In a big, wide world there is a land called Aaa, a land of fantastic things.
In the land of Aaa there is a valley of wicked, shadowy red mountains strewn with the remnants of the World Before War.
In one of these mountains there is a cave.
(The face of which by some is said to have been the very one of a giant demon who died and fossilized into rock.)
In this cave there is a house, a quaint relic from before the War, dark and gray, yet clean and well-kept.
In this house there are seven people,
a Vampire King,
a Fire King,
a Candy Prince,
a Monochromatic Unicorn,
a Magical Cat,
a Robot,
and a Human.
In these people were multitudes of things too myriad and messy to list, but chief among them was the feeling of unease.
Or at least, unease in the cases of the bipedal organic humanoids.
And some of these bipedal organic humanoids did not take uneasiness well.
. . .
Alright, none of these bipedal organic humanoids took uneasiness well.
So, understandably, the bipedal organic humanoids in the house in the cave in the mountain in the valley in the land called Aaa were not exactly thrilled to be there. The Flame King sat sternly in the fireplace, arms crossed, while Beemo and Cake were playing a hand game. Monochro and Prince Gumball were 'talking' quietly in one corner, while Marshall Lee was honing his Axe in another corner to 'get a sharper tune', focusing scarily hard on the edge.
There was a thunderstorm outside of the cave, flooding the valley minute by minute, and it showed no signs of stopping.
Fionna tried her best to practice her mojo while they waited, but felt the awkwardness leaching her cool. She sighed to herself.
How had stuff gotten to this?
. . .
Just the other day, after she'd left Flame King—Igni—back with his pride, she decided to just wander.
After a while she noticed her hat felt weird, and she looked up to see the ears moving on their own, like antennae.
She grinned, "He-ey!"
Marshall appeared, making a face down at her, "Hey, yourself, Fifi! 'Bout freaking time!"
She swatted him away and he twirled himself through the air to look at her, keeping a hold on his hat.
"You actually going anywhere? I'm getting bored." he asked.
She rolled her eyes, "Nah, just walking." she told him, then she blinked.
"Uh, how long were you following me?"
"After I noticed you were finally sans Lame Kink." he laughed.
"Flame King."
"Nuance. So-o now that the life of the party is here, aka me, I found some sweet, dingy old mine shafts nearby. Wanna check 'em out?"
He grinned while she thought it over, "We'll be able to hang for the day without me wearing this old thing." he gestured to his hat.
She laughed, deciding, "Lead the way, man."
. . .
She looked in interest at the blue-green glowing patches of moss and plants here and there as they went deeper.
Marshall scraped his Axe along a vein of rock, throwing up blue sparks in his wake.
He checked the edge, whistling appreciatively, "Found my wicked new whetstones!"
She clapped from a safe distance as he began hacking off chunks of the rock in flashes of blue light.
"Thinking of sparks," he grunted, hefting his Axe back, over, and down. Krrreeshsh!
"—how's—"
Skrang!
"—Hotshot—"
Skree-ee!
"—treatin' ya?"
CRACK!
"Woo!"
He knelt down to sort through the fragments, and got Fionna to help him.
"It's alright..." she said carefully, "Hey, here's a good one. Um... He's...grown up a lot, I guess?"
"Too thin." he noted, "You think so?" he grumbled, and blinked when she stared at him.
"Uh, I mean..." he mumbled, "Well, dang, Fio, I can't help thinking he's a jerkwad!"
She couldn't help a wry smile, remembering walking in on the 'meeting', "Yeah... You two really don't like each other, do you?"
She held up a sliver in the plant-light, squinting at it.
"Well, no, not really." Marshall laughed nervously. "But there's really nothing to do for that," he told her bluntly, "He's an 'honored guest' thanks to his freaking ambassador status. I'm a dude, yeah, but I'm also a King. I know whose toast the butter's on. Here, gimme that one."
She handed him a larger shard of rock, turning her own tiny piece of it over and over in her fingertips.
Marshall got a small pile going before he spoke up again, focusing on the rocks, "He ask you out yet?"
