First Intermission
Agents Karma and Nemia were not friends; they were partners. On missions, they enjoyed joking around together to lighten the mood and keep the insanity at bay. There was a very good reason that assassins worked in pairs: when there was no bleeprin in sight, companionship was an excellent substitute.
Back at Headquarters, however, the two agents were liable to contribute to each other’s mental instability. Their personalities clashed, as did their daily routines. Karma never managed to get to the bathroom first in the mornings, and Nemia’s ten-minute-long showers left her with frigid water. Nemia had trouble napping with all of the noise Karma made. She had never before met anyone who could be so loud about reading. Karma had a weak stomach when it came to dramatic irony, and could often be heard shouting at the characters in her books. Then there was that laugh. It sounded to Nemia like a barrel of monkeys lodged in the back of her throat.
Consequently, the two of them had an implicit agreement that when given the chance to spend time away from each other they would take it. For example, they tended to eat lunch at different tables.
On this particular day, however, Nemia noticed as she carried her tray through the cafeteria and back towards the call center that her partner was eating alone. Or, at least, she was sitting alone with a large sparkly soufflé in front of her, a fork in one hand, and a miserable expression on her face. Very little actual eating appeared to be taking place. Nemia frowned, reflecting that Karma had been having a rough time since the Elizabeth Tudor assassination and that she herself was probably partially responsible. In retrospect, she realized that she might have been a bit easier on the girl’s windpipe when she restrained her. With this in mind, she decided to risk being nice.
“Hey Karma,” she said, sidling into the chair opposite her. “What’s on your mind?”
Karma looked up at her and smiled slightly before launching into a rant. “You know what always gets me about badfic in the Whoverse?” Nemia forced herself to smile politely and shook her head. “There are so very few rules, yet the Suethors invariably manage to break what ones there are. If ever there were a continuum where it’s possible to write a valid self-insert, this would be it. The Doctor is known for taking attractive young women as his Companions. Captain Jack Harkness is known for sleeping with anything that moves. There are virtually no limits to what can be used as a setting; the whole of space, time, and imagination is up for grabs. Anachronisms are not a problem, so long as the author takes all of two seconds to describe how they got there. The science doesn’t have to work if sounds right, and it doesn’t have to sound right if it works. Minor continuity errors can be let slide, and even major ones can be forgiven if there’s a precedent for them somewhere in the extensive canon. Here’s an example: ever heard of the Eleventh Doctor on Whofic?”
“Which one?”
“The female in a polygamous relationship with Jack and Rose -- that’s another thing; threesomes are acceptable! Anyway, there’s one story where she goes back in time and sleeps with Nine in order to create hope for the survival of the Time Lords as a species.”
Nemia shuddered. “Ew.”
“I know, right? Only here’s the thing; it was really well-written. Jack and Rose each reacted the way you would expect them to in such a situation. Nine was so in-character that it nearly broke my fangirl heart. All of the practical concerns with such a coupling were taken into consideration and sorted out. And, best of all, the description of the actual sex was limited to a few rather poetic sentences about how Eleven knew the moment she had conceived. In short, the author took the ultimate badfic premise and turned it into a goodfic. Or an acceptablefic, at any rate; there were a few really brain-breaking moments. All I’m saying is that if an author can manage that, you really have to wonder how it’s even possible to write badfic in this continuum.” Satisfied, she took a bite of her soufflé.
Nemia just smiled and nodded. “I agree,” she said stiffly, and looked miserably at her own food. She had been quite put off of it. “Well, I’m glad to see you survived the No Drool videos.”
Karma’s cheeks bulged as though she were about to throw up, but, with a determined gulp, she managed to swallow. “Not while I’m eating!” With a moan, she pushed the plate away and clutched at her stomach.
Ah, pay back. Nemia just managed to keep from grinning. “How did that go, anyway?”
