I know that I definately shouldn't be posting more fanfics at the mo seeing as none of my multichaps are ever finished, but this one has been mulling around my head for a while, and was begging to be posted.

Hero's Cuties definatly, and possibly Jawbreaker, but I can't decide just yet!

Please if you favourite or anything post a review, these are new characters and I'm not sure if I've got them completely bang on yet!

Hope you enjoy.


It was a normal Saturday afternoon when it happened.

Gamers had flooded the old arcade to play, and slip away the last few quarters before the arcade was closed for the weekend. The middle-aged man who ran the hot-spot was making his last few rounds of the day, checking up on old friends, and new ones, whilst every-so-often dispensing a few cheeky quarters into a passer-bys hand. Watching all of this from behind a transparent glass screen, enclosing a little inescapable world of eight-bit blocks and characters stood a man, reaching up to a mere four-foot, but re-scaling on the glass to a solid two inches worth of running, streaming code. He was taking an unaccustomed break from his constant jumping and hammering. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the glaring florescent text of the only first-person shooter in the arcade. The machine stood firm and strong against the background of the more elder machines.

"All right, ladies! The kitten-whispers and tickle fights stop NOW!" the harsh words spoken from the superior was enough to straighten out any incompetent character in the game, but not so much the gamers who brandished the chunky pieces of plastic that were the imitation weapons. He tried not to show his wince as he knew what was about to come next (not to the controllers themselves), but to the unfortunate characters, that were locked in those movements throughout their daily lives. Glancing upwards, through the transparent glass that kept him locked up in his own little (comparatively) safe world, his eyes momentarily met with the superior's from the gun-wielding game. It caused a redness to seep into his cheeks that only the leading soldier could cause, and – too his (secret) delight – a little blush crept along their face as well.

"*&^%!" the main hero was brought back down to the earth with a thump, and glanced over to the sidelines of his game, to see a short, orange character, trumpeting him to pay more attention to his job.

A red glow appeared across his cheeks and he coughed awkwardly, rubbing his gloved hand through the short-cropped hair at the top of his neck, and he pointedly ignored the eye-roll sent in his direction. He daren't reply as otherwise, a small, crisp white bubble would appear atop his head, not just visible to those residing in the game world; but to those out beyond the confines of the screen as well.

"Quarter alert!" was yelled out by the residential land lord, and the hero felt himself being pulled into action, looking up at the screen he saw that it was one of the regulars. A short bespectacled girl, that had quick fingers and reflexes to boot. The hero's enjoyed being controlled by her as they rarely suffered the fate of being regenerated. The villains, not so much. Taking his place at the base of the tower he waited for the ominous chunk of the quarter as it hit home, powering the whirring circuits to life.

Then it happened.

"I'm gonna-" his co-worker's voice was cut off as the whole world was flung into darkness.

"Mr Litwick!" the regular called over her shoulder, surprise and a hint of worry in her voice. For although she adored all of the games in the arcade, she loved the retro Fix-it Felix Junior the most. Swallowing her anxiety she waved the owner over frantically, her right hand never moving from the joystick, as if the whole machine would disappear if she let go. She watched as the elder man walked over, with a happy-to-help smile on his face, and then gave a small sympathetic smile of her own as he realised the fate of the old machine.

"Come on Rookie put your back into it!" Sargent Tamora Jean Calhoun commanded, her voice sharp and demanding, her actions fluid and practised. "These Cy-bugs aren't going to shoot themselves!" the screeching metallic menaces flew towards them in increasing numbers, their claws clicking monotonously as they slashed through the air. She couldn't help but wince as she felt one of the wire-sharp wings dig into her armor and drag her shoulder backwards. Biting back a cry she fumbled for her short-range pistol that hung at a her belt as a constant safety next. Suddenly there was an explosion that almost sent her flying, and caused her ears to buzz with a constant ringing. Glancing over her shoulder she saw her second-in-command give a knowing salute before diving out of the way from another bug. "Rookie!" she snapped ferociously at the one-person droid "Concentrate!" Ignoring the pain in her shoulder she continued to blast the beasts with everything she had. Taking one out directly through it's rotating mouth, watching with some sick satisfaction as it exploded into a cascade of plasma and metal.

"Dude what'chya doin'?" she tried not to growl in annoyance as out of the corner of her eye she saw that the inexperienced greasy-haired teen had an accomplice in crime.

