Well then...
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!
What I have done on the spur of the moment is create a short fic about the characters from all four of my stories (two Code Geass and two Transformers), both OC and not: They are all having a Christmas Party! The special guest is... well, you'll see!
Of course, it is all non-canon in, well, any story ever written, and all the characters will be completely OOC.
Once again, Merry Christmas! Please R&R!
As it was (because, why not?) there was a hundred-foot tall Christmas tree located in the large auditorium. Around it where characters old and new (from the four current fan-fictions that happened to have been published at the current time of Christmas 2011) who dined and conversed at the Creator's pleasure. He had not yet arrived; although there was no doubt that he would be the guest of honour at the party. After all, he was awesome.
Unfortunately, all was not well on Christmas Day.
"Chapter eight!" Chromia cried incredulously, "I'm not even an OC and he kills me off by chapter eight!"
"Look on the bright side," Amadeus Tyrone told her, "You're still in the 'Tyranny' fic… if it's still alive."
The different casts of the four fanfics had split into different groups, characters from different universes talking about the stories they were involved in, the acting, the description, the general size of chapters, etc.
"I had a contract for at least fifteen chapters!" Chromia argued, still angry, "He breached my contract! I should sue his ass!"
"Sue the Creator?" Arcee asked her sister with a raised titanium-eyebrow, "Is that even possible?"
"I don't see why not," Amadeus considered, "After all, he's human, he made the contract; sue the git."
"B-But he's like a god!" Arcee argued, "He could crush you like an insect!"
"Don't be so silly," Chromia chided, "It's not as if we're in one of his stories at the moment, is it?"
"What I don't get," Lucia said slowly, forking some turkey at the buffet table, "Is whether or not I'm an OC from the Creator's mind or an OC from that other guy's mind, and we've just been reused for the continuation of The Empress's Wish?"
C.C. thought for a moment, before answering with: "You might as well say that I'm an OC. In fact, I probably am; no matter how close I am to the original or previous C.C. in terms of personality, actions or thoughts, I will not be the same C.C. created by the creators of Code Geass. So, really, for every individual fic involving me, it will be an entirely different C.C., no matter my personality, actions or thoughts."
"Jeez, you could have just picked one, mom," Lucia yawned, "So which one is it?"
"The first, Lucia," C.C. sighed.
"I still don't get it," said Bumblebee, "You two are in a continuation of a story… which is a continuation of another story… that wasn't written by the Creator?"
"Yeah, but that guy was a better writer than the creator," C.C. replied, "For example, he didn't turn me into a completely insane bitch."
"No," said a voice behind her, "Just dead."
C.C. turned to see R.R./Lelouch approach, his Magnificent Bastard smile set in stone.
"At least it was better than completely blanking little Lucia," C.C. argued back with another smile, "I swear, that's the last time that I work with the Creator ever again."
They kissed and Lucia grimaced.
"Really?" she asked, utter disgust on her face, "In the middle of a room? Filled with strangers?"
"Don't mind me," Bumblebee laughed, "I had two humans making out on my hood in a movie I did!"
The three humans looked up with strange face.
"But…" Bumblebee mumbled, shuffling away, "It was wrong… yeah, the director wouldn't say no… bit of a nazi he was…"
Meanwhile, outside the building of incomprehensible size and structure, a car of unmatched beauty and elegance pulled up. A single teenager got out.
He looked up at the building only he understood and gave a small smile. A single sentence could paint a thousand pictures.
The Creator headed up towards the building entrance.
His sentences were waiting.
Optimus Prime walked through the huge room, looking up.
I guess we are insects to some…
He came upon the incredibly large Christmas tree. It was a forest unto itself.
What creations of the imagination can produce such wonders? For what can be accomplished without it? There would be no invention, no originality, no emotions, no daring, no curiosity, no… real existence. Such a blessed thing the mind is, indomitable, utterly beautiful… such aesthetics, such art—
"Oi, Gundam!" cried the Christmas tree, "Stop philosophising and help us!"
Optimus, quite taken aback by the talking flora, found himself in a most awkward position.
"Er," he said, "Nice to meet you, tree. Live long and prosper."
"I'm not a tree!" shouted the tree in anger, "Focus your eyes, Byakou! Have a closer look!"
Optimus's optics zoomed in and, even more surprisingly, saw a camouflaged human on one of the long branches. It had a toga made of leaves while wielding a wooden spear and shield.
"Human?" Optimus asked, "Who are you?"
"Name's Greg, Voltron," Greg said, "I'm in charge of Scaffolding Tribe #29, whose job it was to help erect this tree. However, upon its completion, the Creator forgot to write a paragraph on how I and my family got down from this thing. So we've been stuck here ever since, conquering the other Scaffolding tribes to try and form a Scaffolding Republic. But now that we're in a story again, we can now get down!"
"But this is a party," Optimus argued, "The Creator isn't here yet, so he can't write how you can descend."
