Chapter 6: The Nude Thief
"…Is that a leaf skirt, Finn?" Penny asked as she recognized the young hero making his way through the City of Thieves, discomfort present in both his face and gait.
"Kilt," Finn replied firmly, desperately trying to resist blushing seeing as he was completely naked besides his leaf ski—kilt. Kilt. It was a kilt. He had dumped all his belongings far away from the city, digging a small hole and placing them in it before covering said hole with a rock. It was necessary, as spending an hour or two drastically under-clothed was better than spending the rest of the adventure that way. But still, Finn hated people seeing him without his hat on, let along without virtually everything else, and as it was getting to be nighttime and therefore quite cold out, his nips were budding. Mad awks.
"Hehehe, looks nice…" Penny whispered as she eyed the kilt, her fingers moving in an obvious thieving motion as she slowly moved toward him.
"This is all I'm wearing. You steal it, you see my ding dong," The boy said flatly, praying to Glob above that a threat of that nature would keep people from taking his kilt. It seemed to work on Penny, who immediately blushed and ran way without saying another word.
And so it came to pass that Finn the Human Boy sauntered around the City of Thieves awkwardly, taking note of signs of destruction and trying to find someone who looked sane enough to question, all the while shouting, "If you take off my kilt, you'll reveal my boingloings" as a deterrent. To the surprise of no one, this gave him a pretty large radius to work with, and no one made an attempt at a swipe. Even thieves had their limits, apparently. Eventually, he came upon a horse, who eyed his kilt hungrily.
"Tasty apparel you got there," The horse muttered, Finn vaguely remembering it from his first stint inside the city, something about stealing an item as it was bathing.
"Boingloings," Finn replied simply, the horse wincing.
"Oi, what a creep," He muttered, Finn sighing at the measures he was being forced to take, and then clearing his throat.
"I might be willing to part with it," He replied, eyeing the horse's towel wrapped around it hoof, "if you would tell me what happened here."
"No can do," The horse replied, shaking his head, his eyes sticking to the kilt the entire time. "This is the City Of THIEVES. Not the city of barter. I could just tell you though."
"Oh. Really?" Finn asked, and the horse nodded. The hero thought that kind of made sense. Well, not really, but considering visiting the city had required him burying his belongings before-hand spoke volumes as to how bizarre this place was.
"Yeah. Marceline the Vampire Queen is what happened. Hussy came, terrorized us, and rode me out of the city. Sucked, man," The horse said angrily, stomping. "I mean, yeah, we're all stinking thieves, but we don't deserve that."
"…Nah, you don't," Finn replied, his heart sinking. How could Marcy do such a thing? Then again… she was pretty amoral at times. But still. Just causing havoc for the fun of it? He wondered how messed up she was feeling in order to act as such.
"Anyway. I'm gonna steal your…" The horse grew quiet as it noticed the leaf kilt at its feet.
"Thanks for the towel bro!" Finn said as he walked away, gripping it to his waist as if his life depended on it and moving quickly until he was well out of the city.
"I need to head north…" Marceline murmured as she swooped in lazy loops through the night sky, another of her favorite activities failing to instill any sense of comfort within her whatsoever. At this rate, the only thing she hadn't tried was playing her bass, but she knew that would lead to tears. And she was quite done crying at this point, regardless of whether or not it involved red onions, one of her favorite reds.
"…Maybe I should find someone to hook up with," She said playfully to herself as she whooped down into the forest where her small grotto lay. The idea was slightly appealing; a chance to get emotion out without any long-term consequences. Except, even with her rocking body and obviously wondrous personality, she hadn't changed clothes since she had left because she didn't have any clothes to change into (and had been too dumb to steal any whilst in the city). And while she didn't sweat much at all, just moving through the world had already given her clothes a rather rank odor. And finally, people just took too much… effort.
"Whoohoo! Free clothes!" Came a voice from below her, and Marceline raised an eyebrow. That wasn't what you generally heard when flying over a forest. She flew towards the sound and into the canopy, coming across a goblin rummaging through a stash of clothes and other items that, based on his face, were clearly not his.
