This is my first time writing Amphibia characters; I apologize for any egregious errors.
It had been a few days since the Plantars left Newtopia, and even though she already was starting to miss Marcy, Anne couldn't find herself regretting her decision to stay with her "adoptive frog family." Not after everything the four of them had been through together.
This particular evening they had just reached a wooded area, and were slowly driving the f-wagon down the path, looking for a good place to stop that would suit Hop-Pop's tastes (i.e. wherever seemed like the least likely spot for them to be suddenly attacked by a heron or tree monster or any of the other numerous horrors that plagued this freakin' world). The entire family was sitting up on the roof (except Sprig, who was riding Bessie), and enjoying watching the stars come out-when Anne saw something off in the trees about ten feet in, like a brief flash of bright green light.
"Hey, did you guys see that?"
Sprig whipped his head around. "What? Saw what?!"
"There was a light off in the trees-like a bright green one!" Anne was leaning forward off the edge of the f-wagon, peering intently through the trees in an attempt to find where it had been. She wasn't exactly sure why she was so interested, since let's be honest, random lights weren't even close to the weirdest thing she'd seen since she came here, but...something about it, maybe the type of flash or something, reminded her of-
"Anne, random lights aren't even close to the strangest things you've seen here," Hop-Pop said, somewhat peevishly. "Sit your rump down, we gotta keep moving-WHAT THE-!"
This time the light was a lot bigger, and lasted a lot longer, shooting straight up into the sky like a beacon, before vanishing again.
For a moment they just sat there, transfixed. Then Anne and Sprig said in near-unison, "I'm gonna go check that out!" and leaped onto the trail.
"Wait! Bring me too!" Polly demanded, stretching out her tiny arms (flippers?); in one smooth motion Anne scooped her up, and tucked her under her arm before charging off.
"Dang it, kids!" Hop-Pop cried once he recovered from his shock, "Get back here, ain't ya learned by now that whenever ya go off investigating something new it always-means...trouble…"
They had already disappeared into the trees.
Hop-Pop groaned, and hopped down, carrying the reins over to Bessie and holding them up; the giant snail made a trilling noise, and then took them into her mouth.
"Make sure nobody steals the f-wagon or tries to eat you, girl," he ordered, before hurrying off after his grandchildren.
"I'm gettin' too old for this."
"What do you think it is?!" Sprig asked excitedly. "Maybe it's frogs from another planet! Oh, or maybe another factory like that one in the Ruins of Despair, and we'll have to avoid the shiny blue circles again!"
"Or-" Anne interjected- "it could be someone traveling between traveling like me! That light looked a lot like the one I saw when I opened the music box back in my world!" Her stomach fluttered with excitement; other people who had managed to teleport or whatever?! That could be, like, a whole new step to getting her and her friends home!
"Whoa, that's way cooler than my ideas!"
"Yeah it is!" Polly cheered.
"Hey, what's that noise?"
The three of them stopped short and listened.
Something was crashing through the trees up ahead of them-something big-and it was making loud, grumbly noises that as it came closer Anne recognized were words. And something about that voice was very frighteningly familiar...
"Stupid-I told ya not to touch that thing till ya knew what it did-Sixer, if you can't get this fixed when I find ya I'm gonna kick your-AUGH!"
An old man had stepped into view-an old, gray-haired man wearing a long brown coat and with a red woolly beanie perched on top of his head. Even so, Anne recognized him as soon as she got a good look at his face.
"AAAAUUUUGGGHHHH! THE CURATOR! A HUMAN VERSION OF THE CURATOR! KILL HIM BEFORE HE TURNS US INTO GOLD STATUES!"
-/-/-/-/-
Stan Pines had no idea what was going on.
