Welcome to another epic in the Chronicles of the Pencil God series! I'm your excellent co-host, Pony, with Book 2.
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Okay, this AU is quite complicated. First, everyone shut up and read CoGreen20's series on deviantART, entitled Total Drama Do Over. Or just read and figure stuff out as you go. Whatever. The AU here is based off that one, and thus shall contain all pairings and friendships of that universe. The show has never happened. They all live in one neighborhood, except for Mal.
Unlike TDDO, where (spoiler) happens with Mal, which would have interfered with the story, here he is a totally separate entity from Mike! If you have read a LOTPG story before, you know this to be true. But only in this story, Mal is a derpy Pencil God rather than the serious kind, since that's really how I envisioned him when I initially came across the name "Pencil God" in relation to Mal.
The Pen Lord is a good guy for this story.
Note to everyone: The name "Pencil God" belongs to Wolvesandbeyond454.
Legend has it that one day, the powers of the Pencil God will surface, and he shall take over the world as we know it. His dictatorial reign may only be stopped by a gifted individual. If this individual chooses not to believe in his strengths, the world shall fall to the Pencil God forever. But if he chooses to use his powers to vanquish the Pencil God once and for all, he would go down in history as the greatest hero of all time - the Pen Lord.
The Pen Lord would not be alone in his efforts. To aid him, a young woman would step forward. The two would be destined to be together. This young woman would be given the title of the Pen Princess.
Also aiding him would be the maiden captured by the Pencil God. She was to be the Pencil God's unwilling bride if the Pen Lord were to fail at his mission. The lady was to be gentle and sweet, incapable of harming the innocent. She would be known as the Pen Spy.
His closest friends were to be called the Pen Bros, as they would show him the way to the glory and fun that the world could be. The Pen Bros would open the Pen Lord's eyes to life outside of his comfort zone, as he had never lived a day outside of his cushioned existence.
And last but not least, the Pen Lord was to gather a formidable army of followers. They would all be willing to help him defeat the Pencil God. They would exhibit great courage and strength, using their wits and toughness to ultimately bring the Pencil God down.
And that one gifted individual was to be...
Leshawna frowned and stared at the dusty tome.
"Wait, so who's the Pen Lord?" Robert asked. His companion shrugged.
"It doesn't say," she said simply.
He seized the huge book from her and thumbed through it. After several minutes, he reluctantly handed it back, disappointment clearly written on his face. "There's just an inkblot."
"Yeah." Leshawna looked crestfallen, but then perked up again. "I know!"
"What?" Robert asked curiously.
She whacked him on the arm. "Tag!"
"Hey, no fair!"
Laughing, she ran upstairs, out of the library. Robert quickly put the book down on a table and chased after her.
Unbeknownst to them, the book had opened to the very same page they had been looking at just a few minutes ago. Somehow, a trick of the light perhaps, the word inscribed beneath the inkblot was just barely visible.
"And that one gifted individual was to be Robert."
That was seven years ago.
Present day
A bird alit on a branch, singing sweetly. It was a tranquil morning, the beginning of a beautiful day. The air itself was aquiver with the sense of importance, that something huge was bound to happen. It was a day full of opportunity and -
A sudden crack was heard, and rain started coming down in sheets. Somewhere in the distance, flashes of lightning could be seen on the horizon.
Well. So much for that.
An exhausted teen lay in his room, sound asleep. His alarm clock had been blaring for an hour, though he hadn't even twitched. Numerous maids had come in and out of his room and attempted to rouse him, but to no avail. He just wouldn't budge.
Finally, somewhere around noon, he stirred. Blinking open bleary eyes, he fumbled for a pair of sunglasses on his nightstand. He sat there for a while, enjoying the luxury of waking up on a dark, stormy day. Vaguely, he wondered why his alarm clock sounded like it was running out of battery.
Absentmindedly, he went into his personal bathroom and got dressed in one of his many identical outfits. But today, in spite of the terrible weather, it still felt hopeful. He glanced down at the yellow cuffed shirt and slacks he was wearing, wondering if he should change into something else. Maybe something more casual?
