1531: Heroes and Villains – Chapter Six, Part TwoPosted: September 14, 2016
Title: Heroes and Villains
Author: Horrible’s Igor
Media: Television / Movies
Topic: Buffy: The Vampire Slayer / Kitchen Sink
URL: Heroes and Villains
Critiqued by TacoMagic and Eliza
Heyo, patrons! It’s a bit of a busy week over here, so lets just jump into the recap.
Last week we had a “gather the party” moment right out of a D&D campaign as Olaf just spontaneously shows up at Buffy’s house at three in the morning. Predictably, he joins the group without any meaningful preamble. That said, Olaf was actually pretty well in-character the whole time, so there was that. With Olaf jammed into the group, the point of view cut back over to Elsa McEvil, who may or may not have been renovating the ice palace that may or may not have just been built.
“That brings us to now!”
That’s my line.
The trio were very close now.
*Facepalm* Really!? This is what you think character development is!?
Olaf was still talking about his experiences in this world, chattering on about all the things he’d never seen before and asking them questions about what felt like everything under the sun.
That sounds mildly irritating. But, I can relate.
It was good, though.
“You can totally trust the narrator on that.”
Yeah, he’s got a solid track record of accuracy.
Buffy certainly wanted a distraction from the worst-case scenarios beginning to play in her mind. Somehow, the conversation had returned to movies. Cars, specifically.
So, let me get this straight, you skipped out on showing us all the bonding that got these three close to each other and paraphrased Buffy’s internal turmoil over Willow, just so you could write about the characters talking about Cars?
Nope, no, fine. It’s fine. I’m sure that’s how interesting writing works.
“And it’s about all these cars that are alive, and they do the thing where they zoom around the track and-” They rounded a corner, and saw Elsa’s palace, in all it’s frozen glory.
WHAT THE FUCK!? WHY ARE THEY HERE ALREADY!?
*Eliza reaches for the glitter projection rifle*
I’m calm. I’m calm. Author, why even go through all the build up of Buffy and Jim having to do research and figure out what’s going on with Willow if you’re just going to skip all that!? May as well just have Willow give them her address and cell number next time. For crap’s sake, this is even stupider than when you had Olaf show up, and that was earlier this chapter!
Indeed, it looked like it had been taken straight from the movie, with the exception of the new stairs. “It’s here!” Olaf crowed happily, “I told you it was here!”
“I think we’re finally there!”
*Slam* *Slam* *Slam* *Slam* *Slam* *Slam* *Slam*
Like X, except Y: 7
“I’m being generous because I don’t want to actually go back and re-read everything.”
“Wow…” Buffy breathed as Marlowe came around and got a proper look.
“A look with the pinkie extended.”
“Words fail me,” he said, eyes wide with awe.
It’s so very … blank!
For a few moments they stood still, taking it all in. It was gorgeous. Why couldn’t they have a castle like that?
“It’s nice, but rather cold and austere. I much prefer a more fun and welcoming look.”
It suits you, actually.
“Let’s see if Elsa is still here!” Olaf said, breaking the moment with spectacular ignorance as to its existence.
Hey, asshole narrator, leave Olaf alone. Not everyone is impressed with ice palaces. Especially somebody like Olaf who has already seen a couple of them and has more important things to worry about right now.
“So much for sightseeing,” Buffy sighed, following the snowman to the doors. Olaf fiddled with the handle, then turned around and called out, “It’s locked!”
Yeah, no. It’s a palace. It wouldn’t be locked. The doors could be barred from the inside, but it wouldn’t be locked.
“What do we do?” Buffy asked Marlowe.
“Door’s locked. Guess we’re out of options. Let’s go home and declare defeat.”
“I suggest we try it ourselves,” he replied.
“Okay…” she agreed, grabbing the handle. Oo, cold, cold, cold. She tried to open it, but to no avail. “Yep, locked.”
Or barred from the inside.
