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The Official Fanfiction Thread


Klia

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Here is Paranoidish's fanfic. Why? Because I put up her stories. This is the immigrant thing, dig? The weird Russian Timeofieere dude is Thompson as a Russian dude.

 

Storybook

 

 

Page 1

Timofei picked up his morning newspaper, expecting the worst. Of course, his fears were realized. The headline of the paper red “Mass Starvation. Everywhere!” With an accompanying article talking about how many more people were falling into poverty. And for Timofei, starvation and poverty weren’t too far off. He was running out of food and money. It just seemed that no one wanted to hire Jews in Russia anymore.

 

He flipped to the next page and noticed an add for America. The ad said that it was letting all people from other countries come over and live there. “I think I’m on to something here…” Timofei said aloud. He decided to look more into the matter.

 

Page 2

America. Timofei remembered people talking about it. His friends said that there, everyone was free and had rights like voting. He also remembered hearing about equal opportunity. Maybe if he went to America, he could get a job and never have to starve again! And once things over here at Russia improved, he would come back and tell his friends and family of all the adventures he had. ‘Cool’, he thought and went to get his bags.

 

 

 

Page 3

He wasn’t really sure what to bring. What would he have to bring to the land of opportunity? He didn’t really have much left, so he decided to pack everything he had. Which was mainly a loaf of bread, a few matches, and his dreams of what he could do in America. He always wanted to work in NASA. It was one of the greatest places for an astronaut like him to work. He sighed and picked up the packed bags. “Ooh wait, almost forgot.” He ran off, desperately searching. Timofei quickly found what he was looking for; his helmet. “All ready.” He shouted aloud to no one in particular, except maybe himself.

 

Page 4

 

When he got to the docks, he found a strange sight. The boat mentioned in the phamplet he got was much smaller than he thought. It also was much dirtier and full of holes. Timofei walked up to the man in charge of the vessel. “This isn’t what I read in the phamplet.” He complained.

The old man scrutunized him with one eye, “Eh, I suppose you’re right. She’s not the vessel she use to be. But she still is the SS Mistreated Jewish Russians Fleeing to America for a New Life.”

“Well, can’t I have my money back?” Timofei retorted.

“You didn’t pay any money.” The man quipped back.

“Oh. Well, then. Can I have a drink with one of those bendy straws and matching umbrella?” he asked hopefully.

Timofei knew the answer before the man said it with a reinforcing “no”. Perhaps this ‘no’ signaled his coming to America. Here, he couldn’t get the bendy straws and matching umbrellas, but over there in America, the land where impossible means nothing, he could. And perhaps when he settled he would get many more straws. Maybe even a cherry fi the rumors were true.

 

Page 5

The boat ride to America on SS Mistreated Jewish Russians Fleeing to America for a New Life was much rougher than Timofei ever thought. There were so many people crammed onto the lower deck of the boat that he could barely move. People were getting sick and the incessant hammering on the side of the boat from the frothy waves outside was too much to bear. And worse of all, he never got his drink. Instead they all had to eat gruel, which was what he had to eat in Russia. What if he had to eat gruel in America too? Timofei panicked for a few heart-stopping seconds. Then, the journey would all be for nothing. If America was just like Russia, he would still be poor and hungry.

 

But he remembered his training when he was learning to become an astronaut. When stuck in bad situation, like having your cell phone break on a shuttle flight and the nearest convenience store is 300,000 miles away, they were taught how to relax. Timofei put on some headphones and leaned back. After a while he fell into a pensive view, his eyes becoming drowsy even as his mind raced of today’s events. Soon he slumped over, in a deep sleep.

 

Page 6

When he woke up, Timofei realized the boat had stopped. He picked up his bags and went to the upper deck. It was dark out, they must have been sailing for a long time. When he got up there he was met with the sight of the Statue of Liberty. She was holding the emblazoned copper torch up to the moon. “Sure is a pretty view.” He gasped in wonderment. He was finally in America, the stuff of dreams.

