t Crystallina’s. The young man had returned, whistling as he put the scroll into a rather bulky pack slung over one shoulder. The grapnel hook was swinging from the other, and he was dragging a rather large and bulky sack.
“Whew,” he said. “One Mary Sue down, twelve billion to go.” He dusted off his hands, glanced at Elizabeth again, and gave her a salute.
“Until next time, Miss Swann,” he said.
Elizabeth came forward. “How do you know my name? And what do you mean, next time? Where’s Crystallina?”
The man grimaced. “I’m with the Protectors of the Plot Continuum, Mary Sue Department. I have to know your name. An appearance driven, badly written and envious little creation was obsessed with your man and decided she had better steal him away from you. I had to send Crystallina Sue to the gallows, after charging her with all of the offenses she committed against your original story.” He patted the pack containing the scroll fondly. “Her ilk has no place here. Hopefully, the author will know better in the future. And as to your second question...as long as your character exists, there will be a next time.” His brown eyes regarded her with sympathy. “They hate you, those Sues.”
Then he whipped what looked like dark glasses out of his shirt pocket and put them on over his eyes.
“Will the romantic couple please look this way? In a moment, this situation will never have happened.”
Flash!
The two canon characters blinked in surprise. Their short-term memories had been erased. The tremors had stopped as the canon story was restored.
Thank goodness for those modified Men in Black neuralyzers, Isaiah remarked to himself. Makes-Things, the PPC engineer, was a miracle worker.
Agent Isaiah of the PPC flipped open his portal-generator and pressed the button. “Now, to dispose of the remains,” he said.
The portal brought him to an outcropping of rock in the shape of an arch, near the place where Captain Jack would eventually sail his sinking fishing dory. Three decomposing bodies wafted in the breeze.
Moments later, one dead pirate was taken down and another hung up. Isaiah looked at his handiwork with pride. Given a good month or two, the corpse would be indistinguishable from its canonical counterparts, and the attire would be so faded and ripped that it would pass for true pirate garb.
Mission completed, he lifted a finger, preparing to press the button that would open the doorway to PPC headquarters.
“Wait a moment,” he said. “I don’t have to go back there. I’m sick of gray walls and not being able to find my office unless I pretend not to look for it! I’m tired of having to take brain bleach to erase the memories of bad fics! We hardly get paid, for goodness’ sake!” He pumped his fists in the air in a triumphant and excruciatingly melodramatic gesture, known to some as Milking the Giant Cow. “I know! I’ll stay here and take over the story! I’ll get Elizabeth to fall in love with me, and she’ll be mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!”
He chuckled wickedly. “Now, to make myself tall, strong, handsome, blue-eyed...”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Agent Isaiah’s arms waved wildly even before his eyes were open. His entire body contorted as he fought to disentangle himself from his blankets. He half-rolled, half jumped out of bed, a very clumsy movement that resulted in his landing on both his left shoulder and the bridge of his nose.
“Arrgh! Yarr! Avast!” he yelled in panic as he sought to gain his bearings. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and shook his head forcefully, eyes blinking the room into focus. When he finally achieved full lucidity, the dream was still firmly entrenched in his memory. He wasn’t surprised, as horrific as it had been.
“Bleeprin,” he said weakly. “Need Bleeprin...”
After stumbling over to his medicine cabinet, he retrieved a small white bottle and shook out a couple of caplets containing a fictional yet potent mix of bleach and aspirin. Bleeprin was always good for glazing over unpleasant recollections. It was supposed to be used for actual PPCing, but Isaiah was not a morning person, and not accustomed to such vivid dreams. Besides, the dream was, for the most part, a flashback.
Strange and disturbing dreams were but a few of the side effects of working to defend the plot continuum. Other consequences included sporadic fits of temper, mild psychotic tendencies, and, in a couple of instances, complete mental collapse.
“Only two pills left,” he muttered distractedly, mentally attempting to review his agenda for the day. “Need to go to the PPC General Store soon.”
He settled for checking off the list of materials he would need for his next missions. The charge list scroll and pen that he had borrowed as a prop would still serve quite well instead of the traditional notebook and pencil. Besides, Isaiah had a lot of affection for old-fashioned props. Then there was the portal generator, his grappling hook for yanking Sues out of the stories, and his Character Analysis Device. Lastly, there were headphones for drowning out unpleasant sounds and dialogue, along with a very long book. Isaiah always brought “War and Peace” along with him in case the original characters made a hobby out of describing themselves, which they often did with gusto.