One minute he'd been in search of his knucklehead brother who had not only started messing with a device that turned out to be another portal thing (it'd almost be funny what bad luck he had with those things if it didn't involve so many traumatic memories for both of them), so now they were stuck in wherever the heck this was, and if that wasn't bad enough the dingus had gone flying off, and Ford had chased off after it, so now Stan had to go find him and make sure he wasn't having a panic attack or something so they could think about what to do next-then the next minute he'd run into a group of kids (or at least kid-sized creatures), and the big bush-haired one had immediately started screaming and trying to hit him with a tennis racket (where had that even come from?).
"Hey! Ow, what the heck!" Stan fended off the insane girl with one arm, staggering back. "Knock it off-ow, I haven't even been here long enough ta deserve something like this!"
"Leave Anne alone!" a voice from his other side demanded, and the small pink creature stuck out his tongue at him. Literally-it came lunging out to slap him in the chest, nearly knocking him over. Quickly Stan did the only thing he could think of, which was to grab the tongue and pull hard, which yanked the creature forward into his arms.
"SPRIG! PUT HIM DOWN, YOU MONSTER!" The girl then produced a sword-a sword?!
I mean, he respected the right for children to carry weapons and all, but not when they were tryna use them on him!
Yeah, this is probably my cue ta drop the pink squirt and run like a coward.
Before he could do that, however, a wonderfully familiar voice called from behind his attackers, "Drop your weapons! Now!"
Stan breathed a small sigh of relief as the crazy people turned away from him-and immediately screamed again at the sight of Ford, who was standing there with multiverse gun in hand and looking like he meant business.
"AUGH! THERE'S ANOTHER ONE!"
"KIDS!"
Yet another tiny screaming creature came rushing through the trees towards them-this one was orange, Stan noticed, and dressed a little like his grandpa Pines had, from what he remembered. Aside from that, he looked kinda like a really big frog-come to think of it, so did two of the creatures that had been attacking Stan, except one was pink and the other was purple.
As soon as the orange frog saw them he gasped, and balled up his tiny fists.
"Monsters! Horrible wrinkly monsters, the likes of which this world has never seen before!"
"Hey!"
"They're humans, Hop-Pop," the girl said in an annoyed tone-before immediately returning to yelling. "AND THEY'RE HUMAN VERSIONS OF THE CURATOR!"
"OH MY FROG!" Hop-Pop (what the heck kinda name was that?) came charging straight at Ford-which Stan could've told him was a big mistake, had he cared to listen. He sidestepped the attack easily, and in a swift movement knocked the frog onto his back and planted a boot on his chest. Then he fired a shot into the air and bellowed, "EVERYONE CALM DOWN, NOW!"
Amazingly, it did the trick; the yelling and attacking stopped, and the group stared at him with wide eyes. Stan finally remembered that he was kind of holding the weird pink frog, and let him slip through his fingers back to the ground.
Ford took a deep breath, and said, "Now, one of you please explain why you're attacking my brother."
-/-/-/-/-
"Cuz he's the Curator!" Anne said indignantly, pointing to him. "He's gonna try to turn us into gold statues and put us in his museum for-"
"What?! How-listen, kid, I don't need ta kill people ta create exhibits, that's what cheap taxidermy's for! And how do you even know about-"
"Stanley," the other Curator interrupted, looking unusually starry-eyed for the situation, "I think they must have confused you with this dimension's version of you."
"Wait, what?" said the Curator, Anne and Hop-Pop at pretty much the same time.
The other Curator sighed and rubbed his eyes-there was something off about his hands, Anne noticed. Like they were bigger than the average-wait, he had an extra finger?! Weird and cool! "Oh dear...how do we explain this. Look, this might be somewhat difficult to believe, but we are not monsters. We're travelers from a different dimension who need to retrieve the device we used to get here so we can go home again."
"Um, that might not be as hard for us to believe as you might think, dude," Anne piped up.
The other Cur-the other old dude gave her a confused look, blinked, and then clarity rose in his eyes as he took in her appearance.
"Oh. Oh my."
-/-/-/-/-
"...so we just need to go back home and get the music box, and as soon as Marcy gets here we can charge up the stones and use it to go home!"