“Hmm…” Olaf thought, “Oo! Oo! We should knock!”
Sorry, bud, you need at least a level five wizard to do that.
“I think they mean doing that thing you monkeys do where you smack the door with your hand.”
“Was that us, or the fic?”
I’m honestly not sure.
“The obvious escapes us again,” Buffy laughed ruefully, and knocked thrice.
The narrative just can’t decide what it wants to be. Archaic, conversational, detached, limited, universal, drunk, etc. Igor, PICK SOMETHING! Your prose jumps around more than a squirrel on speed.
“Not to mention it’s a lot less interesting.”
The sound bounced off the surrounding rock, echoing loudly. “Ooo… big, ominous echo.”
“Is there any other kind?” Marlowe asked rhetorically.
“Um, yes. Yes there is.”
In fact, most echoes aren’t ominous. Most of them are just echoes. And echoes certainly aren’t always big.
“I’m getting the feeling that Jimmy might not have earned his degree legitimately.”
Yeah, his frequent, unsuccessful attempts to sound deep certainly have a ‘diploma mill’ feeling about them. It’s probably why he teaches a single class based on California literature.
“You know what, Olaf?” Buffy said, realizing something, “Why don’t you just move to the side so Elsa can’t see you? She might still be upset.
“Okay,” Olaf said reluctantly, shuffling away.
Hold on, did he ever tell them that Elsa might be upset with him?
“I don’t think so, but let me check.”
*A quick bit of re-reading later*
“Nope! All he tells them is that he’s looking for Elsa. They actually make a huge leap of logic to come to the conclusion that Elsa and Anna are upset with each other based entirely upon Olaf saying that Elsa asked him to leave with Anna and Kristoff.”
We could hope that he actually explained the situation during the scene of deep bonding that the author couldn’t be bothered to show us. We could hope that, but it’s more fair to just go with what the fic has actually shown us.
Buffy is Adam West in disguise.
“Holy implausible conclusion, Taco!”
For a few moments nothing happened, but then the handle crunched down, and the door creaked open.
“She should oil that handle so that it doesn’t freeze up like that.”
Elsa’s head poked out from behind the thick ice. “Oh- can I help you?” she asked. She looked worryingly thin compared to what Buffy remembered, but not as emaciated as she’d been when those doors had finally opened a few days ago.
“Wait. Buffy was there when Elsa first emerged from the castle?”
Naw, it’s just Adam West making an observation.
*Slam* *Slam* *Slam* *Slam* *Slam*
Adam West says so: 5
Still, she had to take a second to process.
Buffy had to take a moment to process the fact that Elsa wasn’t as thin as she was a few weeks ago when Buffy wasn’t around to see her emerge from the castle?
“You make my head hurt sometimes.”
“Hi- my name is Buffy Summers,” she said, “and this is my, um, associate, Professor Marlowe. We live in a town called Sunnydale and, um, yesterday, your snowman Olaf came to my house.”
So, even if Elsa might be angry at Olaf, you still bring him up. You really know how to make friends, don’t you?
“At least the honesty is refreshing.”
True enough. I think I’d rather take self-defeating honesty than pointless, self-defeating lies. We get enough of those in other fics.
Elsa looked at her in surprise. “Olaf came to your house?” she repeated.
We’re here to ask that you keep your snowman on a leash, and that you pick up his coal when he drops it on other people’s lawns.
“Yeah,” Buffy nodded. “He was all by himself, and he said he was looking for you.”
“Looking for me?” Elsa repeated, a small smile of disbelief forming on her face.
Olaf loves basically everyone, and you’re essentially his mother. Why is his search for you unbelievable?
“Yeah- he said he left Anna and Kristoff to find you,” Buffy confirmed. “He wanted to see if you would come back with him.”
Come back to…
It’s kinda rude inviting yourself and your family to stay at somebody else’s house.
“Would you be able to turn Olaf down?”