 

Page 7

He got off the deck and landed on Ellis Island. He decided to go into a bright building where everyone else was going into. Once through the doorway, the hall opened up into a great chamber where the immigrants where being processed. Timofei walked up to a funny looking man in a top hat. “Name?” the man asked without looking up.

“Timofei.”

“Welcome to America, Thompson.” The strange man handed him signed papers.

“My name’s Timofei.” He remarked.

“That’s what I said, Thompson.” The man grumbled.

Thompson mutterd under his breath. But it was probably better to have changed his names. His old name wasn’t at all American sounding. And besides, it was sort of a celebration for his new home.

 

 

Page 8

When Thompson landed off the dock, he began to mill around, not really knowing where to go. He was in a sort of daze, so many things to do so little time. Actually, he had the rest of his life but he wanted to go around and sample a little bit of everything. Then, all of the sudden, an English knight walked up to him. “Hello?” Thomspon called out, half questioningly.

“Hey, you are so totally not supposed to be here.” The knight informed him, his brow furrowed.

“Why not? I’ve got papers. See, look.” Thompson showed him the papers he got from the funny man in the hat.

“Yeah, but you’re being all Jewish-Russian. And I don’t like that.” The knight added.

“Dude, That’s not cool.” Thomspon maintained and walked away after a short staring contest he and the knight held. It wasn’t the fun types of staring contests, not like the ones in Russia, “Man, that guy was a jerk.”

 

Page 9

The more Thomspon thought about the Knight, the more he became angry with himself. He went for a walk and thought of his unkind welcoming into America, “It’s not my fault that I’m this way. I just am.” Then he stopped dead in his tracks, an idea had struck him. He took off his helmet, it was too Russian for its own good and threw it on the ground. Now, with his new name and the loss of his helmet, no one would be able to tell he was a Russian immigrant.

 

Page 10

The next day Thompson went to look for a job. He found a sign with the words ‘NASA now hiring.’ “Yes. This is my big day!” Thomspon exclaimed. But then he looked farther down and in the fine print it read ‘hiring all except for immigrants. Especially the Russian kind.’

“Darn it.” He sighed.

But then he noticed a shop with a sign on the window. It read ‘Now Hiring.” Thompson decided he had to get a job soon, he was all out of food and money. So he walked inside and asked the manager if he could be hired. To his surprise he was. And to his even greater surprise he was working in a meat market.

Meat hung from hooks on the walls and ceilings. It looked like a very dirty and boring place. But he decided to give it a go. He had to make a living. So he toiled the rest of the day, earning a few dollars for his services. He came back the next day and did the same, each time only earning a few dollars and working well over twelve hours.

 

One day while working there, he noticed a small two-headed baby. “Hello.” Thomspon greeted him.

The two-headed baby only gurgled.

“Yeah. My name’s Thompson. What’s yours?”

The baby sat there.

“Ooh. That’s interesting. And you say you’re an immigrant too?…An Irish one? That’s interesting. I came from Russia. But when I got here this mean knight dude made fun of me and I couldn’t get a job at NASA so now I’m crashing at this place.” Thomspon babbled.

The baby found an interesting bug on the ground and decided to stare at it for the next two hours.

“So yeah, funny world isn’t it? Anyway, our shift is over so I’m going to go back and crawl in the box I live in.” Thomspon continued.

Now the bug was walking in a circle, which guaranteed another good hour of sightseeing from the baby.

“What’s that? I can come crash at your place? Cool. Alright let me just get my stuff and I’ll be right over.” Thomspon left the market and headed home, ready to see where his new friend was bringing him.

 

Page 11

When Thomspon met up with the two-headed baby, he found himself lost in New York, tall buildings encompassing them. “So this is where you live? I must say, it’s a nice sidewalk if a little dirty.”

 

But the two-headed baby ignored that comment and instead walked into one of the buildings. It smelled of the stink of people, and was crowded, but Thompson noted it was much better than his box. The baby led him up a flight of stairs until he came to a door with the letter 126 on it. They entered, the room was filled with homey items. A little crowded, damp, and full of useless baby toys. But Thompson was glad to be here, and even more glad when two-headed baby told him that he could stay here if he wanted to. Of course he accepted, it would be impolite if he didn’t.