The tiny, now known to be delicate shard was crushed between her thumb and forefinger, finely splintering into the flesh.
Her yelp was something like "OWDANGIT!"
"Ah, crap, sorry-sorry-sorry!" the vampire stammered out as Fionna held her hand, whimpering.
"Is fine." she mumbled, shaking out her hand, they both clearly seeing the slivers of rock stuck in her fingertips which was so not fine.
"Stupid question!" he backtracked, even as he grabbed her hand and yanked it toward him, demon eyes wide in the semi-darkness.
"I can do it!" she protested as his fingers closed over one sliver.
His glowing red-iris eyes glared at her, "Yeah? How good can you see in the dark, doll face?"
She glared back, "Good en—ouch!" she hissed as he yanked one out, and then she felt the wetness on her fingertip that he could probably see.
They both paused, she staring at him, he staring at her hand.
"I-I can do it myself, Marsh, geez..." she mumbled, tugging at her hand, but his grip tightened.
She winced.
"M-Marshall? Seriously, it's just freaking splinters!" she protested, and he blinked.
He snickered, easing his grip a little, "Aw, be quiet. You can barely see some of these! Don't clench your hand, dangit, they'll go deeper..."
He yanked out a couple more, despite her protests, and more wetness beaded up from her skin.
But when he did nothing but pick them out, Fionna slowly relaxed, but with a vicious blush on her face.
When he was checking her hand for more rock splinters, wiping away the blood beads, Fionna spoke up.
"W-why aren't you...?"
"Hmm?"
He grinned at her when she was quiet, "Why aren't I what?"
He dropped her hand, and she rubbed it absently, "You know..." she muttered.
He laughed, "Because I'm an awesome dude? Or a freaking chromatarian?"
When she still looked a bit stubbornly confused, he shrugged, smile quirking, "Would you have tried to stop me?"
She blinked, and he could honestly see her seriously thinking it over...
"I think so, yeah." she finally admitted, and he felt a bit of pride for her shamelessness. She was so real.
He pointed at her, "Then that's why."
She stared at him as he stood up, brushing off his jeans.
He looked at the pile of rocks he'd collected, then back to her.
"Here, if you wanna pay me back, let's put these little beauties in your backpack." he told her, smirking.
She laughed.
. . .
"Hey..." she began a while later, as they discovered another tunnel, this time with glowing bugs in it.
Fortunately these weren't fireflies, but lightning bugs, and their zap was little more than a static shock.
"Hmm?" he asked, walking on the ceiling.
"Er... If..." she was nervous, "If I'd let you...you know...would you?"
He paused, and was silent, and she stammered, "That was a stupid—!"
"In a freaking heartbeat, babe."
She stopped and looked up, seeing glowing red dots stare down at her from the dark.
She thought she saw the white glint of a smile, "In one, quick li'l heartbeat. Why?"
Suddenly he was in her face, "Are you offering?" he purred.
Her mouth opened soundlessly, making a sound like 'urk', and then he stuck his tongue out at her, laughing.
"Psyche!"
She blushed, trying to hit him, but he flew out of reach.
"You—!"
"Don't use that tone with me, princess. You tempted me." he told her, sneering, "That's a very mean thing of you, Fionna."
She grumbled, blushing as she rubbed her hand, "Sorry." she mumbled, "I was just curious..."
"Oh-h, that's a bad thing to be, little girl..." he told her quietly, a grin spreading freakishly wide on his face.
"Curiosity caught the kitty cat..." Before she could snap something back he flew off again.
"Ooh, hey, shiny thing!" he cackled.
She rolled her eyes and followed him, blush quietly fading.
. . .
Marshall rounded a curve in the tunnel when he was sure he lost her.
He stared at the opposite wall and then sank his teeth into his own arm, easing it just enough to not break the skin.
Little tease, little tease, little freaking tease...
He growled around his arm, muffled, feeling the points of his fangs dig into flesh that wasn't hers.
Little blush, little heartbeat, little bits of the true red RIGHT FLIPPING THERE...
