New MST OMG!
This one's different. I know we normally MST fanfiction in the LotR genre, but all three of us also read the Wheel of Time series, by Robert Jordan, and Mouse at least does some roleplaying in that genre. And Mouse stumbled across this. It was so easy, it had to be MST'd; the thing practically fell into our laps, fully written.
If you haven't read Wheel of Time, it'll still be funny, of course, but it's funnier if you have. *nudgenudge*

Kitty: Where did you find this again?
Mouse: *waves vaguely* Ah, just this forum I go to...a Wheel of Time based Roleplay forum with awesome people and a terrific Amyrlin Seat that everybody should join. I don’t rightly remember.
Kitty: ...right.

[FONT=Optima][COLOR=blue]Hi

K: It’s nice that you took the trouble to make your “Hi” look nice, if not to actually find out how to do so properly.
M: Please do imagine how the rest of this would look, though, after she’s chosen that particular font, and that particular shade of eye-searing forum blue.
K: Perhaps we should be glad it didn’t work?
M: I already was, thanks.

My character is Rosalind Sol Gursun and is from the Borderlands where she moved froma farming community to an isolated but beautiful vale.

K: Not from a particular country, mind you. She’s from all the Borderlands.
M: So...she moved to a...vale. Thingy. What exactly did she do in this...vale? Thingy?
K: She moved her friend, Froma Farming’Community, there.
M: But...why?
K: Because it was isolated. And beautiful.
M: But what exactly is a...vale? Thingy? What does one do there?
K: I know! I know! “Vale” is the Randland word for - get ready -
M: *ready*
K: Leper colony!
M: Amazing! Why, that explains everything perfectly!

She is now 20 and has spent her life moving from location to location

M: So...she moved to a vale. Thingy. But she didn’t stay there, despite its isolation and beauty and general desirability as a location for ‘Sues...no, she moved around. But why?
K: No, I’ve decided that the Vale-Thingy was her final location. She was getting tossed from town to town before that, but they finally found a place for her.
M: *eyes Rosalind skeptically* Are we talking about Rosalind or Froma? Or are they sort of a unit?
K: Froma is her imaginary friend.
M: Ah, I see. So the farmers convinced her she was only going to the vale-thingy to take Froma there and keep her company, eh? Just for “Froma.” Not because they wanted to get rid of her or anything.
K: And she was stupid enough to fall for it.
M: I don’t know why you seem so surprised.

and is well aqainted with the distributor of the World she is from and has seen so much of.

M: This guy distributes the World? That’s impressive. I’ve seen food distributors, and magazine distributors, but World distributors? Wow.
K: Maybe “World” is their equivalent of “Globe” magazine?
M: What does aquainted mean?
K: I think it sounds rather...qaint.
M: *thwaps* First Birdie makes bad puns, and then you! What is this?
K: *rubs head* Hmmph. Anyway, so she’s aqainted with the magazine guy.
M: Actually, it seems to say that she’s from the magazine. Maybe this means that Rosalind imagined Froma from a picture in the magazine?
K: I don’t even want to consider the possibilities of that last bit there, “has seen so much of.”
M: *sidelong look* Well, I took it to mean she’s a big fan of World magazine, and reads it cover to cover. I’m not sure I wanna know what you were thinking.

However, as many farm girls do, she dreams of something greater

K: She’s not a farm girl, she’s a Vale girl.
M: Or at least a homeless wandering girl with imaginary friends.
K: Or, like, totally a Vale girl. Like.
M: *eyeroll* You’ve been spending too much time with Birdie.
K: I wonder what she’s dreaming of. I had a dream where I had no teeth, and it definitely wasn’t something greater, so we can rule that out.
M: Imaginary boyfriends?
K: Life with non-lepers?
M: Life as a real character instead of a flaming Mary Sue?
K: Mouse, we only wish she was flaming. At the moment we’ve had no indication she’s on fire yet.
M: *pout* You always spoil a girl’s dreams.

because of the bright light that awakens her or distracts her and has done so repeatedly more than usual lately.

