Your Favorite Fictional Character - 10/5

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Brian
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Your Favorite Fictional Character - 10/5

Postby Brian » Tue Oct 05, 2010 6:15 am


Brian
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Your Favorite Fictional Character - 10/5

Postby Brian » Tue Oct 05, 2010 6:15 am

Write an episode where you and your favorite fictional character meet accidentally.

You can post your response (750 words or fewer) here.

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Re: Your Favorite Fictional Character - 10/5

Postby LittleEden » Tue Oct 05, 2010 3:06 pm

Three o'clock in the afternoon is my favorite time to be in a Texas honky-tonk. Dark and cool there is no place like it west of the Mississippi. I sat at the bar sipping my red beer, listening to Willie and the boys on the junk-box.

The bartender put a fresh drink in front of me. I had not ordered it. My eyes questioned him, "Who?"

He nodded to the far corner. A lone figure sat in the shadows. The neon beer sign over his head gave off enough light for me to tell I did not know him. It is a principal of mine not to accept drinks from strangers. I pushed the drink to the side and told the bar tender to give the stranger my regrets. He slung his bar towel over his shoulder and walked over to him. That was that, and I would not have to deal with his unwanted attentions.

The bartender took his place behind the bar, and laid a business card on the bar. I looked at the name, held it up to the light for a better look. A smile crept across my face. "I want to order a drink for my new friend." He took a bottle of scotch from the top shelf, and poured it over ice; and put it on a serving tray.

I spoke up, "I'll take it to him." He was puzzled but he holds to the idea that the customer is always right. "Okay with me" and gave the tray to me.

I walked across the bare wood floor; aware the stranger's eyes never left me. By the time I reached his table, he should know all there is to know about me. The distance from the bar to his table seemed like it took forever; but finally I was standing in front of him. I laid a napkin on the table next to his empty glass, and put the scotch on rocks on it. I waited for him to say something. He looked up at me over his pipe; then motioned for me to sit across from him. We sat in silence for a few minutes.

Curiosity got the best of me, and I had to ask. "What brings Sherlock Homes to Texas and this honky-tonk? It does not fit the image I have of you." He took a long draw on his pipe before answering, "That's a long story." I did not hesitate, "That's okay; I got all night," and signaled to the bartender we wanted another round.

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Re: Your Favorite Fictional Character - 10/5

Postby Pamela_M » Wed Oct 06, 2010 1:44 am

The incessant rain was beginning to get on my nerves. This weekend had been planned as a relaxing getaway from the drudgery of daily life. My husband and I had it all chalked out - long walks through the lush countryside, enjoying the local food over a few drinks at the village inn and some cozy moments in front of a blazing fire in this quaint little house we had rented. What we had not bargained for was the unseasonal storms. It had come up all of a sudden the evening we had arrived and since then had imprisoned us within the confines of the house. While we did get the chance to catch up on a lot of intimate moments, we still yearned to go out exploring at least once.

It was the last day of our weekend and I had decided to cook a nice meal for my hubby. Soon we were tucking in into a sumptuous meal of Szechuan chicken and fried rice, chatting on frivolous topics. All of a sudden I became aware of a rushing sort of sound. My husband noticed it at the same time and we both looked towards the fireplace from where it seemed to be originating. Before our astonished eyes, the golden, dancing flames suddenly turned bright green and within seconds an obscure shape appeared in the fire, spinning madly like a top. The shape got larger and larger and suddenly a man fell out of the fireplace, landing on his fours on the hearth rug, coughing loudly. Struggling to control himself, he straightened up, giving us the chance to take in his black hair sticking up untidily at the back of his head, his round glasses and a lighting bolt scar on his forehead. He gave us a shamefaced smile and spoke the words I would have never expected to hear.

"Hello I am Harry Potter."

He was very cute, much cuter than Daniel Radcliffe who plays him in the movies. He seemed to realize instantly that he had committed some sort of social faux pas by dropping into our house without any warning and hastened to apologize.

"Sorry for the intrusion. I was on my way to visit my friends, the Weasleys, and entered your fireplace by mistake. Must have said the wrong name; I had meant to go to villa no. 13. Travelling by Floo powder is not so easy, don't you think?"

I recovered my power of speech with some difficulty.

