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The Fight for Freedom; American Girl...Supposedly
Topic Started: Sep 9 2008, 12:37 AM (347 Views)
MackenzieW
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Resident Time Lady
Title: The Fight for Sanity.
Author: MackenzieW
Genre: MST/Humor/A Somewhat Crossover
Text based on: "The Fight for Freedom" by Riley Clearwater
Characters: Mackenzie and Gang, House, Voldemort, a cut-out of James McAvoy, James "Jefferson", "Felicity Merriman", "Edward Merriman", "Ben Davidson"
Summary: For Mackenzie's birthday, Voldemort goes into her baby--the American Girl section--for a story. He finds one that started out as a Liberty's Kids crossover but has evolved into an OOC-mess.
Warnings: Okay, I'll level with you guys. This isn't horribly written and this author has done considerably more research than many authors. However, no one can identify the canon characters so as a fanfiction, it fails.

The Fight for Sanity

The Remote Room of Doom looked oddly cheery. It was usually drab, gray and shadowy. It was still gray and shrouded in shadows, but there were multicolor streamers everywhere. Disney characters, often only covering a spot on the wall above one bed, were strewn across the room. All held “Happy Birthday!” signs. A cut out of James McAvoy also stood in the room, holding a “I’m your present” sign. How the men of the Remote Room of Doom procured a James McAvoy cut out or if there was a cut out of the Scottish actor remained unknown.

However, Mackenzie was not that cheery. She was too nervous. It was her birthday everyone was celebrating and she was still awaiting Voldemort’s “gift.” It was going to be a badfic, she knew, and she could already hazard a guess as to the section. The men thought they were going to be handling a Lord of the Rings fanfiction, like always but she knew better. She wasn’t that attached to the fandom, only vehemently opposed to Mary Sues and the fact that Sean Astin deserved at least an Oscar nomination for his work as Samwise Gamgee in the Return of the King movie.

Voldemort entered with Wormtail cowering behind him. Lucius Malfoy also graced the room with his presence. He was holding a red velvet box. “Happy birthday, blonde one,” Voldemort greeted Mackenzie.

“Thank you, but you know I’m not the only blond person in the room,” Mackenzie said, pointing at Quatre.

“Right,” Voldemort continued, “as is my custom, you all have to now spork a story in honor of Mackenzie’s fifteenth…”

“Twenty-second.”

“Birthday. I know the birthday girl is familiar with this story as she reviewed it long ago. And she panned it.”

“Oh, not this one!” Mackenzie moaned.

“What, you haven’t panned many stories to know which one he is talking about?” Erik asked.

“No,” she responded. “I’ve just had a feeling he would pick one story from the American Girl section since it’s my baby. I didn’t think he would pick the bad crossover one!”

Voldemort laughed. “Glad to see you approve of my choice, Birthday Girl.”

“Bite me.”

“Anyway, Jareth sends his regards but regrets he cannot be here with you this time. He said he doesn’t want to see the inside of the theater until you return to sporking Two Souls, One Heart or whatever that drivel is called.” He motioned to Malfoy, who opened the box. Inside was a tiara. “He did send a tiara for you to wear. Oh, and I have arranged for a guest sporker because I am…”

“A merciful master,” the others intoned. After placing the tiara on Mackenzie’s head, the threesome left. The others were about to debate over the mystery guest when the siren went off, bathing the room and decorations in an odd green light.

“We’ve got badfic sign,” Mackenzie yelled over the racket. She motioned to the bookshelf, sliding to the right to reveal the dank hallway leading to the theater. They all trooped through, Quatre carrying the James McAvoy cut out. In the theater sat a very familiar guest sporker.

“House!” Erik and Mackenzie exclaimed. He nodded, twirling his cane.

“Happy birthday, Mackenzie,” he said. “Now let’s tear some story apart!”
Mac: Gentlemen and cardboard cut out of my latest celebrity crush, I give you The Fight for Freedom by Riley Clearwater.
House: Yeah, why is there a cut out in the room and who is it?
Mac: It’s James McAvoy. Somehow the guys got it for me.
House: Ahh…


Ok, so this is my fanfic about two stories in one...
Remus: So, you couldn’t decide which story to write so you smashed both together and hoped something would come out of it?
Erik: I think she means two fandoms…you know, the definition of a crossover?


Liberty's Kids and the American Girl series of Felicity Merriman...
House: Wait a minute, is this going to be a poorly written historical fiction?
Quatre: Oh come on, we’re still recovering from Rumors!
there's no category for the American Girl series...
Sai: Wait, Mac, isn’t that your baby?
Mac: When this was written, it wasn’t created yet. American Girl is barely two years old as a category. Maybe only just a year old.
Sai: Oh.


so i put this here,
House: Umm, where’s here?
Mac: The Liberty’s Kids section. However, she has moved it to the American Girl section since.


even tho it would fit better with Felicity stuff...
Mac: No. No it wouldn’t.

but i had NO IDEA
Erik: That the first person pronoun is supposed to be capitalized!
how to make up a new category...
Mac: That’s because you first have to write enough stories, like three to five, to show that there is interest in the category then e-mail the admins at Fanfiction.net saying there is interest and then, if they deem it worthy enough, they will create the section.


so sorry if this confuses you at the moment...
House: Yeah, anyone else having “For Love of an Elf” ellipses flashbacks?
Erik, Octavius and Mac: Yes.


so a few things...
Octavius: Oh, this should be rich. *Rolls eyes*

1. James, for the sake of the story, is the son of Thomas Jefferson...
All: What?
Mac: He’s an orphan!


and for the sake of the story, they live in Williamsburg...
Mac: No, they lived in Monticello. Jefferson was only in Williamsburg when meeting with the House of Burgesses, which was often dissolved during this time.

and i know that Jefferson did not have a son named James...but lets pretend...
Mac: Let’s also pretend that Thomas Jefferson didn’t marry Martha in 1772 and that he fathered James around the same time he entered the College of William and Mary at the age of 16.
Sai: Research, author, can be your friend. George Washington would’ve been a more logical choice.

and yes, James is exactly like the one from LK...
Quatre: Except not…

just now he has a family and instead of working in Franklin's Printing Press...he works in one at Williamsburg
All: Ahh…moron.

