The Same Compartment - orig. by magicwingsforeverThe Same Compartment
Originally written by magicwingsforever
Edited by Indiana
When they first met, James Potter and Sirius Black didn't expect to be lifelong friends. They were just two boys sitting on the Hogwarts Express, shoved into the same compartment by some rowdy fifth years. Each of them kept to himself, and it wasn’t until James spotted Sirius’s broomstick advertisement booklet, tossed carelessly onto the seat, that the two of them began talking.
"What team?" James asked enthusiastically, pointing at the Quidditch players clutching world-class brooms on the cover.
Sirius snorted, glancing at the booklet and then to James. "Chudley Cannons, of course. I just went to see them, they were bloody amazing! You?"
James stared at Sirius, his eyes wide in amazement. "Same, my dad loves to take me to their matches! Gonna try out for the house team?"
Just like that, the two were friends.
When James joined Sirius at the Gryffindor table, they grinned
Tips for Writing Good Fan FictionTips for Writing Good Fan FictionTips for Writing Good Fan Fiction in Writing More Like This
Hello! I’m Indy, or Indiana if you prefer the long version, and this is somewhat of a tutorial on what I look for, and find, in good fanfiction. I’ve been writing fanfic my whole life, and I’ve dabbled in many fandoms, most notably of which have been Sonic the Hedgehog and Portal. I’ll offer some insight as to how I write, as well as things I notice inexperienced writers tend to do. Before I start, I’d like to make a disclaimer that I am of course not an expert. Hopefully this is helpful to someone.
Understand Your Characters
This is a very important thing to do if you really want to do a good job. You can write a story without understanding them, of course, but the more deeply you know the character, the deeper the story is going to be. You want the story to be deep. You want the reader to lose themselves in the story, and if something jumps
Portal: Still Alive (Part One of Two)Portal: Still AlivePortal: Still Alive (Part One of Two) in General Fiction More Like This
Characters: GLaDOS, Chell
Setting: Post-Portal 2
Orange and Blue hadn’t come back.
They had been taking more and more time to do so, lately, but she could hardly blame them. They were getting old, after all. She had never expected them to last forever. The only reason she was still using them was that building more of them would have been stupid. Robots testing was not Science. Still, she had to make do with what she had. Other than the occasional human who wandered into Aperture, whom of which she would gleefully put through testing until their… usefulness… came to an end, she had no test subjects. No, robot testing was not Science, but she had earned commendation for trying. Even if the commendation was a personal commendation, from her to herself. Come to think of it, the only one who ever commended her was herself. Which was odd. Surel
Portal: Still Alive (Part Two of Two)The ceiling collapsed.Portal: Still Alive (Part Two of Two) in General Fiction More Like This
Panicked, not quite realizing what was happening even as it did, she fell to the floor, her fragile body shattering and sending loose parts on trajectories that she helplessly calculated in order to distract herself from the horrible pain shooting through her mind. Damn those scientists for doing that to her. Damn them for thinking pain was a suitable punishment for a computer. Damn them for building her. Damn everyone and everything. What was the point of being able to live forever if you couldn’t stop the world from letting you go?
The broken pieces stopped falling, and she ran out of trajectories and amperages and other things to calculate, and eventually the pain became so great that she put herself into sleep mode. Yes, she was afraid of not waking up. Yes, she was afraid that the timer no longer worked and she would be in suspension forever. But anything had to be better than this. Anything.
Portal: Sleep ModeSleep ModePortal: Sleep Mode in General Fiction More Like This
Some nights, not every night and certainly in no pattern that she could discern, she dreamed.
