Hello! I'm not dead, just tired. Here's the chapter. Life is hard, work is harder. Too many revisions for this one (60k words AT LEAST). And also, I made garlic confit :)
In any society, whether developed or primitive, large or small, there exists a culture. Cultures are defined as the way of life for certain communities, and different communities, no matter how minor their differences are, have different cultures. These can span into various fields such as arts or religion.
Take, for example, the humble bloodthirsty toad. All toads across Amphibia believe in a specific mythology — it's said that the first toad was born out of a rock and would breathe the skies and sweat the seas into existence. The said toad was also very violent, enough so that he was eventually killed in battle by his demigod sons, who proceeded to hack his body into pieces and throw arounds, creating mountains and islands. There were also the Four Toad Relics which were worshiped by almost every toad. These include the destructive Barrel's Warhammer and the cursed shield Edmun.
Yet, despite sharing the same mythos and holy items, toad culture differed from place to place, demographic to demographic. The toads of the east, who live in great forests with trees whose barks were harder than iron, were known for their deep respect to the local flora. Meanwhile, the islander toads of the west were seafarers and sailors. Thus, many of their beliefs and customs involve the salty depths.
And that was just the toads too! The enlightened newts of Newtopia practice the art of divination and occultism, allowing them to read the stars and predict the future. Various frog communities believe in the concept of karma — the idea that good will is often returned with good rewards — and were masters of the seasons.
All in all, it cannot be regarded otherwise that culture, religion and belief carry a deep influence in the founding and persistence of Amphibia as a whole. So much so that a historian could spend his entire life and only drink a drop of that bucket. Yet, despite the overwhelming task, it should be a responsibility of every amphibians, whether frog, toad or newt, to study and feel these differences. Maybe then, society and its sub-societies may reach an understanding.
— Sir McClincroak, excerpt from "Brief History Of Amphibia Vol 1"
"Hey, Hop Pop? A bit of a weird question but do you guys have a religion?"
Have you ever had that moment when a thought suddenly appeared and before you could check and filter it to see if it was appropriate, it just slipped through your lips unobstructed?
Don't lie; we've all had that moment. This just happened to be one of them.
The Plantar family, a group of lovable frog farmers – they are frogs, not that they farm frogs because that would be cannibalism – were on a trip to Newtopia. They've scoured through the desert, dug into ruins and climbed up mountains. And when you climb up a mountain, it's only logical that you'd climb down.
And it was peaceful. Some would say too peaceful. It was actually a bit unnerving. With very little excitement occurring, this momentary period of inactivity was a bit... dull. That's when these thoughts appear.
Hop Pop, leader of the Plantar gang (not really), blinked. He held the reins of their transport, Bessie, whereas Sasha sat next to him. "That is a weird question. Why'd you ask?"
Sasha Waybright, spunky 14-year-old, tilted her head. "No reason. I was just wondering."
Hop Pop scratched his chin. "Well... We Plantars aren't exactly religious but we do have a frog-based religion." He said. "We believe that there exist three frog gods up in the sky that judge all of our actions and intentions. One god looks for all the bad, another looks for all the good, and the last one balances them out. Our life, all its ups and downs, are based on how the scales tip."
"Wait, is that why you call my string of bad luck the quote-unquote 'Sasha-Karma'?" Sasha asked, making the quote gestures.
"I didn't call it that."
"But we did!" A young girl's voice shouted from within their carriage, unseen but heard.
Sasha rolled her eyes. "Well, that explains something."
"What about you, Sasha? What religion do you humans have?" Hop Pop asked in return.
Sasha shrugged. "I'm not religious. But we've got a few of that on Earth too. There's Christians, Catholics, Protestants—" Wait, aren't these just the same thing? "—Uh, never mind. There's just a bunch."
"And you're not into even one of them? But what about your powers?"
Sasha laughed. "There is no way my powers are the result of some higher being like a god, hah! If that's the case, I'd eat my shoes." She said with a spoonful of snark.
True, she wasn't religious by any means but Hop Pop did have a point; she's got powers and from what she believed, a higher purpose as well. At least, that's the theory. She liked to imagine herself as some kind of a Chosen One, the saviour of the universe, the Hero to defeat the Demon King. With that kind of power, what kid wouldn't?
But if the theory was true, then that meant there was a god, probably watching her from the start and judging her every deed. Sasha liked the idea of being the Hero but being shackled to the whims of fate? That's a lot less.
She looked at her hand; it was pale and fleshy as usual. Not pink nor glowing with an ethereal pink aura. Just... a boring human hand. Even after a week, she still had no idea how she did that.
How did Anne do it? Thinking back, she remembered the Thai girl being crazy strong when they fought. She didn't think deeply about it – she was in the fight of her life – but it did make sense. Did Anne also get powers? If that's the case, did Marcy also get one?
She wondered how Anne was doing...
Sasha shook her head. Too many questions and not enough answers – it was getting on her nerves.
"Man, this sucks…" She muttered.
"Well, I still think you're neat even without your powers." Sprig said. He always knew just what to say to cheer her up, even a little.
"Looks like we're about to reach town. Sasha, why don't you get your cloak and have a walk with the kids?"
Sasha grumbled, her mood soured. She hated that cloak.
Stony Gulch - the town for travellers. Built at the base of the mountains, this strategic location made it a popular place for rest before continuing one's journey. It was quite literally the last town before entering the hazardous rocky heights, or the first town upon leaving it.
The Iron Mountains were a cruel and dangerous place with very winding roads, disastrous rockslides, and little vegetation or life. It was no exaggeration that if you run out of supplies here, you would quite literally starve to death. The entire region was inhospitable.