Mmmm, fair point. If nothing else I could probably request some sort of magical snow-free zone on my driveway as payment for room and board. Heck, if Elsa could do that, they could live in my basement as long as they wanted.
She scowled. “Then it would seem he forgot to mention that my sister and I are no longer on speaking terms,” she replied icily, “We’ve had a fight and I’m certainly not coming to join her on her little trip, nor does she want me.”
Ahh right, the stupid fight. I almost forgot that the entire basis for this fic is an idiotplex plot. Thanks for reminding me, Igor.
“Um- okay, then…” Buffy said, a bit surprised by the sudden shift in Elsa’s tone. “He did mention you two had fought, but he didn’t say anything about that.”
“He didn’t mention either of those things.”
Must have done it off page when all the other interesting things happened.
“Man, I wish we were reading that fic.”
You and me both.
Elsa’s glare relaxed a little. “Olaf tries to see the bright side, but he can’t see when there isn’t enough good. That’s the one flaw he has.”
The fuck does that even mean!? He can’t see when there isn’t enough good? So what, he goes blind if there’s too much evil around? Seems like a pretty poor choice as a warrior against the armies of evil.
“I can understand that…” Buffy admitted.
“Buffy speaks gibberish!?”
It must be one of those unwritten slayer perks.
“Is it- alright if we come in? It’s a bit of a hike back to the village, and we’re a little hungry.”
Did Buffy just imply that food is a given if they were allowed to come inside?
“Well, it is a palace. A certain degree of service is probably fair to assume.”
Mmm, maybe. If she saw the movie, she should know that all Elsa has to offer is ice, snow, and a giant golem.
“Sure, come in,” Elsa smiled, opening the door. As they entered, Marlowe subtly motioned at Olaf to stay where he was. “I’ll get started on something,” Elsa said. “Some tea, water?”
“Iced tea, please.”
“Tea would be nice, thank you,” Marlowe said.
“I’ll take some tea, too,” Buffy said.
“Wonderful,” Elsa smiled. “I actually have a turkey in the oven- would that be alright for dinner?”
“In the oven made of ice?”
She must be going cold turkey.
*Eliza reaches for the glitter projector*
I’ll be good!
“That would be awesome,” Buffy nodded.
“Sounds delicious,” Marlowe agreed.
“Great,” Elsa nodded. “Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be back with tea.”
“She’s as good as a host as Crunchy is.”
He’d be happy to know that somebody is keeping the genteel side of evil alive.
An hour and a half later, Elsa was just finishing garnishing the turkey.
With snow and ice.
“I suppose we really shouldn’t complain. Elsa has done more outlandish things with her magic than cook a turkey in an oven made of ice.”
If she knew more about American holidays, she’d call it a Thanksgiving turkey, and rightly so.
You know, Igor, people can just eat turkey. They don’t need a pointless reference to an American holiday to enjoy it.
Having been shown the ropes of cooking by the best chefs Arendelle had to offer post-Thaw, she was quite learned in the ways of 5-star cuisine.
I can’t even begin with how much is wrong in that one little sentence. I’m going to try, though.
*Eliza wheels in Lyle’s chalkboard*
First, Elsa is the fucking QUEEN! She would not have been cooking in the kitchen. Ever. Even if she wanted to learn how to cook, it would not be proper for her to do so. And, ostensibly, she would have better things to do with her time than learning how to cook.
Second, cooking would have been quite a bit different in eighteenth-century* Norway than it is now. Just because she learned from the best in Arendelle doesn’t mean she would be able to make something palatable by today’s standards. Nor would it mean she would know how to cook a Thanksgiving-style turkey.
Third, palace cooks in the eighteenth-century would have been more interested in making food that was decorative than they would be interested in making food that was amazingly delicious. Big feasts were largely social affairs where the majority of the focus was on the aesthetic of the meal experience. In fact, the kitchen staff often ate better than the party goers because the staff’s food would actually be fresh and warm.
