Game Start vs A Forfeit of Dreams
Last year llivla posted a Yu-Gi-Oh story on Livejournal containing a passage that resembled to a fan-favorite scene (it's the one quoted whenever someone recs it) from my Labyrinth story A Forfeit of Dreams (AFOD). The similarity was brought to her attention, and she claimed that she had my permission to use my words. (I've edited out the original commentator's info because I haven't gotten their permission to quote them.) She also said that while it wasn't included in the Livejournal entry, she gave me credit where the story was posted on Fanfiction.net. The commentator apologized for the misunderstanding.
I was notified by a separate party, and left a comment clarifying that I had NOT given her permission, and that it was my standard practice to refuse similar requests. She replied, extremely upset, saying the impulse came from how much AFOD meant to her and promising to take the story down. I thought it was a bad situation made worse by what were obviously very high emotions on both sides. I didn't trust myself to reply sensibly, but I backed off to give her time and space to do as promised. The journal entry was deleted before I had a chance to take another screencap, this one including her reply to me (thought I still have it in my inbox and can reproduce it here if asked), and I took it as a good sign.
Recently someone emailed me again to say her fanfic Game Start remained on Fanfiction.net, altered but still containing noticeable similarities with AFOD. I had saved a file of the original draft when it was first brought to my attention but hadn't read it over except to note the "popular" passage, as just that was a painful experience. I did so now, and was dismayed to find that the similarities didn't stop there. Moreover, in the "new" version there has been little to no attempt to delete what look like direct quotations of AFOD, just further paraphrase or add/ subtract adjectives to muddle the resemblance.
I also found out that she was not entirely honest in claiming she'd given me credit -- originally she'd only reproduced her version of the "popular" scene in the author's notes and then followed it with a recommendation for my fanfic. She's since altered it only to quote AFOD's version of the scene, though I specifically stated she does not have permission to use my words or dialogue or give the impression to others that I OK-ed the "homage." She makes no mention of other scenes containing similarities with AFOD, which I discovered on my own.
The sections of my own story are in normal type, and I've bolded the passages which I think are being reproduced.
The sections of Game Start, both original and current versions, are in italics. Those sentences which follow my own work word-for-word are in bold (with exceptions for changing pronouns), those lightly paraphrased (i.e., AFOD has a description of body language, Game Start retains the sentence pattern with a different description of body language; different ages quoted; same sentiment but slightly different diction; etc.) are underlined.
Note: all links to AFOD lead to the Digital Quill archival, as Fanfiction.net has destroyed the formatting from 2001 and this still gets my goat. But the posting date at Digital Quill still predates Game Start by three years.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 1:
"You've got it, too, you know," he said abruptly.
"What?" Her voice was slightly muffled as she pulled a t-shirt over her head.
"The part."
She paused in the act of fastening her watch. "I'm only a freshman."
"Don't give me that crap, Sarah. You're amazing. Really."
Game Start, original version:
“You got it you know,” he was saying amiably. They were at their friend (and Anzu’s cousin) Honda’s house, babysitting his cousin, the infamous baby Chouji.
“What?” Her voice was slightly muffled as she pulled the hoodie off over her head now that it was successfully covered in spewed milk.
“The part.”
She paused smoothing out her hair before the mirror, her eyes on her own reflected ones. “I’m only a junior, Yuugi. Barro-sensei goes in order; upperclassman Myoko will get it.”
Yuugi folded his arms leaning over the mantle. “You shouldn’t talk that way about yourself, Anzu; you’re…amazing.” He looked away, embarrassed. “Really.”
Current version:
“I think you'll be all right,” he was saying amiably, to their earlier conversation. They were at their friend (and Anzu’s cousin) Honda’s house, babysitting his cousin, the infamous baby Chouji...who Jounouchi called behind "its" mother's back,
"Rose Mary's spawn."
It was a horrible thing to say, and one hundred percent accurate.
“What?” Anzu's voice was slightly muffled as she pulled the hoodie off over her head now that it was successfully covered in spewed milk.
“Your dance show," Yuugi winced at the dripping on the floor. He snatched a standby paper towel to mop of the splattering of white liquid over the kitchen floor. "You'll be...first string for the winter production, or whatever the saying is."
She paused smoothing out her hair before the little mirror next to the fridge, eyes on her own reflected ones. “I don't know, Yuugi. I'm trying, but Barro-sensei plays favorites. I keep having nightmares that Myoko-san will get it.”
Yuugi folded his arms leaning over the mantle while Anzu tried to feed Chouji peas instead. “You shouldn’t talk that way about yourself, Anzu; you’re…amazing.” He looked away, embarrassed. “Really.”
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
"It's morbid in here."
"It is not morbid!" Sarah exclaimed indignantly.
"Your side is."
"Just because I don't have beer and band posters, you think it's morbid."
Nikki lifted herself out of bed. She was wearing just a flannel shirt, buttoned crookedly, as she padded over to the opposite wall. "This one," tapping a poster with her finger, "is definitely spooky."
Sarah gave a small smile. She knew that Nikki wasn't really serious. But her roommate had a surprising protective streak inside her and she wanted Sarah to get out and experience life more. The only thing was, Sarah enjoyed her life as it was. She was never fond of huge parties where she didn't know anyone, or hanging out in clubs just to dance with complete strangers. Her world was small, but full -- talking for hours with a few friends, catching ice cream after late-night rehearsals, going with a group to see a film on the weekends. She didn't understand how Nikki would think she was lonely. But Sarah really liked Nikki, and so she played along with the semi-critical banter.
...
She shrugged. "Is that all?"
"Well, give me a bit," Nikki said, throwing herself back onto her bed.
Game Start, original version:
“Who’s an emo?” Yuugi said accusingly, narrowing his eyes as he turned his head on her, frowning.
Anzu grinned. She was wearing just a SPIRIT crop top, a little wrinkled from running around all day. But to Yuugi, Anzu always looked wonderful. “This,” she said, tapping the black shirt hiding under his uniform with her finger, “is definitely emo.”
Yuugi gave a small, amused smile. He knew that Anzu wasn't really serious. But his childhood friend had a surprisingly protective streak inside her and she wanted Yuugi to get out and experience life more. The only thing was, she guessed wrong that Yuugi didn’t enjoy his life as it was. On the contrary, he was never fond of huge, loud beer parties where he didn't know anyone, or hanging out in smoky clubs just to dance with complete strangers. His world was small, but warm: talking for hours with a few friends, catching ice cream after late-night tournaments, going with Anzu after her waitressing stint at Burger World to see a film on the weekends. He didn't understand how Anzu would think he was lonely.
But Anzu was so full of life, and Yuugi really loved her, and so he played along with the semi-critical banter.
“Hmph,” he said sophisticatedly, folding his arms over his chest in an attempt at a scowl. But his face was too friendly--too adorable--for it, and it only made her giggle again. “Anything else of my fragile ego you feel the life-threatening need to completely dismantle?”
“Give me a bit,” she poked him again.
Current version:
“Who’s an emo?” Yuugi said accusingly, narrowing his eyes as he turned his head on her, frowning.
Anzu grinned. She was wearing just a NOT MORE TEAM SPIRIT crop top, a little wrinkled from running around all day. But to Yuugi, Anzu always looked wonderful. “This,” she said, tapping the black shirt hiding under his uniform with her finger, “is definitely emo.”
Yuugi gave an amused roll of his eyes. She actually usually did similar comments like this: whether it was his hair, his posture, etc, but he knew Anzu didn't voice these things to intentionally hurt him. On the contrary she sometimes would suddenly decide that the world should know how likeable he was, and why he was so afraid to grab life by the horns. The only thing was, she guessed wrong that Yuugi didn’t enjoy his life as it was. On the contrary, he was never fond of huge, loud beer parties where he didn't know anyone, or racing motorcycles in death-defying stunts like Honda and Jounouchi were into. His world was small, but warm: chatting with lazy friends on the lawn after school while the trees swayed overhead, going to Burger World with Hanasaki after late-night gaming tournaments, hopping on the train with a few friends and exploring the city at random stops on weekends. He didn't understand how Anzu would think he was lonely.
But Anzu was so full of life, and besides the fact Yuugi really loved her, he admired her an trusted her, and so he played along the same way.
“Hmph,” he said sophisticatedly, folding his arms over his chest in an attempt at a scowl. But his face was too friendly--too adorable--for it, and it only made her giggle again. “Anything else of my fragile ego you feel the life-threatening need to completely dismantle?”
