Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony (Imma gonna talk about them down below) but then, everything changed when the Grammar Nazion attacked.
Only the Wordbender, master of all four elements can stop them, but when Literature needed him most, he vanished.
A hundredmilibillitrilliquadriquntisextiseptioctinonideciundecelitredecellion years pass my sword and I discover the new Wordbender, an Trippybender named Afartar and although his Imagination skills are great, he has much to learn before he can save anyone.
But I believe, Afartar can save the world.
*TOGGLE ASIAN DRUMS MUSIC*
So, that is probably the story that is to come in this thread. I want to write a fanfiction that shows me as an epic little frick. I will base the story on the present and my past, so expect some fanfic writers' names will be added.
So the four nations: One is Minecraft, One is the physical representation of the Literature section, one is a robot metropoplis (idk) and the last nation is made out of imaginaaaaation.
You guys are able to shape the story with your comments. From the comments so far I will incorporate it into the story.
Book One: Style
My awesome story begins in the Northern Style Tribe, a large icy landscape filled with soft snow, hard ice and of course, the Stylebender village.
The Stylebenders channeled the element of Style which, if you didn’t understand the first time, means they are very stylish. Before the Grammar Nazion attacked and screwed up the world, the Stylebenders were leading in style cause…
They were cool.
Get it? They’re in the ice so, so… I’ll leave now. Aaanyway, we don’t need to talk about Stylebender culture and penguin war tactics for the moment. We will be focusing on one Stylebender. Because of the war, she has lost everything; her house, her parents’ dog and her music downloads. What’s left of her possessions is her sword which is engraved with the word ‘Time’, which became its name.
Her name is Oncie Long, most commonly known as Once. “Once” because she just needs to slash her sword once, and you’re dead. The only thing that has given anyone a small chance to beat her is her lack of Stylebending training, something she dreams of often.
Oncie was walking on flat ice during a fairly regular day. The tribe had Oncie and all the other women hunt fish, tan leather and all the hard work. All men in the Stylebender tribes could Stylebend and thus were FABULOUS!!! That said, all the slim, beautiful Stylebenders of the village (I refer to all of them) donned their rainbow coats and sailed to the Vocabulary Kingdoms to help them in the war against the Grammar Nazion. The Stylebenders were master boatmen and could outmaneuver the steel ships of the Nazion while launching rainbow beams and fashion at them.
This is why they haven’t been defeated yet. Such is their Style.
Oncie, like all the Southern Style Tribe females, wore simple heavy blue cloaks to keep the cold out. Normally the women would use fishing spears, but Oncie had her sword Time with her, a weapon she had spent a long time mastering.
Soon she reached the edge of the flat ice and dipped her sword on the frigid waters. Through some weird magicks, several dead fish floated lifelessly into the surface. Grabbing them and stuffing them in a sack, she continued to hunt for more fish. She needed a lot of fish to get her rep points to a safe number so she wouldn’t be shunned.
You see, the Stylebenders system was based on reputation or “rep”. The more rep you gain, the more awesome you will be in the Tribe’s eyes. When you have reached an awesome enough level, the latent Style in every Tribe member will awaken and will bring you Stylebending.
“Must be fabuloouus,” Oncie muttered, lengthening out the word as all Style Tribespeople do.
She saw a possible fishing spot beside a nearby ice flat. She saw a path of broken ice towards it and hopped. As she stepped on the ice flat she smelled something.
It smelled like a fart. It wasn’t like any fart she knew. This fart held the smell of fresh oranges and fragrant flowers and yet, she knew deep in her heart that the scent was a form of fart. Looking around she saw a spiky ice formation with something inside. She walked nearer towards it and the smell grew. As she went nearer she saw the shape was humanoid, but it wore clothing she was unfamiliar with.
It was a rainbow of color in every place she looked at. One moment the entire shirt was filled with different shades of green then shifted into a dull rainbow. She stopped, looking at it for a moment to understand what she was seeing. She didn’t had the chance.
The ice cracked, slowly, at first then the crack lines covered the entire ice in seconds. A moment later the ice split into hundreds of fragments as a rainbow-colored energy blasted it away in a wave.
As soon as the wave hit Oncie, her mind felt more open somehow. It felt like she could see different worlds with different people. Then the feeling left. Once looked around and saw the wave continue in an orb around the now broken ice formation.
And what was left was the person.
Oncie ran to the kinda-fabulous person which she now saw was a male. She kneeled before his unconscious form and tried to shake him awake.
Oncie studied his face. It was magnificent. His hair…magnificent. His everything was glorious. Oncie knew if this person opened his eyes, the angels would cry in joy. And he did.
And Oncie swore she felt a drop of water land on her head.
The person’s eyes swiveled to Oncie, the power radiating from them froze her in place.
“Ww-ho are you?” She stuttered out with some difficulty. When the person spoke, she felt another drop of water land on her head.
“I am Afartar,” He said.
Somewhere, a Grammar Nazion ship sailed towards the rainbow light. A square yet humanoid shape stood, it’s square eyes calculating data from the colored lights. Known to many as the Story Creator Model 1020, the Exiled Prince of the Grammar Nazion.
“It’s the Wordbender,” S.C.1020 muttered. “We should collab sometime…”
“Ah, prince S.C., what is going on in your thought process?” A voice asked from behind. S.C turned and looked at Dejers, the French-Name-Sounding-Yet-Not-French-I-Think Uncle of S.C.
“We have found the Wordbender. After A hundredmilibillitrilliquadriquntisextiseptioctinonideciundecelitredecellion years of searching I have finally found him,”
“Are you sure that is him,” Dejers the Maybe-French asked. S.C gave him a look.
“I can feel it in my batteries, Uncle.” He turned his robotic gaze back to the lights, which were quickly fading.
“Soon I can redeem my honour as I capture the Wordbender and take my place by my father’s side! Muhahaha!” Zuko said with anticipation.
“Uh, there’s no u in ‘honor’ and you shouldn’t put the laugh in the speech,” Dejers said. If robots could give glares S.C would have gladly given his uncle one.
“Frickin’ Grammar Nazi,”
~~Arfatar~~
After Oncie found me, she knew I was awesome.
I couldn’t agree more.
She talked about the Wordbender being gone for a hundredmilibillitrilliquadriquntisextiseptioctinonideciundecelitredecellion years.
“The Wordbender’s been gone for a hundredmilibillitrilliquadriquntisextiseptioctinonideciundecelitredecellion years!”
I told her I was gone for the same amount of time.
“We should shorten the amount to,” I paused, ‘hmmming’, “Lots of Years,” I finished, a triumphant smile that showed blindingly white teeth on my blindingly white face.
Oncie gasped.
“You could do that?” She asked through squinted eyes, trying hard to keep sight of my awesomenatility even with my teeth kinda almost blinding her.
“Yes, because I am amazing.”
“You must be the Wordbender!”
“I am.”
“Can you use all four elements? Did you have to travel around the world with your friends to meet different masters of the bending arts to achieve superior skill yet left the last chakra for your love interest?”
“Yes, I have done that already.” I finished. I looked back at the spot where I was sleeping. I don’t know how I got there, only the fact that I needed to be there to be plot-relevant and to imitate a certain TV show episode.
“I need my ride,”
For a moment, I felt a wish from a past life in my head.
A small distance away from the ice flat me and the Stylebender was on, a large pig the size of a house appeared. The pig was round, cuddly and had a pig pink nose that made me squeal inside. It had beautiful majestic pure white wings on its sides. Its two black oval eyes focused on me.
“Flying Pig!” I called in joyous greeting.
The Flying Pig was an unknown species of dinosaur that existed a ‘Lots of Years’ ago. It was my friend because it was pink and could take to any McDonalds chain I wanted.
“Mooo!” It called back to me. Without needing to look, I knew Oncie was giving me a questioning eyebrow. I turned and took it from her opened palm.
“Thanks,” I said. Flying Pig mooed again, this time with the faint rumble from her stomach. Being underwater for a ‘Lots of Years’ can make one hungry.
On the far distance, Dejers the Confirmed-Unfrench-But-Now-I-Think-Is-Spanish was looking at the on-board wireless television watching Captain Asane Targoss, Head of the Grammar Nazion Navy, or the GNN. His appearance was a square torch with a small flame floating above the part which could probably be his face.
“Hello, this is GNN and I am Asane Targoss, your captain for today. Here’s a basic rundown on the news we have right now.”
“Oncie Long; Returned to the Stylebenders?”