Stupid little questions as if she had to freaking ask...!
Can't really be so freaking innocent, that little—!
He heard footsteps pounding down the tunnel.
Crap, the girl runs fast!
He made one of his scariest faces, scaring her as she rounded the curve, and having a good laugh as he made her shriek.
Her heart thumped from her running and her shock.
Little tease.
"Gotcha!" he chuckled.
Serves her right.
She tried to hit him, then he dodged, and she tried to hit him again, and missed, and began chasing him.
Ooh! Playtime!
They chased each other through the tunnels, through crystal caves, chambered stone pools, spiders' nests, snake pits, through the dark, through glowy-glowy stuff, sometimes he'd chase, sometimes she would, sometimes one would get the drop on the other without quite winning, fist playfully hitting flesh, wrestling without strangling, running without leaving behind, chasing without catching, and he felt the freaky beat in his beast blood begin to rise again.
He caught her, this time shoving her up against the ceiling.
"You know you can't really beat me..." he told her, grinning as she struggled, trying to hit him, but gravity kept her from giving any good punches or kicks. One of his hands pinned her up by her stomach while the other held her up by a shoulder, careful to not let anything more than his hands touch.
The potential, warm, soft weight of her felt nice. He dug his fingers into her stomach a bit, making her laugh helplessly.
He grinned, quietly comparing a certain girl's body to a certain guy's.
Even Gumball wasn't this soft...
Then she began messing with her backpack, and then he saw scissors snap shut near his face, breaking the moment.
He yelped, dropping her, and then yelped again, but she landed on her feet, like a freaking cat, smirking up at him.
"Victory!" she declared, waving the little scissors in his direction.
He snarled, "Not cool, compadre!"
"All's fair!" she told him, and he smirked when he realized how she neatly avoided finishing the sentence.
He then grinned, "That so?" and turned invisible.
He laughed as she whined, watching her spin around quickly.
And then he kept very, very quiet...
She was nervous, now, very nervous. She was backing up bit by bit, and he could practically see her ears straining.
"M-Marshall?" she called out.
He chuckled, the chick was cracking.
He went around, behind her, brushing her backpack.
He watched her whirl around to hit nothing but air and it was so hilariously cute, and dangit he was giggling.
He tugged on her hat this time, then shoved her a bit when her back was turned, giggling like a nutcase.
"This isn't funny, dangit!" she shouted.
"Then why am I laughing?" he asked near her ear. He flew up as she rounded again, "Ooo, so close!"
She snarled, and then took her backpack off to rummage through it again.
Instead of wanting to see what she was doing, he quickly picked her up and away from her precious arsenal.
"Aagh!" she yelped, squirming.
He kept her in a lock from behind, still invisible, and to anyone else it would've looked like she was just floating.
He felt her slump, and practically heard her pout, "Fi-ine, I lose. P-put me down."
He floated a bit higher, feeling her weight try to bring him back down to ground, grinning into the back of her hat.
"Say that I own you." he told her, smirking.
"What?!" she snapped.
"Say that I own you!" he repeated happily, "Say it!"
"N-no way, man, just put me down already! Please!" she protested. There was a difference between losing and being owned.
"Nuh-uh. I can do this all day, Fifi." he told her, "C'mo-on, three little words is all it'll take..." he purred.
But the girl was stubborn.
She tried kicking her legs, straightening her arms, being a dead weight, and even tried to headbutt him, but it only tired her out.
He chuckled as she slumped again in his hold, and heard her mumble something.
"What was that?" he asked, moving close to her ear, "Couldn't catch that."
"Y-you own me..." she growled. He kept in his shudder.
"Can't he-ear yo-ou..." he sang.
"You own me, dangit!" she shouted angrily.
"Again! Louder!" he laughed.
Fionna exploded, "YOU OWN ME, YOU OWN ME, YOU FREAKING DANG OWN ME!" she hollered.
"NOW LET ME GO BEFORE I FREAKING PULVERIZE YOU—YOU FREAKING LEECH!"
And he did, and promptly got a punch in the gut that made him knock his head against the wall.