"Dude, no thieving outside the city," Marceline chided before she could stop herself, the goblin leaping in fright and making a sound that could only be described as a raccoon imitating an operatic aria.
"Oh, just some stupid floating girl," He muttered as he took a closer look at her, smirking in blissful ignorance as to who he had just irked beyond belief. Marceline frowned, and didn't bother correcting the moronic goblin. Time to figure out whether or not beating the pudding out of someone who deserved it would make her feel better. Pity she didn't have her bass. Looks like he was keeping his limps, the lucky lumper.
Noticing the look of simultaneous anger and excitement on her face, the goblin gulped, perhaps now realizing his error in insulting a Vampire, or perhaps, as he looked like a pretty stupid goblin, actually realizing that she WAS a Vampire, as if the fangs, bite marks, and the fact that she was floating hadn't been indication enough. He managed to squeeze four words out before his decimation: "Hey, what are you—"
Of course, Marceline could have simply flown into him. That would have probably been the most efficient way of taking him out. But no, she wanted this to be a SHOW. So, she dropped down onto the earth, pushed off by means of her thin but powerful legs, sped forth at the speed of a freight train, and crashed her fist into the goblin's stomach. Causing him to spit up a live chicken, that began squawking loudly and immediately replaced the tension and rage with a solid dose of awkward silence.
Marceline regarded the chicken with a confused look for several moments as the goblin groaned, clutching his stomach, before she shrugged, picked up the fowl, and sucked the red out of its gizzard, the poor bird shrieking in terror and running off as she released it from her grasp. Thankfully, it would find a better life in a traveling circus of animals with color-based oddities, and live out its life sleeping as children stared at it during the day and jamming out on electric keyboard at night.
"Hmm. Tastes like pizza," Marceline remarked, licking her lips, smirking as she turned back to her prey. "Wish goblin blood was red so I could take a sip… or chug." She then lifted him off the ground by one of his arms, and heaved him as hard as she could diagonally, the dork screaming in terror as he flew. "Phewww!" She whistled, admiring her work as the goblin's ascent resulted in many a branch breaking; in fact, after the thief had breached the forest's canopy and was lost in the night sky even to her enhanced vision, she happily realized that she had made a nice little hole with which to view the stars.
Things seemed to be looking up until she realized she no longer had a goblin to pummel. "Cripes," She muttered, floating over to the stash the goblin had been inspecting. "I hate it when my moral compass gets effed up… I just saved somebody's, er, clothes, I guess, from getting stolen, and got to beat someone up too. AND I FEEL GREAT ABOUT IT. Whoo! Go Marcy!" The Vampire threw a few fist pumps in for good measure, a technique she had mastered after experiencing many a concert mosh-pit. Even if she was partially overdoing it to keep the feeling going, she couldn't deny the act had raised her spirits.
"Wonder what else is in… here?" She whispered, her voice fading and her eyes widening as she picked up a white hat. A very, very familiar white hat. She began to dig fiercely though the pile, her eyes falling upon a very familiar looking blue shirt. Stark realization began to hit the Vampire before something else grabbed her curiosity. A purple magnet? Marceline stared at it, wondering why on Ooo Finn was carrying it around and what it even was, turning the ends to face her without even realizing she was doing so as she contemplated the object...
"WHOOOOOOSH!"
"SWEET FRIES OF MY PAST!" Marceline screamed, dropping the item in terror; whooshing sounds had always freaked her out. "What… what the heck is this thing?" She muttered, poking it tentatively as it lied on the ground. "This is definitely Finn's stuff… but… no." She narrowed her eyes, feeling rage build within her fists, a desire for a new goblin to smack around overwhelming her. More like a certain candy Princess to smack around.