2. In future chapters...it will be just like LK...
Mac: Stop it with the damn ellipses!

different events will occur...ones leading up to the Revolutionary war and ones during the war...i hope this clears ppl up...now...just like my "England" story under Ella Enchanted book...im gonna introduce myself to you all b/c i dont want to be known as an author but as a person just like you all...so you all know what im about and why it might take me some time to update...blah blah blah...so here it goes...
Octavius: Oh crap…and I’m not just talking about the grammar.

I'm 18 years old...
All (flatly): Woo.

senior in high school in eastern PA...AWESOME STATE!
Mac: Um, no, that honor belongs to New York. Nice try.

and im totally psyched about the EAGLES GOING TO THE SUPERBOWL BABY!!
Mac: Spoiler alert….they lost.

take that everyone! boo yah! anyway...im going to Indiana University of Pennsylvania in the fall to major in Interior design and minor in U.S. History...
Mac: The hell? She wants to study it and she can’t even HONOR it?
House (poking Erik): Ask me if I care.
Erik: Do you…?
House: No.


i want to do stuff on the Revolutionary War period...
Octavius: And give my professors’ heart attacks over my atrocious disregard for grammar.

my favorite books are Ella Enchanted and harry potter...
Quatre: Fighting the urge to fall asleep…

fav. movies...The Patriot,
Rumor Sporkers: Oh Jonas…

Eurotrip, Tommy Boy, The Goonies, among others...i love Liberty's Kids...obviously...and Friends!!
Sai: Look, you may think that we need to know you as a person but this is ridiculous! When you post, we judge you as an author not as a person.
Erik: Usually.


I swim for my school's swim team...this is my 6th year of swimming competitively...i love to read, hang out with friends, shop at American Eagle, listen to music including classical stuff from movie soundtracks like Nicholas Nickelby, Harry Potter, Peter Pan (2003), and The Patriot, listen to my french radio station...
All: Blah…blah…blah…
Remus: NO ONE CARES!


i just finished my French 5 class...ive been taking french since 7th grade and i love it...my favorite places in the world are Colonial Williamsburg, England, and France...
House: Bets on whether or not this chick’s gone to the last two countries!

and i guess thats it for now...if you ahve any questions...feel free to ask me! ENJOY EVERYONE! oh, and REVIEW PLEASE!
Erik: Is it over?
All: Thank Joe Jonas, YES!


Virginia Gazette - Foreign and Domestick
House: Look, she’s being all cute by using the antiquated spelling.
All: Aww.


THIS DAY
Mac: Today? My birthday? What?

Extract of a letter from Boston, Massachusetts
December 17, 1773

“Local citizens have their own solution for the three British merchant ships stalled in Boston Harbor with their unwanted cargo of East India Tea Company tea. Disguised as Indians some 60 members of the Sons of Liberty boarded the three vessels one-by-one to dump their cargo of tea into the salt water of the Harbor. Unconfirmed reports spread that local activist John Hancock, Boston's richest resident, actually led the raiding party. What is certain is that the local populace enjoyed the event that began around 6 o'clock in the evening, the crowd cheering from Griffin's Wharf as 342 chests of tea were dumped. When the raiding party withdrew there was not tea remaining on any of the three ships but not one British sailor was injured in the attack, and the tea was the only cargo aboard ship that was destroyed.

“The importance of this single act of rebellion was not lost on the moderate politician John Adams who said, "The people should never rise without doing something to be remembered, something notable and striking. This destruction of the tea is so bold, so daring, so firm, intrepid and inflexible, and it must have important consequences." A more radical patriot leader Josiah Quincy, Jr. has predicted that the event now being called the "Boston Tea Party" will lead "to the most trying and terrific struggle this country ever saw."”
Octavius: Point?
Erik: Either a nice touch or a way to skip doing real exposition.
Mac: Here’s what we need to know: Everybody’s pissed off in Boston. However, someone should say who wrote the damn letter or else it’s plagiarizing.


I sat back and stared at the freshly printed Gazette
Sai: It’s just called the Gazette, because there aren’t many of those around.

in my hands; the yellowish paper still damp from the black ink. My mind was bursting with questions and I knew they should never be asked.
Mac: Some journal…oh wait, I think this is told in first person from Felicity’s perspective.

What would father
All: Capital!

think if I began to ponder on the details of England’s disapproval of the Colonies?
House: Umm, that you are concerned for your affairs?

Surely he would be furious to even know I set foot inside the Printing and Post Office to speak with James about the news for the day.
All: Why?
Octavius: It’s called being friendly!


“A Williamsburg lady need not know the on-goings of uproars in fellow Colonies,” my mother would say while father
Mac: Would…

nodded
Quatre: Present tense.

and added,
Sai: Present tense AND colon.

“She should focus on growing to be a formidable lady.”
Erik: New paragraph. And wouldn’t a lady have to know something of what was going on in the world around her?
Mac: A woman would be concerned as it could affect her family and husband.


“Felicity?” I looked up to see who had voiced my name - nay, who had caressed it.
Remus: Hold on, I’ll pass out the sappy sickness bags.
Erik: Bless you.


James stood by the printing press smirking at my bewilderment. His blond hair was pulled back with a black ribbon and ended about an inch below the nape of his neck. His tanned face showed signs of his hard work as an apprentice.
Mac: Okay, how would his face get tanned working in a PRINT shop? Maybe if he was working on his father’s farm, but a PRINT shop?

His lean figure and muscles demonstrated his good health. His clothes, oh my, his clothes were fit for a prince.
House: Didn’t think Thomas Jefferson was that rich.

After all, James was the son of Mr. Thomas Jefferson, a member of the House of Burgesses and a favorite among Williamsburg’s townspeople.

