Disclaimer: Fanfiction.net is obviously not mine, and neither is
The Lord of the Rings, which belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.
Author's Note:
This is technically my own and original idea. I have not taken it off anyone, nor extracted it from a written or published composition. It has been encouraged by a few, including myself, so I am confident that this is not a completely stupid and pathetic idea.
Hope you enjoy this! But I'm going to keep writing it whether anyone likes it or not!
-Naheka
My right eye twitched irratatedly with utter annoyance as I listened to Tasha rant about some random crazy anime saga. In realization of my obvious resistance to anything that had to do with robots and outer space, driven by a lovesick hero or whatever, she silenced herself and slumped in her chair. The bus jolted slightly as it came to a rough stop in front of someone's house. As the doors slid open, a girl with short crimson hair walked on board. Dark mascara and ruby-red lipstick was plastered on her powdery white skin. Black six-inch platform shoes covered her feet, accompanied by a hiked-up scarlet plaid skirt and a black, tight, spandex-like shirt on her torso bore the message: "LEGOLAS IZ MYN, SO F**K OFF!"
Half of the bus raised an eyebrow at her. She took a seat at the front of the bus as she popped a tart of pink gum into her mouth. Who in this world would know that this would be a very normal day today, for she would be going to Middle-earth. So--what? You think it wouldn't be normal to go to Middle-earth? Ridiculous! I go there every day! You're surprised? That's odd. Don't you go to Middle-earth everyday? You're in Middle-earth right now! Oh. I see. You've misunderstood.
I am a paid and registered employee at the Fanfiction.net Headquarters. Where is it? Right here! I work at Fanfiction.net as none other than a writer. My compositions are definitely not as good as others, but at Fanfiction.net, all kinds of writers are accepted. The only problem is that certain types of literature are illegal now. That would include the actor fics, question fics, polls, and a couple other pieces here and there.
Myself and millions of other fellow writers come into work here everyday; twenty-four seven. The Fanfiction.net Headquarters, or simply the FFNH, is an enormous campus, considering the fact that there are many employees here. There are two bases: The Fanfiction, Base I; and The Original Fiction, Base II. Within each base are separate facilities. For example, Base I is divided into Anime, Books, Cartoons, Games, etceteras, etceteras. And even after that it is broken into the different buildings, which contain the individual fan categories. The Lord of the Rings , written by J.R.R. Tolkien, in the Books Facilities should be your current location. Specific address? I;202;382;R1. R1 is for row one. That means that you should be on the first page of the LOTR fanfiction. If you aren't, then the address should change.
In addition to all this business information, FFNH has the materials that a writer needs. After checking in, registered authors can get to their workstations at the Directory Gate (left of the south-east corner of BaseI). Each author has his or her own air-conditioned office room. A tall file cabinet is necessary for storing all Original Creations. A free lock or chain with every storage cabinet you purchase... just to be safe.
FFNH has a health room. Stop by there if you accidentally get pulverized by the orc herd that tends to march in on you randomly. They also carry a wide variety of multiple remedies that will attempt to cure Deprivus Ideanious, a.k.a.- Writer's Block. Other than light mallets for head whapping, (which I find is a quite successful medicine... at times) gardens and lovely flourishing walkways are available at all times to inspire ideas for romance and such. There are also craggy abysses and landscapes to shake out the feelings of depression, angst, and utter terror and suffering for the other categories. A very clean cafeteria provides sodas and candies, obviously providing material for the humor and parody genres!
But with such a huge campus, how can authors like us get to different sections without collapsing to death of walking a good one-hundred miles to go next door? That's where the bus comes in handy!
"Ow!" I seethed through gritted teeth as Tasha's head came knocking into mine at the final halt of the bus, "I hate it when that happens."
We waited for the front half of the bus to step off and line up at the Directory Gate. Soon, we had taken our steps off the bus, and after everyone else had come off, the vehicle suddenly disappeared with a flash of white and a gun-shot bang. Tasha jumped into me again, causing both of us to wobble out of balance, then topple over to the floor. Our fellow authors were careful enough to take one large step to the side.
