The Worst Crossover Fanfiction in the History of the Whole Entire Universe Ever.
By Blythe (who is oh so proud of herself, as per usual ^^v)
CHAPTER 2
Once upon a time-
"Hey, you used that to start chapter one!"
"That's what makes it BAD, Xellos."
"Oh. Proceed."
Once upon a time, deep in the heart of the Centra continent, there was a school. Not just any school, of course, because that would make this fiction dull and boring and no one would read it-
"Who says we have readers now?"
"If you don't stop interrupting me, there aren't going to be any. And you're going to be missing a vital part of your anatomy."
"Ah. Proceed."
At any rate, the school was special. And not just because it could fly, shoot cannons, breed dinosaurs, and produce headmasters who wore kinky leather pants and fur. No, the school had become open to all who discovered it, to any student who wished to learn, any professor who wished to teach, any background character who wanted to blend into a different background.
As such, it became easy cannon fodder for crossovers. And as easy cannon fodder for crossovers, the first few days of school were chaos.
"Why the hell do we have to get sorted, anyway?" complained a red-haired, red-eyed sorceress, crossing her arms over her nonexistent chest and growling to herself.
"You just HAD to pick her up, didn't you?"
"I enjoy making her life more ... interesting."
"Right. I think you've got a crush."
"If you call the desire to string her up by her toes and let vultures peck out her eyes, then yes, I have a crush."
"Bitter much?"
"I'm EVIL. It's what I DO."
"Oh right. I keep forgetting."
"You and the rest of the fanfiction world."
"Been hacking into my laptop again, I see."
"If I see one more Xellos/Zelgadis lemon pairing, I'm going to vomit."
"Uh, what *is* sorting, anyway?" her companion replied, scratching at his long, blonde head.
"I dunno, but I don't want any part in it unless there's some food involved," she responded.
"Food?!" Instantly there was a short, blonde, pigtailed girl at her side, searching through her bookbag for evidence of such.
"Silence in the Great Hall!" An old man with both beard and hair trailing to the floor made a gentle attempt at controlling the chaos. "First years line up at the-"
He was interrupted and pushed roughly into a chair by everyone's favorite kinky leather gothboy. "*I'm* the owner of this particular school, thankyouverymuch."
"L-sama, could you get Squall any MORE out of character?"
"Were you not paying attention when I told you we were TRYING to make it suck?"
"I keep forgetting. Proceed."
Squall stood up on a table, ready to make a speech introducing the students to their new environment, explaining the sorting ceremony (which didn't actually MEAN anything, it was mostly just for shits and giggles), and handing out class schedules ... but then he remembered that he was the source of angst in the fiction, and stepped back off the table with only a cursory, "...whatever" to explain why he'd even jumped on it in the first place.
At any rate, a brilliant plot device managed to control the chaos, sort the students (Sephiroth and Kuja were delighted to be in Slytherin together, and shared a particularly long snog in celebration), and move the story forward into classtime, which is really the best (worst?) part of this story.
"Why are Kuja and Sephiroth making out?"
"Because every fanfiction needs some gratuitous yaoi action."
"But you don't like that coupling."
"Whoever said they were a couple? That was just to draw in the yaoi fans."
"You are truly a genius."
"I know it."
"Proceed."
Quistis Trepe strode into her classroom in her usual pinky-peach attire, whip close at hand (just in case Squall and his kinky leather pants decided to stroll by). Taking a seat at her desk, she surveyed the students carefully, then pulled the roll-call sheet out of her briefcase and began to read off names.
"Zidane Tribal?"
"Right here, sweetcheeks." A long monkey tail emerging from the boy's butt waved at her, then engaged itself in obscene gestures.
Quistis decided to ignore him for the time being. "Aerith Gainsborough?"
"Aeris," the girl corrected politely.
"No one cares," she informed her. "You died."
"Oh. Right."
"Gourry Gabriev?"
"Here!" It was shouted around the computer key he was munching on.
"Legolas Greenleaf?"
A drop-dead-gorgeous elf boy raised his hand. "That's me."
"I have to warn you, our author hated 'Fellowship of the Ring,' hasn't read the books since middle school, and generally doesn't know a damn thing about you, so you'll likely end up being a tree-hugging, pot-smoking, dirty old hippy by the end of this fic."
"Groovy," he muttered around a joint that suddenly appeared in his mouth.
"Frodo Bagboy?"
"That isn't my last name."
"It isn't?"
"No."
"Oh, well, the author doesn't know anything about you either, so you'll end up being a dirty old hippy along with Legolas."
"S'cool," he replied, snatching the joint from Legolas and taking a long toke.
"Urd ... uh, Urd?"
"Yeah?" She had no top on and was obviously still right in the middle of her morning routine. She only had her hand raised because she was applying deodorant.
"No last name?"
"Nope."
"Ah. Going to get dressed anytime soon?"
"Wasn't planning on it."
"Ah." Sometimes, it was better not to ask. "Vash the Stampede?"
"MMPH!" He was choking on a donut.
"Buffy Summers?"
"Here." She was stabbing at him with a stick, trying to dislodge the offending breakfast food.
"Satine?"
She coughed violently into a handkerchief in response.
"Okay, I think those are the only characters who matter." About twenty other students grumbled loudly. "Well the rest of you are either non-playable characters, background characters, or cannon fodder. If we learned your names, we'd have to give you personalities."
There was a general murmur of agreement and no further protests were made.
"And seeing as this chapter only served to entertain the readers with the wide array of characters within one fic, class is now dismissed. Go make some witty hijinks as your homework."
"You're really bad at this, Blythiemecia-sama."