"Ah, bull," Greg dismissed, "Listen up EVA; how are we talking, eh? The Creator's writing it, that's how! So we just have to wait until he writes how we will escape this tree, right?"
The two of them, Optimus Prime and Greg the Scaffolder, waited for the description to be written. But none came.
"I think we've waited long enough," Optimus shrugged.
"It's only been three sentences!" Greg argued hotly, "You've got to give the bastard time, Megatron!"
"I'm Optimus," the leader of the Autobots replied with a growl.
"Well, at least I got the universe right this time."
Speaking of Megatron…
"You know, Starscream," Megatron stated, "Performing in the position of one who has nothing more than an intention of total tyrannical dictatorship and unmatched genocidal tendencies really does not publicize my effortless performing in Shakespearian art!"
"Amen," Starscream agreed bitterly, sipping on some unleaded.
Playing the role of the bad guys sucks. People just don't realise that we put as much effort, if not more, than the Autobots, yet we are credited with boos and hisses…
"Even Starscream," Megatron intoned sadly, "Who has only achieved a Level 1 Diploma with merit in dramatic presentation has had more page-time than I in the works of 'Good Mourning' and 'At The Barricades Of Tyranny'! It is utter ignorance of upper class acting! And my role is even more important in the narrative's text!"
"Your talent is completely unrecognised," Starscream bit with sarcasm.
Megatron, too vain to note it, continued. "Even poor Shockwave, who has all the performing expertise of a homosexual fish, had a twenty-thousand word chapter! And I? I have had only canonical lines or utter garbage in the fiction department! I have had two resurrections for Christ's sake!"
Although Starscream could have cut in a line about the similarities between his master and a 'homosexual fish', Megatron could be a mean bitch.
"Even Soundwave's pets have had more action than you, sir," Starscream cut in with an innuendo. But this one didn't slip past Megatron's defence.
The acting-Decepticon Leader gave Starscream a dirty look and went off to find less intelligent company. Soundwave sidled up to Starscream.
"I don't understand," he said, looking at the sauntering Megatron's back "How can one be so… camp, yet play such a dominating role?"
Starscream gave him a 'are you serious' look.
"Oh…" Soundwave said with a sudden revelation, "I see."
"You want some?" Leadfoot roared drunkenly, "I'll give you some!"
"Come on then you piece of tin!" Raven slurred back, having gone too tipsy with the wine, "I'm surprised that you aren't an OC!"
Leadfoot belched a battle cry and charged, but was held back by Roadbuster and Leadfoot. Raven was likewise held back by Lucia and Amadeus.
"What are they arguing about?" Malphas asked.
"The relevance of OC's within fanfics and whether they are required or even relevant," Onslaught replied.
"In that casssssssssssse," Malphas hissed, "Raven, knock hisssssssss head off!"
Lucia stepped in front of Raven and told him: "Don't worry, I got this."
She turned to Leadfoot and her eye turned red.
"Phantoms of the past, eviscerate your mind!"
A red eagle only she could see leapt from her eye and made straight for Leadfoot.
Unfortunately, nothing changed.
"Silly woman," Leadfoot slurred and belched, "Your demonic powers of eyesight won't work on optics!"
Lucia snarled and prepared to charge…
But at that moment, there came the cry of relevance and authority.
Thundercracker, party organiser and host, rang a bell and cried out: "Entering, his omnipotence, the Creator!"
Every head in the room turned at this and stared towards the doorway.
There stood a boy, no more than fifteen, who was dressed in the finest clothes in the universe that would make any tailor weep tears of pure gold, who held the handsomest face in known reality that would make any angel hiss with unmatched envy, who had the longest schlong in all of existence that would make any ten-dollar lady of the night whistle in admiration.
He quickly zipped it back in and smiled.
"Well then," said Raum70, "Looks like we're all here."
There was utter silence all around as characters from both Code Geass and Transformers stared with a mix of emotions. Most were on the wrong side of respect.
"Er, well?" Raum70 questioned, "Where's my applause?"
"We," said Chromia, coming out of the crowd, "Need to discuss my contract."
Raum70 stared at her with something akin to mild amusement.
"Ah, yes," he said, smiling, "Chromia, was it? I had you killed off in… what was it, chapter nine?"
"Eight," corrected the angry Autobot.
"Yeah, we want to talk as well," said another voice in the crowd.
Mikaela Banes and Sam Witwicky approached.
"We," said Sam, "Only got one chapter. I call bull!"
There were murmurs of agreement. Raum70 let the smile slip slightly.
"It is because, unlike anime or CGI, you were played by real actors," the Creator whined pathetically, "It is quite… unnerving, using characters once played by real people."
"Then why are Lennox and Epps still alive?" Mikaela asked, a frown upon her plastic skin.
"Uh." Raum70 began to feel control slipping from his grasp. The crowd was restless at the injustices.
"And I deserve to be placed within roles that are more fitting to an actor of my stature!" Megatron exclaimed.
"Well, we're all booked—" Raum70 muttered weakly.