"I hate it when that happens too..." I mumbled, roughly bucking Tasha off my back and taking a swift step to rise. My friend lay there on the cement with a hyperly dazed look on her face. It took a few blinks of confusion to realize that people were staring at us.
"Stooge," I finished as I shook my head and walked up to the Login Counter. Tasha skipped after me.
"I'm not a stooge!" she whimpered, peering curiously over my shoulder to witness my hand reach for my wallet in my pocket, "I'm just hyper and ignorant! And Jackie is Stooge. I'm Stupid. And you're Moron! And Meggy is Weirdo!"
I continued to scrummage around the pockets of my wallet, looking for my Login ID. After remembering that my ID was actually waiting for me in the most obvious place of my wallet; the ID pocket, I slipped it out and inserted it into the Login slot.
All registered Authors will receive an ID card after they have applied to the job. It states your penname, your number, total stories written, latest updates, your address, and a short biography of yourself. If an author decides to change his or her ID information, then they have to get to their office building and send in the correct changes to the FFNH Administration Office.
"Welcome: Naheka and Joe the Nazgul," came the electronic voice out the the Login Counter, "Would you be interested in---"
"No," I replied before the advertisement could keep explaining, "I would not be interested in a cheap piece of merchandise that is sold for fifty times its worth. No-thank-you very much!" I passed through the Directory Gate and bid a farewell Stupid before hopping onto another bus that lead to I;202;382;R1.
Everything was going beautifully for me for the first five minutes when I had arrived at I;202;382;R1. I had picked up a mug of hot chocolate to warm my morning and decided to sit down at a white stone bench in the south-west garden. Elegant ivory fountains, surrounded by the golden Elanor and silver Niphredil rested in the left corner of my eye. Athelas sprouted along the cobbled walkway and flowed out into the following valley like a river in its current. Tindomerels chirped in the trees behind me. I could see a blue sky above my head with a stream of white wispy clouds.
Pure tranquility and peace.... A pleasant fiction not for long.
"Attention all Registered Fiction Authors of 382," announced an elderly woman's voice out of a speaker from nowhere, "Attention all Registered Fiction Authors of 382. We have two Original Creations corrupting the peace by sparring in the northern plaza. A female in her late tweens, early twenties; and a male in his late thirties to mid-forties. Both dark hair and disturbingly evil green eyes. If they are of your creation, please come by and restrain them before they destroy the thousand dollar statue--oh! Too late! They already did!"
"Oh my, Eru," I sighed woefully. These had to be my characters. Who else would start a fight in the north plaza? The north plaza held priceless pottery and other pieces of artwork in a neat row of display cases. It was a sort of gallery, except it opened to the sky, making it partially outside, and without the safety railings and precautions. Safety glass cases to protect the displays, for example.
~*~
Smash!...Tink... tink... crash!
"Why! Don't! You! Just! Stop! Picking! On! Me!"
Sparks between clashing blades bounced to the floor.
"I'm not picking on you! I'm trying to kill you!"
"Then stop it!"
"I will once you're dead!"
Onikunshu Ryunarasu was definitely not the best person in the universe to mess with. A shape shifter that could change from a human to a dragon, he was the almighty supreme lord of the Ryunarasu Clan, which was a family that had dedicated its traditions to becoming bounty hunters. His pale skin was clad in flowing robes of black fabric, and the shadows of his face could not hide the blazing emerald green of his eyes. His eldest daughter, who resentfully, hatefully, and disgracefully shared my penname, Naheka, had very similar features on her darker, yet still slightly pale skin. But her steps in her leather boots were much lighter and quicker than her father's, who kept a firm grip on the earth.
Both characters were excellent fighters, or to be more precise, assassins; skilled with the double-ended spears they wielded. This was made the obvious as NahekaOC performed a back-flip and landed with a split just in time to block a strike from her opponent. Onikunshu did a bluff jab before cutting at her head. She sprung up on her legs and ducked a half centimeter under it. He almost had her that time. With a parry and a clever trip, she almost got him flat on the floor, until Onikunshu used one end of his weapon to rebound himself off the ground before he fell. The battle continued on.