"Worth it..." he ground out, trying to rank whether his head or his guts hurt more.
He settled for his guts when she punched him again, "That was mean, Marshall!" she told him angrily, before stomping off to her backpack.
He chuckled weakly, sitting up to watch her back.
He then noticed she was wiping at her face a bit, and the mood fell.
He winced. Aw, crud. Did he make her cry?
He floated around carefully, and yup, her eyes looked a bit red.
"Are you okay?" he asked, and she glared at him.
"That was mean, and not funny," she snapped, "And I'm fine."
He flinched again, not sure how to handle this as she got up her stuff and stomped on.
An apology? Nah, she'd still be ticked, and she didn't really take him seriously with those things.
Appeasement? Yeah, that'd do something.
"He can come." he blurted out.
That made her stop and turn around, and look confused at him.
"Huh?"
He felt his grin twitch at the corners and threaten to bare his teeth.
"F-Flame King can...come to...the next fracking Casual Tea... At-my-place..." he ground out, keeping the rictus of a smile on his face.
She blinked at him, and laughed drily, "Pfft, Marshall Lee, you..."
She rubbed the back of her head, "I honestly hadn't thought about taking him..." she admitted.
He kept the stony smile on his face, meanwhile thinking 'Crap.'
"But thanks for letting me know, and...sorry for freaking out like that..." she said, blushing.
He simultaneously thought 'Crap.' and 'Fionna is apologizing to me and blushing about it! Woohoo!'
"You're sure?" she asked.
"It'll be swell!" he gritted out, lips not moving. 'Like a swollen joint!'
She laughed, not buying his grimace, but buying his offer, "Sorry, Marshall. Thanks."
She walked with him this time, playfully shoving, her smile lopsided, "He'll...I'm sure he'll ease up by then..."
Oh, he freaking better...
They made it back out by sunset, and Marshall Lee carefully kept to the shadows.
"That was cool." she told him, and he realized she'd gotten ahold of a lot of the glowy plant stuff they'd found down there.
"What's all that for?" he asked.
"It seems like cool stuff to have around the Tree," she said, and then blushed, "And I thought GB might like some of it, too."
Marshall went blank-faced. The dude probably would.
"Yeah, didn't think of that." he admitted, staring at her. Why didn't he think of that?
She made a makeshift sling and put the 'whetstones' and some of the plants in it.
"When you run into him, be sure to let him know I say hi, okay?" she told a stunned Marshall Lee, giving it to him.
"And warn him about Igni coming."
"Okay, sure, cool." he mumbled. She couldn't really know, could she?
"Thanks again! G'night, Marshall!"
He watched her leave, slightly struck dumb.
The something clicked.
". . . Hey, wait, what the—'Igni'?!" he shouted.
. . .
Everybody was all stiff when she'd brought him along, and then the storm had come in, and you could just feel the stiffness solidify.
Fionna was embarrassed now. This had been a bad idea. Marshall was being patient, but she could see it was hard on him. Gumball and Igni had assured each other that this visit wasn't gonna be related to politics, and was simply 'socialization', but GB was nervous, she could tell.
And Flame King was, well, the humid pre-rain air wore on him, so he wasn't in a very good mood to begin with, and had a hard time coping.
And they were all essentially stuck there until the storm passed.
Fionna felt like she'd ruined Casual Tea.
. . . Then she'd darn well better do something to fix it!
"Jam!" she stated, standing up quickly, and felt everyone's eyes turn around to stare at her.
"I-I mean...we should...jam..." she continued, coming out less coolly than it'd gone in her head.
"That's the theme today, right?!" she shouted, then whirled to Marshall, "You've got your Axe."
She pointed to Beemo, who saluted, "You go to GB!"
Monochro already gotten his harp out from somewhere, while Cake got her hammered dulcimer.
She turned to Flame King, who'd blinked at the assembly from the fireplace, "Do you have something, Igni?" she asked.
He managed to smile, "Is there a fully metal round-shield no one would miss?"
All of them blinked.
