Here's an eclectic mix of series to tell a story with. After no small of poking and prodding...
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The Ero-Sennin | 84 |
In white letters above the windows and over the wing, the words The Faithful Pony's Flying Circus ended with the image of a little blue pegasus dashing with a rainbow streak behind it.
"Guess who?" A girl's voice said before a finger wiped the fog, revealing the grinning face a girl about the same age as the teen twins. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, with a pair of heart-shaped marks on her fair-skinned cheeks, she wore a dark green dress with a red devil-horn headband and a spider-shaped necklace as accessories. "It's me, Star!"
Star moved the laptop around and repositioned herself to reveal she was sitting on a bathroom sink. "I have some exciting news for you. Well, first, Marco got kidnapped, and I blew up a bunch of stuff, including my wand."
Star moved the laptop to her left hand so she could reach into the sink's drawer. "And I was super bummed because I thought I was never gonna get to do magic again, but then I got… my new wa-!"
She stopped, realizing she;d whipped out a brush with a piece of gum stuck on it. "Oh." Rapidly she swapped it out for a pink and gold scepter with wings sprouted from its head. The face of the wand sported a single bright gold star that half of was completely black. "My new wand!"
Almost as an afterthought, Star added. "Oh and Marco's okay. Say hi Marco!"
The camera's view became a blur, moving until it stopped on a light brown-skinned, brown-eyed young man with a beauty mark under his right eye, wrapped in a floral-print bath towel, pulling another around his head. Seeing the camera pointed at him, he lunged towards it. "Hey-!"
The camera went dark and the stream came to a sudden end.
Dipper Pines held the tablet out when it didn't come back on. "Wait, that's it? A week and a half of nothing and then less than a minute of stream."
His sister Mabel was of a different opinion. "Seeing Marco fresh out the shower was well worth the wait."
Dipper gave his sister a flat look. "Could you focus?"
Mabel smirked, giving him a wry look. "Whatever, you liked it."
"Yeah, and maybe the world won't come to a horrifying end," Dipper added.
Years ago, the two spent a summer with their Great Uncle in a remote, heavily forested, and off-beat town called Gravity Falls, Oregon. What would've been a boring summer for two kids straight out of the rich part of the Bay Area turned into supernatural, disturbing, and outright apocalyptic adventures to determine the fate of everything from pet pigs to the entire universe. It left an impression on the two that brought them to Los Angeles to spend a school year in the sprawling metropolis locked in an eternal summer.
Princess Star Butterfly, a magical girl from another world, had come to live among humans in their world–and was actively blogging her exploits in the town of Echo Creek in northern Los Angeles. Whereas most people dismissed the bright colors and magical explosions as Hollywood high technology special effects for a way overproduced web series, Dipper–well-experienced with the weird and paranormal–knew a supernatural anomaly when he saw it.
"On that note," Dipper said, "Did you see her wand? There was something definitely wrong with it, why was half of it black?"
"Well, it is her new wand." Mabel took an instant to think. "Oh, maybe it's an edgy new upgrade, to reflect the dark turn of Marco getting kidnapped."
"That's another thing that bothered me," Dipper said as he leaned back into his seat and watched a taxiing jumbo jet pass by. "Someone kidnapped Marco, and forced Star to blow up her wand? That doesn't sound like something the monsters they've been fighting could push her to do."
"She didn't seem too concerned about it, she did kinda just mention that Marco was fine like it wasn't a big thing."
Dipper's resolve to find out why only hardened. "These are just more questions to answer."
It was her last year of high school, and after grade school in Germany and both middle and high school in the south of France, she wanted to go out with a bang on her senior year: High School in the United States of America–specifically in beautiful Beverly Hills, where she would spend her days making friends, flirting shamelessly, and enjoying every summer-like day until graduation absorbing the American zeitgeist. It was going to be wonderful.
Giggling to herself, she looked ahead and wondered who she'd run into on her way out to her new home in the hills. This was the home of big Hollywood movies, after all, she was likely to see at least one or two famous people just here at the airport terminal.
Hearing German-tipped English, Mabel looked down at the small and round girl walking beside them. She lit up. "Hello! What can I do for you?"
"Are you… Mabel?" Misao asked. "The girl from YouTube with the guide to life?"
"Huh…?" Dipper looked at Misao, noticing right away her exotic looks. He escaped staring, looking between her and Mabel. "Uh…"
Mabel gasped. "Oh my gosh, yes! I'm Mabel, and I do have a guide to life on YouTube!"
