This year I have the joy and honor of contributing a promo story to Fangreaders Hall of Fame‘s The Fangreaders Awards, “The Fangies”.
The muse who inspired me, the magnificent and delightful missrissa81, deserves all the
blame credit for this short fic. I would like to thank her, Fairyblood, Jeca, and all the members of The Authority who woman-handle the fanfic world over at the Fangreaders Hall of Fame site for letting me play in their sandbox!!! They are truly some of the nicest ladies you could ever hope to meet.
Now, without further ado, I present:
Godric discovers The Fangies
Godric entered his child’s bar, Fangtasia, and released a long-suffering sigh. He was proud of his progeny, Eric, for he had done extremely well for himself, but seriously, a fangbanger bar? He shook his head in mild bemusement, although he wasn’t exactly surprised. Of course his tall, blond Viking of a child would attract fangbangers. At least it provided meals on heels…assuming one could get past the odor of all the chemicals these particular humans were prone to stuffing into their writhing bodies.
He’d been in the area for less than a week, choosing to spend his unwanted vacation (that his second, Isabel, had all-but bullied him into taking) with his son and Eric’s own child, Pamela.
Godric smirked as he slid into the booth hidden in the darkest corner of the establishment. It was the seating most preferred by both his child and his child’s child . Pam, as she preferred to be called, was a riot. Eric could not have chosen a better female child to accompany him on his voyage through eternity. She was snippy, bitchy, manipulative, greedy, sarcastic, devious, and loyal to a fault. Easily subject to abject boredom, she always had her lovely, cold, well-manicured hand in some sort of project.
One of the look-alike waitresses approached his booth, and placed a warmed bottle of Royalty Blended in front of him, and left. It hadn’t taken the human waitresses long to realize that Godric wanted nothing to do with them beyond their serving abilities. He had no time for the games that humans played, although they could be quite humorous when observed from the sidelines.
This booth, in particular the location of said booth, was one of the few things he actually appreciated in this bar pulsing with desperation and desire. From his position, he could easily survey the “vermin”, as Pam so aptly described the repeat patrons of the club. Their antics were often hilarious, as were their attempts to attract a vampire, any vampire, onto their smelly bodies for the night.
Although he wasn’t as disdainful of these humans as his grandchild was, still, it was hard not to view them all with wry contempt. He knew well the trials and hardships that vampires had to endure before the Great Reveal, and thought these humans even more pathetic for throwing themselves en masse at creatures well-suited to ensuring their painful demise.
He shook his head at the utter absurdity of the situation, and settled himself into the comfortable leather booth. A piece of paper peeping out from behind the cushion caught his attention. Bored, he pulled the paper out, and discovered that it was an old program for some sort of Award ceremony.
He smirked – vampires did love their pomp and circumstance, and Pam was no different. He vaguely recognized the name, “The Fangies”, and remembered Pam being in a biting tizzy about something along those lines last year. He also remembered being rather relieved that Eric was the one having to deal with her. If his remarkable memory served, some strange, drunk and drug-addled human had disrupted the whole thing somehow.
He wearily thumbed through the program between sips of his Blended. Soon it dawned on him that the whole thing made no sense. While he was vaguely familiar with the works of a writer named Charlaine Harris and some tool named Allan Ball who was known for introducing the most impressive, fantastic, well-beloved character in the universe and subsequently killing him off for no good reason whatsoever, he himself had little time for such forms of entertainment.
It seemed he might should investigate this “fanfic” thing much more closely in the future, however. Could this genre of writing cause a security risk? Are these “fic writers” trustworthy? What was their agenda? What did they want? Were they glorified fangbangers who just happened to have a bit more self-respect than the loathsome creatures writhing on the dance floor not twenty feet away? Or were they part-time geniuses hell bent on bettering their small worlds in any way they could? Were they artists, or deviants?
And what was with these odd Award categories? “The Baby Jessica Award ~ Best Fanfic for a New Author” He knew of a young, recently turned vampire named Jessica…perhaps that was the connection? Humm…he pondered. Well, if a writer were a novice at the art, she or he could be considered a “baby”, so…yes, he could somewhat understand that Award name.
“The Longshadow Award ~ Best One-Shot Fic”? Godric hissed quietly. Why in the world would anyone want to immortalize that thieving bastard!? At least he hadn’t been around long, and had met his end accordingly. And…what in the world is a “one-shot”? It had, in fact, only taken one shot (via a stake) to kill that useless miscreant, but what did that have to do with a writer of this “fanfic”?
Godric sensed a mystery afoot. He read on.
