Mercuria: Well, this is a continuation of my last PPC fic, with a twist ... reading the first one is not necessary.
Notes: Agent Dee, Architeuthis, and Thalia belong to themselves. Gore Verbinski and Jerry Bruckheimer are, respectively, the director and producer of PotC. Stuart Townsend owns himself (or maybe his agents own him) but his clones are all mine.
**********
Mercuria opened the door to see a figure dressed entirely in black leather. She observed with interest that he looked surprisingly like Stuart Townsend.
"Um, hi," she said, gulping. "Are you from OFUM?"
The figure responded with a thump to Mercuria's head. She looked confused for a moment before collapsing into the Stuart Townsend look-alike's arms.
**********
It was dark. Quite dark, in fact. And very cold. Mercuria decided to roll over onto her stomach; that always made everything better.
"Wake up, Ms. Stardust."
"Mmno ... don' wanna ..."
Someone kicked her. Mercuria sat bolt upright.
"Ow! What the hell-"
"Welcome, Ms. Stardust," said a voice. Mercuria looked around. She was sitting on the cold stone floor of what appeared to be a large, dark cave. Torches sat in sconces on the walls, glowing eerily. At one end of the cave was a dais, upon which rested a high-backed wooden chair which dated back to the Edwardian era. Mercuria had been expecting a throne of some kind, and she struggled to reconcile her preconceptions with the reality that was the chair. So immersed in her mental battle was she that she failed to notice the lovely young woman who crept up to the chair and sat in it.
She did, however, notice the Stuart Townsend look-alike who was trying to blend seamlessly in the shadows beside her, but largely failing.
"Mr. Townsend!" Mercuria exclaimed. "What's going on he-"
"He is not Stuart Townsend," a female voice stated. Mercuria looked back at the chair to see the woman who had sat in it several sentences ago.
"What? Then who is he ... and who are YOU?"
The woman smiled.
"He is Stuart Townsend 186, one of one hundred and eighty-nine Stuart Townsend clones," she said. "We find him very useful for agent retrieval, among ... other things."
Mercuria's Innuendo Sensors were reeling from the rather explicit implication. She shook her head to clear it and waited for the woman to introduce herself. After a few seconds of dead silence, she said, "That's, er, nice ... but who are you?"
"I am May. May Reus," the woman replied. Then, quickly, "But I'm really not important. You must be wondering why you're here."
"More like wondering where the hell here is," Mercuria muttered.
"You have been recruited to exorcise a particularly noxious slash spirit," May said.
Mercuria blinked.
"Um, I thought I'd just been assigned to that temporary department ..." she said slowly. "Psychiatric Therapy, for traumatized characters?"
May looked grim.
"Normally, we would have left you where you were ... but the situation has become critical. We've sent agents in ... and they haven't come back."
Mercuria gasped.
"What sort of slash demon could-"
"We don't know. But we were informed that you have basic training in exorcism-"
"Jane-of-All-Trades, that's me," Mercuria muttered.
"And given your experience in many fields, we have decided to give you the task of returning the canon to normal."
Mercuria gulped. Experience did not necessarily mean skill, and she was sure she'd died twice already on missions- although, admittedly, she was quite hazy on specifics. Still, she didn't think she was up to this, really ...
"Er, what fandom?" she asked nervously.
"Pirates of the Caribbean," May replied. "A Will/Jack fic."
"Figures," Mercuria said. Although there were (fortunately) some good Will/Jack fanfics out there, there were also many that ... weren't.
"Your portal should be arriving shortly," said May solemnly. "Good luck."
Mercuria nodded, then realized with a feeling of dread that she didn't have her trusty PPC gear with her, since all of that was back in her response center.
'I AM going to die ...'
"Um, my bag is ..." Mercuria began, but trailed off as she felt Stuart Townsend 186 insistently poking her between the shoulder blades. She whirled around and saw that he was holding out her bag.
"Oh, er, thanks!" she said, grabbing it.
