Lord of the Armors
By Caspian Nyghtvision
Summary: A rather strange, yet interesting and potentially hilarious plotbunny. Using the entire cast of Ronin Warriors, a few sock puppets and a machine that goes 'Ping,' I shall try to recreate the classic epic that is "Lord of the Rings." However, it is not necessary to have seen the movies or read the books for this fic, though you probably should.
I do not own the works of Tolkien--
Chorus: (dutifully) Blessed be the works of Tolkien.
I do not own the works of Bandai--
Chorus: (chanting) Blessed be the works of Bandai.
I do not own anything that belongs to Monty Python or Terry Pratchett--
Chorus: (chanting) Blessed be the goodness that is British Humor.
And, most importantly, there will be no Mary Sues or any of their demonic ilk.
Chorus: (chanting) May they rot in hell. Amen.
=========================
A change is coming. I feel it in the air. I smell it in the back of the closet. I taste it when I lick parking meters. Much that once was is now kaput. Oddly enough, we don't care.
And now, for some obligatory mystical-sounding exposition: Talpa, the Demon Lord, who had some serious hygiene problems, tried to use the armor to destroy Earth, for personal reasons. But the Ancient One wonked him a few times with his staff, and created the Nine Armors, and it worked itself out. Little to no mention was made of teenagers.
If we leave out the confusing pointless bits about White Inferno and Black Inferno and that weird little armor White Blaze wears on formal occasions, there were just nine armors. Nine, that's it, not eight, not ten. DEFINITELY not ten, no matter how much the amazingly gorgeous Mary Sue tries to convince you that she's the long-lost bearer of the Tenth Armor.
So, there were definitely nine.
Five for the Ronin Warriors, the masterless ones--
Hardrock of Earth,
Strata of Sky,
Halo of Light,
Torrent of Water,
Wildfire of the Flame.
Four for the Dark Warlords, the devoted ones--
Illusion, the Summer;
Venom, the Autumn;
Darkness, the Winter;
Oni, the Spring.
Again, you will note that there are not teenagers mentioned. Especially not ones with bad haircuts.
Yet soon may come a time when teenagers with bad haircuts decide the fate of all.
=========================
The sun was shining. Yes, technically it always shines, somewhere on the Earth. Just because there's three feet of clouds and half a planet blocking it from view doesn't mean the bloody thing isn't up there shining away, like it has been for the past gajillion years, give or take a squillion or two. But at this particular moment it was shining, and I don't want to hear you arguing about it. Let go and move on.
The sun shone on half the planet, and it shone on a place that would have been the Shire in Middle Earth, except this is a parody which drags the Ronin Warriors into it. So the sun shone on a remote little village in sort-of-medieval Japan.
Where a boy was sitting against a tree. Reading a book. Yep.
Well, okay, he was sleeping. And snoring like a half-throttled badger demon. But he had the book open in his lap, and if you tried to take it away from him, a pair of stunning blue eyes with ridiculously long eyelashes would snap open. And the boy would yell, "I'm reading that!" and would probably hit you with it.
Technically he wasn't a boy. He was a Young Man. A guy. A teenager of about fifteen, possibly older. He had an athletic figure that was the result of too much soccer, and his wild shoulder-length black hair was too wild and curly to take completely seriously. He had ridiculous sideburns, too. But his famous vivid blue eyes had their insanely thick and beautiful black lashes, and his sunburned nose was snubbed and rather adorable.
... And the fangirls salivated. Some of the fanboys did, too, but they were beaten back by the fangirls, who can be bloody savage when hormonally roused.
Oblivious to the dying screams of the yaoi fanboys, the Author Caspian amused herself by making a bumblebee fly in and out of the sleeping teen's mouth.
Bumblebee: Bzzzt. Bzzzz. Bzzz?
After a while, the Author Caspian grew bored of this.
Eventually a cart came clattering over the cruddy road. It was pulled by a vicious shaggy-coated pony, and driven by a serenely smiling old man. The old man wore faded blue monk's robes and a battered straw hat that covered half his face. Long, straight white hair fell down his back.
