Showing posts with label fanfiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fanfiction. Show all posts

Friday, February 5, 2021

Giving Fanfic Some Credit

Y'all, I think fanfiction (and fanfic authors) deserves a little more credit. True, some of it (even a lot of it) is . . . decidedly not great. But you could say the same thing about published literature, even books published by established, traditional presses. But while the great published books and authors tend to get noticed and celebrated, great fanfiction and fanfic authors — which do exist; I've read quite a few of them — get looked down on because they're not original fiction. And I think that's a shame. So, since this month's February is Fantasy Month theme is fandoms, I think it's a great time to share some reasons why we should give fanfic and fanfic authors quite a bit more credit.

Giving Fanfic Some Credit

  1. Fanfiction brings new people into fandoms and keeps them there. You know why I read Harry Potter (or, the first four books, anyway)? There were a lot of reasons, but one of those was the fanfic I kept running into and enjoying. You know why I stayed a Star Wars fan in the years between when I first discovered the stories and when the new movies came out (and even to this day)? Fanfic, both in traditional narrative form and in the form of text-based roleplaying games into which people put insane amounts of time and effort. (Caleb, Matthew/Dmitri, I'm looking at you. Not that you're probably reading this, but if you are, hi. I've read actual novels with less drama, less emotion, less careful craft than the stories you created.) Sure, a fan who comes into a fandom by way of fanfiction may come in knowing spoilers — but as I said not too long ago, depending on the stories, that may not be as bad a thing as we often act like it is.
  2. Fanfiction helps writers (of all experience levels) grow their skills. There's the obvious way in which is true — writing more is the best way to get better at writing, whether what you're writing is a totally original fantasy epic or a Star Wars fanfic showing the climax of Return of the Jedi from the perspective of Clone Trooper #3054. More than just that, though, fanfiction can allow a writer to really focus on specific aspects of wordcraft, especially characterization and writing voice/style. In that story about Clone Trooper #3054, sure, the plot and world are already built for you; all you have to do is make sure what you write is consistent with what's established. But that allows you, forces you even, to put more thought and energy into characterization. How do you really show who Clone Trooper #3054 is in this scene? How do you really get readers into his head and make them feel what he feels? Or maybe you're writing about an original character and story, but you're using the world and style of an established author. Consciously or unconsciously, in trying to imitate that author's style, you're going to be analyzing it and figuring out its strengths and all the little pieces that make it unique, and your own style will probably improve from the experience.
  3. On a related note, fanfiction helps writers think of the "what if?" Arguably one of the most valuable non-technical writing skills you can have, especially as a speculative fiction writer, is the ability to ask the question "What if?" well. Almost every story starts with a "What if?" What if there were fae and wizards hiding among us in real life? What if you jumped into a swimming pool and came out in another world? What if Rapunzel was deaf and stuck in a clock tower? That's true of fanfiction as well, and asking and exploring the what-ifs of an established story (What if Petunia had chosen to love and care for Harry? What if the Jedi had made Anakin a creche master instead of sending him off to fight?), again, allows you to do it better in original stories too.
  4. Sometimes, the fanfic is better than the original story. A lot of the best fanfics, in my opinion, are the ones where the what if the author pursues is fixing something that detracts from the original, whether that's the stupid choices of characters who are canonically supposed to be wise but whose actions are anything but or adding complexity to characters who didn't get much in the original tale and deserved more. Or sometimes they don't fix any actual issues but they're genuinely better written and more enjoyable than the original. These authors said, this story is good, but it could be even better, and we're going to make that better version exist. And we should appreciate that more than we probably do at the moment.
  5. Fanfic is a labor of love made to celebrate something well-loved. Look, at the end of the day, very few writers of fanfic are getting a lot of tangible reward out of what they're writing. They're improving their skills, they may be getting some compliments and likes, but what they're making — they can't make money off it. They won't get much recognition for it outside of fan communities. But many, many still choose to put just as much time and effort and energy into it as writers of original fiction put into their stories. And they do it to celebrate stories and characters they love — even if they're writing a story that "fixes" the original, you don't write fanfic for a story and fandom you hate. You do it because you care about it very much indeed. And if that kind of labor of love isn't commendable, I don't know what is.