"Hurry up!" May urged, gesturing towards the open portal in front of her. It was shimmery, and ... pink. Actually, maybe it was purple. It was difficult to tell.
Mercuria blinked. How had that portal appeared? She hadn't seen any machinery, or even a remote control. Also, those colors were awful.
"How did you-"
"Never mind that!" May snapped. "Quickly!"
Still blinking, Mercuria hopped through the portal. It closed behind her with a resounding "schloomp."
May sat still for a minute before dissolving into giggles.
"Like, it was soooo hard to not, like, say like!" she said to Stuart Townsend 186. "But it was so, like, totally worth it!"
"I would advise my mistress not to become too confident in her position," Stuart Townsend 186 said, approaching the dais. "The PPC is known for its danger to you and your followers."
"Like, lighten up, Stuey!" May exclaimed. "This girl is, like, such an idiot! We'll have, like, no problem getting her to-"
"I would also advise my mistress against outlining her diabolical plan for the benefit of the readers."
May blinked.
"They're, like, still here?" she said. "Like, why don't you beat it? Yeah, you, sitting behind that screen! Out!"
**********
Mercuria now knew beyond a doubt why corsets had gone out of style.
Disguised as a woman of questionable virtue, Mercuria crept along the streets of Tortuga, trying to see if she could smell the ocean from where she was.
"Dammit," she growled, tugging at the dress's plunging neckline. "I wish I had a map ... and what's with this outfit, anyway?"
Although admittedly, yes, she did blend in wearing these clothes, the PPC liked to keep its agents fully dressed at all times. Or at least, if they weren't, they didn't need to hear about it thank-you-very-much.
Something was up here ... but Mercuria couldn't figure out what.
Mercuria groaned as the smell of salt and fish attacked her olfactory senses. Proving Jay's theory of Finding Stuff once again, she had reached the water without realizing it. Mercuria looked around and quickly identified the Black Pearl. Two people were stepping on board- Will and Elizabeth, she guessed from the Words.
'Thank goodness for good spelling and grammar,' Mercuria thought as she read. 'And the punctuation's good too, actually. I swear, if Will's overly feminized in this thing, I'm gonna ...'
She ran along the dock to the best of her ability- which meant she was sort of limping, then stopping, then running for two steps, and then limping again. She reached the dock quickly enough, however, and clumsily snuck onboard the Black Pearl.
'Good thing no one can see me,' Mercuria thought.
She glanced over at Will and Jack, who didn't seem to be engaging in notably OOC behavior. Mercuria observed them with interest, wishing that she had her Canon Analysis Device with her. Then she'd know for sure that she was just being too lenient with the author ...
... but Mercuria was NEVER too lenient with the author.
'Stop being silly,' she told herself as she watched the two men. 'The PPC is never wrong ... we're too careful for that.'
Mercuria knew of only one person who worked in Intelligence, Architeuthis, and she trusted Architeuthis implicitly. This strange feeling that something wasn't right was just nerves, nerves at being tossed around from one department to another- eternally lacking a partner, she might add. And the fact that the only exorcism she'd ever done had been that one special assignment with Agent Dee ... yeah, that was why she was nervous.
Mercuria looked around for Will and Jack, trying not to focus on the negative. Positively, she found the two right where she'd left them, standing on their own near the wheel.
It was time for action.
Cursing her dress, Mercuria bounded up the stairs and flung herself at Jack's knees. He went down with a crash, and Will could suddenly see a young woman binding the good captain's arms behind his back and tying them to his ankles.
"What are you doing?" Will demanded as Mercuria straightened up.
"Don't make this difficult for me," Mercuria growled. Will wasn't about to pull his sword on a woman, but he could still struggle, especially since he seemed to be in his right mind; the author had his character down.
'This is weird,' Mercuria thought as she looked for an opening to attack. 'They seem like themselves ...'
Mercuria looked through her bag for something to throw at Will, who was watching her warily. Finding nothing, she threw the bag itself at his head while diving for his ankles. She missed his ankles, but kept diving, and miraculously managed to bind him as well after a brief scuffle.