“The Newlin Award ~ Best All Human Fic”!? NEWLIN? What the hell? Every vampire worth rising knew of that evil little blood-bag bitch boy. Oh. Ok, that almost made sense…he was, indeed, all human even if he had no humanity left.
Huh…he sincerely respected Mr. Cataliades, so it was appropriate that the “Mr Cataliades Award ~ For Best Series” would be named in his honor, although he did question the sanity in allowing a fairy, of all species, to present it. Each to their own, he though magnanimously.
The Ancient Pythoness Award… He wondered if the Ancient One knew of this Award given in her honor, then scoffed. Of course she did, she saw everything. And it would make sense to gift an Award for an older work that stood the test of time.
Who was Lafayette Reynolds and what had he done to merit an Award given in his honor? And…what is an “alternate universe”? “The Lafayette Reynolds Award ~ Best Alternate Universe Fic” would definitely qualify as a mystery.
Godric sighed. He hated a mystery – they always drove him insane until he solved them. He read on.
“The Jason Stackhouse Award” for a comedy fic was well designated, he thought with a grimace. That boy, from what he had been told by Eric, was a chaotic tornado just waiting to touch down into a soon-to-be unfortunate situation. No one could quite believe Sookie, dear, sweet, bright, witty, intelligent Sookie, could be in any way related to that brother of hers. Pam swore Jason was switched at birth by goblins.
“The Bill Compton Award ~ Best Dark/Angst Fic”…self-explanatory. Bill fucking Compton. If Godric never head that name again, it would be too soon. Naturally a dark, angst fic Award category should be named for him, although Godric did wonder why in the world people writing fiction would freely choose to write of dark, depression subject matter. It’s fiction, he thought. People had the freedom to create happiness, yet chose to create dark drama instead?
He shook his head. The choices humans made truly made no sense to him sometimes.
Ah! There was an Award in his own progeny’s name! “The Eric Northman Award ~ Best Epic Fic” How appropriate! Yes, his Eric was epic indeed! These fics, he wanted to imagine, would be filled with great deeds and impressive battles and intriguing journeys.
“The Sookie Stackhouse Award ~ Best Romance” How very befitting of his child’s beloved fairy. Although he himself had neither time nor inclination for romance, he could well imagine his child’s mate would adore having such a thing named for her.
He laughed, thinking how proud Eric must surely be with having Awards named for both himself and his beloved. Despite his amazing intelligence and pragmatic outlook, Eric could be such a vain peacock sometimes.
“The Adele Stackhouse Award for Reader’s Choice”…readers were allowed to nominate their own choice? Well, that was incredibly democratic, he thought.
Ah, naturally Pam would have an Award named for herself. He snickered. He could well imagine her cold, hard hands involved in choosing the winners of that Award.
A while later, just as Godric was thinking of leaving, Pam decided to join him. Godric allowed her to stand near his table awaiting his attention for several long minutes. He purposefully ignored her because he knew exactly how much it annoyed her, and she did love being annoyed.
Finally he took pity on her and acknowledged her presence.
“What has you in such a contemplative mood tonight, GrandMaker?” Pam gestured toward the seat across from him, and he nodded permission for her to sit.
“It seems you have been busy, my GrandChild. Tell me more about these Fangie Awards.” Godric gestured toward the program in his hands.
Pam preened. The Fangie Awards was her baby from top to bottom. Barring drunk celebrities, this year’s Awards were bound to let her shine, erm, go quite well! Well, they would as soon as she could figure out what in the world was up with that doctor who apparently had no other name.
“Oh, you’ve got last year’s program! This year’s Awards will go even better,” she exclaimed, truly excited to tell her esteemed GrandMaker about her favorite project.
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll collect information about this year’s Awards!” In a blink, she was gone.
Godric sighed. Bitchy Pam was at least entertaining. Excited Pam…a different story altogether. He flagged a waitress for another Blended. It was going to be a long night.
All too soon Pam returned laden with reams of paper filled with notes, ideas, schedules, photos, memos, and sample programs.
This seemed like a great occasion to practice his downtime, he thought, as Pam prattled on about some doctor. Doctor who, he had no idea. Human doctors meant nothing to him.
Suddenly his attention was captured by the name “Callisto”.
“Excuse me, Pam, but why did you just mention Callisto? I thought we were well rid of all maenads by now?”
Pam laughed evilly. “Yes, Maker of my Maker, we are finally rid of those evil beasts, but remember, while they were rather destructive, they also encouraged a deliciously fun time. So, in her honor, I’ve decided to add another category to the Awards: “The Callisto Award ~ Best Written Erotic Fanfic”, and we have some very,” she purred, “interesting submissions this year.”