Yes, someone did build a spa but that's different.
So for travellers into the mountains, be sure to pack ample food and water. As for those who came down from it, be sure to have your wallets ready because heavy taxes existed and thefts were commonplace.
"'Welcome, Travelers, To Stony Gulch'..." Sasha read the sign out loud. She chuckled. "Heh, this place seems much more welcoming than Wartwood. Maybe I don't have to wear this stupid hood."
Sasha took off her hood. This was before entering the town's borders.
A nearby nameless frog stared at her and gasped. "UGLY! UGLY! UGLY! UGLY!"
Sasha put back on her hood.
After driving through the main street and finding a parking spot, the family of four got off their snail. "Alright, I'm going to get us a new map. You three can walk around town if you'd like. Here are y'all allowances." Hop Pop said, handing each child a tiny sack of money. It jingled slightly as he shook.
Polly frowned. "Grandfather? 'Tis but a mere pittance." She said with the most Victorian British accent ever conceived.
Hop Pop sighed. "I already told you; this trip is stretching our coffers more than I anticipated. Everything's just so expensive nowadays." He explained, though with a worrying tone. "We'll probably have to start foraging for our next meals soon."
He turned to the eldest of the three. "Sasha, how good are you at hunting?"
"I can kill."
"I don't like the way you say that, Sasha."
Soon after, the group broke into two: Hop Pop by himself, heading towards the nearest cartographer's shop to get some updated maps, and the children all by their lonesome with zero adult supervision.
No, Sasha did not count. She was part of the children's group.
And like any large gathering of prepubescent people, they headed straight to the guaranteed unaccompanied minors' sanctuary – the ice-cream shop. However, that's when they ran into a problem; they were low on sweet cash. In the end, all the bought were sad single-scoops with zero toppings. Only two of them could get wafer cones.
Sprig licked his vanilla-flavoured treat. "Well, at least we can buy ice-cream."
"Says you! All I got was a measly scoop in a paper cup! I didn't even get the cone!" Polly yelled with an indignant huff, her ice-cream melting into the tasteless beige container.
Sprig stretched his ice-cream to her. "You can have some of my cone."
"I want my own cone!"
While the two siblings showed their displeasure over their penniless situation, Sasha stared at her chocolate-flavoured cold delight. Occasionally, she'd take a few licks here and there, enough to keep it from spilling.
She hated to admit it but being poor sucked. She wasn't exactly rich back on Earth – she saw her financial situation as 'middle-class' – but she didn't struggle either. They were strained before but now, they can't even afford ice-cream.
ICE-CREAM! That's, like, one of the cheapest sweets one could get! This could not go on.
Sasha rubbed her chin and hummed. "There has got to be a way for us to make some money..."
Sprig heard that and his eyes perked. "Are you thinking of a Sasha Scam?"
She waved her hand nonchalantly. "I've got a few ideas. It wouldn't be bad to give it a tr—wait a minute, what did you just call it?"
Sprig blinked. He felt as if he just made an error. "U-uh... Sasha... Scam?"
Sasha immediately turned red. Not pink but its close cousin.
"COME ON, DUDE! I ONLY DID THE SCAM ONCE!" She furiously argued. "ONCE! ONLY ONCE! NEVER TWICE! ONCE!"
Sprig flinched. "Eh, sorry..."
"Well, what are the ideas?" Polly asked.
The teenager scoffed. "Oh, so you want to hear my ideas? Even though they're 'Sasha Scams'?" She questioned in an offended manner, crossing her arms with a scowl.
Polly rolled her eyes, completely unaffected by her tantrum. "Give it a rest, girl. My ice-cream doesn't have a cone." She bitterly spat. "That's a crime against frog-kind right there. I'll do anything at this point. I'll even commit murder. I'm a baby; I have plausible deniability."
"... How the heck do you even know those words?"
She shrugged. "Baby talk. Now tell us the scams!"
"They're not scams! They're completely legitimate!" She shouted back, though realising this was going nowhere. With an annoyed grumble, she held back her tongue and continued. "I was just thinking of us putting on a little street performance. Get some money that way."
"But we already did that with the play. We can't do the same thing twice." Sprig contested in a meta-sorta way.
Sasha raised her finger. "We didn't get paid last time. This time, there's grub involved."
Although she did give the troupe those scripts for free, they were still 'copyrighted'. Hopefully, once they finish their quest and head back, there'd be a very heavy check in the mailbox. But that was a future opportunity and was not helpful at the present.
Sprig scratched his head. "Well... what kind of performance do you want to put up?"
"Honestly, I was thinking of a dance show but I'm the only one of the three of us that can dance, so that's a no-go."
Sprig wanted to argue but Polly jumped in first. "What about using your powers as a show? I bet that'd be awesome! I still haven't seen it yet too!"
Sasha clapped her hands. "Good idea, Polly! Except for one issue: I don't know how to use them."
"What if I played my fiddle?" Sprig suggested, taking a lick of his ice-cream. "Maybe people would love the music."
Sasha hummed. "Hmm, well, that's not a bad idea but we need to make money fast and I've seen how much squat it makes on Earth."
"Wait, how is this different from the dance sho—"
"Ooo! I have an idea!" Polly shrieked, raising her flipper. She hopped towards Sasha, climbing up the teenager's arm and reaching next to her head. The pollywog then began whispering in her ear, and Sasha listened intently in response.
…
…
…
"Absolutely hecking way NO."
Polly raised her flippers in protest. "Aww come on! What's the harm?"
