It's about time (no pun intended) that I wrote a dedicated fanfic based on what might very well be my favourite video game of all time: Crash Twinsanity! At the time of writing, the twentieth anniversary of that game is less than a year away and I'm not gonna wait to commemorate such; this fanfic is long overdue as it is.
Please note that this is a standalone story that does not tie into any of my other Crash fanfics. To that end, you won't be seeing my prized Crash Bandicoot OC, Barista Garnet, in this fanfic - not even as a cameo. No, this is a Twinsanity-centric affair that will feature little more than the occasional cheeky reference to any Crash game(s) that released after 2004, if even that, for I want this story to hit as close to home for myself and my fellow Twinsanity veterans as possible.
Please enjoy.
A Friendship Written In Fur
Chapter 1
Three years ago. That was when it had all happened. All the craziness. Cybernetic ant drones jumping out of inter-dimensional portals. A school bus irresponsibly and idiotically tied to a blimp, or 'dirigible', if you wanted to be fancy about it. A journey across realities straight into the clutches of a cannibalistic monster. A challenging trek through a fortress teeming with rotating lasers, vanishing plasmic platforms, metallic spheres filled with 'Energon' energy and whatever else the so-called 'Evil Twins' had thrown at her and her entourage, which consisted of her big-headed scientist of an uncle and that dim-witted marsupial who couldn't even dress himself properly.
Yes, it had been quite the adventure - as well as somewhat of a misadventure - that she had gotten herself roped into back then, and it stirred a flurry of emotions in her as the memories came back to her yet again. Memories of thrills, mischief, awe, annoyance, abstract terror and everything in-between. She still had the small red gemstone that she had covertly pocketed whilst making her way through the treasure room at the heart of that death trap of a fortress, having made the octagonal ruby bauble into a pendant that she wore around her neck, tucked away inside the black t-shirt with a white skull insignia and several deliberate tears in the fabric that she currently wore in conjunction with her damaged dark grey shorts and black and grey striped socks that almost reached up to her knees as she lay there, stretched out on her bed in the guest room of the Iceberg Lab. It was technically more of a holding cell for prisoners, but her uncle had, in his own words, 'repurposed' it… by which he meant that he had put an old bed frame that he had bought at a garage sale in the small, windowless room, stuck a battered, moth-eaten mattress on it and called it a day. The girl who now inhabited the room (at least for the time being) had gradually added some personal touches to her assigned sleeping quarters, such as the posters on the walls that depicted rockstars and musicians who all bore a distinctly punk aesthetic, a small table directly adjacent to the bed that was somewhat haphazardly lined with make-up bottles and tubes, a few blueprints and schematics, and a cylindrical cup that held no more and no less than six pencils - two lead, four coloured red, green, blue and yellow respectively. A small mirror hung over the table, held in place by cheap putty that the girl had already been forced to reapply numerous times. A wooden chest that looked (and arguably smelled) like something straight out of a seafaring pirate's tall tale stood at the end of her bed, containing her spare sets of clothes. Altogether, it wasn't much… but it was the closest thing to home she'd known since she was a toddler, since before the… operation. The one that had been meant to make her more 'evil'.
Nina Cortex exhaled deeply as she gazed up at the dull, grey ceiling that complimented the dull, grey walls and the dull, grey floor, her arms resting at her sides. She flexed her fingers. Her cold, hard, angular fingers made from stainless steel of deepest black. She gently curled them inwards, keenly aware of how stiffly they bent, of how rigidly they moved, of how they weighed on her wrists, keenly aware of how they couldn't feel the linen fabric she rested upon, of how they couldn't feel anything. They were completely prosthetic. They held no warmth. They bore no pulse. They contained neither flesh nor blood. They were simply tools for her to use in place of the organic appendages she had once possessed, the ones that her dear uncle had decided she was unworthy of. The ones that he had replaced with intent and without her consent. That memory in particular was one that Nina dearly wished she could forget and move on from, but every time she dared to move her arms, she felt a firm reminder weighing on her wrists, to say nothing of how much her hands weighed on her heart.