“Give me a bit,” she poked him again.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 1:
She frowned, digging one shoe into the floor. "That's just it. I was totally obsessed with the book when I was younger."
...
She grinned, abashed. "Well, I was a little older than that."
"How old?"
She squirmed. "Fifteen."
He raised his eyebrows. "Well. Highly nurtured imagination. Explains why you're such a good character actress."
Sarah laughed. "I know it sounds silly. But I really believed in that book. I was convinced it was real." She swung her feet absently, brooding. "I built an entire fantasy life on the idea that I was the heroine."
"Then what happened?"
"I grew out of it. Pretty quickly, in fact -- it's amazing how much you change between fifteen and eighteen, isn't it?
Game Start, original version:
Yuugi dug a finger into the mantle, face blank in memory. “I was totally obsessed with it when I was younger.”
...
"Okay, a little bit older than a little--"
She grinned wider.
“Anzu…”
“Tell me!”
“…Fourteen.”
“That’s not childish, Yuugi,” she said brightly. “That’s advanced imagination. This is only additional proof to my theory that everyone else besides us is too simple.”
...
“I know it sounds silly,” Anzu put her chin in her palm. “But like you with the story of the Puzzle, I really believed in that legend. I was convinced it was real.” He raised his gaze to the ceiling, brooding. “I built an entire fantasy life around an adventure against the Game King, and I was the heroine.”
“So who were you so stupid to wish away?” Yuugi teased.
She shoved him. “A minor detail I omitted in my daydreams. What about you? What happened to your Puzzle adventures?”
“Grew out of it. Pretty quickly, too. It’s amazing how much you change between fourteen and seventeen when you’re being shoved in lockers for rebelling against the standards of society.”
Current version:
“It was so not last year; I was a little kid back then!” Yuugi protested, looking determinedly at the wall.
“How young?”
"Okay, a little bit older than a little--"
She grinned wider.
“Anzu…”
“Tell me!”
“…Fourteen.”
“Bah. That’s not childish, Yuugi,” she said brightly. “That’s advanced imagination. This is only additional proof to my theory that everyone else besides us is too boring.”
...
“I know it sounds silly,” Anzu put her chin in her palm. “But like you with the story of the Puzzle, I really believed in that legend. I was convinced it was real. I built an entire fantasy life around an adventure against the Game King, and I was the beloved heroine.”
“So who were you so stupid to wish away?” Yuugi teased.
She shoved him lightly, mock-scowling. “A minor detail I omitted in my daydreams. What about you? What happened to your Puzzle adventures?”
“Grew out of it. Pretty quickly, too. It’s amazing how much you change between fourteen and seventeen when you’re being shoved in lockers for rebelling against the standards of society.”
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 1:
"How much do you know about legends?" The man asked abruptly.
Brian shrugged. "There's lots. They involve magic."
"No, they involve fear." Resting his elbows in the armrests, the man steepled his black-gloved fingers in front of his face. "All legends are based on fear. It's where they begin, how they evolve. In ancient times, what do you think the greatest fear was?"
Brian shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling uncomfortable with the history lesson. "I don't know... death?"
The stranger shook his head slowly. "Death was a part of everyday life. Men accepted the fact of their own death. They were content with it, expecting to live on through their children. And there is where their weak point lay."
"I don't follow."
"Children were extremely precious then, especially boy-children. There were black markets, slave trains. The greatest fear of a man's heart was coming home one day to find his sons had never returned home that evening, or that they would disappear from their beds in the middle of the night."
"Which is where the goblins come in," Brian said slowly, beginning to understand. The man nodded, once.
"Magical creatures with no other joy but to snatch those precious darlings from their wee little beds," he said softly, "In order to create more of their own." He shrugged elegantly. "An easy explanation, one for an all too common mystery."
Brian frowned. "But the king," he said hesitantly, "Why isn't he a goblin?"
"Aha." The man raised one finger. "You are quick. Goblins for the boys, a king..."
"For the girls," Brian finished in an admiring tone. "Damn."
"A king to seduce their daughters, to steal their hearts and bodies away from the home. Wives, too." The man sighed and let his hands drop, relaxing further into his seat. "The shape of the legends change, of course, as the world does. But belief is an amazingly powerful thing. And at the core, the stories are all the same."
Brian shook his head. "That's amazing. I never thought of it that way." He grinned. "I admit, I thought it was a rather silly tale. And that Sarah was an idiot for getting so into it -- course, she's cute like that."
Game Start, original version:
"Well," he said, holding up his prize in triumph before looking over at her, “How much do you know about legends, Anzu?”
She smiled dreamily. “Well, they usually involve magic, a knight, and akiss,” she winked, then sobered at his thoughtful expression instead of a blush. “Right?”
“Your explanation is better than the one Grandpa traumatized me with,” he confided. “He said they were about fear. What they birthed from, how they survived and evolved. In ancient times, what do you think the greatest fear was?"
Anzu entwined her fingers on her stomach, feeling uncomfortable with the history lessons Yuugi’s grandfather always talked about. Yuugi was right-they were usually creepier than Grimm fairytales. "I don't know…death?”
Yuugi shook his head slowly. “Death was a part of everyday life; men accepted the fact of their own death and didn't fight it. Remember the Black Plague and dying two days after getting a cold before proper medicine and all that? They were content with it, expecting to live on through their children. And there is where their weak point lay.”
Anzu leaned on the table, chin in her palm, and intent on Yuugi’s voice. “Oh…”
"Children were extremely precious then, especially boy-children. There were black markets, slave trains. The greatest fear of a man's heart was coming home one day to find his sons had never returned home that evening, or that they would disappear from their beds in the middle of the night.”
“Which is where thetwisted forms of the shadows come in," Anzu said slowly, beginning to understand. She looked at the dancing darkness surrounding the fireplace and shuddered. Her friend nodded absently, once.
“Magical creatures quietly darting from inescapable shadows with no other joy but to snatch their defenseless loved ones from their beds," he said softly, "In order to create even more of their own.” He shrugged. “Grandpa thought that was the reason for the Puzzle. A superstitious containment seal to lock away the darkness that was threatening.”
Anzu frowned. "But the king," she said hesitantly, "Why isn't he a monster?"
Yuugi raised a finger, grinning. “Think about it. Goblin-shadows for the boys, a king…”
“For the girls,” Anzu finished in an admiring tone, shaking her head in amusement remembering her own fantasies about the Game King.
“A king to seduce their daughters, steal their hearts and bodies away from the home. Wives, too.” Yuugi stroked the side of the Puzzle box absently. “The shape of the legends change, of course, as the world does. But belief is an amazingly powerful thing. And at the core, the stories are all the same.”
Anzu shook her head. “That's amazing. I never thought of it that way.” She grinned. "I admit, I thought it was a rather silly tale. You were just so into it I got caught up in it too-of course, you’re just cute like that.”
Current version:
"Well," he said, holding up his prize in triumph before finally looking over at her, “How much do you know about fairytales overall, Anzu?”
She smiled dreamily. “Well, they usually involve magic, a knight, and a kiss,” she winked, then sobered at his thoughtful expression instead of a blush. “Right?”
“Your explanation is better than the one Grandpa traumatized me with,” he confided. “He said they were about fear. What they birthed from, how they survived and evolved. Not Anderson's stuff: he scared me with stories about a doctor turning his daughter backwards on the bed so she wouldn't die, but death took him instead. That there were children being turned into donkeys, then shot by their oblivious parents. In stories like that, what do you think the greatest fear was?"
Anzu entwined her fingers on her stomach, feeling uncomfortable with the history lessons Yuugi’s grandfather always talked about. Yuugi was right - Grandpa had no sense of inappropriate child material, and what the old man made up was usually creepier than Grimm fairytales. "Well practically every horrible story would end with death, the mermaid vanished in the sea foam, the stepmother sent the kids in the empty forest for nuts --”
But Yuugi was shaking his head slowly. “Death was a part of everyday life. Remember the Black Plague and dying two days after getting a cold and all that angst? Instead, Grandpa told me it's where the phrase 'a parent should never outlive their child' became a more famous, common thing. So really, the greatest fear was more specifically losing what you loved most: your child.”