"It's degrading!" Sasha replied, only for Polly to scoff.
"Pfft, to who?"
"TO ME! THE VICTIM OF THIS PLAN!"
Polly ignored her. Looking around, she skimmed through the crowd for their first paying customer, picking whomever she deemed fit. That's when she saw an individual that stood out; a young frog woman in modest clothing, tenderly holding a baby much younger than even herself. The baby slept soundly in the woman's arms – presumably its mother – its eyes puffed and a single tooth dangling out.
"Hey, you! Lady with a baby!" Polly shouted, pointing at her.
The woman perked and turned in her direction, answering her call. "Hmm? Yes?"
Polly then aimed her flipper at the hooded teenager. "Wanna see her face? It'll only cost you five coppers."
"Five coppers for a face reveal? I must say, that's highway robbery! Why would that appeal to me?"
"It'll change your life forever."
The woman whistled. "A life-changing experience for only five coppers? Hohoho, that sounds much more appealing!"
With her baby in her arms, she walked up to the strange trio of children and dropped five pieces of copper coins into Polly's flipper. Gingerly, she stood in front of Sasha, eager for the experience that will alter the course of her life forever. Sasha rolled her eyes but took off her hood anyway; the woman already paid them.
"Boo." She boredly blurted.
In a period of exactly 1.78 seconds, the woman's expression changed. It was like a flip of a switch, her face turning from one out of genuine and positive curiosity, to pure abject terror. Her whole body recoiling in shock, the frog woman screamed.
"AAHHH! AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"
Her shrieks of fright were so loud, nearby passers-by turned their heads at the commotion. Even the baby in her arms reacted, waking up from its deep slumber and smacking its lips. Though blurry, the baby's first image once awoken was none other than Sasha with her hood off.
The baby wailed tearfully.
The mother and child ran away, their hairs turning grey by the second from exposure. The baby didn't even have hair yet and now, was forever cursed to have it bleached white for the remainder of its years. It will not remember what caused it to have white hair, for it was too young, but the mother will remember. She can never forget. She will never tell, holding the truth to her grave.
Meanwhile, on the opposite spectrum, Polly cheered. "WOOO! WE'VE GOT ENOUGH FOR HALF A CUP OF ICE-CREAM!"
Sprig turned to Sasha. "Sasha? Are you… crying?"
"N-no! Shut up! I'm sweating through my eyes! It's a human thing!"
Picking maps was a lot harder than he thought, much to Hop Pop's surprise.
In a medieval age when smartphones and GPS didn't exist (yet), a good-quality cartographer's map was crucial in everyday life. From the scopes of a small town to the vast reaches of entire continents, maps were key tools in any form of travel.
Want to know where the ascot store was? Use a map.
How do you go from one town to another? Use a map.
Where can you find specific ingredients to make a special potion to heal cancer? Use. A. Map.
There was no item in a traveller's bag more important than an accurate map. And oh boy, were there so many maps from so many cartographers. Hop Pop spent over an hour in that shop, looking at and examining various regional maps. He just needed one that would cover Frog Valley to Newtopia but there were maps specific to the Boulenger's Desert, the Iron Mountains, the city of Newtopia itself, and various other places.
But no map covering the journey. In the end, he opted for a somewhat older map that roughly showed the way. It wasn't as accurate as the up-to-date ones but at least it was much newer than his old map. Far cheaper too! It even had the mountain resort marked.
Successfully purchasing this vital parchment, Hop strolled back to Bessie, whistling a jovial tune with a hoppity pop in his step. But before he reached his beloved snail, he noticed an eye-catching sight; Polly and Sprig sitting next to a dark tent. They also had a small hat filled to the brim with copper coins
There was no way he packed that much in their little pouches.
"Look at all this money!" Polly exclaimed with a large smile, throwing the coins around, raining money. "We can buy, like, at least five more ice-creams!"
Sprig nodded, happy to see his sister ecstatic. "It's so nice for that backpacker to leave behind their tent and hat as they ran away screaming. Now we look like a proper stall."
"GAAAAHHH! MY EYES!" Another one bit the dust.
Perfectly timed, Hop Pop appeared, having walked towards them. "Kids! I'm afraid to ask but I feel responsible; what in tarnation is this?"
"WE'RE MAKING MONEY!"
"In a completely fair and honest manner."
"I don't like the way you say that." He grumbled. "And where's Sasha?"
Sprig thumbly pointed to the makeshift structure behind him. "Tent."
"Tent?"
Yes, tent. Going around the kids, the old frog entered the tent through its one opening, ducking slightly as he pushed the canvas away. Inside, it was a bit dark with only a single candle on a small round table being the source of light. Across the table, however, was a cloaked figure that he immediately recognised.
"Sasha? What with the ambience?" Hop Pop asked.
Seeing him enter, Sasha took her hood. Her eyes were slightly puffed and wet, and both her cheeks and nose had a tinge of red. Yet, despite her unnatural appearance, she acted casual – playful even. "Sup, Hoppity Pop. Like the place? We got off of some dude who ran away screaming."
"… Sasha, were you crying?"
"NO! I was sweating through my eyes!" She aggressively defended. "Enough about my eye sweat. Like, did you see the amount of money we got? I mean, you were only gone for like an hour. Or was it two? Eh, who cares?"
Hop Pop scratched the back of his neck. "Yes, yes, I saw. Polly seemed quite happy about it. Still, I'm not exactly sure of the nature of this operation. Sprig's description didn't exactly give me confidence."
Sasha closed her eyes and cleared her throat. She took a nearby towel and wiped her face, removing any of the eye sweat still left. "This—" she stated, gesturing at her face. "—is the money-maker."