Nina sat up slowly, her dark hair trailing down around her shoulders. She had removed the silver hair clip that usually kept her hair pinned back, having placed it on the bedside table, remembering too late that she didn't have a bedside table, resulting in the clip falling to the floor. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and gazed down at the hair accessory that lay at her feet, staring at it for several long seconds before bending down to pick it up, soon fastening it back into its usual place, where it kept her hair pinned back in a way that resulted in a short, almost boyish look complete with a spiked up section of hair towards the back of her head. She then reached under the bed, pulling her gothic combat boots out into view, soon sliding them onto each foot. Finally, she stood up, approached the desk and glanced at her reflection in the mirror, seeing a pair of gloomy, bitter eyes of piercing blue staring back at her from amidst a series of features that came together to create a look that was melancholy by nature at best and just plain ugly at worst. Her pale complexion of chalky blue, so pale that it was almost white. The two buck teeth that poked out from beneath her upper lip, regular brushing and flossing doing nothing to alleviate how much they stuck out like a sore thumb. The metallic, lower case letter 'n' emblazoned proudly - albeit in the loosest possible sense of the word - on her forehead, like some travesty of a tattoo, its metallic, almost blood red surface starting to dull from a lack of polish.
Nina sighed. She had long since resigned herself to how she looked. It wasn't like she could do much with her physical appearance, at least not without risking her uncle getting on her case. As if her facial features weren't… distinct enough, she had also undergone a considerable growth spurt in the last couple of years, becoming tall and lanky. She was at least a foot-and-a-half taller than her uncle and as skinny as a rake. She pursed her pale grey lips, taking note of the freckles that had developed on her cheeks since she had hit puberty. As a teenager of fifteen, she was, whether she wanted to admit it or not, somewhat self-conscious of her looks. Fortunately, she had a solution. Well, sort of. She had long since decided that if she was ugly, then she was going to lean into that and own it, if only for the sake of her self-esteem - what little of it she had left, anyway.
Nina picked up a tube of black eyeliner that rested atop her desk, uncapping it and holding the thin brush up to eye level. She hesitated for the briefest of moments… and then she set to work, soon adorning her eyes with dark make-up. She then applied a thick layer of glossy black lipstick to her grey lips. Finally, she picked up a container of clear car polish and went about sprucing up the 'n' on her forehead. Her work done, the self-proclaimed goth girl stood back to admire the results of her attempted glow up, even putting on a smile, quickly abandoning such when she saw that all it did was call attention to her buck teeth. She then tried a serious scowl instead, even pursing her lips and snarling at her reflection, raising one metallic hand and holding her fingers in a somewhat robotic imitation of monster claws, trying to look threatening. This seemed to satisfy her, a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth as she turned away from the mirror. She had always been something of an ugly duckling, but she had long since given up on the notion of ever becoming a beautiful swan and instead aspired to present herself as a sort of dark raven. The result was… well, it was about as good as it could be, all things considered.
Slinking out of her bedroom, Nina stepped onto the elevator that waited just outside. In truth, calling it an elevator was a bit generous, for in actuality, it was a grey and black octagonal platform that fitted neatly into the floor, the letter 'N' emblazoned on it in bright yellow right in the centre. There was a distinct click as the bionic goth girl took her place on the platform, the device starting to move, descending down through the floor with an odd, continuous warbling sound, the gravity-manipulating propulsion unit on its underside keeping it moving at a slow, steady pace. Nina wrapped her arms around her torso as she found herself outside, instantly regretting not putting on a jacket as the cold wind of the Iceberg Lab's frigid climate hit her like a ton of bricks, the slightly rickety elevator carrying her through an outdoor section of Doctor Neo Cortex's base of operations. She could see the mountainous iceberg that the metallic fortress was built around, the many platforms, walkways and mechanisms that made up the lab's exterior surrounding its frozen surface.
