I didn't expect to be writing more fanfiction, having been pretty burnt out on it, however I also didn't expect it to be for a different series again. But I binge watched Amphibia after hearing about all the wild creature designs, and while doing so, this idea popped into my head. I don't want to spoil too much of what's going on, as it's meant to be a slowly unfolding mystery, but I hope you like it, prospective readers!
This story has been ongoing on Ao3 for awhile now, but I realized I never cross-posted here. There are currently nine chapters on the Ao3 version, but I won't add them all at once here. Instead I'll release them one at a time for that nice serialized fiction experience.
Today was the most important day of Marcy Wu's life. Well, besides the day she and her two best friends were sent to another world, and the day she got killed and Frakenstein-ed back to life via a tank of newt goo, or the day her and her friends got anime powers and fought an army of space robots so Anne could blow up the moon. But other than all of that, it was the most important day of her life, because today was the day, after three years of on and off discussions, false starts, and salary negotiations, that a deal had finally been struck.
Walking out of Happy Mouse Animation Studio's headquarters, Marcy held back the urge to burst into dance and pulled out her phone instead.
The second she heard the others pick up, Marcy shouted into the receiver. "Anne, Sasha, Marcy! Wait, that last one is me but it doesn't matter because IT. IS. HAPPENING!"
"Whaaaaaat!?" Sasha cried.
"Seriously!?" Anne asked.
"Seriously! Happy Mouse Studios has officially picked up my webcomic for an animated series!"
Anne and Sasha screamed in joy.
"That's amazing, Mar-Mar!"
"I knew they'd say yes. Twenty-seventh time's the charm!"
"By the way," Marcy said, "I'm technically under an NDA now so if you say a word of this to anyone... I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!"
Sasha laughed, "My lips are sealed, doctor's honors. Speaking of doctor-stuff I have to meet a client in five. Talk to you later, and congrats again."
The phone beeped as Sasha disconnected from the call.
"I'm so proud of you, Marcy," Anne said.
Marcy blushed and twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "Aw, Anna-Banana..."
After a few seconds, Marcy regained her composure. "Also, speaking of knowing where you live-"
Anne chuckled, "You forgot your key again, didn't you?"
"Yeah."
"I'll leave the door unlocked. Anyway, I've gotta finish getting ready for tonight because we are gonna celebrate!"
"I'm on my way!"
Marcy hung up, but forgot to lock her phone. She placed her hands on her hips and took in a deep breath, letting the reality of the situation sink in. She was no longer Macy Wu, creator of a mildly popular webcomic about a fantastical world of amphibians that was in no way based on true events, she was Marcy Wu, creator of an upcoming cartoon about a fantastical world of amphibians that was in no way based on true events!
"You know what, I can't hold it back anymore, I'mma dance now."
Across the street, a crowd of pedestrians stared slack jawed as Marcy burst into dance.
"Mommy," a young boy among the throng of people asked, "why is that lady doing Fortnite dances?"
"Look away, Jimmy," his mother said while shielding her son's eyes.
Marcy paid them no attention and continued dancing down the street. There was another reason for her joy, beyond simple career advancement. As a web-comic artist and grad student who worked at an aquarium, Marcy and Anne weren't exactly flush with cash. This job would give Marcy just enough financial stability to feel comfortable asking Anne a question, one that she'd wanted to for the past two years. The most important question of their lives.
"NOTHING BAD EVER HAPPENS TO ME!" Marcy shouted just before falling into an open manhole.
Deep within the sewers beneath Los Angeles, a presence stirred.
Two creatures, cloaked in makeshift armor fashioned from tinfoil, hauled a rectangular device nearly as big as they were. They traveled through a series of tunnels bored into the walls of the sewer, leading them to an artificial island of trash built up amid the streams of raw sewage. It was a wretched land, but the only home they had ever known.
On the island, others of their kind lived in dwellings made from soup cans, shopping baskets, and whatever other trash they could scavenge from the human world above. The creatures moved past the makeshift buildings, muttering greetings to their neighbors as they struggled to continue carrying their treasure. Finally they reached the island's center, where a throne made from the cut down remnants of a plastic lawn chair stood above the buildings like a beacon on a hill. Atop the throne sat a figure, who while dwarfed by the size of the lawn chair, still radiated enough power and authority to make the chair seem too small for him.
"Ribbi, Nura, what have you brought?" the figure croaked.
The two dropped their treasure, which clattered to the ground. The first of the two, Ribbi, spoke. "A treasure, grandfather! A human fell from the above-world while we were out scavenging, and we took this from her,"
"I think it is one of the human 'phones,'" the other, Nura, explained.
Their grandfather scowled. "It's of no use to us. We cannot bypass their so-called 'face ID.'"
"But grandfather, look!" Nura grabbed the phone by it's edges and raised it with all her might until she held the phone vertically.
Her grandfather's eyes widened. Not only was the phone unlocked, but Nura had already searched it herself. The screen displayed the phone's saved photos, which were full of sketches depicting various humanoid frogs. He desperately searched for one frog in particular.
"There! That one!"
While Nura held the phone up, Ribbi touched the photo their grandfather pointed towards. It filled the screen, showing a drawing of pink frog boy striking a goofy pose. Below the drawing was the label "Sprig Plantar." Below that was the label "probably shouldn't use his real name," and below that was a list that read "Name Ideas: Augie Froggy? Weed? Sprigg with two G's?" All the suggestions were crossed out.
"Yes... Yes! It's him! The Wakener, Sprig Plantar!"
I've tried to hint at what's happened in the three years between the end of The Hardest Thing and the start of this story, instead of just flatly spelling it out, mostly in regards to what exactly is going on with Marcy and Anne. Let me know if it's not clear enough.