"Bonnibel made a Marceline-tracer, that shrewd witch," She hissed, raising her hand, about to smite the unholy device. Until she froze, tilting her head and thinking it over. "Actually, that's kind of sweet. As much as I hate to admit—"
"I am ready to get out of this towel. As nice as the breeze feels, being half naked in public is weird," Came a voice from nearby that Marceline immediately recognized as Finn's. Without thinking she grabbed the device off the ground, and became invisible, floating a good height above the ground.
Moments later, Finn appeared, clad only in a towel; a very small towel at that. Marceline put her hand over her mouth and blushed at the sight of the human boy nearly nude; he was so pudgy, it was adorable. "Well, that went alright, I guess… hopefully she's still around somewhere nearby," He said to himself, coming up to his ditch, and Marceline frowned, knowing that he was definitely looking for her. She watched with a slight tinge of sadness as the boy realized his stash had been broken into, and then blushed hard when he unknowingly dropped his towel as he sprinted over to the ditch.
"Oh, crap…" He hissed, looking up and squinting at the ground. "Goblin tracks! Dangit, I didn't think there would be any goblins around… guess Jake was right. 'If you burry something, a goblin will steal it.' I didn't think it was that literal though." Marceline tried to watch him dig through the pile of stuff with only one eye open, and her hand held in front of her to block out Finn's private regions. Some distant part of her realized that watching him dig around in a ditch butt naked was pretty hilarious, but she only felt embarrassed and saddened.
"…Huh, looks like everything's here," He whispered after a moment, sighing in relief. Until a sudden thought crossed his mind, and he looked down. "…Oh no no no, where is it… where's the Marcy-Polo?!"
Marceline glared at the instrument she held in her hands, mouthing "Marcy-Polo?" in disgust. That was an all time bad pun; heck, it barely even made sense. She had half a mind to fly down and kick Finn in his stupid naked butt for naming it that. And for following her when she had told him not to. Marceline frowned, that thought instantly sinking her mood.
"Dang it! No! I can't believe it… the one thing I couldn't lose, and I… Glob…" Finn curled into a small ball, sniffling. Marceline felt guilt wash over her as he slowly broke down in front of her very eyes. This stupid purple thing meant more to him than having to make his way through all of Ooo buck-naked? More like she meant more to him than that… but no, she had to stay away. She would just hurt him.
That argument fell flat as she watched the young hero being hurt directly by her absence, rather than her presence. "Darn it…" He muttered, striking the ground feebly. "I failed. That was it. I have no way to find her. I fluffed it up. Peebles will be so sad… and Marcy. I can't believe I failed her." Marceline knew that if she didn't leave soon, her resolve to stay unseen and silent would break. His words were really taking a toll on her heart; she could tell, because she already wanted to make a song about how terrible and gut-wrenching the feeling was.
"…Oh, Finn…" She whispered softly, much too softly for him to hear. Marceline held the Marcy-P, Glob dammit, the instrument up to her face, wondering whether or not she could find a way to drop it somewhere he hadn't looked yet. As she began to argue with herself, knowing that doing so would be aiding him in helping find her, she let the Marcy-Polo get a bit too close to her face, and…
"WHOOOOOOOSH!"
Marceline managed to hold back the exclamation, but was unable to hold onto the device; it slipped from her hands as it whooshed, and landed with a dull thump on the forest ground, breaking a pinecone. A pinecone that would be forever scarred by her clumsy Vampire fingers, good for so many things besides holding purple items when whooshing sounds were made.
Finn fell silent at the noise, slowly lifting himself up after several seconds had passed and moving over to the device. Marceline held her breath (a task always made easier when you can't breathe) as he approached it.
"…Whoa, the Marcy-Polo," He whispered, squatting and poking at it a few times, as if to make sure he wasn't dreaming. "How did… wait, it fell. And it went off." Marceline crossed her fingers as the hero's face settled into a thinking countenance, his brow furrowed and his fingers rubbing his chin. If there was ever a time for Finn to be stupid and not put two and two together, it was now.
