This story is rated PG for parental guidance. There are some naughty words, and there may be a little sexual innuendo later on. I'm not quite sure what's going to happen, but it shouldn't get into PG-13 or R range. These ratings are always subject to change anyway....
FICTIME
Luna Azul stood on the bridge of the Freedom One and surveyed the endless pit of blackness. Millions of stars, surrounded by millions of unseen planets, dotted the spacescape. Captain Azul was bold, fearless, and always questing to destroy Emperor Mazool’s scum wherever she found them; it was a gallant but lonely existance. But at times like these, when she stood contemplating the universe, she felt a kinship to it. She thought of all the children boldly fighting for life, all the people dying for their firm belief in their freedom to set themselves on fire, the Trikinib people of Slibus 4 who had whole colonies of people living on the ends of their tongues, the fearless tiny Zez, who would often throw themselves off cliffs for no apparent reason-
She wondered if she oughtn’t to just blow the whole damn thing up.
Her reverie was interrupted by a roar of rage. Pulling her blaster, she ran past the ship’s controls, scrambled down the hatchway ladder, and stormed into the galley just in time to catch Rave as he hurtled in her direction.
"Thanks, Cap’n," he growled as he leapt off her bruised body.
"Don’t mention it."
Grotto was glaring mutely from his side of the table. "Awright, chap," said Rave, "You wanna go? Come on, gimme your best shot, bubba. Bring it ON!" Luna neatly stepped aside as he went hurtling past again.
"Hey, I’m READING here," snapped Trip, waving the book in her hand.
"Yeah, well who asked you?" Zebulon demanded, flexing his wings and chucking his fistfull of cards at Grotto. "Don’t give me that look, Grotto! I’M not the one who cheated."
"Dammit!" snarled Trip.
"YOU quiet, Trip," said Exeen evenly. "You make more noise than them."
"Shaddup, monkey."
"Shut self up, Earthscum."
"EVERYBODY CAN IT!" roared Luna at the top of her voice. "Can’t believe you guys’re fighting like toddlers."
"I certainly can’t help it if we’ve had no action in weeks," Rave said adroitly, rubbing his bruised ribs. "I don’t write these stories."
"Well who does?"
"Me."
They turned and watched LindenTree step through her Interfanfictional Portal (tm) and into the room. "Look, I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen any action, but that’s gonna change. I’m tired of hearing you all whine about being bored."
"You’ve been sulking," grumped Zebulon, "Ever since you failed to win the Sadistic and Destructive Writer’s Award on Nat’s- Mmmph!"
"SHUT UP!" five other voices screamed.
"I am NOT sulking!" exclaimed Linden. "I’m just-musing."
"Just couldn’t keep mouth shut!" Exeen said in disgust, flicking her tail at Zebulon. They couldn’t tell if he was blushing or not.
"You DO realize you’re copying her story anyway..." Luna holstered her pistol. "Lin, if you think rewriting the 'Gathering' story is gonna win you Brownie points-"
"And if you think accusing me of jealousy, plagerism, AND butt-kissing is going to stop me, think again, cuz it won’t. Besides, I don’t have a typewriter. And we aren’t having an Olympics, either." Lindentree fumbled in her pocket. "Now where’s my pen?" Laying hold of a Sharpie marker, she shrugged. "This’ll have to do." Two sweeps of the Sharpie and a different Interfanfictional Portal gleamed black in their midst. "Now. You’ve got two minutes to do something about that before whatever’s on the other side does something about you. Elsetime, compadres."
The members of Nova Posse cowered under the table. Trip moaned in fear. Luna glared at Linden. "What have you done now, you monster?"
"How should I know, I’m making this up as I go along." As Linden disappeared through the first portal, she called out, "Have fun!"
"She ruined my dramatic rhetorical question," sulked Luna.
"What are we going to do?" cried Zebulon.
"Thanks lots Captain," Exeen said.
"What the heck did you want ME to do about it? Why didn't you stop her yourself, fuzzball?" Their argument was interupted by the sudden, violent flickering of the Portal.
"Something’s coming through! Blasters out!" Luna said.
And then something appeared before them, so horrible, so unimaginably vile and evil that even Luna began to scream in terror.
REALTIME
"I have SUCH a headache," Linden moaned, banging away at her keyboard.
"Me too."
"Who SAID that?" demanded Linden, trying to unlock the keyboard.
"Me." This time the response was typed, not spoken. "I’m the Ghost in the Machine."
"A computer gremlin!" Linden got ready to bash her computer screen in.
"No, you idiot, can’t you read? I’m a helpful entity. I’m probably just a figment of your imagination. Even Socrates had a helpful entity..."
"Are you making fun of me?"
"Ummm...."
"What do you want?" demanded Linden, still holding her chair at the ready to smash the computer screen.
"I’m a representative of Elsetime."
