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Carl

Fanfiction Challenge!

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I think there needs to be more fanfics around here. So I made this thread.

Basically, you just post a fanfic idea and hopefully someone will write it. Only DoubleFine or Tim Schafer games, obviously, but we can make exceptions for crossovers with anything else. Variety is the spice of life, after all c:

I intended this to be more of an on-site oneshot-type-fanfic thing but feel free to discuss or use ideas and plots for longer fics as well. It's advisable to put your fanfics on places like fanfiction.net if you plan on making longer stories because of the forum's character limit.

A few other things to remember:

:: Use correct grammar and spelling at all times when possible. It helps.

:: Nothing offensive, please. Having said that, slash fics may or may not happen, and if they do, for the sake of all of us, don't make it anything super explicit. If you find slash offensive, kindly ignore it and not start a sh*tstorm here

:: IF YOU DON'T HAVE ANYTHING REMOTELY USEFUL TO CONTRIBUTE TO THIS THREAD, DON'T BOTHER POSTING.

I'll list down all prompts in this post for easy tracking:

Let's start with something easy. How about some crazy Oleander war stories? Go ahead and go crazy on this one

- Stories about Milla and the orphanage before it burned down.

- "Characters Reading Fan Fiction"

- Something more about Oleander in general? Maybe a kinship he’d have with Raz?

- Transcript of advertisement for Brain Tumbler Sasha allegedly bought from a TV shopping channel

- Psychonauts or a Brutal Legend Robot Chicken Fanfic

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This is FAN ART not FAN FIC, this whole Fourm category is for ART, and ART only basicly so, yeah this fourm is basicly useless

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This is FAN ART not FAN FIC, this whole Fourm category is for ART, and ART only basicly so, yeah this fourm is basicly useless

You're not really one to talk about useless threads, dude.

I mean, really. Writing can be art too.

Fanfics usually aren't, but that's beside the point.

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This is FAN ART not FAN FIC, this whole Fourm category is for ART, and ART only basicly so, yeah this fourm is basicly useless

Jeez, don't be so harsh! Technically writing is a form of art...

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honestly, I'd be up for a fanfic challenge if I could write 8U I was actually thinking of hosting a BL Art Collaboration Challenge once my computer's back up for the drawing types here~

YOU HOST THE FANFICS, I HOST THE ART. DEAL? :3

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This is FAN ART not FAN FIC, this whole Fourm category is for ART, and ART only basicly so, yeah this fourm is basicly useless

:I

I don't see anywhere stating that this forum was for art and art only

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WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF RAZ AND LILI WENT ON A DATE.... INTO LINDAS MIND

It's posts like these that make me remember why I want to give up the DFAF altogether

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WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF RAZ AND LILI WENT ON A DATE.... INTO LINDAS MIND

It's posts like these that make me remember why I want to give up the DFAF altogether

Yeah, I kinda have to agree... =\

And on the "art" debate, writing is totally art. Shove it, anyone who says otherwise.

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I like the idea of Morry's war stories. Another good idea is stories about Milla and the orphanage before it burned down. Haven't really seen any stories on that one.

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I’d like to submit “Characters Reading Fan Fiction” as at topic.

Also, something written quickly for the Lulz.

----------------

The sun was hanging high in the sky, the birds were singing, and the telekinetic bears had broken into Sasha’s lab again; it was a normal day at Whispering Rock. At least, it would have been, if Coach Oleander hadn't decided to investigate Nils’ computer activities.

For the last week, Nils had spent almost 24/7 on the only computer in the camp, typing rapidly for a few minutes, then hastily closing what he’d been working on if someone walked into the room. Oleander had become suspicious, and, thinking Nils was looking at inappropriate things, had locked the boy out of the computers until he could take a look at them.

The campers, quite frankly, couldn’t wait. Nils was a “Ladies’ Man”, and while the general consensus was that he wouldn’t try looking up naughty things on the camp computer, and Oleander was way behind the technological curve. A small group of them had gathered outside of the TV room, waiting for the inevitable to happen. Now, they couldn’t find Lili or Nils (obviously) anywhere, and Chloe was using the opportunity to mess with The Coach’s radio, so the had no way to watch The Coach directly.

