Hi.

How do you feel about fan-fics? Love 'em? Hate 'em? Write 'em? All of the above? Or maybe you never got around to this crazy world where anything can happen (but usually all that happens revolves around licensed characters exploring their sexuality)?

Do you think that gaming fan-fics are inferior to cinematic fan-fics (which in turn are inferior to book fan-fics)?

What was the best fan-fic you've ever encountered? What was the worst one?

Would you ever w r i t e o n e ?

We could get all the answers at the expense of a couple of hundreds of Bothans, but--strangely--we can't seem to find any, lately.

So, tell us!

(not shown: G-Doc's 8-part MLP/Samurai Jack crossover fanfic epic.)

>.>

God damn it, T. How many times do I have to tell you? It's BSG/Afro Samurai, not MLP/Samurai Jack.

[...]Ignoring Starbuck, Afro looked at the steaming remains of the disemboweled girl. He couldn't help but to think that robots didn't suppose to look like this. They should have cables, servomotors, and coolant fluid on the inside. Not blood. Yet, there it was. Staining the dusty training ground before the Dojo. Marking the paper walls with bright red sprays. Dripping from the tip of Afro's katana.

Was the energetic blonde woman in military jumpsuit lying to him? Had he unwillingly broken his oath again, by slaying yet another human being. The girl he'd just sliced open so effortlessly, just by giving way to his muscle memory, looked scared as his singing, razor-sharp blade reached her bosom. Her eyes did fill with pain, as a red stream gushed from her mouth.

There wasn't much time to think. More and more vessels kept landing in the rice fields. They looked alien and ominous, with their pulsating red lights. Then they started deploying troops, and the sight of their shiny, metallic bodies made Afro feel somewhat more comfortable. They weren't human. For sure.

As a squad of centurions began to advance towards them, Starbuck yelled "Forget that frakking Eight. Let's move!", grabbing Afro's arm, and pulling him towards the momentary sanctuary of the Dojo walls. He resisted. Changing the grip on his sword he let out a angry roar, as he rushed towards the enemy ranks. Robots. Not humans. This would be fun. [...]