"Ohh wow, no problem. You ended up at villa no. 30 actually. But its great to meet you. Surreal, you know. I mean, its you, Harry Potter, actually in flesh and blood. God, I am a terrible hostess. Please forgive me. What would you like, some tea or coffee or a cool drink? My God, its really, really you! And the Weasleys live here too? I just cant believe it. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!"

My husband's discreet, soft pinch made me realize I was blabbering. I clamped up immediately. Harry, meanwhile was surveying our thunderstruck faces with considerable puzzlement.

"Why are you so shocked to see me in flesh and blood? I mean you seem to know me, right?"

"Actually Mr. Potter", began my husband -

"Please call me Harry."

(He was so courteous!)

"Harry. Actually we have read about you in books but you know, we thought you were just a fictional character. I don't mean to offend you, really, I mean we are Muggles, aren't we? Not exactly aware of your world and all? My wife here is a huge fan of yours though, simply adores you."
My husband gave a self deprecating sort of laugh which died away at the look bewilderment, mixed with amusement, on Harry's face. And then suddenly our unexpected visitor burst out laughing.

"Well as long as I have violated the Statute of Secrecy, lets be friends. May I know who I have the honor of addressing?"

"I am Jim Parks and that's Bertha" my husband replied, shaking Harry's proffered hand.

"So Jim and Bertha, how would you like to join my family and me for dinner at my brother-in-law's place? My wife Ginny already there and I am supposed to be joining them soon. Ron and Hermione would love to have you folks there too. What do you think?"

My husband and I looked at each other for an instant and replied in unison.

"Can we go by Floo powder?"

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RE: Your Favorite Fictional Character - 10/5

Postby jbshelton » Wed Oct 06, 2010 3:11 pm

I shuddered as the fluorescent lights flickered over my head, and the floor shook beneath me. I usually enjoyed thunderstorms, but not at 2 o’clock in the morning.

When I’m at Wal-Mart.

Why I felt the need to actually get out of bed, get dressed, drive 14 miles to the 24-hour superstore to buy more cat food was beyond me. I usually bought my house supplies in bulk, and I knew very well that I had three unopened bags of Cat Chow in my laundry room.

But still, there I was, standing somewhere between cosmetics and lawn care in the middle of Wal-Mart, nearly alone.

There were a few others milling around aimlessly, probably insomniacs like me. Just trying to pass the time somewhere other than in their beds, where their alarm clocks seemingly blinked in their faces, rubbing in the fact that no matter how many sheep they counted, they would never fall asleep.

As I made my way past the appliances, then cans of paint, then bicycles, my mind wandered.

Should I buy a new toaster?

Is it time to re-paint my bedroom? Perhaps a sage green…

Maybe I need a new bike… and a helmet, and a water bottle…

Just as I was contemplating whether or not to color-coordinate my bicycle helmet with my sage green bedroom wall paint, I rounded the corner of the pet care aisle and ran smack into an ice block.

Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

I stayed on the ground, stunned, wondering why the hell there was an ice sculpture in the middle of all the pails of overpriced cat litter.

Then, it spoke. It actually apologized.

I am officially going mad, I thought. Not only can I not sleep, but now I’m imagining that random objects in Wal-Mart are knocking me down, and they happen to be sorry about it.

Just as my brain was about to run off the tracks with such thoughts, I finally opened my eyes and looked up.

Holy Hell, I thought. It’s Edward Cullen.

Yes, the slightly brooding, but very romantic and glistening vampire hero from the Twilight series.

I blinked. Three times.

He looked slightly concerned, but also amused.

“Here,” he said quietly, reaching out for my hand. “Let me help you.”

I couldn’t move. I just stared at him. It was like I had just come face-to-face with Brad Pitt. Or some other highly attractive, REAL person. With a heartbeat.

But no, instead I was about to have a conversation with a fictional vampire, who happened to already be taken.

And the first words out of my mouth weren’t, “How’s the family?” or “Still on that vegetarian diet?” Oh no.

Instead, I blurted out, “Are you and Bella still together?”

Yes, there I was, at Wal-Mart in the middle of the night, asking an imaginary vampire about his relationship status.

He sat down next to me, pushing his shopping cart out of the way. I couldn’t help but glance to see what a vampire shopped for at Wal-Mart. The usual… soap, cleaning supplies, socks.