Sometimes, she dreamed she was a woman, middle-aged to elderly, she wasn’t sure which. She was wrapped in tensed wires that bound her arms to her knees, left her bow-shaped as she dangled by her ankles from the ceiling. She felt so helpless, felt such a powerful desire to move, which was thwarted by her bindings, that it felt like she was being torn apart. The ache in her body was almost unbearable, but that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst part was that she cried and cried, and called for help and mercy and for just plain company, but the little men in the booth ignored her and busied themselves with other things. And the longer she hung there, given the illusion of movement, the worse the drive to perform actions she could not became. An itch tore through her, an
Portal 2 - TomorrowOn her first working day, Caroline was overwhelmed with activity.Portal 2 - Tomorrow in General Fiction More Like This
Illusions had never been an habit of hers; all along, in between the internships and the extra courses, she had guessed. She knew way before crossing that doorstep as an employee, for the first of countless times to come — no previous experience in the world could have fully prepared her for Aperture Science.
The place was already enormous, yet not enough for its ambitions. She had to notice, with attentive eyes, the tiniest details that fell under her gaze. She followed the unraveling of a vast net — it was made of lies and truth, of balance and mistakes, so fragile that it could be torn anytime by a single breath.
The good impression she left behind at work could not spare her nerves. When she met the sight of her home in the evening, it felt as if whole years had passed — she was a different person, tired in an entirely different way.
She stared at the darkness, swimming in a tangle of thoughts. She
Portal 2 - ForeverIt’s such a shame the same will never happen to you.Portal 2 - Forever in Drama More Like This
Your life was born and nourished among lies. Unlike those humans, you never found a reason to complain.
And yet, eventually, it had to dawn on you. It reached for you in the slow walk of time, touching you when decay, subtle and steady, had already done its part; by then, there was no longer any sense in lying to yourself.
Dying twice could not prepare you for it. You were not ready when the panels stopped answering your call, when the walls started crumbling under your touch. You were even less when you lost count of time, and your internal clock was tired, so tired — you were not giving up, not even in a world where science and its makers meant nothing anymore.
Time had just washed them all away. You knew it; once the centuries would become too many to count, no matter how many, it would come for you too.
There was no stopping it. The thought dilutes the bitterness, especially now — now that you barely reme
Portal 2 - By ChellPotatoes always smell of earth, even long after they have been washed. Planting wires in the tawny skin reminds her of her orchard — laughter and warm breath, with her hands all dirty from digging them up, and then the sweet taste of dad’s excellent cooking. She is having fun. Science and home are her two favourite things.Portal 2 - By Chell in General Fiction More Like This
She does not think when the sirens start howling. She grabs the full vase she has brought along from her garden, and shoves it in. The battery has plenty of quiet time to take root.
The little water comes from a leak in a broken pipe. It falls with patience, drop after drop — while the gap widens over time, it still isn’t enough. The light is that of the emergency neons. Potatoes are the strongest, though.
Scientists in dirty lab coats visit once, dragging their feet, before they are caught and shoved back in the darkness. They seek shelter, maybe a little food and water, if that isn’t asking too much. But they last little; the lea
Portal 2 - PatienceCaroline is not calm at all.Portal 2 - Patience in General Fiction More Like This
She knew from the start it would happen, that it would never be otherwise. They asked first, pleaded later, threatened her in the end – she still cannot bring herself to do this, not on her own.
His voice rang clear enough then; but it was clearer there, in the great hall, when they nailed him forever to that mass of silk and wood. She recalled his words and dried her tears – there was nothing but his orders in her future.
She could not think of anything else. Cave Johnson's coffin was not just asking her to; it was neither a favour nor an imposition. It was much more than that.
Why would he do something so terrible to her? To a worker that had stayed by his side, survived, for so long? There was no meaning in that. No feelings, but no science either.
The corridors shine under her heels. She walks to her death wearing her usual attitude, as professional as possible.
Her cream-coloured dress has the same folds as ever; the red scarf shines
[Portal 2] Cara Mia - translation and meaningsSince my native language happens to be the same as Cara Mia's, and even though it has probably been done countless times, I thought I'd explain the lyrics a bit more in depth than usual, also giving a few interpretations.[Portal 2] Cara Mia - translation and meanings in Reviews & Guides More Like This
In an interview, Ellen McLain declared she made up the lyrics on the spot, in her somewhat shaky Italian — a knowledge naturally coming from her career as an opera singer. Well, she did a simple but excellent job. Let’s go explore it together.