Misao clapped her hands together, she hadn't even left the airport! "I love your series, it's so cute and funny!"
Dipper raised an eyebrow. Cute and funny wasn't something he'd call his sister's YouTube channel. Mabel shot for cute when she worked the camera, but it came off as weird, surreal, disturbing enough get her channel threatened with deletion twice, and once got them a visit from a concerned Piedmont Police Department.
"You really like it?" Mabel asked.
"Ja, my friends and I love it so much!"
Now it made sense. "German sense of humor."
"Hm, my host family was sending a driver, yes," Misao confirmed. Looking ahead, she saw a swarthy, handsome, broad shouldered man holding a sign with her name on it. "Ohh… I hope that's him~"
"I don't think it is," Dipper said, "Don't make eye contact, because I'm pretty sure that's Señor Senior Junior."
Misao performed a discrete doubletake with disbelief. "Wait–the supervillain?"
Mabel looked ahead at the chauffeur's face, and a blush broke out across hers. "Oh man, I'd let him kidnap me anyday."
For the life of him, Dipper couldn't even imagine why the son of a world renowned thief and general menace was here trying to pick up a random German girl. He was, however, thankful that his preoccupation with the strange and unknown made it easy to spot him. "Just keep walking, pretend you don't see him."
"Mmhm, I know what to do in these situations," Misao assured Dipper, though she was a little impressed with his decisive manner.
The "chauffeur" smiled when he saw his mark, talking with two other pretty tall kids, and held his sign a little higher. He held it higher still as they walked closer to him without her noticing.
"Excuse me, Miss Darlian?" He called after her with an obvious Spanish accent and whiny inflection that implied a distinct passiveness. "I am your chauffeur? To be bringing you to your host family…?"
The three pointedly ignored him and kept walking.
"Miss Darlian?" He stopped. "Did she even notice me?"
The pale black-haired woman brushed past him, and he stepped back. "Take a powder, I'll get her."
Dipper glanced at his sister. "Mabel? Look behind us, are we being followed?"
Mabel gave a quick discreet look back, and sure enough saw the black-haired woman in green and black walking towards them–her eyes hidden behind a pair of visor sunglasses. She looked forward, a little pale. "… Dipper, I think that's Shego."
"Grandpa Shermie!" Dipper hurried to the passenger side of the SUV and opened the back door. "We need to go!"
"Dipper, Mabel, what's the hurry?"
"No time! We gotta go, a hot scary lady's after us!" Mabel ushered Misao around the SUV and into the backseat, then climbed in herself. "I love your tie!"
Dipper scrambled into the SUV and ducked down, and Shermie looked down at him. "Oy gevalt, you're just getting into LA and you already got a shiksa tailing you?"
He looked back at the terminal doors, when Shego stormed out of the Terminal and sharply scanned the area. Shermie's expression hardened and he pulled himself back inside of the car. "On second thought… probably not your type."
The woman did a double-take after the fleeing SUV and frowned. "Shoot, was that them?"
The chauffeur spilled out of the terminal and looked in the direction she went. Removing his fancy billet, Señor Senior Junior heaved a defeated sigh. "What just happened? Did they see through our disguises?"
The legendary henchwoman herself, Shego, pulled off her visor and scowled. "There's no way they didn't notice us. One of them must've recognized you… which I'm not even sure how."
Junior pulled at his collar and looked away, but Shego noticed it. "All right. Have you been posting selfies again?"
Junior was appalled by the insinuation. "No! I'll have you know, father had me banned from most social media."
Shego stopped, impressed by the prudence. "Oh… then why the nervous look?"
"I still have a Linkedin I use to post headshots…?" Junior admitted sheepishly.
Shego palmed her face and heaved an annoyed groan. "Of course."
Junior rubbed his sharp chin. "There's still a chance. After all, a good villain has a good contingency, right?"
Shego smiled and lightly punched his shoulder. "Just like I taught you. So, what's the plan?"
"We wait; maybe do a few small time burglaries of jewelry stores on Rodeo to keep us from getting bored, and keep an eye on the internet. A girl like her? She can't stay away from it for long."
Shego smiled, and let out a dark, silky laugh. "It is always a breath of fresh air working with you, SSJ."
I'm glad you asked!So what timeframe does this crossover take place in during the separate shows runs?
