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Agent Bios:

Agent Brenda Loringham
Department and Division: DMS, Freelance
Response Center: RC #29
Partner: Charlie Shoe
Fandoms: Lord of the Rings, James Bond, Once Upon a Time, Harry Potter, Phantom of the Opera, and others
Weapon(s) of Preference: Longbow
Mini(s)/Pets: Caradharas (mini-Balrog)
Place/Canon of Origin: World One
Species: Human
Gender: Female
Age: Somewhere in the latter half of her 20s.
Physical Appearance: Brenda is of average height with light brown hair and brown eyes to match. She is also farsighted, and often has trouble reading displays, but refuses to admit that she needs glasses. Fortunately, she isn’t nearsighted, and so can still see to aim her bow (or whatever other weapon she happens to be using).
Brief History and Personality Description: Brenda is generally good-natured and easy-going, with a tendency to bounciness, except when faced with such things as crimes against canon. She detests Sues and Suethors with a passion, and has trouble understanding why anyone would want to warp canon in the first place. She originates in World One, and claims never to have written a Suefic (it's unclear whether this is true, or if she has simply suppressed the memory). She was dismayed and disgusted to be partnered with a former Suethor, having hoped for someone similar to her, only sane, but does her best to get past that. (She is, unfortunately for her partner, not always successful. Just how long this partnership will last hinges at least partially on Brenda’s ability to overcome her bias against Suethors—and against former Suethors—when it comes to Charlie).
Brenda joined the PPC approximately seven years ago (around 2006 or 2007 HST). She hadn’t really caught on to iPods and other such technology yet, hence her beloved CD player and her two different CADs. She’s gone through at least one partner in her time as an agent. Her last partner was reassigned after a particularly bad mission, during which Brenda reached dangerous levels of insanity. Brenda had a long stint in FicPsych before being cleared for light active duty again, and was only cleared for full active duty and a new partner about a month before being assigned incoming recruit Charlotte Shoe. Brenda, for obvious reasons, prefers not to talk about her last partner, and especially not about the events that ended their partnership.

Agent Charlotte “Charlie” Shoe
Department and Division: DMS, Freelance
Response Center: RC #29
Partner: Brenda Loringham
Fandoms: Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Pirates of the Caribbean, and others
Weapon(s) of Preference: She has yet to develop a weapons preference, and usually just uses whatever works best with her current disguise.
Mini(s)/Pets: Ectheleon and Glorfinel (mini-Balrogs)
Place/Canon of Origin: World One
Species: Human
Gender: Female
Age: Probably 16, although she isn’t completely sure whether or not she believes that she only spent one year at OFUM. In light of that, well…she could be 17. She could be 220. She doesn’t know (but we’ll go with 16, because that’s how old she looks).
Physical Appearance: Charlie is shorter than Brenda, with light blue eyes, freckles, and wavy blonde hair that turns white-blonde when given enough sun.
Brief History and Personality Description: Charlie is still having trouble adjusting to the PPC, having joined very recently. She is often nervous, but tends to forget about being nervous and get upset at such unlikely things as anime-style Muggle clothing at Hogwarts, or Tolkien's Elves talking and behaving like modern-day human teenagers. She is a former Suethor from World One, and wrote numerous crossover Suefics (often co-written with her friends), but has since attended OFUM (as most of her stories involved extraneous characters coming to Middle-earth) and reformed. She has a special fondness for Tolkien's poetry, and can recite most of it on demand. She is frequently unnerved by Brenda, especially when the latter remembers Charlie's history, but works well enough with her in the field—a fact which may save their partnership.

Note: Charlie was sent into one of the worst of her Crossover Suefics for her first mission, along with a male DIC agent. Brenda went into the badfic to help them after growing too impatient to keep waiting for Charlie to complete the mission and come meet her. (Brenda also felt that Charlie's first mission should not have been with someone else, and jumped at the chance to rectify this). The mission went rather disastrously for the most part (although it may yet become hilarious in hindsight), but in the end was sorted out by the three agents. It was on this mission that Brenda learned that her shiny new (sane!) partner was a former Suethor, and became upset enough to start vowing vengeance on the SO.

[There are several more agents ‘in the works’, but they’re not slated to appear for some time yet. I can provide brief descriptions of them if asked, but they are technically still at an earlier stage of development than Brenda and Charlie.]


Badfics to spork (in order of projected missions):

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8232737/1/Blade
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7823529/1/A-Tale-to-Tell
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8590300/1/Potter-and-Riddle
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8261630/1/The-other-Evenstar


Writing Sample:

A Note of Context:

Once upon a time, Madysyn Emyraald Suesyn Marrye Flynt woke up in Mirkwood, where her Aura of Smooth immediately set to work corrupting the inhabitants and geography of Middle-earth. With her, she brought her best friend, and they proceeded to meet Legolas and set out with him on the two-day ride to Riverdill, where Madysyn’s friend could be tended to by King Elrond. A fairly standard (although painful) story, as Suefics go.

