Post by motleycrue on Nov 21, 2008 11:53:08 GMT -5
A/N: A pardoy fic, I guess, which has been a long time in the planning. I was looking through my documents tonight - deleting anything that needed deleted and moving my essays into seperate folders; you know, the usual, when I came across this fic and decided to finished it off. So here we go, the finished work. I would like to stress that I'm not making fun of any writer, I'm more making fun of wwry sues (they exist ... sadly ... ) that I've come across in my time as a fic writer for this fandom. So review please, concrit appericated. Enjoy the fic. Also posted on my ff.net account
Rebel Yell
It was a well known, yet somehow still unknown, fact that fictional character who are not currently being used reside in what is effectively white space. However, unlike what the name suggests, these spaces are not simply white, in fact, they tend to resemble an area where the fictional characters will be most comfortable. For characters who were members of the We Will Rock You fandom, this white space took on two forms: the clean, bright, and almost blindingly white GaGa Land, and the decidedly more colourful Heartbreak Hotel. Since We Will Rock You was one of a certain amount of fandoms who originated from a stage show, the names of certain characters, as well as their appearances and accents often changed. To counteract this, in the white space, all character automatically returned to what was termed as the original cast, as it was largely agreed that since this was the original, they might as well assume that this was the way the show’s writer had pictured them. For We Will Rock You characters, this meant they returned to the appearances, names, and accents they had with the original London cast.
The Bohemians, having finished with any fan works for the day, returned to the Heartbreak in reasonably good moods. They were, as other fandoms often remarked, largely quite lucky, as the fans seemed to respect the way that their world was set up. However, there was that odd time when things did not exactly go the way that the characters would have expected.
“All I’m sayin’ is that there’s no way ‘e’s that fertile,” Scaramouche laughed, though a scowl sat firmly on her face. “So what I wanna know is, why am I always bleedin’ pregnant?” Meat laughed loudly, leaning against the equally amused Britney Spears. Brit was one of the few who never seemed to leave the white space, his character dying during the play limited the amount of appearances he could make in any fan works.
“It’s a romance thing,” he nodded wisely, waving his hand in a vague manner. “The fans like the idea of you plus Gazza equalling true love forever baby,” he explain, adding a shrug to the end of his sentence. He didn’t quite understand how the minds of the fans worked, but he suspected that no character really knew how their fans worked.
“But pregnant every damn time,” she groaned, leaning forwards and holding her head in her hands in frustration. Meat leaned forward, patting her on the back.
“Don’t worry luv, they’ll grow out of it, they always do,” she reassured her. Scara sighed, knowing that Meat was correct. It seemed like when every We Will Rock You fic writer was starting out, they made her pregnant, but they tended to get over it quickly, and the majority evolved into writing more well thought out pieces; some more interested in character back stories; while some came up with their own unique spins on the traditional fic cliché. There had even been a few who had attempted to create their own fan characters, a few of which hung out with the rest of the characters in the white space.
Galileo came through the doors into the Heartbreak themed white space, with a small grin on his face. “Bumped into Roger from the RENT fandom,” he gave as an answer to the unasked question about his late arrival. “There’s rumours going round of a RENT/We Will Rock You crossover and he was wondering if we’d heard anything, I told him no,” he added, shrugging and sitting down beside Scaramouche.
“Always seems to be crossover rumours floatin’ round,” Meat said with a shrug. The other three considered this for a moment before nodding in agreement. They then lapsed back into silence, tired from the work they had put in taking part in the different fics out there. Galileo looked around the room in confusion, opening his mouth.
“Hey where’s … ” he began, but found himself interrupted by the arrival of … of … well he wasn’t quite sure who, or even what it was. She, because Galileo was pretty sure it was a she, had thick braided hair, blonde and purple, managing to look like a cross between Scaramouche’s and Meat Loaf’s style. She wore a thick black corset, decorated with red lacing and lace at the bust, with red and black stripy arm warmers. With this she also had neon coloured fishnets under stylishly ripped tartan shorts, which had many chains hanging from them, as well as three thick studded belts. On her feet she wore one bright green boot and the other bright pink. She had oversized flicks at her eyes, slowly edging their way nearer to her hairline and bight pink lipstick, the exact same shade of pink as the boot. To finish off the look she wore a studded dog collar.