"Why are dey fighting anyway?" asked Aremis through a bite of a shiny red apple. She was NahekaOC's only daughter, thus another creation of mine. "I don't undershtand. What'sh the point of revenge," she swallowed her mouthful, "If this is the AU world? Plots and conflicts shouldn't matter! ...You want the rest?" she added to her twelve-year-old brother who sat beside her. She held the half eaten fruit in front of his face.
This was Aldarion, a special youth that was supposed to be destined to save the world from doom and destruction because he was The Chosen One... chosen by some-mystical-person-of-whos-identity-I-do-not-know. His long dark auburn hair was tied together in a low ponytail, just as it had always been, and his eyes were the same shade that of his mother's... and grandfather's. Aldarion's features greatly contrasted to Aremis', who had long golden hair, pointy ears, and eyes of clear sapphire. Obviously inherited from her father---
"That stupid elf!" roared Onikunshu, "If it weren't for that lousy blonde scum, you wouldn't be so disobedient! Thanks to him, I have to destroy you!"
"Not if I destroy you first!" retorted NahekaOC. She shifted to the side in order to avoid her blade from colliding into a fellow OC that was passing by. She shrieked a very feminine screech before cowardly dashing off to find her lover that would protect her, rouge hair flying off in the wind behind her... which was really weird because there is no wind in the enclosed northern plaza.
Aldarion shook his head in refusal of his sister's eaten apple. But another fruit was offered to him from his left, this one three-quarters eaten.
"Do you want mine?" inquired a lovely female elven voice. Elvea blinked her radiant mahogany eyes tenderly at Aldarion, gracefully brushing a ringlet of dark raven hair out of her gently pale face. Her loving stare quickly turned into a seductive gaze as Aldarion froze in his position, too terrified to move.
Aremis tossed her apple over her shoulder where it unpleasantly crashed through a fragile display case. She ignored it and said to her brother: "Now's your cue."
Aldarion blinked. Then he turned to look back at Elvea, who was scooting closer to him. Aremis was right. It was his cue. Aldarion screamed.
"Nooo! Get away from me! I don't like you!"
Elvea chased after her first love as he jumped from his seat and began running away like a madman. Whatever obstacle he leaped over, she ducked under. Whatever barrier he went around, she broke through.
Meanwhile, Onikunshu and NahekaOC, once realizing that they weren't the ones being watched anymore, had put their weapons aside and were drinking green tea as they sat on a nearby wooden bench, talking like a caring father and loving daughter.
"And I remember our first meeting so clearly," said daughter in a happy reminiscent tone, "I insulted him three times in one sentence! Oh, how precious it was to see him get all angry and everything."
Onikunshu took a sip of his tea and replied in the same pleasant tone, "How wonderful! Now, I recall the first time I contacted him. Though I do regret it, I was pleased to see that I gave him a good whap of a bruise on his left shin, and a beautiful burn on his right cheek!"
"Lovely!"
They both cackled evilly in pleasure, surprisingly not dropping any tea on their laps. It seemed... insanely frightening in a sort of way.
With a light step of Aldarion's leap, the bench they were sitting on jiggled slightly. NahekaOC and Onikunshu watched him jump over the edge and run off into another corridor. Shrugging, they carried on with conversation. Then, the bench completely toppled over when Elvea pounced on the seat and bounded over the edge.
Aldarion ignored his mother's and grandfather's outrageous bellows of fury as he kept running.
Really, it would have been better for him and myself if he had stopped.
"No! Stop! Wild creation! I command you!"
Eeerrrggghhh! Voosh! Crash! Crack!... Boom!... Thud.
"...Agh. My head..."
And just to think... I hadn't even sat down at my desk yet. Oh what a day this would be....
I don't know for how long I've wanted to torture and/or make fun of my own characters! I love my job...