Fourth, there is no way Elsa would know what 5-star cuisine is. And even then, it’s probably more important to be associated with three Michelin Stars than the more generic 5-stars that were introduced later by less recognized guides.
Fifth, ‘chef’ is a term that didn’t become wide-spread outside of France until the early nineteenth-century, quite a time after the events in the movie. Elsa would be unlikely to know what a chef is.
Sixth, it takes YEARS of study and dedication to become a “5-star” chef. Elsa does not get to that level of proficiency just by being in the kitchen a few times around a good cook.
Seventh, if she can just magic everything anyway, why is she cooking in the first place?
Eighth, why was she making an entire turkey for herself? She was barely eating a few days/weeks/whatever ago, and now she’s making an entire turkey?
I mean, what the hell, Igor? You couldn’t have made that sentence any less plausible if you had actually tried to.
An oven sped things up a lot, which was a nice change.
“As they have for the past twenty-eight-hundred years.”
She would have to thank Willow for setting the palace up with modern kitchen appliances- save a fridge. She didn’t need a fridge.
So, wait, is this at the old palace or is this the new one at Lassen? If this is the old one, why is Willow tricking this one out? How the hell is this organization organized!?
“Evil. And villainy!”
That’s not an organizational structure!
She finished up lining the platter with rosemary, then picked it up and brought it out, still steaming hot.
So wait, is it Elsa or the rosemary that’s steaming hot?
“Either way, this fic is making me hungry.”
*Taco scoots a few inches away from the hungry raptor*
She’d had the forethought earlier to bring out the entire kettle of tea for her guests- wouldn’t want them running out prematurely.
Translation: Igor forgot to write the scene where she served tea, so put this reference in instead of going back and writing it.
“Sorry it took so long,” she apologized, setting down the platter on the table in the middle of the living room. “I learned to cook a very specific way, and it’s a little time-consuming.”
What way would that be?
“With magic ice.”
I could see how that would slow down the cooking process, yeah.
Buffy looked at the turkey with wide eyes. “Oh, no, that’s fine- I mean, this looks delicious!”
“It’s nothing special, really,” Elsa replied modestly, flattered.
Generally I wait until my guests have actually eaten the food and complimented the flavor before being flattered. I’ve eaten some very nice looking food that tasted profoundly mediocre.
“When I got back to Arendelle after my little… let’s say slip-up, I tried to make up for it by cooking Anna’s food for her. I had the cooks teach me how to make the basic things.”
Once again, the narrator is shown to be a liar.
“Or Elsa is fishing for praise by understating her training.”
I’m not really sure which is worse, honestly.
“Your basic is my epic!” Buffy exclaimed. “I can barely hold my own against frozen leftovers.”
“If find that a squad of Darkwraiths is more than sufficient a weapon to utilize against frozen leftovers.”
I don’t often battle my leftovers. Generally because I don’t leave them in the freezer long enough to come to life and attack.
“This is truly very well done,” Marlowe agreed, taking the knife and cutting himself a slice.
Can somebody please eat the fucking turkey before complimenting it!? Sweet crap, people, at least compliment the smell before talking about how awesome the turkey is. Also, baking a turkey is not all that hard in the first place!
“It’s no trouble,” Elsa replied.
“Looking more like that ‘fishing for praise’ thing.”
Maybe. To be fair to Elsa, cooking a turkey is actually pretty easy, even without one of those turkey bag things you see a lot of these days. You truss it, rub it with spices, and then dump it in the oven. After that, it’s mostly finding something to do with yourself for four hours.
“So, I’m curious,” Buffy said after a short pause, cutting her own piece, “Why did you leave Arendelle? After what Olaf said, it sounded like things were going okay.”
Oh here we go, things are about to get stupid again.
Again, Olaf wasn’t focusing on the subtleties that detract from it,” Elsa responded.
I wouldn’t call being a shit Queen ‘subtle.’
“Neither would a massive fight over their inability to lead be all that hard to miss.”