"… I don't quite follow."
She gestured harder. "My face. I'm talking about my face. Polly was right; I am ugly. I'm a disgusting, horrible monster that strikes fear and terror into the hearts of frogs everywhere with nothing but a stare. So, we decided to make money out of it."
This concept was not new. If you're from the Boomer generation and went to circuses back before human rights existed, then you'd know about the carnies and show freaks. Deformed figures of man, put on stage just to make people feel better about themselves. They'd see this grotesque human being with an unnatural hump and think 'Wow! I am so glad I'm not him!'.
It was a stable source of income, to be fair, though for the price of humiliation and degrading oneself.
Initially, she was against it. But after seeing how much money they could make every few minutes, well… it was hard to say no.
Hop Pop frowned deeply. "Did Polly really say that?! Why, I never—! I-I'm going to teach that young lady some Plantar manners!"
The frog got up to leave but was quickly stopped by Sasha grabbing his arm. "Nonono! She didn't say any of that! She only suggested me scaring people!"
"That's still a horrible plan." He said, pulling his hand away. "Sure, you're not the best to look at but you're not a monster, Sasha. You're just... unsettling."
Sasha frowned. She already heard it all from everyone else; she didn't need to hear that from him.
"Now, come on! Time to close up shop!" He said, clapping his hands twice.
Sasha didn't argue. In fact, she didn't say a word in response. She didn't feel like it anymore. She lifted her hood back up, covered her face, and headed out.
Before leaving through the tent's flap, Sasha called out. "Sprig! Polly! We're packing up! I think we're done here!"
From outside, Polly shouted back. "You sure, girl?"
"Totally. I'm not feeling it anymore."
"... Mmm, kay! But I've got a couple out here who wants to see your face! Last customer!"
"Alright, I'm coming!" Sasha said, walking out and leaving Hop Pop inside.
Hop Pop sighed; he really didn't know how to handle her. He didn't like the idea of her putting herself in such situations just to support the family. He understood why but he still didn't like it. Maybe it was because she was a teenager, still looking for a place of belonging? Sasha was in the transition stage and still figuring herself out.
There's also the very, very, very small possibility that this was part of an underlying issue regarding how she viewed her self-worth and how it may correlate to the stability of her position in various communities.
Though, that's just a theory. A Hop Pop theory!
Hop Pop hummed. "Hmm... You know, this interior is kinda comfy!"
What was he thinking about again?
Outside, Sasha looked at the front and there, just as Polly said, was a couple of amphibians just standing there. Both wore peasant clothing like everyone else but she noticed theirs were a bit higher quality. She waved hello, capturing their attention.
"Uh, hey there. Sorry about this. We're actually closing." She said.
One of the amphibians – newts, in fact – was checking his fingers. Tall with combed red hair and light aquamarine skin, he was quite well-groomed. Sasha only knew one newt – Albus Duckweed – and he, too, took care of his appearance. Was this a newt culture thing?
The newt perked. "Oh, we didn't realise. Sorry about that." He said.
Sasha shook her head. "No no, it's fine! If anything, I should apologize. We didn't exactly have a plan either." She replied. "Still, since you've paid – I'm assuming you've paid – I don't see why you shouldn't see my horrible, horrible face."
"Oh, really? That'd be rad! Thanks!" The other newt cheered. Unlike the first one, this one was short and stubby. Very short and stubby; so much so that Sasha genuinely thought this newt was a child. But the low pitch of her voice with grouchy undertones pretty much proved otherwise. "Five coppers is a lot but, eh, we have money to spare."
Wordlessly, Sasha took off her hood and revealed her bumpy, slightly pink face to the world. The winds blew sharply, the ocean waves crashed into the rocks and the mountains stood still. That meant nothing, however, other than to provide a dramatic effect, especially for what's to come. She held her breath, waiting for the shrieks to come out.
…
…
… No response.
This was a first. Instead of running away, the newts were… examining her? Their faces shifted from surprise to bewilderment, followed by curiosity and confusion. This was, by far, the most lukewarm reception she'd ever received.
Sasha raised a brow. The silence was deafening. "Uh, you okay there?" She asked. Hopefully, she didn't just mistakenly kill them through shock alone. "Hey, say something!"
The tall newt blinked. "O-oh, sorry about that! It's just that your face is…"
Her face was…?
The newt turned to his shorter partner. "Are you seeing this, Kettle?"
The other newt – Kettle – scratched her head. "Hm… Well, there are a lot of differences. We're talking a lot! But I can see some resemblance."
Sasha became displeased. "Okay, what are you talking about?"
Kettle blinked, following that with a chuckle. "Hehe, sorry! You just reminded us of our captain." She answered. "We used to be part of the military and our captain just had the same 'overallness' as you. Kinda funny, right?"
"Huh?"
"What she meant to say was that—" He began. "—you carry a lot of similar features as that of our former captain, which was the surprise."
Kettle nodded. "Yeah! And you're not that bad-looking. Our captain looks way worse when she doesn't get her first coffee of the day." She then began to laugh silently. "One time, we accidentally brought her decaf and she literally blew up. Her hair was everywhere!"
Kettle and her partner continued to laugh, much to Sasha's confusion.
The laughter slowly died down, though only once they realised how awkward it was. Javi cleared his throat. "Sorry about that. Inside joke." He said. "The name's Javi, by the way. Short, sweet, ladies love it."
Sasha raised a brow. "Do they?"
"Well, I know one, hehe—OOF!" Javi lurched, an elbow digging into his stomach.