Edward was laughing at me.

“Yes,” he answered, stretching his legs out in front of him. “She went to go visit her mom in Florida.”

Damn, I thought.

And all of the sudden, yours truly transformed from usually introverted and quiet to talking a mile-a-minute.
I asked Edward everything about his life, his family, his future. I told him he was gorgeous. I told him if he and Bella ever broke up, he should call me.

He listened intently, and answered all of my questions politely.

After about a half hour, the rain slowed and the lights brightened. The storm had passed.

“Well,” Edward said, standing. “It was lovely to meet you.”

I stayed where I was. “You too,” I said.

As he started to walk away, I thought of one more question.

“Wait,” I called. “Why are you in pet care?”

He stopped and turned around.

“Damn,” he said. “I always forget about that damn cat.”

Then, without another word, he grabbed a bag of cat food and disappeared around the corner.

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RE: Your Favorite Fictional Character - 10/5

Postby mammamia1803 » Wed Oct 06, 2010 3:12 pm

"What can I get you?"

"Ooh, I'll have a butterbeer, please!"

"Coming right up," the bartender said exhaustively, pouring me a glass of the foamy, golden drink. He handed it to me surly. I accepted it with great pleasure and sat down at a stool to drink it.

Only a few gulps later, I looked up to find a strangely familiar face staring down into his pumpkin juice, stirring it with a coffee straw slowly and sadly. At first, I only barely noticed him, but after my brain registered what I saw, I did a double-take.

I licked the whipped topping from my beverage off of my lips and began to speak. "Um, I'm sorry, do I know you?" I asked gingerly.

The man looked up. "No, I'm afraid not."

"Yes, yes I do! Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're--you're Professor Lupin!" I said enthusiastically. The moment the words escaped my lips, I wanted to take them right back in. How ridiculous was that, proposing he was a fictional magical character?

As stupid as my question may have seemed, he aknowledged it with an unexpected answer. "So we have met, then. Strange. I don't think I remember you," he said, then paused for a moment. "Oh, but please, don't take that offensively! My wife probably just showed you photos or something...she does have a lot of friends...."

"No, sir, I've read about you. And seen you, in movies. But you're only portrayed in those. Do you know how publicized all this magic hoopla is? And now, to meet the real, flesh-and-blood Remus Lupin!"

I could've sworn Lupin nearly had a heart attack.

"Excuse me? No, no, child! That's preposterous! Positively...preposterous...." he said exasperatedly, finishing the sentence sounding unsure of himself.

"No, it's not! These books about you--well, really, about Harry Potter--are very successful. Nearly 450 million copies have been sold worldwide! And in many languages, too, there's Japanese, and Russian, and--" I spoke, interrupting myslef at the sight of Lupin's face turning redder by the moment. "Sir, what's going on? Are you a look-alike or something? Did they hire you for this theme park to go around, making people think there really is a Remus Lupin? Because there isn't. I know it."

Lupin (or at least possibly Lupin) seized me by the wrist and rushed me into the bathroom. He pushed into an empty stall hurriedly and sat me on the toilet lid.

"You do realize this is the womens' bathroom, ri--"

"Shh! We mustn't be heard...." Suddenly, Lupin drew his wand from the inside of his boot and cast an enchantment over the bathroom, creating some kind of sound-blocking device in between our stall and the others. "Listen, those books were never meant to be published. A crazy person escaped from St. Mungo's and completed a 7-book installment on one of the most important wizards of all time. Do you know how terrible that is? The wizarding world is lucky that barely anyone believes a word in those books."

"And why are you telling me this?"

Lupin put his hand on his chin and thought for a moment. "It just seemed...right. There was something about you that made me want to tell you about why I was in your presence. No one else really notices...no one else puts together the drawings in the books to me in real life."

"Good to know. Now, why are you here? This is a Muggles' theme park."

"It isn't a theme park! It's the real Hogsmeade...and now, suddenly, there's a lot more explaining to do." Lupin heaved a sigh. "The wizarding world was in need of some more money. They gathered some fairly powerful wizards to work a little magic--literally--and transport Hogsmeade into an empty area of Universal. We found a Squib who would take the money earned from the theme park and give us galleons for it, and thus, it helps with the economy. Whenever anyone sees a Harry Potter or Hermione Granger look alike, they either pass it off as a coincidence or as someone dressing as that character. I suppose the books ironically helped us by allowing Muggles to come to Hogsmeade and assume it's a theme park based on the series, after all."