“Arendelle was doing well, true, but I had a bad feeling about getting back to being Queen. The people were happy, but they could never be too comfortable with someone like me as their ruler, especially after what happened at my coronation- they’d say it was a bad omen. I took preemptive action before they could start to worry.
So basically everything was going absolutely fine and the only reason you screwed everything up was because the author needed a fake reason for everything in the fic to happen.
I’m whelmed. That’s honestly the exact explanation I was expecting. Doesn’t make the setup not completely stupid, but at least it’s consistent with the build-up.
“Did you have someone who could take over?” Buffy asked.
“Yup! There was a council of advisors. They weren’t the brightest bunch, but they were there.”
Really, it’s kinda surprising that Arendelle was doing so well given how crap the leadership was as a whole.
“I did,” Elsa replied. “I had talked with my advisers about it before I left, and they said they would figure things out.”
Hey, well, there you go. The first plausible thing of this whole debacle right there.
“That has to be difficult,” Marlowe said thoughtfully. “The last of the royal bloodline leaving the kingdom. How would they go about choosing a new ruler?”
Generally either extended bloodline succession or bloody conflict. It would probably do less damage to the kingdom to have a worthless or puppet dictator in control for a while, but a regent could be chosen to keep things in control while they search for the rightful heir.
“My advisors said they would look at a number of candidates and decide amongst themselves who they feel would be most qualified,” Elsa answered.
“That’s not how a monarchy works.”
“And the citizens?” Marlowe inquired.
They don’t get a choice. Unless they revolt. Which they don’t really have much reason to at the moment, Arendelle is pretty nice all things considered.
“They’ll go along with it,” Elsa responded wearily. “While it’s strange at first, they’ll get used to it- and then I’ll just become a story to tell their children about before bedtime.”
“Honey, if all the citizens have to deal with is things being a little strange, it’s going to be a golden era of prosperity.”
“Do you think you’ll go back?” asked Buffy.
“I don’t know if I can,” Elsa admitted. “The way I got here was possibly unique to my world. I’m not sure if there’s a way back in this world.”
“Why did she jump dimensions, anyway?”
“Maybe you could use magic,” Buffy suggested.
“One presumes that’s how she did it the first time.”
Lie, a voice in Elsa’s head suddenly said. Pretend you don’t know about magic.
Dude, you’re guests were sent by a talking snowman. Something tells me that the jig is already up.
“Magic?” she said out loud. “You have magic in this world too?”
“Probably not the same kind as yours, but yeah,” Buffy confirmed. “There’s witches and warlocks you could find around the world.”
“Yeah. I used to know a witch, but we haven’t spoken in years.”
“We had a rocky friendship,” the Slayer stated frankly. “So much power between us- it led to some bumpy roads.”
Actually, the only things that made it rocky were questionable choices on both your parts; your powers had little-to-nothing to do with the primary conflicts between you. Not to mention a near full reconciliation was made between you after the whole “world seed” debacle.
“That’s never fun,” Elsa replied.
“Thank you, colonel evident!”
“No…” Buffy sighed, “it certainly isn’t. It’s also bothering me a bit now, because I thought she died seven years ago, and just yesterday I got a letter from her.”
“This totally topical segue into the plot brought to you by PCC brand conversations! When you’ve got nothing to say, we’ll make sure it’s important anyway!”
Seriously, are there any interns here who aren’t on the PCC’s payroll!?
Wait, she thought. A letter?
Dude, if you can’t keep to a single point of view, using a pronoun there doesn’t tell us who is supposed to be thinking that.
“Do tell,” she answered, taking a sip of her tea.
“Wait! Is this GirlWoman!?”
It was only a matter of time before she showed up.
“It was weird,” Buffy continued obligingly, “’cause it was on old parchment instead of paper, and there was a wax seal on it.”
Willow said something about this… “How peculiar.”
“And she sounds like she is not happy with me- she wished me a Merry Christmas, which means that I’m probably gonna get a visit from her soon.”