The owner of the elbow, frowning at first, then smiled. "And I'm Kettle. Don't forget it."
Javi and Kettle. A pair of weird names, even for her. Still, it wasn't the worst. The mayor of her adopted home was literally called a mushroom.
Sasha nodded. "Cool! Nice to meet you two. I'm Sasha and the two here kiddos are Sprig and Polly." She introduced herself, pointing at the other two who, in response, waved back.
Kettle waved back but returned to face the teenager. "Say, are you, by some crazy chance, related to our captain?"
"Unless your captain is human, then no."
Kettle snapped her fingers annoyedly. "Darn! Our captain's just a disfigured newt. She doesn't even have a tail."
Hearing that, Javi gasped. "Kettle, we shouldn't talk about that! That's offensive."
Kettle, however, just shrugged. "Captain doesn't mind."
"We don't know that. What if she's just very good at hiding her feelings?" He pointed out.
Hearing them bicker playfully like that, Sasha couldn't help but laugh. Whoever these two newts were, they sure knew how to lift her spirits, even by accident. "You know, I kinda like you two! Polly. Money. Back. Now."
Polly gasped. "B-b-but they saw your face! It's fair and square!"
Sasha's brows furrowed.
"On second thought, sure. Help yourself!"
Before the conversation could go any further, a third party joined in, coming out of the tent. "Sasha, I gotta say; your interior design is wonderful! Ever thought of cleaning up the fwagon a bi–" Hop Pop suddenly stopped, realising there were guests. "O-oh, I thought you people already left."
"Well, we did come here to see her face and we technically did, so…"
Ignoring them, she took the hat and grabbed a handful of shines before unceremoniously handing it to the newts. This was more than what they paid, something she did, in fact, notice. "Here, your money. And a little extra as thanks."
Javi staggered back. "W-wait, we can't accept this!"
"YEAH, WHAT HE SAID!" Polly yelled, only to be promptly ignored.
Sasha grabbed his wrist and tugged him closer. Instinctively, his hands flexed open, revealing his soft and supple palms.
Although he claimed to be part of a military, his hands said otherwise; bouncy and squeezable were not the traits of a soldier whose palms would've been rough and calloused. Either this man has never done an honest day's work in his life, or his life in the military was cushy and child-proofed.
Doing her best to ignore his squishy hands, she forced the coins into his grasp. "Take it. It's yours. Think of it as thanks for being a good listener, and I guess as a prize for not running away or puking on the sidewalk."
"Was that a thing that happened?"
On the sidelines, Sprig nodded. "Oh yeah. We even had to move a few times after the sheriff told us we couldn't do business without a permit."
Hop Pop's head swivelled at the speed of sound, turning towards the frog boy. "SAY WHAAAAT?! You two told me this whole operation was legitimate!"
Sprig shook his head. "No no no, we said it was fair and honest. We never said it was legal."
DING! That's the sound of bad influence.
"AND WHY DIDN'T YOU DO ANYTHING, SASHA?!"
Sasha shrugged. "Plausible deniability. I'm a child as well as a human being so, I wouldn't know your culture's laws."
Kettle raised a finger. "Actually, not knowing the law isn't an excuse that would hold up in court–"
"HEY, YOU KIDS!"
All heads turned to the loud and emotionally-fuelled voice. In view, an angry frog wearing a grey Stetson huffed. Based on his comically-large sheriff's badge clipped on his chest – seriously, it was covering his entire torso – this must be the sheriff. At least, that's what Hop Pop assumed. The kids, however, were very sure.
"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO KNOCK THIS OFF!" The sheriff frog yelled.
"And I thought I told you to mind your bee's knees!" Sasha said sassily, before snatching a few coins from the hat. "How about a bribe?"
The sheriff looked at the meagre amount in her hand and chuckled. "Hah! Do you seriously think that much is going to work? That's barely enough to buy ice-cream."
"Oh, I know. Pocket Change!"
Closing her palm, she wound up her arm and threw the coins at breakneck speeds, right into the sheriff's face. Most just flicked off his face but one managed to the squishiest part of it – the eyes. He shrieked in panic, assaulted by the livelihoods of honest hard workers such as himself. Never once could he imagine that money would attack him this way. "AAAGHH, MY POOR DELICATE EYES!"
"EVERYONE RUN!"
In a single swoop, Sasha ripped the tent off the ground and skedaddled away, followed closely by her frog family in a frantic. Though briefly, she stopped near the newts and bowed slightly, leaving the Plantars to pass behind her. "Thanks for the talk! You're, like, the nicest people I've met since I got here! We should talk some more! Okay, byeeee!"
"GET BACK HERE!" Right at the moment, the sheriff recovered somewhat, his eyes still strained with red. You couldn't tell if this was because of the coins that injured his soft retinas, or if it was just pure anger. It could be both.
He didn't get far though. Just as he began his pursuit, an aquamarine tail slipped between his legs, tripping the officer into the dirt. The sheriff and his comically large badge, both dirtied with muck, growled and glared at the newts.
Javi whistled away and Kettle held his hand, producing a cute and deceptively innocent pout. "Oopsie, sorry about that, sheriff~ You know how it is with us newts and out tails."
The sheriff grumbled but said no more. He simply got up, patted himself and continued to give chase. But that delay was all the frogs needed.
Goodbye, Stony Gulch! We'll never mention you ever again.
Following Sasha's advice, Hop Pop has procured himself a new map. Well, a newer map. It was still off by a few years but getting them to their destination safely was all it needed to do. Besides, why bother buying the newest and most accurate map? It'll just be updated next year and then, you'll have to buy that map at an even higher price. What a scam.