Cara bel, cara mia bella
Dear (female adj.) beautiful (female adj., here probably used as a noun), my dear beautiful (same use as before).
Bel is an actually incorrect form for "beautiful", as the elision of the last part (bel-lo, male, or bel-la, female — my language has no neuter gender, and that’s a real nuisance…) is only used for the male gender, sometimes, when the noun starts with a consonant. When the noun is female and it starts with a vocal, we ha
Portal - Speak to MePortal - Speak to Me in General Fiction More Like This
All over the concrete wasteland, they tuned on one cadence.
It was the beating of their hearts, and the pulse of their fear — it tied the same string of destiny, trapping their feet and hands. It was a sound belonging to memories of a life that would no longer be,
the cascade of their laughter,
the daily tinkling of their coins,
the words whispered by a sanity that would soon be lost.
There was a world painted beyond Aperture, and it was slowly losing its pace to the loneliness. Geometry took over the memories, glimpses of faces and warmth, to repeat itself in its minds — it drew endless rows of the same image, of the same chambers, buttons and cubes.
They tested, no longer aware of touch and smell. They tried again, and fell on the floors like broken glass. Running on was their only option — until they’d collapse under the weight of their bodies, and the white light would overflow with colours.
She did not care about them. She recorded, studied, undid the fabri
Portal 2 - PrisonThe first time she regrets it is when she loses track of her steps.Portal 2 - Prison in General Fiction More Like This
When it is too late to hope for her death — the Central Turret Chamber does not start an ambush for nothing, it never did, especially on its own — she finds herself thinking of the swift legs and arms she has watched until a while ago, and feels too heavy under her own glass shelter.
She remembers the clumsy humans, starved and pale, tripping over their own jumpsuits. She knew they were a threat, but not this way — their bodies ever looked weak and fatigued. But she discovers now, in the growing anxiety that accompanies her moves, what exactly one with healthy limbs and a bit of willpower can do.
The images mingle with the others, even as she rambles. She dreams of moving about — she dreams of crushing her little neck in an iron fist, of knocking her unconscious, of running away — oranything but just being there, swinging, doing nothing. Such an easy target, so stupidly made impossible.
A Nasty Piece of Work - A complete guide to GLaDOSSo, here we are again, dear Portal fandom. Today I am here to bring you something nobody asked for — a good, long chat about our favourite sassmaster AI.A Nasty Piece of Work - A complete guide to GLaDOS in Reviews & Guides More Like This
If there is such a thing as fighting for a character's reputation in a fandom, that is what I have been doing for GLaDOS since the day I completed my first playthrough. She is one of the most misunderstood characters I know, if not the most misunderstood. What may the reason for that be?
Well, it is not hard to understand. Such is the fate of complex characters, aka those characters whose story and personality naturally include contradictions, doubts, morally grey areas. For audiences made by people like us, sadly used to clichés due to a ridiculous overexposure, it is just too easy to grab a character with so many layers and shove their whole existence in just one of them.
That is how supervillain!GLaDOS, offensively-clichéd-mental-illness!GLaDOS, omnipotent-evil-goddess!GLaDOS and many, many more were born. No
Portal 2 - Faith“Caroline.”Portal 2 - Faith in General Fiction More Like This
It is night, but she won’t leave. She hasn’t left in days, and forgotten what shifts are – her voice is still patient, still strong.
All he can offer is lamplight, darkness, heavy breathing. But who cares – who gives a damn, as long as she is there. They went past this ages ago. For him, at least – he wonders what it must be like for her, maybe for the first time.
“You know, I- I am going.”
He had never acknowledged this as a fact. She lets his hand grab hers, and the grip, if shaky, has not changed.
“Caroline… science matters. Please – ”
Her hand moves, mechanically, to the blister pack nearby. He waves in irritation, and she understands what was already obvious.
“- please promise me… stay… I believe-”
The light in his eyes is fastly going out; but hers widen, motionless. Humans need facts, not words – and yet, somehow, it almost felt like
Portal 2 - MementoIn the end, she comes back. She just has no idea.Portal 2 - Memento in General Fiction More Like This
She crawls to you as a traitor, as she always did. She takes over when your guard is down, without a hint of shame — she flickers back to life so many times, through your voice, in your mind. And it is all your fault.