Adam West says so: 6
“What does that mean for you?” she asked.
“She’s probably going to come and beat me into a pulp- all black-haired and vengeance-wreaking,” the girl said resignedly.
“I’m still trying to figure out what Willow is actually trying to get revenge for.”
You know, for the thing. The thing that Buffy did. Hence, revenge.
“Sounds like this has happened before,” Elsa replied.
Almost like the author is reusing an old plot without refreshing it to make it novel.
“That would never happen!”
“We got into a major fight in 2002- she nearly ended the world after her girlfriend got shot.”
While true, that’s a hugely disjointed retelling of that series of events that makes it sound like Buffy shot Willow’s girlfriend.
Elsa froze for a quick moment. “I’m sorry, did you say girlfriend.”
“We’re still dancing around the inevitable the Elsa x Willow pairing.”
The author is desperately hoping that it’ll be a surprise.
“Yeah- she’s gay,” Buffy replied simply.
“That’s… different,” Elsa allowed.
Buffy smiled sheepishly. “I’m guessing there wasn’t much of that where you lived?”
At least not out in the open. Typically that ended with getting stoned to death.
“There were an awful lot of ladies maids back in the day.”
That there were.
“I never knew that some women preferred other women,” Elsa admitted. “Then again, I spent most of my life in a castle, so I guess I can’t say I have much experience with the goings on of the kingdom’s couples.”
The less said about Elsa spending a lot of time alone in her room, the better.
“Must have been difficult with those gloves on all the time. Makes it hard to feel anything.”
Dare I ask to what you are referring?
“How would she turn the pages while reading!?”
“But yeah-” Buffy said, going back into her summation of doom, “Willow Rosenberg, gay witch that’s gone bd and wants to kick my ass.”
Actually, if she’s gone BD, she probably wants you to kick hers.
Never mind, moving on!
*Taco points at himself*
“Hmm. Could you excuse me for a moment?” she asked, standing up. “I want to get started on dessert so that you don’t have to sit around again.”
“If you haven’t started dessert yet, sitting around is inevitable while you prepare it.”
“Okay,” Buffy replied. “Have fun!”
“Dessert’s the best part,” Elsa grinned.
We are still talking about food, right?
We aren’t, are we?
Anyway, with that, we cut over to Willow.
The blizzard had cleared out around 4:00, leaving a good view of the moon rising in the sky through the window of the CRoE.
Eliza, write that down. The blizzard stopped around four o’clock. I’m sure that’ll be critical information.
“I’m on it!” *Eliza pokes at her phone a bit*
Willow seemed to remember something about the next two full moons being ‘supermoons’.
There were actually three of them in a row in 2014. Now, if you’re done trying to look smart, can you actually develop some plot, please?
What was so super about them? So what, it was a few hundred or thousand miles closer than usual- it wasn’t like it had turned bright blue.
They’re about 15% bigger than a normal full moon. It’s pretty neat. If you’re really not all that interested in the topic of supermoons, why did you bring it up in the first place?
She stared at it, twisting in her chair a little. That migraine had finally gone away, leaving her thoughts crystal-clear.
So you celebrate by doing nothing?
“She isn’t doing nothing. She’s staring at the moon while being completely disinterested in astronomical phenomena!”
Funnily enough, this coincided with a marked decrease in things to do.
“See? She figured out how to do less than nothing. That takes time and dedication!”
She’d done everything short of chatting with the interns.
Wow, so much nothing, and she’s done all of it!
“If there was a gold star for being the most devoid of accomplishment, she’d get it!”
She needed something to do.
“Nuh-uh. If she found something to do, she’d ruin her streak!”
Is there anybody out there?… An-y-bod-y?… I’m bored…
Oh crap! I think she knows we’re here!
“Shhh! Maybe if we don’t make any noise, she won’t see us.”
The phone rang, almost as if it had heard her.
