Author's Note: …I know I said I was done with fanfiction, but I also said I would do this one day, and even if there's absolutely no audience for it, I can't help it. I know it's crack. I accept it's crack. I know it'll probably suck in the long run. I might not even finish it, as my record of finishing things, well, sucks. BUT NOT KNOWING IS HALF THE FUN. Or something like that. :3

Enjoy the crack. It's the only one of its kind, so far as I can tell. And if it isn't? Please point me in the direction of the rest.

Notes: Takes place after the attack on Hyda IV. Possibly could be considered AU. Gonnella/Quantestorie. Written sometime around 12:00 - 2:30 in the morning. Contains swearing. Rating could change. Seventy-eight percent crack.

Surviving Survival

Chapter One: I Hope This is Mud

By LeFox

Trees. That had been the first thing he'd noticed - he was surrounded by trees. Not the carefully pruned or artistically grown trees one usually saw in this day and age, either. That was not a good sign. There were a lot of bugs around; that was the second thing he noticed. And they were huge bugs. That was also not a good sign. There was a fine mist obscuring the tops of the trees, and the trees were tall, with moss and ivy hanging heavy from the branches. Exotic birds flew overhead, letting out bloodcurdling cries. Some other animals leapt from tree branch to tree branch, and a few of them stopped to peer down at him. And through all of this, the clown simply lied flat on his back in what he hoped was mud, staring up at the treetops, animals, birds, moss, ivy, mist, and enormous bugs.

The foremost thought in his mind was something to the effect of, I'm alive. I survived. I got out in time.

The second thought, he felt, was much more appropriate. The second thought was, Where the hell am I?

The third, if the reader was wondering, was I hope this is mud.

It had been a nightmare inside a nightmare, and each moment had been somehow worse than the one before it. Gonnella closed his eyes, shutting out the latest scene in this nightmare. …Now, if only the insects and animals would shut up, this might actually be peaceful. He could use a little peace. He hadn't had peace since… well, since Hyda. And while that hadn't really been that long ago, the chaos between then and now made it feel like it'd been an eternity.

First, there was the attack. That had seemed pretty damn bad at the time, and sure, maybe it was the worst part of all. It was the cause of all that followed. The Vendeeni. Stupid Vendeeni. He hated the Vendeeni. Gonnella growled a little, though the sound was drowned out by the screaming insects and birds. He growled a little louder. He decided he hated the insects and birds, too, though perhaps not as much as the Vendeeni. They had ruined what might have turned out to be a nice half-vacation - they'd only had two shows the whole week, and the rest of the days were free. Gonnella had planned on spending those days lounging at the beach, playing games, and most of all, relaxing. No more work (or rather, no more coming up with clever schemes to get out of work, as the case may be, but who was keeping track?); just a few days of rest and relaxation. Dream come true.

Stupid Vendeeni.

After the attack, it had been the evacuation center, and the Helre after that. Too cramped, too crowded, too much panic, too much worry. It wasn't in Gonnella's nature to worry about anything for very long, and he wasn't necessarily what most people would call compassionate. Not that he hadn't tried to be comforting when that blue-haired boy showed up, complaining that his parents hadn't arrived. Gonnella had tried to offer some words of comfort, some sort of silver lining. It was just that every word that popped out of his mouth came out wrong, and he just couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut. And the more he talked, the worse things got, and… well, he was glad the other members of the Troupe had been there to gloss over his idiotic outbursts. As usual.

The others. Gonnella's eyes shot open again, as his heart clenched somewhere around his stomach, and his stomach leapt to his throat. The other members of the Rossetti Troupe - had they survived, as well? Were they somewhere around here? They'd all left at once, hoping to stick together… surely the others couldn't be far. The pods were supposed to go to the same general place, weren't they? The Helre personnel had assured them that all of the escape pods were meant to land on the same planet, even if they landed in different locations at different times. Surely, surely the others were nearby, and in one piece. Although… Gonnella sat up slowly, looking toward what was left of his own escape pod. The thing had slammed into one of the massive trees, uprooting the tree a bit, smashing the small ship. The impact had thrown Gonnella into the suspiciously soft mud - otherwise, he might have broken something. Probably his back; maybe his neck; maybe his skull. That might have been unpleasant.

The clown sighed, surveying the damage. The pod wouldn't fly again; that was certain. There was no "repairing" the ship; even if Gonnella knew the first thing about fixing things like this (he had never bothered learning how to repair machinery; seemed like too much work), it was obvious it was damaged beyond repair. Even the distress signal had stopped transmitting. Not that it would've done much good out here. Gonnella glared up at the thick canopy of tree branches above him.

