A few days had passed since the incident at the Firefly Formal. Whatever damage that had been done was quickly repaired by the citizens of Wartwood. No one was sure how the Glow-wyrm had died, but Mayor Toadstool easily took credit to cover up the fact he caused the incident in the first place. Anne had spent that time recovering in the basement from her injuries. Fresh bandages wrapped around her arm with multiple spots of red.
"At least I can sleep to the sound of the rain." The heavy patter of rain was always welcomed to the young woman. Sleeping above the clouds or in the cold of space didn't offer too many opportunities to listen to the calming rhythm. Sadly it's interrupted with the door being kicked open.
"Anne, this is the third time I've called ya!" An angry Hop Pop shouts.
"What? No it's not!" Anne shoots up from the bedroll, annoyed at Hop Pop for disturbing her relaxation.
"It's not?" He scratches at his chin. "Well, this is the first time I'm callin' ya. Get a move on!"
Anne mutters to herself and follows the old frog back up into the living room where she is handed a rain coat and clear bags. Hop Pop is already wearing the ensemble himself, the bags wrapped around his feet. "We got a lot of work ahead of us. Put these on." He tosses another pair to Sprig before wrapping Polly up in the transparent film.
"What is this stuff?" Polly asks, trying to free her arms from her sides.
"Earthworm stomach, keeps the rain out." The elder Plantar explained.
"Rain? Hop Pop, we're frogs! We should be taking off our clothes!" Yells Sprig just as he's about to rip off his vest before Hop Pop stops him.
"Keep yer pants on boy, this ain't any ordinary storm!" Hop Pop peers out the window. The wind blowing so hard the rain was falling horizontally with a tornado in the distance. Wally flies by their house after foolishly trying to fight the elements. "We need to cover up the crops before they're destroyed! It'll be hard back breaking labor for sure, but it's gotta be done." Hop Pop opens the door, the solid piece of wood nearly flying off it's hinges from the force of the storm.
Groans can be heard from the rest of the group as they follow Hop Pop out into the extreme weather, causing Anne to wonder what sort of harsh trials her friends are being put through. She knew Sasha was as tough as nails, but Marcy? The accident prone tech-priest would have trouble surviving in the wilderness.
Far away from the storm clouds plaguing the southern mountains a bright sun's rays light up the white walls of Newtopia. Coral buildings lined the streets with hundreds of amphibians, mostly newts, went about their business in the large city. A yellow road winds it's way up to the structure that dominated the center, the castle. Atop one of the many balconies of the castle rests a pair of chairs flanking a table. The sound of welding coming from the one who occupied a chair, a red robed figure lost in her work.
Unable to notice the dark haired newt in the flowing yellow and purple dress with a tray in her hands. Startled into stopping when the tray carrying tea and cricket biscuits is placed on the table. "Master Marcine, you're suppose to be recovering. Not working." The newt spoke as she poured the hot tea into the cups.
" My apologies, Lady Olivia." The augmented voice coming from the rebreather before she pulls it down. "I just wanted to make a few quick adjustments before stopping for the day." A mechadendrite with a welder fuses the metal of a magboot in her lap, a white cast currently occupying the leg that once wore it. "And please, call me Marcy. My friends do and you and your people have been most kind to me since I've arrived." A small censer hanging from her hand, muttering a litany to complete her task.
Olivia waves the smoke from her face after taking a seat next to Marcy. It was a strange smell with hints of lavender. "Very well, Master Marcy." Taking a sip of her tea, Olivia takes the time to enjoy the scenery from the balcony. The city laid out before them with a perfect view of gentle waves crashing against the far off shore. Olivia quietly waits for Marcy to finish, the words are foreign but she speaks them with much reverence.
A few weeks have passed since Marcy was brought to the city. An event not easily forgotten by the royal advisor. A raging ball of fire fell upon their fair city in the dead of night, crashing into the merchant district of the city. Casualties were minimum, very few if any shops stay open at such a late hour. The metal beast had managed to topple four buildings before finally coming to a halt. It was loud, enough to wake the dead. Emergency responders were first on the scene, searching the rubble and checking for survivors. What they didn't expect to find was an alien ship that had caused the mess in the first place.