Only, this time, the canon is fighting back. And there are no PPC agents in sight to help it.

The canon and the Sue are at constant war, each fighting tooth and nail to get her or its own way. And for every move Madysyn makes, the canon counters as best it can.

Madysyn enters Middle-earth and corrupts it; the canon shelters those characters and places that exist outside of the Sue’s knowledge. Madysyn attempts to bring a fellow Sue with her; the canon aims for a Tolkien purist, and together they get an average fan. Madysyn attempts to bring more of her World One friends to Middle-earth; the canon shifts and displaces First and Fourth Age characters into the Third. The fight goes on.

That average fan who was mentioned just now? Her name is Teresa. She respects canon and has read Tolkien’s trilogy, but most of her knowledge of Middle-earth comes from goodfics and Mary-Sue parodies. She’s not quite what the canon wanted, and she’s definitely not what Madysyn wanted, but she’ll do.

In fact, her knowledge may well help the last uncorrupted characters save Middle-earth.

Before you is a chapter, the fourth of this story. It has been edited slightly, and provided with this contextual note, so that it can be read alone.

In the previous chapters, Teresa, Madysyn, and a very OOC movie!Legolas reached Riverdill. There they were greeted by a large group of corrupted Elves, and separated. Teresa, seated on a sparkly pink horse (summoned by Madysyn back in Mirkwood), spotted a lone, red-haired Elf among the crowd, and mistook him for a Gary-Stu, although that original opinion was soon refuted by both his bookverse appearance and the knowledge of an IC character. After being displaced to sitting behind Teresa on the back of the horse, the now-invisible Elf introduced himself as Maedhros. He and Teresa argued for a bit, and then were interrupted by a very much in character Glorfindel (who was mistaken for a Vanyarin Elf by Maedhros). The previous chapter ended as Glorfindel realized just where Maedhros was from, Teresa was called for by Madysyn, and Glorfindel led the two away into the Last Homely House to hide.

A quick explanation: Maedhros and Teresa are both understanding and speaking Westron due to a mixture of the Sue’s corruption and the canon attempting to aid them.

And now, without further ado: the chapter.

Trees, GreenLeaves, T’reesa, and the Mary-Sues
A Mary-Sue Parody, by DawnFire

Presented Here, in Part,
For Your Amusement and Evaluation

Chapter Four: Escape to Partial Sanity

“Come,” said Glorfindel. “I will take you to safety—or rather, to sanity. It comes to much the same thing, here.”

The farther they went into the Last Homely House, the more beautiful and elven their surroundings became.

“It has been corrupted,” Glorfindel explained when Teresa (slightly out of breath due to the fast pace the Elf-lord set) asked. “In most places, this is no longer Imladris, but Riverdill. Some places, however, are only partially changed, and still others remain completely untouched...like this one,” he added, knocking quickly on a door, pulling it open, and entering, all within the space of several seconds. Teresa and Maedhros followed him in.

A dark-haired Elf (also quite elven-looking, unlike the many unnaturally-blond Elves capering out in the courtyard in pink clothing) started at their entrance, knocking several papers and a book to the floor as he reached for a long knife that lay on the table by his side.

Sîdh, Erestor,” Glorfindel said, repeating, “peace. Lay down the knife. I have brought friends.”

“Your intelligence must be leaving you,” replied the dark-haired Elf, although he replaced the knife on the table. “You speak of friends, yet I see only one accompanying you.”

“Precisely,” the golden-haired Elf replied calmly. “You see only one. The second, however, is here as well, though he is currently invisible.”

“Invisible?” Erestor raised an eyebrow. “And how, pray tell, did he become invisible?” He looked to be about to continue, but Maedhros interrupted him.

“I have no idea,” he said, voice deceptively calm. “However, if you have an idea, I should like to hear it; and if you have an idea for how to make me visible once more, I shall be overjoyed.”

Erestor started again, so violently that he knocked into the table. The knife fell to the floor with a clatter, followed by the thud of a second book. Both went ignored.

“What,” demanded the chief of Elrond’s counsellors, his own voice deceptively calm, “is going on?”

Glorfindel only waved a hand at him, turning to the place where Maedhros’ voice had last sounded. “As I was saying—”

“Glorfindel.”

The golden-haired Elf turned back to Erestor. “Yes?”

“I would like an answer.”

