| Current mood: |  amused |
It burnses us, my precious! ;_;
Title: Guardian, Condemned (This is just the prologue. There's five more chapters of this tripe.)
Author: Iztayul Tepes
Fandom: Genso Suikoden II
This fic has since been removed from its original domain, so I'm mainly ripping on it for posterity's sake. I am thoroughly convinced that the author wrote it as some kind of sick joke.
SCORES:
PLOT: 0/5 (It's a rapefic. With GORUDO. SQUICK.)
CHARACTERIZATION: -1/5 (To quote a friend of mine, "I don't think that fat-old-corrupt-politician-on-blue-uniformed-bishounen-captain action mesh too well. But I could just be closeminded." Also, WeepyUke!Matilda Knights make Baby Jeebus convert to Buddhism.)
TECHNICAL: 5/5 (Unlike a lot of badfic I've seen, the author in question actually has a very good writing style. Too bad she wastes it.)
YE TAEK THAE HIGH ROOD AND AE'LL TAEK THAE LOO ROOD: 100/5 ("...And ae'll be in Scotland afoer yeh...")
Suikoden's not exactly an obscure fandom, but it is sort of cultish and limited to a close-knit group of fans, for the most part. At least it was that way until the third installment hit the shelves. Now I happen to like Suikoden III, even if IMO it isn't the strongest part of the series, but Suikoden II is by far my favorite RPG, ever. There's a lot of viable basis for both het and slash pairings in these games, simply because with a few exceptions none of the characters have a defined canon relationship with anyone (not that that's ever stopped some people, but whatever floats your boat).
This particular author started writing fic for the Suikoden fandom about a year ago and gained enough of a following to start a blog-based RP. At first I hadn't paid much attention since she writes about Suikoden III's Southern Defense Force - to be honest, those guys are just not slashable and I'm more of a Yuber/Albert fan at any rate.
But a few months ago, a couple of people started to write parodies of her work. Lovely, lovely wank ensued, to the effect of the author shrieking and whining that it was OMG LIEK SO MEEN!!!11111!!!!WTF!!!11!!PIE!!1 to mock the author and that parody is plagiarism. Among other things.
I'd read the parodies and thought they were hilarious. So I went to read this author's NC-17 fic out of morbid curiosity.
It's like reading a bad romance novel. Angst. And lots of rape. I don't just mean the sexual assault, either.
The fic opens up with a short conversation between Two Random NPC's, conducted in this fashion:
"What tis i', mon? Why the loong face?"
The Blue Knight cast a tentative look over his shoulder at Lord Gorudo's throne room door. "...The Captain's been in there for hoors."
"Aye, an' now I've got ta tak yer shift." The Red Knight cringed. "Lucky me," he muttered sarcastically to his friend.
Sir Miklotov, Captain of the Blue Knights of Matilda, was very strong-willed and often easily provoked. Spending long hours with Lord Gorudo, whose temper was twice as hot, was not a good sign. The soldier didn't look forward to the explosion sure to ensue; Miklotov had torn down doors before...unlike the gentle, mild-mannered captain of his own platoon, Sir Camus of the Red Knights.
His companion ought to be glad to clear out of the way, but the Blue Knight didn't seem any happier to be leaving the dangerous post than the Red was to be staying. "...Mind if I stick aroond?" he asked.
"Oh, I dinno..." the Red Knight said hesitantly. "No' tha' I want ta be here whan he comes oot or anythin', but if I let you tak ma shift..."
Now, other than the fact that I hate dialect, seeing as it makes this dialogue difficult as hell to read in the first place... there's no Scotland in Suikoden. There isn't even a Scottish equivalent. So what crack was the author smoking that made her think this was a good idea? I'm sorry, but when the beginning two or three lines of the fic don't make much sense, you're in for some trouble. x_x
And sure enough, at the opening of the actual chapters... we have OOC alert.
"...Miklotov? Did ya hear me, Mikkie? HEY, MIK!" For once, Camus had raised his usually soft, effeminate voice.