“S.C.1020; Friend or Foe of the Grammar Nazion?”
“Mass Murderer Caanagan on the loose in the Vocabulary Kingdoms.”
“Mad Scientist Love Triangle Spirals Out of Control!”
Dejers the Maybe-Spanish turned off the television with his grammer powers. He was inside one of the rooms, which was made entirely of metal. The entire ship was made of metal and it moved through Grammarbending. He looked at the television, and stared at it.
And stare at it he did.
S.C was on the Control Room, working up a sweat, I mean… working up an oil. He stared blankly ahead but in reality was focusing in concentration.
“The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward…”
And thus the boat moved. Feeling exhausted he passed the job to a Grammar Nazion soldier, or a G-Nazi for short.
“The boat moved forward.. The boat moved forward.. The boat moved forward..”
S.C. turned around, his anger levels rising.
“Fool!” He said to the G-Nazi, which looked at him in surprise and now with a growing fear. “You should say that with THREE dots, not two! Do you want us to miss the Afartar with the snail’s pace you’re giving us?” With that S.C stormed off like a robot because he is a robot.
“I need to smash some melons to cool down..” He muttered. The G-Nazi didn’t hear the rest, which suspiciously sounded like a lordship over large green oval fruits.
The G-Nazi lowered his head, his eyes on the floor in shame.
“Pick up those eyes from the floor. It’s gross.” And he left, leaving the G-Nazi to his devices.
“Maybe if I use a fork I could get it without dirtying my hands,” he wondered aloud.
Somewhere in the Vocabulary Kingdoms, Dr. Zeiu S. Tepali or more commonly known as “Captain Universe” shot down a hundreds G-Nazi with his ultimate universal power!
“Soon I will use my ultimate universal power power to destroy the Grammar Nazion and bring peace back to the world!” He screamed triumphantly.
But he wasn’t me, the main character of this story so he died.
Or did he?
Back at the Stylebending village, I was break-dancing. Flying Pig was munching apple-penguin giblets as I competed with the local Stylebenders. At the end, they have accepted me as their own of their own, named me their King and gave me hugs and kisses. Only Oncie Long stood apart, looking at me with suspicion.
“It took me years to get a meager scrap of rep and he just comes in and becomes the ultimate fabuloouus person here. He doesn’t even need the rep!” She muttered to herself darkly. She looked for her brother, more commonly known as the Mad Scientist. No one knows his real name, except for Oncie Long and me. I know because I am awesome.
His most recent invention was the Love Triangle, a handheld pyramid object that generated love so powerful it could destroy peanut butter. Because of some freak accident (or intentional sabotage… gasp! Subtle foreshadowing!) his invention failed and he was looking sadly into the ground. His head was buried halfway into the hard ice when Oncie walked to him.
He wore a camouflage pattern that copied the universe so aliens would see through their telescopes and not see him. How can they see him with their telescopes, you ask? Because they’re aliens, and their stuff is high-tech so much it’s…
Out of this world. I said it.
Oncie considered talking to him, but thought of it otherwise. She just sat on the ice beside her brother, who was actually repairing the Love Triangle in secret underneath the ice so the readers wouldn’t know, and stared at me, wondering what to do.
~Afartar~
Day something, year I-dunno.
A new member of the Tribe came today, said his name was Fang. Claimed stuff like an escaped prince from the Northern Style Tribe. When we asked why, his answer was pretty peculiar.
“Bro, they have this entire prophesy around me dying for fish! Dude, I eat sushi!”
But since Fang didn’t beat Flying Pig in terms of weird, he was permitted to stay. I looked at his ghostly body and penguin-face, and laughed. I am so much awesome that him. I looked at Flying Pig with his new tray of apple-penguin giblets. I figured out his real gender and edited the first chapter without any of the Style Tribe Members noticing.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I warned him. He looked at the ethereal form of Fang trying to grab a snowball, but realized he just passed through stuff.
“Moo,” Flying Pig replied.
“Still having that identity crisis thing?”
“Yes,” Flying Pig replied in the voice of Arnold Swarchenneeeggergermany. “Come with me if you want to live.”
“Nah I’m chill,” I said with a dismissive hand wave.
“I come from bacon.” Flying Pig persisted, still in the voice of Arnold Swarchegerman.
“No.” I said with finality. Flying Pig shrugged with his feathers and continued munching on apple-penguin giblets. They were supposed to be just apples in the original plan but I liked how giblets looked and sounded.
Giblets.
Somewhere non-giblet related, S.C.1020 was smaching some melons in his room.
“I am MELON LORD!” He yelled, spewing burning oil from his metallic mouth. He turned his gaze to you, the reader or more specifically, the users who felt this was gonna happen.
“You happy now?”
Dejers the Guy-That-Likes-Latin-And-Confirmed-Unfrench-But-Now-I-Think-Is-An-Indonesian scrunched his eyebrows in irritation at his nephew’s melon obsession.
“Would you keep it down?” He yelled, his voice carrying to S.C’s room.
“I am MELON LORD, old fool! Nobody questions my power? My dominion over fruit is SUPREME, Maybe-Indonesian!” He yelled back.
“I’ll show you SUPREME when I bury my fist into your MELON of a head and smash your CPU!”
“I AM A ROBOT! I CANNOT COMPREHEND ROUND! EXCEPT IN WALL-E! EVA IS COOL!”
“STOP SPEAKING IN CAPS LOCK AND HOLD SHIFT LIKE A REAL MAN! PLUS WALL-E IS COOLER THAN EVA!”
“EVA!”
“WALL-E!”
“EVA!”
“WALL-E!”
To stop this pointless banter, I teleported to the ship.
“AFARTAR! Okaythanksbye!” I yelled before teleporting back. There was silence.
“It was the Wordbender! Quick, Uncle, full speed ahead to the Style Tribe Village! We have him now!”
In another scene in this story where I didn’t kill him, Dr. Zeiu S. Tepali kicked off the disembodied head from its shoulders, sending the kneeling body to the floor in blood. Smiling triumphantly, he sat on the Grammar Lord’s throne, now having an entire Nazion and soon, the world to conquer.
“With my ultimate universal power, I will rule the world!” He said triumphantly, then he gave a satisfied laugh. Feeling great, he gave another, this time more sinister. Then he let out a slowly rising cackle of evil laughter ringing out in the entire Grammar Nazion. Back in the Style Village, I felt something wrong.
“There is a disturbance in the force…”
And Mad Scientist was running to me, his Love Triangle held in his right hand.
“I did it!” He yelled.
Startled, I stood up, wondering what was going on.
“What happened?” I asked. This wasn’t part of the story I wrote...
“I did it!” Mad Scientist repeated, and for the first time I noticed the faint pink glow coming from the Love Triangle. The Entire Village gathered around Mad Scientist, curiosity and some fear in their minds. The last time Mad Scientist held the Love Triangle, it destroyed a large piece of ice that held the Avatar and was supposed to lead as the main character and become a full-fledged parody of the TV Show.
“I destroyed bacon!” He yelled triumphantly. I gasped. Flying Pig gasped, dropping the gibletty gliblet from his mouth. The crowd gasped. Oncie Long gasped. Prince Fang gasped. S.C.1020 gasped. Dr. Zeiu S. Tepali gasped. Captain Asane Targoss gasped. Dejers the Maybe-Indonesian gasped. Mass Murderer Caanagan gasped.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
A voice raing across the entire world, thick with benevolence and joy.
“I am the ultimate being! I am called Actual Plot! I will save your fruitless lives from the self-gratifying machinations of Afartar and the ultimate universal power of Zeau Tepali!”
A yell of anger rose as a small humanoid figure flew at a comet’s speed towards the heavens.
“WHEN YOU USE MY NAME YOU KEEP THE S.!” Dr. Zeiu S. Tepali screamed in fury, his fist unleashing his ultimate universal power.
Before his fist reached the clouds, I froze the story.
My fingers got tired so tune in for the next chapter!
~Afartar~
I’m rested, full of ideas and ready to continue.
I unpaused the world, letting life go on except for Zeu S. Tepali. His body was still bathed in heat and ultimate universal power, his face a mask of hate and anger.
The whole world could see him, because the world was flat because I say so because I’m cool just because.
“What was that?” Oncie Long asked to nobody in particular. I turned to look at her with an evil smile.
“I’m gonna feed you to Flying Pig.” I said. I laughed darkly. “You dare to question my power in Page 3!” I accused. Shock enveloped her face.
