Author's note: All right, guys, for this chapter, just for a bit of fun, I borrowed some other authors' main characters for cameos. And while I wish I could have included everyone's character that I wanted to, I tried it, and it just got so convoluted and confusing that I had to cut some out (hence the unbelievable delay between chapters, this has to be the 60th rewrite of this thing). "Charlie Foxtrot" ceased to be an adequate description. So, to make it fair, I wrote all the PC's names that I could think of on slips of paper, put them in a box, and asked a friend to choose six. The six that came out are: ParadoxPortal's Piper (the ginger-haired bard), DarthIxnay's Gina (the white-haired woman), femensqueterror's Exlen (the sun elf) Cougarmadcat's Avera (the red-haired halfling), Sticksie's Lana (the raven-haired rogue) and my Cari (the green-eyed woman). The whole scene is supposed to be hilarious, so, I hope it is! I really do wish that I could have included everyone's characters, I really wanted to, but I just couldn't. I hope that none of you are offended or hurt by this:( to make up for it, I teased the heck out of Cari, XD Though, if anyone has a problem, do let me know, and I'll fix it promptly, because I don't want any hurt feelings:)
Also, the reason for the lack of names when it comes to the PC's is that I wanted them to seem 'less important' than Mairee. I hope it's funny! I hope you enjoy the insanity!
A few hours later, Mairee awoke to the sound of hushed whispers.
"She's so beautiful when she's sleeping."
"She looks like an angel."
"Hey, I was gonna say that!"
"Too bad, I said it first."
"Hark, she stirs!"
"Hells, elf, where do you come up with that shi-"
"Unngh, my head," Mairee groaned, pressing a delicate hand to her forehead, "What happened?"
"My lady," Casavir said, bowing, "You swooned under the strain of our excessive manliness and you hit your head on the way down."
"And then you faceplanted onto the floor," Bishop said, "And broke your nose. It wasn't pretty. But luckily, Blacklake has a team of specialists who came in and mended your nose so it looks even more perfect than before!"
"It was perfect before," Sand snapped, "It didn't need to be fixed-"
"Oh, shut up, elf-"
"Please, don't fight," Mairee murmured sleepily, her voice the sound of tinkling bells, "I don't want you to fight over me."
"Fine," Bishop growled, "Then we shall settle this like men. With a round of rock, paper, scissors-"
"Not manly enough!" the narrator bellowed, "Try again!"
"I mean, uh, a duel to the death!"
"No!" Mairee cried, clutching the blanket to her chest and holding her flawless hand out in protest, "Please, I beg of you, don't fight-"
"But we will fight for you!" Casavir cried, "I see the way your delicate bosom heaves with your breaths, my beautiful lady. I see the way your full lips pout! I see the way your naked skin glows in the torchlight, which is strange, because you're covered by a blanket-"
(Wait a minute; wasn't she clothed when she got into bed? What the heck kind of story is this?)
"You are unworthy of such a woman," Ammon declared, "She deserves a man with power, with passion. I will fight for her!"
"The Hells you will, warlock!" Bishop snarled, "I will fight for her beauty and her love! Even though I'm a bloody commitment-phobe, her womanly wiles have stirred feelings of love and fidelity within me that I didn't know I had! I now suddenly want to marry her, settle down and have a family with 2.5 children, a dog and a white-picket fence-"
"Please, ranger, the best you could offer her is a smelly cabin in the woods," Sand scoffed, "I can offer Mairee a secure life as my companion and wife! I'm four hundred years old for Mystra's sake! I should know something about being in a relationship-"
Everyone yelped as the door burst open and a group of women stormed inside. (Well, Mairee didn't yelp so much as 'cry heroically in surprise.') At the front of the band stood a brown-eyed, ginger-haired bard, wearing a belt that held a mishmash of supplies. To her right stood a woman with black hair and bright green eyes that glittered with a barely-contained insanity. The comely white-haired woman behind her eyed her warily, keeping one hand on her rapier. A pretty sun elf with emerald-green eyes, a tall, raven-haired rogue with a bow on her back, and a red-haired halfling with a deadly-looking whip rounded out the rest.
