The author admits that this is a self-insertion, but not a Mary Sue. "Yes, it's self-insertion. But my character isn't perfect; far from it!" Do you want to be the one that tells her it's still pathetic wish fufillment, or shall I?
Title: And then Artemis said, 'Bring It On' <--- do you smeeeell what the Fowl is cooking?
Author: The Penmaster. But her name is Jo, which means ominous and horrible things.
Punishment for the Mary Sue?
three neutrino shots to the head. she made me laugh. once.
The author has also told off someone who wrote pure shite. She is now redeemed in my eyes.
Name: Jo. "She's me."
Species: Evil, self-inserting fangirl.
Hair: Not mentioned.
Eyes: Not mentioned.
Markings, clothes, etc. : A necklace, "dangerously low tight hip-huggers and a tiny crop top," and then later pulls on a sweater. Aw, modesty.
Does the LEP stand a chance? Yes. Jo screams "I am useless! Please save me!" I think the only weapon she has is the power to make people dance. She can also scream "LLAMAS!" loudly.
Origin: A bedroom with peach walls and digital clock. Excitement.
Connections To Canon: ... she's read the first two books?
Special Abilities: Making Artemis Fowl, poster boy for the thin and pale, question the bigness of his ass. Making Juliet dance to Christina Aguilera's "Dirrty." MAKING ARTEMIS FOWL GO CLUBBING IN A TANKTOP.Sadly, the idea intrigues me. I'm a huge supporter of making Artemis Fowl go boi. He also breakdances. What the fuck? She'll also make Holly and Artemis see that they're each other's WUN TWU WUV.
Traits: She's a big eater, does not seem at all intimidated by Butler's very big gun, and likes dancing. A lot. In her cute little hiphugger jeans. Mother of Christ, what is wrong with you?
Final Thoughts: Artemis Fowl dancing to Eminem. Riiiight.
"The Penmaster" seems delirious. This is practically admitted wish fufilment on her part. A Mary Sue is someone who, 99% of the time, can make/force characters to do outrageously OOC things. Artemis Fowl breakdancing - BREAKDANCING - is OOC, obviously, so this Jo person is a Mary Sue, plain and simple. I don't know how the author cannot see that. Apparently she believes she is exempt from Mary Sue-ism, as she is a "flawed" "character." Excuse me, but anyone who wears hiphugger jeans in a fanfic is not going to be seen as "flawed," they are going to be seen as a person who deems themselves worthy of being stunningly attractive in written literature when they are obviously not worthy of being so. Mary Sues deserve nothing, zilch, nada, and zip. Absolute zero.
*breaths deeply* Right then. Please hit yourself with a frying pan.
Jo also manages to snag a bedroom attached to Artemis's. Well, isn't that just hunky-dory. That doesn't seem like a forced relationship at all. After all, after I go clubbing with all my fictional male friends, we always shack up! It's the fashion today, mien Sues! Quick, let me rape Harry Potter!
Artemis also has an old t-shirt of Juliet's from when she was fifteen. No reason is given as to why he has it. I could say something about unhealthy obsessions here, but I think Jo already knows that.
Sample:
Jo could not sleep.
She never could sleep without her nightly reading. Be it trashy magazines, Lord of the Rings (she was particularly addicted to Lord of the Rings -- and Legolas was sooooo hot! Erm... back to the story...), Artemis Fowl, Tamora Pierce, Harry Potter, more trashy magazines... She loved reading. She needed to read before going to bed. It really, really helped her go to sleep. Really. However, she didn't get to read... at all.
As a result, she was up in bed screaming, "LLAMA, LLAMA, LLAMA!" for a half- an-hour before Artemis decided to fling open the damn door and choke her to death. It was that or force-feed her a bottle of Ritalin pills. Artemis was not usually very inclined to such violent reactions, but this was a special case. And there was a first time for everything.