Anzu leaned on the table, chin in her palm, intent on Yuugi’s voice. “Oh…”
“I think it's just a natural thing. A parent's greatest fear is finding their son never walked through the door for dinner, or that they would wake up in the middle of the night and find them gone. Still happens, parents still pace and check fourteen times."
“The fear of the dark," Anzu added slowly, beginning to understand. She looked at the dancing shadows surrounding the fireplace and shuddered. When she was eight, Jounouchi had locked her in his creepy basement once as a joke; she'd thrashed him until he ran to his mother when she was done crying.
Her friend nodded absently, once, tapping the puzzle's sides. He shrugged. “Grandpa thought that was the reason for the Puzzle. A superstitious containment seal to lock away the darkness that was threatening.”
"What happened to the kids?"
"I dunno. Made more shadows? I don't think the king was a cuddly bear just trying to give them a better life."
Anzu frowned. "So why isn't he a monster? I distinctly remember Grandpa slapping his forehead when I asked why I should be afraid of someone who could top Brad Pitt."
Yuugi raised a finger, grinning. “Aw come on Anzu-san! Think about it. Shadows and the night for the boys, a king…”
“For the girls,” Anzu finished, shaking her head in amusement at her own fantasies about the Game King. Going through Sugoroku's trunks in the attic, finding rusted swords they could hardly lift; a veil she used to illustrate her dream wedding to the king while Yuugi tried not to fall asleep (or fall back down the ladder wobbling around with the ‘effing heavy’ sword).
She shook her head. “That's amazing. I never thought of it that way.” She grinned. "I admit, I thought it was kind of silly you never letting anyone else touch it, or even open it, when we were little. You were just so into it I got caught up in it too-of course, you’re just cute like that.”
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
What am I going to do about Brian?
Sarah didn't know what was wrong with her. It wasn't that she didn't like dating. She loved dancing with her boyfriends, heartily enjoyed kissing them, defied anyone to claim she wasn't as admiring and cuddly as any other girlfriend. But she just didn't understand the passion other people expressed. Boyfriends were fun. But that was it -- she didn't ever feel the need for more than that.
Game Start, original version:
What am I going to do?
She didn’t know where she stood anymore. Yuugi was the one person she never got all that annoyed with (and she got annoyed a lot). She liked dancing with him once she dragged him out on the dance floor, she liked using him as a human backboard when she had to vent and see what he threw back at her, they didn’t fight and Yuugi would definitely never cheat on her like some of her old boyfriends.
Her eyebrow raised as Chouji, cut off in mid-wail, flung his arms towards her. She picked him up and raised him from the crib, glancing back at the rocking chair in the corner before heading to it making cooing sounds.
And speaking of old boyfriend’s in general…
With them…it wasn’t that she wasn’t the typical admirable, cuddly girlfriend that mothers approved of, it wasn’t that her relationships ended on bad terms. She was the cuddly girlfriend; most of her exes still stopped her in the hallway to ask about her activities and hung out still. But there was no…oomph. No passion, no butterflies that movies and her other girlfriends sighed about.
Current version:
What am I going to do?
She didn’t know where she stood anymore. Yuugi was the one person she never got all that annoyed with (and she got annoyed a lot). She liked dancing with him once she dragged him out on the dance floor, she liked using him as a human backboard when she had to vent and see what he threw back at her, they didn’t fight and Yuugi would definitely never cheat on her like some of her old boyfriends.
Her eyebrow raised as Chouji, cut off in mid-wail, flung his arms towards her. Too caught up in her thoughts to be suspicious, she picked him up and raised him from the crib, glancing back at the rocking chair in the corner before heading to it making cooing sounds.
And speaking of old boyfriends in general…
With them…it wasn’t that she wasn’t the typical admirable, cuddly, cheerleading girlfriend that mothers approved of; it wasn’t that her relationships ended on bad terms. She was the cuddly girlfriend; they did end on smoother terms than most relationships. She still went to parties and rode home from games with exes without even an awkward moment.
But there was no…oomph. No passion, no butterflies that movies and her other girlfriends sighed about, no emotions that made you want to scream off the mountain tops I want to be with you forever.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
"Oh, come on, Sarah." Nikki turned her face away from the pillow, blowing errant strands of hair out of her face. "Drop the ice princess act for just one second and admit he looks like a very fuckable Jesus."
Sarah blinked. "I'm not sure he'd appreciate the comparison," she muttered.
Game Start, original version:
He was…a very molestable Jesus.
She sweat-dropped. And he would totally not appreciate that comparison, she winced.
Current version:
He was… a very tappable Jesus.
She sweat-dropped. And he would totally not appreciate that comparison, she winced.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
She sighed deeply. "And I really liked him. As a friend."
"Well, whatever you do, don't tell him that."
Game Start, original version:
Whatever you do, if you want to fix this at all, do NOT give the ‘I love you…as a friend’ speech, she told herself sternly.
Current version:
(unchanged)
[This one is pretty thin, given the popularity of the phrase/concept. But considering the context and placement of the sentiment across fics, it still makes me uncomfortable.]
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 1:
All at once, the theater went dark.
Game Start, original version:
She only knew over those high-pitched, drooling wails that suddenly, all at once, the power in the entire house went out.
Current Version:
She only knew as she fought to control herself against those high-pitched, drooling wails, that suddenly, all at once, the power in the entire house cut off.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
Sarah stepped inside the building, letting the door swing shut. And it hit her -- the theater smelled strange. It was a dry, earthy scent... it reminded her of old clothes and toys left in the attic, but also of damp forests and dust. It was distinctive. She knew she'd remember what it was in just a second, it was right there at the edge of her memory--
Goblins.
The breath left her body and she slumped against the doors, shaken. She could feel her heart beating in her mouth, fingers clutching convulsively at the handlebar. Searching for something, anything, solid to hold on to. Something real.
She stood there for a few minutes, breathing heavily. This is a dream, she thought distractedly. I'm asleep in my room. Nikki's snoring. Again. She calmed herself slowly, gathering her thoughts. You're playing tricks on yourself, Sarah, she thought angrily. That stupid play has gotten you thinking about this stuff again, and it's stupid. Goblins aren't real.
She leaned over to the socket, flipping one of the switches to the house lights. Nothing. She tried another, and another, but they were all dead. She could feel panic rising in a scream.
Stop it! she ordered herself. Stop scaring yourself! But she couldn't escape the feeling of déjà vu... Déjà fait, she thought, absent-minded. Then shook her head violently. STOP IT! You made that up when you were fifteen and incredibly lonely! It. Was. A. Fantasy. Toby wasn't snatched away by goblins. Because goblins don't exist. Goblin cities don't exist. And, most importantly, most especially, Goblin Kings do not, have not, and will not ever--
"Hello, Sarah."
Game Start, original version:
The smell hit her-the room smelled strange too. It was a dry, earthy scent; it reminded her of old clothes and toys left in the attic, but also…of damp forests and dust, of closed off caves and wet rocks. And at the same time, wet sand, water, ocean. Wind. It was distinctive.
It was as if everything she had seen darting past (whatever the things were…and she didn’t want to know), the shaking of the crib and dressers and toys, had been wiped clean.
The absence, her stomach clenched, of Chouji’s piercing wails was enough to make her faint, if she was in the right frame of mind to be that sort of person. As it was, her brain had taken a flight to the moon-she could not process, could not fathom what was goin-no!
Anzu stared at the crib in a trance. Behind her, she felt Yuugi tense in the too-normal, too-wrong, too-quiet of the room, and heard him hesitantly flip the light switch on and off. [This is similar, but in both instances it's a direct homage to a similar moment in the movie Labyrinth.]
Nothing.
NOTHING! She wanted to scream inside against her paralyzed lips. She stared at the crib. She raised her arm.
...
“Yu-Yuuuugi…” she stuttered. I’m asleep in the rocking chair. Chouji’s cries will wake me up. Yuugi’s downstairs and he’ll do that Yuugi thing that make kids leech on his legs and make them laugh and stop crying OMIGOD CHOUJI PLEASE START CRYING AND COME BACK! This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This can’t possibly be-
“Anzu.”
Current version:
The smell hit her-the makeshift baby beroom smelled strange. It reminded her of damp forests and dust, of closed off caves and wet rocks. (It's because it's raining outside. The window's closed, but it's raining. That's all.) And at the same time, dry sand, frosted leaves. Autumn wind. All of it so different, so contrasting, and yet impossibly together.
