Oh, yes! Finally! I have this chapter of Power of the Pen ready to rock and roll! The bad news: jaclynfrost decided that she would not be able to write the chapter. Let this take away nothing from her own writings, just her inspiration for this story. That means this chapter falls by default to... Fyrvi! She graciously agreed to write the next chapter, and has done so with aplomb. That said, in light of recent events, I am imposing a one-month deadline. Those who don't have their chapter written in that time—and a month is plenty of time—will not have their chapter accepted. They will have to try again later. But enough talk. This story has actually been really fun so far. It'd be a shame not to get it going again.
Praise for RandomFanFictionPressGirl14: "Pen holder, nice ring! XDDD" - "'One pen to write it all.' This story is so beautifully paradoxical now that I have lost all track of anything ever. That is indeed a compliment! You have bewildered me beyond belief! Screwed-my-head senseless! I concur my countenance is currently clouded in confusion! Corroded with counteractive confuddling conundrums. In other words; I have no bloody idea what will happen next or what just happened or even what my name is at the moment! Well done! 'One pen to write it all.' That should be the summary." - "Eeeheeeeheeeeeheeeeheeeeeeee! I love this story so much! But one question: if the Pen was stolen and the Pen Holder can't write herself out of the story, how is it that she could experiment on Buford and knew what was going to happen? I'm sorta confused. Anyway, that aside GREAT chapter!" - "This is great and all but HURRYYYYYYY" (hey, I got this up as soon as possible) - "Oh, I can't wait for this chapter, I'm all excited. The pen ... the pen is ... no ... I ... I must ... I must ... I don't think the pen really needed to force that. She wasn't mean! My hands. ... no ... she can't know ... how could she? How the F- ... can she read my mind or something? It will ... and it must be ... must be ... The pen must be ... the pen must be ... the pen must be ... MINE! THE PEN MUST BE MINE!"
A maniacally laughing pharmacist rounded the corner, sprinting swiftly, lab coat fluttering wildly in his wake, and still half a block away from Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated.
"Evil scientist!" he hollered to the sky, drawing bizarre glances from passing pedestrians.
Eh.
"Wait," Dr. Doofenshmirtz skidded to a stop as his animated expression twisted into one of bewilderment. "How can you, unknown voice and possible pen holder—" he sent a glare upward, but aiming at nothing in particular "—still tell me what to do? I have the Power of the Pen!"
Do you?
"...Yes, yes I do!" Then after a silent moment (in which he figured the he must have been missing something), he flipped the pen over in his hand and there, on the side, were the words: Congratulations, you've been pranked! The golden fine print on the teal pen was as beautiful as it was deflating. Of course, it's rather well known that all writers always have countless ways of deception and legions of secrets.
Doofenshmirtz's shoulders drooped and his long arms fell to his side. "Nice," he remarked in mock sarcasm through gritted teeth.
Then, after a moment's pause, he was grinning broadly, with all lethargy replaced by 'evil genius'. The scrawny man ultimately gloated as he formulated the sapling of a plan. "I'm getting tingly! See? Evil genius, it just happens." He then proceeded to break into another minute of despicable laughing.
Then some deep-voiced stranger within a nearby crowd commented, "Nutjob."
Perry the Platypus traveled in haste on his webbed feet. The gang was trailing behind their quick semi-aquatic guide. His own flying spy car couldn't have held more than a few people and a single platypus. Also, there was no time to stop at everyone's houses to fetch their own efficient modes of transportation (and Ferb decided to limit the time travel to only two intervening time periods), so Perry, Isabella, Baljeet, Buford, Candace, older Phineas, and the two Ferbs set out on foot to find the legendary Pen.
Prior to the journey, Perry had already contacted Pinky using his wristwatch, following the advice of the previous Pen. He guessed there was another one of those semi-diabolical Pen holders now. The aged chihuahua on the other end was startled to find a youthful Perry on the screen, but listened to what tales his friend had to tell. At the end, when all information was exchanged (along with some exciting and unbelievable stories), they saluted, and both agents knew their task. Pinky's mission was to find Dr. Doofenshmirtz, and stall him for as long as possible, being positive that the Power of the Pen will not be unleashed by him. And Perry was to bring backup, the gang, to stop him and retrieve the Pen.
Suddenly Perry faltered, causing the kids and teens (plus Candace) to stream out of their running formation to be at the uncertain platypus' side. Buford and Baljeet were hunched over, panting like huskies, well, one of them was a husky.
"Hey!" Buford cried, similar to the fashion Heinz had did earlier.