I’ve secretly fancied James for some time now,
Mac: Wait, wait, wait…Felicity was nine in 1773. She was stuck in “I want a horse” mode, not “OMG HAWT!” mode.

but because my parents are against the idea of going to war with England
Sai: Call me crazy, but in 1773, how many people actually wanted to go to war with England?
Mac: Not many. I mean, they knew that if they could get the Intolerable Acts repealed, they could still work things out. The Boston Tea Party was done by radicals.


and becoming a separate country,
Mac: No, Edward Merriman is a Patriot. Felicity’s grandfather is the Loyalist.

it is not possible for me to voice my fancy until the flames of revolution have been extinguished. Mr. Jefferson and my father are rivals at the moment, my father on the King’s side and Mr. Jefferson on the future America’s side.
Octavius: You’re repeating yourself! We got that already!

I, myself, am on the America side as well,
Mac: Gasp canon! Though actually Felicity agonized over her decision.

but nay, I may not voice that opinion either, due to the obvious. James knows of my thoughts, but is smart enough to keep them quiet.

I smiled at James and set the partially dry newsprint down on a pile forming on a table next to the printing press. “Well, father will like this,” I said with a small laugh, motioning towards the drying Gazettes.

“He means well,” James commented, continuing with his work.

“Aye, that he does!” I whispered with such loathing I could feel my fists clench.
Mac: Good bye, canon!
Erik: I may have only seen the movie—which I was force to watch—but I know Felicity is close to her father.


“Does he not see the limitations King George is putting on us? I don’t believe I’ve heard him complain once about the fact that he must pay extra for the English tea shipments. Is he not upset about that?”

“He’s just loyal to his country and his king, Felicity,” James preached to me. “After all, he did serve the king as a red coat for fifteen years.”
Remus: Wait, wait, wait…I think this is backwards! I think it would be Felicity defending her father while James curses him.
Mac: If either were in character. I’m holding a candlelight vigil. (Holds up a candle.)


“Dash the red coats!” my fifteen-year-old ignorance showing through.
Octavius: They’ve upped her age.
Mac: Oh crap…
Erik: Bad romance ahoy!


“They’re the reason Boston is so divided. The Boston Massacre set that town’s colonials on fire. No one up there trust the British, why should we?”
Octavius: Why are you bringing up ancient history?
Mac: And pretty much every colony at this point believed it was just Massachusetts’ problem, even those who would like to cut ties with England.


James’s mouth turned up in a crooked smile, exposing a few white teeth and dimples. “What?” I demanded. He always confused me. What was so funny about the Boston Massacre?
Remus: The fact that for a massacre, only five people died and they actually provoked the soldiers who were never ordered to fire?

“You surprise me Felicity Merriman,” he said simply before turning back to his printing press just as Mr. Sanders, the Printing and Post Office owner,
Remus: Is that the name of the place or is she just randomly capitalizing those letters?
Erik: Dunno.


walked through the front door. I hid my smile and greeted Mr. Sanders.

“My dear Felicity!” he said cheerfully. “How does your family fare this fine morning?”

“They are fine, thank you sir. My father sent me to buy some ink from you for the shop. He seems to be running low and the next shipment shall not arrive for another week,” I replied in an equally jovial tone.
House: I think a print shop would probably buy its ink from the shop, not the other way around.

Mr. Sanders was one of the nicest men in town. Not a small fellow, Mr. Sanders reminded me somewhat of St. Nicholas with his round tummy and white beard.
Mac: Wait…while there was an idea of Father Christmas in the colonies, the idea of St. Nicholas looking like our modern version of Santa Claus was not introduced until “A Visit From St. Nick” was posted.

“Well then, let’s not keep Mr. Merriman waiting,” he exclaimed and walked behind the front counter where a row of shelves held supplies such as paper, quills, and stamps.
House: Thank Jonas those Stamp Acts were repealed, right?
Remus: Yes, but let’s not mention that.


The ink was in a small basket near the bottom of the row. “How about ten packages? That should hold Edward Merriman until his shipment gets here…if it gets here.”

“Sir?”

“Well, from what I hear, Boston Harbor will be closed down as punishment for the Tea Party,” he whispered to me,
Mac: And is that going to affect trade elsewhere than Boston Harbor? Somebody tell me!

happy to pass on some gossip. Mr. Sanders was a key member in the loop of information
Sai: Well, he did own a printing press. I’m sure that helped.

and he surely enjoyed the attention he received from the town because of it.

“Peyton Randolph said the same thing to me when I passed his home this morning on my way here,” added James.
Octavius: Now let me stick in the name of a historical person I’ve heard about while in Williamsburg to sound credible…

“Sounds like this might last a while from what he told me.”

“Better let your father know, Miss Felicity. We can’t have him run low on ink and count on me to always have some in stock,” suggested Mr. Sanders.
Quatre (Mr. Sanders): Especially since he stocks me.

“Yes, thank you. How much do I owe you Mr. Sanders?” I asked, pulling out my coin purse.

“Six pounds.” I passed him the money, put the ink packages in my basket, and turned for the door.

“Oh! Miss Felicity!” cried Mr. Sanders. I spun around and motioned for him to continue. “My wife asked that you would attend our son’s sixteenth birthday ball on Saturday. Here, I have an invitation for you.”
House: A ball? It’s colonial America, not upper-crust England.
Mac: They still had parties.


He passed me the folded parchment, bade me farewell, and headed into the back room to get back to work.

I eyed the invitation and reminisced about Mr. Sanders’s son, Nathan. You would think the son of the nicest man in town would be sweeter than the honey they sell in the market.
Mac: Argh…
House: What?
Erik: Mac hates sporking stories where it’s clear the author could be good if they put some more work and research into it.
House: Ahh.


Not Nathan Sanders. That boy was insufferable. He’s been after me since I was twelve and I punched him in the nose for saying I was a girly-girl.
Erik: Everybody, we’ve got a tomboy.
Quatre: I don’t think “girly-girl” would be an insult in colonial times.


I always tried to avoid him at all costs, but this time I couldn’t refuse. Mr. and Mrs. Sanders have always been kind to me and as a noble lady,
Mac: You’re the daughter of a merchant! You’re the merchant class, not nobility!