He had been on this planet for all of thirty minutes, and he already knew he hated it. The sooner he found the others and got the hell away from here, the better.

But where to start looking? He looked around at his surroundings, his heart sinking all over again. In every direction, there was jungle - dense, dark, dangerous jungle. Gonnella was not an explorer. Gonnella got lost in a straight hallway, with flashing arrows and a neon sign reading "Go here, dumbass" in bright pink letters. Gonnella wasn't sure he wanted to attempt the jungle exploration thing; maybe it would be easier to let them look for him. After all, his escape pod was sending quite a bit of smoke into the air; maybe they'd be able to see it. Never mind that there was already mist from the jungle everywhere, and the trees and brush were so thick they wouldn't be able to see him anyway; none of that was important.

"Hello," he called, his voice sounding oddly hollow in the now strangely quiet jungle. The insects and birds still called, but the sounds had faded to the back of his mind now, leaving only silence. He hated that silence. He wasn't used to silence. With a deep breath, Gonnella cleared his throat, and tried again. "Hello!" he called, louder this time, letting his voice echo through the trees.

No answer. Only echoes.

An odd chill crept down his spine. Maybe they're just further away, he thought, struggling not to panic. He hadn't panicked when Hyda was attacked; surely he could keep his cool now. They were just too far away to hear his voice. That was all. He just needed to try a little louder.

Deep breath. Let it out. Deeper breath. Let it out, too. His heart was beating in his throat. Ignore it. Deep breath. Deeper. Now.

"HELLO!" he yelled as loudly as he could, and the birds in the trees took flight, screaming as they went. Gonnella waited in silence, his heart pounding in his ears, anxiety beginning to creep over his entire being. Several long minutes ticked by in that silence. After the first minute, Gonnella became aware of the fact that his hands were trembling. And then his knees started shaking. And then his entire body was trembling, as terror swept over him. Was he… all alone? Alone, in the jungle, with a broken distress signal? How was he going to survive? He'd never had to survive by himself before; even in the old days. And he wasn't the same guy he had been back then. He'd gone soft. He'd gotten used to having Piccolotto, Dulcinea, Ursus, Quantestorie, and Peppita around to help out. He didn't have to do anything by himself… if, in fact, he ever had to do anything; he could usually get out of it.

Gonnella was alone in the middle of a jungle. He took a moment to process this… until several seconds later, when a voice met his ears. It was vague; so vague he couldn't quite make out exactly what the other person was saying, but he knew the voice. Gonnella began to laugh, taking a few steps toward where he thought the voice was coming from (he wasn't quite sure; the jungle distorted the direction - it could be coming from anywhere). "Over here," he called, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound. The voice came again, closer this time, but still fuzzy: "I'm here."

This exchange went on for several minutes; this calling back and forth business. It got no more interesting as the time passed, though the man's relief grew with each passing second. Gradually, he even began moving toward the voice, reaching out foolishly with one hand as if to grab on to the voice and pull himself toward its source, until finally, the speaker came into view.

Gonnella was never one to be sensitive. So, when Gonnella saw his companion and fellow Troupe member, he wasn't going to lie to himself: Quantestorie looked terrible.

It was fairly obvious the Alphalian had been wandering aimlessly in the jungle for however long they'd been there (it must have been an hour by now; maybe a few minutes longer). Twigs and leaves had broken off and gotten snagged in the man's light brown hair, and though his ponytail made a valiant effort to stay in place, most of his hair had been tugged free. There were scrapes everywhere skin was exposed - his hands, his face, even his neck; places where branches and brush had grazed Quantestorie's pale skin, leaving angry red welts. He had gained several bruises here and there, and the sash he typically wore around his waist had been secured around his arm, possibly as a makeshift bandage. Evidence of a rough landing, perhaps. And as he set eyes on Gonnella, for once, the long-winded storyteller seemed speechless. And so, for that matter, was Gonnella.

All the latter managed was a small squeak (it may have been "eh," if he had slowed down long enough to fully form the word), before breaking into a jog, dashing his way over to Quantestorie, fully intending to stop before colliding with the man but somehow unable to do so. He threw his arms around the startled man in a fit of relief, sending the both of them to the ground.

"Oh, man," Gonnella murmured, looking down at his new companion in this godforsaken jungle. "I dunno about you, but I hope this is mud." He grinned.

Quantestorie grimaced. "I can assure you beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt, my dear friend, that it is not."

Author's Note: Okay, so it's off to a rough start, but it might get better! You never know. After all, this one was written during those late-night-early-morning hours where it's really a bad idea to do much of anything that doesn't involve drinking, sex, or killing things. 'Til next time, if indeed there is a next time, this is LeFox, signing off. And getting her ass to bed.