"Shut. The. Hell. Up!" Artemis lunged for poor, unsuspecting Jo's neck, scrambling over the edge of the mattress in his deperate attempt to wrap his slender, elegant fingers around her throat. "Aaah!" Jo screamed, cowering underneath her satin covers. "I know you want my *sex-ay* body, but this is ridiculous! I mean, waking up in the middle of the night just for... meeeeeeee -- GAH!" Distinct choking sounds were heard.
"Not. Another. Word. About. Those. Damn. LLAMAS! OR I KILL YOU!" Artemis really looked crazed. "You know," Jo said tentatively, "there are many brands of decaf coffee that are just as good as the real thing... Shuttingup," she added as a murderous glare was directed her way. Sparks jumped from that blue glare. "Furthermore," Artemis ground out, "I do *not*, I repeat, do *not* want *your* body. I barely even *know* you. And I don't like you," he added as an afterthought.
He ducked reflexively. It was just in time to avoid a flying statuette. The statuette landed with a thunk on the floor. Jo made an exhasperated noise and pulled the covers over her head. Artemis made a noise, and walked toward the door. "No more llamas," he hissed threateningly, and slammed the door shut. Jo threw down the covers, stuck her tongue at the closed door, and pulled them back over her head. Maturity was certainly not her forté.
Through three walls, Jo culd hear the loud slam of Artemis's door.
Smiling, she whispered, "I won't get mad. I'll get even."
In her hand was a card -- not just any card. It was a very, very important card. To Artemis anyway. Jo's grin went from wolfish to manic. And she cackled.
Lying in her palm was the credit card she'd filched from his wallet earlier that evening.
~*~*~*~*~
Artemis padded softly from his room to the bathroom. He'd just realized, he'd forgotten to take his soak of evil in his Olympic-sized bathrub of evil. Removing all his clothes of evil, he slipped into the warm water of evil. Heaving a sigh of evil, he let the steam of evil rise into his face of evil. He twiddled the tap of evil, and bubbles of evil poured out.
He swam a lap of evil around the bathrub of evil, and wet his hair of evil. Reaching for the soap of evil, he lathered it up to evil bubblefoamy goodness. Then he washed off the lather of evil and climbed into the jacuzzi of evil for a good, five-hour-soak of evil. Maybe he would even fall into an evil sleep. And he proceeded to do just that.
~*~*~*~*~
Meanwhile, belowground Holly was getting ready to investigate what Foaly called 'a very unusual personnage suddenly appearing in Fowl Manor for no apparent reason'. When he was asked how he'd found this out, since all the cameras had been removed, his tail gave a guilty little swish and he replied, "Well, you know, maybe just one or two or fifty-two button cameras I forgot to remove. No big deal, right?"
This creature/person/thing didn't really appear that dangerous, so it was decided that Holly would not need an iris-cam or any other techie junk, except a good old gun and maybe a mic. Holly just needed to make sure that Artemis wasn't getting her to do his dirty work. The habits of a few years would not be so easily rid of, and Artemis could have very easily (and plausibly) lasped back into crime. Only this time being more cautious. It was very plausible. Very possible.
And then again, Holly *did* want to see how Artemi -- er, Fowl was doing. If he still looked good as always. Damn. She had not just thought that. Yes, she had. Someone, shoot her, please! Holly looked around. No mind- probing waves. She heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but you never know. Someone might just be reading her mind.
If Foaly could've heard her thoughts, he would have snorted and said, "You're even more paranoid than I am." If such a thing was possible. At least Holly didn't wear a bloody tinfoil hat. Although she was sure LEP helmets worked just as well for reflecting any mind-reading.
Holly grinned. This was completely unlike her, so ridiculously unlike her that it was funny. But of course, nothing wrong was happening to her. She was going through a 'phase'. Mud Men would call it 'puberty', except for the fact that in fairy reality, Holly was over eighty (although by calculations, she would just be about... fourteen-ish? I'm wrong? Well bite my ass!)... Holly Short hadn't changed since Artemis last saw her.