I needed to return the favor and accept their invitation.
Octavius: Oh woe is me! I must attend a ball honoring someone I don’t like. Oh woe!
Quatre: Fear not, James will probably be there and everything will be ALL better.


I looked up to James. He was working on the press again. He set another sheet aside before speaking up. “I was invited as well.
Quatre: Knew it!
Remus: Crap, now we’re going to have to suffer through the dance of twu wuv.


Although, I’m not too sure I want to celebrate the birth of a boy I don’t enjoy.”

“You must! You cannot leave me alone with him!” I cried. He started to chuckle, a low laugh that made my stomach squirm.
*All clutch bags tightly.*

“It would be rather funny if he was hanging on you all night. Perhaps I shall go…”

“James Jefferson, you are intolerable!” I cried before storming out of the Printing and Post Office and onto the dusty paths of Duke of Gloucester street.
Mac: And end chapter one! Break?
Voldemort: NO!
*All whimper. Voldemort laughs.*


Okay, so here's the new chapter...well, im glad some of you like this...but i guess i need to explain more...
All: Ya think?

1. in addition to the other explainations...Felicity is older in my stories...Erik: Don’t you think you should’ve said this in the first place?

for the sake of 9yr olds dont fall in love too often

2. Mr. Merriman is going to be a loyalist...
Erik: So this is an alternative universe?
Mac: You want to know the best AU’s?
Erik: The ones where you can still see canon?
Mac: Exactly.


to kinda keep to the Liberty Kids theme...even tho
Mac: T-H-O-U-G-H!

Felicity isnt really a loyalist like Sarah is...
Octavius: Make up your mind. You first tell us this isn’t much of a Liberty’s Kids story but now you want it so that Felicity is like Sarah.
Mac: Which explains Felicity’s father being a soldier and her thinking she is nobility.


but this is also to create some problems Felicity must overcome...prolly will play out better in future chapters...you'll see
House: Hopefully we won’t.


3. im trying to keep this story historically correct...so if things dont match up with either stories, it's b/c its supposed to seem more like historical fact...
Mac: But you’ve already blown that by having James as Jefferson’s son.


and if i get things wrong, let me know...
House: You got things wrong.


but make sure ur right before you tell me im retarded
Mac: I usually do.


and when i looked stuff up on COLONIAL WILLIAMSBURG's site,
Erik: Stop yelling at us! Colonial Williamsburg should not be your only site. Mac, when you write your stories how many sites to you go to?
Mac: Quite a few.


i was remiss in my duties as a good reader
All: Huh?


ok, so i think thats it...if you have more questions...give em to me!
enjoy all...thanks for reviewing...please do so again...
RiLeY


P.S. i didnt proof read this chapter...
Quatre: No, no, no, you should always proof your story before posting!


im too tired right now so ill do it later...
Sai: If you’re too tired to do it, then go to bed, proof it and then post.


if you find incorrect grammar or incomplete words...sorry
All: Oh boy.


Chapter Two – Father’s General Store
House: Look setting!
Erik: I think it’s the chapter title.
House: Damn…I wanted to get her on that!


Duke of Gloucester street is the main road in Williamsburg and, likewise, the busiest. Even as the winter solstice approaches, villagers bustle in and out of the various stores and taverns.
Octavius: Umm, why is this chapter in the present tense?
Others: No clue.


The building to the right of the Printing and Post Office, Dubois Grocer, is especially busy. Mrs. Dubois must have had her baby last night; evident by the number of ladies swarming the steps of the shop and greeting Mr. Dubois with their congratulations.

I smile and continue on my way, away from Mr. Dubois’s Grocery Store, towards my father’s general store. My silk covered shoes
Mac: Jeez, if it’s December…In Virginia, it does get cold there and would be snowy. I think silk would get ruined.

leave footprints in the frozen dirt scattered on the street. Every once in a while, a slight breeze would slip up my skirts, igniting my instinct to shiver. Despite my woolen cloak, seven petticoats, and woolen stockings, the blustery weather still bit at my person.
Octavius: But I was still going to wear my silk covered shoes!

Oh! How I despise the winter season.

Crossing Colonial Street, I can see Mr. Tucker exiting the Prentis Store, another general store like my father’s. Mr. Prentis specializes in goods manufactured in the colonies.
Mac: And a LOT of paper goods and stuff that smells.
House and Erik: Oh yes…we remember that store.


Father imports many of his goods from England; however, he does sell colonial made furniture and groceries. Mr. Tucker lives across the street from us on Palace Street. Given that he is for independence, he does not favor father very much, yet he is kind to father
Sai: Sweetie, you’ll want to capitalize the word “father.”

and the rest of my family. His daughter, Mary
All: Comma.

is my most faithful friend and companion. We do almost everything together.
Mac: So, I’m guessing Mary is this universe’s Elizabeth? Though one thing about Felicity and Elizabeth’s relationship was how they were able to prove the Loyalists and Patriots could be friends.

“Good Morning Miss Felicity!” called out Mr. Tucker while tipping his three-cornered hat in greeting.

“Good Morning
Gertrude: Ack! Morning does NOT need to be capitalized and you need a comma. Oh, wish Mackenzie a “Happy Birthday” for me.
Mac: What happened?
Quatre: Gertrude says “Happy Birthday.”
Mac: Cool.
Sai: You two don’t share a birthday?
Mac: No. Hers is July 10th.


Mr. Tucker,” I said as I hurried to catch up to him. He bowed his head slightly when I reached him and I returned it with a curtsy. He motioned for me to continue down Duke of Gloucester street with him. “Sir, how does Mary fair today?” I asked about my friend as we continued our walk. She had been ill with a slight cold for the past two days and I was worried for her health.
All: Aww.

“Her health improves dear child. I have no doubt that she will be out riding her horse within the hour.
Mac: Oh please, please keep Penny OUT of this. Please.

She asked for you yesterday, but my wife did not want to endanger your health as well.”

“That was thoughtful of Mrs. Tucker. I’ve truly missed Mary these past few days and I will do my best to stop by your home after midday,” I told him, hoping he would not object.
House: Oh do. You know you want to.