"Okay!" she cried, leaping to her feet and surveying her captives. She retrieved her bag and pulled out a pamphlet advertising Disney World.
'The closest it gets to the essence of PotC, I guess,' Mercuria thought.
"Say, love!" Jack called. He had mysteriously managed to raise himself onto his elbows, and was eyeing Mercuria curiously. "Do you mind at all telling us what you're up to? If we're not going to be going anywhere for awhile, how about fetching me some rum like a good lass?"
Mercuria's eyes widened.
'No way he's that in character ... Maybe it's a trick of some sort? That could be why so many agents haven't returned! Don't fall for it, Merc, you've got a job to do.'
Holding her pamphlet aloft, and realizing belatedly that there were no candles in sight, Mercuria cried, "Get thee behind me, slash spirits! The power of Disney compels thee!"
Will and Jack both began to shake a little, but nothing else was happening. Mercuria bit her lip. This author had a strong hold on the canon.
"I call upon the powers of Gore Verbinski and Jerry Bruckheimer! Get thee gone!"
Jack and Will shook more violently, and Mercuria saw the misty shape of the authoress forming above their bodies.
'Just one more good jolt oughta send her out of the canon,' Mercuria thought determinedly. Giving Will and Jack each a good shove to further separate them from the authoress, Mercuria shouted, "BEGONE, FOUL SPIRIT!"
Jack and Will lay still as the author departed from them completely and canon reasserted itself with a "pop."
Pop?
Mercuria was used to bangs, explosions, flashes of light. But a pop?
It only served to feed her feeling of dread. Something was terribly wrong.
Feeling suddenly very ill indeed, Mercuria turned to look at the author. Her ghostlike form was vanishing rapidly, but Mercuria could still make out her face.
'Oh no ...'
"Thalia!"
**********
May cackled diabolically as she beheld Mercuria's plight through a spiffy crystal ball she had created using her magic.
"Like, I hope you, like, took notes on that, Stuey," she told Stuart Townsend 147.
"Yes, mistress," he replied, sounding somewhat bored.
"This is, like, gonna be soooo fun!" May squealed. "The next time someone's, like, mean to me or my friends, we'll just, like, totally get rid of their fanfics!"
She giggled uncontrollably for several minutes while Stuart Townsend 147 waited.
"Very good, mistress," he said finally. "But what about the PPC agent?"
May chuckled.
"She's, like, been really helpful," she admitted, "but only because she's so stupid. Just, like, leave her there, okay? After all, she, like, loves canon soooo much."
"Yes, mistress."
**********
Mercuria was back on shore, head spinning. How had that just happened? She had been told to destroy a good fanfic- but the PPC never made mistakes! Why had she been ordered to get rid of that story?
"May," Mercuria growled. Of course ... May had been the one to send her in. SHE had put her up to this!
It all made sense now. Mercuria's random abduction, May's unexplained connection to the PPC, that hideous portal ... May wasn't really working with the PPC at all; all she had wanted was for Mercuria to destroy Thalia's fanfic.
But why?
"Wait a minute!" Mercuria said aloud, shocking several bystanders. "The only person who would want to get rid of a good fanfic must be working AGAINST the PPC. And the PPC's greatest enemy is ..."
May Reus.
Mary Sue.
"HOLY HELL, I'VE GOT TO WARN THEM!" Mercuria shrieked, digging through her bag for the remote that would take her back to PPC headquarters. After five minutes, she concluded that it was not there.
'May must have taken it!' she thought angrily. 'What am I going to do?!'
A Mary Sue was trying to use PPC techniques to manipulate the fanfic world for her own sick purposes, and the only one who knew was stuck on Tortuga with no way to get home.
And she was also dressed as a prostitute.
"This SUCKS."
**********
Mercuria: Sheesh, it's sort of angsty and not funny. But I was trying to make a point ... I think ... maybe. Anyway, I have no clue where I'm going with this! *chipper*