Then it was as if everything she had seen darting past (whatever the things were…and she didn’t want to know), the shaking of the crib and dressers and toys, had been wiped clean.
The absence, her stomach clenched, of Chouji’s piercing wails was enough to make her faint, if she was in the right frame of mind to be that sort of person. As it was, her brain had taken a flight to the moon-she could not process, could not fathom what was goin-no!
Anzu stared at the crib in a trance. Behind her, she felt Yuugi tense in the too-normal, too-wrong, too-quiet of the room, and heard him hesitantly flip the light switch on and off.
Nothing.
NOTHING! She wanted to scream inside against her paralyzed lips. She stared at the crib. She raised her arm.
...
“Yu-Yuuuugi…” she stuttered. I’m asleep in the rocking chair. Chouji’s cries will wake me up. Yuugi’s downstairs and he’ll do that Yuugi thing that make kids leech on his legs and make them laugh and stop crying OMIGOD CHOUJI PLEASE START CRYING AND COME BACK! This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This can’t possibly be-
“Anzu.”
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 1:
The man raised the brim of his hat slightly, and Brian stared. The face was strangely compelling: all sharp, clean angles. It should have been unattractive, but some line of the mouth or jaw had kept it from being so. Instead the face had a kind of cruel beauty.
...
In the audience, the man slowly pushed his hat back over his head. Pale hair fell roughly to his shoulders. Brian could see his face clearly now, and could believe the man's claims of playing Jareth. It was the eyes. Framed by long strands of
wheat-gold, they glittered with a strange knowledge. Perfect, Brian thought to himself, for playing a character that has spent eternity among other people's dreams.
Game Start, original version:
It was the eyes that had her so frozen, had her so pinned and immobile and useless. Framed by strands of gold, they bore into her with a strange knowledge, strange power…and blood. It was dark, but in her mind, like he was inside her head, blood. Blood, deep, dangerous and…
Perfect, Anzu thought deliriously to herself, This is the image Sugoroku was trying to explain to Yuugi, when he spoke of a creature spending eternity among other people’s dreams and darkness (no, no, that couldn’t be, this wasn’t happening). The face surrounding those eyes was strangely compelling: all sharp, clean, harsh angles.
It should have been unattractive, but some line of the mouth or jaw (or those eyes) had kept it from being so. Instead the face resulted in the cruelest, most intense of beauty reserved for the powerful, the beautiful, the royal, the ancient.
Current version:
It was the eyes that had her so frozen, had her so pinned and immobile and useless. Framed by strands of gold, they bore into her with a strange knowledge, strange power…and blood. It was dark, but in her mind, like he was inside her head, blood. Blood eyes, deep, dangerous and…
Perfect, Anzu thought deliriously to herself, This is the image Sugoroku was trying to explain to Yuugi, when he spoke of a creature spending eternity among other people’s never ending shadows and darkness (no, no, that couldn’t be, this wasn’t happening). The face surrounding those eyes was all sharp, all harsh angles. It should have been unattractive, but those slanted eyes had kept it from being so. It resulted in the cruelest, most intense of faces, reserved for the powerful, the royal, the ancient.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
He was on the stage, of course. His feet were braced a shoulder's width apart, encased in long, elegant boots. There was some kind of armor on his chest -- something steely-gray and yet strangely iridescent, the spotlight picking up subtle blues and purples in the textured metal. A dark cape hung from his shoulders, and it was as if the shadows themselves had peeled away from the walls to ripple around his body, as fluid as blood. His arms were crossed in front of him, waiting, slightly impatient for her response. He smiled at her, the same one-sided mocking grin. And a single arched eyebrow, like an upswept owl's wing.
It was hideously reminiscent of the first time she had seen him (as the truth of the meeting she could no longer deny to herself). He always made her felt this way -- grungy, awkward, and pathetic. Powerless.
Game Start, original version:
His feet were shoulder width apart when he came into the barest of light through the clouded window; she heard the click of black boots on the wooden floor before he’d stopped before the crib. His arms were at his sides, yet tense enough to be prepared to strike her down. He was in all black, as if when he’d stepped away from the shadow-clung walls he’d torn them away with his movement and they’d clung to his body instead like a second skin, creating the effect that his head was floating had it not been for the window to define him.
His face was cold, his body language condescending, short, and mocking. It make her feel grungy, awkward, coltish and stupid, and she clung to Yuugi’s hand on her shoulder without fully comprehending her friend was still there as those eyes drove through her soul.
Current version:
(unchanged)
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
"Deal." He grinned, flashing sharp teeth, and tossed the bauble in the air. Without thinking she lunged for it, stretching to save its fragility from crashing down to earth. He raised his arms as she moved, letting the cape fly into the air like the wings of some monstrous dark bird--
--and she was back on the hillside again, where she had stood three years ago after begging for Toby to be stolen away. The Labyrinth lay before her.
Game Start, original version:
“Hn.” The Game King raised his arms and snapped his fingers. Anzu’s grip on Yuugi’s hand tightened as the shadows flew from the walls and stretched over them like some monstrous dark dragon’s wings violently ripping away the bedroom-
-and they were on the ground of a brown, grassy hillside.
Current version:
“Hn.” The Game King raised his arms and snapped his fingers. Anzu’s grip on Yuugi’s hand tightened as the shadows flew from the walls and flew to cover them like some monstrous dark dragon’s wings violently ripping away the bedroom and crush them-
-and they were on the ground of a hillside, covered with bones, hard earth, and dead grass.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 3
The dusty landscape burned with the late afternoon sun overhead, just as before. The Labyrinth itself seemed to writhe like a living thing as its twisted pathways coursed over the ground, like before. Sarah could even -- if she squinted her eyes -- make out the low, flowering bushes that lined the outer wall, which Hoggle had been tending when they first met. But something, something...
"Why is it different?" she whispered to herself.
"Because you are different."
Sarah jumped. She had forgotten about Jareth entirely in her sudden confusion. He gave her a bitter smile, as if he knew it, before continuing.
"You didn't think the Labyrinth was an unchanging entity, did you? It wouldn't claim so very many victims if it were. It's a personal challenge to everyone that enters its walls, reflecting their dreams and fears." Jareth leaned back easily against one of the barren, twisted trees that covered the land outside the Labyrinth. The rich sunlight caught on its cobwebbed limbs, and he was a dark shadow against the glittering beauty.
Game Start, original version:
The dusty landscape burned with the late afternoon sun overhead, a hot, dead, airless wind shot in various directions all around them, picking up her hair and biting her cheeks. Beneath their young, wide eyes the labyrinth itself seemed to writhe like a living god as it twisted in a vast expanse of diverging, crumbling walls and pathways coursing over the ground. Anzu could even-if she squinted her eyes-make out low, flowering bushes that lined the outer stone walls at the entrance.
...
Anzu jumped. She had forgotten about the Game King entirely in her sudden confusion. He looked at her as if she knew what she was thinking. An even look with his beautiful eyes, he was a dark, crackling shadow of power leaning against a dead tree, before continuing: “Know this: There is a reason the Puzzle was sealed to prevent summoning the Dark Game. It is a personal challenge to everyone that enters its walls, reflecting their deepest dreams and deepest fears.” He stepped away from it; they tensed as he stopped three feet from them.
“It wouldn't claim so very many victims otherwise." He unfolded an arm to gesture the dead tree.
Current version:
The dusty landscape burned with the late afternoon sun overhead, a hot, dead, airless wind shot in various directions all around them, picking up their hair and biting their cheeks. Beneath their young, wide eyes the labyrinth itself seemed to writhe like a living god as it twisted, raised, and lowered in a vast expanse of diverging, crumbling walls and pathways snaking over a landscape: wild lands, water, desert, stone.
...
Anzu jumped. She had forgotten about the Game King entirely in her sudden confusion. He looked at her as if she knew what she was thinking. An even look with his beautiful eyes, and exotic skin: he was a dark, crackling shadow of power leaning against a dead tree, before continuing: “Know this: There is a reason the Puzzle was sealed to prevent summoning the Dark Game. It is a personal challenge to everyone that enters its walls, reflecting their deepest dreams and deepest fears.” He stepped away from it; they tensed as he stopped three feet from them.
“It wouldn't claim so very many victims otherwise." He unfolded an arm to gesture the dead tree.
Apologies if I overstepped the bounds with excessive examples/highlights -- it helped me work through my frustration, but it might be overkill.