“No! I am but a fictional character! OnceInaLongTime and I are different in many ways!” She begged, practically on her knees now, tears streaming down her cheeks like a waterfall. Considering her pleas, I found that I sorta kinda maybe slightly tinily unsurely suspiciously not really agree.
“Alright, I’ll teleport S.C’s ship here and leave you to fight them alone.” I said with sick joy. She smiled at me, and I was unnerved, only for a moment.
“That’s easy.”
Because I’m too lazy to describe horror of the Village or the ice cracking from their ship, S.C1020, Dejers the Confirmed-Unspanish-and-Unchinese-Darn-You-I-Was-Gonna-Use-That-Later-But-Now-I-Think-You’re-Japanese and his G-Nazis.
This is the part where you gasp in horror, reader.
“Wordbender, I have heard your voice, come near and be my prisoner!” S.C. called.
“Prince S.C., you forgot to put a period after your ‘C’ in the paragraph where you were mentioned,” Dejers the –Maybe-Japanoid said.
“Oh, shut up, Uncle. No reader will care about my period!”
Dejers snickered.
“What’s funny?” S.C. asked, careful to add the period.
“Nothing, get back to the plot, Prince.”
And he did.
“I am here, Grammar Soldier.” I called. I looked at Oncie Long with an evil grin and teleported her in front of Prince S.C.
“Will you come peacefully?” S.C. asked right before I gave Oncie a bit of body-control and had her slash Time across S.C. guts.
But S.C. was a robot and everybody knows robots are protected by their inherent coolness field. Time didn’t even got close.
“Fool! You die!”
And they fought.
Oncie charged at S.C., Time already ready for a single finishing blow. Before Oncie’s sword touched S.C. metal body, he disappeared and reappeared behind her in an eyeblink.
“I’m a PC, so you will lag when you and any other high-graphics game go near me,” S.C. whispered to Oncie in Binary, one of the Lost Languages of the Ancients of Capital Lettering. His square head was so close to Oncie she could almost feel the lag field around S.C. “What’s more,” Oncie’s opponent continued in Binary, “I can do this-!” With a small grunt from S.C., Oncie Long felt a thin long spike protruding from her stomach.
“Lag spike, Wordbender. Nothing permanent, but it will paralyze you in all-enclosing rage-provoking lag,” He said, this time in normal language. Oncie couldn’t reply, her face a frozen mask of wide-eyed pain. A single tear shed down her left eye as two G-Nazis grabbed her by both hands and dragged her to the ship. S.C. looked triumphant and without another word, went back to the ship with his prize.
Soon he will become a true prince again. [Insert evil laugh here].
I watched.
“I know you now, S.C. You will fear me.” I said as the ship went away. Back to the Grammar Nazion.
“Soon. Very soon.”
I pondered this situation. Now that my rage on Page 3’s blasphemy has been exhausted, I wondered where the plot will go from here. Should I continue the TV Show’s plot? No, Oncie’s been captured. Should I rearrange reality and have me king with a lot of awesome adventures? I nod to myself.
I now know what to do.
Not after saving Oncie Long first. I want to do this not out of compassion or concern. I wanted to add one last scene that I never planned how to incorporate into the story without breaking some plot stuff.
I went back to the Style Village, where life continued as normal. The stink of fear was still in the air. The elders looked at me with suspicion now and the children were silent as they played. Mad Scientist was sitting cross-legged in front of a tent made of colorful, fabuloouus leather.
“My sister’s gone,” Mad whispered as I got close enough to hear. He wasn’t looking at me, his eyes boring straight into the Love Triangle on his palm, still glowing its faint aura.
“I could help you,” I say to him. Mad Scientist looked up at me, confused. “I could help you save her.” As soon as I said it his face exploded with relief and hope.
What a joyous feeling, I thought. I’m too awesome, though, so I don’t need hope.
“How?” He asked.
I looked at Flying Pig, nodding in her direction. She gazed at me with understanding, nodding thoughtfully with a frown on her face.
There was a reason why the Love Triangle is so powerful. In a world of vegetarians, meat gained in magical power. When the entire world turned vegetarian, meat became so charged with magical energy that it could alter reality with a whim.
And nothing’s stronger than bacon.
Seeing the paragraph I wanted written done, I sighed satisfactorily. I willed Flying Pig to change reality.
And the world of the four nations was gone.
Book Two: The Land of Porana
The world was ending.
In the planet of Porana, there was a prophecy that foretold the world’s destruction. The prophecy was found only a month after the globe-spanning Kingdom of 16 Monarchs’ Golden Age was announced. Amidst cities of joy and frolicking, the news swept the smiles from people’s faces like a tide and held it in a pot of boiling water, poking it with a spear and demanding it beg for mercy like how its mother begged last night.
Indeed, those words have easily expressed the grim fear every citizen on Porana had felt. Previously, the various continents and their lands were ruled by 16 monarchs who were all friendly with one another. Only days after the prophecy was discovered, paranoia and suspicion were cradled in the monarchs’ heads until each closed off its ties with other continents, leaving the world in isolated fear.
Among the 16, there are a few who wish to change the situation. Seeking to prevent the prophecy, Onciever Longstar of the South-East Continent left the governance of her territory to the people and disappeared on a quest. She was to find an ancient being more powerful than a thousand suns and twice as hot. Known by his stage name, “Fartehculus”, Oncie Long the “Warrior Queen” disappeared.
And on a rainy night, she faced a portal. At least, she thought it was. The structure was merely a blocky outline of a rectangle, the stone a dark purple color. What intrigued Oncie wasn’t the stone but rather, the bright purple screen inside the rectangle. It was swirling and shimmering and wasn’t anything Onciever has seen in her lifetime. She could even see her reflection, although it was tinted purple and hazy. What was clear to see though was her “unqueenliness”.
She was wearing a leather cloak to keep off the rain. Her black hair was unkempt and tangled in many places. Her pale white face, often clean and perfect, was smeared with dirt and grime. Hidden form sight was the great sword Time, one of the legendary swords of Porana and Oncie’s symbol of power. With this sword, the Warrior Queen stopped monster armies and the undead with only a few swings of her sword. Her fearlessness was said to be the result of a ghost scaring Onciever when she was young, paling her face and draining the life out of her. Without a sense of life in her, she ran to the ghost and destroyed it with her bare hands. Other rumors like that grew around her and often many of those rumors were true.
Onciever rummaged something from her pockets and held a small bright blue stone. She squeezed it slightly, making it give off a faint glow. Slowly the realm of mind and space joined between Onciever and another.
“Catter, are you awake?” Oncie asked telepathically. A faint mental nudge informed her that her contact was indeed, awake.
“I wish I wasn’t,” Catter replied, his thought patterns clearly showing her irritation at being woken up at 3 in the morning. “Where have you been? You have 15 monarchs vying to take your lands right under you. Your place is here in the palace.”
Oncie automatically waved her hand dismissively as a response. “That doesn’t matter much right now. Catter, I’ve found the weird magic thing you’ve been talking to me about.”
Even through mindspeak, Onciever heard Catticus sigh. She’d bet that her court wizard and best friend was rolling his eyes in his tower right now.
“You mean the portal, right?” Catticus Magen asked. Oncie nodded. Catter once again made a mental sigh. “You just yawned right now, didn’t you?” He didn’t need an answer. “Alright, go on then. I guess me and the Council can hold off the monarchs for now…”
“Alright, thank you, Catter,” Oncie said as she prepared to cut the link.
“Hey Oncie.”Catter suddenly said. Oncie was surprised for a moment before answering.
“What?”
“Be safe out there. Fartehculus might just be a myth. You could be walking into a trap.” All signs of sarcasm disappeared from his mental patterns and Oncie felt a little bit touched.
“Yeah? Well so could the prophecy but we’re all taking it seriously, right? Same principle here. Bye now, Catter. Be safe there. Keep the Head Guard with you as a bodyguard, alright?”
“Your ‘Head Guard’ has a name and it’s Dejers.”
“I still refuse to acknowledge him.”
Catter sighed. “Whatever. Bye.” And with that his presence in her mind disappeared. Oncie took a heavy breath, looking at the portal with a small sense of anxiety and fear.
“Too late to run away now,” Oncie muttered under her breath a moment before sprinting directly at the portal.
And then Onciever Longstar was gone from Porana.