My main aim is to tell a story about solving mysteries and fighting monsters, while friendships (and more) develop within and throughout the core cast.So what aspects are you looking to focus on this story to keep it interesting?
This video is for educational purposes on the "what to do"and "what not to do" of making a show.
Trust me, I know as much as anyone on what to do and what not to do. However I'm definitely going to give the guy a listen to so I can keep up this story to a readable standard. Rest assured, these three stories are not being combined for no reason. They're all connected, and those connections are going to have big consequences for both Mewni AND Earth.
In the meantime, here's another chapter.
= - = 5 = - =
|The Princess and The Safe Kid|
Marco Diaz knew what he was signed up for within the first five minutes of meeting Star Butterfly. He wasn't on board with it until five hours later when he got to maul a bunch of monsters alongside her in a convenience store parking lot. After that, spending every other day fighting the forces of evil, guiding and hanging out with Star in his world, and going on adventures into hers was pretty much the best.
At least it was until that lawyer lizard guy showed up.
Toffee, that's what his name was. He wasn't sure about where he came from or what his deal was, but he wanted to destroy Star's wand and he almost got her to do it.
Well, he did get her to do it… but the only thing that happened was that he got destroyed with it and Star got her magic wand back.
It came back wrong, though, which was why he and Star spent a precious Saturday morning cleaning off green glitter gunk off every inch of Star's bedroom–a magically conjured tower that stuck out haphazardly from the side of the Diaz family's A-Frame style home.
After getting examined by the living embodiment of Star's Book of Spells and given a poor bill of health, the wand had gone off and splattered her room and everything in it.
"Hey Star, if your wand's actually broken don't you think you should get it fixed?" Marco asked, sweeping the last of the magical goop into a portal carved into the middle of Star's floor. He was wearing his favorite red hoodie and brown skinny jeans, but with the addition of an apron and a face mask to avoid breathing in strange fumes.
Star was on the other side of the hole in the floor, pushing more of the green mess into it with a broom. "Well, Glossaryck wasn't too worried about it. He said it was just broken."
Marco wasn't sure about the assurance from the little man in the book, which was sitting on her bed undisturbed at the moment. "That guy is obtuse and speaks in metaphors; you think he might be low-balling the problem because it's some kind of test?"
Star pushed the last of the mess her wand made all over her room into the portal. "Pshaw, speaks in 'metaphors'. Really, Marco? He only speaks English and Mewnman."
Did Star know what a metaphor was? Thinking about it and knowing Star, he realized that was a silly question with an obvious answer. "We should at least go to Quest Buy to see if we can get it repaired? Mage Squad might know how to fix it."
"It's fine," Star insisted.
She held the wand aloft. "Watch! Radiant Shadow Transform!"
Marco yelped. "Star wait-!"
In a flash Marco transformed. His hoodie and skinny jeans flashed into a lovely and poofy violet ball gown, his brown hair sprang out in great volume until it reached his waist length even tied into a ponytail, and his face was touched with the faintest enchantments leaving him strikingly beautiful, a true princess.
Princess Marco looked down at himself. "Princess Marco-?! Star!"
"See? The wand still works!" Star tossed it to herself in victory, and in a rare moment of clumsiness missed the catch, causing her to scramble to secure it. "Whoa, oh no!"
Marco folded his arms. "Okay, but can you change me back?"
Star aimed the wand at her face. "Watch."
In a flash of light, Marco was still Princess Marco, but also a centaur, the lower half of his dress now filled out over a horse's body.
"I am so sorry," Star prefaced everything that was about to happen.
Marco sighed. "It's fine, try again."
Star aimed the wand again, and transformed Marco into Princess Marco, but now a tiny butterfly.
"I was wrong! This is weird! Too weird!" Marco shrieked in a small, high pitched voice as he fluttered around with big, pretty purple wings.
"Uh…! Hang on! Hang on!" Star zapped Marco again into Princess Marco, but now a blob of purple slime in a matching dress.
"Try it again!" Marco gurgled.
Star did so, turning Marco into Princess Marco, but a large werewolf with brown fur, gnashing jaws lined with razor sharp teeth, and a large powerful physique tightly wrapped in a beautiful violet dress. He looked down at himself. "Wait, hold on, this one's kind of cool."
Star agreed. "Ooh, the She-Wolf of St. Olga's."
The wand went off on its own, turning Werewolf Princess Marco back to Princess Marco.
Princess Marco looked down at himself, then back at Star. "We need to get it fixed."
