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A GW fan fic: Heroes
Author's notes: Expect a whole lot of idiocy, plotless, random ramblings and general aimless insanity. Oh yeah, this is a self-insert. Still here? How nice =)
I may drop hints and tidbits of things to come in the fics-in-progress I'm working on ^_^; Stuff from Tevel, Wherever the Wind Blows and so on Favourite original characters may wander in from time to time as well. So, keep your eyes open =)
Sit back, strap in and enjoy.
In the beginning, there was nothing. Then came along a sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy fic-writer, plagued by The-Muse-Who-Delivers-Ideas-To-Be-Written-Right-NOW. She created a world where fantasy ruled supreme and was populated by nice-but-idiotic-people-who-required-saving-thrice-a-day-preferably-after-mealtimes. For no other reason than that it pleased her, the sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy fic-writer named her creation Illuminariati. And she was pleased. Yet, there was something missing.
The-Muse-Who-Delivers-Ideas-To-Be-Written-Right-NOW bonked the sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy fic-writer on the head and said, "You forgot the heroes, idiot."
"Owww, you didn't need to hit so hard," whined the sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy fic-writer. "I was just coming to that."
Far, far away in a happy place called the GWing universe, a certain blonde pilot and his silent boyfriend were enjoying a sappy moment. Then a Great, Big Hand appeared and nabbed them both and dragged them off to Illuminariati, incidentally ruining their moment.
The sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy fic-writer handed Quatre a Big Book of Spells and Trowa a Very Sharp Sword. And she said, "Go kill the Big Bad Dragon who's been terrorizing the nice-but-idiotic-people-who-require-saving-thrice-a-day-preferably-after-mealtimes."
And The-Muse-Who-Delivers-Ideas-To-Be-Written-Right-NOW was pleased.
The two newly-appointed heroes sweatdropped. Quatre asked tentatively, "Excuse me, Miss ?"
"What?!" snapped the sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy-and-getting-grouchier-by-the-minute fic-writer. "Dragon's thataway." She waved her hand vaguely in an eastern direction. "Off you go."
Before they could speak again, Quatre and Trowa were magically whisked off to the miles-and-miles-of-desert-sands.
A Disembodied Voice spoke, "Find the silver camel and catch him with a golden bridle and he will lead you to the Big Bad Dragon."
And thus their adventure began. Since they didn't have a whole lot of options to choose from, and by experience, knew that pleasing the fic-writer would be a Good Thing(as opposed to a Bad Thing), Quatre and Trowa set off. And they walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked, but the miles-and-miles-of-desert-sands remained stubbornly endless.
*Bonk* "Itai! What now?"
"You forgot the oasis."
The-Muse-Who-Delivers-Ideas-To-Be-Written-Right-NOW smiled beatifically at the grumbling sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy fic-writer and received The Death Glare TM, conveniently borrowed from Heero. Thankfully she had the same immunity as Duo, so nothing came of it. And so the sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy fic-writer dug a hole in the middle of the miles-and-miles-of-desert-sands, filled it with water and added plastic palm trees all around.
A bit later, a very, very sandy Quatre and Trowa arrived at the oasis. Now, since they had walked and walked and walked such a long, long way they were very, very thirsty as well as very, very hot and bothered. So, they naturally took a nice, long drink from the nice, cool water and decided to go for a swim.
"Oi, time to send in the camel," said The-Muse-Who-Delivers-Ideas-To-Be-Written-Right-NOW, poking the sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy-and-dozing-off fic-writer.
The sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy fic-writer debated the wisdom of strangling her muse, but as it was the only one she had and there were readers to please, she dutifully tossed in a cute little plastic camel with two bumps on its back, a slightly deranged look in its tiny eye and a rather strange grin.
The-Muse-Who-Delivers-Ideas-To-Be-Written-Right-NOW bonked her on the head again. "That is not a silver camel!"
"Do you think silver camels are easy to find? Let the err heroes improvise." The sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy fic-writer rubbed her head and hmphed. And that was that.
By the powers that it possessed - for it was no ordinary camel - the cute little plastic camel with two bumps on its back, a slightly deranged look in its tiny eye and a rather strange grin spoke, "O humans who dare to drink my nice, cool water and swim about like gleaming fishes, I shall do Very Bad Things to you!" And it winked its tiny eye and stamped one little plastic yellow hoof. Instantly, Trowa disappeared in a flash of light and smoke. This was a most unwise thing to do as it made Quatre Very, Very Mad. So, with an 'eep' the cute little plastic camel with two bumps on its back, a slightly deranged look in its tiny eye and a rather strange grin ran away.
"GIVE BACK MY TROWA!!!"
And Quatre chased the cute little plastic camel with two bumps on its back, a slightly deranged look in its tiny eye and a rather strange grin over the sand dunes and around, up and under the trees and round and round the water. After she had observed them zipping about for a very, very long time, the sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy fic-writer decided that enough was enough and tossed an invisible boulder in the way.
After peeling the cute little plastic camel with two bumps on its back, a slightly deranged look in its tiny eye and a rather strange grin(that was decidedly flatter now) off the invisible boulder, Quatre introduced it to his own version of Very Bad Things
The sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy fic-writer made good use of her Great, Big Scissors and snipped out the following scenes of Quatre doing Very Bad Things to the cute little plastic camel with two bumps on its back, a slightly deranged look in its tiny eye and a rather strange grin in the name of good taste. Then she sat down and waited.
"Wake up, it's time to continue." The-Muse-Who-Delivers-Ideas-To-Be-Written-Right-NOW put away her mallet.
"Okay, okay "
The cute little plastic camel with two bumps on its back, a slightly deranged look in its tiny eye and a rather strange grin was decidedly contrite now and wailed, "Oh, Great One, Most Powerful Hero, spare the life of this wretched plastic animal!"
The sleep-deprived-and-therefore-grouchy fic-writer remarked thoughtfully, "But you're not alive, so you don't need to beg for your life Unless somebody decided to melt you down into a little yellow puddle."
And the cute little plastic camel with two bumps on its back, a slightly deranged look in its tiny eye and a rather strange grin wailed and begged and pleaded some more.
Getting just a wee bit uncomfortable, but with sufficient anger left over, Quatre said, "I will spare you if you tell me what you have done with Trowa."
"Oh, yes! Of course! Whatever you want!" The cute little plastic camel with two bumps on its back, a slightly deranged look in its tiny eye and a rather strange grin paused. "What's a Trowa?"
An ominous fire ignited in Quatre's eyes.
(©January 2000 by Stargem)
Let it be known that getting Quatre mad is a Very Bad Thing... ^_^