“Well,” she said matter-of-factly, “after vainly begging for mercy and struggling with my bonds for an hour or so, I eventually despaired and gave into the pain. From that point on, it was mostly just sitting in numb silence and letting the horror wash over me. But you know how it is.”
“Ouch.”
“Ah, well, can’t be helped,” she continued with forced disinterest. “I tried to alter the canon, albeit minutely. She who fights Sues should be careful lest she thereby become a Sue. I looked into the badfic, and the badfic looked into me.”
“Phrase stealing! Only, I don’t recall that first part.”
“That’s because Rose was considerate enough to leave it out. She was phrase-stealing herself, you know. It comes from Nietzsche, and the abyss was originally a bad thing.”
“So was the Big Bad Wolf.”
“True. So, what were you up to while I was suffering? Sleeping, I’ll bet.”
“No, actually. I managed to get rid of that awful shapeshifting necklace.”
“Ah, good. It hurt to look at. What did you do with it?”
“I gave it to the Department of Imaginary Objects. They like all shiny things, even the sort that make normal people’s eyes water. They gave it to this weird little mini-creature.”
“What sort of mini?”
“I don’t know. It looked to be part crocodile, part lion, part hippo.”
“Aw!” Karma wibbled. “Sounds unbearably cute. I wish I could have been there.”
“You think all minis are cute.”
“Yes, but this one’s a chimera! Were you told what fandom it came from?”
“Egyptian mythology.”
“Ah. That would explain why I haven’t heard of it. I know Gnostic, Greek, Babylonian, and Indian, but no Egyptian.” Karma hazarded another bite of food, and was pleased to discover that her stomach was no longer rejecting it.
“Karma?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s not really the Suefflé you’re eating, is it?”
“Sure it is. Is there a problem?”
Nemia felt queasy for the second time since she had sat down with her partner. She was beginning to think that this had been a bad idea. “Didn’t you tell me once that you’re a vegetarian?”
“Well, they don’t exactly serve many things I can eat here, and I don’t dare ask the Flowers to put more vegetables on the menu.”
“Why not?” Nemia received a glare for an answer. “Oh, right. I’m sure they wouldn’t be prejudiced about it, though. They must know that most plants aren’t sentient.”
“Maybe, but I’m not courageous enough to try it. Anyway,” she continued with a malicious grin, “for all I know, this could be Elizabeth Tudor. If I’ve already killed it, I might as well eat it. Technically, violence also goes against my religion, but I think the chances of being reincarnated as a Sue are pretty slim.”
“What religion are you, anyway?” Nemia asked, jumping at the opportunity to change the subject. Spirituality might be boring, she thought, but at least it’s not likely to be nauseating.
“Well,” Karma said cheerfully, always pleased to be talking about herself, “I was raised as a Hindu. It’s a lovely religion, really, all about natural cycles and eternal change. Then Davies got me into Gnosticism. Since then, I tend to mix and match. The pacifism and vegetarianism comes from Hinduism; since all living creature are connected by the brahman, it’s bad karma to eat anything even remotely sentient. That, plus it could have been your grandmother in another life.”
Nemia sighed. Her food was going cold, and it did not appear as though Karma planned to stop talking about eating unpleasant things any time soon.
“What about you?” Karma asked.
“What about me?”
“What’s your religious orientation?”
“Don’t have one. I rather hope there aren’t any gods. If there are, they’re bound to be a disappointment to anyone who worships them.”
“Aw, what makes you say that?”
“Well, the existence of badfic, for one thing.”
“Maybe the Mary Sues have their own god,” Karma suggested. “Maybe they have their own pantheon.” She considered this for a moment. “No, it’s probably just one goddess. With more than that, they’d probably have a Golden Apple-type incident nearly every day.”
Nemia grinned. “She probably writes mockups of all the world’s holy texts pairing herself up with various gods.”
“Hee! I’d like to see her try and seduce Shiva. Parvati would kick her arse.” She paused. “We’re talking utter nonsense, aren’t we?”
“Most likely.”