Note: This fic is NOT interactive. I will not accept any more requests, and anonymous requests will be deleted from my review board.
Author's Note:
This is technically my own and original idea. I have not taken it off anyone, nor extracted it from a written or published composition. It has been encouraged by a few, including myself, so I am confident that this is not a completely stupid and pathetic idea.
Hope you enjoy this! But I'm going to keep writing it whether anyone likes it or not!
-Naheka
My right eye twitched irratatedly with utter annoyance as I listened to Tasha rant about some random crazy anime saga. In realization of my obvious resistance to anything that had to do with robots and outer space, driven by a lovesick hero or whatever, she silenced herself and slumped in her chair. The bus jolted slightly as it came to a rough stop in front of someone's house. As the doors slid open, a girl with short crimson hair walked on board. Dark mascara and ruby-red lipstick was plastered on her powdery white skin. Black six-inch platform shoes covered her feet, accompanied by a hiked-up scarlet plaid skirt and a black, tight, spandex-like shirt on her torso bore the message: "LEGOLAS IZ MYN, SO F**K OFF!"
Half of the bus raised an eyebrow at her. She took a seat at the front of the bus as she popped a tart of pink gum into her mouth. Who in this world would know that this would be a very normal day today, for she would be going to Middle-earth. So--what? You think it wouldn't be normal to go to Middle-earth? Ridiculous! I go there every day! You're surprised? That's odd. Don't you go to Middle-earth everyday? You're in Middle-earth right now! Oh. I see. You've misunderstood.
I am a paid and registered employee at the Fanfiction.net Headquarters. Where is it? Right here! I work at Fanfiction.net as none other than a writer. My compositions are definitely not as good as others, but at Fanfiction.net, all kinds of writers are accepted. The only problem is that certain types of literature are illegal now. That would include the actor fics, question fics, polls, and a couple other pieces here and there.
Myself and millions of other fellow writers come into work here everyday; twenty-four seven. The Fanfiction.net Headquarters, or simply the FFNH, is an enormous campus, considering the fact that there are many employees here. There are two bases: The Fanfiction, Base I; and The Original Fiction, Base II. Within each base are separate facilities. For example, Base I is divided into Anime, Books, Cartoons, Games, etceteras, etceteras. And even after that it is broken into the different buildings, which contain the individual fan categories. The Lord of the Rings , written by J.R.R. Tolkien, in the Books Facilities should be your current location. Specific address? I;202;382;R1. R1 is for row one. That means that you should be on the first page of the LOTR fanfiction. If you aren't, then the address should change.
In addition to all this business information, FFNH has the materials that a writer needs. After checking in, registered authors can get to their workstations at the Directory Gate (left of the south-east corner of BaseI). Each author has his or her own air-conditioned office room. A tall file cabinet is necessary for storing all Original Creations. A free lock or chain with every storage cabinet you purchase... just to be safe.
FFNH has a health room. Stop by there if you accidentally get pulverized by the orc herd that tends to march in on you randomly. They also carry a wide variety of multiple remedies that will attempt to cure Deprivus Ideanious, a.k.a.- Writer's Block. Other than light mallets for head whapping, (which I find is a quite successful medicine... at times) gardens and lovely flourishing walkways are available at all times to inspire ideas for romance and such. There are also craggy abysses and landscapes to shake out the feelings of depression, angst, and utter terror and suffering for the other categories. A very clean cafeteria provides sodas and candies, obviously providing material for the humor and parody genres!
But with such a huge campus, how can authors like us get to different sections without collapsing to death of walking a good one-hundred miles to go next door? That's where the bus comes in handy!
"Ow!" I seethed through gritted teeth as Tasha's head came knocking into mine at the final halt of the bus, "I hate it when that happens."
We waited for the front half of the bus to step off and line up at the Directory Gate. Soon, we had taken our steps off the bus, and after everyone else had come off, the vehicle suddenly disappeared with a flash of white and a gun-shot bang. Tasha jumped into me again, causing both of us to wobble out of balance, then topple over to the floor. Our fellow authors were careful enough to take one large step to the side.