I haven't contacted llivla since 2008, and I have not contacted the admin at Fanfiction.net. Despite my anger and frustration I really don't know where this case lies. The original version seems a clear-cut case of theft, but with the changes I'm not sure if it's true plagiarism or just lazy writing which ignores the spirit of my request. I welcome any advice on what to do next.
I was notified by a separate party, and left a comment clarifying that I had NOT given her permission, and that it was my standard practice to refuse similar requests. She replied, extremely upset, saying the impulse came from how much AFOD meant to her and promising to take the story down. I thought it was a bad situation made worse by what were obviously very high emotions on both sides. I didn't trust myself to reply sensibly, but I backed off to give her time and space to do as promised. The journal entry was deleted before I had a chance to take another screencap, this one including her reply to me (thought I still have it in my inbox and can reproduce it here if asked), and I took it as a good sign.
Recently someone emailed me again to say her fanfic Game Start remained on Fanfiction.net, altered but still containing noticeable similarities with AFOD. I had saved a file of the original draft when it was first brought to my attention but hadn't read it over except to note the "popular" passage, as just that was a painful experience. I did so now, and was dismayed to find that the similarities didn't stop there. Moreover, in the "new" version there has been little to no attempt to delete what look like direct quotations of AFOD, just further paraphrase or add/ subtract adjectives to muddle the resemblance.
I also found out that she was not entirely honest in claiming she'd given me credit -- originally she'd only reproduced her version of the "popular" scene in the author's notes and then followed it with a recommendation for my fanfic. She's since altered it only to quote AFOD's version of the scene, though I specifically stated she does not have permission to use my words or dialogue or give the impression to others that I OK-ed the "homage." She makes no mention of other scenes containing similarities with AFOD, which I discovered on my own.
The sections of my own story are in normal type, and I've bolded the passages which I think are being reproduced.
The sections of Game Start, both original and current versions, are in italics. Those sentences which follow my own work word-for-word are in bold (with exceptions for changing pronouns), those lightly paraphrased (i.e., AFOD has a description of body language, Game Start retains the sentence pattern with a different description of body language; different ages quoted; same sentiment but slightly different diction; etc.) are underlined.
Note: all links to AFOD lead to the Digital Quill archival, as Fanfiction.net has destroyed the formatting from 2001 and this still gets my goat. But the posting date at Digital Quill still predates Game Start by three years.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 1:
"You've got it, too, you know," he said abruptly.
"What?" Her voice was slightly muffled as she pulled a t-shirt over her head.
"The part."
She paused in the act of fastening her watch. "I'm only a freshman."
"Don't give me that crap, Sarah. You're amazing. Really."
Game Start, original version:
“You got it you know,” he was saying amiably. They were at their friend (and Anzu’s cousin) Honda’s house, babysitting his cousin, the infamous baby Chouji.
“What?” Her voice was slightly muffled as she pulled the hoodie off over her head now that it was successfully covered in spewed milk.
“The part.”
She paused smoothing out her hair before the mirror, her eyes on her own reflected ones. “I’m only a junior, Yuugi. Barro-sensei goes in order; upperclassman Myoko will get it.”
Yuugi folded his arms leaning over the mantle. “You shouldn’t talk that way about yourself, Anzu; you’re…amazing.” He looked away, embarrassed. “Really.”
Current version:
“I think you'll be all right,” he was saying amiably, to their earlier conversation. They were at their friend (and Anzu’s cousin) Honda’s house, babysitting his cousin, the infamous baby Chouji...who Jounouchi called behind "its" mother's back,
"Rose Mary's spawn."
It was a horrible thing to say, and one hundred percent accurate.
“What?” Anzu's voice was slightly muffled as she pulled the hoodie off over her head now that it was successfully covered in spewed milk.
“Your dance show," Yuugi winced at the dripping on the floor. He snatched a standby paper towel to mop of the splattering of white liquid over the kitchen floor. "You'll be...first string for the winter production, or whatever the saying is."
She paused smoothing out her hair before the little mirror next to the fridge, eyes on her own reflected ones. “I don't know, Yuugi. I'm trying, but Barro-sensei plays favorites. I keep having nightmares that Myoko-san will get it.”
Yuugi folded his arms leaning over the mantle while Anzu tried to feed Chouji peas instead. “You shouldn’t talk that way about yourself, Anzu; you’re…amazing.” He looked away, embarrassed. “Really.”
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
"It's morbid in here."
"It is not morbid!" Sarah exclaimed indignantly.
"Your side is."
"Just because I don't have beer and band posters, you think it's morbid."
Nikki lifted herself out of bed. She was wearing just a flannel shirt, buttoned crookedly, as she padded over to the opposite wall. "This one," tapping a poster with her finger, "is definitely spooky."
Sarah gave a small smile. She knew that Nikki wasn't really serious. But her roommate had a surprising protective streak inside her and she wanted Sarah to get out and experience life more. The only thing was, Sarah enjoyed her life as it was. She was never fond of huge parties where she didn't know anyone, or hanging out in clubs just to dance with complete strangers. Her world was small, but full -- talking for hours with a few friends, catching ice cream after late-night rehearsals, going with a group to see a film on the weekends. She didn't understand how Nikki would think she was lonely. But Sarah really liked Nikki, and so she played along with the semi-critical banter.
...
She shrugged. "Is that all?"
"Well, give me a bit," Nikki said, throwing herself back onto her bed.
Game Start, original version:
“Who’s an emo?” Yuugi said accusingly, narrowing his eyes as he turned his head on her, frowning.
Anzu grinned. She was wearing just a SPIRIT crop top, a little wrinkled from running around all day. But to Yuugi, Anzu always looked wonderful. “This,” she said, tapping the black shirt hiding under his uniform with her finger, “is definitely emo.”
Yuugi gave a small, amused smile. He knew that Anzu wasn't really serious. But his childhood friend had a surprisingly protective streak inside her and she wanted Yuugi to get out and experience life more. The only thing was, she guessed wrong that Yuugi didn’t enjoy his life as it was. On the contrary, he was never fond of huge, loud beer parties where he didn't know anyone, or hanging out in smoky clubs just to dance with complete strangers. His world was small, but warm: talking for hours with a few friends, catching ice cream after late-night tournaments, going with Anzu after her waitressing stint at Burger World to see a film on the weekends. He didn't understand how Anzu would think he was lonely.
But Anzu was so full of life, and Yuugi really loved her, and so he played along with the semi-critical banter.
“Hmph,” he said sophisticatedly, folding his arms over his chest in an attempt at a scowl. But his face was too friendly--too adorable--for it, and it only made her giggle again. “Anything else of my fragile ego you feel the life-threatening need to completely dismantle?”
“Give me a bit,” she poked him again.
Current version:
“Who’s an emo?” Yuugi said accusingly, narrowing his eyes as he turned his head on her, frowning.
Anzu grinned. She was wearing just a NOT MORE TEAM SPIRIT crop top, a little wrinkled from running around all day. But to Yuugi, Anzu always looked wonderful. “This,” she said, tapping the black shirt hiding under his uniform with her finger, “is definitely emo.”
Yuugi gave an amused roll of his eyes. She actually usually did similar comments like this: whether it was his hair, his posture, etc, but he knew Anzu didn't voice these things to intentionally hurt him. On the contrary she sometimes would suddenly decide that the world should know how likeable he was, and why he was so afraid to grab life by the horns. The only thing was, she guessed wrong that Yuugi didn’t enjoy his life as it was. On the contrary, he was never fond of huge, loud beer parties where he didn't know anyone, or racing motorcycles in death-defying stunts like Honda and Jounouchi were into. His world was small, but warm: chatting with lazy friends on the lawn after school while the trees swayed overhead, going to Burger World with Hanasaki after late-night gaming tournaments, hopping on the train with a few friends and exploring the city at random stops on weekends. He didn't understand how Anzu would think he was lonely.
But Anzu was so full of life, and besides the fact Yuugi really loved her, he admired her an trusted her, and so he played along the same way.
“Hmph,” he said sophisticatedly, folding his arms over his chest in an attempt at a scowl. But his face was too friendly--too adorable--for it, and it only made her giggle again. “Anything else of my fragile ego you feel the life-threatening need to completely dismantle?”
“Give me a bit,” she poked him again.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 1:
She frowned, digging one shoe into the floor. "That's just it. I was totally obsessed with the book when I was younger."
...
She grinned, abashed. "Well, I was a little older than that."