There was an interval of silence during which Nemia at last managed to get down a few bites of her burger, but quickly gave up on it. It was unappetizing enough when it was not stone cold. “I think I’m going to head back the response center,” she said, standing up. “It feels like nap time.”
“Why do you sleep so much,” Karma asked before she had a chance to think better of it.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
Something in her partner’s voice gave Karma pause. “I don’t know,” she said cautiously. “Do I?”
“Probably not.”
“Yes, then.” Karma never could resist forbidden knowledge.
“Suit yourself.” Nemia sat back down and propped herself up by her elbows. “I like to sleep because I like to dream. I have good dreams.”
“What do you dream about?”
“That badfic and Mary Sues and the PPC don’t exist, and that I’m living out my life in peace back where I came from.”
“Oh.” Karma could not think of any real reply to that. “That’s... interesting.”
“Oh, it is!” Nemia said with enthusiasm “When I fall asleep there, I wake up here, and vice versa. To be completely honest, I’m not really sure which life is real and which is a dream.”
“So what you’re saying is that you think I might be nothing but a figment of your imagination.” Karma was downright insulted.
“Pretty much.”
“Doesn’t that drive you crazy?”
“Quite the contrary; it keeps me sane. Whenever I have a bad day, I can just tell myself that it’s only a dream and that the waking world isn’t really this screwed up.”
“If you really feel that way about what we do here, why don’t you just get your mind wiped and go back home?”
Nemia’s face fell and her shoulders sagged a bit. “I can’t,” she said quietly.
“Why not?”
“Because if what I learned after being recruited is true, I’m due to die in a few weeks back there.”
“Oh.” For the second time in a very short time, Karma was lost for words. “I’m sorry.”
Nemia just stood up and yawned. “Well, it was nice talking to you,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “Now I really am going to go nap. Bye!”
“See you later!”
And I thought she was the designated relatively sane person on our team, Karma thought in amazement as her partner walked away. Poor thing, she’s absolutely batty. Quite nearly a clinical case, I’d say. Then she noticed that Nemia had left behind her lunch and happily yoinked her fruit cup.
Back at Headquarters, however, the two agents were liable to contribute to each other’s mental instability. Their personalities clashed, as did their daily routines. Karma never managed to get to the bathroom first in the mornings, and Nemia’s ten-minute-long showers left her with frigid water. Nemia had trouble napping with all of the noise Karma made. She had never before met anyone who could be so loud about reading. Karma had a weak stomach when it came to dramatic irony, and could often be heard shouting at the characters in her books. Then there was that laugh. It sounded to Nemia like a barrel of monkeys lodged in the back of her throat.
Consequently, the two of them had an implicit agreement that when given the chance to spend time away from each other they would take it. For example, they tended to eat lunch at different tables.
On this particular day, however, Nemia noticed as she carried her tray through the cafeteria and back towards the call center that her partner was eating alone. Or, at least, she was sitting alone with a large sparkly soufflé in front of her, a fork in one hand, and a miserable expression on her face. Very little actual eating appeared to be taking place. Nemia frowned, reflecting that Karma had been having a rough time since the Elizabeth Tudor assassination and that she herself was probably partially responsible. In retrospect, she realized that she might have been a bit easier on the girl’s windpipe when she restrained her. With this in mind, she decided to risk being nice.
“Hey Karma,” she said, sidling into the chair opposite her. “What’s on your mind?”
Karma looked up at her and smiled slightly before launching into a rant. “You know what always gets me about badfic in the Whoverse?” Nemia forced herself to smile politely and shook her head. “There are so very few rules, yet the Suethors invariably manage to break what ones there are. If ever there were a continuum where it’s possible to write a valid self-insert, this would be it. The Doctor is known for taking attractive young women as his Companions. Captain Jack Harkness is known for sleeping with anything that moves. There are virtually no limits to what can be used as a setting; the whole of space, time, and imagination is up for grabs. Anachronisms are not a problem, so long as the author takes all of two seconds to describe how they got there. The science doesn’t have to work if sounds right, and it doesn’t have to sound right if it works. Minor continuity errors can be let slide, and even major ones can be forgiven if there’s a precedent for them somewhere in the extensive canon. Here’s an example: ever heard of the Eleventh Doctor on Whofic?”