"What do yer thin' dumbass?" the kid controlling the game replied, and with a smirk the Sargent realised that the Rookie's shots improved ten-fold as soon as his spotty smart-ass friend was standing next to him. She heard a low whistle, and wished that she was able to punch the hormone-driven boy in the face.

"She's one hot chick," his friend replied. "I'd get some of that ass for sure,"

Feeling hurt and more-than-a-little itemised Calhoun was sorely tempted to turn round and shoot the droid in the screen, but that would lead to the machine showing up as a glitch, and possibly decommissioning. Something that she dared not think about.

"I know," the Rookie replied. "I've gotta say I'd tap that-"

"I'm sorry boys," she whispered under her breath, "But there's only one hero that's gonna tap this and it's certainly not you," in the back of her mind she made a mental note to tie her husband to the nearest available surface and ravish him when she got home.

"You hear about the old clunker?" Calhoun had to bite her lip to prevent herself from breaking character as the Rookie's friend took a loud slurp out of his slushy.

"What that old crappy Pac-Man game?"

She was so tempted to destroy the first person droid, right there and then. The Sargent had to admit, although a complete and utter pain at parties Pac-Man had become a close friend of hers, and she got on well with his wife. It wasn't surprising that she was overprotective of one of the only eight-bit machines left in the arcade.

"No dude," the brotherly shove to the shoulder sent the Rookie's shot careering off-course, and splitting past her in a burst of neon fire-power. "That old Fix-it Felix Jr. game,"

Everything around her slowed, and the well trained Sargent felt her chest constrict, and her gun almost slip from her suddenly shaking hands. Not Fix-it, no, no, no, NO! Not her husband. She couldn't loose somebody else she loved, not again. It was like watching a horror movie, where you desperately wanted to look away due to the fright, but were forced to keep going to as you wanted to know the ending. Trying to desperately stop her shaking hands she squared her shoulders, cracking her suddenly stiff neck and forcing her gun up into her suddenly aching arms. Granted the desperation that she was going mad was clawing at her, but she forced herself to ignore the two boys and continue on with her job.

"Yeah the screen just died it was well weird, like the colour's just broke,"

"Keep on going, Calhoun," the woman muttered to herself, in a desperate mantra, over and over again. "Keep on going. Don't look back, whatever you do don't look back,"

"The old man who runs the arcade looked dead upset,"

"Dude I don't care," she heard the Rookie reply harshly, as the first person shooter took another failed shot at a Cy-bug flying over head. She winced automatically as she heard a screech from Green and a clank of metal on amour.

"Sheesh," there was a pause. "Just tellin' ya so you could get ya quarter back,"

"Heh, it's only a quarter,"

It's only a quarter, the words made her freeze in her tracks. She clutched her gun so hard her knuckles shone white under her gloves, and her face contorted into a growling grimace.

She would not loose him.

Suddenly there was the clicking of metal legs against cool hard rock, and the slowing hum of four huge neon-green trembling wings. Glancing up she readied herself, for she knew what was going to come.

There was an abrupt sear of pain across her body, and her legs crumpled underneath her. Blood poured over her armor and ran ruby red across the stained bloody pavement of the one-person shooter. Please let this be a dream, the words flashed in her mind as the world slowed and she fell limply forwards into the bug-blood soaked ground, not even wincing as she felt some of the sticky green liquid slip into her already open wound, please let me re-spawn and none of these modding things are coding happening.

With one gut churning breath she felt her life leave her, her trusted weapon slipping from her fingers and landing on the wet ground with a small splash.


"Mr Litwick!" the elder man turned to see a young girl beside him, tugging on his shirt sleeve. The arcade owner had been on edge ever since his faithful Fix-it Felix Jr. game had crashed. The screen had completely died, and no amount of tapping or nudging the machine was going to bring it back to life. He realised that if he wanted to save the old console he was going to have to try and find a lot of money from somewhere to fix up the damaged machine. The man turned to see a ten-year-old girl tugging insistently at his sleeve. Getting down to her eye-level (and ignoring the creaking of his joints) the man struck up conversation with the youngster.

"Well little missy, what can I help you with?"

"Sir, it's Sugar Rush! Come over here!"

Straightening he frowned, first Fix-it and now the racing game, how many more games were going to stop working this afternoon?

"What's the issue?" his frown grew as he saw a crowd of kids crushing round the game, and a girl, seated in the seat, tugging (a little harder than he'd like) at the wheel.

"It just stopped!"

"No it's still workin'!"