Luckily, Benny was a master at the “hold a cup to the door and listen through it” trick.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap.

“Alright... His password is “War Hero”, one word, no caps...” Benny whispered, his eyes closed. Bobby snatched the one of the pens Pheobe was absentmindedly drumming on the banister with out of her hand, and, ignoring her murderous look, jotted down the password on his arm.

Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap. Tap tap tap.

“Uh-oh, I think he’s looking at fan fiction....” Benny grimaced, and the other campers exchanged fearful glances.

Click. Click.

“Let’s see. One click for the comic archive, on click for the True Psychic Tales section- Oh snap, he is! Please, please don’t find that one story.”

Click.

“Roasted nuts....” Benny mumbled fearfully as he hopped off of the stairs and dived under the stairs. The other campers rushed to join him, and Milka, who had been listening on the other side of the room, somehow managed to make them all invisible. Convenient, isn’t it?

The was a moment of silence. The campers huddled together. Chef Cruller was oblivious. Then, without warning:

“WHAT THE- I WOULD NEVER- WHY WOULD ANYONE WRITE SOMETHING LIKE THIS?!” he screamed from the other side of the door.

There was another pause, this time lasting several minutes.

“LUTEFISK!!!” The coach shouted as he kicked the door open, threw himself over the banister, and charged out the door. “Alright, where are you, ‘Casanova Lad’? I’ll use your guts for garters, I’ll-”

The sound of The Coach’s ranting stopped as soon as the double doors slammed shut behind him.

“Why, in my day...” Chef Cruller began waving his spatula in the air. “When we wrote stories about people in compromising conditions, we burned them afterwards! Or went on to become famous authors or something...”

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There once was a man from Peru,

Who dreamed he ate his own shoe.

His dentist did laugh,

"Such a sorry gaffe!"

And took out his brain then, too.

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Feddle = you win, seriously, I think I woke someone up with laughter. Curse your awesome.

On topic, I'd say maybe write something more about Oleander in general? Maybe a kinship he'd have with Raz? I like to think they'd have an interesting friendship and be mission partners once an awhile. The two of them on a mission would be a good challenge for a fic. I figure that'd be kind of hilarious or awesome or even both. Hilariously awesome. Remember to add bunnies for more entertainment.

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There once was a man from Peru,

Who dreamed he ate his own shoe.

His dentist did laugh,

"Such a sorry gaffe!"

And took out his brain then, too.

d7e15010d3482a2e4e633d49a0c1520d.jpg

This made my day, Feddle.

I think stories about Quentin and Pheobe's band would be good.

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...the Humerus is a nerve...

*brick'd*

OKAY OKAY.

I'm actually working on one about the Coach's glory days...

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...the Humerus is a nerve...

The Humeris is a bone.

I like to think they'd have an interesting friendship and be mission partners once an awhile.

I've thought about this myself. After the experience they had together, with psyches interwoven with each other, they probably have a deeper understanding of each other and a stronger psychic connection than nearly anyone else. Raz seemed to have a certain respect for the coach from the very start, since he was the first individual he ever associated with the Psychonauts, from the pamphlet. I think they would have a very strong and interesting relationship.

And if any of you suggest slash, I'm going to find and slap you.

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And if any of you suggest slash, I'm going to find and slap you.

Loboto stopped mid sip of his delicious jasmine tea and stared at his computer screen. If he could have twitched his robot eyes, he would have. Instead, he slowly swallowed and continued to read, his normally manic expression slowly replaced by one of horror. Finale, unable to take anymore, he cleared his browser history and shut down his computer.

Shaking, he gathered his [del]brain extrac[/del] dental equipment.

"Sheegor! Clear my schedule-" He called to his slave-assistant as he limped twords the elevator. "-I need to make a house call!"

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I made a fanfiction.

Based off of the original idea of Oleander's 'glory days'.

Enjoy.

“Alright, kids…let me tell you about the time that I took out a rabid lion in Somalia with nothing but my bare hands and a bucket of water.”

“We’ve heard it.” Vernon said in a monotone. All of the other campers nodded. How many times had they heard this one? Two? Three. Coach Oleander frowned. He furrowed his brow on the platform above the roaring fire in the reception area, a bright light in the dark Oregon night in Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp.