Now, it's entirely possible that I'm preaching to the choir here, since most of the people who read my blog are the kind who probably genuinely appreciate good fanfic and may have even written some themselves. (In fact, I know some of my regular readers have written fanfiction that I've very enthusiastically enjoyed.) But I hope that even if you already love fanfiction, I've given you a new insight or two into why it should be appreciated.

So, what are your thoughts on fanfic? Are there any fanfics you like better than the original story? What's your favorite fanfiction you've read? Have you written any yourself? Please tell me in the comments!
Thanks for reading!

Saturday, June 30, 2018

Steel and Shocks: An IDIA-TSS Crossover Fanfic

Allo, all! June Doings! and my mid-year book roundup should be posted sometime in the next week, but before then, have a fanfic. This was written for C.B. Cook's fanfiction/fanart contest, based on my thought that obviously the two superhero universes she's worked on— IDIA and the Teenage Superhero Society— had to come together eventually. It's not the best piece I've ever worked on, but I had fun with it. Also, cookies for anyone who realizes what the villains are a reference to. (For the record: they're well aware of who they're referencing, and are doing it 100% on purpose, mostly because they get as much of a kick out of it as I do.)

Steel and Shocks: An IDIA-TSS Crossover Fanfic

I’m sitting on the back deck, savoring the last of a strawberry popsicle, when Lannis’s voice bursts into my head. Art park downtown! At the new statue! Emergency! Now! Masks on!

I pulled the popsicle stick from my mouth. What? What’s happened? No answer; Lannis has pulled out already. I jump up and dash back into the kitchen. “Mom, Lannis called! Gotta go!”

Mom looks up from her cookbook. “TSS business?”

“Yeah. I’ll be careful, don’t worry. Bye!” I give her a quick hug and then head upstairs. I need my costume, and then . . . Darn it, how far is the art park? I can’t take the car . . .

I throw on my costume— leggings, tunic, boots, cape, mask, taser in a belt pouch— finishing moments before Saxon— no, sorry, Watcher; she’s masked up— appears in my room. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” I grab her hand. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“No clue. All I know is that there’s a lot of people screaming.” She shrugs, and the world blurs and vanishes. Seconds later, it reforms, and we stand with our backs to a tall hedge in the Foundry City Art Park. The hedges encircle a pebbled open area with a statue at the center, the latest in a series that’s been installed around the city. This one is a series of stacked silvery bubbles, pretty cool-looking.

Significantly less cool-looking are the crowds running, screaming, away from the statue, not to mention the three people that they’re running from. One of them, the one standing on top of the statue, is literally on fire all over, and he— no, wait, she— is shooting fireballs at the running people. Another, a young teen boy with hair dyed dark blue, is floating in midair, creating an ever-widening cyclone of stiff winds around the statue. The third, a broad-shouldered woman whose skin looks like it’s made out of scale-textured metal, isn’t doing anything yet— but somehow, she’s still the most intimidating of the three. I gulp. Oh, great. Legit Big Bads.

With all the chaos, I don’t realize for a few moments that not everyone here is running for their lives. Nightfire’s circling the statue, redirecting the fire-girl’s attacks back at the wind-manipulator and the metal woman. One woman, I’d guess she’s about Starlight or Lannis’s age, actually has a pistol out and is shooting round after round at the supervillains. She’s not hitting anything, as far as I can tell, but I can tell where some of her bullets are going, and they’re so far off-target that one of the supervillains must be interfering. And there are another two girls, my age, helping to evacuate the civilians. Both of the girls are wearing masks along with their street clothes, one red and feathery, the other shimmery and blue. They don’t look like any supers I know, but I guess that doesn’t mean much.

I finally spy Lannis— Clarity, rather— further along the hedge and run towards her with Watcher close behind. “Clarity! What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” Clarity’s face is screwed up in concentration. “Nightfire and I were here for the dedication ceremony, for the statue you know, and all of a sudden, these three just showed up and attacked. I’m still working on getting into their heads to find out why.”

“Oh.” I wonder if I should do something, but no one appears to be hurt, and I don’t have any offensive powers. “Is Starlight coming?”

“She’s on her way.” Clarity pauses. “Oh. More people are here.”

She points, and I look. Sure enough, two new guys just appeared near the statue. One looks almost as intimidating as the metal woman: as big as she is, wearing a leather jacket, a grey mask, and a look that says you’d better not mess with him. The other guy is about my age, with fudge-brown hair and a glossy black mask.