1) I'll give her some credit and admit that Camus is somewhat effeminate. But he's certainly not softspoken.
2) ...Mikkie? *sporfle*
Miklotov looked up sharply from the table where he'd been staring at the lunch he was sharing with the captain of the Red Knights. He cast his companion a truly apologetic glance, and looked away again quickly. Each time he met Camus's eyes, he felt like a dirty, lying piece of shite. Camus was so innocent, so trusting. Miklotov felt terribly guilty. Each time Camus asked "Are ye listening?" or "Are ya feelin' okey?" and the captain of the Blue Knights answered "Aye," he was lying. And he hated himself for it. But he didn't have any choice.
"...Are you okey?" Camus asked predictably.
"Aye," Miklotov said evenly, showing no emotion. He was getting better at it every day--stifling his feelings, smothering his emotions, drowning his heart. It was killing him.
"Ya seem sa...distant," Camus pouted.
Angstangstityangstangst. Hopefully the author will explain what "Mikkie's" terrible secret is. And hopefully it won't be a lameassed excuse for OMG HAWT SEX0RZ!!11
...Bah, who'm I kidding?
But wait, we're not done! Here comes some characterization, and a never missed opportunity for random angst. In which Camus suddenly mind-melds with the Lifetime channel.
He used ta be sa warm, Camus reminisced. He had been close to Miklotov for a long time, and even in the beginning, when they'd first met, he'd felt an instant bond with his fellow knight. Miklotov was always kind and generous to him. He'd opened up and shared things with him, once they'd gotten closer. Camus knew things about the captain of the Blue Knights that would surprise anyone who knew him less. Like the fact that Mikkie loved opera--a rare luxury for a soldier--and the fact that he could quote almost any poem of Byron's.
Byron's...? AUGH. CULTURAL ANACHRONISM = BIG NO-NO. That's a special pet peeve of mine. I hate it when a Final Fantasy character makes a mention that they're reading F.Scott Fitzgerald or something. Come on, try to stay true to the fic. I know "it's just fanfiction!" and lots of things can happen. But that defies about six laws, most of them scientific. >_<
Shorthand version: If your world is not the setting of your fanfiction, don't make references to something of your world in that fic. *splurt*
Camus felt like crying. If Miklotov did have a lover, Camus knew that his fantasy would be over, and that his friend would only push him away, leaving him alone for the first time since they'd met.
This author always writes her ukes the same way. Weepy, wimpy and so utterly stereotypical it makes me want to vomit. All her fics are like this; this is just the worst of the lot. And honestly, I don't understand why. She's got a good writing style, but she wastes it on writing that's no better than my sister's trashy romance novels. T_T
Oh, but it gets worse... we move on to obese, elderly, corrupt politician lusting after "Mikkie's" hawt bod.
Gorudo watched from a window high above the castle courtyard. God, but Sir Miklotov was beautiful! He watched beads of perspiration glide gently down the strong back and muscled chest, cling to the silky raven hair...and grew hard at the sight. He wanted to be down there, close enough to smell the sweat glistening on Miklotov's firm body. Then he wanted to--
Hey! Why no'? Am I in charge o' this army, or ain't I?
Gorudo slapped a chubby palm on the stone windowsill at his sudden inspiration. With an almost maniacal laugh, he turned from the beckoning view and began trudging down the steps that led to the open practice yard.
Ouch. Ouch. It burns! ><
(For full effect of squickage, scroll down this list until you get to Gorudo's entry, and look at the pictures. Dirty old man. Ew. EW.)
So... Gorudo wants to molest0r Miklotov. Got it. I don't like it, but I got it. Shivering and naked, we move along... to an eyeful of purple prose. *head meets desk*
In battle, he could block all else out of mind--even Camus's beautiful face, his sunset-colored red hair, his sky-shaming blue eyes...
I should note, by the way, that even to an adept at the English language THE FOLLOWING PASSAGE MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE.