Star looked at the wand, huffed, and walked over to her bed and the Book of Spells. "If Glossaryck couldn't fix it, I don't think Mage Squad can."
Marco disagreed as he followed her. "I think he can, he just won't tell us how or why. All weird mentor guys are like that."
Sitting on the bed next to the book, Star flopped backward onto it and sighed. "Glossaryck, how do I fix my wand?"
From the book, a muffled voice replied. "To fix the wand and set magic free, the piece displaced must be cleaved."
"See? Obtuse and speaks in metaphors! But all we have to do is that, and we'll fix it."
Star looked up from her wand at Marco. "What does that even mean?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, but if I had to guess? Something that's missing needs to be cut in half."
"No, I mean, metaphors. What are those?"
Marco opened his mouth to answer, stopped, then sighed. "Metaphor, noun, a figure of speech in which a word or phrase is applied to an object or action to which it is not literally applicable."
Star worked that out in her head for about two and a half seconds. "Wait, that's it?"
"That is the literal definition." Marco headed for the door. "I'm going to change my clothes. I still want to go to the park."
Star brightened. "Meet you downstairs–and I will fix this!"
"Right, right…" Not two steps out into the hallway, Marco ran into his mother as she was bending down to drop off a basket full of his clothes fresh from the dryer. Angie Diaz had heard his voice as it opened.
"Marco, I just finished with your clean clothes for the-" She stopped and gave a bit of a start seeing her son dressed as such a lovely young woman. "Oh!"
Today was now perfect. "Uh… hi Mom?"
Angie looked Marco over, and uncertainty flashing over her gentle features.
He wasn't too concerned. It looked weird, but there was an entirely rational reason (relatively speaking) for this and this was not weird. "Look, I can explain…"
Angie held up her hand. "Marco, there is nothing you need to explain, it's all right."
She rested that hand on his poofy-dressed shoulder. "You look absolutely lovely, and if you need some advice about how to look or acclimate…"
Marco sighed. "Mom, it's fine, don't worry. Star just did a magic thing… it's not…"
Angie snatched her hand back. "Oh, I wasn't worried!"
"Are you sure? Because you seemed-"
"No, nonono, I just didn't expect to see you in a dress!"
Much quieter, she added: "Or that you'd be so beautiful…"
"What was that-?"
"Marco, clothes." She picked up the basket again and shoved it into his arms. Taking the hint, Marco stumbled into his room and bumped the door closed with his hip.
Standing there in the hallway, Angie quietly mulled over the unexpected encounter and came to a conclusion. Raphael and I should try for a girl…
@@@@@
"Are you sure you don't want me to try fixing it?" Star asked Marco. The two of them were on their way the short distance to Echo Creek Park from the Diaz home.
Back in another red hoodie and brown skinny jeans, Marco looked like himself again, though he was still breathtakingly beautiful and his hair remained in its long-flowing ponytail down his back. Despite this, he wasn't upset.
"We can do it after we know the wand will work. Besides, being Princess Marco is okay," Marco admitted before looking at his reflection in the window of a business. "You see this? I look great."
Star watched the air sparkle around Marco, and her eyes started to sparkle, too. "Oh yeahyeahyeahyeah."
She looked down at her wand. I've messed up spells before. So what if I can't change Marco back right now? I'll fix it later… if I can.
She closed her eyes. Stupid Glossaryck. How is it broken? How do I fix it?! What the heck do I have to cleave to set magic free?! Magic isn't even in a cage! Is it?
"When we get to the park, you can practice with your new wand." Marco's voice interrupted her thoughts. "That way, when we're sure it works…"
She lit up. "We'll change you back! Good idea, Marco."
"We'll just find a clear spot where it's safe…" Marco trailed off when he heard a distressing sound–like a horse crying at the top of its lungs, its voice pitching and cracking in weird ways as it hollered.
"What… what is that?"
"It sounds like Warnicorns fighting, or mating." Star paused for just a moment. "Honestly it's hard to tell what's happening even if you're there."
Marco did not want to visualize the reproductive habits of warnicorns. "Let's go find… it?"
They abruptly came upon it the second they reached the park's car lot. On the grass in front of an SUV that probably cost as much as the Diaz home, a curly-haired blonde kid their age was screaming and crying, pounding on the grass with one hand while clutching his cheek with the other.
Another kid, a little bit taller than Marco and more well built, was standing over him with an uncertain expression. Next to them both, their chauffeur had a stiff expression trying to not break into a satisfied smile.