~~~???~~~
In the moment where Onciever made contact with the portal, an immense feeling known to many very smart scientists as “weirdynessificationatory” crept through Oncie’s body like living gummy worms and jelly beans. It was a sweet, sickly and probably diabetic feeling that made her body feel like a sugar coated warrior queen.
Yet it only lasted a moment but stretched for infinity. With a blink, Oncie tried to differentiate the world she was seeing, the world she was in before and the strange eternal feeling in between. Onciever looked around and nodded to herself. This wasn’t Porana.
It wasn’t raining anymore. A sun almost twice as large as Porana’s own shone from above, with clouds floating in one uniform direction with almost equal widths like a moving jigsaw puzzle in the sky. The air was pleasant, unlike the harsh wetness of her kingdom. The portal on Porana was surrounded by trees, but now Onciever was in a small flatland with a few tall rocks jutting out from the ground here and there. Also, Onciever was standing in the middle of a sheep herd.
“Mmme-e-e-e-e-e-e-eeee!” A sheep went.
“Mmme-e-e-e-e-e-e-eeee!” Another called back.
“What did you mean by tha-a-a-at?” Momma sheep replied, shock evident in her voice.
“I shanked her and loved eet, ye hag!” Daddy Scotland sheep replied.
“I’m a sheep, I’m a sheep,” A pig covered in blood stained wool trotted about with a crazed smile, muttering “I’m a sheep” for the past three hours.
A baby sheep looked at the readers with an embarrassed experession.
“I’m sorry. My family is going through a tough time right now,” He said.
“Sonneh, get back ‘ere!” The Daddy Scotland sheep called.
“Yes, Papa-a-a-ah,” Baby sheep replied glumly with his head bowed low as he trotted to Daddy.
Meanwhile, the Swift triplets were setting the mood for the rest of the herd.
“Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago,” Taylor sheep sang.
“I was in your sights, you got me alone,” Continued the second, also named Taylor.
“You f-o-o-o-o-und me, you f-o-o-o-o-und me,” Sang Taylor sheep the third.
“You f-o-o-o-o-o—und me-e-e-e-e-e,” The triplets sang in unison.
For Onciever though, all she heard was a series of Mmme-e-e-e-e-e-e-eeees. She walked around, taking in the sights and carefully trying not to not step on a sheep and killing it.
“Who’s dis hag?” Daddy sheep muttered when Onciever accidentally bumped into him.
Fortunately for Daddy sheep, Oncie didn’t speak Me-e-ehneese.
Once she got out of the herd, she decided to keep wandering.
“I wonder how Catter and Dejers are doing right now...” Oncie muttered to herself.
“D-a-a-a-amn d-a-a-a-amn d-a-a-a-amn, what I’d do to have you he-e-e-re, he-e-ere…” The triplets sang in complete harmony as Oncie walked away.
~~~Porana, Longstar Castle~~~
A prince was sitting on a beautifully crafted wooden chair in Queen Onciever’s dining hall. He was alone, since there were no events to speak of. The lights were out and the only light that was to be found were from the windows. The prince sat in relative darkness, and was twirling a dagger with his left hand.
The dining hall was large and the slight sounds of the dagger echoed like whispers across the room. The only exits were the main door, which could fit a titan through, and the servant’s entrance, where the royal kitchens can be found. To hide the movements of servants the keep the stench of food away from the hall, a red curtain covered the entrance, which was about the size of two doors. Currently, the curtains were hiding Dejers Garth and Catticus Magen, both of which were peeking from the curtains.
“Is he legit?” Catter asked, his voice in hushed tones. Dejers nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving the prince and the glint of his dagger.
“I’m afraid he is, Cat.” Dejers said as he turned to face Dejers, who also tore his eyes of the figure beyond. Catticus Magen sighed, his feline face set in a scowl. The small whiskers on his nose gave a small irritated twitch every now and then while his cat ears hidden by his messy brown hair were standing straight and alert. Coupled by his blue mage’s robe covered with images of stars and cute cats, gave Catter the nickname of ‘Cat’ in the castle.
Dejers Garth, though, was a serious and imposing figure. Everywhere he went, he wore his iron armor. The thick plates of metal were engraved with ancient texts and litanies in the ‘l33tsp3@k’ script. His cold eyes scoured newcomers and stripped their souls bare. His red hair was like a dormant flame that mixed well with his often cold image. What the castle is thankful for is Garth’s extreme friendliness and loyalty to Onciever and her subjects.
In the darkness of the dining hall, though, the two crouching figure were the same in rank and identity. They were suspicious and maybe even afraid of the stranger who was sitting alone in their hall.
“He has the ring of the Fanged Tribes and carries the official paperwork,” Dejers listed. “He also has the Black Fang on him.” The Black Fang was a dagger and heirloom of the Fang family, starting from Black Fang, the maker of the dagger that shares his name. Rumors of the dagger instantly killing people other than a member of the Fang family has been often uttered for generations.
“He also has the nobility’s distaste for whispers and rumors,” a cold voice said from the other side of the curtain. Dejers and Catticus froze as the curtain was pulled back by a Prince Mortavan Fang.
Fang was covered in a black hooded cloak and also covered his nose and mouth, leaving his hard black eyes which were fixed on the two men who were crouched below. He wore black painted armor and leggings. To finally cover him completely were his black gloves and boots. An empty dagger sheath could also be seen from his hip. The Black Fang was in his right hand, a simple iron handle dagger with the blade made of an almost pure black metal.
Prince Fang was terrifying.
The two men abruptly took the time to regain what little honor they had left and stood up. Dejers was the same height as Fang while Cat was a few inches shorter, which irritated him somewhat. An all-powerful mage shouldn’t be shorter than anyone else.
“I-I am Dejers Garth of Her Majesty’s-” Dejers stuttered but was silenced with a raised palm from Fang.
“I know who you are, Head Guard,” he turned to face Cat, who trembles slightly at his fixed gaze, “I also know a bit about you, Catticus Magen.”
Both Dejers and Cat were frozen and unable to reply. The air around them coiled and gripped them in a vise.
“Now that I have two of Queen Onciever’s most trusted henchmen in front of me, may I ask where she is?” Only with the question did the two men found their will. No matter the intimidation, their duty to Onciever comes first before all else.
“Oncie’s- I mean, Onciever is on a personal vacation right now. Try again in a few weeks. I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing,” Cat spoke in a machine gun fashion, blurting out the lines in a heartbeat. Dejers sighed.
“What Mage Catticus just said sums it up sir: Queen Onciever is on a personal vacation and we bid you safety on your return home,”
Prince Fang let out a small chuckle. It was a chuckle that would awaken a primal fear in every man’s heart. Instinct clearly engraved a thought into the two men’s minds. The thought was ‘Uh oh’.
“The Cold North is so far away from here. I had to take quite a long voyage to go here. I believe I can take residence in one of the inns for a while. Do you find offense in my decision?” The way his voice sounded brooked no argument. Dejers shook his head vigorously.
“Very well. I’ll be off,” and with that, Prince Fang went out. Only after he had left the hall did Dejers let out a deep sigh of relief. Cat slumped to the floor sweating.
“H-he was quite terrifying,” Cat muttered between breaths.
“Indeed,” Dejers agreed.
Outside, Prince Fang was laughing loudly, slapping his thigh many times, his previously cold demeanor entirely gone. After the bout of laughter, he walked towards the inn he had spotted before going to the castle. This time, however, the prince had a happy-go-lucky feel to his movements, his hood and covering pulled down to reveal a handsome face that smiled at strangers and passers-by. Rumors of a good-looking and polite fellow quickly spread amongst the women of Ser, the town right beside Longstar Castle.
Inside, Prince Fang slightly felt bad for teasing those two men. Another side relished it. After long months of trudging through boring parties and pointless conversations, he finally had the chance to do what he wanted. Although he was saddened to see Aunt Oncie not present, he figured those two would make for great entertainment.
(( That is so creative! Avatar! Afartar! The beginning is a parody of the introduction! Love it, this got me smiling. I'm in the story too (thanks!), i find it so cool. You used our characters! Am I supposed to be Katara? Anyway, this made my day! I am acting like a crazy fan girl. I'll stop. Teehee. ))
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
8/6/2012
Posts:
247
Location:
Behind.... a screen...
Minecraft:
Synaxin
Member Details
I almost expected sc1020 to be Toph for some reason lol, I wonder what I'll be if you include me... Oh, you're going to make me the equivalent of Jet aren't you? Lol, good story, I hope it goes on, as it'll get really interesting...