 

Thompson was surprised when a man, dressed exactly as him, walked into the room.

“Oh, Hi, 2HB. I see you’ve brought a newcomer today.” The man said.

“The name’s Thomspon.” Thompson said a little snidly.

“Hello Thomspon. The name’s Captain.” Captain replied, “and I notice your also an astronaut. I believe you dropped this.” The Captain produced a helmet and handed it over to Thompson.

“Wow. Thanks.” He said cheerfully. He was now reunited with his helmet.

“NP. I’m cool like that.”

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NP. I'm cool like that.

 

That is the best children's story ever. You hear me? And 2HB being Irish makes life worth living. Captain sounds a lot like... I don't know. But he totally wasn't ripping on anybody. Which is good for me.

 

Knight was a jerk AWESOME AS ALWAYS.. Yes he was.

 

I'd buy a copy of this with all the arty pages anyday.

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NP. I'm cool like that.

 

That is the best children's story ever. You hear me? And 2HB being Irish makes life worth living. Captain sounds a lot like... I don't know. But he totally wasn't ripping on anybody. Which is good for me.

 

Knight was a jerk. Yes he was.

 

I'd buy a copy of this with all the arty pages anyday.

 

Knight was not a jerk.

 

Oh and I edited the story for her.

 

The more Thomspon thought about the Knight, the more he became angry with himself. He went for a walk. “It’s not my fault that I’m this way. I just am.”

 

Once I pointed that out she edited out the knight apologizing and everything else with the knight being nice.

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NP. I'm cool like that.

 

That is the best children's story ever. You hear me? And 2HB being Irish makes life worth living. Captain sounds a lot like... I don't know. But he totally wasn't ripping on anybody. Which is good for me.

 

Knight was a jerk. Yes he was.

 

I'd buy a copy of this with all the arty pages anyday.

 

Oh yeah..I still have to do my drawings. Damnit.

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Ah, good! Knight is awesome once more! I shall have to edit my post.

 

One more thing. She did a good job with the dialogue. She got the whole awkward sentence structures and blatantly obvious comments down excellently.

 

Well she's always been awesome at keeping people in Character. Something i need to ask her how to do. So hard for me.

 

This should be sent to Scott C. Totally.

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Razputin climbed up the wall, scaling the tower to the frost-covered top. The winter was cold, and Razputin scaled a dark stony tower up to the top. Around him were mountains, all icecapped, and frozen. A dying snowflake came to rest on his hand, as he further crawled to the top. He took hold of a frozen vine with one hand, and looked down below him. At the top? The head of the Psychonauts. At the bottom? A cold clammy death.

 

He finally climbed the rogue vine to the top. He removed the spiked tip, threw it to the ground, and jumped into the boy-sized opening. As he looked around the dark room, he took his goggles off. He gave dazed glances around the room, when suddenly a giant monitor turned on. "I think you know this isn't where you belong," said a dark, grating voice, that seemed young and misguided deep down inside. He saw the door out of the dark room, and opened it.

 

He came to a long stairwell, and jumped onto the banister, skating down it. Time was a factor. He skidded to the bottom, of the three story stairwell. He came to another door. Zanotto was being held on Floor 97, six more down. He reached an elevator, and hit the call button. It never came. Razputin shoved the doors open, only to find a blazing fire and wreckage of elevator at the bottom. He grabbed onto the still hot cable, and lowered his goggles again to keep the smoke out of his mouth, covering his mouth with his other hand.

 

"Razputin!" came a voice from below. "Don't go any further! That monster, he..." A low, emotionless voice choked to life, only to quiet itself again.