"I hate it when that happens too..." I mumbled, roughly bucking Tasha off my back and taking a swift step to rise. My friend lay there on the cement with a hyperly dazed look on her face. It took a few blinks of confusion to realize that people were staring at us.
"Stooge," I finished as I shook my head and walked up to the Login Counter. Tasha skipped after me.
"I'm not a stooge!" she whimpered, peering curiously over my shoulder to witness my hand reach for my wallet in my pocket, "I'm just hyper and ignorant! And Jackie is Stooge. I'm Stupid. And you're Moron! And Meggy is Weirdo!"
I continued to scrummage around the pockets of my wallet, looking for my Login ID. After remembering that my ID was actually waiting for me in the most obvious place of my wallet; the ID pocket, I slipped it out and inserted it into the Login slot.
All registered Authors will receive an ID card after they have applied to the job. It states your penname, your number, total stories written, latest updates, your address, and a short biography of yourself. If an author decides to change his or her ID information, then they have to get to their office building and send in the correct changes to the FFNH Administration Office.
"Welcome: Naheka and Joe the Nazgul," came the electronic voice out the the Login Counter, "Would you be interested in---"
"No," I replied before the advertisement could keep explaining, "I would not be interested in a cheap piece of merchandise that is sold for fifty times its worth. No-thank-you very much!" I passed through the Directory Gate and bid a farewell Stupid before hopping onto another bus that lead to I;202;382;R1.
Everything was going beautifully for me for the first five minutes when I had arrived at I;202;382;R1. I had picked up a mug of hot chocolate to warm my morning and decided to sit down at a white stone bench in the south-west garden. Elegant ivory fountains, surrounded by the golden Elanor and silver Niphredil rested in the left corner of my eye. Athelas sprouted along the cobbled walkway and flowed out into the following valley like a river in its current. Tindomerels chirped in the trees behind me. I could see a blue sky above my head with a stream of white wispy clouds.
Pure tranquility and peace.... A pleasant fiction not for long.
"Attention all Registered Fiction Authors of 382," announced an elderly woman's voice out of a speaker from nowhere, "Attention all Registered Fiction Authors of 382. We have two Original Creations corrupting the peace by sparring in the northern plaza. A female in her late tweens, early twenties; and a male in his late thirties to mid-forties. Both dark hair and disturbingly evil green eyes. If they are of your creation, please come by and restrain them before they destroy the thousand dollar statue--oh! Too late! They already did!"
"Oh my, Eru," I sighed woefully. These had to be my characters. Who else would start a fight in the north plaza? The north plaza held priceless pottery and other pieces of artwork in a neat row of display cases. It was a sort of gallery, except it opened to the sky, making it partially outside, and without the safety railings and precautions. Safety glass cases to protect the displays, for example.
~*~
Smash!...Tink... tink... crash!
"Why! Don't! You! Just! Stop! Picking! On! Me!"
Sparks between clashing blades bounced to the floor.
"I'm not picking on you! I'm trying to kill you!"
"Then stop it!"
"I will once you're dead!"
Onikunshu Ryunarasu was definitely not the best person in the universe to mess with. A shape shifter that could change from a human to a dragon, he was the almighty supreme lord of the Ryunarasu Clan, which was a family that had dedicated its traditions to becoming bounty hunters. His pale skin was clad in flowing robes of black fabric, and the shadows of his face could not hide the blazing emerald green of his eyes. His eldest daughter, who resentfully, hatefully, and disgracefully shared my penname, Naheka, had very similar features on her darker, yet still slightly pale skin. But her steps in her leather boots were much lighter and quicker than her father's, who kept a firm grip on the earth.
Both characters were excellent fighters, or to be more precise, assassins; skilled with the double-ended spears they wielded. This was made the obvious as NahekaOC performed a back-flip and landed with a split just in time to block a strike from her opponent. Onikunshu did a bluff jab before cutting at her head. She sprung up on her legs and ducked a half centimeter under it. He almost had her that time. With a parry and a clever trip, she almost got him flat on the floor, until Onikunshu used one end of his weapon to rebound himself off the ground before he fell. The battle continued on.