“Who the ‘ell are you?” Scaramouche asked, looking at the new arrival, a look of suspicion on her face. The girl turned and smiled at Scaramouche, revealing straight white teeth, and gave a musical laugh.
“Oh, don’t be silly Scaramouche, as if you couldn’t recognise your own twin sister,” she said, still smiling that all too perfect smile. Scaramouche blinked, exchanging a look with Meat, conveying a secret message in that language that was known to only girls.
“I don’t have a sister,” Scaramouche said, turning back to look at the new comer, her suspicion growing. Brit leaned forward, studying the girl carefully.
“Who are you really?” he asked, causing the girl’s shoulder to slump in a prettily perfect manner, her full yet thin lips pursed together in a perfect pout.
“I can’t believe none of you remember me,” she whined perfectly. “It’s me, Magnifico, you call me Fi for short?” Off their blank looks, Magnifico added, “You know, Scaramouche’s sister? I was horribly abused as a child and suffered the worst bullying any child could receive at the hands of the GaGa clones because I have one blue eye and one green eye. I mean, the bullying I went through, even Galileo agrees it was worst than anything he received.” There was still no response, causing Fi to stamp her foot in a pretty manner, making her seem more adorable. “I was with you at the very beginning, in the hospital with you. I escaped with you two, and then you Galileo, gave me and Scaramouche our new names. You said Magnifico suited me because you had never met anyone more magnificent! Then we were found by Meat and Brit and they believed me automatically when I told them you had dreamed the words, and took us to the Heartbreak without question. When we were attacked that night you dragged myself and my sister to safety Galileo, declaring your love for me at the van, and I for you,” she said, smiling in a dreamy manner towards Galileo, who shifted slightly in his seat, feeling uncomfortable. “Scaramouche was insanely jealous of course, but she realised that she couldn’t stand in the way of true love. Then, I had a dream telling me where the guitar was, don’t you remember? We went straight to Wembley while my sister went to the Seven Seas to help the brainwashed Bohemians. I found the instruments and discovered I could play them all as well as sing, but I like listening to you Galileo so I let you sing in our band,” she added in a kind tone, as though she were doing him a great service. “When Killer Queen showed up I held a impromptu therapy session and convinced her to just let us play. And now we’re the biggest band in the world, with myself as the lead guitarist and stylist for the whole group, as well as training Khashoggi up to be a proper Chief of Police,” she finished in a rush. “Why can’t any of you remember that?”
Galileo gave out an incredulous laugh, unable to believe what he had just heard, but was slightly surprised to hear no other expressions of disbelief. He looked around himself to see Scaramouche, Meat and Brit sitting up straighter, smiling at Magnifico as if they had known her their whole lives. “’Course I know you sis,” Scaramouche grinned, “can’t ya take a joke?” she added, laughing slightly. Magnifico gave a sigh, letting out another musical laugh, and sitting down in the small space between Galileo and Scaramouche, cuddling up to the former, and making him feel decidedly more uncomfortable.
“Dreamer? You feelin’ alright?” Meat asked, looking up and frowning on seeing the pair. “Normally it takes a crowbar to separate you and Fi, you can’t keep your hands off each other,” she said, still frowning in confusion. “So what gives?” Scaramouche and Brit also looked over, their own confusion showing on their faces. Galileo looked between Meat and Magnifico, his mouth opening and closing a few times.
“’E’s speechless again,” Scaramouche laughed.
“Ah, but that’s a occupational hazard from dating Fi,” Brit grinned. Galileo blinked once again, surprised with the way his friends, not to mention his actual girlfriend, were reacting to this new presence in their life.
“Well,” giggled Magnifico, wrinkling her nose in a cute manner, “I don’t like to brag, but I am simply stunning.” The group, excluding Galileo, all laughed at this, with the Dreamer instead blinking, his mouth opening and closing once more, unable to settle on what it was exactly that he wanted to say. Finally, he managed to.
“Is everybody here but me very, very stoned?!” he asked, looking round with group with his eyes wide.
“Honey?” Magnifico asked, resting her small hand on his chest. “What’s the matter?”
“You!” he cried, jumping up out of his seat and moving away from her. “I’m not your ‘honey’. I don’t even know you!” he added, staring at her in confusion. Magnifico’s face fell back into the sad look it had worn not ten minutes before. “You’re not even my girlfriend, Scaramouche is! AND she’s the guitar player!” he said, moving a step backwards. Meat glared accusations at Scaramouche, and Brit moved threateningly towards Galileo, but Scaramouche got their first.