"Who in the Hells are you?" Ammon blurted out, startled, "And what are you doing here?"
"We're the Anti-Sues," the ginger-haired bard explained, "And we're here to stop this craziness. We're well-developed, well-balanced characters, with triumphs and flaws that make us unique."
"That's right," the woman with the short, snow-white hair agreed, "While we're not perfect-"
"She's breathtakingly beautiful!" Mairee whined, pointing at the woman with the green eyes who was cleaning her fingernails with a dagger, "That's not fair!"
"But I'm a psychopath," she said quietly, grinning wildly and winking, "So it balances out."
"As I was saying," the white-haired woman continued, "We're normal characters in our own right."
"But that also means you're ordinary," Mairee said scornfully, her hair shining as if a thousand angels had brushed it, "There's nothing special about you."
"It does mean we're special!" the red-haired halfling said defiantly, "We're believable and fascinating and-"
"Boring," Mairee said pompously, her skin shining with an ethereal, dewy glow other women had to use makeup in order to obtain, "Absolutely boring. Who wants to hear about normal women? When there are women like me around?"
"At least our names are normal," the sun elf muttered under her breath, "Not this forty-syllable abomination with apostrophes and dashes that takes forever to read and even longer to write."
"You men like normal women," the tall, fair woman with jet-black hair said, "Right?"
"Of course not," Sand scoffed, "What good are normal women when we have a goddess in our midst? Right, men?"
Casavir and Ammon nodded in agreement, but Bishop was silent, staring at the woman still picking at her fingernails with the dagger. "Right, Bishop?"
"Right," Bishop said absentmindedly, "Hey, don't I know you? Haven't I slept with you in another story?"
"You and half the Sword Coast, honey," the woman smirked, sheathing her dagger, "So you may have to narrow it down. But enough of this! We Anti-Sues are sick and tired of being ignored in the face of, well, disgusting perfection! Ladies, draw your swords! We will settle this in battle!"
"Hey, wait a moment," the ginger-haired bard said quickly, "I thought we agreed on no bloodshed?"
Tears welled in the other woman's eyes.
"You mean… you mean no stabby-stab?"
"No stabby stab."
The green-eyed woman stomped off and dropped down into a nearby chair, pouting. The sun elf standing nearby shook her head.
"You scare me."
"Enough of this foolishness!" Casavir cried, "I will not allow you to harm this beautiful woman! We shall fight you if necessary, but I would prefer to settle this peacefully. Understood? Are there any questions?"
"I have one," Sand quipped, "Why isn't the ranger wearing pants?"
Everyone looked down, and sure enough, Bishop was standing there in nothing but his boxers.
"What?" he snapped, looking skyward, "I'm not allowed pants now?"
"No! You cannot be clothed around her! She is far too beautiful for you to resist!"
"Are you going to take my underwear now too?"
Bishop barely had enough time to grab a book and hold it in front of himself as his underwear vanished too. He scowled as the other women giggled.
"Small book," the halfling whispered, waggling her eyebrows and grinning, drawing more giggles from the other women. After a moment, the white-haired woman cleared her throat, her face slightly pink from laughing.
"All right," she said, "No violence then. But we can't just sit around and let Mairee run free! What do you-?"
She was interrupted as the door burst open again.
"Why does nobody lock the damn door?" the narrator roared, "We'll never get to the end with all these interruptions!"
Everyone jumped as a tall, ruby-haired, exceptionally-handsome tiefling stumbled into the room, closely followed by a slightly shorter man with blue skin and bluish-gray hair.
"Sorry we're late," the tiefling gasped, panting and gulping for air, "We had to run all the way from the expansions."
"Indeed," the blue-skinned man agreed, smoothing his hair back into his usual emo-style, "I do hope we're not too late? We wished to fight for Mairee's affections as well!"
"Not at all!" Mairee said happily, smiling brightly, so brightly, that somewhere, a star was ashamed of itself, "The more the merrier! Besides, if this thing gets bloody, I need all the men I can get! But who are you?"
"I am Valen Shadowbreath," the tiefling said, bowing slightly, "You have the taint of a demoness in your veins, and it has called me here, all the way from the third expansion to the first game!"