Though getting the map was planned, the hat full of copper coins was not. Copper coins gained through morally dubious and maybe legal-but-kinda-grey means.
Boys, is it unethical for a girl – not even a fully-fledged teenager – to sell her honest yet painful tears for money? The court has concluded with a 'maybe'.
Despite that, Hop Pop, living up to the Plantar name, chose to tell the kids about her anyway without her permission. One thing led to another and now Sasha, much to her confusion, was a captive of two little frogs.
Sasha wiggled. She couldn't move. "Uh... guys? What are you doing?"
On one side, hugging her tightly, Sprig whispered. "Giving you emotional and physical support."
"So sorry, girl. I didn't mean to make your life more miserable than it is." Polly softly said on the other side, also hugging her. Though, her flippers weren't long enough so it's more like she's just embracing her.
Sasha hummed. She did not enjoy this.
"Okay, this is starting to get uncomfortable." She exclaimed. She then pulled her arms free and easily pushed the two away. "Off."
Separated, Sprig and Polly felt the guilt come rushing back. As if too much to bear, they whimpered, their eyes becoming watery by the second. It kinda seemed like the hug was just as much for them as it was for her.
Congrats, Sasha. You ruined it.
She sighed, massaging the bridge between her eyes. "Look, it's fine. I'm over it. Yeah, I'm ugly. Everyone in this crazy frog world thinks I'm ugly. I've accepted that, even if it comes from you guys. And yes, even you, Hop Pop."
"What did I say?"
She leaned back, relaxed. "But you know, back on Earth, I'm like one of the prettiest girls in schools. You're just not seeing me at my best, that's all."
To prove her point, Sasha pressed her lips to a pout and sucked in her cheeks – according to fellow youngsters, this was called a 'duck face' – and began twinkling her eyelashes slowly and provocatively. This was a common tactic used by human females to appear more attractive, emphasizing their most supple facial features such as eyes and mouth. Sasha's beauty mark, just below her eye, also accentuates those features, adding some uniqueness to her complexion.
Note: This strategy is used by humans for humans.
Sprig cringed. "Eeeeeehhhh…"
Straightaway, Sasha frowned, going in the exact opposite direction. "Oh, so you don't believe me? You think I'm lying? Liar Sasha, the liar who always lies, whose pants are always on fire?"
"It's not that we don't believe you. It's just..." Sprig paused, thinking of the best way to explain. He came up empty. "Well, it's really hard to imagine."
Sasha frowned and crossed her arms with a huff. "I am pretty. If I had my photos, that'll show you."
Much like any other teenage girl, Sasha was equipped with one of the essentials: a phone. It could do all sorts of things, from using social media to doing boring math, or even something simple like taking a photo. And oh boy, did she have a lot of photos.
Sadly, this one item that could help her case was lost, kinda like everything else. She had no idea where it went or even if it came with her to this world. As far as she knew, it's just gone forever and the chances of her ever finding it again was one in a gazillion-quintillion, a number so big, it was impossible to even visualize.
The frog gods' scales tipped.
Out in the distance, she noticed a clearing at the side of the road and in it, was a rundown shack with large red letters set on its roof. Sprig gasped and awed. "Whoa, what's that?"
"That—" Sasha snapped her fingers to point. "—looks like a tourist trap."
Hop Pop chuckled. "Oh, Sasha! Why would anyone want to trap tourists? They're, like, the worst people in the world."
She couldn't disagree with that.
Deciding to check, they took a little detour and stopped a few meters away. In front of the shack, a group of tourists were idly chatting amongst themselves, their millipede-bus parked nearby. Just as they got off of Bessie, the door slammed open and under its frame, stood a larger-than-average orange frog wearing a full suit, an eyepatch and oddly enough, a red fez. He crooked a smile so fake, one couldn't help but flinch.
"My, my, is that money—I mean, visitors I hear?" The frog exclaimed with a toothy grin. With his cane in hand, he proceeded to do a little tap dance and stretched his arms outwards in a welcoming gesture. "Welcome, fine leather wallets, to the Curiosity Hut – home of the world's most elusive cryptids and caged oddities money can buy! I'm the Curator, the owner of this fine establishment, and I hope you're looking forward to all that money spending!"
One of the tourists raised a hand excitedly. "I am! I AM!"
"That's the spirit!" He said, swinging his arm jollily. "Entry fee is 50 coppers."
Hearing that from a distance, Hop Pop hissed. He loosened his ascot and muttered under his breath. "That's kind of expensive... Kids, can we huddle up a bit?" He asked.
Though responded with raised brows, they followed his request and formed a tight circle. There wasn't any need for it, to be honest – it wasn't as if anyone was listening – but it just felt appropriate.
Hop Pop started, clearing his throat. "Now, as interesting as this place is—"
"It's not." Sasha remarked.
"—I don't think we can afford it. Sure, the money you earned is plentiful, but that price was exorbitant. We'd lose half the hat in this one visit."
A hat full of coppers was a lot and half of that was… well, half of that. A considerable half, though. That money could be used for a variety of useful purchases such as supplies or equipment, maybe even Bessie's reins. Hers was already looking a bit worn out from the journey. It's hard to say how long it'll last.
Although Sasha wasn't interested in visiting a cryptid museum, that wasn't the case for Sprig and Polly who both looked dejected after hearing their grandfather's words. Sadly, he was right; although not said, it was better to use that money for other things and not overpriced tickets.
Yet, considering they couldn't even buy ice-cream, maybe they deserved some joy from time to time.