"Remarkable." Ford rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I heard of such devices in the multiverse, but was never able to acquire one for myself."
They had made their way to the family's wagon (or f-wagon, as they had insisted on calling it), and created a campfire next to it, since unfortunately the two old men were too big to fit inside; they sat down around it and traded their respective tales.
Not everything, obviously, but enough to get it through everyone's heads that they didn't need to fight.
"It's a shame I won't have a chance to study it for myself, but we have this." Ford held up the dingus; Stan breathed a small sigh of relief at seeing that he'd caught it before it could get too far away. "If my calculations are correct, it should start functioning again when the moon reaches its peak, and I don't know how many opportunities it will give us to travel between dimensions so we need to take this one."
"...And it'll just take you right back to where you were when it starts working again?" the girl-Anne-asked. Despite himself, Stan felt his heart twinge a little at the open longing in her tone, and he asked without thinking about it, "...You wanna come back with us? Pretty sure we're from the same dimension, and we were pretty close to California when this thing brought us here." She'd said she was from California, right?
Anne hesitated, clearly tempted-but shook her head. "Thanks, but no. I can't just leave Marcy or-or Sasha here." Something about her expression told Stan that she and her other friend were having...issues. "I can wait for the music box."
He shrugged, and pulled a bag of toffee peanuts from his pocket. "Suit yourself."
Seconds later the polliwog had hopped onto his knee and was staring at the bag with wide eyes. "What's that?!" she asked, sniffing. "It smells...sugary."
"...Eh, probably nuthin' that'd interest you. Just candy from another dimension." He hid a smirk at how big her pupils got, and the little ribbon of drool that dripped from her mouth, before she demanded, "Lemme try some, old man!"
Stan cackled, and popped a few pieces into her mouth. The resultant grin reminded him of Mabel, causing a small fond ache in his chest.
Of course, then her brother wanted to have some too, so soon enough he had a child on either side of him happily trying to pick bits of toffee out of their teeth. Their grandpa was more wary, but he took a piece when it was offered to him.
Since they were going to be stuck until the moon was high anyway, the Plantars offered to give the Pineses dinner, and well, they'd learned never to turn down a free meal, so they agreed.
"Sadly, I can't feed you fellas one of my family's home recipes," Hop-Pop said as he rummaged in the f-wagon, "but these mushroom bars are nice and nourishing."
"Trust me, you're getting off lucky," Anne stage-whispered to them. "I've tried HP's cooking, and it is-"
"-is perfectly good for people who have the proper respect for tradition," Hop-Pop interrupted. He sounded more annoyed than flat-out angry, like it was an argument they'd had many times before, and would continue to have many times in the future. "I'm sure you two understand, bein' of a more...mature age like I am."
Stan shrugged as he took a mushroom bar. "Eh, I dunno. Just cuz something's traditional doesn't always mean it's good."
He might as well have said that he thought eating babies was perfectly normal, decent behavior, if Hop-Pop's horrified, outraged gasp was anything to go by. Seconds later the old frog's face flushed with red, and he pointed a trembling finger practically in Stan's face.
"You're a disgrace to your age group!"
Behind him, Anne rolled her eyes.
"Yeesh, and he calls me dramatic."
-/-/-/-/-
Despite their blasphemous views on tradition, the Pineses seemed like decent enough folk.
The floofy-haired one had hundreds of questions about their world and culture, writing all the answers down in a big red journal; his enthusiasm and curiosity reminded Hop-Pop an awful lot of that Marcy girl. The non-Curator was less curious, but he was good with the kids at least, and kept making them laugh and shamelessly feeding them more of that chewy peanut candy.
During dinner the Pineses told stories about some of their adventures-apparently they were some kind of seafaring travelers who went around looking for weirdness, and on one of their trips they'd stumbled on an island with a cave full of treasures, and amongst them was the doohickey that had brought them here.