M: Personally, if a bright light wakes me up, I start whining about how it’s too early to get up. I don’t go off dreaming about stuff.
K: How can something that wakes you up make you dream?
M: So anyway, she claims that, like many farm girls (which is a really silly comparison, as she isn’t a farm girl, but we’ll ignore that), she dreams of stuff, and she’s distracted by hallucinations and/or sunlight. Personally, I’m thinking farm girls will want a few words with Miss Rosalind.
K: Words aren’t necessary. Farm girls have shovels. And pitchforks.
M: And rope. And cows.
K: And many other useful implements of...correction.
M: It’ll be a nice, informative chat. I’d like to listen in and take notes.
K: You know who she reminds me of?
M: She reminds me of somebody, but I can’t think of who.
K: Faulkner.
M: WHAT?
K: Except without the whole talent part.
M: How does she even vaguely resemble Faulkner?
K: I’m reading “Intruder in the Dust” in class, with the Superlong Sentences of Dooooooom, in which you completely lose track of subjects and objects and verbs and everything else.
M: Anybody can write Superlong Sentences of Doooooooom. It’s not, like, a talent.
K: I never said it was. It just happened to remind me. Like I said, she’s like Faulkner but without talent.
M: *eyeroll* Whatever.

As a child she used to chase a light in the fields and worry her family that she suffered from a mental syn,

M: Mental syn? Is that different from a physical syn?
K: *examines possible words she could have meant by “syn”* Could be sin, sign, sine...
M: None of which make any sense in context.
K: I like sine. She has a mental sine. Comes from doing too much trigonometry.
M: But she doesn’t really have a sine, you know; she’s not good enough at trig. No, her family only thinks she does.
K: I see. So she’s actually, like, undefined or something? Too bad I didn’t pay enough attention in Trig to know what wouldn’t have a sine.
M: I could go look it up, but frankly, she’s not worth it.

however as she has aged and matured she has been very secretive about her habit of Light seeing and has played it off.

K: Aged and matured...would you say she sounds more like cheese or wine?
M: Both? Cheesy and whiny?
K: I suppose you’re right.
M: I usually am.
K: So nice of her to play her sine off, anyway.
M: Yeah, that one’s giving me funny mental pictures. But I do like how she refers to her hallucinations as a “habit.” Maybe she’s talking about the habit that induced the hallucinations?
K: Eh, I think the spontaneous transition from “light” to “Light” is more amusing.
M: Indeed. Suddenly, this random uncanonical junk is taking on quasi-religions overtones...
K: *dramatic background music*

Rosalind, in personality, is unflappable, modest, charming and curt.

M: So...she’s impossible?
K: Charming and curt don’t go together so well.
M: And unflappable? Puh-lease.
K: Perhaps she’s...confused...about what these things mean.
M: After the syn incident, I wouldn’t be surprised.
K: Hey, maybe two of those traits describe Rosalind, and two describe Froma!
M: *relieved* That would make so much more sense.

She is not one for too much speaking and clearly has an interest in folk lore.

K: Those two traits go into the same sentence because her silence is an indicator of her folkiness.
M: I think we can say with some certainty that “curt” is one of the adjectives for Rosalind, since she doesn’t talk.
K: Clearly.

This is inherent in her gypsy upbringing.

K: But not her leprous upbringing, thank goodness. No one wants to hear the lepers’ folklore.
M: So...gypsies own farms now?
K: So it would seem.
M: Not only did she transplant a non-native culture into Randland, but then she made them actually settle down and thus de-gypsified them. I’m not seeing the point, myself.
K: The point is that “gypsy” is a cool word, and she wanted to use it.
M: Oh. Right.
K: Everything makes sense once you simplify it to their level.
M: Not the kind of sense I want to understand, thankyouverymuch.

She has tried to use her feminine wiles to escape from her life

M: What, she doesn’t like living in the Mary Sue leper colony with Froma?
K: Um...she’s wiling the Vale guards?
M: What’s so wrong with her life, anyway? She hasn’t mentioned anything worth escaping or angsting over, even to a ‘Sue. What’s the problem here?
K: Not a very nice girl, if she’d be willing to just leave Froma behind, either.
M: Poor Froma. *patpats*

by offering her services as a cleaner/farmer (but nothing else) to noble travelers through the isolated Vale,

K: If the Vale-Thingy is isolated, even setting aside the fact that it’s actually a ‘Sue leper colony, there wouldn’t be a whole lot of noble travelers.
M: And what would nobles want with a farmer, even if they were tromping through the Vale-Thingy?
K: I know! A noble might want a maid or a servant, but...a farmer?
M: She didn’t say anything about servant-ing.
K: Oh, my mistake. Not a maid, a “cleaner.” Like detergent.
M: My Tide doesn’t need feminine wiles. If it started wiling at me, I’d take it straight back to Wal-mart.
K: New Tide! Now with Spring Scented Feminine Wiles!
M: And why would a farmer need feminine wiles?
K: She’ll wile that corn right out of the ground.

all of which have disregarded her appearance, despite her beauty, her clothing is often tatters of gowns she wore as a youth.