EDIT: Oh, the readers are supposed to continue it? This will be even more interesting then I had imagined...
I almost expected sc1020 to be Toph for some reason lol, I wonder what I'll be if you include me... Oh, you're going to make me the equivalent of Jet aren't you? Lol, good story, I hope it goes on, as it'll get really interesting...
EDIT: Oh, the readers are supposed to continue it? This will be even more interesting then I had imagined...
I just noticed how your profile pic was once my wallpaper which I used as my player skin for a while.
So, that is probably the story that is to come in this thread. I want to write a fanfiction that shows me as an epic little frick. I will base the story on the present and my past, so expect some fanfic writers' names will be added.
So the four nations: One is Minecraft, One is the physical representation of the Literature section, one is a robot metropoplis (idk) and the last nation is made out of imaginaaaaation.
Some words so you don't get confused:
Afartar: Me.
Trippybender: Imagination
Grammabender: Grammar
Stylebenders: Style
Vocabubender: Vocabulary.
You guys are able to shape the story with your comments. From the comments so far I will incorporate it into the story.
Book One: Style
My awesome story begins in the Northern Style Tribe, a large icy landscape filled with soft snow, hard ice and of course, the Stylebender village.
The Stylebenders channeled the element of Style which, if you didn’t understand the first time, means they are very stylish. Before the Grammar Nazion attacked and screwed up the world, the Stylebenders were leading in style cause…
They were cool.
Get it? They’re in the ice so, so… I’ll leave now. Aaanyway, we don’t need to talk about Stylebender culture and penguin war tactics for the moment. We will be focusing on one Stylebender. Because of the war, she has lost everything; her house, her parents’ dog and her music downloads. What’s left of her possessions is her sword which is engraved with the word ‘Time’, which became its name.
Her name is Oncie Long, most commonly known as Once. “Once” because she just needs to slash her sword once, and you’re dead. The only thing that has given anyone a small chance to beat her is her lack of Stylebending training, something she dreams of often.
Oncie was walking on flat ice during a fairly regular day. The tribe had Oncie and all the other women hunt fish, tan leather and all the hard work. All men in the Stylebender tribes could Stylebend and thus were FABULOUS!!! That said, all the slim, beautiful Stylebenders of the village (I refer to all of them) donned their rainbow coats and sailed to the Vocabulary Kingdoms to help them in the war against the Grammar Nazion. The Stylebenders were master boatmen and could outmaneuver the steel ships of the Nazion while launching rainbow beams and fashion at them.
This is why they haven’t been defeated yet. Such is their Style.
Oncie, like all the Southern Style Tribe females, wore simple heavy blue cloaks to keep the cold out. Normally the women would use fishing spears, but Oncie had her sword Time with her, a weapon she had spent a long time mastering.
Soon she reached the edge of the flat ice and dipped her sword on the frigid waters. Through some weird magicks, several dead fish floated lifelessly into the surface. Grabbing them and stuffing them in a sack, she continued to hunt for more fish. She needed a lot of fish to get her rep points to a safe number so she wouldn’t be shunned.
You see, the Stylebenders system was based on reputation or “rep”. The more rep you gain, the more awesome you will be in the Tribe’s eyes. When you have reached an awesome enough level, the latent Style in every Tribe member will awaken and will bring you Stylebending.
“Must be fabuloouus,” Oncie muttered, lengthening out the word as all Style Tribespeople do.
She saw a possible fishing spot beside a nearby ice flat. She saw a path of broken ice towards it and hopped. As she stepped on the ice flat she smelled something.
It smelled like a fart. It wasn’t like any fart she knew. This fart held the smell of fresh oranges and fragrant flowers and yet, she knew deep in her heart that the scent was a form of fart. Looking around she saw a spiky ice formation with something inside. She walked nearer towards it and the smell grew. As she went nearer she saw the shape was humanoid, but it wore clothing she was unfamiliar with.
It was a rainbow of color in every place she looked at. One moment the entire shirt was filled with different shades of green then shifted into a dull rainbow. She stopped, looking at it for a moment to understand what she was seeing. She didn’t had the chance.
The ice cracked, slowly, at first then the crack lines covered the entire ice in seconds. A moment later the ice split into hundreds of fragments as a rainbow-colored energy blasted it away in a wave.
As soon as the wave hit Oncie, her mind felt more open somehow. It felt like she could see different worlds with different people. Then the feeling left. Once looked around and saw the wave continue in an orb around the now broken ice formation.
And what was left was the person.
Oncie ran to the kinda-fabulous person which she now saw was a male. She kneeled before his unconscious form and tried to shake him awake.
Oncie studied his face. It was magnificent. His hair…magnificent. His everything was glorious. Oncie knew if this person opened his eyes, the angels would cry in joy. And he did.
And Oncie swore she felt a drop of water land on her head.
The person’s eyes swiveled to Oncie, the power radiating from them froze her in place.
“Ww-ho are you?” She stuttered out with some difficulty. When the person spoke, she felt another drop of water land on her head.
“I am Afartar,” He said.
Somewhere, a Grammar Nazion ship sailed towards the rainbow light. A square yet humanoid shape stood, it’s square eyes calculating data from the colored lights. Known to many as the Story Creator Model 1020, the Exiled Prince of the Grammar Nazion.
“It’s the Wordbender,” S.C.1020 muttered. “We should collab sometime…”
“Ah, prince S.C., what is going on in your thought process?” A voice asked from behind. S.C turned and looked at Dejers, the French-Name-Sounding-Yet-Not-French-I-Think Uncle of S.C.
“We have found the Wordbender. After A hundredmilibillitrilliquadriquntisextiseptioctinonideciundecelitredecellion years of searching I have finally found him,”
“Are you sure that is him,” Dejers the Maybe-French asked. S.C gave him a look.
“I can feel it in my batteries, Uncle.” He turned his robotic gaze back to the lights, which were quickly fading.
“Soon I can redeem my honour as I capture the Wordbender and take my place by my father’s side! Muhahaha!” Zuko said with anticipation.
“Uh, there’s no u in ‘honor’ and you shouldn’t put the laugh in the speech,” Dejers said. If robots could give glares S.C would have gladly given his uncle one.
“Frickin’ Grammar Nazi,”
~~Arfatar~~
After Oncie found me, she knew I was awesome.
I couldn’t agree more.
She talked about the Wordbender being gone for a hundredmilibillitrilliquadriquntisextiseptioctinonideciundecelitredecellion years.
“The Wordbender’s been gone for a hundredmilibillitrilliquadriquntisextiseptioctinonideciundecelitredecellion years!”
I told her I was gone for the same amount of time.
“We should shorten the amount to,” I paused, ‘hmmming’, “Lots of Years,” I finished, a triumphant smile that showed blindingly white teeth on my blindingly white face.
Oncie gasped.
“You could do that?” She asked through squinted eyes, trying hard to keep sight of my awesomenatility even with my teeth kinda almost blinding her.
“Yes, because I am amazing.”
“You must be the Wordbender!”
“I am.”
“Can you use all four elements? Did you have to travel around the world with your friends to meet different masters of the bending arts to achieve superior skill yet left the last chakra for your love interest?”
“Yes, I have done that already.” I finished. I looked back at the spot where I was sleeping. I don’t know how I got there, only the fact that I needed to be there to be plot-relevant and to imitate a certain TV show episode.
“I need my ride,”
For a moment, I felt a wish from a past life in my head.
Granted!
A small distance away from the ice flat me and the Stylebender was on, a large pig the size of a house appeared. The pig was round, cuddly and had a pig pink nose that made me squeal inside. It had beautiful majestic pure white wings on its sides. Its two black oval eyes focused on me.
“Flying Pig!” I called in joyous greeting.
The Flying Pig was an unknown species of dinosaur that existed a ‘Lots of Years’ ago. It was my friend because it was pink and could take to any McDonalds chain I wanted.
“Mooo!” It called back to me. Without needing to look, I knew Oncie was giving me a questioning eyebrow. I turned and took it from her opened palm.
“Thanks,” I said. Flying Pig mooed again, this time with the faint rumble from her stomach. Being underwater for a ‘Lots of Years’ can make one hungry.
On the far distance, Dejers the Confirmed-Unfrench-But-Now-I-Think-Is-Spanish was looking at the on-board wireless television watching Captain Asane Targoss, Head of the Grammar Nazion Navy, or the GNN. His appearance was a square torch with a small flame floating above the part which could probably be his face.