Leather jacket guy doesn’t hesitate. He starts towards the metal woman, who grins— and keeps grinning even when he puts out a hand and sends her flying back into the statue. She’s not injured; she just picks herself up and launches herself at him.

Clarity’s not talking, and I still can’t do anything to help with the fight— I really need to buy a good Glock, or learn martial arts, or something— so I join the other two girls my age in evacuating the remaining civilians. There aren’t many of them, but a few have been hit by fireballs that Nightfire couldn’t redirect. I heal those and then return my attention to the fight.

With no more civilians to target, the fire-girl is focusing all her attacks on us supers, and Nightfire’s deflecting them all back at her and her team. Starlight’s arrived— finally— and she and leather jacket guy have teamed up against the metal woman, now without her metal skin. I can’t see Watcher or the younger guy, but bursts of light keep exploding around the wind-manipulator. The woman in the leather jacket has abandoned the fight in favor of discussion with Clarity, so I head towards the two of them, hoping for new instructions. Across the way, I see the other two girls doing the same.

We’ve only gone a few steps when leather jacket guy manages to throw the metal woman at the statue again. This time, however, she flies up before she hits it and flips over the top. I hear her hit the ground on the other side, but she doesn’t reappear. Instead, the statue shakes and then a single piercing note stabs my eardrums. I shriek and cover my ears. The fire girl throws her head back and laughs, pumping her fist— only to be hit by a fireball from Nightfire, a burst of metal projectiles from leather jacket guy, and an explosion of light from who-knows-where all at once.

She topples off the statue, hits the ground, and lies still.

“Dragonsbane! No!” The wind-manipulator whirls in mid-air, ignoring the attacks now turned on him, and shoots a swirl of blue-glowing wind at the fire-girl. It hits and surrounds her with the same blue light. “Healing breath of the heavens, restore my friend!”

Ok, that’s super weird. But weird or not, it works. Dragonsbane gasps, opens her eyes, and then pushes herself back to her feet to continue her attacks. I dash the rest of the way to Clarity. “Did you find out anything?”

She shakes her head. “Not much. Their minds are partially shielded; I can’t figure out how. I know they’re part of a larger group, though.” Clarity gestures at the woman in the leather jacket. “This is Data; she knows more.”

Data nods. “They call themselves the Izado. Their group just started making trouble earlier this year; they got on our radar because the metal-skin one, the one Anvil and your Starlight are fighting, used to work for FOE. Their goal seems to be to eliminate all supers who won’t join them. Unfortunately, that includes everyone here in Foundry City.”

A yell pulls our attention back to the fight. Dragonsbane just hit leather jacket guy— Anvil, I guess?— with a wave of flame. He staggers back, obviously in pain. The metal woman lunges forward inhumanly fast, grey rippling over her skin. She punches him, one-two, a normal fist to the jaw and a metal one to the burned area. Then she turns and launches herself at Starlight.

Starlight starts to dodge, but fast as she is, the metal woman is just barely faster and tackles her with a steel shoulder to Starlight’s ribs. Starlight hits the ground hard with the woman on top of her. The wind-manipulator, still in the sky, whoops. “Get ‘em, Steelscales!”

Dragonsbane aims another ball of flame at Anvil, but Nightfire deflects it so it shoots towards Steelscales instead. She catches it with a metal fist, which starts to glow red-hot. Then, with a grin, she punches down at Starlight. Starlight just barely twists aside, and the woman’s fist grinds into the pebbly ground.

“We have to do something!” I can’t believe that Starlight seems to be losing. I mean, yeah, I’ve discovered since meeting her that she’s more human, more fallible than she seems. But she should be doing better than this. Shouldn’t she? Then again, if she’s already taken several hits . . . Please, God, let her be all right.

The flames around Dragonsbane die down, revealing a wild grin and spiky hair with pink-dyed tips. “Steelscales! Wingwinds! We’re done here; let’s go!”

Steelscales scowls. “Don’t tell me what to do.” But she vaults off Starlight anyway and runs for the exit. Dragonsbane dashes towards another. Wingwinds starts to fly in a third direction, but before he can get far, I hear a familiar yell from the sky. Wingwinds drops abruptly like something’s fallen on top of him.

Watcher appears on top of Wingwinds, clinging to his shoulders. “Hey!” she yells at Anvil. “He’s got metal on him. Pull on it; help me out here!”