"And I am Gannayev. Erm, Gann," he corrected, noticing the confused looks on everyone's faces, "But what's this about blood? You see, I can't risk getting my handsome face scarred in battle, so I'd rather not fight if necessary…"
"Right, we were supposed to fight!" Ammon growled, infernal energy bristling at his fingertips, "Fight for this beautiful woman and against these 'Anti-Sues!' Come now, Anti-Sues, let's see what you've got!"
"Hold on a moment!" the ginger-haired bard cried, "Group huddle!"
The other women in the room formed a tight circle and started whispering amongst themselves. The green-eyed woman popped up for a moment and shot Mairee a look of death before the rest straightened up and turned to face the men.
"We have come to an agreement," the tall, raven-haired rogue declared, "We shall leave here peacefully, and leave Mairee alone, but on one condition."
"What condition is that?" Sand said warily, "And please don't say it involves the ranger losing the book."
"That can be arranged!"
"Shut up!" Bishop bellowed, "It's drafty in here!"
"No," the white-haired woman said calmly, "Though that may work on some of us, we have different demands. We'll leave…"
"But we get him," the red-haired halfling finished, pointing at Valen. "Him, in exchange for us leaving you alone!"
"No!" Valen said defiantly, "I will never leave her side! Her demon blood draws me in. She's ensnared me, entrapped me, she-"
With an eye roll, Ammon pulled Valen aside and whispered something in his ear.
"Devil's blood?" Valen shrieked, "She's got devil blood in her?" Ammon nodded. "Well… damn. Oh well. Sorry about all this." He turned to the other women. "Anyone know where you could get a good drink around here?"
"Definitely," the green-eyed woman purred, linking her arm around his and leading him out the door, "So, tell me, what's a handsome tiefling like you doing so far from the Abyss?"
Groaning in disgust, the other women followed them out. They all hears someone mumble, "Slut," before Bishop shut the door, keeping one hand awkwardly on his book.
"Now that they've been taken care of," Casavir grumbled, "Perhaps we can get this underway? Or is there anyone else who needs to come in and interrupt us?"
Sand grabbed the script from a nearby table and quickly flipped through it.
"Well, according to this, she's got some dwarf blood in her too," Sand said, shrugging, "Perhaps Khelgar would want to be part of this challenge as well."
"Isaid," Sand shouted, waving the script in the air, "Perhaps Khelgar would want to be part of this challenge as well!"
"Damn it all!" Bishop griped, "Where's Khelgar?"
"I don't know," Casavir shrugged, "We fast-traveled from Skymirror back to Neverwinter and he suddenly disappeared. Haven't seen him since."
"Damn it!" Bishop yelled, "Who transitioned with their familiar or companion summoned? You all know about the glitch! It's been around since 1.10!"
"We don't need the dwarf," Ammon growled, "Let us settle this now. Let Mairee choose."
"Indeed," Casavir nodded, puffing out his chest, "Let the lady choose who she would like, and the losers will just have to deal."
Mairee clapped her hands excitedly, her full, voluptuous breasts bouncing up and down with a perkiness only youth can bring – lucky bitch. This was almost as fun as the time she had found her Oscar de la Renta "Tulle" dress on sale. She gazed at her suitors, checking height, weight, overall appearance, obedience-
"This isn't a dog show!"
Attractiveness and personality-
"This isn't Miss America either!"
All right, hotness, is that better?
Thank you. Mairee pointed at each man, eliminating them as she saw fit.
"Too angsty… too sarcastic… too smurfy…"
"You!" she cried, leaping from her bed, "I choose you! You're tall, dark, and mysterious, with beautifully-crafted features! You're strong and silent and powerful and perfect for me!"
And with that, Mairee bounded off happily into the sunset, exquisite hair rippling in the golden light and arm-in-arm with her beau.
Those left behind stood in stunned silence until Bishop's book falling to the floor shook them from their reverie. As he scrambled to cover himself again, the others wondered why she had chosen who she had.
After a long while, Sand cleared his throat.
"So… who wants to tell her that she ran off with the Construct?"