(AN: Yes, I know it's been a very, very long time, but I've been in and out of the hospital a lot, and it's hard to think of funny stuff there.)
A figure lay on the floor, lost in thought.
"Am I a Mary Sue?" it wondered. "I know that I share the author's opinion that everyone in this story is a moron, so the author definitely identifies with me. I may have god-like powers, they just haven't revealed themselves to me as of yet. I certainly have a tragic past. Hey, I have a tragic present!"
Mr. Shelly once again engaged in his never-ending battle to right himself, and was once again defeated. If he could have sighed, this would have been the moment for him to do so.
"Then again, I don't think I can be a Mary Sue, because there is a reason I am called Mister Shelly. So far as I know, I am not a transvestite turtle.
Mat plopped down on the couch next to Semirhage. She looked up from her embroidery in annoyance.
"Yes?" she asked frostily.
He smiled inanely at her. Siuan and Aviendha had told him to distract her by making idle conversation, but he was starting to suspect that going along with them was an unwise decision. He thought for a moment about what words he could say in his native language. The shouting in tongues bit was getting old.
"Hi." he ventured, experimentally.
Semirhage cocked an eyebrow at the young man next to her. Was he going to start hitting on her? Hopefully not, the fools in this horrible house had tangled love lives already.
"Potatoes." Mat continued. "Glass. Fire. Toenail. Fool. I think I've mastered this!"
"Joy," Semirhage muttered dryly.
"What would you like to talk about, milady?" Mat asked, aping the courtesy he had heard was common at courts. Of course, standing up and removing one's plumed hat is acceptable, nay, expected when one is bowing to royalty in a throne room. When one is in a small, cramped room bowing to a Darkfriend and her embroidery, it at least helps to have a hat.
Normally such a display of stupidity would have irked her, but this time Semirhage smiled. "We will talk of plans. How I plan to torture you. How we plan to remove the Dragon from the lavatory. How Aviendha and Sanche plan to murder me. Talk, boy." Her eyes grew cold and wintry, and Mat felt her bony hand reach out and grab his neck. "Talk."
Nyneave chuckled, almost evilly. She had come in on Semirhage trying to strange Mat, and had been forced to hit Mat with her walking stick because of that. Wool-headed farm boys did not know how to behave in polite company, and she was sure that whatever he had done, his punishment had been no more than he'd deserved.
Semirhage had been a bit disgruntled about having what looked to be the start of a wonderful afternoon disrupted, but soon cheered up when she realized that if things got boring, she could torture Nyneave as well.
Mesaana and Demandred had appeared not ten minutes later, and the group of five sat down to plot Rand's removal from the bathroom. Mesaana suspected that she might have hit upon a viable idea, and was eager to share it with the rest of the group. This did require her going into lecturer mode, and thus the resultant paranoia that everyone was mocking her. She brushed this sad side effect aside, as this cause was worth the humiliation.
While five sat in the living room, plotting, Siuan and Aviendha were out in the yard, plotting. It was the perfect place to scheme unobserved, since the smell from the Porta Potty kept all but the most desperate away, and high weeds had sprung up almost overnight. They exchanged glances, then turned and walked away from each other, so obviously trying to be inconspicuous, that the figure watching from the bathroom window was forced to make a whole new set of conspiracy theories.
"Rand?" Demandred called through the bathroom door. "Are you still in there?"
"Of course I am, you foul little jealous piece—" Rand began.
"Yes, yes, you can drop the act. I'm sure Lews Therin suspects the truth by now."
"What?" Rand sputtered, incoherently.
"We both know that you've been working for me all along, working against Lews Therin, trying to destroy him. And now he knows as well, doesn't he?"
Five beings caught their breath and held it, hoping against hope that this would work.