He groans but reaches out a hand anyway. Wingwinds drops faster than before, though he struggles and tries to shake Watcher off. Finally, he hits the ground with a smack and a moan. “Owwwwww . . .”

Watcher sits up on top of him. “Hey, Clarity, I got one of their guys. You want to interrogate him?”

“I will, thank you.” Data steps forward. “I’m Data from the International Defense and Intelligence Agency. IDIA for short. We’ve been tracking the Izado for several months now, and when we heard they were planning to strike in Foundry City, we came to investigate. We didn’t expect an outright attack just yet or we would’ve brought more combat-oriented members.” She glances at me. “You’re Remedy, correct? Their healer?”

“Yes.” It takes me a minute to get the hint. “Oh. Yeah. I’ll go do that.” Starlight’s sitting up, one arm wrapped around her ribs, but she still looks like she’s in pain, and Anvil’s laying there like he doesn’t really want to move. I don’t exactly blame him.

I head to Starlight first and crouch beside her— by now, she’s less intimidating than Anvil. “What do I fix?”

“Broken rib. At least one.” She moves her arm as I place my hands on the injured area. “Advice for you. Avoid fighting metal people hand to hand. It’s unpleasant.”

“I don’t really plan on fighting anyone hand-to-hand, but I’ll remember that.” I finish and stand up. “Ok. You’re good. You’re sure nothing else needs healing?”

“No. Save your power.” Starlight stands, wincing despite her words. “Go help Anvil. I’m going to have a talk with these newcomers.”

“Right. Ok.” I glance after her as she goes. She’s obviously still sore; if she was any other member of the team, any other person in general, I’d find an excuse to hug her and sneakily heal the rest of her injuries. But Starlight doesn’t do hugs, especially not surprise hugs— I know from experience— so I’ll just have to trust her.

I move on to Anvil and wince when I see the bright red burns all over his face and chest. His steel grey mask has escaped damage, somehow, and his leather jacket is only scorched, but his t-shirt is a tattered, blackened mess. I kneel next to him. “Hi. I’m a healer. I’m going to have to touch you to heal this, ok?”

Anvil nods. “Go on. Medic back at headquarters does the same thing.”

They have a healer too? I wonder if I could meet her, or him, whichever, but now’s not the time to ask. I gently place my fingertips on the burns and pull the power through me into the injuries. The burns disappear from the middle outward, not even a scar left behind. “Ok, face next.” Those heal faster since they’re smaller. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

He shakes his head and stands, offering a hand to help me up. Good grief, he’s tall. “I’m Anvil, by the way.”

I take his hand and use the opportunity to send a little extra generalized healing power into him, just in case. “Data told me. Nice to meet you. I’m Remedy— sorry; I should’ve said that earlier.”

“Remedy, huh?” This is a new voice. I turn to find the shorter guy— who’s still taller than I am— standing nearby. He flashes a grin. “Want to join IDIA? We could use another healer?”

“Ummm . . . I, uh . . .” How are you supposed to respond to that?

Thankfully, Nightfire jogs over and comes to my rescue. “Remedy already has a team, sorry. We’re the Teenage Superhero Society. Who are you anyway?”

“I’m Blaze.” He gestures to the two girls I saw earlier, who I now realize are identical save for their masks. “These are Jazz and Pop. Jazz has the blue mask; Pop has the red one. You’ve already met Anvil.”

Before the conversation can go any further, a yell bursts out from the direction of our leaders and captive. We all turn just in time to see Data and Watcher fly backward into the hedge. Wingwinds rockets into the sky. “Who can hold the wind? No one, that’s who! Winds of the western sky, lend me your speed!” With that, he flies away so fast he leaves a breeze in his wake.

I dash towards the group left behind. “Is everyone ok?”

Watcher picks herself up and dusts off her jacket. “I’m fine.”

“We both are, but not for long.” Data stands and heads towards the statue. “I was able to read him and learn the Izado’s plans. This statue and four others around the city hold superpower-neutralizing devices. In an hour and a half, all five will release a blast that will turn every super in the city into ordinary humans. This attack was simply a cover so they could activate this particular statue, the control for all the others.”

I gasp. So do several others. Nightfire doesn’t. “So what? We just destroy the statues. Problem solved.”

