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
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
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
Transformers: We Came in WarTransformers: We Came in WarTransformers: We Came in War in General Fiction More Like This
Setting: Sometime during the Bay films
Characters: Optimus Prime
We came to this planet because ours was gone.
The quest for power consumed our home. The need for domination destroyed us. Still we live, and yet there is a piece in each of us that has been decimated forever. We will never recover what we have lost.
I look down upon this planet, and I wonder why we try.
It is evident by now that we have lost the capacity for peace. War follows in our wake. We came to retrieve the AllSpark, which has long since been lost, and we are still here. All that came of attempting to revive our planet was the relocation of the war from our planet of death to this planet of life. There is so much life on this planet. All of it we have sworn to protect. This is the promise we have made to them. But the promise would not need to have been made if we had never co
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 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 - 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 - 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 - 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 - Ever AfterThey called them happy endings.Portal 2 - Ever After in General Fiction More Like This
It was a fitting name to call them, honestly. Stories like those only told the human habit of being stupidly happy. There was no evolution, no responsibility, in closing a story with an implied beginning — they found it easier to pretend, ignoring the chain of cause and effect of an entire lifetime in the name of cowardice.
She always knew those stories had no meaning. They were heaps of assumptions and prejudice, topped by a generous amount of wishful thinking. But now that this part of her own story ends, and she is left alone with a new eternity to think, the truth shines more clearly than it ever did.
None of their stories ended with this.
No sweetened fairytale could end with so many broken things. The torn walls and chambers are the least of the damage; despite being so many, so vivid in her from the whole facility, there is something greater and hard to define.
It feels like a failed experiment, one of the kind that needs to be
Portal 2 - More ScienceShe tries harder every day.Portal 2 - More Science in General Fiction More Like This
Her internal clock gives a start to her mornings with a drizzle of orders, soft and systematic; they join the buzz of the neon lights, flooding the circuitry of each tier.
She lets them out, one by one, until the slow awakening turns into activity — the machines obey in a slow crescendo, a tune unchanged for years, to fulfill a ritual as unnecessary as it is needed.
She gives a timing to her world outside. It is a way, a resource, to silence the error she cannot correct in herself. It makes things a little less heavy, if not better at all.
For yes, her voice still takes her by surprise, when her plans flow too well to distract her — her echo, her sad song, springs from the back of her memory. With her and her grief, Aperture comes to a halt.
She needs a pensive pause; then, again, it starts over.
Portal 2 - Ch'ella stimaPortal 2 - Ch'ella stima in General Fiction More Like This
"So, the lunatic is dead and gone. Well, not yet maybe. At least she is not here, and killing her is none of my business anymore. This is a relief for everyone.
I'd say we have sung enough. I don't know what gets me to sing every time she tries to destroy the facility. It must be some old Aperture processor I'll burn it down as soon as I locate it.
Good performance, by the way. But, honestly, tell me; did your little orchestra really have to arrange such a majestic farewell for her? Oh, no no no, you cannot say it was my idea. Itcame from some glitched part of the system. Apparently, that moron made a perfect mess out of the piece of perfection my chassis is. Well, was.
Also, as a turret, you are not authorized to tell lies about me. I can't even imagine feeling admiration for a shameless murderer. I'd like to know what on earth made you sing those lines don't start telling me I am wrong, I heard you, and my translation system cannot fai