Marco recognized the crying horse of a young man on the spot. Aw man, what's he doing here?
Brittney Wong, head of Echo Creek Academy's cheer squad and occasional pain in the throat, was an aggravating narcissist who ruthlessly judged people based on their wealth and popularity in relation to her own. That is to say, she treated him and everyone at the school like garbage and that they should be grateful for it. Brittney was an awful person, but Marco would happily be locked in a room with her for two weeks rather than deal with the tragedy of affluenza that was Trip Vanderhoff.
"On second thought, let's just go-" Star was already walking over to him. "Star!"
Trip, still neck deep in his hysterics, clawed and ripped the grass from the ground with his free hand. "WHO DOES THAT? WHO HITS PEOPLE LIKE THAT?! WHO DID THAT GUY THINK HE WAS?! I'M TRIP VANDERHOFF, MY DAD OWNS HALF THIS CITY!"
"Dude, chill…" Van said, before he noticed Star.
"HE CAN'T HIT ME! NOBODY HITS ME!"
Star leaned over him a bit. "Whoa, who hit you?".
Van quickly threw up his hands, in a desperate bid to wave Star back. "Hey, no! Get away from him!"
Trip looked up, and in his anger didn't register who he was talking to. "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME! I CAN BUY AND SELL YOU, YOU DUMB BIMBO!"
"Ooookay?" Star pulled back and leaned towards Marco. "Who is this strange horse boy?"
Marco didn't bother whispering back. "He's just another rich kid in LA with more money than sense, decency, and taste."
Trip stopped his braying and stared at the both of them. He was frozen in place by the vision in front of him. All of his pain and woes were forgotten the moment her face registered. Even the afternoon day seemed brighter.
Van was silent for a different reason. Trip had told off the magical princess from another dimension, and rightfully feared that she was going to invoke a thorny doom from beneath the crust of the Earth.
Fortunately for him, dooms thorny or otherwise weren't in the cards at all. Marco looked from Star to Trip and raised a hand in a reassuring gesture. "Look, sorry for walking in on whatever… this is, but we'll be going."
Trip took off his glasses, and began wiping his eyes. "No, no wait… I am so sorry you had to see me like this. I am usually much better composed…"
Van's mouth dropped open. "Uhh…?"
The struggling to not smile Chauffeur watched in silence.
Marco nonchalantly brushed it off. "It's okay, man, we all have bad days."
Star agreed. "And bad days can still have good endings! You just need to smile and look on the bright side! So get on up there, wipe away your tears, and seize the rest of your day!"
Marco hooked his arm in front of him in encouragement. "Exactly, do something that'll take your mind off it."
"Go play in the park, draw some rainbows…" Star raised a clenched fist. "Get revenge!"
Marco placed his hand over her fist and lowered it. "Turn it down just a notch."
"Oh… right…" Star looked aside and let out an awkward laugh.
Trip got up. "Thanks for the advice, I'm really sorry–again."
"Like I said, it's fine. Don't worry." He turned to Star. "I think we should go somewhere a little more isolated? The park might not be the best place to practice with your wand."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. So maybe we can try somewhere else?"
Marco thought about it. "I know, there's this old house up near the mountains. No one goes around there, come on."
He left and Star followed. She looked back at Trip, Van, and their Chauffeur and mouthed "Get revenge! All of the Revenge!" with a raised clenched fist.
"Star!" Marco had caught her.
Star looked back at him. "What?!"
Marco rolled his eyes, then called to Trip. "You got this, man, don't forget it!"
Trip watched them go, and he could hear gentle, romantic soft rock in the air in the wake of the radiance that traipsed into his life and out of it again. "Yeah… okay…"
Van was at a loss. Trip's tantrums were something only money could stop, after this one he was sure their Dad would be buying a new stealth fighter to calm him down.
He edged closer to his brother, watching Star and Marco leave with a doe-eyed look, and cleared his throat quietly. When he didn't respond, Van reached out and waved his hand in front of Trip's face.
"Trip, uh… bro?"
"Who was she…?"
Van followed Trip's gaze, before snapping back to his brother. "Who…? Dude, that was the magic chick. You know, Star Butterfly?"
Trip looked up at him like the man was a god damned moron. "I know who she is! Who was that other girl, the super hot Latina in the skinny jeans?!"