“Hello, this is GNN and I am Asane Targoss, your captain for today. Here’s a basic rundown on the news we have right now.”
“Oncie Long; Returned to the Stylebenders?”
“S.C.1020; Friend or Foe of the Grammar Nazion?”
“Mass Murderer Caanagan on the loose in the Vocabulary Kingdoms.”
“Mad Scientist Love Triangle Spirals Out of Control!”
Dejers the Maybe-Spanish turned off the television with his grammer powers. He was inside one of the rooms, which was made entirely of metal. The entire ship was made of metal and it moved through Grammarbending. He looked at the television, and stared at it.
And stare at it he did.
S.C was on the Control Room, working up a sweat, I mean… working up an oil. He stared blankly ahead but in reality was focusing in concentration.
“The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward... The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward… The boat moved forward…”
And thus the boat moved. Feeling exhausted he passed the job to a Grammar Nazion soldier, or a G-Nazi for short.
“The boat moved forward.. The boat moved forward.. The boat moved forward..”
S.C. turned around, his anger levels rising.
“Fool!” He said to the G-Nazi, which looked at him in surprise and now with a growing fear. “You should say that with THREE dots, not two! Do you want us to miss the Afartar with the snail’s pace you’re giving us?” With that S.C stormed off like a robot because he is a robot.
“I need to smash some melons to cool down..” He muttered. The G-Nazi didn’t hear the rest, which suspiciously sounded like a lordship over large green oval fruits.
The G-Nazi lowered his head, his eyes on the floor in shame.
“Pick up those eyes from the floor. It’s gross.” And he left, leaving the G-Nazi to his devices.
“Maybe if I use a fork I could get it without dirtying my hands,” he wondered aloud.
Somewhere in the Vocabulary Kingdoms, Dr. Zeiu S. Tepali or more commonly known as “Captain Universe” shot down a hundreds G-Nazi with his ultimate universal power!
“Soon I will use my ultimate universal power power to destroy the Grammar Nazion and bring peace back to the world!” He screamed triumphantly.
But he wasn’t me, the main character of this story so he died.
Or did he?
Back at the Stylebending village, I was break-dancing. Flying Pig was munching apple-penguin giblets as I competed with the local Stylebenders. At the end, they have accepted me as their own of their own, named me their King and gave me hugs and kisses. Only Oncie Long stood apart, looking at me with suspicion.
“It took me years to get a meager scrap of rep and he just comes in and becomes the ultimate fabuloouus person here. He doesn’t even need the rep!” She muttered to herself darkly. She looked for her brother, more commonly known as the Mad Scientist. No one knows his real name, except for Oncie Long and me. I know because I am awesome.
His most recent invention was the Love Triangle, a handheld pyramid object that generated love so powerful it could destroy peanut butter. Because of some freak accident (or intentional sabotage… gasp! Subtle foreshadowing!) his invention failed and he was looking sadly into the ground. His head was buried halfway into the hard ice when Oncie walked to him.
He wore a camouflage pattern that copied the universe so aliens would see through their telescopes and not see him. How can they see him with their telescopes, you ask? Because they’re aliens, and their stuff is high-tech so much it’s…
Out of this world. I said it.
Oncie considered talking to him, but thought of it otherwise. She just sat on the ice beside her brother, who was actually repairing the Love Triangle in secret underneath the ice so the readers wouldn’t know, and stared at me, wondering what to do.
~Afartar~
Day something, year I-dunno.
A new member of the Tribe came today, said his name was Fang. Claimed stuff like an escaped prince from the Northern Style Tribe. When we asked why, his answer was pretty peculiar.
“Bro, they have this entire prophesy around me dying for fish! Dude, I eat sushi!”
But since Fang didn’t beat Flying Pig in terms of weird, he was permitted to stay. I looked at his ghostly body and penguin-face, and laughed. I am so much awesome that him. I looked at Flying Pig with his new tray of apple-penguin giblets. I figured out his real gender and edited the first chapter without any of the Style Tribe Members noticing.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I warned him. He looked at the ethereal form of Fang trying to grab a snowball, but realized he just passed through stuff.
“Moo,” Flying Pig replied.
“Still having that identity crisis thing?”
“Yes,” Flying Pig replied in the voice of Arnold Swarchenneeeggergermany. “Come with me if you want to live.”
“Nah I’m chill,” I said with a dismissive hand wave.
“I come from bacon.” Flying Pig persisted, still in the voice of Arnold Swarchegerman.
“No.” I said with finality. Flying Pig shrugged with his feathers and continued munching on apple-penguin giblets. They were supposed to be just apples in the original plan but I liked how giblets looked and sounded.
Giblets.
Somewhere non-giblet related, S.C.1020 was smaching some melons in his room.
“I am MELON LORD!” He yelled, spewing burning oil from his metallic mouth. He turned his gaze to you, the reader or more specifically, the users who felt this was gonna happen.
“You happy now?”
Dejers the Guy-That-Likes-Latin-And-Confirmed-Unfrench-But-Now-I-Think-Is-An-Indonesian scrunched his eyebrows in irritation at his nephew’s melon obsession.
“Would you keep it down?” He yelled, his voice carrying to S.C’s room.
“I am MELON LORD, old fool! Nobody questions my power? My dominion over fruit is SUPREME, Maybe-Indonesian!” He yelled back.
“I’ll show you SUPREME when I bury my fist into your MELON of a head and smash your CPU!”
“I AM A ROBOT! I CANNOT COMPREHEND ROUND! EXCEPT IN WALL-E! EVA IS COOL!”
“STOP SPEAKING IN CAPS LOCK AND HOLD SHIFT LIKE A REAL MAN! PLUS WALL-E IS COOLER THAN EVA!”
“EVA!”
“WALL-E!”
“EVA!”
“WALL-E!”
To stop this pointless banter, I teleported to the ship.
“AFARTAR! Okaythanksbye!” I yelled before teleporting back. There was silence.
“It was the Wordbender! Quick, Uncle, full speed ahead to the Style Tribe Village! We have him now!”
In another scene in this story where I didn’t kill him, Dr. Zeiu S. Tepali kicked off the disembodied head from its shoulders, sending the kneeling body to the floor in blood. Smiling triumphantly, he sat on the Grammar Lord’s throne, now having an entire Nazion and soon, the world to conquer.
“With my ultimate universal power, I will rule the world!” He said triumphantly, then he gave a satisfied laugh. Feeling great, he gave another, this time more sinister. Then he let out a slowly rising cackle of evil laughter ringing out in the entire Grammar Nazion. Back in the Style Village, I felt something wrong.
“There is a disturbance in the force…”
And Mad Scientist was running to me, his Love Triangle held in his right hand.
“I did it!” He yelled.
Startled, I stood up, wondering what was going on.
“What happened?” I asked. This wasn’t part of the story I wrote...
“I did it!” Mad Scientist repeated, and for the first time I noticed the faint pink glow coming from the Love Triangle. The Entire Village gathered around Mad Scientist, curiosity and some fear in their minds. The last time Mad Scientist held the Love Triangle, it destroyed a large piece of ice that held the Avatar and was supposed to lead as the main character and become a full-fledged parody of the TV Show.
“I destroyed bacon!” He yelled triumphantly. I gasped. Flying Pig gasped, dropping the gibletty gliblet from his mouth. The crowd gasped. Oncie Long gasped. Prince Fang gasped. S.C.1020 gasped. Dr. Zeiu S. Tepali gasped. Captain Asane Targoss gasped. Dejers the Maybe-Indonesian gasped. Mass Murderer Caanagan gasped.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
A voice raing across the entire world, thick with benevolence and joy.
“I am the ultimate being! I am called Actual Plot! I will save your fruitless lives from the self-gratifying machinations of Afartar and the ultimate universal power of Zeau Tepali!”
A yell of anger rose as a small humanoid figure flew at a comet’s speed towards the heavens.
“WHEN YOU USE MY NAME YOU KEEP THE S.!” Dr. Zeiu S. Tepali screamed in fury, his fist unleashing his ultimate universal power.
Before his fist reached the clouds, I froze the story.
My fingers got tired so tune in for the next chapter!
~Afartar~
I’m rested, full of ideas and ready to continue.
I unpaused the world, letting life go on except for Zeu S. Tepali. His body was still bathed in heat and ultimate universal power, his face a mask of hate and anger.
The whole world could see him, because the world was flat because I say so because I’m cool just because.
“What was that?” Oncie Long asked to nobody in particular. I turned to look at her with an evil smile.