"Complicated."

"Very, oh, very complicated."

"Well, what now?"

"Don't tell anyone else, that's for sure."

"Can you take me to the rest of the wizarding world?"

"No."

"Oh, well, that's dissapointing. But at least I get the best of it, right here in the real Hogsmeade! Exciting!"

"Yeah, now I've got to get back home to my wife. She's expecting me. Thanks, I guess. Thanks for recognizing me. See you around?"

"If I recognize you, of course," I said jokingly.

With that, Lupin disapparated.

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RE: Your Favorite Fictional Character - 10/5

Postby TwainsKin » Wed Oct 06, 2010 11:47 pm

As the fog lifted, I blinked twice, rubbed my eyes, then blinked again. It couldn't be! He was just a fictional character - wasn't he? "Clark? Clark Kent.. but.. how?" "Hello", came the tentative reply. "But how do you know my name? Have we met somewhere before?" "Not exactly, but I do know who you are. I still can't believe this is happening!" I looked at him incredulously; here he was.. in the flesh! "You must be mistaken", the tall, stoic, quiet man replied. "You've probably seen my name and photo in the newspaper I work for, The Daily Planet." He appeared to relax a bit. "No, I have read about you in books and seen you in movies. I've been a big fan for years," I said, wide-eyed and awestruck. It wasn't every day one had Superman in their midst!

Kent eyed me suspiciously. "I seem to be at a disadvantage. I've never met you; I have a very good memory for names and faces. A reporter has to have that ability. I'm curious, however. Who put you up to this? Is this a practical joke set up by Lois Lane or Jimmy Olsen?" "No, Superman, this is no joke, unless it's a joke on me." The shock on his face was unmistakable.

How the hell could you know my secret identity? I've never told anyone, not even my friends. You'd better spit it out fast, or you'll live to regret it!" "Easy, Mr. Kent, your secret is safe with me. It must have something to do with that mysterious fog you stepped out of. As far as I knew, until today you were just a popular fictional character in a TV show from the 1950's in movies and comic books."

"1950's? What year is this? Something's not quite right here. This is the year 1957, isn't it?" the bemused superhero replied. "1957??" I stammered. "No, not even close. This is 2010." "This must have been Lex Luthor's work", Kent said thoughtfully. Where am I? These surroundings aren't at all familiar." "You're in Dallas, Clark. I don't know how to tell you this, but Metropolis isn't even a real city!" "Wha? You're kidding. I've lived there for years. I don't know what's going on, but I've got to get home. If only.." Just then, the strange fog returned. I looked over just in time to watch the shadowy male figure dissolve into the strange mist. I blinked once more, rubbing my eyes in disbelief. Gone! Was it all just a dream?

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RE: Your Favorite Fictional Character - 10/5

Postby Pamela_M » Thu Oct 07, 2010 12:16 am

nice one :)

Kairann
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Re: Your Favorite Fictional Character - 10/5

Postby Kairann » Thu Oct 07, 2010 6:30 am

I wish the earth would just open up and swallow me whole.

Heaven knows how my friend was able to convince me to substitute for her in her job as a mascot. Long story short, it's the middle of a beautiful day and here I am in the middle of the amusement park inside a stupid Sunny the Sunflower suit, hot, hungry, and pissed. Stupid fair. I was already heading to the staff room to cease this silliness when I felt two strong arms wrap around me.

"Ms. Podsolnechnik! Become one with me, da?" cried a childish, playful voice. Judging from the sudden coldness and happy warmth that permeated the atmosphere at the same time, I already had a hunch who it was, but still I turned around to make sure who the guy hugging me really was. My head exploded when I realized I was right.

It was Ivan Braginski, smiling at me with his crooked innocent smile.

My world spun. Blood rushed to my head and threatened to burst out my nose. Had I been a real sunflower, I would have already wilted in his arms. I had to say something, anything. I was about to open my mouth when I heard Wang Yao talk.

"Ivan! How dare you leave us all at the meeting aru!"