Except for the fact that she was over six feet now.
Holly Short loved Foaly technology, she really did. Thanks to a potion he made, all the elves in Haven were over six feet tall. This was an advantage to them... they could blend in anywhere now. Maybe even start reclaiming some of their earth. Maybe. They would have to plan it out carefully, not like fanfiction authors who have only an initial idea and no good plot.
The flygirl strapped her gun onto her hip and grinned wickedly. Time to crash Artemis's party. Or something like that.
~*~*~*~*~
Holly slipped her slim fingers beneath a crack underneath a carelessly closed window. Humans, she sighed, pathetic, every one of them. Except maybe... No. Nonononono. No. NOOOOOO! No, damnit, no! He was a human. Just a human. Not worthy of her. Trouble Kelp -- now *there* was the hotness. Sure, he didn't have stunningly gorgeous blue eyes or fair skin and cheekbones cut with paper-edged precision... DAMNIT!
Fuming, Holly slid the window up. She glanced at the sleeping girl, unstrapping her gun and pointing it at her head. She could wait until the girl woke up, which she guarateed wouldn't be long...
The girl sat up in bed screaming, "LLAMAAAAA!" and glanced at the gun. She gave a high pitched squeak-gasp-nee-snerk and screamed.
Holly grinned. Touching the tip of her ear where the mic was precariously balanced, her grin grew maniacally wider.
"One Mud Girl, check."
That smile was evil, pure evil.
"One big gun, check."
Evil, evil, evil. Jo would smack her if she wasn't so damn terrified of the bloody big gun.
"Holly Short is in the building."
The smile grew ever wider, curling acorss those generous lips. Sharp, gleaming white teeth were revealed in the darkness as Holly threw her head back and laughed. Oh, but this was so fun! That look on the girl's face was too much. Of course Holly would not actually hurt her, but... This was so funny!
"Let's rock!"
And that's when Artemis flung open the door, blue eyes ablaze, wearing nothing.
...
...
...
... nothing but a towel that is!
For those of you who skipped the LJ cut, thus preserving your sanity, Holly was made to be six feet tall in order to be Arty's WUN TRU WUV.
*puke*
Title: And then Artemis said, 'Bring It On' <--- do you smeeeell what the Fowl is cooking?
Author: The Penmaster. But her name is Jo, which means ominous and horrible things.
Punishment for the Mary Sue?
three neutrino shots to the head. she made me laugh. once.
The author has also told off someone who wrote pure shite. She is now redeemed in my eyes.
Name: Jo. "She's me."
Species: Evil, self-inserting fangirl.
Hair: Not mentioned.
Eyes: Not mentioned.
Markings, clothes, etc. : A necklace, "dangerously low tight hip-huggers and a tiny crop top," and then later pulls on a sweater. Aw, modesty.
Does the LEP stand a chance? Yes. Jo screams "I am useless! Please save me!" I think the only weapon she has is the power to make people dance. She can also scream "LLAMAS!" loudly.
Origin: A bedroom with peach walls and digital clock. Excitement.
Connections To Canon: ... she's read the first two books?
Special Abilities: Making Artemis Fowl, poster boy for the thin and pale, question the bigness of his ass. Making Juliet dance to Christina Aguilera's "Dirrty." MAKING ARTEMIS FOWL GO CLUBBING IN A TANKTOP.
Traits: She's a big eater, does not seem at all intimidated by Butler's very big gun, and likes dancing. A lot. In her cute little hiphugger jeans. Mother of Christ, what is wrong with you?
Final Thoughts: Artemis Fowl dancing to Eminem. Riiiight.