"ROBEEEEEEERT!" his mother yelled from downstairs.
Actually, this would be fine.
Taking his time, he meandered downstairs. Wasting time was something you could do when you were filthy, stinking rich. When he arrived in the grand foyer (as his parents preferred to call it), his mother was standing there angrily.
"What took you so long?" she demanded. "You had better be lucky your father is such a good agent, or else you'd be late to that common... school a mile away!" She spat the word "school" with considerable venom.
"Yes, Mother," Robert groaned. He had heard this lecture all too often. It was starting to become a chore, if such a thing could be applied to one of the richest children in Canada.
"I don't even think you have time for breakfast today, you slept in so late! Honey, you need to go to the commons room for Latin before the professor gets fed up and leaves! You know we pay a lot for such an intelligent fellow to educate you-"
"Sorry, Mother!" Robert said loudly, already on his way out of the room. What did he care about high-quality education? Professor Jacobsen was a really boring, pretentious guy anyway. Plus, he had a lot less money than his family did.
Rolling his eyes, the snob knocked on the door to the commons. A feeble voice said, "Come on in."
He entered the room. An elderly professor sat in a huge armchair near a fireplace. The flames popped merrily despite the gloomy weather. Upon his entry, the professor sat up straighter.
"Hello, sir," he said in a creaking voice. "It's nice to see you again."
"Okay," Robert said, not really listening. As the older man began a lesson on Latin verbs, he gazed outside into the stormy downpour.
What a depressingly hopeful day.
A girl poked her head in the window and tapped on the pane. Robert almost yelled, but glanced back at the professor. He was still droning on. Figuring Jacobsen was too absorbed to notice, the student mouthed, "What are you doing here?!"
The girl frantically rattled the window. Robert facepalmed. Now the old prof' definitely knew something was up.
Sure enough, Professor Jacobsen looked over and frowned. The girl's eyes widened, her face clearly showing dismay and embarrassment. But instead of yelling at her or telling her off, he laughed.
"Robert, why don't you invite your friend inside?" he said when he regained his composure.
"B-but the lesson," he stammered.
The teacher laughed again. "You weren't paying attention in the first place, were you?" When Robert blushed, he laughed even harder. "Go on. Lessons are cancelled for the rest of the day. I swear, the look on your face..." He left the room, still chuckling.
Robert rushed to the window and opened it. "Leshawna! What are you doing? Don't you have school?"
"Don't you?" He sighed, and she started laughing too.
"What is it that everyone finds so funny today?" he grumbled.
"Well, your face IS hilarious," she smirked. "Anyway, there's no school today. It's the first day of fall break."
"Remind me what 'fall break' is?" Robert asked.
Leshawna started laughing again. "Oh my gosh, you're killing me." The rich teen's face fell, and she quickly said, "Sorry. Fall break is when you don't have school for about a week."
"Okay, and what were you doing at my window in a downpour?"
"I wanted to talk to you! It's been two years since we've last seen each other."
"Has it really been that long?" A thought occurred to him, and he gasped. "Do you LIKE me?!"
"What?" Leshawna blinked. "No."
"Oh."
There was an awkward silence. Leshawna's soaking wet clothes were dripping on the carpet. Eventually, Robert coughed and said, "Um... Do you need a towel?" When she nodded, he crossed the hallway and opened one of the (numerous) closets. He returned with an extremely white, fluffy towel and offered it to her. She wrinkled her nose but took it.
"The high standards of your household disgust me," she noted. "How can you stand to be so exclusive?"
"How does everyone else stand to be so poor?" he shot back. Leshawna gasped and dropped the towel. She ran out of the room. "Wait! I'm sorry!" He chased after her.
She led him on a zigzagging chase through the sprawling mansion, startling maids and butlers as she zipped by. When he tried to follow her, he ran head-first into his mother.
"Robert!" she scolded. "What do you think you're doing, running through the house like a common hooligan?"
Already he was pushing her aside to run past. "Sorry Mother!" he yelled over his shoulder.
"Young man!" she called angrily, but he was already too far away to hear her. She sighed and went to a bathroom to clean up.
