Day Two Hundred and Thirteen: The Iron Avatar

For the month of December, I’ll be world-building. This means taking a look at the people, places, and institutions that I have created over the last six months and trying to figure out more about them. This will involve a look at the stories in which they’ve appeared, and then some speculation, stream-of-consciousness writing, and with any luck a few revelations. In addition, I may come back and add new material as the Elves in my unconscious ship out new ideas, so I’ll be sure to link them up.

Your feedback as readers is, of course, more than welcome. There are probably questions that I’m forgetting to ask and holes that I need to fill.

Wish me luck!

——————

All right – the Randomizer has spit out an interesting one for us today. This is a character that I created on a whim, out of a desire to write a male Mary Sue story – a Marty Stu, as it were. I’m not entirely sure it succeeded, but it was fun to write. Ladies and Gentlemen, Khrys Ferro, from Special Agent Khrys Ferro, parts 1 through 3. Let’s see what the stories have to say about this Man of Action!

133: Part One

• Chief Jerrold Mire hates Khrys Ferro.
• Ferro once blew up a busload of nuns. They were terrorist nuns, yes, but still. It’s an image problem.
• He has a “lean, athletic frame,” green eyes, “impossibly white teeth,” and a baritone voice. He dresses casually.
• He can impale a fly with an unfolded paperclip while the fly is in mid-flight.

134: Part Two

• Ferro is a master at driving sports cars and making them do ridiculous things.

135: Part Three

• He knows how to pick handcuffs.
• He’s gay. And has a thing for Tanner Quan.

I did this story because, as I said, I wanted to write a Mary Sue. What’s a Mary Sue, you might ask? Well, according to the fine folks at TVTropes [1] she is:

an original female character in a fanfic who obviously serves as an idealized version of the author mainly for the purpose of Wish Fulfillment. She’s exotically beautiful, often having an unusual hair or eye color, and has a similarly cool and exotic name. She’s exceptionally talented in an implausibly wide variety of areas, and may possess skills that are rare or nonexistent in the canon setting. She also lacks any realistic, or at least story-relevant, character flaws — either that or her “flaws” are obviously meant to be endearing.

She has an unusual and dramatic Back Story. The canon protagonists are all overwhelmed with admiration for her beauty, wit, courage and other virtues, and are quick to adopt her as one of their True Companions, even characters who are usually antisocial and untrusting; if any character doesn’t love her, that character gets an extremely unsympathetic portrayal. She has some sort of especially close relationship to the author’s favorite canon character — their love interest, illegitimate child, never-before-mentioned sister, etc. Other than that, the canon characters are quickly reduced to awestruck cheerleaders, watching from the sidelines as Mary Sue outstrips them in their areas of expertise and solves problems that have stymied them for the entire series.

In other words, she’s the character that the author wishes she could be, if she were somehow transported to that world. Having arisen out of fanfic, there was a rather sexist connotation to it – the term implied both that only women wrote fanfic, and that only women would be so crass as to create such a blatant author avatar. Surely men would be immune to such things!

Well, no. The Marty Stu is the male version of this, as guys are just as prone to idealizing themselves in fiction as women are. He is:

devastatingly handsome (or if not, possessed of a strange, saturnine magnetism) and desired by all significant women, yes, but romance is not likely to be the main dish. He’s an unstoppable fighter, a rogue agent, a fearless freedom fighter, a master of disguise. However, as times have changed, just as Mary’s acquired a bratty temper, Marty’s had the occasional opportunity to show his softer side.

So you can see where I was going with Khrys Ferro.

As for the name, that’s pretty simple – I just tweaked the spelling of my own given name, and then hunted around for a “manly” surname. I didn’t want to go with Steele or Irons or Rock or something like that, but Ferro seemed to fit. It’s the Latin for “iron,” and one of my favorite Legion of Super-Heroes characters. [2] And so Khrys Ferro was born. Having done that, I pretty much just fit him to the template and watched what happened.

The one twist I put on him, of course, is that he was gay. Partly because if he’s going to be an author avatar, then he should at least be marginally authentic, and also because it kind of plays against the expectation that he’ll be hooking up with a hot lady somewhere in the story.