“Some new peril has come to Imladris,” Glorfindel replied after a long moment’s consideration. “It has brought with it an Elf whom I do not recognize—and who looks much the same as the corrupted Elves of Imladris—as well as a pink horse—pardon me, a sparkling pink horse—” he ignored Erestor’s stare, and continued “—and a girl—this one.” He motioned to Teresa. Erestor gave her a distracted nod, which the girl returned, although not so distractedly. “She was speaking, or rather, arguing, with our invisible friend here when I arrived.”

“‘Our invisible friend’?” Maedhros repeated angrily. “I do not even know you! I have never seen you before!”

“No, I suppose not,” Glorfindel returned. “Although we fought on the same side in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, I do not remember our paths ever crossing there. But even so, what else—?”

“The Nirnaeth Arnoediad?” Maedhros sounded confused. “But that is only a part of the Doom of Mandos—‘Tears unnumbered ye shall shed’. But you speak as though it were a battle—”

“Not a battle,” Glorfindel said, and he sounded weary. “The Nirnaeth Arnoediad was no mere battle, but a war. The fifth war of Beleriand. How is it that you do not remember it?”

“Remember it?” Maedhros’ eyes narrowed, although of course no one saw it. “Why should I remember a fifth war that has not happened? For that matter, what is your purpose in inventing a fifth war and naming it Tears Unnumbered?”

Glorfindel’s hands clenched momentarily into fists. “I did not invent the Nirnaeth, nor did I name it. I would that it had never happened, as do many. But tell me, what is the last thing you remember? Why do you speak of the Nirnaeth as though you have never heard of it—?”

“I knew nothing of a fifth war until you mentioned it,” Maedhros said quietly. He seemed to have come to some conclusion, and sounded slightly confused, although rather calmer than before. “We recently fought the Dagor Bragollach. My brother, Maglor, was forced to flee, and came to my fortress on Himring for safety. The last I remember was leaving for my chambers after a day of planning defences against Morgoth.”

There was a long silence. Finally, Glorfindel sighed, and sank into a chair.

“That certainly explains the matter,” Erestor said. “He has not yet fought the Nirnaeth, and so, of course, has no memory of it. If the Bragollach was that recent for him…” The councillor paused, lips moving. He appeared to be counting. After a few moments of calculation, he spoke again. “Depending on several factors, he could be from the year 456 of the First Age, or 457, 458—”

“456 of the First Age, in winter,” Maedhros interrupted.

“The year 456 in winter, then,” Erestor acknowledged, and then froze. “Wait. Did he say…what did…is he—?” He sighed. “What I am attempting to ask is: what is his name?”

“To put it simply,” Glorfindel said quietly, “he is who you think he is.”

Erestor stared. “How?” he asked weakly. “How can Maedhros Fëanorion possibly be here?”

“I know not,” Glorfindel replied, rather cheerfully. “But his presence could prove useful—once he knows when he is, that is.”

“‘When’ I am?” Maedhros’ voice held a suspicious note. “What do you mean, ‘when’ I am?”

“Precisely what I said.” Glorfindel smiled faintly. “You are in Imladris, in the year 3018 of the Third Age of Middle-earth.”

There was a pause, during which Maedhros stared invisibly at the golden-haired Elf. Then he spoke.

“Insane. Of course. I should have guessed.”

“He’s not insane!” Teresa protested. “He’s a twice-born Balrog-slayer!”

Erestor turned away, shoulders shaking. Glorfindel blinked. Maedhros turned his unseen stare on the lone mortal in the room, then gave a gloomy sigh.

“And you are insane as well. A pity; I was going to ask you who the fool riding with her was, since the Vanya does not seem to know, but I suppose any answer I would get—”

“That is a good question, actually,” Glorfindel cut in smoothly. “Who is the Elf who accompanied you and...her to Imladris?”

Teresa stared at him. “You honestly don’t know?”

“Why else would he ask?” Maedhros muttered.

Teresa ignored him. “That Elf is—was—is? Well, he’s Legolas.”

“Who?” asked Maedhros. Glorfindel and Erestor just stared, horrified.

“Thranduil’s son has fallen prey to this curse as well?” Erestor said. “That is ill news indeed.”

“Who is Thranduil?” Maedhros demanded.

“Thranduil, son of Oropher, King of what is now called Mirkwood,” Glorfindel replied, rather distractedly. “Have you any idea why he would be coming to Imladris at all?”

“Who, Thranduil?” Teresa asked.

“What? No, Legolas.”

“Erm, he has a message. I think. This version of him might not, though.”

“‘This version’?” Erestor asked, eyebrow raised once more. “What do you mean by ‘this version’? Is there another? And if so—” But he never completed that sentence, for at that moment came a thud and a startled cry from one of the corners of the room. The three Elves and Teresa turned to look—and stared.

For there in the corner, staggering to his feet and rubbing his head ruefully, was yet another Elf—another truly elven-looking Elf.

There was also no sign of how he had come to enter the room.
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Zingenmir

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