"All right kids, all right, let me through!" his commanding voice had the immediate effect. The kids quietened down and he manoeuvred his way towards the machine. "Now what seems to be the problem Isabella?" he asked quietly to the regular who was sitting in her favourite game, a scowl on her face.

"Vanellope just stopped!"

"It's like she froze!"

Mentally sighing at the kids impatiences the owner went up to the screen, peering over the rim of his glasses his frown deepened. Yes the kids had been right, the small little girl that they adored had frozen in place, almost as if she'd glitched. Sighing he gave the disgruntled children their money back and shooed them away.

"Now old girl, what's with you?" he leaned forwards, tapping the screen, and too his surprise he saw one of the characters that would randomly appear next to the princess on the main game frame run out of shot. They were not in their usual clothing nor were they in a kart. His frown deepened as he saw a reflection move off on the top hand corner of the screen. His wandering eyes widened in surprise as he saw one of the characters from the hit Super Smash Bros console slip off from the main menu, he had a feeling it had been Link. Suddenly the machine whirred back into life and the character returned back into movement. He watched with amazement as the character and kart seemed to move on their own without any control from the user. As he watched he saw another kart move in behind, in completely normal racing conditions, that was until the girl avatar pressed a button on her kart and her weapon shot out of the back, making various clunking and clinking noises. The elder man was rooted to the spot as he watched as the blond haired avatar took control of the weapon and fired.

Nice shot! The voice rang out around his head, making him wince, since when did video games get so loud? He watched for the next few seconds as the kart and driver spun out of control sending the teal-wearing racer spinning out and careening into the side of the sugary-looking ground.

The large ominous words of GAME OVER (tinted pink and outlined in black because of the games innocent nature – but still just as foreboding) hung silently in the air. Figuring that everything was fine, satisfied the owner patted the side of the console lovingly and wandered off to help another customer.

He'd lost one machine all ready, he couldn't afford to loose another.

The young president of Sugar Rush head was spinning. Pain shot up her arm and sliced through her shoulder. When she tried to move her fingers a white hot searing shot of pain whipped up to her brain. Unwanted tears sprung to her eyes and panic started to rise through her chest. They only had a matter of time before the next quarter was dropped and if she didn't get out of the camera angle soon her predicament would be laid bare to the arcade. With her uninjured arm she desperately waved over the rest of the racers that had just past the finish line, and tried to heave herself out from the kart. The pain from her arm was too much and she bit out a cry. Suddenly she smelt the horrifying smell or burning sugar, and gasped as heat flew across her face, feeling as if it had scorched the tips of her hair.

Finally allowing a muffled scream of anger and fear at her predicament she desperately tried to wriggle free as the flames leapt higher. Wincing at the heat and the pain from her broken arm the young girl desperately tried to free herself from the burning vehicle. Out of the side of her vision she saw two of her fellow racers running towards her at break-neck speed. Her vision started to blur, and she felt the pain in her arm grow.

Suddenly there were two sets of hands heaving her steadily out of the kart, and hauling her away, ignoring her muffled protests as they dragged her kicking from her melting vehicle. Gasping for breath she fell to her knees, inhaling and exhaling at a furious pace as she sucked air back into her constricting lungs, shaking as she doubled over from the pain coursing through her arm and up across her shoulder.

"Vell!" there was a terrified yell over the buzzing in her ears and the young racer looked up through squinted eyes to see a candle bob in front of her view. "President are you all right?"

"Do I look all right?" she snapped, finally getting her voice back after a fit of hacking coughs, body shaking with the effort of holding herself together.

"Vanellope!" there was a cry from the winner of the race as she shot towards the young ruler, hair askew and eyes wet. "I'm so sorry!"

"I," she struggled to breathe as the pain from her arm became excruciating, her vision starting to fade as her legs buckle underneath her as exhaustion washed over her. She felt two gentle hands hook underneath her and pull her back up, as her vision started to fade she saw that Rancis was holding her tenderly, a concerned frown on his cherub-like face. "Tell Candelhead... I need to get to Hammertime's game," she moaned in pain as the shock started to set in. "I need,"

"No," his voice was firm and commanding, surprising her, even though she was starting the tumble down into unconsciousness. "You need a doctor and for the game to reset, and then to Fix-it Felix."

She made grab for his arm, her whole body feeling as if it was wilting like a dying flower. "Their game, I've got to know if Stinkbrain..."

And her world was swallowed by darkness.

Well there you have it, it's going to be multichapter, but I have this really annoying habit of getting writers block as soon as I post something! :D

Anyway hope you enjoyed and have a good week.