Interestingly enough, when I was plotting the story out in my head, there was a female character who worked in the Department of National Security offices who was just a-flutter over Khrys Ferro. If he asked, she would have dragged him into the nearest broom closet at a moment’s notice. And Khrys was going to be nice to her, but not in the way she was expecting. He was going to be nice because she was a good agent who deserved his respect. He had zero interest in sleeping with her whatsoever, which would have made for some wacky hijinks.

I’m not sure why that scene didn’t make it in. Probably because I was telling the story from the point of view of Tanner Quan, so it was a little harder to get Ferro and the Nameless Woman together in the same scene. Maybe in the re-writes I can manage it, or in another Khrys Ferro story.

The reason I wanted to tell it from the POV of Tanner, of course, was that it made it much easier to idealize Ferro. Here we have a young agent who’s just itching to get out into the field, partnered up with a guy who is a living action hero. Tanner idealizes Ferro, which is what you need for this kind of character. We don’t want to see his flaws or his inner torments – we want to see him chock full of confidence as he executes some split-second driving to derail a freight train with a Ferrari.

Also, it made it easier to hide the Gay Twist.

Despite my best intentions, I think I’ll hold on to Ferro for a little while, just to see if I can get anything of substance out of him. Where does this boundless cockiness and skill come from? What is going on inside that gorgeous head of his? And, of course, what kind of gay man is he? It seems that he’s not very open about it with his co-workers, which is kind of the soft spot in his armor. The only reason he soul-kissed Tanner was because he thought that Tanner might have died. The great Khrys Ferro was overcome by emotion, which made him drop his Manly Man facade for a moment. Can we see more of this? Will he let us? Who knows?

Either way, I think I can make him work. We’ll see…

—–

[1] Motto: Come For A Moment, Stay For A Lifetime!
[2] Post Zero-Hour, mind you. The original was a little too cocky for my taste.

Day One Hundred and Thirty-four: Special Agent Khrys Ferro, part 2

The bright red Corvette tore through the streets, weaving and dodging other, slower cars. Behind it, three black SUVs were being far less careful. They pushed cars out of the way, slamming them onto the sidewalks and into citizens walking on the sidewalks. And that was before the shooting started. Men in black ski masks leaned out the windows and fired short bursts at the Corvette as they drove through the city, taking sharp turns in great clouds of burning rubber.

Tanner Quan squeezed his eyes shut as the car flew through the city, barely missing streetlamps, other cars and people. “Are you sure this is necessary?!” he yelled.

The driver looked utterly casual. He was wearing sunglasses and barely using two hands to control the precision sports car. A slight flick of his wrist, a gentle turn, and the car did whatever he wanted it to. It was like watching a master musician play an instrument or an artist carve a sculpture. “Don’t worry,” Khrys Ferro said with a smile. “I’ve got them exactly where I want them.” He glanced over at the clock. “Three minutes.”

Tanner looked over at him. “Three minutes to what?”

He chuckled. “You’ll see.” Khrys gripped the wheel and yanked it to the left, and the car spun around once before taking off like a shot down a narrow alley. A moment later and Tanner could see the SUVs behind him in the mirror.

“You know, you didn’t have to blow up their headquarters like that!” Tanner yelled. “We probably could have gotten off with a light maiming!”

They had gone to pay a visit to the local headquarters of the Sons of Nazis in the morning. Khrys was able to look the part with ease – he was tall and athletic, with the kind of masculine aura that any man would respond to. He looked healthy and strong and, most importantly, white. The plan was for him to start talking to the group, get some information from them and hopefully finesse the location of the Department of National Security agents that were being held hostage. Tanner’s job was to be the lookout, a job that he was none too happy with.

True, his Chinese ancestry would have made him a less than ideal candidate for the Sons of Nazis, but he had hoped to be a little more involved than just sitting in the car.

And that’s when he saw the guys with guns heading in the back. They were a couple of well-known criminals that had gotten themselves on the DNS’ radar in the past. Tanner knew their plan the moment he saw them, and he grabbed his phone to call Khrys. When he didn’t answer, there was only one option left. Tanner jumped from the car and bolted into the building, sliding past a couple of guards in the process. He had his gun out before anyone knew what was happening and was ready to use it.