K: So perhaps she’s not so feminine and wily as she thought?
M: So let me get this straight. She’s all by herself in the middle of the Sue leper colony isolated Vale-Thingy. And she’s wiling at these noble guys. And while she’s being all girly-wily, she’s dressed in rags. And she’s OMGSOPRETTY.
K: In ripped up pieces of her childhood clothes, to be specific. But that about sums it up, yeah.
M: And not a single one tries to take advantage of her?
K: I wonder how she’s still fitting into those clothes.
M: I mean, not that I want a rape-Sue, but come on! She’s like, designed for the job!
K: If you want angst, there it is, folks, just screaming to be picked up. And squirming slightly.
M: Also: why would a gypsy farm girl wear gowns to tatter later? And why doesn’t she have decent clothes anymore? There’s no tragedy to explain this. It’s just sort of...dropped on us.
K: Froma takes all the good clothes. Rosalind just gets the leftovers.
M: That must be it. Smart Froma. *snuggles*

Rosalind heard of the Aes Sedai and now seeks meaning to her strange and disconcerting Light habits.

M: *snicker* Her “Light habits.”
K: She doesn’t need Aes Sedai. I can tell her right now: lay off the drugs and it’ll all clear up.
M: I think “Light” is Ros’s euphemism for crack, or the WoT equivalent thereof.
K: But sure, trot on over to the Aes Sedai. I look forward to their reaction.

She hopes to learn what it is she is experiencing as it secretly worries her.

K: It worries me, too. And not secretly.
M: I don’t know why she has to specify that the worry is secret, since she’s “playing off” her drug habit.
K: She’s being all brave and tough, not letting anyone know that she’s addicted.
M: There’s nobody around to know except Froma, who’s obviously far more intelligent than Rosalind, and the idiot noblemen who ignore the half-naked girl wiling at them.

The reason for Rosalind’s worry comes from being awoken one night and led to a hill where she watched the sky transform slowly, but gradually,

M: So...the reason you worry isn’t your hallucinations, the reason comes from the hallucinations?
K: Riiiiiiight.
M: And I thought this had been happening for, like, years now. Why would this one night be any different?
K: Better special effects. The sky transformed; didn’t you see?
M: *mysterious voice-over of Doom* She watched in awe as the sky transformed slowly, but gradually (because these two words usually have entirely opposite meanings and must be reconciled with a “but”) into...
K: *waits suspensefully*
M: A GIANT TWINKIE.
K: *keels over dead*

the clouds shifting menacing into ominous ship sail patterns.

K: I need to call the Center for Abused Adjectives. And the Society Against Neglect of Adverbs.
M: Ship sail patterns? What patterns do sails have? Neon floral?
K: Mine are paisley.
M: So, the sky-twinkie has a paisley print, which is somehow...ominous.
K: Of course, that’s assuming that our definition of “ominous” is the same as the definition in whatever universe Rosalind and Froma occupy.
M: Which seems unlikely.
K: Agreed.
M: So...what does it mean there?
K: Um...intoxicating?
M: Paisley-pattern sky-twinkies are intoxicating?
K: They might be.
M: *considers this* Yeah, well, I guess I could see that. Especially given her “Light habits.”

The Light she followed flickered away and she was left alone, cold, at midnight, upon a hill.

K: Can I adopt one of those commas?
M: I’ll take one too. He’s a nice comma. I’ll call him Ted.
K: Mine’s Olivia.
M: I imagine it’ll take a while for them to recover from their abuse at Rosalind’s hands, but they’re worth it.
K: It’s always a joy to rehabilitate abused punctuation.
M: *cuddles Ted*

Since that night she has not been the same, determination never before so strong within her, to discover what this Light she chases is.....

K: Attempting to untangle these sentences is headache-inducing.
M: OMG! I knew she reminded me of someone, and I just figured out who it was!
K: *afraid*
M: She writes JUST LIKE TJCG!
K:...
M: Doesn’t she? Doesn’t she?
K: *pained* ...she does. Except perhaps a bit less random shouting and capitalization.
M: Yes, well, that takes practice. She’ll get there eventually, Lord save us.

Her other heartled is an interest in the Seafolk from the Sea of Storms.