"Gimme a mo, Majesty." Marshall said, grudgingly curious, before flying out a window.
They all waited, some nervously shuffling on their feet, paws, or hooves, before he returned, drenched head to toe.
"Déjà vu." he commented sourly, causing Fionna to giggle, before hurling the shield like a frisbee at the other King.
The Flame King caught it smoothly with a smirk, any dampness on the metal rising as steam as the section around his hand began to glow red-hot, and already he showed his control as the entire thing began to glow as a solid mass without falling apart.
He sat cross-legged in the fireplace while he shaped the metal without melting it, everybody watching with interest.
He made it curve more to look like a large bowl, and then did something to make the thick metal balloon while he spun it, making it now look more like the flying toy saucers the Space People played with, and then set it on the brickwork to let it cool. As it did, he began shaping the top, giving it more shape like a turtle shell, giving it facets, and using his thumb to put a slight dent in the middle of each facet with his thumb, and then let the heat of it go away as he looked it over. When it seemed to his liking he sat the finished thing on his crossed legs, not melting it, and looked at them all proudly.
". . . It's a UFO." Marshall stated, and Flame King frowned, "It's a Sound Shell, vampire!"
And then he played it.*
His hands beat against the facets like a drum, making each one glow red and throw up sparks as he did, throwing up such a primal, yet complex bell-like tune that Fionna felt herself feel like dancing. Gumball soon joined in to the pleasing rhythm with an electrical techno-crooning from Beemo's circuitry, and Marshall Lee set up the main tune with his Axe while Monochro and Cake became the back-up instrumentals with their percussionist strings.
Fionna took up the vocal, at times using her voice or the miniature computer. She didn't sing any words, but instead gave her voice up to vowels that mixed, contrasted, and blended with the music, a grin tugging at her face as everyone got into it.
Even the cracking of thunder sounded like accompaniment as they went on to more music, everyone experimenting with being the lead, either coming up with random things or teaching Igni some of their songs, and vice versa. At snack time, even the Flame King got some firecrackers and something en flambe to eat, thanks to Gumball. The tension was pretty much gone now, and even Marshall seemed to have fun.
But then Fionna noticed some things that kind of took away from the fun.
Usually at one Casual Tea they'd talk about the next one, but no one seemed inclined to. And when she tried to talk to Marshall or Gumball about it, Flame King would try to listen in too, and then Gumball or Marshall would be less talkative.
And then when the Flame King talked to her, neither of the other guys joined in, and actually fell out of the conversation when he started speaking. That, and the Flame King wouldn't really leave Fionna alone the entire evening. Fionna was confused, and a little bit hurt. She could clearly see that Marshall thought the Flame King was being rude, so why didn't he do anything? Even GB would've tried to say something to distract FK, but he'd only...sort of smile...
She thought Flame King would've commented on their standoffishness, but he just kept talking...
Fionna decided to keep her thoughts to herself to look them over later.
.
* For those of you who might not know, the 'Sound Shell' is an actual instrument.
It is called a Spacedrum, and creates very unique music.
For examples of how it sounds, you may look on YouTube for:
Francis Ferrié — Deep Sky Scale; and Song for Dust
and
Yuki Koshimoto — Spacedrum Solo
Thank you!
(And if this violates anything, I don't own anything, and you can't make me! All credit goes to the musicians! Thank you!)
.
"I don't like doing this, GB... It kinda feels like we're brushing her off."
"Just trust me. You spent time with her today?"
"Yeah, it was...cool, I guess. She teased me."
"She what?"
"Ah-ha, not intentionally, I don't think. And don't sound so happy, it's freaky! Hey, she got you this...this glowy thing, here, take it.
And she says hi. So, hi."
"Oh? . . . Oh, this looks fascinating..."
". . . Hey, Bubba?"
"Hm?"
"I might not agree to a lot of it, but I think your plan's...good."
". . . Thank you, Marshall."
. . .
Author's note: The next chapter may be delayed for a while, as things on my end are going to be a bit up in the air for a few days. Thank you for your patience and your patronage! Your reviews are very much welcome!