He hurried down to the PPC cafeteria and made a beeline for the beverage machine just as Rose Cotton Bomull was coming up beside him, looking like she hadn’t slept all night. They both stopped at the same time, and looked at each other.
Isaiah motioned towards the machine. “Be my guest. You look more worn out than I.”
Agent Rosie nodded in thanks and hurriedly poured herself a mugful of Romulan ale.
“Been on a mission?”
Agent Rosie groaned. “All night,” she said. “You would not believe it. Five separate Mary Sues in a single fic. Five! The Lord of the Rings section is overrun.”
“Mmm,” Isaiah made a noise of sympathy as he made himself a cup of coffee. “I’m lucky-got assigned to PotC just as the influx of stories is slowing to a trickle. Downside is, I have to PPC on my own-not enough agents to cover the section now that the Sues and Bad Slashers are converging on LotR. Potcverse is saturated with beautiful young females, half of them with blond hair and green eyes. Because SO MANY young females in the real world have blond hair and green eyes, doncha know. And the YouJack fics...let’s not get into those.”
Rose Cotton nodded as they sat down at a table. “Yes, I’ve heard of how they proliferate in that fandom, despite the fact that few are well written. Merc and Thalia at the Official University of the Caribbean Islands have their hands full as well. Misspelled Monkeys abound, apparently.”
“No kidding. I bagged Ilsa de Muerta just the other day.”
“ILSA de Muerta?”
“Unfortunately. Also, Totoga.”
Agent Rosie choked on her ale. “Soooomewheeeere ooover the raaaaaainbow...” she warbled mockingly.
“Could you keep it down?” grumbled Rian Silverleaf from the next table over. The agent had an icepack held to her head. “I had to sit through fifty minutes of Sue-song yesterday. She brought her Backstreet Boys CD to Middle Earth and performed them all herself. I swear I won’t be able to listen to music for a month without cringing.”
Rosie wordlessly passed Rian her own bottle of Bleeprin, which she carried with her at all times.
Isaiah downed his coffee in one long gulp, his manners just intact enough that he wiped his lips neatly on his napkin. “Got to go. Have an appointment with my department head at nine.”
“Happy wandering,” called Agent Rosie.
The trick to finding your way around PPC corridors was to pretend that you were lost or were looking for a place other than your destination. Isaiah, possessed of a rather vivid imagination, had no trouble reaching the office of his head of department, the Sunflower Official.
The S.O., dressed smartly in a gray suit with a white-striped red tie, glanced at him, if you could call it a glance. Really, the stalk of the giant sunflower twisted in Isaiah’s direction so that its petals face him.
If you want to get a partner, you’ll have to get up earlier than this, the sentient plant said. And yet you still seem wan.
“I...” Isaiah looked ill. “I had a flashback dream from yesterday’s kill...It was going fine, but at the very end...I turned into a Marty Stu!” His voice was strained. “I was making plans to run off with Elizabeth Swann! What’s wrong with me?”
Oh, relax, New Recruit. Those dreams happen to the best of agents. Agent Thalia Weaver had a dream not too long ago where she married Aragorn, who had been transformed into a broom by Sauron! The trick is to not let your fanboy instincts get the better of you. Now get back to your station. Another batch of PotC fics is scheduled to be processed today by 10:00, and you need to be ready. I wanted to inform you that while no new partner is available for you yet, a veteran PPCer is lined up for the job. You’ll be on your own for this mission, though.
Isaiah ground his teeth together, but managed a curt nod and exited hurriedly. An hour and seven minutes later...
[BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!]
The console that was Isaiah’s workstation went off. A questionable original female character had just appeared somewhere, no doubt trying to entice the nearest attractive male. His next ordeal had begun.
Isaiah shoved his feet into a pair of black sneakers and grabbed the monitor, turning it around swiftly to face him. He glanced as the words appeared line by line. He didn’t even need to see two paragraphs before he knew who was about to be hypnotized by the Sue.
“Goddamnit, Captain Jack,” Isaiah groaned. “Why is it always you?”
Also, see my belated but still beautiful quiz results!
Sam=my favorite LotR bookverse character
Aragorn=my favorite LotR movieverse character
Captain Jack Sparrow=my favorite PotC character
Will Turner=eh. At least he's a romantic hero.
I haven't seen "Finding Nemo" or the entire "Star Wars" trilogy (gasp!). And being alternately paired with both the most heroic and coolest "Harry Potter" characters...not bad, not bad at all.
I should lapse into delectable daydreams now, but I haven't actually fallen for any of the movie or book characters that I admire. It's kind of sad, in a way. Oh, well.