M: Heartled?
K: I was just about to ask that.
M: Is that some weird cross between <3 and snuggled?
K: I don’t know, I think we may need the Great Big Dictionary of Suedom again.
M: *hauls out the Giant Dictionary, blowing dust off the cover* Let’s see....H, h, h...
K: H comes after G.
M: Shut up, smart-aleck. Here it is.
Heartled (noun): a mental aberration, characterized by hallucinations and general stupidity. Causes intense laughter and/or irritation on the part of onlookers. See also: syn
K: Ah...this makes so much more sense now that we know!
M: She’s a textbook case, really.
K: Rosalind’s got two forms of heartled - a syn and an interest in Sea Folk!

she has felt a strange affinity for this and their lore for years and hopes to Venture there one day once her purpose she understands.

K: Strange indeed.
M: She’s felt an affinity with her heartled?
K: I must say, it’s nice that at least somebody got a capital in that sentence, even if he wasn’t first.
M: Well, she only had a few, so she had to ration them out, and it was a very important Venture.
K: If she was so low on capitals, why was she throwing them around on Light and Vale?
M: *shrug* I spy yodaspeak! Can you spot it?
K: Once her purpose she understands, fulfilled she can be, young padawan!
M: She’s just got all the luxury ‘Sue accessories, doesn’t she?
K: Yodaspeak comes standard now.

In appearance she is of average height, quite dark skinned which lightens considerably in Winter and has long, black tousled hair.

M: So...she tans easily. What’s your point?
K: Her skin has long, black tousled hair. But only in Winter.
M: Not just any winter, either; only in the special Winter that comes ‘round once a century.
K: I prefer to think of her as one of those magical color-change Barbie types.
M: Ooo, I loved those! You get a bowl of hot water and one of ice water, and just dip it back and forth, watching it change, until you wear out the changer-stuff and it doesn’t work anymore. *lost in happy memories*
K: *affectionate eyeroll*

She prides herself on her tough feet and agility and loves the tight rope from circus friends.

K: Who on earth prides themself on their tough feet?
M: *snerk* She loves the tight rope...That sounds so wrong. With a capital W.
K: So...Wrong?
M: Yes. *deliberately ignores the tight rope statement* Now she’s a gypsy-farmer-leper-drug-addict-circus-girl?
K: Never mind the lack of actual circuses in Randland...that’ll go along with the gypsies.

Her eyes are a bright green and speak of great and archaic wisdom despite her years, this lending itself to others trusting her quite easily, with her sound advice and gentle reasoning.

K: To quote from the Age of Glory official page:
“Most characters will be starting out at puberty, so they won’t be overly strong, or wise, or experienced. These are things that they will gain throughout the time you roleplay with them - that’s the fun part.”
M: She’s twenty, and she herself acts like a thirteen year old, of course, but her eyes are another story. Mouthy little guys. They just jabber on and on about archaic wisdom.
K: Snotty little buggers. I bet they don’t even know what the word archaic means.
M: We need to toss these speaking eyes on the pile along with the tale-telling lips and the sharp ears and eyes.
K: Yeah, I can have my lips and my eyes be a matched set!
M: I must say I’m impressed with how she’s managed to gentle down her reasoning. I’ll have to ask her how she did it; mine’s always out of control and breaking people’s arms.
K: I have to keep mine under lock and key.
M: I do think she might be mistaken about people trusting her, though.
K: Why not? Every time I see an obviously drug-addicted, leprous circus girl in rags, wiling at noblemen while her eyes ramble about wisdom, the first thought that pops into my head is, “Gee, she looks trustworthy!”
M: Well, of course. But she’s a gypsy. Everybody knows you can’t trust gypsies.
K: That’s true. *eyes Rosalind distrustfully* I might trust her imaginary friend Froma, though.
M: Me too. Froma sounds pretty awesome, actually.

Rosalind hopes only to become greater than she is. She knows she is blessed.

K: *scribbles* There, all better!
M: Ooo, what’s it say?
K: “She knows she is cursed.”
M: Very nice indeed.
K: *proud*
M: And I should hope she wants to be greater. It’s not like she could be any worse, right?
K: Well...it depends on your idea of “greater.” Personally, I’m worried.
M: *ignores* She couldn’t possibly become any bigger a ‘Sue.
K: I don’t know - I think if she collaborated with Kelticdream, and maybe had a few more sessions with TJCG...
M: Oh. I suppose that’s true...but she’s got a few more posts left to...comment on.
K: But that’s it for the intro! We finished it! Go us!