“Let’s see…” The coach stroked his goatee in thought (that was the whole reason he grew it, actually-to do just that) “Ah…how about the time when I saved the entire country of Paraguay when I-”

“Yes, coach.” A few of the children groaned in unison.

“How about the time when-”

“Yes, coach.”

“What about-”

“We’ve heard them all a million times.” Raz groaned.

“Hm…”the coach furrowed his brow again. “I’ve got it! Have I told any of you guys about my time serving in ‘Nam?”

“I…” Dougan muttered after a long, awkward silence, “I don’t think so.”

“Really?” The coach donned a shocked look, which gradually turned into a smile. “I’ve got hundreds! Let’s see…how would you kids like to hear about the time when I was stranded in the Vietnam jungle, being hunted by a tiger?” There was a half-awed silence.

The coach took that as his cue to tell his tale. His eyes glazed over as he prepared to tell his epic…

“So…there I was, in a thicket of bamboo, hopelessly lost, unable to find the rest of the regiment.” The coach looked around. All of the campers were silent. Vernon was taking notes. Oleander squatted down and continued. “I looked high and low for them, but didn’t dare make a sound, knowing the enemy could be anywhere.

“Suddenly…it got quiet…too quiet. I heightened my guard and looked around. I backed out of the thicket, into a smaller thicket of reeds, where I spotted stripes of orange…”

All the campers were silent with anticipation.

“I quickly raised my trusty gun, but I didn’t fire it, because it would make the beast attack me. Tigers usually don’t hunt humans…but this one was pissed, as in no-food-for-three-days pissed. He lunged at me, but I dodged, just in time. He lunged for me again, and this time, he took a chunk out of my arm, blood, skin and all.” He paused to roll up his sleeve to show the campers that he wasn’t lying. The campers stared at him in awe, Sasha Nein with his head in his hand, seemingly unimpressed.

“What happened next?” Nils asked.

“Well,” Oleander put his sleeve back down and acted out the motions as he told his epic, “I cringed for a moment, still holding my gun. I shot at the beast, and hit it, right in the side. But that didn’t do me any good. It just made him madder. I shot the thing a few more times, with the same result. I used it then as a club of sorts, whacking the tiger. But then, whoosh! The thing knocked it right out of my hands!”

A collective gasp was heard from the campers.

“I was cornered. I couldn’t do it. The tiger was half-dead, but in a second I would be all-dead. I was backing up from it. Suddenly, there was a bump against my spine, and I turned around, and saw the bamboo forest! I quickly snapped off a sturdy shoot, and whacked the tiger square between the eyes with it! It fell down, out cold. Relieved, I continued to search for the regiment. By nightfall, I had found it. And that…is the end of the story.”

All of the campers were cheering and whistling, hooting and hollering at Coach Oleander’s best war story yet.

“All right, children” Milla cooed, “it’s time for you to head back to your cabins. It’s far past bedtime!” she pointed out, as the sky had grown darker as the coach recounted his days in Vietnam. The children groaned and wearily headed back to their cabins. After all the campers had finally gone, the three elder Psychonauts sat on the stage, gazing at the dying embers of the campfire.

“Maurice…” Sasha finally sighed, “I have a question. Why on earth did you go to such great lengths to make up a story for the scar you got when you fell on a fence when you were drunk?”

“Sasha, one day, you’ll have all sorts of scars and all sorts of people looking up to you as a role model and a storyteller.” Oleander turned to Sasha. “You’ve gotta tell the public what they wanna hear!”

Sasha stared at Oleander for a few seconds before turning his gaze back to the flame.

“That certainly would explain all of those horrifically false war stories…”

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I know. I don't see why so many people have trouble keeping people in fanfiction in-character. It's fun!

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Yes, it can be incredibly annoying.

Then there are those characters that don't show any personality during the game (Like Maxwell, from Scribblenauts), where there's technically no 'OOC' but an 'out of bounds'.

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I know. I don't see why so many people have trouble keeping people in fanfiction in-character. It's fun!

...miri...

It's going to be hard to tell you this, but...

uh...

have you ever read one of your own fanfictions like you're reading it for the first time?

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