"Zat's right. It's unfair for ze rest of us to sit in Alfred's self-powered meetings while you frolic under ze sun, non?" Francis Bonnefoy added.

"For once, I agree with you. My bloody arse was aching from sitting while that twat just prattled on about 'hero this' and 'hero that'" Arthur Kirkland agreed.

"Hey, mmfmmf, i heard all, mmf, that! armff" Alfred Jones came running after quickly purchasing hamburger from a nearby stand.

While the five were arguing, there was only one mantra on my mind: Oh my God, the Allies are here. Oh my God, the Allies are here. Oh my God, the Allies are here. Oh my God, the Allies are here. Oh my God, the Allies are here...

This wasn't a stupid fair. This was fangirl heaven.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-

Author's notes:
I hope it's okay to meet more than one character. Given the chance and writing capability (which is nearly non-existent at the time I typed this [it's 12 midnight here and I have classes at 6:30 am, oh my god]), I would have met more than 40.

For those who probably couldn't relate:
The characters are from Axis Powers Hetalia, where countries are represented by people.
Ivan Braginski - Russia
Wang Yao - China
Francis Bonnefoy - France
Arthur Kirkland - England
Alfred Jones - America

Those five make up the Allied Powers.

To make a long note short, this series is seriously my number one addiction right now. Sorry for all the in-jokes and fangirlishness. (^^)V

Edit:
Also, podsolnechnik is Russian for "sunflower"

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RE: Your Favorite Fictional Character - 10/5

Postby Lakesideman » Fri Oct 08, 2010 10:14 am

The heat seemed to come up from the very ground itself, ensnaring every earthbound thing in its clutches. The wood fins of the brass plated ceiling fans circled lazily in the late afternoon light throwing crazy shadows on the far wall of the Grand Hotel’s lobby.

The Grand was not so much anymore and upon looking around I ventured to guess it probably was not all that grand the day it had opened. It was however, the only place to stay in Maycomb which made it the place to be…grand or otherwise.

I had not been back here since before the war when I was much too young to remember anything of it. Now I had come back to execute the last will and testament of my great aunt Louisa. Having passed the bar a mere six months ago, this would be my first workings as a professional lawyer, even if it was pro-bono because it was family.

The bus to Mobile did not leave for another two hours but my business in town was wrapped up so I waited in the lobby of the Grand, clutching the beveled neck of my sweating bottle of Coca-Cola.

The interminable wait was broken up by the entrance in the lobby of an elderly man. He appeared in his seventies or so, and though his face was weathered with age he walked with a firm upright gate of man infused with honor and integrity. His white cotton suit was perfectly pressed, a matching white hat cocked gently to the left side of his head. He seemed impervious to the heat as he strolled up to the counter to make an inquiry of the front desk clerk.

“No it has not arrived yet,” the clerk shook his head rapidly, not happy at all about having to disappoint the man. “As soon as I see it though Mr. Finch, I will have someone run it straight over to your house to save you a trip.”

The elderly man gave his thanks to the clerk and tipped his hat in stately fashion before turning to leave. That is when it suddenly hit me, the idle comment of the clerk opening the back of my mind like the tumblers on a safe lock. I sprang from my dusty chair and moved to intercept the man before he had a chance to leave. As I approached him I suddenly wished that I did not look so weather-worn.

“Excuse me,” I said pulling up in front of the man. “Are you Mr. Finch?”

“Yes I am.”

“Mr. Atticus Finch,” I repeated. Once more he nodded in the affirmative. “I am Cornell Goodsen,” I said as I extended my hand to him. “I am the great nephew of Louisa Tompkins; I am here in town regarding her will.”

He shook my hand warmly and expressed his condolences over my loss. “She was a kind soul,” he said in genuine empathy.

“I am very pleased to me you,” I said while giving him his hand back. “Reading about your handling of the Robinson case is one of the reasons I decided to study the law.”

“If my memory serves me correctly, I believe I lost that one.” He winked at me.

“May I impose on you for any advice you may have for someone just starting out in the field as I am?”

He tilted his head up and looked at me with his deep blue eyes. “Always follow your heart,” he began, “always do what you think is right thing, and always make a good argument.”

Old Atticus chatted with me for a few more moments before leaving the lobby. He may forget me by dinner time but meeting his was an experience I will never forget.


As always feedback is certainly appreciated.

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