“Unfortunately, no.” Data reaches the statue and starts inspecting it. “We can and should eliminate the other four. However, destroying this one will cause the others to go off early. And even one is enough to severely weaken everyone’s powers.”

“So we evacuate everyone?” Pop suggests. “Or, all the supers, anyway?”

“How?” Clarity shakes her head. “We don’t have a way to contact all the known supers quickly unless Starlight has one that she’s not telling us about. And even if we did, there are supers who haven’t revealed themselves publically yet, and we have no way to warn them. Maybe I could broadcast a telepathic message to the whole city, but then everyone would panic.”
“Agreed. Evacuating everyone in time is impossible.” Data glances at Blaze. “Blaze, go get Volt. Wingwinds implied that there’s a computer element to the device; she’ll know how to help with that.”

“On it.” Blaze salutes and disappears. Apparently, he’s a teleporter like Watcher.

I raise my hand. “I don’t know about disabling anything, but I might be able to delay the blast. I can slow down time around this statue to half, maybe even quarter speed. Then we’d have twice or four times as long before the others go off.”

“Unless the others are on their own timers, in which case they could all go off while we’re still standing here.” Nightfire circles the statue a few times. “There’s got to be a transmitter in here, at least. I don’t know about a computer. Does this thing open up?”

Blaze reappears, along with a tall girl whose purple mask matches the dyed ends of her hair. “Here I am. What’s going on?”

Everyone tries to explain at once until Data yells for quiet and recaps the entire episode in a few short sentences. When she finishes, Volt nods determinedly. “Well then. This is doable. Data, did you get anything at all from Wingwinds about how this works?”

Data shakes her head. “Nothing. Apparently, Steelscales designed it.”

“Figures.” Volt sighs, and she and Nightfire go to work.

Data turns to the rest of us. “While they work, we need to destroy the other devices. Then we can mitigate the effects if we fail here. We’ll split into three groups: one here, two others each destroying two statues. Anvil, you’ll lead one team. Starlight, will you take the other?”

Starlight nods once, her face giving no clues as to how she feels about Data taking charge like this. Data goes on. “Jazz and Pop, one of you should join each team and stay in touch with one another. Clarity, I understand that you’re also a telepath. I’d appreciate if you stayed with me and kept tabs on both teams.”

“I can do that.” Clarity manages a smile— not that you can see it since her costume hides the bottom part of her face, but it shows around her eyes. “Anyway, someone has to keep an eye on Nightfire.”

Nightfire glances up from the statue to roll her eyes at Clarity. Both Clarity and Data ignore her. “Watcher, I believe you’re a teleporter, yes? You’ll join one team; Blaze will go with the other. That leaves Remedy.”

I know I’m not really useful in this situation. I don’t have offensive powers, I won’t be much help in destroying the statues, and I’m not a mindreader or a teleporter. Even so, I can’t help feeling like I’m a kid getting picked last for the dodgeball game again. “I guess I could just stay here and . . . um . . . stand guard or something?”
But Data shakes her head. “Go with one of the teams. The more people we have out there who know the city, the better. If another group needs your powers, someone can teleport you there.”

Anvil speaks before Starlight can. “I’ll take her, Jazz, and Blaze.” He looks at me. “I hope you have some idea where the other statues are.”

“They’re probably the other four in the series.” I glance at Starlight. “Right? I know where all of those are, more or less.”

“That seems logical, yes.” Starlight considers. “My team will take the one by the museum and the one on North Central.” She beckons to her team— Watcher and Pop. “Let’s go.”

“Right. See you all later.” Watcher grabs both other girls and they disappear.

Blaze grins. “Come on, can’t let them finish first. Remedy, where are we going?”

“Um.” I search my mental map. “There’s one near the corner of Franklin Avenue and Madison Street. Is that good enough?”

“Perfect. Grab on.” Blaze holds out his hands. I take one, Jazz grabs the other, and Anvil places a hand on Blaze’s shoulder. Lights and colors flash around us. The next moment, we're standing in an alleyway, looking out on Franklin Avenue.

I duck out and glance back and forth. “To the right, I think.”

Anvil steps out after me. “Lead the way.”

I do, hoping I remember correctly. Apparently, I do because a few minutes later, we find another silvery statue, this one shaped like a sphere with a lot of swirls growing out of it and twining together as they reach towards the sky. Anvil studies it a moment, then reaches out one hand. The statue trembles a moment, then implodes in on itself until it’s nothing but a lump of metal no larger than a bowling ball. The few people who had stopped to admire it look around in confusion, but they don’t seem to notice us.

