AN:
Hello again folks. Something I've noted of late is how un-Adventure Time things have been getting. With that in mind the coming offerings will hopefully return us to the familiar out from all this change of scenery and tone.
I'm gonna clarify some confusion expressed in the comments. Finn isn't a tube dude in FGU, he was born naturally, and then modified afterwards. Also, in PB's weapons handling scene, I tried to describe cheek weld, a common shooting technique that you use to keep your head stable, so you can look through the scope at the right angle. It's different from putting your eye right up to the scope, which will definitely earn you a nasty cut. In hindsight the scene is unnecessary since candy weapons have been seen in the show. I'm inclined to leave it as is, but if you guys think cutting it would help keep things authentic, I can definitely do the edit. As much as I love praise, criticism is critical to growth. All kinds of feedback are important to me.
This chapter is definitely fueled 50/50 by y'all and your feedback, and by my girlfriend's writing playlists, which is where our musical selection, Gotta Have You by the Weepies, springs from. Hope its been worth the wait.
Chapter 16: Less Tears, No Arson
A powerful aroma filled Finn's nose. There was vibration in him, in his head and body, one that came through in all his senses. Vividness was everywhere; sounds, smells, and sights of all kinds had new life, novel detail he had somehow never before witnessed, even in mundane things he had viewed countless times. The train of his thoughts seemed to have all new lines, and something had grasped his center of curiosity, forcing him to take every new transfer. Every so often, his age-old brother or newfound lover would pass him a bottle or pipe, and the gnaw at the roots of Finn's brain would grind on. With every step down the softly lit streets, Finn wandered deeper into a place he'd yet to visit. There were greater things there, bursts of thought coiled tightly beneath the haze he was building, like great sea serpents waiting to breach the surface his brain. And every imbibing drew them closer and closer to the forefront.
"Is... Is that a train up there?" Marceline pointed high, and sure enough there was a train sitting in an elevated station. "If it's running, we're totally taking it." The three ambled up the stairs, filling a close corner of the metal tube.
"This train has been delayed 1034 years, due to lack of passengers. Now that the train is being filled, we will depart shortly," said a friendly and mechanical female voice, and before long the train began to accelerate. Marcie squished close to Finn, resting her weight against him as they sat on the edge of the bench. Jake curled up in their laps, demanding tummy rubs and receiving plenty.
"How's it feeling, tough stuff?" Finn fought to string his words together, and Marcie chortled and giggled.
"It's... Well it's new, but it's nice. Not sure the cider is doing anything, though. Still tasty." Finn let his head lay back. "It sure beats the last time I was this bummed. A lot less tears. And also no arson."
Marceline cackled. "You know I'd heard that you and FP didn't get off on the best foot, but that's so much worse than I'd ever suspected."
"She globbin' near burnt down the tree house!" Finn exclaimed. "I mean, it was a misunderstanding. And the house turned out just fine, so..."
"Water under the bridge?" Marcie offered.
"Yeah, pretty much." Finn found the pipe in his hands, and gingerly breathed as deeply from it as he dared.
The train powered through the cityscape, winding between buildings until it came into a wide circular structure that took up a whole block. Inside the central station, they spilled out the doors, following signs away from the platforms.
"Food court? Oh boy, you guys wanna see how the old humans chowed?" Jake didn't wait for an answer, extending rapidly down the hall. Finn and Marceline pursued with shared laughed, jogging and floating after Jake's wagging yellow tail. The chamber they entered was filled with tables, lined with booth seating, and had a large kiosk in the center. Jake was already there, tapping away at one of the wide screen menus. "I think we hit the jackpot," he gushed. "Good grod, the options!"
The catalog of foods was massive, sorted by location of origin. There was even a globe. "I didn't even know there was so many kinds of food," Marceline marveled.
Below the screens at waist height was a conveyor, leading from the bowels of the machine. As the three made their selections, an electric buzz and a soft golden glow issued from the conveyor opening, and metal trays bearing fresh foodstuffs came down the conveyor.
"Hm," Finn mumbled as he consulted his wrist computer. "Thoros, are you listening?"
"Not actively, but I hear when you call for me," came the reply. "How can I assist you?"
"We're here in the central train station down in the Hilt, in the food court. Can you tell us about the machine here?"
"Absolutely. It uses an early form of the technology used in your mother's rejuvenation treatment. Inorganic matter is converted to a plasma composed of undifferentiated matter, and then reconstituted as edible biological materials according to a digital chemical profile. To better serve the highly diverse population of this type of arcology, digital profiles for an equally diverse range of cuisine were archived; the machine itself is capable of replicating practically any substance or object, though food units are obviously limited to foods."