Sasha coughed, garnering the family's attention. "Well, half of it is mine, so… I say, we're going." She announced and just as expected, both Sprig and Polly immediately lit up. Even Hop Pop looked surprised. Sasha smiled smugly, making a heart with her hands. "Pretty inside and out!"
With the meeting adjourned, the family grabbed the money and headed straight to the Curiosity Hut. The Curator, busy grabbing coin pouches from his other guests and tossing them into his own, larger pouch, barely even noticed them joining the line.
As it came to their turn, he instinctively grabbed their fees. He didn't even need to check; he was a professional. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you—" Just as Sasha arrived, he paused. Unlike in town, she wasn't wearing her hood.
The Curator cringed.
"Sheesh, you're quite possibly the ugliest thing I've ever seen. Well, a close second; I've seen my ex-wife, hah!" He laughed with a slap on his knee.
Sasha closed her eyes. "… Deep breaths, Sasha. You've dealt with it all day. You can deal with it here." She whispered to herself, handing him her ticket fee.
Once all the guests were inside, the orange frog shook his bag a little and giggled euphorically before slamming the door closed. It was time for the main event – the tour.
"Behold! The unsolved mysteries of Amphibia, now in glass boxes and far away from wherever it came from!" He announced. The Curator walked to the first of many exhibits, all of which as crudely made as the last. "This here is a taxidermy of the rare rabbit-hare! Half rabbit, half hare."
Allowing the tourists a moment to examine with awe, he then moved to the next one. "Over here, we have a signed gold-painted disc from a frog known as Gold-Painted Disc Dave, who sold gold-painted discs."
One tourist raised his hand. "Are the discs actually gold?"
"No, they're painted gold."
"Is Dave made of gold?"
"No." The Curator answered, though pausing for a moment. "Well, I don't think so. I don't know. He's probably not made of solid gold."
"Is the paint gold?"
"If it was, I wouldn't be showing it to you."
Meanwhile, Sprig slithered through the crowd and crept closer and closer to the object. "Ooo, shiny~"
SLAP! "Owch!"
"Don't touch the merchandise." The Curator warned, slapping the boy's hand with his cane.
Sprig ran back to his group and rubbed his poor and vulnerable hand, though his mood was completely unaffected. "Don't you think this is all amazing, Sasha? So many unique relics and cool stuff!"
Sasha scoffed. "Oh please, all of this is fake, just so to pull you into buying overpriced merchandise."
"Well, it's working!"
Nearby, Polly burst out of a barrel full of knick-knacks. "I WANT THIS THING!" She screamed and, in her flipper, a grappling gun. With a dark chuckle, she pressed the trigger and shot the hook out to the ceiling, snagging onto the supports and pulling her up. "Weeeeeeeeee!"
As the minutes passed and the tour continued, Sasha found herself on her own, browsing through the various pricey souvenirs. If it weren't for the price, she would've bought something for herself, as cheap and low-quality as it were. Unfortunately, she wasn't going to spend any more, keeping her purchases to a minimum.
While looking around the store, a room at the end of the hallway caught her eye, its door opened slightly ajar. She couldn't see the full interior – just a desk and a bunch of papers – but inside, there was a curious yellow object.
Sasha blinked and rubbed her eyes.
The object was still there and upon closer inspection, she saw cat ears.
"… Wait a gosh darn to heck a minute! IS THAT MY PHONE?!"
Her eyes did not deceive her; as she stomped closer, the floor creaking under her steps, it became more and more unmistakable. The yellow cat-themed phone case made of rubber that covered her phone was something she bought on a whim a year ago. She thought it was cute and it made her phone stand out.
But when she arrived in Amphibia, it was nowhere to be seen. She had given up on it, frankly. It was impossible to find it and it wouldn't be much of use either. What was a phone without the Internet?
But it was still hers. And it had her photos.
Before she could enter the room properly, the Curator suddenly appeared, stepping in her way. "Hey! The office is off-limits! It's where I keep all my forged – I mean, completely legitimate documents." He swiped his cane and pointed back to the storefront. "Back to the tour!"
Sasha growled. She wasn't in the mood. "Not until you tell me how you got my phone!"
The Curator blinked and turned around. "That old junk? It was a gift from Frog Soos." He spoke.
"You called, Mr Ponds?"
Out of nowhere, a large frog, taller and wider than she was, poofed to existence right beside them. Even the Curator was creeped out. "Sheesh! Someone should put a bell on you."
Frog Soos chuckled. "Hehe, they tried."
The Curator went in and picked up the phone. He even tossed it in mid-air casually, much to Sasha's horror. "Where'd you get this paperweight anyway?"
"It's not a paperweight! It's my phone!" Sasha roared. "And be careful with it!"
"Oh, I bought it from some travelling toads a month ago. It really stood out! Though, they had someplace to be – something about the Toad Lords." Frog Soos replied, muttering the last part. Frogs like him weren't too invested in the politics of toads.
The Curator, or Mr Ponds as Frog Soos called him, smiled knowingly. "Well, there you have it. Now back to the front!"
Sasha clicked her tongue. "Give. It. Back." She barked, her pupils gradually turning a light-red hue.
The Curator was not convinced. "As if! Unless there's a price tag on it, it's not for sale."
"You don't even know how to use it!"
"Sure, I do." He spoke. He then put the phone back on the desk among the documents. The wind blew into the room and the papers did not budge. "See? It works!"
Of all the things—! This won't do. This won't do at all. There was no way she was leaving her phone in the hands of some scammer with a fake eyepatch.
She gritted her teeth. "How... much...?"
"What was that?"
"How much does it cost for me to buy it from you?"