“What the hell are you on Fizza!?” Scaramouche spat at him. “There is not way I’d ever shag you, let alone date ya,” she added, glaring so viciously at him that he could swear he could hear his heart breaking. “So cut the crap and apologise to my sister,” she said. “Now,” she added in a growl.
“No, no, Scaramouche,” Magnifico breathed lightly. “It’s okay,” she said, nodding slightly. “Obviously Galileo is simply becoming confused by his dreams. You know how they like to play tricks on his mind, making him think one thing instead of paying attention to the reality of the world.”
“But, as I am sure you are perfectly well aware of Miss Magnifico,” a smooth baritone voice spoke, drawing the attention of all in the room, “that the Dreamer is the only one aware of the reality, and that everyone else is simply dreaming,” Khashoggi finished with a collected half smile.
“Not to mention,” Pop said, moving into view, “it’s obvious to anyone who pays attention that you, Astral Downer, are just a badly thought out fan character who is like, sucking away all the good karma man.” he said, his eyes bugging out. Magnifico’s eyes narrowed, a dark glimmer crossing over them before she widened them, attempting to appear as innocent as possible.
“Why whatever do you mean?” she asked in a cutesy voice, gaining a snort of disgust from Galileo and Khashoggi, and a simple rolling of the eyes from Pop.
“Listen, Miss Magnifico, it is obvious you expected your, oh let’s call them powers, to work on everyone,” Khashoggi sighed, removing his sunglasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Thankfully I was spared as it is the general opinion of the majority of We Will Rock You fans, especially those who write fan fiction it appears, that I am ‘awesome.’ And it is simply not done for ‘awesome’ characters to fall under the influence of what it clearly a Mary Sue character,” he explained. “As for … Pop,” he always seemed to stumble over Pop’s name, “and the Dreamer … ” he added, trailing off to let each explain.
“Well,” Pop began, “I was spared ‘cause I’m old, apparently, which is like, a really negative way to be if you ask me,” he sniffed.
“What about me?” Galileo asked, moving back out of Magnifico’s grasp, as she attempted to grab on to him once more. Khashoggi sighed, as did Pop.
“Kid, if it was that easy to brainwash you, then the dream would have been lost generations before this lot began havin’ it,” Pop said, in a rather soft tone of voice. Galileo nodded, understanding. Khashoggi coughed slightly, drawing his attention.
“If you don’t mind, Galileo, I happen to know the correct way of dealing with a Mary Sue,” he said, causing Magnifico’s eyes to bug out in worry.
“Galileo! Baby! You can’t let them do this to me,” she shrieked, her voice reaching a high pitched note Galileo had previously believed impossible to reach through any natural means.
“Oh yes he can,” Khashoggi answered for Galileo, a dangerous glint in his eyes and a smirk on his face while he spoke to Magnifico. “And he most certainly will. Now, Pop, if you please,” he said, gesturing for Pop to move forward, which he did.
“Oh I do please,” Pop grinned, handing over a book to Magnifico who stared at it as if she had never seen such a thing in her life.
“And what is this?” she demanded, attempting to look authoritative in front of Pop and Khashoggi, but failing miserably.
“This, Bad Vibes Chick, is the original script for the rock theatrical, We Will Rock You,” Pop said, a smile on his face. “What we might call … the canon source!” he declared. The book dropped to the floor, as Magnifico’s hands flew to her chest, clutching at it as though she were deeply in pain. “Hey! Pig! It’s working!” Pop said happily on seeing the effect.
“Indeed,” Khashoggi added dryly. “All that is needed now is to provide her with canon evidence, destroying her greatest delusion,” he said, turning to look at Galileo. “And I do believe that you know the perfect manner in which to present this canon evidence, Dreamer,” he said, sounding slightly amused. Galileo, for his part, frowned slightly, his mind racing, trying to work out exactly what it was that Khashoggi meant, before his eyes widened in understanding. He turned to face Scaramouche, who was still glaring at him.