"The Penmaster" seems delirious. This is practically admitted wish fufilment on her part. A Mary Sue is someone who, 99% of the time, can make/force characters to do outrageously OOC things. Artemis Fowl breakdancing - BREAKDANCING - is OOC, obviously, so this Jo person is a Mary Sue, plain and simple. I don't know how the author cannot see that. Apparently she believes she is exempt from Mary Sue-ism, as she is a "flawed" "character." Excuse me, but anyone who wears hiphugger jeans in a fanfic is not going to be seen as "flawed," they are going to be seen as a person who deems themselves worthy of being stunningly attractive in written literature when they are obviously not worthy of being so. Mary Sues deserve nothing, zilch, nada, and zip. Absolute zero.
*breaths deeply* Right then. Please hit yourself with a frying pan.
Jo also manages to snag a bedroom attached to Artemis's. Well, isn't that just hunky-dory. That doesn't seem like a forced relationship at all. After all, after I go clubbing with all my fictional male friends, we always shack up! It's the fashion today, mien Sues! Quick, let me rape Harry Potter!
Artemis also has an old t-shirt of Juliet's from when she was fifteen. No reason is given as to why he has it. I could say something about unhealthy obsessions here, but I think Jo already knows that.
Sample:
Jo could not sleep.
She never could sleep without her nightly reading. Be it trashy magazines, Lord of the Rings (she was particularly addicted to Lord of the Rings -- and Legolas was sooooo hot! Erm... back to the story...), Artemis Fowl, Tamora Pierce, Harry Potter, more trashy magazines... She loved reading. She needed to read before going to bed. It really, really helped her go to sleep. Really. However, she didn't get to read... at all.
As a result, she was up in bed screaming, "LLAMA, LLAMA, LLAMA!" for a half- an-hour before Artemis decided to fling open the damn door and choke her to death. It was that or force-feed her a bottle of Ritalin pills. Artemis was not usually very inclined to such violent reactions, but this was a special case. And there was a first time for everything.
"Shut. The. Hell. Up!" Artemis lunged for poor, unsuspecting Jo's neck, scrambling over the edge of the mattress in his deperate attempt to wrap his slender, elegant fingers around her throat. "Aaah!" Jo screamed, cowering underneath her satin covers. "I know you want my *sex-ay* body, but this is ridiculous! I mean, waking up in the middle of the night just for... meeeeeeee -- GAH!" Distinct choking sounds were heard.
"Not. Another. Word. About. Those. Damn. LLAMAS! OR I KILL YOU!" Artemis really looked crazed. "You know," Jo said tentatively, "there are many brands of decaf coffee that are just as good as the real thing... Shuttingup," she added as a murderous glare was directed her way. Sparks jumped from that blue glare. "Furthermore," Artemis ground out, "I do *not*, I repeat, do *not* want *your* body. I barely even *know* you. And I don't like you," he added as an afterthought.
He ducked reflexively. It was just in time to avoid a flying statuette. The statuette landed with a thunk on the floor. Jo made an exhasperated noise and pulled the covers over her head. Artemis made a noise, and walked toward the door. "No more llamas," he hissed threateningly, and slammed the door shut. Jo threw down the covers, stuck her tongue at the closed door, and pulled them back over her head. Maturity was certainly not her forté.
Through three walls, Jo culd hear the loud slam of Artemis's door.
Smiling, she whispered, "I won't get mad. I'll get even."
In her hand was a card -- not just any card. It was a very, very important card. To Artemis anyway. Jo's grin went from wolfish to manic. And she cackled.
Lying in her palm was the credit card she'd filched from his wallet earlier that evening.
~*~*~*~*~
Artemis padded softly from his room to the bathroom. He'd just realized, he'd forgotten to take his soak of evil in his Olympic-sized bathrub of evil. Removing all his clothes of evil, he slipped into the warm water of evil. Heaving a sigh of evil, he let the steam of evil rise into his face of evil. He twiddled the tap of evil, and bubbles of evil poured out.
He swam a lap of evil around the bathrub of evil, and wet his hair of evil. Reaching for the soap of evil, he lathered it up to evil bubblefoamy goodness. Then he washed off the lather of evil and climbed into the jacuzzi of evil for a good, five-hour-soak of evil. Maybe he would even fall into an evil sleep. And he proceeded to do just that.