"And what the hell wassssssssssssss 'El Dorado' about?" Malphas hissed.
"Well, there are many themes—"
"I'm never doing a fic with you again!" C.C. spat.
"Hey, that's not fair—"
"I'm going to sue your ass!" Chromia cried. Suddenly, the crowd were riotous.
"HOW DARE YOU!" Raum70 shouted, his voice filled with the echoes of thunder flatulence, "I AM YOUR CREATOR! I AM A GOD! I CREATED YOU ALL AND I SHALL BE UTTERLY RESPECTED AND SERVED BY YOU IDIOTS! I AM THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA, THE BEGINNING AND THE END, THE ETERNAL AND THE IMMORTAL… SO SHUT THE F*** UP!"
There was hushed, angry silence. But they submitted to his orders.
"Right then," Raum70 said with a smile, "Now let's have a party—"
"GET 'IM, BOYS!" roared Greg the Scaffolder. All of a sudden, a dozen tribe-men of the hundred-foot tall Christmas tree leapt out of the foliage armed with bludgeons and spears.
"WHAT THE—" Raum70 managed to cry out before he was mobbed by a bunch of half-naked flora builders. They proceeded to club and stab him repeatedly, until there was nothing left but a bloody rag and the methane of thunder's passing.
"WE ARE FREE!" Greg roared. And there was much rejoicing.
As the characters of the tyrannical overlord began celebrating in earnest, one did not join in. Unseen due to the wild cheering, Thundercracker slipped out the front door.
All of a sudden, there was a crack of lightning and the building was split asunder.
"Uh oh," Optimus muttered.
All of a sudden, all that was real and all that was fake was torn up and plunged into a ball of complete chaos. Lelouch/R.R., C.C., Lucia, Jeremiah, Raven, Amadeus, Natsume, Shimada, Emperor Lelouch, the ninjas, Roy, Fiona and her father, Liam, Ling, the Mogami brothers, Lycris, Raum, Malphas, Ose, Orobas, Hunger, Balam, Beleth, Asmoday, Forneus, Bill, Druakni, Lies, Jugular, Kallen, Suzaku, Rolo, Nunnally, Optimus Prime, Megatron, Bumblebee, Starscream, Soundwave, Shockwave, Ratchet, Roadbuster, Leadfoot, Topspin, Arcee, Chromia, the Twins, Barricade, Sideswipe, Mirage, Blazemaster, Silverbolt, Flatline, Ruination, Space Case, Bludgeon, Astrotrain, Fracture, Mixmaster, Deadlift, Dead End, Crankcase, Crowbar, Hatchet, Skipjack, Long Haul, Overload, Rampage, Reverb, Skystalker, Jetstorm, Overcast, Scavenger, Scrapper, Gunbarrel, Afterburner, Divebomb, Fearswoop, Sideways, Kim the Pretender, Dreadwing, Onslaught, Lacerator, Blackfist, Sixshot, Vortex, Incinerator, Skywarp, Stormslayer, Stockade, Voltage, Barrel-Roll, Ramjet, Recoil, Moonbeam, Armorhide, Payload, Lockjaw, Skyblast, Wingblade, Warpath, Grindcore, Breakaway, Prowl, Clocker, Crosshairs, Nightslayer, Elita-One, Mindwipe, Hightower, Brimstone, Sonar, Marcus, Stacy, Ryder, the staff of HARP and Harbinger were all deposited into the chaos as if picked up and dropped. They found themselves in a whirlwind of destructive and creative force, unmatched and incredible. It had the force of a million tornados and the velocity of a billion cyclones… indefatigable and utterly immeasurable…
I wondered how long I would leave them there.
"Why do you spare me, o lord?" Thundercracker asked.
Because I like moles. I selected you to be the host, just in case they decided to rebel against my doppelganger. It seems that the creations can fight back.
"So what now?"
Nothing. This was a simple Christmas special, devoid of both emotion and plot; I will go back to writing more serious fics.
"Perhaps…" Thundercracker spoke wisely, "You should take your stuff a little less seriously."
Hmm… perhaps you're right. But then again, this might count as something not so serious, hmm?
"Fine… but we can't just have nothing, can we?"
Oh, alright then; as this is a Christmas special, we'd best have a Christmas Aesop.
"Very good, o lord."
All of a sudden, everything was happy again, the party was in full swing, where both Optimus and Megatron cut the turkey together and R.R. and Emperor Lelouch served the black pudding. No-one complained about contracts, acting, storylines or negativity of any sort, unless it was constructive criticism that taught people something. So in the end, whether a fanfic has Original Characters or in-universe ones, whether it is serious or crack, whether it is lemon or troll, whether it is badly written or a literary masterpiece, none of it should be taken too seriously or you might lose sight of the true beauty in all of it; imagination.
"Very well done, if I may say so myself," Thundercracker noted, "A bit short, but it is past midnight in the United Kingdom."
Agreed. Now get back into 'Good Mourning':
We've got fans to please!
Fin