"I keep telling you, that's the point."
By Blythe (who is oh so proud of herself, as per usual ^^v)
CHAPTER 2
Once upon a time-
"Hey, you used that to start chapter one!"
"That's what makes it BAD, Xellos."
"Oh. Proceed."
Once upon a time, deep in the heart of the Centra continent, there was a school. Not just any school, of course, because that would make this fiction dull and boring and no one would read it-
"Who says we have readers now?"
"If you don't stop interrupting me, there aren't going to be any. And you're going to be missing a vital part of your anatomy."
"Ah. Proceed."
At any rate, the school was special. And not just because it could fly, shoot cannons, breed dinosaurs, and produce headmasters who wore kinky leather pants and fur. No, the school had become open to all who discovered it, to any student who wished to learn, any professor who wished to teach, any background character who wanted to blend into a different background.
As such, it became easy cannon fodder for crossovers. And as easy cannon fodder for crossovers, the first few days of school were chaos.
"Why the hell do we have to get sorted, anyway?" complained a red-haired, red-eyed sorceress, crossing her arms over her nonexistent chest and growling to herself.
"You just HAD to pick her up, didn't you?"
"I enjoy making her life more ... interesting."
"Right. I think you've got a crush."
"If you call the desire to string her up by her toes and let vultures peck out her eyes, then yes, I have a crush."
"Bitter much?"
"I'm EVIL. It's what I DO."
"Oh right. I keep forgetting."
"You and the rest of the fanfiction world."
"Been hacking into my laptop again, I see."
"If I see one more Xellos/Zelgadis lemon pairing, I'm going to vomit."
"Uh, what *is* sorting, anyway?" her companion replied, scratching at his long, blonde head.
"I dunno, but I don't want any part in it unless there's some food involved," she responded.
"Food?!" Instantly there was a short, blonde, pigtailed girl at her side, searching through her bookbag for evidence of such.
"Silence in the Great Hall!" An old man with both beard and hair trailing to the floor made a gentle attempt at controlling the chaos. "First years line up at the-"
He was interrupted and pushed roughly into a chair by everyone's favorite kinky leather gothboy. "*I'm* the owner of this particular school, thankyouverymuch."
"L-sama, could you get Squall any MORE out of character?"
"Were you not paying attention when I told you we were TRYING to make it suck?"
"I keep forgetting. Proceed."
Squall stood up on a table, ready to make a speech introducing the students to their new environment, explaining the sorting ceremony (which didn't actually MEAN anything, it was mostly just for shits and giggles), and handing out class schedules ... but then he remembered that he was the source of angst in the fiction, and stepped back off the table with only a cursory, "...whatever" to explain why he'd even jumped on it in the first place.
At any rate, a brilliant plot device managed to control the chaos, sort the students (Sephiroth and Kuja were delighted to be in Slytherin together, and shared a particularly long snog in celebration), and move the story forward into classtime, which is really the best (worst?) part of this story.
"Why are Kuja and Sephiroth making out?"
"Because every fanfiction needs some gratuitous yaoi action."
"But you don't like that coupling."
"Whoever said they were a couple? That was just to draw in the yaoi fans."
"You are truly a genius."
"I know it."
"Proceed."
Quistis Trepe strode into her classroom in her usual pinky-peach attire, whip close at hand (just in case Squall and his kinky leather pants decided to stroll by). Taking a seat at her desk, she surveyed the students carefully, then pulled the roll-call sheet out of her briefcase and began to read off names.
"Zidane Tribal?"
"Right here, sweetcheeks." A long monkey tail emerging from the boy's butt waved at her, then engaged itself in obscene gestures.
Quistis decided to ignore him for the time being. "Aerith Gainsborough?"
"Aeris," the girl corrected politely.
"No one cares," she informed her. "You died."
"Oh. Right."
"Gourry Gabriev?"
"Here!" It was shouted around the computer key he was munching on.
"Legolas Greenleaf?"
A drop-dead-gorgeous elf boy raised his hand. "That's me."
"I have to warn you, our author hated 'Fellowship of the Ring,' hasn't read the books since middle school, and generally doesn't know a damn thing about you, so you'll likely end up being a tree-hugging, pot-smoking, dirty old hippy by the end of this fic."
"Groovy," he muttered around a joint that suddenly appeared in his mouth.
"Frodo Bagboy?"
"That isn't my last name."
"It isn't?"
"No."
"Oh, well, the author doesn't know anything about you either, so you'll end up being a dirty old hippy along with Legolas."
"S'cool," he replied, snatching the joint from Legolas and taking a long toke.
"Urd ... uh, Urd?"
"Yeah?" She had no top on and was obviously still right in the middle of her morning routine. She only had her hand raised because she was applying deodorant.
"No last name?"
"Nope."
"Ah. Going to get dressed anytime soon?"
"Wasn't planning on it."
"Ah." Sometimes, it was better not to ask. "Vash the Stampede?"
"MMPH!" He was choking on a donut.
"Buffy Summers?"
"Here." She was stabbing at him with a stick, trying to dislodge the offending breakfast food.
"Satine?"
She coughed violently into a handkerchief in response.
"Okay, I think those are the only characters who matter." About twenty other students grumbled loudly. "Well the rest of you are either non-playable characters, background characters, or cannon fodder. If we learned your names, we'd have to give you personalities."
There was a general murmur of agreement and no further protests were made.
"And seeing as this chapter only served to entertain the readers with the wide array of characters within one fic, class is now dismissed. Go make some witty hijinks as your homework."
"You're really bad at this, Blythiemecia-sama."
"I keep telling you, that's the point."