Author's note: This fic came out of a bout of insanity a few months back! I found it, and decided to pick it up again. This is meant to be a parody of all the Mary Sue-like characters I've seen in various fanfics, not necessarily NWN2 ones, but I figured, hey, why not torment the NWN2 men? ;) So, I hope you enjoy! It's just supposed to be goofy and funny and a good laugh. Also, cookies to anyone who picks up the Venture Brothers reference. And my apologies about review replies, I've been having issues accessing my gmail account, and I just figured out how to send replies here. So, my bad! Enjoy the mockery! And just in case, most errors you see here are supposed to be there. Some are actual mistakes, but others are supposed to be there:D
"Now, Amethyst Rose Periwinkle Sapphire, I can't have you sitting around the Flagon all the time," Duncan chided, "Otherwise, my patrons might start having a bad influence on you."
"But Duncan," the breathtakingly-gorgeous half-gold dragon, half-celestial, half-elven vampyre protested good-naturedly, "Please, I've asked you to call me Mairee, I don't like my full name! And I enjoy your company so much! Why would you want me to go away?"
"Because, I don't like the way Bishop looks at you," Duncan said firmly, "He's a dangerous man, and he's always staring at you. And who couldn't! In all honesty, you dress in the trendiest ways. I didn't even know we had a Dolce & Gabbana in Neverwinter! And who knew you could get Manolo Blahnik Croc Slingbacks in Blacklake…"
"Well, a girl has to look her best," the spectacularly-beautiful young woman sighed, smoothing out her Marc Jacobs striped miniskirt, "But fine, I'll avoid Bishop. Despite the fact that he's devastatingly handsome and probably amazing in the sack, I'll avoid him. For now, at least until my womanly wiles trick him into revealing feelings even he didn't know he had. And then, he shall go all out-of-character and become soft, girly, wussy and want to pick out china with me."
"Good. Now, off to bed with you," Duncan smiled, "You have to get up bright and early tomorrow to be errand-girl for Lord Nasher and the City Watch. I know it's a hard life being a paladin and cleric of Sune, not to mention being one of the top warlocks and bards in Neverwinter, but you have to do it. Oh, and don't forget to take Puggles upstairs! I don't care if she's your animal companion -- and you're not a ranger or a druid, which is strange -- but I can't have Siberian Tigers scaring off my customers!"
"Sure, Duncan, see you in the morning," Mairee said, her voice as sweet as honey -- but too bad it was the honey that builds up at the top of the jar. You know, that stuff that hardens into crystals and is really, really, really, sickeningly sweet? Yeah, like that. "Come on, Puggles!"
As Mairee walked to her room, her delicate elven ears picked up the sound of someone stirring in the nearby darkness. She nervously tossed her waist-length, silken curtain of shockingly-blonde hair over her shoulder, and her sparkling violet eyes were wide in fear-
"No! Scratch that!"
Her eyes were bright with curiosity at the strange voice emanating from above. "Who's there?"
She was suddenly aware of the fact that she'd eaten dinner in a revealing negligee as Bishop stepped out of the shadows. He looked down and realized that he was dressed in only a pair of loose linen trousers, despite having been in his leathers mere seconds earlier.
"Wait," he mumbled, "Where did my shirt go?"
"It's back in your room," a voice roared, "You can't be fully clothed when you meet the most beautiful woman you've ever seen!"
"Why not?" he snapped, "And who in the Hells are you?"
"I'm the narrator," the voice boomed out, "Ignore me!"
Bishop shrugged and turned back to the angel standing before him. Oblivious to the fact of never having met her before, he pulled Mairee into a tight embrace, pressing his thigh between her flawless, porcelain legs.
"Oh, Amethyst Rose Periwinkle Sapphire-"
"Please, Bishop, call me Mairee."
"Oh, Mairee, I have watched you now for all of three hours and I have fallen hopelessly in love with you-"
"No, wait," the narrator bellowed, "Scratch that too!"
"All right, I find you magnificent in your beauty-"
"Scratch that as well!"
"Will you stop that?'"
"Fine! I want to get into your bed, right now," the well-muscled hottie of a ranger growled, his honey-and-amber-brown eyes smoldering with lust.