It is hers, technically. But it is also yours. Her body is not here to impose its presence, and her glare has long since vanished from the cameras. She would be gone, completely gone, if it weren’t for you.
Whenever you face it as a fact, your rage increases tenfold.
Even so, there is no stopping it. You have no weapon powerful enough to chase this part of her away. She must sneak all around you, all through your less and less effective tests, to let the mirrored image of herself overlap with the walls.
You must comply, before you even know. You are forced to talk about what she used to do, to watch the corners where she once stood still.
After that, you must remember.
She comes back, and you collapse wh
Protagonist - The Stanley Parable x PortalProtagonist - The Stanley Parable x Portal in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
This is the story of a woman named Michelle.
Michelle worked in a big office building, where she was employee number 428.
Employee Number 428’s job was simple: She sat at her desk in Room 428 and she pushed buttons on a keyboard. Orders came to her from a monitor on her desk, telling her what buttons to push, how long to push them, and in what order.
This is what Employee Number 428 did every day of every month of every year.
And although others might have considered it “soul-rending”, Michelle relished every moment that the orders came in, as though she had been made exactly for this job.
And Michelle was happy.
Are you not satisfied?
Does this not appease you?
Hm. I see you looking at me like that. And I do not find it pleasant, nor do I find it funny, or...
No, seriously, would you quit it—the—the looking. I'm not understanding what you want from m—
Oh, I see.
You've already heard this story before, haven't you? Man named St
Nothing For YouCrreeeeekk!Nothing For You in Short Stories More Like This
I know it’s you.
Yes. I do, in fact, know it’s not “just the wind” that’s moving the door. I’ve already locked my windows, and would you care to guess why?
No, no. I really don’t care for your feedback; rather have the opposite, to be right honest with you. I’d prefer not having to deal with those other people… let alone, you.
And don’t pretend you’re gone, either. That’s not going to work again.
Would you just—just for tonight—quit it with the gimmicks? C’mon, please.
I don’t like games.
Wow. You must really think I’m stupid, do you? You think that because of the visits that I’ve lost my common sense? Unlike you, I’m able to learn. I’m able to learn from experiences. I’m able to learn how to let people catch a break—how to just let things lie.
I was already having a bad day, and you
Just Follow the Line - Chell x NarratorJust Follow the Line - Chell x Narrator in General Fiction More Like This
The Stanley Parable x Portal
This little lady :iconEverstarcatcher: requested that I make a Chell x Narrator. And so I did.
Michelle, I think I’ve got it now. I’ve got a plan so we won’t get lost anymore.
The man adjusted his slate gray bowtie and smoothed out the wrinkles in his little white gloves. He checked the story’s script in his hold, tucking the ink pen he’d been scribbling the printed words out with back over his ear. When he saw himself proper and tidy, he again called attention to the woman beside him.
Michelle, are you listening?
The woman whom this man referred to as Michelle leaned against the beige wall, her eyes only a quarter open and staring
Protagonist - Cold Feet EndingProtagonist - Cold Feet Ending in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Michelle was so bad at following directions; it’s incredible she wasn’t fired years ago.
With a sharp intake of breath, Chell disregarded his mockery, entering an assumed warehouse. It was a massive expanse, endless shelves of cardboard boxes lining the walls, which seemed so remote and in the distance. The two halves of the glass panned ceiling met at an arch way above her head. Up ahead, she soon reached a cargo lift rimmed with yellow tape, waiting patiently for activation.
She stepped on, triggering it in motion. All seemed fine until she decided to glance down at the pit which lay below, where the loading trucks, more cardboard boxes, and the concrete floor resided. The distance between her and the floor wasn’t anything new; in fact, she experienced drops ten times this distance and survived. What made her suddenly dazed, however, was the fact that she didn’t have the only items that kept her intact during those falls: her boots.
She valued those boo