Miklotov felt sick in his stomach. It was a sick situation, regardless of how disgusted he was by Gorudo's physical appearance. Even if the leader of the Matilda army had been a ravishing young youth, under the circumstances Miklotov probably would have cringed at the touch anyway, knowing how he felt about...another. But how could he slip his arm away, when the fat man was holding onto him so tightly? His superior, a huge older man, who should have by all rights played the part of the man, wanting to be in a lady's position for the moment! Revolting!
So. Gorudo's grabbed Mikkie by the arm, and drags him off into a corner for some alone time. I'll give points to the author for
at least not making this scene erotic. But the problem is that it's unintentionally funny:
"I noticed," Gorudo said, growling low in Miklotov's ear, in what he must have thought was a sexy tone. "He's made you quite wet, I see." He had Miklotov alone now around the side of the building, and pressed him suddenly against the stone wall of the castle. The rock scratched Miklotov's bare back painfully, but he didn't flinch--he knew (from experience, unfortunately) that the old knight liked nothing better than to hear a young man squeal.
Gorudo pressed his body against Miklotov, and the captain gasped--not from surprised pleasure as the commander surmised, but from suffocation under all the weight. "An' seeing you wet has made me also verra het," he rasped, pressing his fleshy face against Miklotov's. He sniffed in, breathing the sweat he craved, and took a lick down the side of Miklotov's face.
Am I the only person who thinks of the movie Deliverance there? Also, if Gorudo doesn't want anyone finding out, why the hell would he be feeling Miklotov up on the training grounds? Did it just not occur to him that in a training session the trainees are probably going to seek out the captain if they have a problem?
You know, Gorudo's an unscrupulous bastard, but he isn't stupid. Augh. Dammit.
Stupid!Gorudo makes a stupid comment, to which WimpyUke!Mikkie points out that it probably isn't prudent to drop his drawers and do the horizontal bop in front of the entire fucking regiment. Amazed by his display of common sense, Gorudo decides to save the hawt sex0r for later that evening, WeepyUke!Mikkie angsts some more, and the chapter ends.
He did not look forward to this night. "Efter dinner" meant that Gorudo's breath would be horrible. And Miklotov wasn't sure if throwing his head back in mock ecstasy was going to work for much longer--especially when he didn't cry out, and he never came, no matter how Gorudo would take him.
Aside from the fact that not all people scream out hockey scores when they have orga---oh, just forget it. There are too many glaring nonsensical issues in this fic without bothering with nitpicky details. /sarcasm
On to the next chapter, in which Weepy!Camus is so concerned that Angsty!Mikkie is cheating on him with another man, he tests him by asking him for a dinner. After a lot of convoluted wanky passive-aggressive "oh but I don't deserve his love!" inner conflict, he accepts.
Camus led Miklotov out of the commons area and down the hall. He tried not to walk too fast, although he was terribly eager. He wanted this dinner to last forever, if only it could be so. Miklotov had been in his room before, but usually only to call him for duty or to chat for a few moments. Never had they shared a meal in such private space where no one could possibly see or hear them. He just knew it was going to be magical.
I'm not sure how magic would enter into this fic anywhere, but whatever.
The Red Knight was at his side, walking with him across the room to the beautifully set table. As he drew near his chair, Miklotov rushed to assist him, pulling the seat out almost regally. Camus blushed again and smiled, feeling lighter than air. Miklotov was so sweet to him--the perfect gentleman. Camus took his seat and Miklotov slid it in for him, a hand resting for just a moment on his back before the Blue Knight went to take his own chair.
Shall we dance, milady?
There's chapter after chapter of this, resolved by OMG TEH HAWT SEX0RZ between Miklotov and Camus, of course, because that's generally the way most of her fics resolve themselves. I'm not even going to comment on the inherent mind-numbing awfulness of this story, save to let you know that for the sake of your sanity you'd be better off reading something like I Want to Have a Tentacle Enema, which was at least written to be awful on purpose.