Anvil tucks his hands back in his pockets. “Easy enough.”

“Great!” Jazz pauses. “Ok, there’s good news and bad news. The good news is that Volt and Nightfire got the first statue open and found the control panel for the device. The bad news is that the control panel is, for some reason, connected to the internet. And Data touched the control panel.”

Blaze groans. “Oh no. So she tried to download the internet again.”

“Basically. She’s out cold.” Another pause. Jazz scowls. “More bad news. Volt and Nightfire found a timer. We’ve only got fifteen minutes left.”

“What?” I exclaim, unable to hold it in. “But we were supposed to have an hour and a half.”

“Apparently Wingwinds lied.” Another pause. “On the upside, Pop’s team got their first statue too. Pop’s gushing over how Starlight apparently just turned the whole thing into gas. Now they’re heading to their next statue.”

“We’d better hurry too.” Blaze holds out his hands again. “Where to this time, Remedy?”

“Furnace Street. Near the bank.” I frown, taking Blaze’s hand. “I think. It might be Forge Street. I always get those two mixed up.”

“Guess we’ll find out.” Blaze does his thing, and we reappear in another alleyway, this one directly across from the bank.

I peer out at the street. “Oh, good, I was right. And the statue’s right there.” I point. This one is kind of a cross between a flower, a tree, and firework, still in silvery metal but with edges painted gold and purple. It’s a shame we have to destroy it. “Can you crush it from here?”

“Yes.” Anvil reaches out, but before he can do anything, something launches itself off the roof of the building beside us and lands on top of him. He goes down with an “Ooooffff.” Steelscales rolls off of him and comes up on her feet, a smirk of triumph on her face.

Anvil picks himself back up. “I didn’t think you’d be back.”

Steelscales lunges forward, fists flying. “Like I’d let you ruin all my hard work, idiot. I’m here to stop you.”

None of her blows connect. Instead, she skids back— Anvil must be pushing on her dozens of piercings and metal accessories. Then he pulls a handful of small metal pieces and shoots them at her like a hail of bullets. “Why bother? The device will go off in less than fifteen minutes. As soon as it does, you lose your powers just like the rest of us.”

Steelscales spreads her arms. As soon as the first pieces of metal hit her body, her skin ripples and turns to silvery metal. “Do I look like an idiot? When I devised the power neutralizer, I made sure I found a way to shield myself from its effects. How else was I going to test it without accidentally getting rid of my own powers? I’ll be fine, but—” She launches herself at Anvil again. “You? You’re going down, and so is every other super in Foundry City.”

Anvil doesn’t reply, just pushes his hand forward again. I guess he’s trying to throw her back like he did before, but instead, she rockets up, flips over his head, and tackles him from behind. “Just give up already. Tell you what, if you surrender, I’ll let your friend teleport you and the rest of your crew out of the city. You can run around playing Superman a little longer.”

“I am not— going— to lose— a fight— to a girl— made of— metal!” Anvil manages to roll himself and Steelscales over so he’s on top of her. He pulls her arm away from his throat, then pushes himself onto his knees.

Steelscales launches herself back up and grabs his neck again. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Meanwhile, I’m going to crush you.”

Anvil grunts and pushes himself to his feet. I bite my lip, watching. We need to do something, but what? It’s a miracle that Steelscales hasn’t taken out the three of us already.

I feel a touch on my arm and hear Jazz’s voice poking into my head. Blaze is keeping us invisible. He does light manipulation, not just teleportation.

Oh. That makes sense. Can we use that somehow? I know my powers still won’t do any good. My taser, though . . . if she’s made of metal or has metal skin or whatever, she’s probably vulnerable to electricity, right? And if I can sneak up on her while I’m invisible.

Oooh. Good idea. Jazz again. Hold on. She’s silent for a minute, then: Ok. Blaze, you hold onto Remedy and both of you sneak up behind Steelscales. Then, Remedy, you get her with the taser and grab her, and Blaze, you teleport all three of you back to Data and Volt.

Got it. I pull out my taser and make sure it’s ready for use. Blaze grabs my shoulder. We both break away from the wall and creep towards Anvil and Steelscales.