"How old?"
She squirmed. "Fifteen."
He raised his eyebrows. "Well. Highly nurtured imagination. Explains why you're such a good character actress."
Sarah laughed. "I know it sounds silly. But I really believed in that book. I was convinced it was real." She swung her feet absently, brooding. "I built an entire fantasy life on the idea that I was the heroine."
"Then what happened?"
"I grew out of it. Pretty quickly, in fact -- it's amazing how much you change between fifteen and eighteen, isn't it?
Game Start, original version:
Yuugi dug a finger into the mantle, face blank in memory. “I was totally obsessed with it when I was younger.”
...
"Okay, a little bit older than a little--"
She grinned wider.
“Anzu…”
“Tell me!”
“…Fourteen.”
“That’s not childish, Yuugi,” she said brightly. “That’s advanced imagination. This is only additional proof to my theory that everyone else besides us is too simple.”
...
“I know it sounds silly,” Anzu put her chin in her palm. “But like you with the story of the Puzzle, I really believed in that legend. I was convinced it was real.” He raised his gaze to the ceiling, brooding. “I built an entire fantasy life around an adventure against the Game King, and I was the heroine.”
“So who were you so stupid to wish away?” Yuugi teased.
She shoved him. “A minor detail I omitted in my daydreams. What about you? What happened to your Puzzle adventures?”
“Grew out of it. Pretty quickly, too. It’s amazing how much you change between fourteen and seventeen when you’re being shoved in lockers for rebelling against the standards of society.”
Current version:
“It was so not last year; I was a little kid back then!” Yuugi protested, looking determinedly at the wall.
“How young?”
"Okay, a little bit older than a little--"
She grinned wider.
“Anzu…”
“Tell me!”
“…Fourteen.”
“Bah. That’s not childish, Yuugi,” she said brightly. “That’s advanced imagination. This is only additional proof to my theory that everyone else besides us is too boring.”
...
“I know it sounds silly,” Anzu put her chin in her palm. “But like you with the story of the Puzzle, I really believed in that legend. I was convinced it was real. I built an entire fantasy life around an adventure against the Game King, and I was the beloved heroine.”
“So who were you so stupid to wish away?” Yuugi teased.
She shoved him lightly, mock-scowling. “A minor detail I omitted in my daydreams. What about you? What happened to your Puzzle adventures?”
“Grew out of it. Pretty quickly, too. It’s amazing how much you change between fourteen and seventeen when you’re being shoved in lockers for rebelling against the standards of society.”
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 1:
"How much do you know about legends?" The man asked abruptly.
Brian shrugged. "There's lots. They involve magic."
"No, they involve fear." Resting his elbows in the armrests, the man steepled his black-gloved fingers in front of his face. "All legends are based on fear. It's where they begin, how they evolve. In ancient times, what do you think the greatest fear was?"
Brian shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling uncomfortable with the history lesson. "I don't know... death?"
The stranger shook his head slowly. "Death was a part of everyday life. Men accepted the fact of their own death. They were content with it, expecting to live on through their children. And there is where their weak point lay."
"I don't follow."
"Children were extremely precious then, especially boy-children. There were black markets, slave trains. The greatest fear of a man's heart was coming home one day to find his sons had never returned home that evening, or that they would disappear from their beds in the middle of the night."
"Which is where the goblins come in," Brian said slowly, beginning to understand. The man nodded, once.
"Magical creatures with no other joy but to snatch those precious darlings from their wee little beds," he said softly, "In order to create more of their own." He shrugged elegantly. "An easy explanation, one for an all too common mystery."
Brian frowned. "But the king," he said hesitantly, "Why isn't he a goblin?"
"Aha." The man raised one finger. "You are quick. Goblins for the boys, a king..."
"For the girls," Brian finished in an admiring tone. "Damn."
"A king to seduce their daughters, to steal their hearts and bodies away from the home. Wives, too." The man sighed and let his hands drop, relaxing further into his seat. "The shape of the legends change, of course, as the world does. But belief is an amazingly powerful thing. And at the core, the stories are all the same."
Brian shook his head. "That's amazing. I never thought of it that way." He grinned. "I admit, I thought it was a rather silly tale. And that Sarah was an idiot for getting so into it -- course, she's cute like that."
Game Start, original version:
"Well," he said, holding up his prize in triumph before looking over at her, “How much do you know about legends, Anzu?”
She smiled dreamily. “Well, they usually involve magic, a knight, and akiss,” she winked, then sobered at his thoughtful expression instead of a blush. “Right?”
“Your explanation is better than the one Grandpa traumatized me with,” he confided. “He said they were about fear. What they birthed from, how they survived and evolved. In ancient times, what do you think the greatest fear was?"
Anzu entwined her fingers on her stomach, feeling uncomfortable with the history lessons Yuugi’s grandfather always talked about. Yuugi was right-they were usually creepier than Grimm fairytales. "I don't know…death?”
Yuugi shook his head slowly. “Death was a part of everyday life; men accepted the fact of their own death and didn't fight it. Remember the Black Plague and dying two days after getting a cold before proper medicine and all that? They were content with it, expecting to live on through their children. And there is where their weak point lay.”
Anzu leaned on the table, chin in her palm, and intent on Yuugi’s voice. “Oh…”
"Children were extremely precious then, especially boy-children. There were black markets, slave trains. The greatest fear of a man's heart was coming home one day to find his sons had never returned home that evening, or that they would disappear from their beds in the middle of the night.”
“Which is where thetwisted forms of the shadows come in," Anzu said slowly, beginning to understand. She looked at the dancing darkness surrounding the fireplace and shuddered. Her friend nodded absently, once.
“Magical creatures quietly darting from inescapable shadows with no other joy but to snatch their defenseless loved ones from their beds," he said softly, "In order to create even more of their own.” He shrugged. “Grandpa thought that was the reason for the Puzzle. A superstitious containment seal to lock away the darkness that was threatening.”
Anzu frowned. "But the king," she said hesitantly, "Why isn't he a monster?"
Yuugi raised a finger, grinning. “Think about it. Goblin-shadows for the boys, a king…”
“For the girls,” Anzu finished in an admiring tone, shaking her head in amusement remembering her own fantasies about the Game King.
“A king to seduce their daughters, steal their hearts and bodies away from the home. Wives, too.” Yuugi stroked the side of the Puzzle box absently. “The shape of the legends change, of course, as the world does. But belief is an amazingly powerful thing. And at the core, the stories are all the same.”
Anzu shook her head. “That's amazing. I never thought of it that way.” She grinned. "I admit, I thought it was a rather silly tale. You were just so into it I got caught up in it too-of course, you’re just cute like that.”
Current version:
"Well," he said, holding up his prize in triumph before finally looking over at her, “How much do you know about fairytales overall, Anzu?”
She smiled dreamily. “Well, they usually involve magic, a knight, and a kiss,” she winked, then sobered at his thoughtful expression instead of a blush. “Right?”
“Your explanation is better than the one Grandpa traumatized me with,” he confided. “He said they were about fear. What they birthed from, how they survived and evolved. Not Anderson's stuff: he scared me with stories about a doctor turning his daughter backwards on the bed so she wouldn't die, but death took him instead. That there were children being turned into donkeys, then shot by their oblivious parents. In stories like that, what do you think the greatest fear was?"
Anzu entwined her fingers on her stomach, feeling uncomfortable with the history lessons Yuugi’s grandfather always talked about. Yuugi was right - Grandpa had no sense of inappropriate child material, and what the old man made up was usually creepier than Grimm fairytales. "Well practically every horrible story would end with death, the mermaid vanished in the sea foam, the stepmother sent the kids in the empty forest for nuts --”
But Yuugi was shaking his head slowly. “Death was a part of everyday life. Remember the Black Plague and dying two days after getting a cold and all that angst? Instead, Grandpa told me it's where the phrase 'a parent should never outlive their child' became a more famous, common thing. So really, the greatest fear was more specifically losing what you loved most: your child.”
Anzu leaned on the table, chin in her palm, intent on Yuugi’s voice. “Oh…”
“I think it's just a natural thing. A parent's greatest fear is finding their son never walked through the door for dinner, or that they would wake up in the middle of the night and find them gone. Still happens, parents still pace and check fourteen times."
“The fear of the dark," Anzu added slowly, beginning to understand. She looked at the dancing shadows surrounding the fireplace and shuddered. When she was eight, Jounouchi had locked her in his creepy basement once as a joke; she'd thrashed him until he ran to his mother when she was done crying.