He pulled the pony to a halt as he approached the sleeping teen and immediately starting quoting Zen, or something like it. "The day is, and the day is not. Would not the fool fail to embrace it?"
The boy promptly woke up. "Ancient! You came!"
"The badger burbles at the hour of our meeting!" The Ancient One replied calmly. "Cheers, Ryo Sanada."
Ryo climbed into the cart next to him. "I was wondering when you would come. My grandfather's birthday is tomorrow! You're late."
"One is never late. One arrives precisely when one means to. One may ask: is this the meaning of life? One may answer: Cabbage."
"I've missed you, Ancient," Ryo grinned comfortably.
They clattered on in companionable silence. A few small children ran out into the road, because they were brilliant, and began chasing the cart. "It's the Ancient One! It's the Ancient One!"
"He's bringing the alcohol for Uncle Hariel's Birthday!"
"Can we have some liquor, Ancient? Please!"
The Ancient grinned beneath his wide-brimmed hat. A six-pack of sake mysteriously fell off the cart and exploded.
"Yay!" the small children cried, grabbing undamaged bottles and scampering off.
"Their parents are going to be furious," Ryo said.
"The scarecrow must embrace the toaster. For is it not written: You guys could use some serious livening up?" the Ancient replied.
Ryo smiled at his sneakers. "You know, before you started showing up, the Sanadas were respectable people! Then you came and 'livened up' Uncle Hariel, and now we're just weirdos!"
"It is written: The weasel never spanks the same place twice. Is it not said, Hakuna Matata?"
"Uh..." Ryo looked adorably blank. "That's good..."
====================
TO BE CONTINUED...
===================
Whether you like it or not. Well, no. I'd like to get reviews, and I have most chapters completed, so I'll just wait and see what happens... dangles fic in blatant bribery
Lv,
Caspian Nyghtvision
caspianscholarhotmail.com
www.fanfiction.ws/Nyghtvision
By Caspian Nyghtvision
Summary: A rather strange, yet interesting and potentially hilarious plotbunny. Using the entire cast of Ronin Warriors, a few sock puppets and a machine that goes 'Ping,' I shall try to recreate the classic epic that is "Lord of the Rings." However, it is not necessary to have seen the movies or read the books for this fic, though you probably should.
I do not own the works of Tolkien--
Chorus: (dutifully) Blessed be the works of Tolkien.
I do not own the works of Bandai--
Chorus: (chanting) Blessed be the works of Bandai.
I do not own anything that belongs to Monty Python or Terry Pratchett--
Chorus: (chanting) Blessed be the goodness that is British Humor.
And, most importantly, there will be no Mary Sues or any of their demonic ilk.
Chorus: (chanting) May they rot in hell. Amen.
=========================
A change is coming. I feel it in the air. I smell it in the back of the closet. I taste it when I lick parking meters. Much that once was is now kaput. Oddly enough, we don't care.
And now, for some obligatory mystical-sounding exposition: Talpa, the Demon Lord, who had some serious hygiene problems, tried to use the armor to destroy Earth, for personal reasons. But the Ancient One wonked him a few times with his staff, and created the Nine Armors, and it worked itself out. Little to no mention was made of teenagers.
If we leave out the confusing pointless bits about White Inferno and Black Inferno and that weird little armor White Blaze wears on formal occasions, there were just nine armors. Nine, that's it, not eight, not ten. DEFINITELY not ten, no matter how much the amazingly gorgeous Mary Sue tries to convince you that she's the long-lost bearer of the Tenth Armor.
So, there were definitely nine.
Five for the Ronin Warriors, the masterless ones--
Hardrock of Earth,
Strata of Sky,
Halo of Light,
Torrent of Water,
Wildfire of the Flame.
Four for the Dark Warlords, the devoted ones--
Illusion, the Summer;
Venom, the Autumn;
Darkness, the Winter;
Oni, the Spring.