"Before you rises a cathedral of DIABOLICAL GENIUS! Scary, but in the wrong hands, this iceberg lair could do much… goodness in the world." That was what her uncle always said about this place. It was a sight, to be sure, especially from afar, but that didn't do anything to alleviate how cold it was on the premises. In fact, it wasn't uncommon for the sub-zero temperatures surrounding the Iceberg Lab to freeze the main entrance shut, forcing Cortex and his staff - which presently consisted mostly of trained penguins equipped with jetpacks - to take the long way around up to the control room. Nina had the advantage in that regard at present; rather than needing to hike up the mountain on foot, she had the benefit of having her bedroom positioned directly above the control room, meaning that one quick elevator ride took her straight to the centre of the lab's operations via a blast of freezing cold wind. Sure enough, before the cold could settle in beneath her thin t-shirt, Nina suddenly found herself surrounded by dull, grey metallic walls once again as the platform descended through the opening in the control room's ceiling, soon coming to a stop in the floor, right before a large swivel chair that currently faced away from her, positioned before a big radar screen complete with a very complex-looking keyboard.
"Yes, Grandma, I'm eating properly," Doctor Cortex could be heard saying, the self-proclaimed 'greatest evil scientist in the world' seated within the big green chair, apparently talking on the phone. "Yes, Grandma. Look, I… I've got to go!" On that note, he hung up before pressing a button on the intercom that was built into the keyboard before him and muttered something that sounded distinctly like, "Kill her." Nina's eyes widened slightly at that, but she quickly composed herself as the big green chair suddenly spun around, her uncle facing her with a warm smile. Well, warm, decidedly sinister - it was all relative in the evil profession, Nina supposed. "Nina! My adorable young niece!" the doctor greeted, his big yellow head almost looking too big for his body, which seemed almost as lanky as Nina's own. "My, my, you're getting bigger and sneakier by the day! Put 'er there, little lady."
Nina resisted the urge to sigh, roll her eyes or recoil from the only family she had left in well justified revulsion - the latter especially would land her in big trouble with her uncle, and she wasn't keen on losing anymore appendages or limbs today. She just held out her left hand for Cortex to shake without a word, the doctor's smile quickly fading to be replaced by a pained look.
"I… see they need some adjustment. Again," Cortex summarised with a strained grunt as he managed to wrench his gloved hand free. "Let me take a look," he went on, being a lot more tentative and cautious as he want about examining his niece's prosthetic appendages, which were specifically designed to prevent Nina from holding or embracing any small, cute animals without crushing them to death; those who walked the path of evil had no time for trivialities like growing attached to pets, which was why Neo Cortex himself had been forced to settle for a rock with googly eyes glued onto it as a pet growing up.
Nina said nothing as her uncle pulled out some plasma-powered tools and went about performing maintenance on her hands, averting her gaze as the welding tool generated a series of sparks, the device whining shrilly. She glanced up and almost jumped in surprise to see that Cortex was wearing a welding mask. She hadn't seen him put it on or where he'd gotten it from, and quite frankly, she was amazed that he had the common sense to wear one to begin with; for all of his big talk, her uncle had a tendency to make a lot of… questionable decisions as a scientist, even when he wasn't being blatantly and unapologetically immoral.
"There," Cortex said as he powered down the tool and lifted up his welding mask. "That should keep them in check for a while. Remember to lubricate your digits daily, my dear." He then looked thoughtful. "I should probably take my own advice in that regard; evilness knows I'm not getting any younger."
"Hmm," Nina murmured off-handedly, not really paying attention to what the doctor was saying, glancing over at the nearby door, which, like pretty much everything in the Iceberg Lab, was emblazoned with a big yellow 'N' insignia. An N. Signia? …No, perhaps not.
"Going out for a walk?" Cortex guessed, intuiting his niece's intent based on her body language; Nina was a girl of few words, having always been shy by nature - even more so after having her hands forcibly cut off. "Make sure to take a jacket, my dear. After all, it's snow picnic out there."
Nina forced a smile at her uncle's embarrassingly lame joke, made a quick return trip to her room, reemerging back into the control room a few minutes later garbed in a black down jacket with a white lowercase 'n' emblazoned on the upper left of the torso and clear, weatherproof stockings, the latter shielding the upper halves of her pale legs from the frigid climate she was about to make her way back out into. She stepped up to the bulky door on one side of the room, the big gear in its centre beginning to rotate at high speed in response to her approach, the 'N' insignia spinning around and around. After a moment of this, the door suddenly slid upward, revealing a set of dark grey double doors beyond it, which slotted together in what looked almost like a row of teeth in a mouth that had been turned on its side. These teeth-like doors slid apart, granting Nina access to what was essentially an air lock meant to keep the cold out, at the end of which was an identical series of doors. Once those opened for her, Nina stepped out onto the main lookout platform of the Iceberg Lab, beyond which Cortex's airship - sorry, his private dirigible - was moored, thankfully not tied to a school bus this time. Nina stepped onto another waiting elevator platform and soon found herself heading down towards the front entrance of the lab, stepping off the little docking bay that had been set up for the platform, her combat boots pressing against the soft snow, leaving a trail of footprints in her wake as she started forward, pulling the hood of her jacket up over her head as she went.