Khrys, however, was already in the process of interrogating the leader of the cell. He was doing so by slamming his head into a wall. Bloody and battered, the man was weeping and offering to tell Khrys whatever he wanted to know. And that was when all hell broke loose.

The men came in the back and started shooting. The two guys nearest Tanner both went got hit by flying bullets, but he managed to find cover. “Khrys!” he yelled. “Talk to me!”

“I’m all right,” Khrys yelled back, and Tanner’s heart swelled in relief. “When I give the word, run like hell!”

“What? Khrys, what are you -”

“GO!” the other man bellowed. Tanner turned around and bolted out the door he’d come in. When he got to the Corvette, he turned around just in time to see Khrys leap out the door, followed only moments later by a massive explosion. He hit the ground, rolled with the impact, and came up running. “In the car!” he yelled. “Go!”

They got in the Corvette and started to drive. The black SUVs had showed up soon after.

Now, threading their way through narrower and narrower streets, Tanner had some time to try and figure out what Khrys was up to. The man was brave, that was certain. But he nearly got them both killed with that stunt, and there was no way of knowing if he’d do it again.

The car spun to the right again, and Khrys was counting under his breath. About a hundred feet ahead of them, a train crossing gate had come down, and the red lights were flashing to warn people off. The car accelerated, and Tanner covered his head just as they blew through the wooden arm.

The Corvette caught air as it flew across the tracks, and it jumped a bit as the train clipped the car’s tail. Khrys slammed on the brakes and spun the car around, just in time to see one of the boxcars leap off the tracks and come tumbling towards them, followed by the crumpled remains of a black SUV. The rest of the train, which had been slowing down, started to follow the derailed car in a cacophony of screaming, twisted metal. Huge boxcars jumped the tracks, cracking open their contents and spilling them all along the roadside. Ten, twenty – countless cars rolled onto their sides and slid to a halt, throwing off showers of sparks and smoke as they did so. When the last one ground to a halt, Khrys got out of the car and walked over to the remains of the SUV. Tanner got out and just looked at the utter carnage they had just caused.

“We’re dead,” he said.

Khrys was reaching into the driver’s side for something and eventually came back with a bloody wallet. “No we’re not,” he said. He started tossing cards on the ground. After a few, he grinned and looked up at Tanner. “But someone will be.” He held up a hand-written business card with the name Dion Prospero scrawled across it. Underneath was an address.

Tanner took it and a grin broke across his face. The smoke from the train wreck tickled his nose, and sirens were coming in from the distance, but he had what the Department had been looking for: the location of the Sons of Nazis’ founder and leader, Dion Prospero. Tanner looked up at Khrys, who nodded and said, “Back in the car.” He cracked his knuckles. “Time to finish this.”

TO! BE! CONTINUED!!

Day One Hundred and Thirty-three: Special Agent Khrys Ferro, part 1

“DAMMIT!” Tanner Quan heard bureau Chief Jerrold Mire yell and then something that sounded a lot like his cell phone being flung against the wall. Again.

Carefully, he opened the office door and poked his head in. “Something wrong, Chief?” Tanner was the newest agent to work in the anti-terrorist division of the Department of National Security, and while he wasn’t the youngest, he certainly looked like it. He had graduated in the top of his class, had aced every test to get into the agency, but still looked like he was a freshman in college at best. Jerrold often reminded him that he had asked for someone he could send out on field work, not someone who looked like he should still be in the Boy Scouts. While he tried to be as professional as possible, Tanner loved his job, and the thought that he might one day end up going on a field mission was what got him out of bed in the morning.

The closest he had come so far was posing as a teenager to catch sexual predators. But he knew that persistence was the key, and he suspected that his youthful enthusiasm was wearing the Chief down.

Jerrold glared up at him. “Get in here, kid. Shut the door.” Tanner walked in and unbuttoned his suit jacket before he sat down. He heard a buzzing noise and glanced up. Somehow a fly had gotten into the office and couldn’t find its way out.