“Slap me for this later,” he advised her, before bending his head and kissing her. He was rather pleased to notice that she didn’t throw him off her, but instead kissed back, her arms wrapping around his neck, as his wrapped themselves around her waist, pulling her close. He was dimly aware of a shriek, and a flash of glitter, but chose to ignore these, enjoying what he was doing. Eventually, when the need for air became apparent he pulled back, to find Meat and Brit exchanging the usual looks they wore when he and Scaramouche kissed. Speaking of Scaramouche …
“No idea what tha’ was for, but you wanna repeat it go ahead,” she grinned widely, dropping a soft kiss on his mouth, “Shagileo Gigolo,” she finished, grinning slyly. She turned around, returning to her seat, and found herself being immediately drawn into a conversation with Meat and Brit. Galileo turned, looking at Khashoggi and Pop for an explanation.
“It’s the effect of a Mary Sue, Dreamer,” Khashoggi gave a small shrug. “If the exposure is minimal, then the canon characters who were affected will remember nothing of the unfortunate experience they went through.”
“Just a bit of a karamatic downer for those who are immune really,” Pop admitted, with a somewhat sad side grin. Galileo turned to look at his friends, somehow knowing that if he was to tell them he would be meet with disbelieving jeers and laughter.
“Maybe it’s better this way,” he said eventually.
“How so?” Khashoggi asked.
“The fan characters that we remember are the ones who’ve made it to a level of acceptance right?” he checked, nodding himself when Khashoggi gave him a nod in confirmation. “And we become attached to the good ones, the ones who don’t screw us around. If we were to remember the bad ones, we’d lose our friends, and I don’t think that’s something any of us want.”
“Deep,” Pop nodded.
“And anyway,” Galileo continued, “it’s not like we’re stuck with writers who don’t try to improve on their writing,” he pointed out. “Why should we worry? Why should we care?” he gave a soft laugh, “We may not have a dime, but we got a mostly Sue free fandom, and to be that lucky … I think I’m happy with that, aren’t you?” he asked, grinning.
“You’re wiser that we give you credit for Dreamer,” Khashoggi commented lightly, Pop nodding in agreement. Galileo grinned once more.
“We’ve got a good fandom guys, I don’t want it wrecked,” he said with a shrug, “As far as most of our fic writers go … we’re in safe hands.”
“Oi! You lot comin’ to get a drink or what?” Meat called over to the three, giving them a grin.
“Sure we are,” Galileo called back. “Your turn to get a round,” he added with his own grin, moving over to join his friends, and planning to enjoy the rest of the night as it came. They may not be RENT, and they certainly weren’t Legally Blonde, but they were We Will Rock You, and they did what the promised. They rocked.
So why should the fans wanna change that?
Rebel Yell
It was a well known, yet somehow still unknown, fact that fictional character who are not currently being used reside in what is effectively white space. However, unlike what the name suggests, these spaces are not simply white, in fact, they tend to resemble an area where the fictional characters will be most comfortable. For characters who were members of the We Will Rock You fandom, this white space took on two forms: the clean, bright, and almost blindingly white GaGa Land, and the decidedly more colourful Heartbreak Hotel. Since We Will Rock You was one of a certain amount of fandoms who originated from a stage show, the names of certain characters, as well as their appearances and accents often changed. To counteract this, in the white space, all character automatically returned to what was termed as the original cast, as it was largely agreed that since this was the original, they might as well assume that this was the way the show’s writer had pictured them. For We Will Rock You characters, this meant they returned to the appearances, names, and accents they had with the original London cast.
The Bohemians, having finished with any fan works for the day, returned to the Heartbreak in reasonably good moods. They were, as other fandoms often remarked, largely quite lucky, as the fans seemed to respect the way that their world was set up. However, there was that odd time when things did not exactly go the way that the characters would have expected.
“All I’m sayin’ is that there’s no way ‘e’s that fertile,” Scaramouche laughed, though a scowl sat firmly on her face. “So what I wanna know is, why am I always bleedin’ pregnant?” Meat laughed loudly, leaning against the equally amused Britney Spears. Brit was one of the few who never seemed to leave the white space, his character dying during the play limited the amount of appearances he could make in any fan works.
“It’s a romance thing,” he nodded wisely, waving his hand in a vague manner. “The fans like the idea of you plus Gazza equalling true love forever baby,” he explain, adding a shrug to the end of his sentence. He didn’t quite understand how the minds of the fans worked, but he suspected that no character really knew how their fans worked.
“But pregnant every damn time,” she groaned, leaning forwards and holding her head in her hands in frustration. Meat leaned forward, patting her on the back.