As we get closer, Steelscales glances back. “What was that?”

Oh no she heard us. I grab Blaze’s wrist with one hand and lunge forward, jamming the taser against Steelscales’ bare shoulder, and pull the trigger. Electricity arcs between the two prongs and all over Steelscales’ body. She jerks and spasms, unable to control her movements. Anvil pulls free and turns around.

I drop the taser and grab Steelscales’ shirt. “Blaze! Now!” Light swirls around us, almost blinding this time. Then we’re standing by the statue once more.

I let go of Steelscales. “Got her! How long do we have left?”

“Only a few minutes.” Clarity steps forward, peels off one glove, and carefully puts her fingers against Steelscales’ forehead. She winces, and her face twitches. Then she pulls back and announces, “Try 10-r-o-e for the password.”

“10-r-o-e. Ok.” Volt taps furiously on something half-hidden by this side of the statue. “I’m in! And now . . .” She presses a few more buttons. The statue lets out a high-pitched whine, followed by a few cracks and muffled explosions. Volt grins proudly. “I sent a deactivation signal to all the devices, then ran the self-destruct command on this one.”

“Well done.” Data, who’d been lying next to the statue, blinks and sits up. “Blaze, take Steelscales back to headquarters and put her in a cell, one with the power dampener turned on. Then find Trav and come pick up the rest of us.”

“Your wish is my command.” Blaze salutes at Data and grins at me. “Nice meeting you and your friends, Remedy. We should get together again sometime. Tell the others I said bye.”

“Nice to meet you too. You know where to find us.” I smile and wave as he disappears, taking Steelscales with him.

Data stands shakily and turns to Clarity. “Thank you to you and your team for your help. We couldn’t have pulled this off without you. And while I understand that you’re not interested in joining us, Blaze has the right idea. We should try to meet up again and discuss how we could potentially work together.” The corners of her mouth curve up like she’s holding in a laugh. “But next time, we’ll try to leave the supervillains at home.”
 

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

My Fault: A Star Wars Fanfic

In which I celebrate Star Wars Day by- what else?- writing a bit of fanfic. A note for those unfamiliar with the characters and circumstances, otherwise known as everyone who doesn't take part in the CaC2 roleplay on Whitehall Castle forum, otherwise known as most of my blog readership: this roleplay is set before any of the movies, during the Old Republic era (around the year 3653 BBY, to be exact). These particular events occur shortly after a group of Jedi have made a raid on the Sith Academy on Korriban in an attempt to recover a stolen holocron. The results, however, have been less than successful . . .

Three ships left Korriban, two members lighter than when they’d come. In the medbay of the Felrel, Ver Tai slumped by the bacta tank where her sister rested, still and silent and serene. If Ver only looked at Dae’s face, what she could see of it beneath the mask, she could almost convince herself that Dae was simply sleeping. But her eye invariably wandered lower, to the bloodstains at Dae’s midsection, and so she couldn’t forget how close death still lurked. As if Polla hadn’t been enough . . .

Thoughts of the day spun in a mental misery-go-round, despite Ver’s efforts to not dwell on what had happened. They’d failed. She’d failed. The holocron was still lost, Aza was captured, Dae had almost died, Polla had died because Ver hadn’t been able to defend herself, hadn’t moved fast enough, hadn’t fought well enough . . .

Once or twice the cycle slowed enough for a few halfhearted, un-Jedi-like thoughts of what she’d do if she happened to meet the Sith who attacked Dae, who left her bloody and dying . . . the Sith who used whirling blades rather than sabers. Strange, that was, and frightening. Lightsabers and blasters blackened and burned; they didn’t leave their victims to slowly bleed out . . . She should’ve been there when Dae was attacked; they should’ve been gone before the Sith even realized Dae was there; why hadn’t they moved faster . . .?

Ver was still sitting there when the ship docked in the Temple the next morning. But when she tried to follow the infirmary workers come to move Dae, they pushed her aside and told her to go get some rest, that there was nothing she could do, that she looked like she was about to collapse and they didn’t have space for a fool Jedi who worried herself to exhaustion. That might actually have been true, with all the attacks that had been happening lately, and so Ver straggled off as ordered.