It didn't sound quite as dangerous as the Calamity Box, and he couldn't remember seeing anything about it in his books...but Hop-Pop still hoped they'd keep it away from him and his kids.
Speak of the devil, the floofy-haired one asked at last, "So where is the music box now?"
"Hop-Pop's got some contacts back in Wartwood who he said'd take care of it while we were gone." Anne munched her mushroom bar. "And they're keeping it safe, right, HP?"
Even though he'd been somewhat prepared for the question, Hop-Pop still felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. "Yeah, of course they are, Anne! I told ya, they'll keep it safe, and tell me everything they know about it when I get it back from them."
Thankfully he managed to put the lie together without any real effort on his part, and she accepted it readily enough. He gave a small sigh of relief, and quickly changed the subject.
Had he been paying better attention, he might have noticed the non-Curator's eyes narrow a tiny bit.
Eventually the moon started to rise, and the floofy-haired Mr. Pines produced the device out of his pocket again.
"It should be almost ready!" he exclaimed in delight, adjusting his glasses. "I think I just need to get it into direct moonlight, so it can absorb enough to send us back!" He leaped to his feet-sweet Frog, Hop-Pop still wasn't used to how tall humans were; these two were even bigger than Anne, for pity's sake-and began looking for a decent spot. "Stanley, I think we need to go this way!"
"Okay, okay, keep your shirt on." The non-Curator Mr. Pines looked down at Hop-Pop. "Y'know, those mushroom bars ain't half bad. Any chance we can get a couple for the road?"
"Stanley," floofy Mr. Pines said in exasperation, "we have plenty of food back on the boat! And we've imposed on these good-um, frogs for long enough!"
"No, no, that's all right, we got a few extra I think we can spare." Hop-Pop walked over to the f-wagon and hopped inside. He grabbed a couple of bars, turned around-and nearly had a heart attack when he found non-Curator Mr. Pines half-crouching in the doorway.
Oh Frog, was he gonna turn out to be a threat after all?! Were he and his brother going to turn into vicious frog-eating monsters who ripped out your liver and-?!
"Word of advice, shortstack," non-Curator Mr. Pines said. "Whatever lie you're tellin' the kids about that music box, it's not a good idea."
Hop-Pop's thoughts screeched to a halt. After a moment he stammered, "I-I'm not-"
"Save it." Non-Curator Mr. Pines took the bars from his suddenly-nerveless fingers and began stuffing them into his coat pockets. "Take it from someone who knows, if they find out from someone besides you, or if they find out in a really bad way, it's gonna come back ta bite you like ya wouldn't believe. I'm not one ta say that honesty is the best policy, cuz in my experience it's not, but keepin' secrets like that from your family...it'll go a lot better for ya in the long run if ya just tell 'em the truth."
He gave Hop-Pop a wide grin, and a smack on the arm that was probably supposed to be friendly but almost knocked him over.
"See ya around. Or-probably not, actually. You know what I mean."
Then he climbed out of the f-wagon, and Hop-Pop could hear him saying goodbye to the kids, before he and his brother headed off into the woods. A few minutes later, there was another flash of green light that presumably meant they'd gotten their device to work.
Hop-Pop felt an uncomfortable blend of discomfort, guilt, and shame in his stomach-but he tried to cover it up with indignation.
What did that Pines fella know about keeping secrets to protect your family?! He just didn't understand what was at stake here-how desperately Hop-Pop needed to make sure nothing happened to his grandchildren, including Anne! It might not always feel like the best choice, but that was his job as head of the family: making choices for the good of the family, whether they felt good or not!
With all the self-righteous stubborn denial at his disposal, Hop-Pop went out to tell the kids that they'd had enough excitement for one day and it was time for bed.
Apparently Stanford Pines is not the only self-righteous denier of reality in existence.
Sorry if this feels rushed; I realized how late it was getting as I worked on it and got in a rush to finish. Sleep is for those not being bitten by rabid plot bunnies.