"Far out," the vampire queen said with a whistle. "Geez bright eyes, your mom was a real deal science type. No wonder Peebs has been hoarding the notes, this stuff is way cray."
"Makes you wonder how I came out so dumb," Finn joked. Maybe it was his buzz, but what struck him as self-deprecating simply didn't have any bite to it. It just was. There was a sense of honesty with himself that was new.
Jake snorted and cackled. "You're not dumb, buddy bro, you excell at what you interest in. You're gonna learn the power of that sooner or later."
Their food arrived in front of them; Jake's bloody rare T-bone, a big plate of spicy Cajun jambalaya for Finn, and Marceline's choice of grilled white cheddar cheese, tomato soup and a piece of red velvet cake. They grabbed a table and broke bread. Finn found himself watching the vampire intently, as she pulled her sandwich into half and dipped one in her soup. Their eyes met as she took a bite, and she felt heat in her pallid cheeks as she chewed and swallowed. "W-what?" she asked, with the faintest defensive stammer.
"I never see you actually eat your food" the last human blurted in response.
"Whaaaaat, I totally eat!" She took another dipped bite of her sandwich, as if to prove her point. "It doesn't do anything for my hunger, but I can still taste, ya know?"
Finn just snickered, digging into his dish. They ate silently, since talk was fairly unneccesary with food that good in front of you. Finn and Marceline couldn't keep their eyes from each other, but it seemed like they couldn't meet gazes either. Jake couldn't help but notice.
"Gruf," he muttered as a laughing bark. "Yeesh, you two. This third wheel is rollin' on. I can't feel brolike hanging around you two lovebirds." Jake grabbed his steak in his jaws and stretched down the hall. "Imma find Abracadaniel, see if he can hold his cider."
Finn and Marceline both sounded feeble protests, but the look on the hound's face was adamant. Once Jake was gone, there wasn't much they could do but fight through this new bashfulness. "Come to think of it, isn't alcohol supposed to be really bad for dogs?" the vampire queen offered.
Finn chuckled, thankful for a mundane subject to get him past the lump in his throat. "Jake talks some game, but his gut is as magic as the rest of him. He eats what he wants to."
Finished with her grilled cheese, Marceline proceeded to drain the red from her tomato soup. Finn snorted, shaking his head as he watched her through the gold halo of his hair. Marceline felt that flush return in full under his blue eyes scrutiny, and pulled up an old staple of Abadeer game, hiding from self-consciousness in audacious flirtation as she cut into her cake. Yanking Finn gently by his collar, she slipped her fork into his mouth before releasing him. Finn stared at her, gobsmacked as he chewed; Marcie looked off into space, self-satisfied by his reaction through the corner of her eye as she cut a piece for herself.
Their plates were clear but for scant scraps. There was nothing left for them in the cafeteria but to look at each other; something it seemed they couldn't get enough of. When they moved to place their trays upon the wash conveyor, it was Finn whose discipline slipped. The way his vampiric lover moved as she drifted gracefully about had a mesmerizing quality, binding him to a look that rewarded Marceline with the old familiar feeling, the satisfaction of knowing she'd caught her prey. It was an age old game they played on the way back to the trains, instincts that thrilled them as they reminded both of what they really were beneath the scars and origin stories. On that walk, in the shared glances and the way each moved about the other, they reaffirmed that at their cores, they were a boy and a girl, who each knew now that things made more sense and tasted sweeter when they felt the way they felt together. The way she pressed against him, lithe and relaxed, radiated something he'd never seen within this ruby eyed maverick.
She was open to him. There were no barriers left between them and the colors in their eyes. He had slipped by every inhibition, passing through walls forged of force of personality like they were cool water pools, till the only choice she had left was silent vulnerability. It was a fearful thing for Finn; he felt he could shatter this strange aura with a single misstep.
The line ended where they'd started, by the camp at the Tang, where the two silently gathered the rest of their things from the offloaded cargo. Finn felt the weight of the day fall back upon his shoulders, his eyelids growing heavy as he hoisted his bags.
"Thoros?" Finn asked his watch softly, while Marceline fiddled with the bag she had packed. "Where is there somewhere I can be to myself?" Finn knew it was an awkward wording, but Thoros seemed to catch his meaning anyways.
"There are private quarters adjacent to the command throne chamber traditionally reserved for the Lord of the Silver Tower," came the reply.
"It's... Not that I'm not having fun, really." Finn turned from his watch to his companion, surprised to see her so near, a duffel of clothes hanging from her shoulder. "I'm just reaching the end of my fuse," he said haltingly. It seemed as though it took a bit for Marceline to fully comprehend, but the look on her face hardly telegraphed her reaction clearly. Finn felt the window to her soul inch closer to shut.
