Author's Note: Ja ja, I decided to change some plotness and crud from a story I wrote a while back, but only just started posting on websites… I ended up disliking it. Intensely. That's the last time I write at 4 o'clock in the morning. Hopefully this will turn out much, much better. Once again, I have no clue what pairings will occur. Oh well. We shall see, I suppose. (Smiles) The other fiction was basically an RP me and a friend were in once upon a time… (She's too shy to post things or take credit, bless her :X MISS YOU GIRL!) This one is fundamentally just I and I alone. Damn my changing heart when it comes to fandoms. (Sighs) Well, here we go sweeties.
Disclaimer – The Gorillaz belong to Jamie Hewlett and whoever else owns them, ha. The song featured in this opening chapter is called 'Naraku no Hana' by Shimamiya Eiko.
I only own Frances and the plot. (For now… Mua ha ha…)
C'mon, let's forget that the future
Will be smeared in blood again
If the tepid wind winds in coils
It's probably a sign
---
Silk. Satin beneath small, dainty fingers. The texture of the cloth could have been the skin. The silk enveloped the frame of the body, as did the skin. Both were soft, pleasant to the touch, both were of worth and value. They were not alike. The silk slid uneasily, escaping through the hands grip as if it were water, cold and elusive. The skin remained, warm, comforting. There was no comparison, and the hands rejected the material, curling up into fists. Noises could be vaguely heard outside the cushioned prison; muffled voices, exclamatory, their tones nervous and high pitched. Were they talking about the precious one encased in the luxury? Maybe, maybe not. Shifting with a rustle, bringing up their knees, eyes opened dimly. It did little to help them understand the situation; but rather raise a foggy sort of panic up in their chest. It was dark. Touch alone served as the singular sense to provide a vision of the situation, and the hands shakily patted along the surface around them. Lying down… Four walls, a box, perhaps? The hands then traveled over the body they were attached to; exploring the folds and lace of the clothes that lay there. A dress, elaborate, patterns stitched across it in a dancing, swirling motion. It felt as though it were moving, even though it's owner was impeccably still.
A rustle of fabric, and her hands traced over her face. Smooth skin greeted her once more, thick eyelashes, pouted lips, slightly cracked from the breaths she had drawn in her sleep. She turned her attention to her hair, intertwining the curled strands around her thumbs, creating vivid patterns of her own, cobwebs stretching across the prison. It was a simple, yet ingenious activity that made her think despite herself, the cogs slowly creaking into life inside her mind. The questioning of the bizarre situation began, yet it wasn't panic she felt. Rather, she was curious. Sadistically curious.
Was she, perhaps, an expensive doll that was being delivered to a crazed collector, and this box was merely just a way of keeping her intact? Was she someone of high importance, being smuggled out of her country before a war began? Probably not, but it was nice to lose oneself in delusions of grandeur from time to time. Absorbed in her fantasies, she became still once more, attempting to shut out the muffled voices, which were beginning to fade. She didn't need their help. She would be fine, here in her case, oblivious to the world. Her temporarily sightless eyes slid shut once more, the overwhelming sense of tiredness claiming her body. Her questions could wait. She didn't have time to give anything her attention. It was too precious, and belonged to no one else; even herself. Lulling into a state of subconscious defence, she curled into a ball with difficultly, twisting her body to the side, like a crumpled puppet that had been shoved far too quickly into a drawer of some kind. In her almost catatonic state, she stared blandly at the backs of her eyelids, when something happened.
Something actually happened.
It didn't feel like much at first, but there was definitely something. A slight bang, a curse, and suddenly, she was floating upon the silk. It felt as if it were a cloud swaying uncertainly beneath her, evaporating with short, shuddering sighs. At first, she was terrified she would fall straight through and tumble down through the sky. Was she dead? Biting down on her bottom lip told her otherwise, and she nursed the bleeding tissue with her tongue tenderly as the jerky movement continued. She attempted to take a more logical angle, and listening to the curses outside, made a vague guess.
She was being carried somewhere.
The grunt of 'This thing is bloody heavy' revealed that. Thing?! That was rude. Blotting out the incessant chatter again, she awaited the movement when her world would touch down to the ground again, with growing, sulky impatience. A gentle pressure beneath her signaled the drop, and she instinctively covered her ears as she fell with a bang. Dully irritated by her carrier's rough handling, she groaned inaudibly at the throbbing of her stiff limbs. The excitement was over, and the cloud of peace settled down once more. She guessed that around five minutes had passed before she had begun to drift off to the land of nod, still in the same, twisted position, yet felt comfortable within herself.