“I’m twenty-six, Chief,” Tanner said as he sat down. “Hardly a kid.”

“Two of our agents,” Jerrold said, apparently ignoring the remark, “have been captured by the group they were infiltrating.” He cracked his knuckles and leaned back in his chair. Chief Mire had been a fit man in his youth, and one of the Department’s best agents. Then he had been promoted, and he’d never really gotten over it. “Somehow they managed to blow their cover or maybe something about them just didn’t sit right.” He shifted files around on his cluttered desk until he found the one he wanted. “Either way, the Sons of Nazis are holding them and they want a bunch of their guys released from prison before they even think about letting ours go.” He sighed and stared at the ceiling. “The brass are gonna have my balls for this.”

Tanner sat quietly for a moment, staring at the framed hunting print on the Chief’s wall and trying to ignore that fly. The Sons of Nazis were a nasty domestic terrorist group. They had blown up a dozen churches across the South, and were probably responsible for at least two dozen murders. The Department had been hunting them for years, but their insular membership made it hard to get anyone in, and they were tech-savvy enough not to leave an obvious electronic trail to follow. And if these agents had been captured? It would seem that the Department was well and truly out of options.

Or at least, nearly out of options. There was still one chance.

After a moment, he said, “You know. We really ought to call -”

“NO!” Jerrold sat up straight.

“But he’s the best! You know he could -”

“No, no, and NO!” Jerrold stood up and grabbed at his shirt pocket. Smoking had been banned in their offices years ago, but Chief Mire had been there a lot longer than that, and tended to forget when he was stressed. “The last time we sent him on a mission, he blew up a busload of nuns.”

“Yeah, but…” Tanner shrugged. “They were terrorist nuns. I mean, he found their hard disks and everything…”

“And do you think the press got on and said, ‘Don’t worry, everybody – these were terrorist nuns’? Of course not!” He circled the desk and stood right in front of Tanner, drilling his bloodshot eyes into Tanner’s. “All I heard, for months, was how my agent blew up a busload of nuns.” He started at Tanner for a long, uncomfortable moment before turning away. “I’m not calling him!”

“You don’t have to,” a new voice said from the doorway. They both turned around to see a tall man who filled the doorway.

Special Agent Khrys Ferro stood there, leaning against the doorjamb and chewing on a toothpick. He looked casual, in cargo shorts and a Hawaiian shirt that did little to hide his lean, athletic frame. He lifted his sunglasses up to his forehead, and bright green eyes flickered between Tanner and Chief Mire. “Sounds like you need my help,” he said in a strong baritone.

Tanner was too awed to speak. He’d heard a lot about Khrys, but had never been in the same room with him, much less spoken to him. The other man seemed to draw his attention like a magnet. The sheer force of his personality was too much to resist.

Chief Mire, on the other hand, was unmoved. “Not a chance, Ferro,” he yelled. “You’re too risky for this mission!”

Khrys crossed to the desk and grabbed an open file before Mire could stop him. He flipped through it, scanning the pages of reports and photographs. He glanced over at Tanner. “Nazis, eh?”

Tanner swallowed and nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“All right, then,” Khrys said. “Here’s what I’m gonna do.” He dropped the file back on the desk. “I’m gonna solve your little Nazi problem for you and bring back your agents.” Chief Mire started to build up a good yell again, but Khrys cut him off. “And I’m bringing him with me.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, right at Tanner.

“Me?” Tanner squeaked.

“Him?” Mire yelled. “You out of your mind? You’re bringing a babyfaced Asian kid to go fight Nazis?” Chief Mire dropped into his chair. “Not a chance, Ferro! You’ll both get killed!”

Khrys’ hand whipped out and grabbed a paperclip from the Chief’s desk. In a flash, he unfolded it and threw it against the wall. Then he put his sunglasses down and said to Tanner, “I’ll be outside when you’re ready.” He grinned, flashing impossibly white teeth, and left the office.

Tanner and Chief Mire looked at each other for a moment, and then at the wall. There, writhing on the thin wire that impaled it on the fake wood paneling, was the fly.

Tanner and the Chief exchanged glances again, and then Tanner hurried out of the office.

TO BE CONTINUED!