“Don’t worry luv, they’ll grow out of it, they always do,” she reassured her. Scara sighed, knowing that Meat was correct. It seemed like when every We Will Rock You fic writer was starting out, they made her pregnant, but they tended to get over it quickly, and the majority evolved into writing more well thought out pieces; some more interested in character back stories; while some came up with their own unique spins on the traditional fic cliché. There had even been a few who had attempted to create their own fan characters, a few of which hung out with the rest of the characters in the white space.
Galileo came through the doors into the Heartbreak themed white space, with a small grin on his face. “Bumped into Roger from the RENT fandom,” he gave as an answer to the unasked question about his late arrival. “There’s rumours going round of a RENT/We Will Rock You crossover and he was wondering if we’d heard anything, I told him no,” he added, shrugging and sitting down beside Scaramouche.
“Always seems to be crossover rumours floatin’ round,” Meat said with a shrug. The other three considered this for a moment before nodding in agreement. They then lapsed back into silence, tired from the work they had put in taking part in the different fics out there. Galileo looked around the room in confusion, opening his mouth.
“Hey where’s … ” he began, but found himself interrupted by the arrival of … of … well he wasn’t quite sure who, or even what it was. She, because Galileo was pretty sure it was a she, had thick braided hair, blonde and purple, managing to look like a cross between Scaramouche’s and Meat Loaf’s style. She wore a thick black corset, decorated with red lacing and lace at the bust, with red and black stripy arm warmers. With this she also had neon coloured fishnets under stylishly ripped tartan shorts, which had many chains hanging from them, as well as three thick studded belts. On her feet she wore one bright green boot and the other bright pink. She had oversized flicks at her eyes, slowly edging their way nearer to her hairline and bight pink lipstick, the exact same shade of pink as the boot. To finish off the look she wore a studded dog collar.
“Who the ‘ell are you?” Scaramouche asked, looking at the new arrival, a look of suspicion on her face. The girl turned and smiled at Scaramouche, revealing straight white teeth, and gave a musical laugh.
“Oh, don’t be silly Scaramouche, as if you couldn’t recognise your own twin sister,” she said, still smiling that all too perfect smile. Scaramouche blinked, exchanging a look with Meat, conveying a secret message in that language that was known to only girls.
“I don’t have a sister,” Scaramouche said, turning back to look at the new comer, her suspicion growing. Brit leaned forward, studying the girl carefully.
“Who are you really?” he asked, causing the girl’s shoulder to slump in a prettily perfect manner, her full yet thin lips pursed together in a perfect pout.
“I can’t believe none of you remember me,” she whined perfectly. “It’s me, Magnifico, you call me Fi for short?” Off their blank looks, Magnifico added, “You know, Scaramouche’s sister? I was horribly abused as a child and suffered the worst bullying any child could receive at the hands of the GaGa clones because I have one blue eye and one green eye. I mean, the bullying I went through, even Galileo agrees it was worst than anything he received.” There was still no response, causing Fi to stamp her foot in a pretty manner, making her seem more adorable. “I was with you at the very beginning, in the hospital with you. I escaped with you two, and then you Galileo, gave me and Scaramouche our new names. You said Magnifico suited me because you had never met anyone more magnificent! Then we were found by Meat and Brit and they believed me automatically when I told them you had dreamed the words, and took us to the Heartbreak without question. When we were attacked that night you dragged myself and my sister to safety Galileo, declaring your love for me at the van, and I for you,” she said, smiling in a dreamy manner towards Galileo, who shifted slightly in his seat, feeling uncomfortable. “Scaramouche was insanely jealous of course, but she realised that she couldn’t stand in the way of true love. Then, I had a dream telling me where the guitar was, don’t you remember? We went straight to Wembley while my sister went to the Seven Seas to help the brainwashed Bohemians. I found the instruments and discovered I could play them all as well as sing, but I like listening to you Galileo so I let you sing in our band,” she added in a kind tone, as though she were doing him a great service. “When Killer Queen showed up I held a impromptu therapy session and convinced her to just let us play. And now we’re the biggest band in the world, with myself as the lead guitarist and stylist for the whole group, as well as training Khashoggi up to be a proper Chief of Police,” she finished in a rush. “Why can’t any of you remember that?”