"My," Mairee gasped, her eyes a twinkling cerulean and her voluptuous bosom heaving, but somehow not jiggling like a cup of Jell-O on a trampoline, "Bishop, I thank you, but I hardly know you, I-"
Suddenly, the door to the Flagon burst open and a handsome hunk of a paladin stepped through it, wincing as the door bounced back to hit him in the nose. Mairee snapped her head around, and her long sheet of vibrant auburn hair flew gracefully about her face. Bishop yelped as errant strands of rich copper hit him in the eyes. The newcomer spoke.
"I am Casavir, paladin of Tyr, the Katalmach and I am here to fight for the honor and the love-"
"Who is that?" Casavir whispered to Bishop.
"The narrator. Ignore her."
"Um, I want to fight for the right to bed this gorgeous woman I see before me!" the powerfully-built hunk said righteously, his voice rumbling in a deep, sexy baritone, "Despite the fact that I shouldn't even be here yet, I'm technically back in Old Owl Well fighting orcs, I am here to fight for you, Amethyst Rose Periwinkle Sapphire!"
"It's Mairee!" Bishop snarled.
"Fine, Mairee, I am here to fight for your affections!" Casavir said proudly, ripping her from the ranger's arms and into his own. He ran his fingers through her shining hair, hair the color as black as the underside of a raven's wing -- or black shoe polish, depending on your tastes. "Please, my lady, permit me to prove my chivalrous intentions with you."
Mairee gasped again as a strikingly good-looking elven man stepped through the open door, bringing a gust of wind with him that caused the short skirt of her negligee to lift up, revealing her exquisite bottom. She squealed in embarrassment and quickly pulled it back down, but not before hesitating long enough for the men to get a good look.
"I am Sand, and even though I am not supposed to be a permanent companion until Act II, I am here to vie for your attentions as well, Amethyst Rose Periwinkle Sapphire! Your elven grace and beauty has ensnared me even though you're only half-elven... and a vampire-"
"Vampyre," Mairee corrected.
"And a half-gold dragon... and an aasimer!"
"I'm not an aasimer!" she protested, "I'm a half-celestial!"
"Oh, well then, I must be reading the first draft of this script. But it doesn't matter! I can make colors come out of my fingertips!" he said, wiggling his fingers.
"Shove off, you herb-sniffing wuss!" Bishop spat, "Mairee's mine!"
"You are incorrect, my friend," Casavir said calmly, "She's currently in my arms right now, and I have no intentions of relinquishing her."
"No, please!" Mairee pleaded; her grass-
Emerald-green eyes wide and brimming with tears, "I can't handle fighting! I just can't! Please!"
"Well then, I shall have to settle the fight now, won't I?" a deep voice growled from outside. An attractive warlock stepped in, an impressive latticework of glowing tattoos covering his face and head.
"And who are you, tattoo-face?" Bishop snapped.
"I am Ammon Jerro. I'm technically the bad guy through Acts I and II. You know, I'm trying to save the world, you get in my way, so I try to kill you with demons and devils and all that, but in Act III I'm your companion and your friend. Of course, it's only after I kill a dear friend of yours, but all that aside, I must declare my intentions to woo this woman!"
"I hope all you newcomers can pay for rooms!" Duncan shouted from somewhere off-screen. "And nobody says 'woo' anymore!"
"Fine then, seduce!" Ammon yelled back, sweeping into an exaggerated bow. Mairee's chestnut locks rippled in the gentle breeze now coming from the open door. "Despite me having a wife and a family a century ago, I find this sixteen-year-old young woman utterly tempting and alluring, despite her being a hundred and twenty years younger than I! She is mature beyond her years, in every way! Her magical powers dwarf even mine! In her scant sixteen years on this plane I know she is the woman who will save the world, and I wish to take her out to dinner-"
"Are you kidding me?"
"I mean, take her as my own!"
"Wait, isn't Nevalle supposed to be here too?" Sand murmured to Casavir as Ammon and Bishop stared daggers at each other over Mairee's head.
"He's too busy fixing his hair. Too much gel," Casavir mumbled back, "But it matters not! We four shall quarrel amongst ourselves, with or without hair-boy."
Mairee pressed the back of a delicate hand to her forehead. "All this attention, all this testosterone, it's just too much!" she cried, "I-I feel woozy."
And with that, she swooned into Casavir's arms, but not before smacking her head on a table.