Meanwhile, it seemed Leshawna had run right off the estate. Robert hesitated. He had never been off the estate before, not without an escort. And what he had seen of the surrounding neighborhood was confusing.
Shrugging it off, he began to run after Leshawna's muddy tracks. He was quickly drenched and almost stopped running, but he imagined his mother's wrath at being so uncouth, shuddered, and kept going.
Her tracks led this way and that, and became harder to follow as they crossed over the tracks of other people. Eventually, he gave up and entered a nearby coffee shop. The interior was almost void of people, with only a dark-haired barista at the counter. She didn't look at all pleased with his arrival, giving him a look of scorn before turning her back to him.
Breathing heavily, unused to such physical exertion, he sat down on a stool and turned to her. "One cappuccino with extra cream," he said. "And hurry up, peasant!"
The barista glared at him. "You're not better than me, idiot. You have no authority to order me around like that. So NO."
"What do you mean, 'no'?" he demanded. "I have more money and power than you could ever HOPE to have! I can say whatever I want."
"Lemme guess, you're that spoiled rich kid who lives in that huge house down the road?" She smirked. "Are you kidding me? I am NOT giving you what you want just because I'm poorer than you. Earn it for a change."
They were about to enter a fistfight, Robert surely to be the loser, when the bell at the door clinked. Both flinched and turned to the door. When she saw who it was, the barista sneered.
"Oh look, it's the bunch of people no one knows what to do with!" She clapped her hands with a mocking glee. "The fatso, the jock failure, and the gamer boy. Isn't this your extended family, moneybags? Too rich! Oh, pun not intended... If by 'not' I meant TOTALLY." Cackling, she got out from behind the counter and turned them all to the door. "Have fun with your new friends, loser!" she yelled at them as the door swung shut with a clink.
Robert turned to his new companions. "What's her problem?"
The boy with curly red hair and glasses smiled sadly. "That's Heather. Don't you know her? She's the one dating Alejandro, the most popular guy in the grade. She's popular too, but also mean as they get. If you get her mad, there's no telling what she'll do to you." He adjusted his glasses and frowned. "Shouldn't you know this stuff? You go to the same school as we do."
Another guy, with floppy brown hair and a tracksuit, elbowed him. "Dude. He doesn't go to our school. He's the rich kid who lives in that mansion down the road."
"Well, excuse me for not knowing! I only moved here a year ago. I kinda figured he just, y'know, didn't have any classes with us."
"Yeah, but who did you THINK lived in that house?"
"Justin? He's stuck-up enough to live there. Or maybe Courtney."
"They'd love to have you think they lived there. Besides, Courtney lives in an apartment, remember?" He screwed up his face and said in a high-pitched voice, "Not everyone can live in such a fancy house, Duncan. I have to live in an APARTMENT!"
The fat, blonde boy laughed. "Hahaha, yeah. She was so mad at him!"
Robert watched their exchange, feeling ashamed that they were talking about people he felt he should know but didn't. "Peasants!"
They looked at him. Glasses coughed. "We aren't peasants," he pointed out mildly.
"Fine. What are your names?"
"I'm Sam," he said, pointing to himself, "that's Tyler," he continued, pointing at Tracksuit, "and that's Owen," he finished, pointing at Blonde. "Who are you?"
"I see no need to provide commoners with that information," he said loftily. Tyler snorted.
"You are one now. Your clothes are wet, dirty, and ripped. If you were really as much as a snob as you seemed, you would have run home by now, crying for your mommy."
"Ugh. I'll tell you, then. My name is Robert."
Owen giggled. "Not much of a rich-kid name! I expected something fancier."
"What are you doing out here, Robert?" Sam asked. "I would have thought you would be inside or something."
"I was... chasing somebody."
"Was it a girl?" Sam smiled hugely.
"Yes! How did you know?!" Robert gasped.
He ignored that. "So you don't have a girlfriend?"
"...no?"
"Bros, you know what this means..." Owen and Tyler grinned.
"BRO TIME!" they cheered.
The snob didn't know what this 'Bro Time' was, but he wasn't sure if he liked the sound of it.
Bro time has nothing to do with romance, in case you're wondering.
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