“Which one?”
“The female in a polygamous relationship with Jack and Rose -- that’s another thing; threesomes are acceptable! Anyway, there’s one story where she goes back in time and sleeps with Nine in order to create hope for the survival of the Time Lords as a species.”
Nemia shuddered. “Ew.”
“I know, right? Only here’s the thing; it was really well-written. Jack and Rose each reacted the way you would expect them to in such a situation. Nine was so in-character that it nearly broke my fangirl heart. All of the practical concerns with such a coupling were taken into consideration and sorted out. And, best of all, the description of the actual sex was limited to a few rather poetic sentences about how Eleven knew the moment she had conceived. In short, the author took the ultimate badfic premise and turned it into a goodfic. Or an acceptablefic, at any rate; there were a few really brain-breaking moments. All I’m saying is that if an author can manage that, you really have to wonder how it’s even possible to write badfic in this continuum.” Satisfied, she took a bite of her soufflé.
Nemia just smiled and nodded. “I agree,” she said stiffly, and looked miserably at her own food. She had been quite put off of it. “Well, I’m glad to see you survived the No Drool videos.”
Karma’s cheeks bulged as though she were about to throw up, but, with a determined gulp, she managed to swallow. “Not while I’m eating!” With a moan, she pushed the plate away and clutched at her stomach.
Ah, pay back. Nemia just managed to keep from grinning. “How did that go, anyway?”
“Well,” she said matter-of-factly, “after vainly begging for mercy and struggling with my bonds for an hour or so, I eventually despaired and gave into the pain. From that point on, it was mostly just sitting in numb silence and letting the horror wash over me. But you know how it is.”
“Ouch.”
“Ah, well, can’t be helped,” she continued with forced disinterest. “I tried to alter the canon, albeit minutely. She who fights Sues should be careful lest she thereby become a Sue. I looked into the badfic, and the badfic looked into me.”
“Phrase stealing! Only, I don’t recall that first part.”
“That’s because Rose was considerate enough to leave it out. She was phrase-stealing herself, you know. It comes from Nietzsche, and the abyss was originally a bad thing.”
“So was the Big Bad Wolf.”
“True. So, what were you up to while I was suffering? Sleeping, I’ll bet.”
“No, actually. I managed to get rid of that awful shapeshifting necklace.”
“Ah, good. It hurt to look at. What did you do with it?”
“I gave it to the Department of Imaginary Objects. They like all shiny things, even the sort that make normal people’s eyes water. They gave it to this weird little mini-creature.”
“What sort of mini?”
“I don’t know. It looked to be part crocodile, part lion, part hippo.”
“Aw!” Karma wibbled. “Sounds unbearably cute. I wish I could have been there.”
“You think all minis are cute.”
“Yes, but this one’s a chimera! Were you told what fandom it came from?”
“Egyptian mythology.”
“Ah. That would explain why I haven’t heard of it. I know Gnostic, Greek, Babylonian, and Indian, but no Egyptian.” Karma hazarded another bite of food, and was pleased to discover that her stomach was no longer rejecting it.
“Karma?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s not really the Suefflé you’re eating, is it?”
“Sure it is. Is there a problem?”
Nemia felt queasy for the second time since she had sat down with her partner. She was beginning to think that this had been a bad idea. “Didn’t you tell me once that you’re a vegetarian?”
“Well, they don’t exactly serve many things I can eat here, and I don’t dare ask the Flowers to put more vegetables on the menu.”
“Why not?” Nemia received a glare for an answer. “Oh, right. I’m sure they wouldn’t be prejudiced about it, though. They must know that most plants aren’t sentient.”