Her friend nodded absently, once, tapping the puzzle's sides. He shrugged. “Grandpa thought that was the reason for the Puzzle. A superstitious containment seal to lock away the darkness that was threatening.”
"What happened to the kids?"
"I dunno. Made more shadows? I don't think the king was a cuddly bear just trying to give them a better life."
Anzu frowned. "So why isn't he a monster? I distinctly remember Grandpa slapping his forehead when I asked why I should be afraid of someone who could top Brad Pitt."
Yuugi raised a finger, grinning. “Aw come on Anzu-san! Think about it. Shadows and the night for the boys, a king…”
“For the girls,” Anzu finished, shaking her head in amusement at her own fantasies about the Game King. Going through Sugoroku's trunks in the attic, finding rusted swords they could hardly lift; a veil she used to illustrate her dream wedding to the king while Yuugi tried not to fall asleep (or fall back down the ladder wobbling around with the ‘effing heavy’ sword).
She shook her head. “That's amazing. I never thought of it that way.” She grinned. "I admit, I thought it was kind of silly you never letting anyone else touch it, or even open it, when we were little. You were just so into it I got caught up in it too-of course, you’re just cute like that.”
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
What am I going to do about Brian?
Sarah didn't know what was wrong with her. It wasn't that she didn't like dating. She loved dancing with her boyfriends, heartily enjoyed kissing them, defied anyone to claim she wasn't as admiring and cuddly as any other girlfriend. But she just didn't understand the passion other people expressed. Boyfriends were fun. But that was it -- she didn't ever feel the need for more than that.
Game Start, original version:
What am I going to do?
She didn’t know where she stood anymore. Yuugi was the one person she never got all that annoyed with (and she got annoyed a lot). She liked dancing with him once she dragged him out on the dance floor, she liked using him as a human backboard when she had to vent and see what he threw back at her, they didn’t fight and Yuugi would definitely never cheat on her like some of her old boyfriends.
Her eyebrow raised as Chouji, cut off in mid-wail, flung his arms towards her. She picked him up and raised him from the crib, glancing back at the rocking chair in the corner before heading to it making cooing sounds.
And speaking of old boyfriend’s in general…
With them…it wasn’t that she wasn’t the typical admirable, cuddly girlfriend that mothers approved of, it wasn’t that her relationships ended on bad terms. She was the cuddly girlfriend; most of her exes still stopped her in the hallway to ask about her activities and hung out still. But there was no…oomph. No passion, no butterflies that movies and her other girlfriends sighed about.
Current version:
What am I going to do?
She didn’t know where she stood anymore. Yuugi was the one person she never got all that annoyed with (and she got annoyed a lot). She liked dancing with him once she dragged him out on the dance floor, she liked using him as a human backboard when she had to vent and see what he threw back at her, they didn’t fight and Yuugi would definitely never cheat on her like some of her old boyfriends.
Her eyebrow raised as Chouji, cut off in mid-wail, flung his arms towards her. Too caught up in her thoughts to be suspicious, she picked him up and raised him from the crib, glancing back at the rocking chair in the corner before heading to it making cooing sounds.
And speaking of old boyfriends in general…
With them…it wasn’t that she wasn’t the typical admirable, cuddly, cheerleading girlfriend that mothers approved of; it wasn’t that her relationships ended on bad terms. She was the cuddly girlfriend; they did end on smoother terms than most relationships. She still went to parties and rode home from games with exes without even an awkward moment.
But there was no…oomph. No passion, no butterflies that movies and her other girlfriends sighed about, no emotions that made you want to scream off the mountain tops I want to be with you forever.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
"Oh, come on, Sarah." Nikki turned her face away from the pillow, blowing errant strands of hair out of her face. "Drop the ice princess act for just one second and admit he looks like a very fuckable Jesus."
Sarah blinked. "I'm not sure he'd appreciate the comparison," she muttered.
Game Start, original version:
He was…a very molestable Jesus.
She sweat-dropped. And he would totally not appreciate that comparison, she winced.
Current version:
He was… a very tappable Jesus.
She sweat-dropped. And he would totally not appreciate that comparison, she winced.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
She sighed deeply. "And I really liked him. As a friend."
"Well, whatever you do, don't tell him that."
Game Start, original version:
Whatever you do, if you want to fix this at all, do NOT give the ‘I love you…as a friend’ speech, she told herself sternly.
Current version:
(unchanged)
[This one is pretty thin, given the popularity of the phrase/concept. But considering the context and placement of the sentiment across fics, it still makes me uncomfortable.]
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 1:
All at once, the theater went dark.
Game Start, original version:
She only knew over those high-pitched, drooling wails that suddenly, all at once, the power in the entire house went out.
Current Version:
She only knew as she fought to control herself against those high-pitched, drooling wails, that suddenly, all at once, the power in the entire house cut off.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
Sarah stepped inside the building, letting the door swing shut. And it hit her -- the theater smelled strange. It was a dry, earthy scent... it reminded her of old clothes and toys left in the attic, but also of damp forests and dust. It was distinctive. She knew she'd remember what it was in just a second, it was right there at the edge of her memory--
Goblins.
The breath left her body and she slumped against the doors, shaken. She could feel her heart beating in her mouth, fingers clutching convulsively at the handlebar. Searching for something, anything, solid to hold on to. Something real.
She stood there for a few minutes, breathing heavily. This is a dream, she thought distractedly. I'm asleep in my room. Nikki's snoring. Again. She calmed herself slowly, gathering her thoughts. You're playing tricks on yourself, Sarah, she thought angrily. That stupid play has gotten you thinking about this stuff again, and it's stupid. Goblins aren't real.
She leaned over to the socket, flipping one of the switches to the house lights. Nothing. She tried another, and another, but they were all dead. She could feel panic rising in a scream.
Stop it! she ordered herself. Stop scaring yourself! But she couldn't escape the feeling of déjà vu... Déjà fait, she thought, absent-minded. Then shook her head violently. STOP IT! You made that up when you were fifteen and incredibly lonely! It. Was. A. Fantasy. Toby wasn't snatched away by goblins. Because goblins don't exist. Goblin cities don't exist. And, most importantly, most especially, Goblin Kings do not, have not, and will not ever--
"Hello, Sarah."
Game Start, original version:
The smell hit her-the room smelled strange too. It was a dry, earthy scent; it reminded her of old clothes and toys left in the attic, but also…of damp forests and dust, of closed off caves and wet rocks. And at the same time, wet sand, water, ocean. Wind. It was distinctive.
It was as if everything she had seen darting past (whatever the things were…and she didn’t want to know), the shaking of the crib and dressers and toys, had been wiped clean.
The absence, her stomach clenched, of Chouji’s piercing wails was enough to make her faint, if she was in the right frame of mind to be that sort of person. As it was, her brain had taken a flight to the moon-she could not process, could not fathom what was goin-no!
Anzu stared at the crib in a trance. Behind her, she felt Yuugi tense in the too-normal, too-wrong, too-quiet of the room, and heard him hesitantly flip the light switch on and off. [This is similar, but in both instances it's a direct homage to a similar moment in the movie Labyrinth.]
Nothing.
NOTHING! She wanted to scream inside against her paralyzed lips. She stared at the crib. She raised her arm.
...
“Yu-Yuuuugi…” she stuttered. I’m asleep in the rocking chair. Chouji’s cries will wake me up. Yuugi’s downstairs and he’ll do that Yuugi thing that make kids leech on his legs and make them laugh and stop crying OMIGOD CHOUJI PLEASE START CRYING AND COME BACK! This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This can’t possibly be-
“Anzu.”
Current version:
The smell hit her-the makeshift baby beroom smelled strange. It reminded her of damp forests and dust, of closed off caves and wet rocks. (It's because it's raining outside. The window's closed, but it's raining. That's all.) And at the same time, dry sand, frosted leaves. Autumn wind. All of it so different, so contrasting, and yet impossibly together.
Then it was as if everything she had seen darting past (whatever the things were…and she didn’t want to know), the shaking of the crib and dressers and toys, had been wiped clean.
The absence, her stomach clenched, of Chouji’s piercing wails was enough to make her faint, if she was in the right frame of mind to be that sort of person. As it was, her brain had taken a flight to the moon-she could not process, could not fathom what was goin-no!