“I’m gonna feed you to Flying Pig.” I said. I laughed darkly. “You dare to question my power in Page 3!” I accused. Shock enveloped her face.
“No! I am but a fictional character! OnceInaLongTime and I are different in many ways!” She begged, practically on her knees now, tears streaming down her cheeks like a waterfall. Considering her pleas, I found that I sorta kinda maybe slightly tinily unsurely suspiciously not really agree.
“Alright, I’ll teleport S.C’s ship here and leave you to fight them alone.” I said with sick joy. She smiled at me, and I was unnerved, only for a moment.
“That’s easy.”
Because I’m too lazy to describe horror of the Village or the ice cracking from their ship, S.C1020, Dejers the Confirmed-Unspanish-and-Unchinese-Darn-You-I-Was-Gonna-Use-That-Later-But-Now-I-Think-You’re-Japanese and his G-Nazis.
This is the part where you gasp in horror, reader.
“Wordbender, I have heard your voice, come near and be my prisoner!” S.C. called.
“Prince S.C., you forgot to put a period after your ‘C’ in the paragraph where you were mentioned,” Dejers the –Maybe-Japanoid said.
“Oh, shut up, Uncle. No reader will care about my period!”
Dejers snickered.
“What’s funny?” S.C. asked, careful to add the period.
“Nothing, get back to the plot, Prince.”
And he did.
“I am here, Grammar Soldier.” I called. I looked at Oncie Long with an evil grin and teleported her in front of Prince S.C.
“Will you come peacefully?” S.C. asked right before I gave Oncie a bit of body-control and had her slash Time across S.C. guts.
But S.C. was a robot and everybody knows robots are protected by their inherent coolness field. Time didn’t even got close.
“Fool! You die!”
And they fought.
Oncie charged at S.C., Time already ready for a single finishing blow. Before Oncie’s sword touched S.C. metal body, he disappeared and reappeared behind her in an eyeblink.
“I’m a PC, so you will lag when you and any other high-graphics game go near me,” S.C. whispered to Oncie in Binary, one of the Lost Languages of the Ancients of Capital Lettering. His square head was so close to Oncie she could almost feel the lag field around S.C. “What’s more,” Oncie’s opponent continued in Binary, “I can do this-!” With a small grunt from S.C., Oncie Long felt a thin long spike protruding from her stomach.
“Lag spike, Wordbender. Nothing permanent, but it will paralyze you in all-enclosing rage-provoking lag,” He said, this time in normal language. Oncie couldn’t reply, her face a frozen mask of wide-eyed pain. A single tear shed down her left eye as two G-Nazis grabbed her by both hands and dragged her to the ship. S.C. looked triumphant and without another word, went back to the ship with his prize.
Soon he will become a true prince again. [Insert evil laugh here].
I watched.
“I know you now, S.C. You will fear me.” I said as the ship went away. Back to the Grammar Nazion.
“Soon. Very soon.”
I pondered this situation. Now that my rage on Page 3’s blasphemy has been exhausted, I wondered where the plot will go from here. Should I continue the TV Show’s plot? No, Oncie’s been captured. Should I rearrange reality and have me king with a lot of awesome adventures? I nod to myself.
I now know what to do.
Not after saving Oncie Long first. I want to do this not out of compassion or concern. I wanted to add one last scene that I never planned how to incorporate into the story without breaking some plot stuff.
I went back to the Style Village, where life continued as normal. The stink of fear was still in the air. The elders looked at me with suspicion now and the children were silent as they played. Mad Scientist was sitting cross-legged in front of a tent made of colorful, fabuloouus leather.
“My sister’s gone,” Mad whispered as I got close enough to hear. He wasn’t looking at me, his eyes boring straight into the Love Triangle on his palm, still glowing its faint aura.
“I could help you,” I say to him. Mad Scientist looked up at me, confused. “I could help you save her.” As soon as I said it his face exploded with relief and hope.
What a joyous feeling, I thought. I’m too awesome, though, so I don’t need hope.
“How?” He asked.
I looked at Flying Pig, nodding in her direction. She gazed at me with understanding, nodding thoughtfully with a frown on her face.
There was a reason why the Love Triangle is so powerful. In a world of vegetarians, meat gained in magical power. When the entire world turned vegetarian, meat became so charged with magical energy that it could alter reality with a whim.
And nothing’s stronger than bacon.
Seeing the paragraph I wanted written done, I sighed satisfactorily. I willed Flying Pig to change reality.
And the world of the four nations was gone.
Book Two: The Land of Porana
The world was ending.
In the planet of Porana, there was a prophecy that foretold the world’s destruction. The prophecy was found only a month after the globe-spanning Kingdom of 16 Monarchs’ Golden Age was announced. Amidst cities of joy and frolicking, the news swept the smiles from people’s faces like a tide and held it in a pot of boiling water, poking it with a spear and demanding it beg for mercy like how its mother begged last night.
Indeed, those words have easily expressed the grim fear every citizen on Porana had felt. Previously, the various continents and their lands were ruled by 16 monarchs who were all friendly with one another. Only days after the prophecy was discovered, paranoia and suspicion were cradled in the monarchs’ heads until each closed off its ties with other continents, leaving the world in isolated fear.
Among the 16, there are a few who wish to change the situation. Seeking to prevent the prophecy, Onciever Longstar of the South-East Continent left the governance of her territory to the people and disappeared on a quest. She was to find an ancient being more powerful than a thousand suns and twice as hot. Known by his stage name, “Fartehculus”, Oncie Long the “Warrior Queen” disappeared.
And on a rainy night, she faced a portal. At least, she thought it was. The structure was merely a blocky outline of a rectangle, the stone a dark purple color. What intrigued Oncie wasn’t the stone but rather, the bright purple screen inside the rectangle. It was swirling and shimmering and wasn’t anything Onciever has seen in her lifetime. She could even see her reflection, although it was tinted purple and hazy. What was clear to see though was her “unqueenliness”.
She was wearing a leather cloak to keep off the rain. Her black hair was unkempt and tangled in many places. Her pale white face, often clean and perfect, was smeared with dirt and grime. Hidden form sight was the great sword Time, one of the legendary swords of Porana and Oncie’s symbol of power. With this sword, the Warrior Queen stopped monster armies and the undead with only a few swings of her sword. Her fearlessness was said to be the result of a ghost scaring Onciever when she was young, paling her face and draining the life out of her. Without a sense of life in her, she ran to the ghost and destroyed it with her bare hands. Other rumors like that grew around her and often many of those rumors were true.
Onciever rummaged something from her pockets and held a small bright blue stone. She squeezed it slightly, making it give off a faint glow. Slowly the realm of mind and space joined between Onciever and another.
“Catter, are you awake?” Oncie asked telepathically. A faint mental nudge informed her that her contact was indeed, awake.
“I wish I wasn’t,” Catter replied, his thought patterns clearly showing her irritation at being woken up at 3 in the morning. “Where have you been? You have 15 monarchs vying to take your lands right under you. Your place is here in the palace.”
Oncie automatically waved her hand dismissively as a response. “That doesn’t matter much right now. Catter, I’ve found the weird magic thing you’ve been talking to me about.”
Even through mindspeak, Onciever heard Catticus sigh. She’d bet that her court wizard and best friend was rolling his eyes in his tower right now.
“You mean the portal, right?” Catticus Magen asked. Oncie nodded. Catter once again made a mental sigh. “You just yawned right now, didn’t you?” He didn’t need an answer. “Alright, go on then. I guess me and the Council can hold off the monarchs for now…”
“Alright, thank you, Catter,” Oncie said as she prepared to cut the link.
“Hey Oncie.”Catter suddenly said. Oncie was surprised for a moment before answering.
“What?”
“Be safe out there. Fartehculus might just be a myth. You could be walking into a trap.” All signs of sarcasm disappeared from his mental patterns and Oncie felt a little bit touched.
“Yeah? Well so could the prophecy but we’re all taking it seriously, right? Same principle here. Bye now, Catter. Be safe there. Keep the Head Guard with you as a bodyguard, alright?”
“Your ‘Head Guard’ has a name and it’s Dejers.”
“I still refuse to acknowledge him.”
Catter sighed. “Whatever. Bye.” And with that his presence in her mind disappeared. Oncie took a heavy breath, looking at the portal with a small sense of anxiety and fear.
“Too late to run away now,” Oncie muttered under her breath a moment before sprinting directly at the portal.
And then Onciever Longstar was gone from Porana.