Nina often took walks around the base of Cortex's fortress to gather her thoughts… or to distract herself from such. Whichever was less taxing to her mental health on any given day. The cold wind, for as harsh as it was, proved to be a good distraction from… well, every little thing that gnawed away at her insides. Being 'home' from the Academy of Evil was a welcome change of pace, and it was probably doing her more good than she wanted to admit (and definitely more good than her uncle would approve of), but the thing was… this place wasn't her home.
Nina hated it here, and not because of the cold. She hated having to spend the better part of each year at that awful-by-design boarding school. She hated her uncle for what he'd done to her hands. She hated herself for… She just hated herself. She hated her life. She just… She just…
The bionic goth girl reached up and wiped her eyes as they started to well up with tears. She knew that crying wouldn't solve anything, wouldn't make her life any easier. She just had to endure it, else her uncle would probably do who-knows-what to her. She straightened up and trudged onward, determined to be as immovable as the great icy peak that towered above her.
Nina made her way down to the lowest part of the iceberg, mere inches above sea level. She liked being close to the ocean water. The salty tang of such did wonders for her sinuses, which she often had difficulty with, and the frigid climate wasn't doing her any favours in that regard, so she'd readily take all the relief she could get. It was as she approached the water's edge that the niece of Cortex saw something that made her stop dead.
A small boat was moored at the base of the iceberg. It didn't look like one of Cortex's. For one thing, it was made of wood and had a distinctly tribal look to it, with what looked like a small bamboo hut built onto the back half. Nina had heard that there was a native tribe over on the neighbouring N. Sanity Island, but why would any tribesmen come here? Were they hoping to catch some of the fish that thrived in the icy waters? There was no sign of any sort of fishing rod or net. Nina was just wondering if she ought to tell her uncle about this when a voice called out to her from within the boat's hut-like cabin.
"Psst! Come onto my boat, spooky girl. I can take you to the other place."
"Huh?" Nina was taken aback by the sudden, hushed offer. Just who was talking to her? Take her to the other place? What, N. Sanity Island? It was directly north of here; on a clear day, you could actually see it from the Iceberg Lab's upper sections.
Nina hesitated. She had to tell her uncle about this. That wasn't normal. This was suspicious at best. She then glanced behind her, gazing up at the Iceberg Lab. She was just mulling over how much she hated this place, and now she had a chance to get away from here, just like that. Should she take it? She'd regret it. She knew she'd regret it.
Then again, with all things considered, she'd most likely regret her decision either way.
With a bold, determined look in her eye, Nina leapt forward, jumping towards the boat. She cried out as she found herself falling rapidly towards the icy water, having overestimated her jumping ability. On instinct, she held out her right arm and took aim at the boat's cabin, her metal hand shooting forward on a retractable spring that extended from her wrist, her appendage acting as a sort of grappling hook. It latched onto the open doorway of the cabin, her steel fingers closing around the door frame, and she was suddenly rocketing towards it. She landed on the deck, the boat wobbling in response to the sudden shift in weight. The boat's mystery captain didn't sound bothered by the turbulence as they spoke up again.
"Next stop, N. Sanity Island! Anchors aweigh!" On that note, the boat suddenly started to drift away from the shoreline of the Iceberg Lab, and before Nina could fully process the consequences of her choice, they were off. With a sigh, Nina sat down upon the deck, gazing up at the mid-afternoon sky. She already regretted this.
And yet, something deep inside told her that her choice had been the lesser of two evils - literally, and something about that, something she couldn't quite put her metal finger on, was oddly, yet distinctly, reassuring.