Galileo gave out an incredulous laugh, unable to believe what he had just heard, but was slightly surprised to hear no other expressions of disbelief. He looked around himself to see Scaramouche, Meat and Brit sitting up straighter, smiling at Magnifico as if they had known her their whole lives. “’Course I know you sis,” Scaramouche grinned, “can’t ya take a joke?” she added, laughing slightly. Magnifico gave a sigh, letting out another musical laugh, and sitting down in the small space between Galileo and Scaramouche, cuddling up to the former, and making him feel decidedly more uncomfortable.
“Dreamer? You feelin’ alright?” Meat asked, looking up and frowning on seeing the pair. “Normally it takes a crowbar to separate you and Fi, you can’t keep your hands off each other,” she said, still frowning in confusion. “So what gives?” Scaramouche and Brit also looked over, their own confusion showing on their faces. Galileo looked between Meat and Magnifico, his mouth opening and closing a few times.
“’E’s speechless again,” Scaramouche laughed.
“Ah, but that’s a occupational hazard from dating Fi,” Brit grinned. Galileo blinked once again, surprised with the way his friends, not to mention his actual girlfriend, were reacting to this new presence in their life.
“Well,” giggled Magnifico, wrinkling her nose in a cute manner, “I don’t like to brag, but I am simply stunning.” The group, excluding Galileo, all laughed at this, with the Dreamer instead blinking, his mouth opening and closing once more, unable to settle on what it was exactly that he wanted to say. Finally, he managed to.
“Is everybody here but me very, very stoned?!” he asked, looking round with group with his eyes wide.
“Honey?” Magnifico asked, resting her small hand on his chest. “What’s the matter?”
“You!” he cried, jumping up out of his seat and moving away from her. “I’m not your ‘honey’. I don’t even know you!” he added, staring at her in confusion. Magnifico’s face fell back into the sad look it had worn not ten minutes before. “You’re not even my girlfriend, Scaramouche is! AND she’s the guitar player!” he said, moving a step backwards. Meat glared accusations at Scaramouche, and Brit moved threateningly towards Galileo, but Scaramouche got their first.
“What the hell are you on Fizza!?” Scaramouche spat at him. “There is not way I’d ever shag you, let alone date ya,” she added, glaring so viciously at him that he could swear he could hear his heart breaking. “So cut the crap and apologise to my sister,” she said. “Now,” she added in a growl.
“No, no, Scaramouche,” Magnifico breathed lightly. “It’s okay,” she said, nodding slightly. “Obviously Galileo is simply becoming confused by his dreams. You know how they like to play tricks on his mind, making him think one thing instead of paying attention to the reality of the world.”
“But, as I am sure you are perfectly well aware of Miss Magnifico,” a smooth baritone voice spoke, drawing the attention of all in the room, “that the Dreamer is the only one aware of the reality, and that everyone else is simply dreaming,” Khashoggi finished with a collected half smile.
“Not to mention,” Pop said, moving into view, “it’s obvious to anyone who pays attention that you, Astral Downer, are just a badly thought out fan character who is like, sucking away all the good karma man.” he said, his eyes bugging out. Magnifico’s eyes narrowed, a dark glimmer crossing over them before she widened them, attempting to appear as innocent as possible.
“Why whatever do you mean?” she asked in a cutesy voice, gaining a snort of disgust from Galileo and Khashoggi, and a simple rolling of the eyes from Pop.
“Listen, Miss Magnifico, it is obvious you expected your, oh let’s call them powers, to work on everyone,” Khashoggi sighed, removing his sunglasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Thankfully I was spared as it is the general opinion of the majority of We Will Rock You fans, especially those who write fan fiction it appears, that I am ‘awesome.’ And it is simply not done for ‘awesome’ characters to fall under the influence of what it clearly a Mary Sue character,” he explained. “As for … Pop,” he always seemed to stumble over Pop’s name, “and the Dreamer … ” he added, trailing off to let each explain.
“Well,” Pop began, “I was spared ‘cause I’m old, apparently, which is like, a really negative way to be if you ask me,” he sniffed.
“What about me?” Galileo asked, moving back out of Magnifico’s grasp, as she attempted to grab on to him once more. Khashoggi sighed, as did Pop.
“Kid, if it was that easy to brainwash you, then the dream would have been lost generations before this lot began havin’ it,” Pop said, in a rather soft tone of voice. Galileo nodded, understanding. Khashoggi coughed slightly, drawing his attention.