Again, you will note that there are not teenagers mentioned. Especially not ones with bad haircuts.
Yet soon may come a time when teenagers with bad haircuts decide the fate of all.
=========================
The sun was shining. Yes, technically it always shines, somewhere on the Earth. Just because there's three feet of clouds and half a planet blocking it from view doesn't mean the bloody thing isn't up there shining away, like it has been for the past gajillion years, give or take a squillion or two. But at this particular moment it was shining, and I don't want to hear you arguing about it. Let go and move on.
The sun shone on half the planet, and it shone on a place that would have been the Shire in Middle Earth, except this is a parody which drags the Ronin Warriors into it. So the sun shone on a remote little village in sort-of-medieval Japan.
Where a boy was sitting against a tree. Reading a book. Yep.
Well, okay, he was sleeping. And snoring like a half-throttled badger demon. But he had the book open in his lap, and if you tried to take it away from him, a pair of stunning blue eyes with ridiculously long eyelashes would snap open. And the boy would yell, "I'm reading that!" and would probably hit you with it.
Technically he wasn't a boy. He was a Young Man. A guy. A teenager of about fifteen, possibly older. He had an athletic figure that was the result of too much soccer, and his wild shoulder-length black hair was too wild and curly to take completely seriously. He had ridiculous sideburns, too. But his famous vivid blue eyes had their insanely thick and beautiful black lashes, and his sunburned nose was snubbed and rather adorable.
... And the fangirls salivated. Some of the fanboys did, too, but they were beaten back by the fangirls, who can be bloody savage when hormonally roused.
Oblivious to the dying screams of the yaoi fanboys, the Author Caspian amused herself by making a bumblebee fly in and out of the sleeping teen's mouth.
Bumblebee: Bzzzt. Bzzzz. Bzzz?
After a while, the Author Caspian grew bored of this.
Eventually a cart came clattering over the cruddy road. It was pulled by a vicious shaggy-coated pony, and driven by a serenely smiling old man. The old man wore faded blue monk's robes and a battered straw hat that covered half his face. Long, straight white hair fell down his back.
He pulled the pony to a halt as he approached the sleeping teen and immediately starting quoting Zen, or something like it. "The day is, and the day is not. Would not the fool fail to embrace it?"
The boy promptly woke up. "Ancient! You came!"
"The badger burbles at the hour of our meeting!" The Ancient One replied calmly. "Cheers, Ryo Sanada."
Ryo climbed into the cart next to him. "I was wondering when you would come. My grandfather's birthday is tomorrow! You're late."
"One is never late. One arrives precisely when one means to. One may ask: is this the meaning of life? One may answer: Cabbage."
"I've missed you, Ancient," Ryo grinned comfortably.
They clattered on in companionable silence. A few small children ran out into the road, because they were brilliant, and began chasing the cart. "It's the Ancient One! It's the Ancient One!"
"He's bringing the alcohol for Uncle Hariel's Birthday!"
"Can we have some liquor, Ancient? Please!"
The Ancient grinned beneath his wide-brimmed hat. A six-pack of sake mysteriously fell off the cart and exploded.
"Yay!" the small children cried, grabbing undamaged bottles and scampering off.
"Their parents are going to be furious," Ryo said.
"The scarecrow must embrace the toaster. For is it not written: You guys could use some serious livening up?" the Ancient replied.
Ryo smiled at his sneakers. "You know, before you started showing up, the Sanadas were respectable people! Then you came and 'livened up' Uncle Hariel, and now we're just weirdos!"
"It is written: The weasel never spanks the same place twice. Is it not said, Hakuna Matata?"
"Uh..." Ryo looked adorably blank. "That's good..."
====================
TO BE CONTINUED...
===================
Whether you like it or not. Well, no. I'd like to get reviews, and I have most chapters completed, so I'll just wait and see what happens... dangles fic in blatant bribery
Lv,
Caspian Nyghtvision
caspianscholarhotmail.com
www.fanfiction.ws/Nyghtvision