---
Dash out, dash out
From your far too sad destiny
You're not the flower of hell
At such a place
Don't bloom, don't bloom
You mustn't get caught
---
There was nothing better in the morning than waking up to find a bottle of lager next to your face. That, and having aspirin within arms reach. It was genius. 2D flailed about lamely as he groped for the precious bottle, being careful not to knock over the alcohol next to him. Squinting oddly, he managed to grasp his target in his left hand, before clumsily letting it slip through his long fingers. With a strangled noise of surprise, he tumbled straight off the bed with the covers wrapped around his legs, smacking into the carpeted cement floor with a dull thud.
"Oww…"
He groaned quietly, squinting. Now he'd lost his aspirin in the tangled mess of his limbs and the bed sheets, and worst of all, the tumble had caused his head to feel like it had just been used as a battering ram. Scrambling frantically and emitting zombie like-moans, he ended up further ensnaring himself, sighing with discontent.
Not once did it occur to him that if he actually let the sheet go, then it might solve the problem…
Wriggling himself across the floor like a drunken caterpillar, he managed to slither over to a large pile of painkillers, and dunked his face into the pile of pills. Snagging his bottom two teeth and top gum onto a capsule, he retreated with his prize, swaying before flopping down onto his side, mouth chomping down as a reflex…
The capsule exploded in his face, the white powder shooting up his nose and into his mouth, causing him to splutter and cry out in disgust.
"ARHH! THIS TASTES WELL 'ORRIBLE!"
He screamed (to no one in particular) and began to sneeze uncontrollably.
THIS WAS THE WORST MORNING EVER.
…
Though he'd probably forget it by dinner.
---
The pieces of time flutter about soundlessly
---
BANG. A torrent of punches fell upon the helpless, reddened victim. A final kick and it was done. It exploded it a flurry of foam and fluff, bursting straight across the wooden floors, forming messy piles around Noodle's feet. Well… Maybe she did overdo it, a little… Letting out a small sigh, she scooped up the remnants of the punching bag and shoved them in her panda shaped bin with great difficultly, having to push them down with her bare foot. This was the third one this month… Sucking in a short breath, she brushed her fringe out of her eyes quickly, before placing her hands on her hips.
It was decidedly odd. Something had been bothering her recently, but she couldn't quite figure out what it was. She was jumpy- a rare occurrence for her- and the air felt musty, almost as if something were stirring in the building, something was getting excited. She didn't know what, but it was unnerving. She had never liked Kong Studios in the first place; the zombie outbreak that she had taken care of had definitely influenced her opinion, but it was still her home. Despite the bad karma that reeked from its walls, the decrepit building was where she belonged, and she refused to budge. She almost wanted to charge down into the bunker, katana in hand, and attempt to find the cause of the dark vibes, but she knew it would be a fruitless expedition. The studios were haunted, and would always be haunted.
Dusting down the front of her striped top, she crossed over to her door and slipped on her sandals. There was no point staying in her room in her current frame of mind- more things would end up broken, and she didn't want her poor game boy to be victimized.
She opened her door carefully, peering out into the corridor beyond. First, she looked to the right. The door was closed, as per usual. Was she expecting anything else anyway? Next, to the right. Everything appeared normal, but… What on earth was outside Russel's room? Walking over to the foreign object placed upon the floor, Noodle crouched down to get a better view in the somewhat dim corridor. A black, polished box. It looked expensive, and was big- bigger than Noodle herself. It almost resembled a coffin, spread out onto the floor like that, and a sense of dread welled up in the Japanese guitarists chest. Why was it outside Russel's room?! Was he having another one of those episodes again? A million questions swarmed through her head as she carefully stepped over the coffin to the door, rapping on it sharply.
"Russel-san?"
"Baby girl, is that you?" His usually calm voice came out in short, sharp tones. Something was definitely wrong.
"Hai… What is this outside your door?" She questioned bluntly. There was no point pussy footing around the situation, she supposed.
"… It came in the mail."
Came in the mail?!
"A coffin came in the mail for you, Russel-san?"
Silence. Perhaps that was a little bit too blunt of the axe princess. Sighing, she looked back to the omen on the floor. Russel most likely had dropped it in shock and barricaded himself in his room, thinking that the grim reaper had sent it or something like that.
"I'll take it from outside your door, okay?" Noodle spoke one more before gripping a golden handle present at the top of the case. Even with her formidable strength, it was a strain to drag it down to the lift, and even more effort to try and fit it in there. She ended up having to push it upright, so that it teetered unsteadily when the lift began to move. Clasping her arms around it in a sort of awkward hugging motion, she wobbled along with it, buffeted back and forth into the steel walls. That would probably bruise…
---
Who is gripping onto my hand?
Who is stroking my hair?