Anzu stared at the crib in a trance. Behind her, she felt Yuugi tense in the too-normal, too-wrong, too-quiet of the room, and heard him hesitantly flip the light switch on and off.
Nothing.
NOTHING! She wanted to scream inside against her paralyzed lips. She stared at the crib. She raised her arm.
...
“Yu-Yuuuugi…” she stuttered. I’m asleep in the rocking chair. Chouji’s cries will wake me up. Yuugi’s downstairs and he’ll do that Yuugi thing that make kids leech on his legs and make them laugh and stop crying OMIGOD CHOUJI PLEASE START CRYING AND COME BACK! This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This can’t possibly be-
“Anzu.”
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 1:
The man raised the brim of his hat slightly, and Brian stared. The face was strangely compelling: all sharp, clean angles. It should have been unattractive, but some line of the mouth or jaw had kept it from being so. Instead the face had a kind of cruel beauty.
...
In the audience, the man slowly pushed his hat back over his head. Pale hair fell roughly to his shoulders. Brian could see his face clearly now, and could believe the man's claims of playing Jareth. It was the eyes. Framed by long strands of
wheat-gold, they glittered with a strange knowledge. Perfect, Brian thought to himself, for playing a character that has spent eternity among other people's dreams.
Game Start, original version:
It was the eyes that had her so frozen, had her so pinned and immobile and useless. Framed by strands of gold, they bore into her with a strange knowledge, strange power…and blood. It was dark, but in her mind, like he was inside her head, blood. Blood, deep, dangerous and…
Perfect, Anzu thought deliriously to herself, This is the image Sugoroku was trying to explain to Yuugi, when he spoke of a creature spending eternity among other people’s dreams and darkness (no, no, that couldn’t be, this wasn’t happening). The face surrounding those eyes was strangely compelling: all sharp, clean, harsh angles.
It should have been unattractive, but some line of the mouth or jaw (or those eyes) had kept it from being so. Instead the face resulted in the cruelest, most intense of beauty reserved for the powerful, the beautiful, the royal, the ancient.
Current version:
It was the eyes that had her so frozen, had her so pinned and immobile and useless. Framed by strands of gold, they bore into her with a strange knowledge, strange power…and blood. It was dark, but in her mind, like he was inside her head, blood. Blood eyes, deep, dangerous and…
Perfect, Anzu thought deliriously to herself, This is the image Sugoroku was trying to explain to Yuugi, when he spoke of a creature spending eternity among other people’s never ending shadows and darkness (no, no, that couldn’t be, this wasn’t happening). The face surrounding those eyes was all sharp, all harsh angles. It should have been unattractive, but those slanted eyes had kept it from being so. It resulted in the cruelest, most intense of faces, reserved for the powerful, the royal, the ancient.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
He was on the stage, of course. His feet were braced a shoulder's width apart, encased in long, elegant boots. There was some kind of armor on his chest -- something steely-gray and yet strangely iridescent, the spotlight picking up subtle blues and purples in the textured metal. A dark cape hung from his shoulders, and it was as if the shadows themselves had peeled away from the walls to ripple around his body, as fluid as blood. His arms were crossed in front of him, waiting, slightly impatient for her response. He smiled at her, the same one-sided mocking grin. And a single arched eyebrow, like an upswept owl's wing.
It was hideously reminiscent of the first time she had seen him (as the truth of the meeting she could no longer deny to herself). He always made her felt this way -- grungy, awkward, and pathetic. Powerless.
Game Start, original version:
His feet were shoulder width apart when he came into the barest of light through the clouded window; she heard the click of black boots on the wooden floor before he’d stopped before the crib. His arms were at his sides, yet tense enough to be prepared to strike her down. He was in all black, as if when he’d stepped away from the shadow-clung walls he’d torn them away with his movement and they’d clung to his body instead like a second skin, creating the effect that his head was floating had it not been for the window to define him.
His face was cold, his body language condescending, short, and mocking. It make her feel grungy, awkward, coltish and stupid, and she clung to Yuugi’s hand on her shoulder without fully comprehending her friend was still there as those eyes drove through her soul.
Current version:
(unchanged)
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 2:
"Deal." He grinned, flashing sharp teeth, and tossed the bauble in the air. Without thinking she lunged for it, stretching to save its fragility from crashing down to earth. He raised his arms as she moved, letting the cape fly into the air like the wings of some monstrous dark bird--
--and she was back on the hillside again, where she had stood three years ago after begging for Toby to be stolen away. The Labyrinth lay before her.
Game Start, original version:
“Hn.” The Game King raised his arms and snapped his fingers. Anzu’s grip on Yuugi’s hand tightened as the shadows flew from the walls and stretched over them like some monstrous dark dragon’s wings violently ripping away the bedroom-
-and they were on the ground of a brown, grassy hillside.
Current version:
“Hn.” The Game King raised his arms and snapped his fingers. Anzu’s grip on Yuugi’s hand tightened as the shadows flew from the walls and flew to cover them like some monstrous dark dragon’s wings violently ripping away the bedroom and crush them-
-and they were on the ground of a hillside, covered with bones, hard earth, and dead grass.
A Forfeit of Dreams, Chapter 3
The dusty landscape burned with the late afternoon sun overhead, just as before. The Labyrinth itself seemed to writhe like a living thing as its twisted pathways coursed over the ground, like before. Sarah could even -- if she squinted her eyes -- make out the low, flowering bushes that lined the outer wall, which Hoggle had been tending when they first met. But something, something...
"Why is it different?" she whispered to herself.
"Because you are different."
Sarah jumped. She had forgotten about Jareth entirely in her sudden confusion. He gave her a bitter smile, as if he knew it, before continuing.
"You didn't think the Labyrinth was an unchanging entity, did you? It wouldn't claim so very many victims if it were. It's a personal challenge to everyone that enters its walls, reflecting their dreams and fears." Jareth leaned back easily against one of the barren, twisted trees that covered the land outside the Labyrinth. The rich sunlight caught on its cobwebbed limbs, and he was a dark shadow against the glittering beauty.
Game Start, original version:
The dusty landscape burned with the late afternoon sun overhead, a hot, dead, airless wind shot in various directions all around them, picking up her hair and biting her cheeks. Beneath their young, wide eyes the labyrinth itself seemed to writhe like a living god as it twisted in a vast expanse of diverging, crumbling walls and pathways coursing over the ground. Anzu could even-if she squinted her eyes-make out low, flowering bushes that lined the outer stone walls at the entrance.
...
Anzu jumped. She had forgotten about the Game King entirely in her sudden confusion. He looked at her as if she knew what she was thinking. An even look with his beautiful eyes, he was a dark, crackling shadow of power leaning against a dead tree, before continuing: “Know this: There is a reason the Puzzle was sealed to prevent summoning the Dark Game. It is a personal challenge to everyone that enters its walls, reflecting their deepest dreams and deepest fears.” He stepped away from it; they tensed as he stopped three feet from them.
“It wouldn't claim so very many victims otherwise." He unfolded an arm to gesture the dead tree.
Current version:
The dusty landscape burned with the late afternoon sun overhead, a hot, dead, airless wind shot in various directions all around them, picking up their hair and biting their cheeks. Beneath their young, wide eyes the labyrinth itself seemed to writhe like a living god as it twisted, raised, and lowered in a vast expanse of diverging, crumbling walls and pathways snaking over a landscape: wild lands, water, desert, stone.
...
Anzu jumped. She had forgotten about the Game King entirely in her sudden confusion. He looked at her as if she knew what she was thinking. An even look with his beautiful eyes, and exotic skin: he was a dark, crackling shadow of power leaning against a dead tree, before continuing: “Know this: There is a reason the Puzzle was sealed to prevent summoning the Dark Game. It is a personal challenge to everyone that enters its walls, reflecting their deepest dreams and deepest fears.” He stepped away from it; they tensed as he stopped three feet from them.
“It wouldn't claim so very many victims otherwise." He unfolded an arm to gesture the dead tree.
Apologies if I overstepped the bounds with excessive examples/highlights -- it helped me work through my frustration, but it might be overkill.
I haven't contacted llivla since 2008, and I have not contacted the admin at Fanfiction.net. Despite my anger and frustration I really don't know where this case lies. The original version seems a clear-cut case of theft, but with the changes I'm not sure if it's true plagiarism or just lazy writing which ignores the spirit of my request. I welcome any advice on what to do next.