~*~*~*~*~
Meanwhile, belowground Holly was getting ready to investigate what Foaly called 'a very unusual personnage suddenly appearing in Fowl Manor for no apparent reason'. When he was asked how he'd found this out, since all the cameras had been removed, his tail gave a guilty little swish and he replied, "Well, you know, maybe just one or two or fifty-two button cameras I forgot to remove. No big deal, right?"
This creature/person/thing didn't really appear that dangerous, so it was decided that Holly would not need an iris-cam or any other techie junk, except a good old gun and maybe a mic. Holly just needed to make sure that Artemis wasn't getting her to do his dirty work. The habits of a few years would not be so easily rid of, and Artemis could have very easily (and plausibly) lasped back into crime. Only this time being more cautious. It was very plausible. Very possible.
And then again, Holly *did* want to see how Artemi -- er, Fowl was doing. If he still looked good as always. Damn. She had not just thought that. Yes, she had. Someone, shoot her, please! Holly looked around. No mind- probing waves. She heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but you never know. Someone might just be reading her mind.
If Foaly could've heard her thoughts, he would have snorted and said, "You're even more paranoid than I am." If such a thing was possible. At least Holly didn't wear a bloody tinfoil hat. Although she was sure LEP helmets worked just as well for reflecting any mind-reading.
Holly grinned. This was completely unlike her, so ridiculously unlike her that it was funny. But of course, nothing wrong was happening to her. She was going through a 'phase'. Mud Men would call it 'puberty', except for the fact that in fairy reality, Holly was over eighty (although by calculations, she would just be about... fourteen-ish? I'm wrong? Well bite my ass!)... Holly Short hadn't changed since Artemis last saw her.
Except for the fact that she was over six feet now.
Holly Short loved Foaly technology, she really did. Thanks to a potion he made, all the elves in Haven were over six feet tall. This was an advantage to them... they could blend in anywhere now. Maybe even start reclaiming some of their earth. Maybe. They would have to plan it out carefully, not like fanfiction authors who have only an initial idea and no good plot.
The flygirl strapped her gun onto her hip and grinned wickedly. Time to crash Artemis's party. Or something like that.
~*~*~*~*~
Holly slipped her slim fingers beneath a crack underneath a carelessly closed window. Humans, she sighed, pathetic, every one of them. Except maybe... No. Nonononono. No. NOOOOOO! No, damnit, no! He was a human. Just a human. Not worthy of her. Trouble Kelp -- now *there* was the hotness. Sure, he didn't have stunningly gorgeous blue eyes or fair skin and cheekbones cut with paper-edged precision... DAMNIT!
Fuming, Holly slid the window up. She glanced at the sleeping girl, unstrapping her gun and pointing it at her head. She could wait until the girl woke up, which she guarateed wouldn't be long...
The girl sat up in bed screaming, "LLAMAAAAA!" and glanced at the gun. She gave a high pitched squeak-gasp-nee-snerk and screamed.
Holly grinned. Touching the tip of her ear where the mic was precariously balanced, her grin grew maniacally wider.
"One Mud Girl, check."
That smile was evil, pure evil.
"One big gun, check."
Evil, evil, evil. Jo would smack her if she wasn't so damn terrified of the bloody big gun.
"Holly Short is in the building."
The smile grew ever wider, curling acorss those generous lips. Sharp, gleaming white teeth were revealed in the darkness as Holly threw her head back and laughed. Oh, but this was so fun! That look on the girl's face was too much. Of course Holly would not actually hurt her, but... This was so funny!
"Let's rock!"
And that's when Artemis flung open the door, blue eyes ablaze, wearing nothing.
...
...
...
... nothing but a towel that is!
For those of you who skipped the LJ cut, thus preserving your sanity, Holly was made to be six feet tall in order to be Arty's WUN TRU WUV.
*puke*