“Ahh,” Godric replied, his eyes gleaming. He could write a thing or three about erotic activities. “Are there any other new categories of interest?”
“Oh, yes,” Pam exclaimed. “I have introduced quite a few!” She shuffled through her notes with a self-important air. Godric rolled his eyes and sipped his tepid Blended.
“Here we go!” Pam waved a sheet of paper around as if she were waving off flies or fangbangers.
“Let’s see… Ok, because of the furor last year over the use of Newlin’s name, we’ve changed that Award to “The Hoyt Fortenberry Award ~ Best All Human Fanfic.”
“And who is this vaulted Hoyt Fortenberry?”
“He’s a mediocre but harmless oaf who trails around our Jessica like a moose in heat. He is completely human, however, hence the Award name.”
Godric nodded, not too terribly interested, but motioned for Pam to continue. With any luck, he might be able to salvage this night yet.
“Do you remember me telling you about that disgusting little prick, Bill Compton, bragging to some of the vermin about sexcapades with his Maker, Lorena?” Without waiting for his response, she happily continued. “”The Lorena Ball Award ~ Best Oh My God Sex Scene Fanfic” was created to praise a fic with an especially spectacular sex scene.” Pam wiggled in her seat, extremely proud of herself for creating this Award.
Her GrandMaker smirked. Young vampire lust was legendary. True, his interest was vaguely piqued, but he’d never hear the end of it if he told Pam.
“Last year I made a horrid omission. Two of them, actually.” Godric quirked his brow. Pam never admitted any sort of failure. “I completely forgot the most important categories!” She waved her hands near her eyes, trying to stall the gathering red tears from falling. “To remedy this unconscionable omission, I created “The Russell Edgington Award ~ Best Villain in a Fanfic” and “The Nan Flanagan Award ~ Best Villainess in a Fanfic” Awards.”
She waited expectantly for Godric’s enthusiastic approval. A few moments later, she started tapping her nails, certain his appreciation would come just any second. Finally, he stated quite blandly, “Well, it is good that you have rectified this omission of yours. Are there any other new Awards?”
Miffed, Pam scanned her notes, then snapped her fingers for a Royalty Blended.
“I’ve added “The Bubba Award ~ Most Original Plot for a Fanfic”, “The Preston Pardloe Award ~ Best Mystery Fanfic”, “The Charles Twining Award ~ Best Action Fanfic”, and “The Alcide Herveaux Award ~ Best Were Fanfic”, which are all fairly self-explanatory.”
Godric chuckled. If he’d known that irritating her would have hurried this along, he’d have done so earlier. Later he might ask her for more information regarding the kinds of action these “fic writers” portrayed in their stories, but not now. He also wandered why in seven hells anyone would write a story mainly featuring Weres. They were a smelly, ill-tempered lot, although some could be quite loyal…like a dog. He struggled not to snort.
Pam continued. “It was suggested that I create “The Dr Ludwig Award ~ Best Novella/ Novelette Length Fanfic” to appease the small doctor, and so I did. Reluctantly.”
This time Godric didn’t bother holding in his reaction, which helped thaw the still-miffed Pam.
In a somewhat better mood, she added, ” The Ginger Award ~ Best Beta”…I created that one to honor the lovely, hard-working people who help the writers so much.” Pam’s dreamy expression made Godric wonder if Pam considered herself a “writer” who was “helped” by one of these Beta persons. He just about bet Pam could describe in lurid dental exactly how a Beta tasted.
Recalling her surroundings, Pam unnecessarily cleared her throat and quickly described the next Award.
“”The The Fangtasia Award ~ Best SVM/True Blood Fan Site” is new, too. Its mission is to provide recognition for fan-run websites which give us the latest fandom news, pics, updates, and more. Apparently these websites are highly valued by both writers and readers of fanfics.”
Godric nodded encouragingly. Pam had indeed given a lot of thought and effort to these Awards, and she did deserve recognition for her work, even if the whole concept of “fanfic” eluded him.
He considered his words for a few moments and delighted in teasing his GrandChild by making her wait.
Finally relenting, Godric spoke.
“I am very proud of you, Pamela. You have obviously put much hard work and thought into these Awards of yours. While I have no prior knowledge of this form of written art, I am curious about the ceremony itself. Would you happen to have a spare ticket handy for your 2000-year-old GrandMaker?”
For the first time in her centuries of undeath, Pam squeeee’d. Loudly.
**All mistakes are mine, but I hope you liked it!**