That warranted another double take, Van looking in the direction Marco and Star went. "Uh…"
"God, she was cuter than Heather. I've never seen her around before."
Van looked back. "I'm pretty sure that was the guy she lives with, Marcel or something."
Trip sneered in disgust. "Well you're wrong."
"But…"
Trip held his hand up in Van's face and closed his eyes to put a picture of Star's ever present companion in his mind. "Marcel is what… twice as heavy and has a unibrow? Doesn't speak much English?"
"He definitely-"
"Perhaps she's his sister?" Their driver interrupted.
Van looked at the black-suited old man. "He doesn't have a sister, Duncan… I think?"
"It's Dudley, sir," the chauffeur corrected.
"Whatever."
Not even the dull ache of his jaw bothered Trip now. "When I find out who she is, I'm definitely taking her to Homecoming."
Van's mouth fell open again. "… Wait, what about Heather?"
Trip huffed and tossed his shoulders in a shrug. "What about that bad investment? If that fat joke Andrew is Heather's type, I'll just go and rub it in her face when I show up with that goddess."
Space Unicorn~! Soaring through the Stars~!
Trip pulled his smartphone from his pocket and frowned when he saw the ID. He looked at his brother. "Why would Zoom Comics be calling me?"
Van shrugged his shoulders.
Dudley spoke up. "I believe it's because you left your comic book behind, Master Trip."
He had watched everything that happened in the store from outside, with the biggest smile on his face. It threatened to come back when Trip turned and violently swatted his brother upside his head. "You left the comic behind, you idiot!"
Van shrank back from the blow. "Hey, I was busy trying to back you up!"
"And a fat lot that did, doofus!" Trip lowered his hand, seething. "Great, now I have to go back there to Andrew, his dumb friends, and that Pine Tree…!"
Trip stopped. He just so happened to be looking in the direction of the Los Angeles mountains, the same direction Star and the skinny jeans girl went off in. Remembering what she had said about an old house, and what he knew about it, a grin spread slowly across his lips with the formulation of a plan.
"Seize the day, indeed," he said as he brought his ringing phone up and thumbed the Accept button.
= - = 5 = - =
Adventure awaits all those on a collision course with destiny.
Probably, for now, but I appreciate you being here and reading the story.What a beautiful crash and burn this will be for Trip. Also am I the only one who is talking on this thread ero-sennin?
There are reasons I haven't spoken up yet -- and the author knows them -- but I am nevertheless delighted that you're also reading this fic.What a beautiful crash and burn this will be for Trip. Also am I the only one who is talking on this thread ero-sennin?
What a beautiful crash and burn this will be for Trip. Also am I the only one who is talking on this thread ero-sennin?
So this is a Rick and Morty cross too?"Orders from up top; I'm just going through the list of everyone who is using some 'clever name nonsense' and informing them that they have to change their names within three weeks of this call."
Honestly, a Wikipedia scan is really all that you need. Big Bad Beetleborgs was a show with a whole bunch of elements that could be used to make something coherent, but the entire show was a wild mess aimed at the demographic just below whats Saban aimed for with the Power Rangers and VR Troopers. It's full of slapstick, pure 90s idiosyncrasy, and a belligerent resistance at anything resembling continuity or story telling. In this fic, expect almost every character to be faithful to the show but with various shades of aging up, character extrapolation, character development, reality ensuing and me turning that shit up to 111 as I am known for. Also, don't worry too much about the Kim Possible stuff, that's background flavor and world-building mortar (for now) but it will all be very relevant in due time. I'll give you a hint, we're in late season 3 for the show.So this is a Rick and Morty cross too?
Also... I know Gravity Falls well. I know Kim Possible, but it has dulled with time. I am passingly familiar with Star vs Forces of Evil. I read a paragraph of the wikipedia page of Big Bad Beetle Borgs.
With all that in mind, how lost should I expect to be as a reader? Like, who is the fun-sized girl they drag around places? Which show is she from?
That's basically the aim here. All you need is a bit of nostalgia, be it for Beetleborgs or for B-Fighter, and I will take you to your happy place.One of the lovely thing about this iteration of Beetleborgs, is that you can be drawn to the fic from faint nostalgia of having watched it on TV without actually remembering anything about it.
And then Sage gives us a better product with it than Saban did.
I think you just look for an Enigma machine online.
That's basically the aim here. All you need is a bit of nostalgia, be it for Beetleborgs or for B-Fighter, and I will take you to your happy place.