"…THAT MEANS MARCELINE IS NEARBY!" He shouted, suddenly twisting this way and that and looking all around him. "Marcy! Marcy! Marcy!" He said again and again, until she finally sighed, lowering herself to the ground and reinstating her visibility.
"Hi, Finn," She whispered, causing him to spin toward her in amazement.
"Marcy!" He shouted, running forth for an embrace but quickly halting as she extended her hand and winced.
"Dude, please, put some pants on, or at least the towel. No hugging me with your boingloings dangling," She said flatly; nothing could make this situation more awkward than him hugging her while naked. Well, what if she was naked? Marceline smacked her forehead. These were not the thoughts her messed up brain needed to be having right now. When she lowered her hand, she witnessed Finn completely and utterly stunned.
"…Mai boingloings?" He whispered in terror, his eyes widening past the point of his lids actually touching his eyeballs as his pupils slowly lowered to confirm the truth. When he did so, he raised his gaze back towards hers, a plethora of bizarre and nearly unintelligible thoughts running through his mind. The one he settled on before fainting from pure shock, and uttered in a horrific, gravely whisper, was, "I guess now we're even."
With that, the young boy collapsed on the spot, like if someone had placed a few gravity-independent noodles on Ooo and had suddenly made it so that they were affected by gravity. Yeah. Just like that. But without the marinara.
Marceline winced as her friend fainted, shaking her head in disbelief. If there was ever a time to run, it was now. Dealing with her past and emotions with Finn was a bad enough prospect, but now she had to cope with the fact that she had seen him naked (pretty nice view though, eight out of ten), and when he woke up would have to deal with him freaking out about her seeing him naked.
Still… with a grunt of anger at her weakness, Marceline flung the towel over the boy's crumpled form with telekinesis. After another moment she thought better of it and moved his body into a shape that actually condoned rest, though she imagined he would wake up shortly from the cold. Somehow, despite his nudity, the awkward scenario that had just unfolded, and the fact that she was spitting in the face of her desire to stay away from the young hero, she felt comfort at his presence. The fact he had travelled to the City Of Thieves mostly naked to try to find her was also… well, odd, but sweet. Swodd? No, no, that was a horrible attempt at adjective creation.
"You weenie," She muttered, stretching and relaxing into a nice float, exhaustion both mental and physical seeping in. "I can't believe you just flashed me your boingloings like a thousand times. You owe me." Marceline smiled slightly, just a small curve of her lips; the kind her face made when she felt true happiness. "Whatever that entails, we'll see tomorrow," She whispered, turning away from him and lying her head onto her hands.
Far, far away, in the realm of the Ice Kingdom, the Ice King pulled back from his telescope, shaking his head in disbelief at the non-fiction gold he had just witnessed. "You know, Gunter," He began, pulling out a notebook marked only with the word "Aaa!" upon it. "I think Marceline and Finn are just friends, but I am DEFINITELY writing that scene with Marshall Lee and Fionna and shipping the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks out of them! Forest love, baby! Forest loooove! Gettin' funkee with the moss, diggin' yo fingers in the dirt, ya know what I mean Gunter?"
With a loud "QUECK!" the oft tortured penguin launched himself into his master, their two skulls colliding. The Ice King's crown flew off his head as he fell unconscious, while Gunter wobbled around for a moment before succumbing to head-trauma himself, hoping that his brave act might induce small-scale memory loss and save the world from witnessing whatever messed up ish the monarch had been concocting.
I almost expanded this into a longer chapter, but then I would have had to cut out the bit with the Ice King at the end, which I just couldn't bear to do.
I didn't want the story to run too long without Marcy and Finn reuniting, since they are the core of the story, and as such, they are reunited! I will reiterate they are not being shipped. You can expect some romantic tension on par with this chapter, though; small moments where Marceline teases Finn, or when their friendship bleeds a little bit into something more.
My muse has been kicking like a bottle of Cholula (so spice, so spice!), so I'm going to ride the update train as long as I can. Thanks for reading! Ps, Boingloings.