*Taco looks at Eliza*
“Wasn’t me, I’m playing Castle Crashers, see?”
Elsa, the screen read. She picked up. “Hello- Willow?” Elsa said.
“Elsa. What’s up?” she asked.
“See, totally a coincidence.”
I remain suspicious.
“I got some visitors an hour ago- we’ve been having dinner, and one of them mentioned you as their old friend,” Elsa revealed.
“Really?” Willow replied with false unconcern.
Really, Igor? You throttle the thesaurus at every turn up until now, and the word you come up with is ‘unconcern?’
“Yes. You wouldn’t happen to know two people named Buffy Summers and Professor Marlowe, would you?”
Quick! Take the fifth!
I’ll turn down the lights, you build a blanket fort!
*A flurry of activity later, Taco and Eliza are secured in their blanket fortress*
She’ll never be able to get us in here, I lined it with sheets!
“Are they still there?” she asked after a pause.
“We’re not here, go away!”
“Yes,” Elsa responded.
Darkwraiths! Add more blankets, they’ve seen through the disguise!
“Why did they come?”
Look, we’re just here for the badfic, it’s what we do!
“It was Taco’s idea!”
Dude, it’s a little early to throw me under the bus. You have to wait until they at least accuse us of something.
“Olaf was looking for me- he found them.”
“I knew I couldn’t trust that snowman.”
Wait, Olaf ratted us out? I can’t believe that.
“Well, he probably didn’t do it on purpose. He’s just really bad at keeping secrets.”
“Olaf? He came back?”
“Apparently he wanted me to go back with him and Anna,” Elsa said, pacing.
Oh good, they’re focusing on Olaf. Put a few more blankets on and maybe they’ll forget we’re here.
“I presume that’s not happening.”
“Not a chance,” she replied fervently.
Willow was quiet for a moment, then said, “Tell you what- find a way to subdue them, and then take them back to the base. I’ll take care of them from there.”
“You’ll never take Taco alive!”
Yeah, you’ll never take- hey!
“Sounds good,” Elsa nodded, laughing a little. “First day out on the job.”
“You up for it?”
“It’s been a number of weeks and Elsa still hasn’t actually done anything.”
Up for it? Elsa was made for this job!
Elsa grinned with anticipation. “Oh yes…” She turned and looked down the hall, where only two little corridors separated her from her new friends. “I’ve got a hell of a dessert for them.”
“Make sure you stir it up really well. Taco doesn’t like it if the poison settles to a bitter layer on the bottom.”
Yeah, I’ll give this place a bad rating if I taste any of the poison!
Anyway, at this point the chapter ends and we cut to the author’s note.
Tell me- do I separate this by season into seven stories of ~150-175 chapters each, or do we go for one gigantic 1200/1300-chapter story?
“Oh, honey, how about you concentrate on writing one good chapter before you worry about how you organize a pile of terrible ones.”
Remember: ~8 chapters per episode, 22 episodes per season, 7 seasons total.
And sixteen more chapters before you totally lose interest in the premise.
Thank you for helping us help you help us all.
And I’ll thank you ahead of time for never typing anything that asinine again.
Whew, and with that, another chapter comes to an end. This fic is starting to sit on my head and squash it with the slow pacing, vague everything, and over-focus on uninteresting character interaction. I think we’re going to tackle one more chapter to get us to about 1/3 of the way through, then take a one-shot break to cleanse the palate and soothe the soul. Until next time, patrons!
“Do you think Elsa is still planning to poison you?”
Maybe. Just to be on the safe side I think I’m going to have a Darkwraith taste my desserts for the next few days.
*Suddenly a cohort of Darkwraiths cram their way into the riffing chamber*
“Somebody is very popular!”
*A note here, I erroneously used nineteenth-century in previous riffs because that’s the time-period the original work, “The Snow Queen,” was set in. However, upon deeper checking, a more appropriate time-period for Frozen is the late 1700s due to the technology displayed and the cross-over with Tangled.