“No, I’m afraid that will not do,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back in a stance of authority. “But,” he started. I looked up expectantly before he continued, “I, and I’m sure my wife and Mary, would much rather you come by for the midday meal.
Mac: That should’ve been “I would much rather…or My wife Mary and I would…” Also, I don’t think “sure” would’ve been in the lexicon just yet.

That is, if it is all right with your parents,” he finished with a smile.
Erik: Edward and…uh…
Mac: Martha.
Erik: Martha Merriman were perfectly all right with it as this Felicity Merriman was not related to them in any way.
Mac: Meanwhile, the real Felicity Merriman was taking care of her ill mother.


“I think father and mother
All: Capit…oh screw it.

will be glad to hear of my invitation and will allow me to visit the Tucker household.
Sai: Because he obviously doesn’t know the name of his own household.

It would be a pleasure Mr. Tucker,” I replied with enthusiasm. I noticed we had reached my father’s store at the corner of Duke of Gloucester and Palace Street.

“Very well. We shall see you at noon then?”
Sai: So what time is it now?
Erik: They were early risers…


He nodded in farewell before tuning up Palace Street,
Quatre: It was a little flat today.

toward his home. I watched him walk away from me, along-side the frozen grounds of the Palace Green, behind which stood the Governor’s Palace; a magnificent building one block up from my house. As I gazed at the immense residence, the ornate iron gates closed after a fancy carriage, most likely carrying the governor, passed through into the protective fortress.

I turned back to father’s store, and made my way to the front door, over which hung a wooden sign emblazoned with a cargo ship and the words: Greenhow General Store.
Mac: Wrong. It’s Merriman’s General Store. I don’t think Mr. John Greenhow would appreciate you stealing his store and giving it to this Edward Merriman imposter.

My mother’s father was the founder of the store and the Mr. John Greenhow.
Mac: Wrong. I don’t know what Mrs. Merriman’s father’s name was but it wasn’t Mr. John Greenhow. He was also a plantation owner—King’s Cross Plantation ring a bell?

When my father married my mother, he promised my grandfather he would carry on the business for him once he retires. Father has been running grandfather’s store for five years now.

It is a fair job for him, yet sometimes it keeps him away from home. Once every month, he travels to Philadelphia to export and import goods for the store.
Sai: Why? Wasn’t there a closer port?
House: Williamsburg itself is between two rivers and near Chesapeake Bay.
Mac: She’s trying to pretend to stick some Liberty Kids’ canon in there as LK is set in Philadelphia.
Others: Oh.


It just so happens
Gertrude: Drop the “so.”
Octavius: Or reword it so that Felicity doesn’t sound like a modern teenager.
Gertrude: That too.


that he is taking his leave tomorrow for his voyage north, meaning I get to spend more time in the Printing and Post Office this week. A smile grew on my face as I glided through the door, causing a small bell to alert my father that someone had entered the shop.
Erik (Edward): AHH! It’s the imposter who is calling herself my daughter! Ben, you hold her and I’ll send for someone to take her to gaol!

“Ah, Miss Merriman! So nice to see you again,” greeted father in a jovial tone of voice.
*All look at Mac.*
Mac: That’s actually pretty canon.


He always played this game with me, where he would pretend I was a customer in his store. “Here to buy a new ribbon for your Christmas gown? I suggest blue. From what Miss Margaret Hunter told me this morning when I entered her store, blue is the newest fashion.”
Mac: Oh, dropping some hint to attempt canon.

I was idling by the packages of cards, cotton and wood dolls, and some wooden hoops; in short, the fascinating toys of my father’s shop. I looked to his face to see a knowing smile. “Father, what were you doing in the Millinery shop? You have no shirts needing adjustments or mending. Surely you do not mean to buy a gown for yourself!” I finished with laughter. Father chuckled right along with me, walking out from behind his counter. Besides the fact the he is loyal to the Crown, he is a kind and good-hearted man.
Remus (Felicity): Yet I hate his guts.

Father could always cheer me up, unless of course, if he was ranting about the patriots.

“Well, little miss,” he replied using my childhood nickname,
Quatre: Wow, sucky nickname.
Mac: Her nickname is really “Lissie.”


“It just so happens that I bought you a gown for the Governor’s Christmas Ball.”
Mac: More canon! Felicity was invited to a Christmas Ball thrown by the governor.

“Oh father!” I cried running into his outstretched arms.
Erik: Wow, for a Patriot who hates her father with a passion, she sure is happy when he gives her things to attend parties hosted by Loyalists.

He walked briskly behind his counter and returned with a newspaper-covered box. He handed the package to me and I swiftly began ripping off the wrapping; becoming more and more excited every second. I tore off the box lid and let my eyes fall upon my new gift. I let out a cry of glee as I gazed at the wonderful gown.

It was made of royal blue silk, probably the finest from England, with a white lace stomacher, and lace trimmed sleeves that flared out slightly at the elbow.
Sai: The dress from the book?
Mac: Yes, though her mother started it and then the Coles finished it once Martha fell ill. And it was stated in Felicity’s Surprise and other sources that it would be rare to buy a dress completely made. Usually women, unless they went to a tailor, would make their own dresses.


All in all, the gown was the most beautiful piece of clothing I’ve ever seen. This would surely enhance my appearance and please both the Governor and the Governess.
House: I don’t think that’s what you call the wife of the governor, darling. Governor and his wife would suffice.
Mac: Besides, they were nobility. Lord and Lady Dunmore would’ve also done well.


“Well go try it on silly! Run on home to your mother and show her! Oh! I have a better idea!” father said
Quatre (singing): How much is that comma in the window? The one that should be right here!
Remus: Anyone else thinking that her father is acting more like a mother or a teenaged girl?
All: Yes.


grabbing my shoulders to stop me from running out the shop door. “Why don’t you put it on here and wear it through town and surprise your mother?”
All: The HELL?

I nodded before he scurried me off to the back storeroom to change.

