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Step 10: The Scheming
Some ARF writers get carried away with Step 9. Indeed, they forget that there ever was a narrative to their fic, and write twenty chapters worth of vignettes. But let's say that you are only in sixth grade, and haven't quite "matured" yet; therefore, your hatred of Tifa is so strong that you cannot let her off the hook so easily. In that case, you remember that where we last left off, Jealous Evil Villainess Tifa was seething because her plan to ensnare Cloud was foiled by the return of Aeris. Of course, Cloud and Aeris's path to happiness must have some bumps along the way. So it's time for Jealous Evil Villainess Tifa to do what she does best: scheme like hell. Unfortunately, in order for her to scheme effectively, she must be shrewd. This does not fit your characterization of Tifa, which states that she is utterly devoid of any positive qualities, including intelligence. Therefore, she will need some help to destroy the entity that is Cloris. Let's start with the standard scene of Tifa working at the bar: Tifa scowled as she tied her dirty apron around her (flabby) waist. It was nine o'clock in the evening, and her (mildewed) feet were killing her. The peak weekday hours, when middle-aged men would come to unwind at the Turtle's Paradise after work, were almost over, but there remained a few boorish customers who were calling for more drinks. Tired and frazzled, she went around from table to table, serving them all. Some of them would make rude catcalls at her as she passed by. Not that she minded, of course; she loved the attention, even from such unattractive suitors, like the whore that she was. You see, the "like the whore that she was" part is just in case your readers could not already infer from the line that she was less than modest; not everyone can commune with the Gods of Fanfiction, after all, so it is a good idea for you to spell everything out for the rest of us. As she ducked behind the bar to get a new glass, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror (AN: And it broke! Burn!). She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks. Really, if she didn't take better care of herself, Cloud would never like her (AN: Not that he ever will, because you're so fugly! DOUBLE BURN!). So it's getting later, and the crowd is dying down, when in walks Reno of the Turks, drunk out of his mind. Now that Shinra has been destroyed and the Turks have disbanded, Reno is enjoying his leisure time. He is able to support his drinking habit through money that fell from a giant plot hole. If that isn't good enough for you, then say that he made it all through some shady underground dealings, but remember, you will have to explain these precise dealings in a rambling paragraph later on, and it won't be pretty. For some reason, Tifa and Reno are often paired together in fanfiction, even though Rude is the one who likes her in the game. Maybe it's just because Tifa owns a bar, and Reno is portrayed in fanfics as a borderline alcoholic; ergo, it's a match made in heaven. I'm personally surprised that no one's coined the term "Tino" yet. ("Refa" is just as good, but it creates an unfortunate pun.) It certainly doesn't sound as stupid as "Cloti", but I digress. Anyway, since you don't want Tifa to be happy with another man, their relationship will not go beyond subtext.
"Hey, honey," slurred Reno. "How are you doing?" For fifteen seconds, Reno miraculously sobers up to advance the plot. Now is when you get to fake an extensive knowledge of the black market and international smuggling rings. This will be difficult, as you have always preferred Danielle Steel to Tom Clancy, but do not worry if your explanation does not make any sense; all of your readers will just skim through this part anyway. "Rude has a few connections in Junon who help us smuggle weapons into places like Midgar, where Elena is stationed in Sector 5. I'm in Costa del Sol to help direct shipments of weapons that are bound for the Great Continent and Wutai, coming in from the Junon-Costa port, which are sent over from Junon in secret compartments hidden in the stomachs of trained dolphins. We've recently bought an ice cream stand on the beach that serves as a front for our operation, and we use it to send messages to our people in Costa by writing them on popsicle sticks. We employ a force of messenger parakeets, equipped with international global positioning devices, to communicate with our long-distance contacts. Most of our sales are to Wutai, and we ship them there through a network of underground tunnels, which are maintained by a robot task force. Weapons are in huge demand in Wutai, as the Emperor is trying to build up an army, so we're not doing too badly. But lately, to earn some money on the side, we've been branching out into mercenary work, assassinations..." Tifa was in the middle of wiping a filthy glass with a rag, when she looked up abruptly. In a flash, she knew what to do. An odd smile appeared on her (pimply) face. "Reno, there's something I need to tell you...the Ancient has returned." Reno was shocked. "You mean Aeris? Whoa, that's crazy!" He laughs drunkenly, as his plot-induced sobriety has waned.
Tifa scowled. "It's horrible. Just when everything was going so well, she has to come back from the dead to ruin everything for me." So Tifa and Reno scheme over a bottle of vodka. (Reno has agreed to help her in exchange for free drinks at the Turtle's Paradise for six months.) Now, if you want to be boring, you could give away their nefarious plot right now, but I recommend that you leave your readers in suspense. This suggestion has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that you're making this up as you go along, and you still haven't come up with a suitable nefarious plot. "To evil," they toast. "To the death of Aeris! MWAHAHAHAHA!" Step 11: The Cameo A lone figure sat in the corner of the bar. Although she was cloaked, had anyone seen her, they would have noticed how ravishingly beautiful she was. Strands of her dazzling golden hair were visible from underneath her hood, and her amethyst eyes glowed in the darkness. A huge beacon of light shone on her elegant figure, and birds and small animals gathered at her feet to bask in her warm presence. Yet she was still unnoticed by Tifa, Reno, or any of the other remaining patrons. Jycellaemynthia would normally never venture into such a seedy establishment, but something--intuition, perhaps--had guided her there that night. Now, she recoiled in horror at what she had overheard. "That poor girl," she exclaimed softly. "I must do something to help her!" Next part: Guess who's coming to dinner, and coming up with ridiculously ill-conceived nefarious plots. ~Evil Mina |