= - = 11 = - =
|The Price|
In a vacant lot clear on the other side of Echo Creek, three humanoid figures lay face down on the ground. A large green-caped creature that was a colorful mishmash of different body parts from humanoid alien creatures with a bony, ogre-like face set into the neck of a whale-shaped head. A scrawny mechanical man with white and gold plated skin wearing a labcoat, his "hair" a set of tubes ending in blue and green tips. Finally, a woman wearing a red and white mask covering her face, a billess peaked cap, and red armored cape over a matching tight leotard.
They were surrounded by enough empty beer bottles to kill a college fraternity with alcohol poisoning.
"Hey baby," the green caped monster, still face-down on the ground asked in a deep, funky voice, "Who stopped the party?"
The machine man in the white labcoat didn't even try to move. Speaking with a noticeable New York accent, he answered. "Don't bother me Typhus, I'm updatin'."
The woman with them groaned. Her thick Slavic accent tearing into the heads of her compatriots. "Why did I drink so much…? Why do I always drink so much?"
She was the first one to get up, and she brought her hand up to shield her face. "What is wrong with the sky? Why is it so bright… and not… screaming?"
The world around her registered, and she whipped her head back and forth. "Oh. Oh dear. Typhus! Noxic! Get up, get up!"
"I'm updatin'!" Noxic–the lab coat-wearing android–repeated, before a chime sounded. "Huh, it's done? Whoa… where'd this bandwidth come from?! This is amazing!"
He sat up, revealing a mechanical face with gold wired black goggles over his eyes. In spite of them, he could plainly see they weren't in what counted as Kansas for them anymore. "Whoaaa… how much did we drink?!"
Typhus got up and looked around. "Too much; this is weird, baby."
"It is not just weird, it is impossible! Everything is so… so… orderly!" The woman walked around the lot, turning around to take it all in. "The air, the ground, the sky! There is nothing in our world like this! Everything is so… so… consistent!"
Noxic jumped around. "Jara, check it out! This place has the most up to date Java, and I installed it in a microsecond! What is this miracle world of technology, huh?!"
The woman, Jara, placed her hands on her mask's porcelain cheeks. "I do not know, but I am already liking it much more than that old dump!"
Typhus sat on the ground, his grinding his underbitten teeth as he looked around. "How'd we get here?"
"Hey, you don't want that gift horse to bite you, now!" Noxic teased while doing a cartwheel. "Whoo-hoo!"
"C'mon, if this ain't the old place, then how'd we get to this new place?" Typhus threw up his hands. "It don't make sense."
"It. Doesn't."
All three stopped everything they were doing, and slowly looked towards the voice that spoke. Eloquent, calm, if a bit exasperated, it belonged to a creature in white, regal chitinous armor with a cape that was neither soft nor rigid. His white, polished face with black slits concealing slightly opened yellow eyes was adorned with a tall golden crown–not unlike a pope's mitre. He stood by a wall, in his hand holding a comic book, a recent issue of the Big Bad Beetleborgs.
"Aw man, Vexor's here too," Noxic groaned.
Vexor took his whining well. "Yes, I am here. Did you think you three would be so easily rid of me?"
"I had hope," Jara said.
"And now we don't," Noxic lamented.
"Regardless of your useless whimpering. I know where we are, and quite possibly how we got here."
Vexor walked towards him, moving one footstep at a time, but gliding over the ground… like gravity itself wasn't sure if it had a hold on him. "We have achieved what even the mightiest of us could not."
He held up the comic. Jara looked at the cover, and saw herself, face to face in combat against a red-armored creature she had no idea about. "That's me!"
"What? When did you get a comic book?!" Noxic snatched the book from Vexor, and flipped through it. "Hey, Typhus! Look at this, we're in it too!"
Typhus trundled over. "Hey, let me see!" He looked at the page with him and Noxic on it. "'Biolord Typhus', huh? Yeah, baby, I can dig it!"
Vexor swiped the book back from them, closing it. "We have left our decaying world completely, and we have an unlikely savior to thank for our emergence."
He turned the comic over and gestured to the barcode of the comic. There, next to the 2.99 price tag and above the lines of the code, was the comic's seal of authenticity: a black and white eye of providence.
All three stared at it. Jara trembled, Typhus growled, and Noxic crackled with electricity. All at once, they spoke a single word:
"HIM."
Vexor turned the book over to look at the barcode himself. "Quite."