Just now, I was crying; within the sapling
I feel a sign
Jump over, jump over
From the gears of destiny
You're not the flower of hell
At such a place
Don't scatter, don't scatter
And don't leave behind a seed
If it sprouts, then karma will cycle again
---
'IT'S DARE!!' The familiar voice of Shaun boomed as Noodle reached the lobby, and not a moment too soon, for she felt ready to drop the box at any moment. Letting it fall out of the lift, she began to drag it once more, heading for…
"Uhh…"
The teenager froze in her tracks as a hideous noise emitted from her baggage, and she released the handle with a clatter, staring at it in shock. Maybe… Maybe someone had sent Russel a zombie, as a sick joke… A strange feeling rose up in Noodle as she gazed around for an object to use as a weapon. She would dispose of the threat before it had any chance to harm her 'family', if it was a threat… Picking up a pipe that she found in a corner of the lobby (God knows how it got there) her spare hand slowly crept towards the coffin lid, ready to lift it aside…
"Wot've you got there, love?"
Upon hearing the rasping voice of Murdoc, Noodle sprang a foot into the air, pipe raised.
"GAH! M-Murdoc-san?!" She span around on her heel to face the bassist in all his boozehound glory. He reeked of alcohol, and she wrinkled her nose slightly as a reflex. Murdoc blinked slightly, scratching the back of his neck, clearly not bothered by her reaction, and the fact that she was brandishing a pipe.
"Someone die? 2D? Please tell me it's-"
"No, Russel-san got this in the mail, and I, umm, thought I'd look at it myself."
"Russel got a bloody coffin in the mail?! Let's 'ave a look…"
He leant over the object precariously, the tip of his inverted cross just touching the lid. After a quick observation, he chuckled.
"Good quality, this… Shall we take a look inside, then?"
Noodle tightened her grip on the pipe with both hands and nodded briefly, partly glad that Murdoc had showed up to open it instead of her. .
"Hai."
Just as he placed his nicotine hands upon a clasp on the coffin's side, a loud bang and shuffling was heard from the right hand corridor. Both heads turned instinctively, to see 2D stumbling through the lift, bucket stuck on his left foot, a dumbfounded expression on his features. Nothing new. The attention focused once again on the mysterious box, and 2D was ignored as he clattered over, bending slightly to bring his tall frame more to their level.
"Wot you doing?"
"Opening this, 2D-san?"
"Wot is it?"
"It's a coffin, dullard."
"Omigod! Did Russel die?! Isn't that coffin a bit too small for 'im or summfink?"
"No, he didn't. He got this in the mail. We're going to look inside it, because Russel-san is scared." Noodle nodded at her own summary, and the blue haired man squinted, scratching his chin.
"So, like… Wot's this, then?"
"I TOLD you already, faceache, it's a COF-"
"Not that!" 2D whined, bracing himself slightly for a hit. "That fing hangin' off the side!" He pointed one of his long, shaking fingers towards a small card dangling off one of the handles on the coffin. Murdoc snapped his hand around to rip it off bluntly, looking down his nose to attempt to read the ornate writing on it.
"… Noodle love, I can't see straight, you read it." As he was crouched down, the girl merely peered over his shoulder to see, and 2D squatted to use his other shoulder as a viewpoint.
"It looks like one o' those fings those guys down at KFC wear…" Surprisingly, 2D had hit the nail on the head with that comment. Just like the little nametags present on those ridiculously bright uniforms, it had an enthusiastic 'HELLO! My name is…' printed in bold letters at the top, a tacky presentation of self identification.
"Hello… My name is Frances… Please take good care of me, I'm low maintenance and only require, umm, feeding and watering everyday. I would also like a clean bed to sleep in, and possibly a toothbrush. Thank you, dear patron." Noodle trailed off.
"OH OH! IT'S A PUPPY!" 2D exclaimed excitedly, earning himself a slap across the head.
"Moron! Oh hell, I'll just open it and get it over with…" Murdoc grumbled, and both band members behind him tensed, letting out small, almost inaudible noises. Undoing the clasps, they watched with bated breath as the lid creaked obscurely, and was slowly lifted away, shoved roughly to one side. There was a small silence, before the greasy haired man shifted slightly, voice slightly gruffer than usual, unhidden glee present in his tone.
"Well… I, uhh… Think I'll take responsibility for this package, ahr har har…"
"NO."
---
Dash out, dash out
From your far too sad destiny
You're not the flower of hell
At such a place
Don't bloom, don't bloom
You mustn't get caught
The pieces of time flutter about soundlessly
Author's Note: Eh, well, here's the beginning of the revision… Fairly pleased with how this turned out, though I'm sorry for the ridiculously cheesy ending… XD I hope to continue this fanfic for a long time, so please review? (Bows)