Awoken from her slumber, Olivia had dispatched the army along with General Yunan to assess the situation. No hostile force has breached the gates of Newtopia for over a thousand years yet this thing simply flew over it. The reports were disturbing at first. It took them over two hours to pry open what they assumed was a door. The metal of the transport had been warped and battered from either extreme heat or the stones beating it out of shape. Inside they found the dreaded aliens that were invading their city, or at least what remained of them. The ship had been battered by the stones of the buildings, crushing them in their seats. What was once their transport had become their tombs.
Only one managed to survive, dressed in red robes with their leg firmly wedged between the metal of the ship. Engineers were called in to help free this mysterious being from their prison. It took till sunrise to shift the metal apart enough for them to finally rescue them from the metal box.
Olivia had plenty of time to get used to the appearance of their new guest. Her gaze leaves the teacup in her hands and peers over at Marcy. The sight of the alien was startling at first, having features no newt has even seen. Her body encased in steel in various places, additional limbs attached to her spine. The x-rays at the hospital revealed even more augmentations running just beneath the skin. Even with their most advanced medical equipment it took Marcy waking up for them to actually start healing her. The only one who could remove the armor around her own leg so they could set it and cast it.
"There, that should appease the spirit." Marcy set her boot aside. "Oh, biscuits." A small tendril with a claw reaches out and grabs one of the pastries. She never had any troubles with the mostly bug cuisine the inhabitants of the planet used. Added protein helped with her organic upkeep.
The newt watches the human eat the cricket biscuit with gusto. A light laughter following it after a sip of her tea. "I'm glad you like them, they were my mother's favorite as well."
Marcy washes down the biscuit before speaking up. "You haven't once mentioned your parental unit before. Why the sudden change?" Her eyes glued to the woman sitting next to her.
"Just feeling nostalgic is all." Olivia smiled, peering back at the shore and mountains. "It's been so long since I've been up here with anyone since she passed and I just knew you'd appreciate the view. Despite your work habits."
"Idle hands are an affront to the Omnissiah. Though I find myself with a sever lack of work when I am limited in mobility." Marcy rapped her fingers along the cast of her leg. "Unless my proposal to study your anatomy is accepted."
"No no, that's quite alright, dear. I'm sure someone will come around eventually." Though Olivia has grown to accept Marcy's uniqueness, some things still disturbed her. She wasn't too keen to figure out what each tool attached to Marcy's back could do to aid in her 'study.' Quick to change the subject, she pointed to the gathered clouds in the distance. "Look, must be quite the storm over there."
Back at the Plantar farm, Anne managed to tie her end of the tarp onto the stake in the ground. The constant downpour making it hard to make out the figures of the frog family. "Last one!" Hop Pop's voice manages to reach his grand-kids and guest.
Polly makes her way back to the house now that they were done. Corralling the cowapillars had been easy, the covering of the crops had been the hard part. The wind doing it's best to yank the tarps out of their grasp. Just as she made it to the front of the house, Polly could no longer feel the ground under her body anymore. "Little help here, guys!" She shouted as the storm attempted to spirit her away.
Sprig noticed quickly and took hold of Polly's hands. "I got ya!" The gusts were unrelenting, now lifting both frog siblings off the ground. "Oh, Frog!"
"Hold on kids!" Despite Hop Pop's best efforts to keep Polly and Sprig from getting swept up in the storm, it had a hold of him too. The Plantar family would go the way of many frogs in Amphibia and perish to mother nature's unrivaled fury. Hop Pop waits for them to be flung across the valley like rag dolls, but it never comes. Instead a strong grip holds onto his leg. "Anne?!" He looks down to find the human holding onto him with all her might.
Anne's other hand was clenched tightly around the spigot embedded firmly into the ground. The muscles in her arms burning white hot as she kept the line of frogs from flying away. What felt like hours in the rainfall the high winds started to die down enough for Anne to pull the Plantars into her grasp. Hop Pop under one arm with Sprig and Polly in the other. A quick kick to the door and they're finally safe inside.
They lay in the middle of the floor, tired and soaking wet from their near death experience. "Anne, are you okay?" The first one to speak up is Hop Pop, looking over their savior as he stands.