“If you don’t mind, Galileo, I happen to know the correct way of dealing with a Mary Sue,” he said, causing Magnifico’s eyes to bug out in worry.
“Galileo! Baby! You can’t let them do this to me,” she shrieked, her voice reaching a high pitched note Galileo had previously believed impossible to reach through any natural means.
“Oh yes he can,” Khashoggi answered for Galileo, a dangerous glint in his eyes and a smirk on his face while he spoke to Magnifico. “And he most certainly will. Now, Pop, if you please,” he said, gesturing for Pop to move forward, which he did.
“Oh I do please,” Pop grinned, handing over a book to Magnifico who stared at it as if she had never seen such a thing in her life.
“And what is this?” she demanded, attempting to look authoritative in front of Pop and Khashoggi, but failing miserably.
“This, Bad Vibes Chick, is the original script for the rock theatrical, We Will Rock You,” Pop said, a smile on his face. “What we might call … the canon source!” he declared. The book dropped to the floor, as Magnifico’s hands flew to her chest, clutching at it as though she were deeply in pain. “Hey! Pig! It’s working!” Pop said happily on seeing the effect.
“Indeed,” Khashoggi added dryly. “All that is needed now is to provide her with canon evidence, destroying her greatest delusion,” he said, turning to look at Galileo. “And I do believe that you know the perfect manner in which to present this canon evidence, Dreamer,” he said, sounding slightly amused. Galileo, for his part, frowned slightly, his mind racing, trying to work out exactly what it was that Khashoggi meant, before his eyes widened in understanding. He turned to face Scaramouche, who was still glaring at him.
“Slap me for this later,” he advised her, before bending his head and kissing her. He was rather pleased to notice that she didn’t throw him off her, but instead kissed back, her arms wrapping around his neck, as his wrapped themselves around her waist, pulling her close. He was dimly aware of a shriek, and a flash of glitter, but chose to ignore these, enjoying what he was doing. Eventually, when the need for air became apparent he pulled back, to find Meat and Brit exchanging the usual looks they wore when he and Scaramouche kissed. Speaking of Scaramouche …
“No idea what tha’ was for, but you wanna repeat it go ahead,” she grinned widely, dropping a soft kiss on his mouth, “Shagileo Gigolo,” she finished, grinning slyly. She turned around, returning to her seat, and found herself being immediately drawn into a conversation with Meat and Brit. Galileo turned, looking at Khashoggi and Pop for an explanation.
“It’s the effect of a Mary Sue, Dreamer,” Khashoggi gave a small shrug. “If the exposure is minimal, then the canon characters who were affected will remember nothing of the unfortunate experience they went through.”
“Just a bit of a karamatic downer for those who are immune really,” Pop admitted, with a somewhat sad side grin. Galileo turned to look at his friends, somehow knowing that if he was to tell them he would be meet with disbelieving jeers and laughter.
“Maybe it’s better this way,” he said eventually.
“How so?” Khashoggi asked.
“The fan characters that we remember are the ones who’ve made it to a level of acceptance right?” he checked, nodding himself when Khashoggi gave him a nod in confirmation. “And we become attached to the good ones, the ones who don’t screw us around. If we were to remember the bad ones, we’d lose our friends, and I don’t think that’s something any of us want.”
“Deep,” Pop nodded.
“And anyway,” Galileo continued, “it’s not like we’re stuck with writers who don’t try to improve on their writing,” he pointed out. “Why should we worry? Why should we care?” he gave a soft laugh, “We may not have a dime, but we got a mostly Sue free fandom, and to be that lucky … I think I’m happy with that, aren’t you?” he asked, grinning.
“You’re wiser that we give you credit for Dreamer,” Khashoggi commented lightly, Pop nodding in agreement. Galileo grinned once more.
“We’ve got a good fandom guys, I don’t want it wrecked,” he said with a shrug, “As far as most of our fic writers go … we’re in safe hands.”
“Oi! You lot comin’ to get a drink or what?” Meat called over to the three, giving them a grin.
“Sure we are,” Galileo called back. “Your turn to get a round,” he added with his own grin, moving over to join his friends, and planning to enjoy the rest of the night as it came. They may not be RENT, and they certainly weren’t Legally Blonde, but they were We Will Rock You, and they did what the promised. They rocked.
So why should the fans wanna change that?