Slipping off my old, dark green day dress, I picked up the new fashionable gown. I checked my stays to make sure they were still tied tightly and finally, I pulled on my new Christmas dress. The silk fabric clung to my body and accentuated every womanly curve of my person.
Remus: Do women even think about that when…?
Mac: Yes. Yes, though not in those words. It’s usually “shows off my boobs,” “hugs the hips,” or (covers Quatre’s ears) “my ass looks good!”


Luckily, my father knows I don’t enjoy the newest fashion from France, where they claim a low cut bodice is the height of style right now.
Men: All praise the French!

I smoothed out the wrinkles in the skirt and walked back into the main front room of the shop where father was checking out Mr. Patrick Henry.
All: Uh… :blink:
Mac: Wrong wording, wrong wording.


Even though he is known to be a radical patriot, he is still a kind man to father and every other loyalist.
Mac: His wife on the other hand…
House: Patrick Henry was a wife beater?
Mac: No, no! Henry supposedly kept her chained in the basement due to a mental illness.
Others: Oh…


He smiled at me as I waltzed towards him grinning, my silky skirt swishing with every step.

“Mr. Henry,” I acknowledged with a curtsy.

“Miss Felicity, as always, you look wonderful,” he replied civilly. I turned to glance at father to see a spark of pride in his eyes as he looked on.
Erik (Not!Edward): Haha! Take that damn Patriot!

I snapped him out of it when I handed him his package from Mr. Sanders.
Sai: Now you do it?

“Ah, yes, the ink I asked for. Thank you Miss Merriman,” he cheerfully stated, placing the packages on a shelf under his counter he was standing behind. “Now run along home and show your mother your new gown.”

“Thank you again father,” I glanced at Patrick Henry and nodded to him saying, “Mr. Henry.”
Mac: Doesn’t need to be it’s own paragraph.

“A pleasure, Miss Felicity,” he said grinning. I stepped out onto the main street again, this time, facing the Governor’s Palace. Just as I was beginning to walk towards the palace and my home, I heard someone call my name. I turned around to see who it was, it wasn’t James,
Quatre: Why would it be him? You weren’t anywhere near his shop!

but it certainly was someone important!

“Miss Felicity!” It was Patrick Henry. When he reached me, we were standing next to Bruton Parish Church, on the corner of Duke of Gloucester and Palace Street.

“Forgive my forwardness, but Mr. Thomas Jefferson told me you are a patriot. Does he speak true?” He sounded eager for my response.
House: Why does he care? She’s just a young girl. I think he would be looking more towards male Patriots.
Mac: Besides, I think Mr. Henry, as passionate as he was, would know such a conversation with a fifteen-years-old girl was inappropriate.


My eyes darted to all the townspeople walking by us, staring at us conversing in the middle of the road.
Erik: Gee, wonder why?

I felt so strange, standing there on the main street where everyone could see me in my eye catching royal blue gown speaking with one of the most influential men of Williamsburg.
Octavius: Yes, that does scream “Look at me!”

I looked down at the ground, afraid he would create a scene; causing father to come outside to investigate.
Gertrude: Semi-colon misuse!

“Do you wish to go somewhere more private?” He suggested.
Remus: Oh Jonas…Felicity, RUN! For Joe Jonas’ sake, RUN FAST!

I nodded and he held out his arm. I gracefully accepted it and together, we walked further down Duke of Gloucester, past the grand Bruton Parish Church, and in the direction of Hartwell Perry’s Tavern.
Erik: Creepiness factor rising…
Mac: Williamsburg rumor mill churning…


Given that it was late morning, the only customers that were there,
Mac: No comma needed.

were waiting for a midday meal, meaning no drunkards were present.
House: Except for that one the barkeep was hiding in the alley behind the tavern so he could sleep it off.

Upon seeing Mr. Henry, the host bustled to an out of the way space and beckoned us to it once he was finished cleaning it up.
Sai: Where’s the creepiness factor now?
Erik: Halfway to the roof.


I followed Mr. Henry into the secluded room where he pulled out a chair for me before taking his own seat. As was custom, I waited for him to speak to me first. It took him a while to realize what I was waiting for, then suddenly, he cleared his throat and said, “Same question Miss Felicity. Speak freely.” His gaze intensified, boring into my skull, forcing me to answer.
Octavius: Cue the “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” music!

“I shall speak not a lie. I am a patriot, Mr. Henry,” I said simply. He grinned from ear to ear before commenting.

“Welcome to the Revolution Miss Merriman. Now, I have an important question for you.” He waited to see my expression but my facial features didn’t change. “What do you know about being a spy?”
All: THE HELL?
Mac: Oh that’s going to go over well at home: “Mom, Dad, I have to leave to do…something…I’ll be with Loyalists, don’t worry! Did I mention I love being a Loyalist?”
Sai: Oh, don’t worry, the story is over.
Quatre: That was relatively painless, don’t you think so?
Mac: No. Let’s go!
*She grabs the James McAvoy cutout and leaves.*


They all returned to the main room. Voldmort wasn’t waiting for them, nor were any of his cronies. Since the magical hourglasses were still only counting points racked up during the atrocity known as…um…oh crap, what was it called again…okay, that Phantom story, they had not done anything to counteract the point system. There was no winner, just six confused humans and one confused penguin.

Mackenzie grew even more confused as Remus covered her eyes with his hands. She could hear something being rattled around and Erik slightly cursing under his breath. She heard the low murmur of House and Erik discussing something, broken by Sai’s whispering.

Remus moved his hands away, allowing Mackenzie to see her large chocolate birthday cake. “Happy Birthday, Mackenzie” was written in somewhat intricate design and candles shone brightly. The others began to sing and she resisted the urge to cringe. After all, only Erik and House could sing. Once they finished, she made a wish and blew out the candles. They spent the rest of the evening eating cake.

A few hours later, everybody—including Jareth—was lying around the room. They had eaten all the chocolate cake but it was the lull where a full stomach rules until the sugar rush kicks in. “Guys, that was a great birthday,” Mackenzie said, curled up on her bed.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, but it isn’t over yet,” Voldemort said, coming into the room. He looked at the empty cake plate. “My, you all have pigged out.”