"You mean there IS an Elsetime?"
"Of course there is. And the inhabitants, that is, us, well-we’re all pretty pissed about what you and your little writer friends have been up to."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, your friggin’ Interfanfictional Portals keep sucking us into Fictime! And it’s just too darn serious out there. People dying and getting ripped apart and taking drugs and all sorts of stuff. And then, not only do you drag us out of our homes and torture us, then you decide it’s time for a convenient plot twist and KILL us! After that, it’s all over."
"You mean that when we kill you in Fictime, you’re stuck there?"
"That’s EXACTLY what I mean!" the Ghost suddenly roared out loud.
"Ouch."
"You want a perfect example, take that friend of yours, whatsername....First she alters the Fictime Donatello. We don’t mind a little alteration here and there, but you do THAT much and your liable to suck an Elsetimer into Fictime and trap him there, which is exactly what happened. And then, if that isn’t bad enough, she nabs another guy, pal ‘o’ mine actually, and sticks him in the story. And then she KILLS him! Just like that, no reason at all to it!"
"That’s a good story."
"A good STORY! I bet YOUR death would make a GREAT story!" roared the Ghost.
"Um, point taken. So what should I do about it?"
"Stop writing."
"WHAT?! I can’t do that! I have responsibility to my public! I have career aspirations! Plus, I really like it!"
"Well let me tell you a story, kid. You may have power over us when you bring us into Fictime. But if we decide to come over by ourselves, who’s going to stop us?"
"You’re talking about invasion!" gasped Linden.
"Dang straight! Give up now, or face the consequences."
"Never!" cried Linden. "Us fanfic writers will never yield. And what’s more, neither will the characters. You’ll see!"
"To arms, Elseworld!" roared the Ghost. "To Arms!" typed Linden, in the header of her e-mail to the Fanfic List. The battle had begun.....
FICTIME
"Boo!" shouted Michaelangelo as he pounced on Raph. Raph screamed and threw out his arm, slapping Mike in the beak with a resounding THWAK.
"MIKEY!" howled the angry turtle. "How many times have I told you NOT to wake me up like that!" But Mike had already retreated to the kitchen. Grumbling, Raph stumbled out of bed, down the hall, and into the kitchen. He stopped short and stared at the black, shimmering loop hanging in midair in their kitchen.
"There’s something you don’t see every day," Don commented from the table.
"Pass the muffins," said Leo.
"Um, why-"
"We don’t know," answered Mike. "It’s just there."
"Don?" asked Raph.
"Why do I have to know everything? I'm not a friggin’ intergalactic encyclopedia."
"But you know what it is. Now spill!" Raph growled, threatening Don with a fork.
"Okay, okay...It looks like an Interfanfictional Portal."
"A whosits?" asked Mike.
"You mean....a portal out of our world?" Leo asked, mouth gaping.
"Ew, Leo, shut your mouth, that’s gross," complained Don. "Yes, it’s a portal between worlds. It could go to another part of Fictime, or it could go to Realtime, or even Elsetime."
"Wow," said Raph.
"Wow is RIGHT." They all turned. While they had been gawking at Don in disbelief, something-er, someone-had entered their kitchen. Lacking a better explanation, they all immediately guessed that she had entered via the portal.
Mike squinted. "Ummm...do we know you?"
"You SHOULD. Joanna Capello." They all looked blank. "Joanna Capello? Fire in the Heart? Ashes to Ashes? Shadow Rising? Cold Fire? Come ON!"
"Ummmmm....." Mike said again.
"Something tells me you’re from the cartoon," Joanna said darkly, looking at Mike in annoyance. "Dang, I KNEW I took a wrong turn at ‘Aspect Elemental.’"
"So, uh, what’s up?" asked Raph.
"Elsetime just declared war on the fanfic writers," declared Joanna. "I’m supposed to be off telling my characters. Bother these portals anyway."
"War? Why?" Leo exclaimed.
"Apparently they don’t like it when we use the Portals. They say it drags people out of Elsetime."
"It does?"
"Of course it does," Joanna said to Mike, a little impatiently. "Where else are we supposed to get new and interesting characters? K-Mart? I’ve got to go."
"Um, will we see you again?" asked Don.
Maybe," said Joanna. And turning to Mike, "Do you EVER get any respect around here?"
"Not usually," Mike said, in a much more normal voice than his previous goofy one. "People assume I"m just a putz. Guess that’s a credit to my acting skills. But if I have to have bad dreams all the time to get respect, count me out. I think I like this fanfic better."
"Suit yourself." And then Joanna and the portal were both gone.
"Wait a minute-there’s a DIFFERENT one there now!" exclaimed Raph, when they had all stopped looking at Mike funny.
"Hi," said the person who emerged from it. "My name’s Byron, and we need to talk...."
Chapter 2 coming soon!