“Maybe, but I’m not courageous enough to try it. Anyway,” she continued with a malicious grin, “for all I know, this could be Elizabeth Tudor. If I’ve already killed it, I might as well eat it. Technically, violence also goes against my religion, but I think the chances of being reincarnated as a Sue are pretty slim.”
“What religion are you, anyway?” Nemia asked, jumping at the opportunity to change the subject. Spirituality might be boring, she thought, but at least it’s not likely to be nauseating.
“Well,” Karma said cheerfully, always pleased to be talking about herself, “I was raised as a Hindu. It’s a lovely religion, really, all about natural cycles and eternal change. Then Davies got me into Gnosticism. Since then, I tend to mix and match. The pacifism and vegetarianism comes from Hinduism; since all living creature are connected by the brahman, it’s bad karma to eat anything even remotely sentient. That, plus it could have been your grandmother in another life.”
Nemia sighed. Her food was going cold, and it did not appear as though Karma planned to stop talking about eating unpleasant things any time soon.
“What about you?” Karma asked.
“What about me?”
“What’s your religious orientation?”
“Don’t have one. I rather hope there aren’t any gods. If there are, they’re bound to be a disappointment to anyone who worships them.”
“Aw, what makes you say that?”
“Well, the existence of badfic, for one thing.”
“Maybe the Mary Sues have their own god,” Karma suggested. “Maybe they have their own pantheon.” She considered this for a moment. “No, it’s probably just one goddess. With more than that, they’d probably have a Golden Apple-type incident nearly every day.”
Nemia grinned. “She probably writes mockups of all the world’s holy texts pairing herself up with various gods.”
“Hee! I’d like to see her try and seduce Shiva. Parvati would kick her arse.” She paused. “We’re talking utter nonsense, aren’t we?”
“Most likely.”
There was an interval of silence during which Nemia at last managed to get down a few bites of her burger, but quickly gave up on it. It was unappetizing enough when it was not stone cold. “I think I’m going to head back the response center,” she said, standing up. “It feels like nap time.”
“Why do you sleep so much,” Karma asked before she had a chance to think better of it.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
Something in her partner’s voice gave Karma pause. “I don’t know,” she said cautiously. “Do I?”
“Probably not.”
“Yes, then.” Karma never could resist forbidden knowledge.
“Suit yourself.” Nemia sat back down and propped herself up by her elbows. “I like to sleep because I like to dream. I have good dreams.”
“What do you dream about?”
“That badfic and Mary Sues and the PPC don’t exist, and that I’m living out my life in peace back where I came from.”
“Oh.” Karma could not think of any real reply to that. “That’s... interesting.”
“Oh, it is!” Nemia said with enthusiasm “When I fall asleep there, I wake up here, and vice versa. To be completely honest, I’m not really sure which life is real and which is a dream.”
“So what you’re saying is that you think I might be nothing but a figment of your imagination.” Karma was downright insulted.
“Pretty much.”
“Doesn’t that drive you crazy?”
“Quite the contrary; it keeps me sane. Whenever I have a bad day, I can just tell myself that it’s only a dream and that the waking world isn’t really this screwed up.”
“If you really feel that way about what we do here, why don’t you just get your mind wiped and go back home?”
Nemia’s face fell and her shoulders sagged a bit. “I can’t,” she said quietly.
“Why not?”
“Because if what I learned after being recruited is true, I’m due to die in a few weeks back there.”
“Oh.” For the second time in a very short time, Karma was lost for words. “I’m sorry.”
Nemia just stood up and yawned. “Well, it was nice talking to you,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “Now I really am going to go nap. Bye!”
“See you later!”
And I thought she was the designated relatively sane person on our team, Karma thought in amazement as her partner walked away. Poor thing, she’s absolutely batty. Quite nearly a clinical case, I’d say. Then she noticed that Nemia had left behind her lunch and happily yoinked her fruit cup.