Perry's sense was gone. He couldn't feel where the Pen is anymore, all he knew was that one moment ago it was at D.E.I. and now he didn't. No sense, no intuition, no feeling to where the Pen is now. The Power seemed to just… vanish. Without a trace, one could say.
"Anything wrong, Perry?" asked Isabella.
He drew a blank. They've been running for quite a distance and Pinky was already on his way to interfere. Perry silently cursed when his tracking ability disappeared entirely. Now, the Power of the Pen was a lost relic. He looked up at the inquiring, expecting faces of his companions. Perry shrugged.
There were several groans of disappointment, and some gaped. The only one with a composed manner was the elder of the Ferbs. Was he been quietly awaiting the news, or did he know and realize something they didn't, or perhaps he was only reacting in Ferbland?
Phineas paused, slightly disappointed from previous events and also that the question he was about to ask was never mentioned yet. Then he turned towards the rest (attracting Isabella's attention the most), and asked, "Hey, where's Per—younger me? Sorry, habit."
The light had temporarily blinded Phineas, but it seemed to make his hearing more acute for the moment. He had heard a greeting and his name as he futilely attempted to shield the dazzling brightness using his left forearm. "Hello?" he replied cautiously.
His squinting blue eyes caught color and shapes in a blur, then his vision cleared. There was a lush forest, void of any reptiles or silvery metal, which somehow popped in his head, but it was more so a distant memory (that was probably from the future, if that made sense) than a thought. The world before him now was the perfect picture of a tropical paradise, one that could be found on a brochure of a Hawaiian vacation. That wall had only served as a thin barrier between reality and this place of fantasy. And the door: the gateway to another state of mind.
Though the luxuriant scenery wasn't the first thing Phineas noticed about his new environment. Birds. There were birds everywhere. These weren't your everyday droppings-on-your-car kind of birds. These had the form and sense of a human, and yet, had kept all the grace of a swan. A macaw-like humanoid perched on his mud-plastered throne some distance directly in front of him. He must have been Phineas' welcomer.
The organized hierarchy was vaguely similar, but what was off putting was that this world's main purpose was to maintain a primal utopia, in which the inhabitants were fierce and true natives, with the attitude and attire of the ancient Aztecs. Phineas remembered when the time when they built that old western town. It was the first time for any of his inventions to be built without any technology. Coincidentally, it was also the first time he had hated building any of his inventions.
The leader amazed him: he spoke English, and spoke those words well, and spoke with his own tongue. However foreign his dress and skin and eyes may seem, Phineas was certain: from his mouth came plain English words, in a language he actually understood. He also seemed to be very important, for his throne was surrounded with bulky bird-like creatures carrying obsidian spears, obviously loyal to their leader and enemy of all those who opposed him.
"Phineas Flynn, bearer of the Pen. You must help us!" The voice was imploring, full of vulnerability, yet also simultaneously showing dignity and power, but lesser power in this time compared to others.
Phineas was baffled, he didn't have the Pen. He had a pen, but not the Pen. He figured that there was a difference.
"The lizards, they lie. Listen to us, they are our enemies, but the Power of the Pen shall not fall in their cold-blooded hands—never," the ending came as a screech to his human ears. "If it does, destruction is prominent. We are the last of our kind, our kin conquered mercilessly by the lizards as if we were foolish clowns. Our children live in fear. You must get the Pen away from their reach."
Phineas followed as much information as he can, about lizards, and power and pens. He thought he also heard something about children, clowns, and… clown-children. He then also thought he just quoted something from somewhere. This seemed so impossible, but the kid had much crazier days. And of course, the only thing that's impossible is impossibility. Maybe this had something to do with his future self.
"What about Ferb? Why are you only telling me?" He was worried with how suddenly he was whisked away from his own attic, well, his own attic he would have in the future. But he was compelled, and wanted everything to be as clear to him as glass. This was the first question he asked, mostly because he was worried about his friends and family, and Phineas did everything with Ferbooch.
The bird-leader's voice abruptly went grim and dark, like how one would react to the unexpected news of a funeral. Phineas could barely make out the words, but he heard the deep rumbling of the ominous sound caught in his throat, "Your brother, both of them have other intentions."
And with that word, the world fractured before his eyes as if the scene he watched was a completed, but unglued, puzzle that was harshly thrown at a hard wall. It would have shattered the whole picture into little segments, bits and pieces that one could pick up one and not have a clue about what had happened. Then, the younger Phineas again found himself submerged in blinding light—in the unknown.
I love how each writer brings his/her/its own unique twist and makes each chapter worthwhile. I trust Axis23 can keep that going. All in all, great work folks!
~Review! If you please.