Still glued to the floor, Anne gives a thumbs up. "Yeah, just wiped out." She manages to peel off what was left of the raincoat. Wincing once her arm is free, blood fully soaked through the bandages. "May have popped a stitch or two."
"You kids help her downstairs and patch her up. I think we all earned a nice hot bowl of soup." Hop Pop instructs his grand-kids while he makes his way into the kitchen. It didn't take long to get the pot boiling, slices of radishes and millipede dancing in the broth. Another dangerous day and a deadly encounter that could have taken his life and those of his grandchildren. Perhaps he was being too hard on her? Though he's not sure what would happen once Anne figures out a way to reach the stars again, he's confident that Anne wouldn't harm his family. She sacrifices quite a bit to do the opposite. Hop Pop hopes that the rest of her friends are just as noble and kindhearted.
The stew simmers over the stove, Hop Pop cleans off the counters as the food cooks. "Better check on the kids." The house was rather quiet, other than the rain and wind pounding at it's walls. Opening up the door to the basement and peering inside, Hop Pop spots his grand-kids resting against Anne. "Daw, must have been tuckered out from all the work and life threatening danger." He listens to the sound of all three snoring as they lie on the bedroll. "Hm, should really get an actual bed for her." Returning to the living room, Hopediah reads quietly to the droplets falling against the window.
Marcy and Olivia shared a quiet tea time on the balcony before Olivia excused herself. Being a royal advisor had to be a busy job, but Marcy bid her farewell. Luckily the Newtopian doctors had provided her with crutches to help her walk. Sadly she didn't have much time to study their equipment before she was whisked away by Olivia to meet the King. Such a formal affair, stiff with protocol that Marcy was familiar with. A brief welcome to their lands and the promise to nurse her back to health before Marcy was lead away to her chambers.
Free to explore the castle, despite her hobbling, the tech-priest scoured the halls for anything of note. The Newtopian architecture so alien in it's design and the incorporation of shells and coral. Though most rooms were empty she did manage to find the kitchen on one slow expedition.
This time Marcy was exploring another wing, peeking through doors and admiring various paintings on the walls. A cozy study lit by a fireplace and a grand library of books finally peaked her interest. She was close to snatching one of the books with one of her tendrils until a loud cough interrupts her. Turning to the source, she finds none other than King Andrias Leviathan sitting in an oversized chair.
"My lord," Marcy is quick to bow before the ruler of Amphibia. "Apologies, I was not aware of your presence."
A massive hand raises up. "Don't worry about it, Master Marcine. And there's no need for titles while we're here." Andrias looked more relaxed than the times Marcy has seen him in the throne room. His crown no longer sitting on his head while a pair of pink reading glasses sat on his face. Putting his book aside, he waves her over. "Come, take a seat. We haven't had a chance to talk since you've arrived."
"Of course, uh, Andrias. Like I have been insisting with Olivia, Marcy is just fine." A smaller version of the king's chair sat opposite of a small wooden table. With a bit of hobbling, Marcy takes her seat. Eyes darting to the board placed on the table. "I had assumed you were too busy running the kingdom to ever bother with my questions." She spoke up.
"Nonsense, I leave most of it up to Olivia anyway. I just handle the tough choices." The giant newt winks at Marcy. Taking notice of her interest he gestures to the checkered board. "Ever play Flipwart?"
"Can't say that I have. Though it reminds me of a Regicide board." Marcy responds as Andrias starts to set up the pieces.
"Well then I'll teach you how to play, how does that sound?" Though the pieces are small, Andria's large hands gingerly place the last piece on the board. A toad on a pedestal with a tiny crown. "I find chatting over a game of Flipwart is a good way to learn about people."
"It is more productive than my wanderings through the castle." Marcy nods. "I'll accept your offer. How does one play Flipwart?"
Andria lets out a boisterous laugh. "Very simple dear Marcy. The way to win is to get to your opponent's Wart, " He holds his own for example. "And flip it."
The explanations for each piece goes by quickly, the monarch and the tech-priest are soon locked in a battle of wits. The pool of captured pieces growing with each passing minute. Resting on the back of Andria's chair was his crown. Too engrossed in their game, Marcy fails to notice the single orange eye now spectating the game.