“We know,” Sai said. “Why are you here and where is your entourage?”

“Ah, the reason I’m here is also why I don’t have an entourage. They are being punished as only two chapters of Mackenzie’s present were loaded.”

“But there were only two chapters,” Mackenzie said, sitting up. “I mean, I only reviewed the first chapter but I definitely remember reading a second chapter. And it was the only other one.”

“I’m afraid it’s been awhile since you saw it, dear. There was a third and it’s been loaded. Have fun.” Voldemort left. Everyone turned to see Jareth had left as well. They sighed and trooped back into the theater.

*Everyone settles back into their seats. Mackenzie resettles the James McAvoy cutout.*
Mac: She must’ve updated when she moved the story into the American Girl category. Oh well. Let’s get this over with. I don’t want to be sporking this when the sugar rush kicks in. I want to be torturing Death Eaters!


Chapter Three – Benjamin Harrison
House: More historical characters ahoy!
Mac: Oh please…please don’t mean Ben!


“My honest reply Mr. Henry? Off the record books?”
Mac: My alter ego being a journalism student, I can tell you it’s “off the records.”

I asked, not missing a beat.

“Naturally.”

“Nothing.” His face fell at my answer and he reached for the nearest bartender and proceeded to order a double whiskey on the rocks.
House: My type of Founding Father!
Octavius: I think Mr. Henry needs it to get through the rest of this story.
Mac: Funny, from what I’ve read, a man of Mr. Henry’s status would not drink whiskey. And does this girl know that “rocks” are ice?


“Well, then, Miss Merriman, it has been a pleasure. I’m sure you will mention none of this to your father.”

“You did not let me finish Mr. Henry,” I started. His drink arrived, but instead of drinking up, Patrick Henry leaned closer, intrigued. “I was not lying before when I said I know nothing about spying, but I do know I enjoy a good challenge. And I’m sure learning the tricks of a spy is among the toughest of challenges.”
Quatre: Yes, it’s be good or get killed.

He nodded, encouraging me to continue, his eyes not leaving mine. “What have you to offer besides the thrill of going behind my father’s back and serving the noble cause?”
Sai (Henry): You want more?

“Your freedom and better yet, everyone else’s,” he replied quietly, but with such intensity it gave me goose bumps.
Mac: It’s giving me indigestion.

“Good enough for me.” Patrick Henry finished his drink in one gulp, stood, promised to be in touch shortly, and left as quickly as my little sister Nan can run – and she won the town fair’s 100-meter dash.
House: The town had a 100-meter dash?
Mac: Did metric exist then? *Looks it up* It did but would not be the standard of measurement. I think you mean “yard” dash, sweetheart.


Leaving Hartwell Perry’s tavern, I continued home to wash up before midday meal with Mary and her family.
Octavius: Three chapters and it’s not even noon yet!

Once I stepped up the first step to our door, momma
Sai: Wait, she calls her father “Father” but her mother “Momma”?

came running out from the south gate entrance. She was most likely hanging Christmas garlands on the fence in the south gardens. She was obviously about to scold me for not coming home straight away from my errands that morning, but upon seeing my new dress, she ran over and squealed with delight.
House: And mom is now a teenager as well. Great.

“Oh Lissie! It’s beautiful! You’re father told me he got you a present for the Governor’s Ball but he did not say what it was. Do you like it?”

“Not at all!” She frowned at my reply, but she saw my lips begin to curve into a smile. “I love it!”
Octavius: Oh how clever! *Fake laughter.* Not.

She nodded in agreement before ushering me toward the front door.
Erik (Martha): Thank you for coming, but we already have a daughter named Felicity. Bye.

I looked up at our brick covered house. It was one of the larger homes in Williamsburg, as both of my parents are prominent members of society and well liked. It is of a rectangle shape, two floors with four rooms on each, all with their own fireplace. Once inside the door, my mother pushed me from the foyer through the hallway to the backdoor.

“Let’s take it off and have Tippy wash and press it so it’s ready for the party,” she ordered referring to one of our maids.
Quatre (coughing): Slaves.

Tippy was the head of the slaves on our property
Mac: Umm, it would seem the Merrimans only had about two slaves—Rose who worked at home and Marcus who worked in the store.

and the most loved by the entire Merriman family.
Erik: Ah-HA! She admits she isn’t part of the family!

I shan’t ever forget the time she caught me playing with Abigail, her daughter, and Mary in the muddy swamp in the woods behind the pasture. She wore out her paddle on all of us that day.
All: Huh?
Mac: Elaborate, Riley, elaborate!

Granted, I did not learn anything from that experience. I was in that same swamp the very next week. However, I remembered not to let Tippy catch me whence I came home.
Octavius: I guess she got messy.

I told momma about my encounter with Mr. Tucker and his invitation. She told me to wash up out back and change to a more formal gown instead of my everyday frock.

Jumping down the steps and into the back of our property, I saw Nan, my nine year old sister, trying to teach William, my six year old brother, to make snow angels on the arbor.
Mac: Wait, so it had snowed and she still wore her silk shoes?

It is a sort of shaded area at the back of our property where we normally sit and relax. Instead of walking straight, through the pleasure gardens
All except Quatre: :blink:

towards my siblings, I turned right to make my way to the north well. There, I found Ben, my father’s apprentice.
Mac: Oh no, not Ben. Don’t massacre Ben.

As today was Wednesday, Ben had off. I saw this as his chance to prepare before he had to run the store for a week while father was away in Philadelphia.

“Good day Lissie,” he said upon seeing me galloping like a child toward the well. “Seems like you are in a cheerful mood.”

“I get to eat midday meal with Mary and her family today!”
Sai (Felicity): And I got this new dress by my father who is pretending to be Edward Merriman while I pretend to be Felicity Merriman.

I shouted before pulling up the bucket and pouring cool water into my hands and scrubbing the dirt off my face. I yelped in surprise at the freezing water.
Erik: Wow, freezing water in December? No way! (Sighs) YOU IDIOT!