~~~???~~~
In the moment where Onciever made contact with the portal, an immense feeling known to many very smart scientists as “weirdynessificationatory” crept through Oncie’s body like living gummy worms and jelly beans. It was a sweet, sickly and probably diabetic feeling that made her body feel like a sugar coated warrior queen.
Yet it only lasted a moment but stretched for infinity. With a blink, Oncie tried to differentiate the world she was seeing, the world she was in before and the strange eternal feeling in between. Onciever looked around and nodded to herself. This wasn’t Porana.
It wasn’t raining anymore. A sun almost twice as large as Porana’s own shone from above, with clouds floating in one uniform direction with almost equal widths like a moving jigsaw puzzle in the sky. The air was pleasant, unlike the harsh wetness of her kingdom. The portal on Porana was surrounded by trees, but now Onciever was in a small flatland with a few tall rocks jutting out from the ground here and there. Also, Onciever was standing in the middle of a sheep herd.
“Mmme-e-e-e-e-e-e-eeee!” A sheep went.
“Mmme-e-e-e-e-e-e-eeee!” Another called back.
“What did you mean by tha-a-a-at?” Momma sheep replied, shock evident in her voice.
“I shanked her and loved eet, ye hag!” Daddy Scotland sheep replied.
“I’m a sheep, I’m a sheep,” A pig covered in blood stained wool trotted about with a crazed smile, muttering “I’m a sheep” for the past three hours.
A baby sheep looked at the readers with an embarrassed experession.
“I’m sorry. My family is going through a tough time right now,” He said.
“Sonneh, get back ‘ere!” The Daddy Scotland sheep called.
“Yes, Papa-a-a-ah,” Baby sheep replied glumly with his head bowed low as he trotted to Daddy.
Meanwhile, the Swift triplets were setting the mood for the rest of the herd.
“Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago,” Taylor sheep sang.
“I was in your sights, you got me alone,” Continued the second, also named Taylor.
“You f-o-o-o-o-und me, you f-o-o-o-o-und me,” Sang Taylor sheep the third.
“You f-o-o-o-o-o—und me-e-e-e-e-e,” The triplets sang in unison.
For Onciever though, all she heard was a series of Mmme-e-e-e-e-e-e-eeees. She walked around, taking in the sights and carefully trying not to not step on a sheep and killing it.
“Who’s dis hag?” Daddy sheep muttered when Onciever accidentally bumped into him.
Fortunately for Daddy sheep, Oncie didn’t speak Me-e-ehneese.
Once she got out of the herd, she decided to keep wandering.
“I wonder how Catter and Dejers are doing right now...” Oncie muttered to herself.
“D-a-a-a-amn d-a-a-a-amn d-a-a-a-amn, what I’d do to have you he-e-e-re, he-e-ere…” The triplets sang in complete harmony as Oncie walked away.
~~~Porana, Longstar Castle~~~
A prince was sitting on a beautifully crafted wooden chair in Queen Onciever’s dining hall. He was alone, since there were no events to speak of. The lights were out and the only light that was to be found were from the windows. The prince sat in relative darkness, and was twirling a dagger with his left hand.
The dining hall was large and the slight sounds of the dagger echoed like whispers across the room. The only exits were the main door, which could fit a titan through, and the servant’s entrance, where the royal kitchens can be found. To hide the movements of servants the keep the stench of food away from the hall, a red curtain covered the entrance, which was about the size of two doors. Currently, the curtains were hiding Dejers Garth and Catticus Magen, both of which were peeking from the curtains.
“Is he legit?” Catter asked, his voice in hushed tones. Dejers nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving the prince and the glint of his dagger.
“I’m afraid he is, Cat.” Dejers said as he turned to face Dejers, who also tore his eyes of the figure beyond. Catticus Magen sighed, his feline face set in a scowl. The small whiskers on his nose gave a small irritated twitch every now and then while his cat ears hidden by his messy brown hair were standing straight and alert. Coupled by his blue mage’s robe covered with images of stars and cute cats, gave Catter the nickname of ‘Cat’ in the castle.
Dejers Garth, though, was a serious and imposing figure. Everywhere he went, he wore his iron armor. The thick plates of metal were engraved with ancient texts and litanies in the ‘l33tsp3@k’ script. His cold eyes scoured newcomers and stripped their souls bare. His red hair was like a dormant flame that mixed well with his often cold image. What the castle is thankful for is Garth’s extreme friendliness and loyalty to Onciever and her subjects.
In the darkness of the dining hall, though, the two crouching figure were the same in rank and identity. They were suspicious and maybe even afraid of the stranger who was sitting alone in their hall.
“He has the ring of the Fanged Tribes and carries the official paperwork,” Dejers listed. “He also has the Black Fang on him.” The Black Fang was a dagger and heirloom of the Fang family, starting from Black Fang, the maker of the dagger that shares his name. Rumors of the dagger instantly killing people other than a member of the Fang family has been often uttered for generations.
“He also has the nobility’s distaste for whispers and rumors,” a cold voice said from the other side of the curtain. Dejers and Catticus froze as the curtain was pulled back by a Prince Mortavan Fang.
Fang was covered in a black hooded cloak and also covered his nose and mouth, leaving his hard black eyes which were fixed on the two men who were crouched below. He wore black painted armor and leggings. To finally cover him completely were his black gloves and boots. An empty dagger sheath could also be seen from his hip. The Black Fang was in his right hand, a simple iron handle dagger with the blade made of an almost pure black metal.
Prince Fang was terrifying.
The two men abruptly took the time to regain what little honor they had left and stood up. Dejers was the same height as Fang while Cat was a few inches shorter, which irritated him somewhat. An all-powerful mage shouldn’t be shorter than anyone else.
“I-I am Dejers Garth of Her Majesty’s-” Dejers stuttered but was silenced with a raised palm from Fang.
“I know who you are, Head Guard,” he turned to face Cat, who trembles slightly at his fixed gaze, “I also know a bit about you, Catticus Magen.”
Both Dejers and Cat were frozen and unable to reply. The air around them coiled and gripped them in a vise.
“Now that I have two of Queen Onciever’s most trusted henchmen in front of me, may I ask where she is?” Only with the question did the two men found their will. No matter the intimidation, their duty to Onciever comes first before all else.
“Oncie’s- I mean, Onciever is on a personal vacation right now. Try again in a few weeks. I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing,” Cat spoke in a machine gun fashion, blurting out the lines in a heartbeat. Dejers sighed.
“What Mage Catticus just said sums it up sir: Queen Onciever is on a personal vacation and we bid you safety on your return home,”
Prince Fang let out a small chuckle. It was a chuckle that would awaken a primal fear in every man’s heart. Instinct clearly engraved a thought into the two men’s minds. The thought was ‘Uh oh’.
“The Cold North is so far away from here. I had to take quite a long voyage to go here. I believe I can take residence in one of the inns for a while. Do you find offense in my decision?” The way his voice sounded brooked no argument. Dejers shook his head vigorously.
“Very well. I’ll be off,” and with that, Prince Fang went out. Only after he had left the hall did Dejers let out a deep sigh of relief. Cat slumped to the floor sweating.
“H-he was quite terrifying,” Cat muttered between breaths.
“Indeed,” Dejers agreed.
Outside, Prince Fang was laughing loudly, slapping his thigh many times, his previously cold demeanor entirely gone. After the bout of laughter, he walked towards the inn he had spotted before going to the castle. This time, however, the prince had a happy-go-lucky feel to his movements, his hood and covering pulled down to reveal a handsome face that smiled at strangers and passers-by. Rumors of a good-looking and polite fellow quickly spread amongst the women of Ser, the town right beside Longstar Castle.
Inside, Prince Fang slightly felt bad for teasing those two men. Another side relished it. After long months of trudging through boring parties and pointless conversations, he finally had the chance to do what he wanted. Although he was saddened to see Aunt Oncie not present, he figured those two would make for great entertainment.
Now continue the story, me!
Indeed!
TT2000, you are genius.
EDIT: Oh, the readers are supposed to continue it? This will be even more interesting then I had imagined...
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By the way you are murdering me.
I can't type straight because i am laughing.
What have you done this time, Farteh?
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I just noticed how your profile pic was once my wallpaper which I used as my player skin for a while.
I will make use of this somehow.
Stay in character and sulk around 'cause I'm more awesome than you.
No need for caps. Say fabuloouus as if it is the natural way to say it, which it is, in your case.
You can do it!
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