"We've both come a pretty gnarly way away from home," she agreed. "It's probably the smart idea to count some sheep. There's gonna be plenty of work to do around here." Marcie drifted over and around Finn's back, hugging him tight and dropping a kiss on the back of his head before she floated up over his head and down the street, where Bananaman and FP were chitchatting outside a shorter five story building. She could already feel the invisible hook she'd tied between their heartstrings, yanking her back to him.
Finn let out a breath he didn't know he's been holding. He couldn't read any deeper into the mess on his plate; the hero of Ooo's brain was 100% tapped out. He'd need to wait till morning to have any chance of knowing if he'd just christened a ship or sank one.
A few minutes later Finn stepped from the pod he took up the Fuller, crossing the command chamber to the door Thoros had indicated to him. The room within seemed to echo as Finn closed the door behind him and dropped his things. It was big, with a wide bed that felt more luxurious under him than just about anything he'd ever slept on. A wide screen dominated the wall opposite the bed, at the far end of the room. The door opened into a den, filled with a circle of couches, a compact food synth unit with a small table in one corner and a three screened computer terminal in the other. Finn changed to a white t-shirt and his favorite PJs with swords on them, flopping back and kicking the soft, cool sheets over him. "Lights please," he mumbled, and to his surprise, they obeyed, and the darkness caught the boy, carrying him off to sleep.
Marceline didn't mind her new room, in the building down the street from the Tang. Much of the gang slept in rooms nearby. It wasn't the bed either; that mystery foam was cushier than a cloud and never seemed to stray from the perfect temperature. It wasn't even the getting to sleep, that had been easy enough.
It was the dreams that went racing through her brain, torturing her with burning fingers till she would bolt awake. If her undead form could perspire, she knew she'd be soaked, and jumped into the small shower attached to her quarters anyways.
Out the window, she spied the Tang, and knew her tormentors lay sleeping in the clouds above. She saw what she wanted, where she knew she needed to be, and simply stopped listening to her other voices. Her careening heart and her sleepy head had struck them silent with lyrics she'd heard decades ago on a vinyl she'd found.
Soft voices pulled Finn from slumber. Then light cast the remains of his sleep from him. He squinted hard at the figure silloueted in the blinding beam, before disappearing as the door closed shut. He couldn't see it that dark; even his eyes needed a moment to transition between radical extremes in light. But his ears heard her footsteps, heard her drop her bag to the floor, and sigh with relief. "Lights," he muttered, sitting up fully.
She still stood in the doorway. Marcie wore a long dark sweatshirt, that she was slowly unzipping. Beneath were soft, comfy shorts to her mid thigh, and a gray tank top. She reached out with a slender hand, finding a wall switch and pushing the dimmer down to a faint glow, as she took one soft step after another across the nearly dark room. Sounds spilled softly from her lips.
"Gray, quiet and tired and mean,
Picking at a worried seam,
I try to make you mad at me over the phone.
Red eyes and fire and signs,
I'm taken by a nursery rhyme,
I want to make a ray of sunshine and never leave home.
No amount of coffee, no amount of crying,
No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine,
No, no, no, no, no,
Nothing else will do,
I've gotta have you, I've gotta have you."
She put her knee on the bed, crawling over to him as he lay spellbound by her. He felt a shiver race up his spine, eyes chained to hers, waiting on her every breath. Marceline curled against his chest, her bloody eyes projecting a penetrating gaze through the dim.
"The road gets cold, there's no spring in the meadow this year,
I'm the new chicken clucking open hearts and ears,
Oh, such a prima donna, sorry for myself,
But green, it is also summer.
And I won't be warm 'til I'm lying in your arms.
No amount of coffee, no amount of crying,
No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine,
No, no, no, no, no,
Nothing else will do,
I've gotta have you, I've gotta have you."
The raven haired songstress, roused by fever dreams and pleasant poison, slid herself under the bedsheets. So stunned was Finn the the vampire queen had to physically pull his arms around her.
"I see it all through a telescope: guitar, suitcase, and a warm coat,
Lying in the back of the blue boat, humming a tune...hmmmmmmm.
No amount of coffee, no amount of crying,
No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine,
No, no, no, no, no,
Nothing else will do,
I've gotta have you, I've gotta have, you..."
Marceline fell silent, nestled warm and comfortable, the burning fingers banished by a solid embrace. Finn's heart eventually eased from its jackhammer pace, not his brain raced on. Moment by moment, he redigested the day; it felt like hours that he lay there, balancing every sudden change in his life against the inexplicably familiar feeling of Marcie's cool skin on his fingertips. He sighed, and on his inhale he caught a whiff of whatever powerful thing she washed her hair with. Shifting his cheek closer against the back of her head, Finn drifted off into deep, unstirring slumber.