Two barely defrosted shots of Dawn’s freezer Svedka and an hour on Pinterest studying tutorials with names like “daytime smoky eye” and “**prom hair**” later, we still haven’t managed to steer Avery’s makeup away from **dumpster-diving varmint***~.
“I need more of those pads!” she moans despondently, meaning the eye makeup–remover pads of Dawn’s that we’ve been burning through. On my way to the bathroom to grab some more, I glance into my room, where the door is ajar, and see that the group chat is already on fire.
DavidaTheDeadly: so, the OC love triangle emerges . . . still think you could have made gidbot p. interesting from a character angle but whatev
WillianShipper2000: agree!!!!
DavidaTheDeadly: though it is nice to see that a (half-)Ordinaria can think for herself.
xLoupxGaroux: Are you kidding me with this? Two words: Mary. Sue.
DavidaTheDeadly: gahhhhh. give it another installment at least!
xLoupxGaroux: Um, sweetie? 1) Half-breed. 2) High morals/ideals and terribly judgmental of others. 3) Looks fiercer than anybody else in eveningwear without trying. 4) Captivates main male protagonist without doing anything to earn it, really. Either our girl Scarface has been reading too much Ayn Rand (translation: any Ayn Rand) or this is a clear-cut Mary Sue issue.
Scarface: WAY HARSH, TAI. BTW: if you are 14 and read The Fountainhead you don’t even notice the politics, it’s really just a romance novel. Kind of a good one actually.
xLoupxGaroux: I’m gonna pretend you never said that. In fact, can you wipe my brain?
“Scar, where are you?!” Avery yells from the living room.
“Sorry! Give me just a sec!”
WillianShipper2000: who is ayn rand even
WillianShipper2000: is she the one who has that advice column
xLoupxGaroux: Scar, I’m serious. Please brush up on the definition of MARY SUE on the “About Us/Rules” page and do a close read. I don’t want to establish a pattern of lenience with this.
Scarface: dude . . . Do you really think she’s a Mary Sue?
xLoupxGaroux: She’s just too perfect. I want to see her be a real person. Not some idealistic fake paragon of virtue that is clearly a standin to make up for your terror of potentially having fun at a party.
Scarface: WTF?
xLoupxGaroux: Whole lot easier staying in and writing yourself brave instead of going out and BEING brave, is all I’m saying.
Scarface: What even are you
Scarface: OK, I guess that’s valid.
WillianShipper2000: ok w8 bump to above question about Ayn Rand tho u guys.
xLoupxGaroux: Jesus. No, that’s Ann Landers. Google it.
WillianShipper2000: No bc everything you tell me to Google is #BORING #OLD #PERSON #STUFF
xLoupxGaroux: If I have to know what “on fleek” means, you have to know some boring old person stuff.
Their banter lets me exit quietly and gracefully from the chat, still smarting. Nauseated, I click on About Us in the upper left-hand corner and open the Mary Sue litmus test. It reads:
Hey, everybody! Everyone’s encouraged to take risks in their fanfics, and for the most part, aside from hateful content or target harassment of anybody else on the board, anything goes. But it would be supercool to leave the Mary Sue stories—self-insertion into the Lycanthrope universe, based on the writer’s wish fulfillment—at the door! Don’t know if your original character is a Mary Sue? That’s cool! Find out now.
IS YOUR OC A MARY SUE?
1) Does your character have the same name as you or a name that is a variant of yours, such as a nickname or different spelling?
Oh, goddamn it.
2) Does your character look a lot like you?
3) Is your character the youngest in his/her given profession and also the most brilliant?
4) Does your character share strong opinions and beliefs with you?
5) Does he or she often state these opinions, argue with other characters about them, or try to win them over?
6) Does your character get listened to, followed, and respected more than his or her age, position, and experience would merit?
7) Is your character a hybrid of two races?
8) If so, is this hybrid race in any way “tragic” or “cursed”?
There’s a loud knock at the door, and I dart through the living room to answer it, vaulting over the couch and scrambling nearly directly over Avery, who is wiping off her eye makeup as she warily eyes her phone, which is facedown on the coffee table.
“Who’s here now, Gene Hackman?”
From outside: “It’s Ashley!” More knocks. “Hell-ooooo?”
I summon my coldest glare at Avery, and she looks slightly guilty for a second but then throws her arms up with haplessly self-righteous attitude.
“She’s good at this stuff! Okay? Get off my dick! Just be a normal human being for once. Please. I know you can do it.” She wads up her third eye makeup–remover pad and tosses it into an empty coffee cup on the table. “I know things are weird between you guys, but she’s not that bad, I swear.”
I wave her off, taking pity on her, and open the door. Ashley’s already in her dress for the dance, a cute black baby-doll-style cocktail dress that looks irritatingly perfect with her hair.