"Why are dey fighting anyway?" asked Aremis through a bite of a shiny red apple. She was NahekaOC's only daughter, thus another creation of mine. "I don't undershtand. What'sh the point of revenge," she swallowed her mouthful, "If this is the AU world? Plots and conflicts shouldn't matter! ...You want the rest?" she added to her twelve-year-old brother who sat beside her. She held the half eaten fruit in front of his face.
This was Aldarion, a special youth that was supposed to be destined to save the world from doom and destruction because he was The Chosen One... chosen by some-mystical-person-of-whos-identity-I-do-not-know. His long dark auburn hair was tied together in a low ponytail, just as it had always been, and his eyes were the same shade that of his mother's... and grandfather's. Aldarion's features greatly contrasted to Aremis', who had long golden hair, pointy ears, and eyes of clear sapphire. Obviously inherited from her father---
"That stupid elf!" roared Onikunshu, "If it weren't for that lousy blonde scum, you wouldn't be so disobedient! Thanks to him, I have to destroy you!"
"Not if I destroy you first!" retorted NahekaOC. She shifted to the side in order to avoid her blade from colliding into a fellow OC that was passing by. She shrieked a very feminine screech before cowardly dashing off to find her lover that would protect her, rouge hair flying off in the wind behind her... which was really weird because there is no wind in the enclosed northern plaza.
Aldarion shook his head in refusal of his sister's eaten apple. But another fruit was offered to him from his left, this one three-quarters eaten.
"Do you want mine?" inquired a lovely female elven voice. Elvea blinked her radiant mahogany eyes tenderly at Aldarion, gracefully brushing a ringlet of dark raven hair out of her gently pale face. Her loving stare quickly turned into a seductive gaze as Aldarion froze in his position, too terrified to move.
Aremis tossed her apple over her shoulder where it unpleasantly crashed through a fragile display case. She ignored it and said to her brother: "Now's your cue."
Aldarion blinked. Then he turned to look back at Elvea, who was scooting closer to him. Aremis was right. It was his cue. Aldarion screamed.
"Nooo! Get away from me! I don't like you!"
Elvea chased after her first love as he jumped from his seat and began running away like a madman. Whatever obstacle he leaped over, she ducked under. Whatever barrier he went around, she broke through.
Meanwhile, Onikunshu and NahekaOC, once realizing that they weren't the ones being watched anymore, had put their weapons aside and were drinking green tea as they sat on a nearby wooden bench, talking like a caring father and loving daughter.
"And I remember our first meeting so clearly," said daughter in a happy reminiscent tone, "I insulted him three times in one sentence! Oh, how precious it was to see him get all angry and everything."
Onikunshu took a sip of his tea and replied in the same pleasant tone, "How wonderful! Now, I recall the first time I contacted him. Though I do regret it, I was pleased to see that I gave him a good whap of a bruise on his left shin, and a beautiful burn on his right cheek!"
"Lovely!"
They both cackled evilly in pleasure, surprisingly not dropping any tea on their laps. It seemed... insanely frightening in a sort of way.
With a light step of Aldarion's leap, the bench they were sitting on jiggled slightly. NahekaOC and Onikunshu watched him jump over the edge and run off into another corridor. Shrugging, they carried on with conversation. Then, the bench completely toppled over when Elvea pounced on the seat and bounded over the edge.
Aldarion ignored his mother's and grandfather's outrageous bellows of fury as he kept running.
Really, it would have been better for him and myself if he had stopped.
"No! Stop! Wild creation! I command you!"
Eeerrrggghhh! Voosh! Crash! Crack!... Boom!... Thud.
"...Agh. My head..."
And just to think... I hadn't even sat down at my desk yet. Oh what a day this would be....
I don't know for how long I've wanted to torture and/or make fun of my own characters! I love my job...
Note: This fic is NOT interactive. I will not accept any more requests, and anonymous requests will be deleted from my review board.