“Have you not noticed that Old Man Winter has come, Lissie?” called Ben
All: WOOT!
Octavius: We like you, Ben.


from his place in the stables where he was tending to his horse, Eagle. He always liked to make it quite clear that he was smarter than I.
Mac: And thus the massacre begins…

“Actually, I was just shouting to see if you would come to my rescue. Such a pity you are not the knight in shining armor you claim to be!”
House: Pity for you, good for us.

I shouted before hurrying back into the warmth of the house, leaving behind a confused Ben.
Erik (Ben): So, uh, who was that girl? Where is the real Felicity? Why was I forced to “banter” with her?

Once inside, I headed to my room on the second floor. At the top of the stairs, I turned left and headed into the first room I came to. My room faced southwest and from my windows, I could see Bruton Parish Church on the left and the backyard.

I headed to my armoire and pulled out my linen maroon petticoat and a flower-embroidered chemise. Mother always said the maroon made my strawberry brown hair shine.
Mac: It’s not Felicity! It’s not Felicity! She has RED hair!

After getting dressed, I ran downstairs to say good-bye to mother. I found her in the parlor singing my three-year-old sister, Polly, to sleep.
All: Huh?
Mac: Call me crazy, but most three-years-olds I know don’t really nap unless you really run them down.


“Oh Lissie, I asked Ben to take you to the Tucker’s. He’ll be waiting for you outside.”

“Mother, I’m not a little girl anymore,” I whispered forcefully. “I can walk there myself.”
Quatre (Felicity): I’m a BIG girl now.

“Quite right you are. You are not a little girl anymore. You are a grown lady of fifteen and you shan’t travel alone anymore.
Mac: In the books, her family starts using this system when she’s nine. Though usually only to Miss Manderly’s and back.

Now, do not keep Mary and her family waiting. I’ll see you whence you come home, and be ready to tell me all about it.”
Erik (Martha): So we can gossip about it like the thirteen-years-olds we are .

I sighed in defeat before mumbling, “Yes mother,” and setting off to find Ben. He was outside, leaning against the garden fence, polishing off a sweet roll. He brushed his hands on his pants before offering me his arm with a barely audible, “milady.”

We walked in silence until we crossed the street. “So who will be present for your midday meal?” Ben asked.

“Mary, her mother and father, and her snooty sister Annabelle,” I answered,
Mac: So Mary IS supposed to be Elizabeth, only not from England and a Loyalist.
Erik: If I remember correctly, no one really likes Annabelle right?
Mac: Right. But even I wouldn’t wish this on her.


with a noticeable amount of loathing at the last name. Ben chuckled and patted my hand.

“Some animosity towards Miss Annabelle, Lissie?”

“She’s constantly saying she’s more beautiful, more powerful, and more wealthier
Gertrude: It’s either “more wealthy” or “wealthier.”

than I. And she says my freckles are disgraceful and they chase away all the boys.”
Mac: Actually, freckles weren’t considered beautiful.

I was starting to think she was right, since the only boys who do more than talk to me are Ben and James.
House: They are the smart ones who don’t want to get pulled into this…thing.

The rest simply say good day in passing, or ask for a dance at special gatherings. Nothing out of the ordinary though.

“Now, Lissie. You cannot believe that is true,” Ben said, stopping in front of the Tucker house and looking down to me.
Sai: Oh great…cue the romantic soundtrack!
House: For someone who doesn’t think boys like her, she has quite a few suitors.


“Well, I don’t see any boys jumping at the chance to see me.
Quatre: That boy mentioned in the first chapter is.

But they surely jump to see Annabelle.” I started to look down at my feet but Ben’s hand caught my chin.
*Remus hands out bags*
Mac: I ship Felicity and Ben but only when they are in bloody character!


He ran his thumb over my chin then pressed his palm against my cheek. I leaned into the warmth from his hand and closed my eyes.
*All lean into their sickness bags, losing their cake.*

“Maybe they don’t have to jump. Maybe they’re tall enough.” I opened my eyes and gazed into Ben’s green ones, never faltering.
Erik: Is this to appease the American Girl fans riled up for Felicity being out of character?
Mac: I don’t know and I don’t care. Felicity and Ben are actually making ME sick!

“Besides, Annabelle’s teeth are much too big for me.” I laughed at his comment, but appreciated it all the same. He removed his hand from my cheek, smiled, and kissed my hand before leaving. As he was crossing Palace Street, he turned and shouted over his shoulder, “I’ll be back in an hour and thirty. Enjoy yourself Lissie!”

“Miss Merra’man, so nice t’ see you ‘gain.” I turned around to see Gordon, the Tucker’s house slave, standing at the open front door
Quatre: Missing period.

“Good day Gordon,” I said, walking into the warm house.
All: That’s IT?

Well...there ya go..I hope you liked it...
Erik: I don’t know…it was so short.
Remus: I think the fact that Mac threw up at her own ship should be a hint…

PLEASE REVIEW!
Mac: Oh, don’t worry. I will.
Erik: Flame?
Remus: She doesn’t flame…
House: Wimp.
Remus: And we think this story has merit. (Grumbling) So she’ll just point out it would be better off on Fiction Press as an original story.


Until next time,
RiLeY
Mac: Okay, let’s go.
*They leave, sugar rush hits and they bounce off around Malfoy Manor until Voldemort starts blasting at them.*
You are the music while the music lasts--T.S. Eliot

"Stop the damn texting and pick up a book!"--Grandmama, "The Addams Family" (Musical)

"Tomorrow will be better for as long as America keeps alive the ideals of freedom and a better life." —Walt Disney

"I wake in the loneliness of sunrise
When the deep purple heaven turns blue
And start to pray
As I pray each day
That I’ll hear some word from you

I lie in the loneliness of evening
Looking out on a silver-flaked sea
And ask the moon
Oh how soon, how soon
Will my love come home to me"--"Loneliness of Evening," Cinderella


"Thank you, Lord
You have brought us
Safe to shore
Be our strength and protection ever more.
A Thiarna dean trocaire
A Chriost dean trocaire
A Thiarna dean trocaire
A Chriost dean trocaire"--Heartland, as performed by Celtic Thunder


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