Noxic shook his head. "Nooo… nonono… He's gone. The guys that came back from that big shindig in the rift said that He got disvaporaterized by the humans!"
"Yeah, and the walls have only gotten stronger since!" Jara added.
"He was unpredictable and chaotic in His brash wielding of power, but His cunning was second only to my own," Vexor gestured to himself in all his grand humility. "Even as He plotted one way out of our eternal nightmare, He had another, quite possibly many others, at His disposal."
He patted the comic. "And this one has borne fruit that we all can partake in."
Light shone from those black slits of his eyes. "Even greater. With Him well and truly dead… nothing stands in our way of conquering this universe for ourselves."
Jara, Noxic, and Typhus looked between each other, then back at Vexor. The white adorned demon spread his arms.
"At long last, the Magnavore Tribe needn't scurry in the shadows. Upon this reality, we ourselves will cast the shadows and watch the vermin cower within them!"
Noxic rubbed his metallic hands together, sparks popping from them. "Oh man, think about it! A whole universe of our own to conquer? That'll be the coolest!"
Typhus clenched a fist and laughed. "Ain't nobody gonna stand in our way."
Jara tapped on her mask's cheek with a finger. "Ah, it will be so nice to invite the girls over to party in a dimension that isn't slowly burning to the ground."
"Yet!" Noxic and Typhus said together, and the three laughed.
Vexor raised a single hand, silencing them. "Wait."
The white monstrosity looked around, like deer aware of a nearby predator. "That… do you feel that…?"
"Feel what?" Typhus asked.
"I am not one of your Dragon Ball Scouters, please elaborate," Jara said.
Noxic brought a hand to his goggles and pressed a button on them. "Yeah, that's me."
"There is something here… powerful and ancient…" His voice shook, like he'd once witnessed power like this before and never wanted to again.
Vexor went still and stared off into the distance.
"Uh… boss?" Typhus asked.
"JIWKR TMADW XJDIC YOCTJ RTFXT MOIYO BIUZV AOWDM QGZJL GKPOY RYPOM YKJTU FGCB!" Vexor screamed, in a scratchy, mechanical voice.
"Augh!" Jara's hands shot to her ears.
"Not cool, baby!" Typhus yelled, the top of his whale-shaped opening like a mouth mouth and spewing a green, viscous fluid.
"SKEXP FZYSX RPCSQ ZEVWE BFSGT YMFTQ IRPVA BFDJS ZCNHB RBHC!"
Even Noxic was affected. "C'mon boss, you crashed my auditory!"
Like an old disk drive repurposed to make music, Vexor's laugh came out in a long, slow electronic whine. Then, the demon collapsed onto his knees, his fingers clawing at the ground. In a raspy, elderly voice, Vexor spoke. "It's here!"
"What's here?!" Jara asked as her hearing returned. "And what was that?!"
"An ancient power, vast and deep, it stands to threaten my radiance…!" Vexor rose to his feed with difficulty, his body shuddering with every movement. "And it is close! I command you three to find it!"
"Wait, you mean now?!" Jara asked.
Typhus groaned. "Ease up, I'm still hungover, baby!"
"NOW!" Vexor roared.
"And how are we supposed to find something that we cannot feel?!" Jara now demanded.
"Uhh… hey, guys? I can't hear what you're yakkin' about, but I'm detecting a huge power level that way!" Noxic pointed, in the direction Vexor sensed the presence.
"Let's get goin' then." Typhus shoved Noxic forward. "Move it'!"
"Yeesh! All right, all right! Let me get my sound system going!"
Jara looked back at Vexor. "What about you?"
Vexor shooed Jara away, while clutching his face with his other hand. "I will find a suitable lair for us! Now go, go! Make haste, find what that thing is!"
"Fine! Warn us next time you decide to have a freak out like that!" Rubbing her right ear, Jara stomped off after her compatriots, leaving Vexor to collapse back down to one knee.
"I was wrong. One thing stands in my way," he lamented.
He dug his clawed fingers into the dirt, and clenched his hand into a fist.
"One thing."
A sinister glee welled up in him, leaking from his chitinous lips as another electronic laugh.
"The only thing."
= - = 11 = - =
Hey, it's those guys. Wait... why do they know about that guy?
You too can decipher the various codices and backchatter with this handy dandy website.
This version here is somewhat modified compared to AO3, lots more characterization and internal thoughts.Oh heck I was just reading this fic on ao3 the other day. Can't wait to see where this goes.