In Pursuit

In Pursuit
Prologue: Damn The Writers

As he walked down the busy street, the women passed him looks of interest and he knew it. He tried as best as he could to ignore them, after all, being seventeen and looking like he was in his twenties wasn't always as good as you'd think it'd be. Now was one of those times. He brushed his hand through his natural blue-black hair, and rubbed absentmindedly at his violet eyes.

Fortunately, there were less people in the tall white building and virtually no muggles, as this place was hidden from them. It did run like a muggle building just in case one wandered in by mistake or was brought here for treatment on rare occasions. He knew all about this place, having heard about it at the last place he went to. They couldn't help him there. He moved.

He knocked sharply on the white door as heard the voices inside hush. It opened and he walked inside, seeing a group of people, mostly women, sitting in a circle. He looked around the room, and was met by all the exotic colored eyes, the most beautiful faces... He shook his head, and told himself to clear his head of such thoughts, because they were like him. They were tired of it. He sat down where he saw enough room, crossed his legs, and cleared his throats.

"Hi...I'm here for the.. the..."

"So are we. We understand," a girl next to him said gently. He knew it would feel better if he just got it out. He took a deep breath...

"I'm new here," he said quietly. " My name is Romeo. I'm seventeen and I'm a Marty Stu." Suddenly, one of the girls across from him, the quiet and mysterious looking one, with the blond hair and eyes who changed color during different emotions (now deep blue, you know who she is) burst out crying. She wiped her tearful eyes on a lace handkerchief, smearing her mascara as the girl next to her hugged her around the shoulders.

"Everyone, this is Anna," she said. "Anna's also new here."

"What's wrong?" Some one else with soft golden curls and shimmering green eyes asked.

"I- I- I'm a transfer from America!" The girl wailed into her hanky. The others all looked at each other somberly. After all, it was common knowledge that the transfers had it the worst.

"I understand," a red head said. "I'm dating a werewolf."

"I'm the daughter of an accused murderer, only it he really isn't, oh, and I saved the world from an all holy evil using karate."

"I'm an all powerful necromancer. I'm also Voldemort's daughter," said another. The only other man... or boy, Romeo realized, as he looked closer, sneered. He was dressed incognito, but as he adjusted his sunglasses, his hood shifted and some strands of silver blonde hair fell onto his face.

"At least it's all been made up for you." He bore defensively at the looks he was receiving. "At least you.. at least you weren't part of the canon. You haven't been set up correctly, and then massacred by others." His voice trembled, as one of the girls looked at him nodding.

"You can take off the glasses," she said in a misty voice. "I know who you are. You're Draco Malfoy. I... I..." She looked down at her knees. "We.. erm.. date heavily in chapter 4 of that fic..." Malfoy made a strange choking noise.

"Damn those writers!" A rather busty twenty something woman with blue hair and piercings roared. "Why do they do this to us, those writers! The readers, they blame us! They insult us! It's not like we can help it!" The others burst into an angry chatter, but there was one who wasn't nearly as emotional. There she was, across the room, writing things down on a white sheet of muggle paper, and asking questions to the other... Mary Sues. Romeo noted with interest that she wasn't nearly as pretty as the others; her plain brown hair was up in a high ponytail, and her forehead, nose, and chin was spotted with acne. Romeo stood, then sat next to her.

"Hello," he said to her. She looked up from the paper and smiled at him. "Hi!" She said, "You alright?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine.. sorry, what's your name again?" he asked sheepishly.

"Amanda." She nodded and sighed.

"So," Romeo continued making conversation, "You don't look like the others here."

"No. My writer was... different... so are her Mary Sues."

"You don't mean.." Romeo felt horrible for her. "Not Moon, she's not your Writer, is she? I've heard of what she does to her Mary Sues, and quite frankly..."

"Oh no!" Amanda reassured, "Thank God, no. Although She is a fan of Moon..." Romeo sneered.

"What is literature coming to? As if using character as objects, making us so unbelievable isn't enough... but to make us like this just to make fun of us?" He shook his head sadly.

"I know," she muttered, "Sometimes I worry why I'm not... you know... perfect. I wonder what The Writer has in store for me." She pointed at her nose as she spoke.

"Thankfully, I've never communicated with The Writer," Romeo said, hoping he never would. And judging by Amanda's opinion, it wouldn't be a joyous experience.

They noticed that the others had been leaving; Of course, they had to be very careful. They left one at a time, every ten minutes from different exits in the building. You can imagine how.. overwhelming a group of Mary Sues can be. Romeo kindly escorted Amanda out the door(which read MSA: Mary Sues/Marty Stus Anonymous) until they reached their parting of ways.

"So, I guess I'll see you at the next meeting, then," she said, her eyes shining brightly as she looked back up at him. She smiled and turned to leave, but Romeo held her back, leaned over and kissed her.

Now, you'd imagine a kiss between a Mary Sue and a Marty Stu to be explosive, passionate, and full of emotion. Clearly, that wasn't the case here. In fact, the only description for the kiss could be: it sucked. The fell apart clumsily and suddenly, Romeo lost the bluish tint to his hair and it went limp and somewhat oily, plastered to his head instead of so elegantly buoyant.

"What was that?!" Amanda asked, wiping her mouth. "I thought you said you were a Marty Stu? You know, perfect?" Romeo gasped, and looked down at himself. His clothes had become baggy, and Romeo, he realized just then, was such an incredibly stupid name.

"Oh my god..." he said barely above a whisper upon his realization. "I'm.. I'm.. cured! Thank The Writer!" He let out a loud, happy whoop, and went running down the hall in a rather foolish manner. Amanda looked after him longingly, and after a moment, ran to a window (which just happened to be there, like all things in Mary Sue fics).

Opening it, she sobbed out to the sky, "Damn you! Why? Why me?! Can't you just cut me some slack?!" An echoing, somewhat nasal voice answered her.

"It wasn't meant to be."

"But what is? Why must I look as ugly as you but still be a Mary Sue? Why can't you just leave me alone." From the silence that followed, she knew she'd gone too far; Never insult The Writer. Amanda shut the window closed, and walked out into the street, wondering what The Writer would make her do next.