 

"Razputin, darling, you really don't wanna go down there!" Milla shouted, but Razputin slid past their floor, jumping off the rope away from the fire and into the frying pan. Before him stood two aquatic tanks, hands waiting to reach out and grab him, and a gigantic robotic monster. Razputin jumped up to avoid a swipe of its giant foot, and watched in horror as the gigantic water tank to its left spewed water towards him. Razputin jumped up, grabbing an electric cable, producing a Psychonaut Swiss Army Knife from his pocket, and quickly slicing the wire. It hurled sparks all over, and Razputin swung on the larger portion of it into the water. He screamed as the electrified, ever-more-powerful Hand of Galochio grabbed at his leg. He made his way to a gas pipe among the small corridor, switching quickly to a steam pipe as the Hand tore it open, and fire began.

 

Razputin jumped down to Floor 101 through a loose floor panel. Fire didn't spread downward - he just hoped Sasha and Milla would get out of Floor 103 in time. He made a quick descent to Floor 96 through a strange tunnel downward.

 

As he landed, he smelled something odd, and heard clicking. He felt a strange sick sensation. Another monitor came to life. "Hahaha! Razputin, you fool! Don't you know never to take a shortcut?" He smelled a gas, and saw the floor around him crumble. Acid began rising, and the floor he stood on fell. He looked around, and found a free-floating crate. It'd serve for a few more seconds, and he used it to get high ground. Time seemed to slow down as his reactions became incredibly fast. He looked around, to find a rope draped down from above. "Razputin!" Came a high-pitched young boy's voice, as a small blue face shyly peeked through a hole around the rope.

 

Raz climbed the rope, and noted that the boy had disappeared. He made a quick jump onto a hanging pair of pipes, and swung on it like a beam. Doing a flip, and launching himself across the room, he grabbed the door hinge. The small blue boy opened the door, and scattered before Razputin could even blink. Raz raised himself up, but the acid still followed him. He saw a hole, newly broken open, and mounted his Levitation ball. He jumped once, and bounced off the disappearing ball, putting one hand to his head, and putting two fingers out in front of him. Before him were two children, and the tied up body of Truman Zanotto, Lili Zanotto, and Ford Cruller.

 

The boys were not expecting him, one of them tackled the small blue one to the ground, and turned to his new guest. "Oh, Razputin!" he said, smiling. He was painted pure black on one side, and pure white on another, wearing a headband, and tall boots. "You must want to get this over with quickly, then, my friend!" The small blue boy staggered to his feet, behind the evil one. Razputin found without a single second to react, he was being thrown to the ground. He passed a lever while he fell that said "ACID".

 

He was thrown so fast into it, that it came down and cracked off the handle. He shouted in pain, and in warning, as he saw the blue boy in the strange cap and outlandish outfit grab the other by the shoulders, slam him into a control panel, and bend his spine by slamming him on a window. The blue boy's hands lit on fire. The coat of the painted child caught fire, and the blue child screamed.

 

"Gyaaaargh! Vexen, begone!"

 

The blue boy looked at Razputin, after sliding the other out the window, and laughed, "Hi. My name is D'Artagnan. And if I'm not mistaken, I think you, and these three need to get out of the building. There's an extreme psychic interference wall just outside the tower, and several warp barriers on each floor. Trying to teleport out of here would cut you up like an apple in a blender."

 

Razputin looked at the 96 floors to go in amazement, being joined by Lili, Ford, and Truman. D'Artagnan went ahead, and jumped down into the room that was no longer filled with acid.

 

"Come on. What're we waiting for?"

 

THE BEGINNING OF A BEAUTIFUL FIC? PERHAPS.

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NP. I'm cool like that.

 

That is the best children's story ever. You hear me? And 2HB being Irish makes life worth living. Captain sounds a lot like... I don't know. But he totally wasn't ripping on anybody. Which is good for me.

 

Knight was a jerk AWESOME AS ALWAYS.. Yes he was.

 

I'd buy a copy of this with all the arty pages anyday.

 

Glad you like it! I had to write it all in ONE night because I totally forgot it was due the next morning. So yeah, fun night there.

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Woah, I'm totally in awe of your skillful concentration... skills. I could never do something like that.

 

Concentration? Hah! That's a laugh. Out of 4 hours I used only one of them productivly.

 

We could wait until you edit it, but I'm still sending my blood.

 

Yay! Blood! Now what am I going to do with that?

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