Chapter Two: The Obligatory Escort

I have no ownership over any copyrighted characters, blah. Yeah. My creations are my own, though.

Okay. I've done some reviewing of my situation, and it turns out that I am a fucking moron. YES, YOU STUPID FAN-DUMB GIRLS, I ADMIT I AM REALLY THICK-HEADED. I read my character sheet and sighed initially at all the negative traits I had been assigned. At least I was Chekhov's gunman – but I have a feeling that doesn't make up for me being a stalker with a crush.

Apparently the only reason why a lot of fans hate me is because I interrupted Ulrich and Yumi's relationship. So that's it? The only reason why people want me to drop dead is because I crushed on someone and dared to admit it? Wow. I mean, I'm pretty damn sure you've done something like that before, right? What hypocrites you are. (I believe this is the part where I insert 'You Monster', but I'm not gonna push it.)

One of the few things that I think I'll be grateful for is my mark as Chekhov's gunman. I kicked off a horrible event, though, so that isn't really anything that I can be proud of or even look back on fondly. I'd rather just forget that it ever happened.

"Hello!"

"Holy crap," I answer. The voice shocks me out of my thoughts and for a second, I am highly alarmed. I guess that's what happens when human voices prepare you for some sort of pain – usually psychological. What? I've been hearing my so-called friends taunt me, and it's not a fun deal. At all.

There's now what appears to be a teenaged girl standing in front of me. Well, her sprite's the one standing in front of me, since I'm the only human I know that can travel into electronic networks. She wears an orange t-shirt, grey cargo pants, white sneakers, a turquoise jacket, and a pair of thin-rimmed glasses. The incoordination of her outfit bothers me subconsciously and I avert my eyes.

"Who the hell are you and how are you talking to me and you can hear me and that makes no sense whatsoever-" I sputter, before cutting myself off. Duh, none of this makes sense! It didn't make sense to begin with.

"I'm the obligatory Self-Insert OC," proclaims the girl. Her voice is hoarse and low, but still distinguishable as female. "I'm here to provide exposition, to guide you through cyberspace, and to be your witty but sometimes oblivious or cruel companion." She smiles, which kind of worries me, before speaking again. "Since my real name is very bland and common, you can call me Hiraku! Just kidding, call me Kate."

"That is common," I agree. Kate scoffs. "Your name is William. It's got two other basic names in it anyway." I pause to mull this over and decide that, as annoying as she is, she's right, and dammit my name is common; that hurts my ego a little.

"So how did you get here?" I ask her, raising an eyebrow. She shushes me. "It's just a story. Relax. Mystery Science Theater taught me that, you know." It doesn't strike me as significant, so I forget about it immediately.
"But HOW did YOU get HERE?" I demand, only for Kate to slap my hand.
"That hurt," I complain.
Her brown eyes smile. "Yeah, I know."

After a lengthy explanation that I don't want to discuss because the word 'lengthy' should tell you all you need to know (you nitpickers), I finally cave in and allow Kate to guide me around cyberspace.

For some reason, she draws her hood over her short, brown, messy, tangled hair – well, never mind, I know the reason why she's hiding her hair.
"William," she grins. "William Dunbar. You said you wanted to learn how to not mess things up, right? Well, I'll help you!"

I frown at her. "I don't want your help. I don't trust you. I just read about your types – you want to become a Mary-Sue, don't you? Everyone will like you here but they'll hate you out there, but either way you get attention, right?"

Kate stops cold and glares at me. "No," she replies. "I'm planning on becoming an author after I finish college and get my degrees. If I want to become a memorable writer for the right reasons, I have to make sure that any expies of my personality aren't universally liked or even well-known by other characters. I'll have to make a lot of mistakes, morally questionable choices, and cause some problems to become even worse. In other words, I want to be a realistic character."

"You're starting off inside a computer talking to a kid whose body was stolen by a highly advanced, self-assured artificial intelligence," I deadpan. "Way to be realistic."

"Oh good, you're already becoming a deadpan snarker!" Kate exclaims, looking amused. "I was kind of hoping you'd go that route, since a lot of genre-savvy characters become deadpan snarkers."
I have to admit, when she smiles, my situation becomes more bearable in some way. Maybe it's because I know that I'm not alone in cyberspace anymore, so I feel more secure.

The weird girl fixes her glasses before grinning at me. "What page do you want to see now?"
I stop to think her question over. What do I want to learn? How do I want to improve myself as a character both to my 'teammates' and to the audience? "Hey! Audience! Tell me what I should research!" I command, pointing at everyone reading this chapter.

"If you say anything about Rule 34, your suggestions will be ignored and William will mock you in-story!" Kate adds. I glance at her.
"Do I even want to-"
"No, you really don't."

Yep, I'm allowing my readers to suggest what they think William should research next. After all, if he wants to be a better character, he's going to have to learn a lot before the Lyoko Warriors save him and bring him home. Please drop in a review with a suggestion!