But she didn’t actually make it to her room, or to the dining hall, or to anywhere in particular she might’ve meant to go. Instead, her former master found her crumpled against the wall in a little-used corridor, head in her arms, elbows resting on her knees. He’d heard about the mission by now, of course. A Jedi had died; everyone knew about it. And so he didn’t have to ask what happened, what was wrong, how could he help. Instead, with an exasperated shake of his head, he pulled Ver to her feet and half-supported, half-dragged her to her room, ignoring her muttered insistence that she was fine, that she’d be fine, and no, she didn’t want to talk about what happened.

Dae wasn’t awake the next day, when Ver checked after six hours of exhausted sleep, an official Council debriefing, and a hundred inquiries from well-meaning friends and acquaintances about was she all right and how was Dae doing, and an equal number of assurances that they’d both be fine. Ver hadn’t protested the latter, even though they were wrong. They didn’t know Dae would recover; even the doctors didn’t know if Dae would recover; and whatever happened, Ver wasn’t sure she herself would ever be fine again. Not with Aza captured, Polla dead, Dae dying, all because she’d failed, failed, failed . . .

The next day passed, and the nurses transferred Dae from the bacta tank to a bed. The wounds on Dae’s midsection were reduced to pink scars by now, but still Dae didn’t awaken . . . The infirmary attendants assured Ver that this was fine, this was normal, that after such a close brush with death some patients didn’t wake up for some time because their minds and bodies were still healing, and bacta could only do so much. Ver worried anyway, and now she practically took up residence in the chair by Dae’s bed. The nurses and other workers grew used to seeing her there: slumped in restless sleep, or meditating, or reading or working on her datapad, or holding Dae’s hand and talking to her in hopes of a response.

Once or twice, Dae drifted close enough to consciousness to talk too- in her sleep, muttering about masked Sith and flying blades and lightning, and calling Ver’s name. But not once did she fully awaken, even as the days turned into weeks and still Ver kept her vigil, only departing when basic necessities and responsibilities forced her to. Others came by often, bearing comforting words and mugs of tea and occasionally the suggestion that Dae would rather Ver go on with living her life rather than just sitting here and fretting. Ver accepted the first two gratefully and glared at the last. Her life could wait until Dae woke up, and surely it wouldn’t be too much longer, it couldn’t be . . .

When the others weren’t there, and when Ver had run out of things to say to Dae for the moment, her thoughts inevitably turned back towards the mission. She replayed every moment, every choice in minute detail, wondering: if she’d done this, if she’d said that, if she’d moved faster here or responded better there, would they not have failed? Would they have recovered the holocron? Would Aza not have been captured, Dae not be lying here? Would Polla still be alive? Would I not have failed? She never found answers, only a growing certainty that if she’d simply been better somehow; everything would’ve been all right.

And then, late one night, a long-awaited voice interrupted the spin of her thoughts as she drifted towards dozing: “’S not your fault.”

Ver started. “What?” She turned-

And there was Dae, eyes open, half-turned on her side to face Ver. “’S not your fault. Whatever you’re thinking is your fault, ‘s not. Never is, ‘cept when you make it that way.”

Not her fault, she made it her fault . . . Ver couldn’t think through the ramifications of Dae’s words right now; there were more important things to focus on. “You’re awake.”

“’Course I am.” But Dae’s eyes drifted towards closing again, and her tone was still heavy with sleep. “I got tired of feeling you mope beside me, so I had t’ wake up and set you straight. How long’d I nap?”

“Two weeks.” Ver took her sister’s hand where it rested on the rails of the bed. “And if you ever come this close to dying again, I’ll . . . I’ll kill you myself.” She’d meant the threat to be teasing; it came out wobbly and suggestive of tears.

“Don’t plan on it. It wasn’t fun . . .” Dae shook her head, trying to stay awake. “Next time, you can take on the ridiculously overpowered Sith and I’ll sneak around and enjoy myself, ‘k?”

“I vote we both sneak around and leave the overpowered Sith to fight each other instead.” Ver’s smile faded. “The mission failed, Dae.”

“I know.” Dae squeezed Ver’s hand weakly. “But ‘s still not your fault.”

Ver nodded silently. The questions, the self-accusations still swirled. But in that moment, she could almost believe Dae- and even if Dae was wrong, maybe it would be fine. She had another chance. And this time, this time she wouldn’t fail.

Happy Star Wars Day, and May the Fourth be with you. Hope you enjoyed the fanfic!-Sarah (Leilani Sunblade)