The Curator laughed. "Ohoho! Bargaining with a cheapskate, eh? Well, how much you got?"
She pulled out her wallet – well, it was more of a pouch really – and counted her remaining coins. "I've got 12 copper pieces."
The frog frowned. "Really? That's it? That's about as much as a single scoop of ice-cream!" He crossed his arms into an 'X'. "No deal!"
Sasha stomped her foot in anger. "Fine! But I'll be back for my phone! And if you break it, I'll break you."
With angry steps, she left the premise, probably back to the fwagon to sulk. The owner of the establishment and his assistant scratched their heads and coughed awkwardly.
Frog Soos turned to his employer. "What's a phone?"
Now, tell me; if you couldn't get what you wanted, whether because it was too expensive or simply not for sale, what would you do?
See, the correct answer would be to just give up. If you couldn't get what you want no matter what you did, then there's no point in going any further, right? Well, that wasn't the answer Sasha Waybright Plantar got during her silent tantrum.
Plus, there wouldn't be a story if she didn't do some crazy stunt every now and then.
In the middle of the night, while everyone was asleep – frogs, bugs and murderous birds alike – Sasha, the mammal, stood awake. Getting out of her bed, she silently crept out of the fwagon, though not before covering a bag of flour with her blanket. She tiptoed out of the clearing and headed straight to the only building in a half-kilometre radius – the Curiosity Hut.
Reaching the front door, she pulled out a hairpin and carefully picked the lock. This was the second time she used this skill in Amphibia and really, what an investment it was. Quietly, she entered the building, its unlit interior giving the museum an unsettling vibe. Not that it bothered her.
While cautiously examining her surroundings, she slowly snuck across the store and through the hallway.
CREEAAAK… The floor creaked.
Eventually, she reached the office. Before attempting any lockpicking, she first checked whether the door was even locked; most people didn't lock their inside doors. There was no point. And luckily, her intuition was right as the door clicked open with zero resistance.
Sasha giggled.
Creeping inside, she immediately found her target – her phone on the desk – and snatched it without delay. "There you are, my beautiful baby girl." She whispered, giving the phone a sloppy smooch. It tasted weird, so she probably shouldn't have done that. "Now to get out of here."
With her mission successful, Sasha returned to the hallway, her phone in her pocket. And then, she'll shove those photos in the Plantars' faces.
CREEAAAK… The floor creaked.
"WHO'S CREAKING DOWN THERE?!" A voice shouted from upstairs. Her eyes bulging out in shock, Sasha hurriedly scurried away, like a rat involved in murder.
CREAK! CREAK! CREAK! CREAK! CREAK!
The owner should really get these floorboards fixed.
Just as she reached to open the front door, a knife suddenly shot past her, stabbing itself into the wall panels. Startled, she jerked away, tumbling onto her back. "WHAT THE HECK, MAN?! YOU COULD'VE HIT ME!"
"Well, that would've been nicer." The voice replied. Sasha turned around and the worst possible person greeted her with a ticked-off look – the Curator. His expression, however, was quickly replaced by a gobsmacked face. "YOU! You're that ugly thing that tried to buy my paperweight! You just couldn't let it go, couldn't you?!"
"Of course not! It was mine, to begin with!"
"Well..." Slowly, he pulled out his cane. "Give it! I know you swiped it! Give it, or else I'll beat it out of you!"
Sasha crouched lower. "You can pry it off of my cold, dead body!" Pushing with her thighs, she launched herself at the one-eyed frog, her arms bared like claws. The Curator did not retreat though, opting to charge with his cane swinging wildly.
"RAAAAAHHHHH!"
"GYAAAHHHHHH!"
While the battle of epic proportions was happening, let's return to the Plantar family fwagon. Actually, it would just be the Plantar family wagon, as the term 'fwagon' already had the word 'family' in it. It's like calling the automated money kiosk an 'ATM machine'; the 'M' already stands as 'machine'. Thus, it'd just be redundant.
Back on topic, at the Plantar family wagon, everyone (except Sasha) was sleeping blissfully, none having a thought nor worry in the world.
"Zzz... Zzz..." Sprig whispered as he slumbered. It was so quiet and calm, it'd be a shame if anything were to ruin it. "Zzz..."
...
...
Thankfully, nothing did.
...
...
Well, nothing if you didn't count the residents themselves.
Sprig's eyes shot open and his upper body flung upright, his eyes red and veined. "BWUH! HOP POP! IT'S AN EMERGENCY!" He screamed. "Sasha left the fwagon to get a magic picture box, and is fighting the scummy old man with a fake eyepatch! We've got to help her!"
…
...
In a nearby bed, an old frog, clinging to his blanket, rolled to the opposite side. "Go to sleep, Sprig..."
"... Okay." As fast as he got up, he slammed back down into his pillow, snuggling and snoring. "Zzz... Zzz..."
Not a worry in the world.
'Beware of the old man in a profession where men usually die young.'
Have you ever heard of that phrase? Essentially, it's used to describe the old man in question; in a profession where people die easily, the fact that the old man was still alive – to the point of being old nonetheless – was proof of his expertise. After all, you wouldn't be able to reach those golden years by being stupid.
The Curator – full name Scamford Ponds – was an old man. Old enough to have grey in his hair; assuming he had any; old enough to be needing dentures to eat solid food, and old enough to have wrinkles.
That last part may not seem like much but keep in mind that these people are frogs; they don't get wrinkles.
So it came as an unpleasant surprise for dear, young Sasha Waybright when this ancient frog was able to throw her through the wooden walls.
BAM—KRRRSHT!
It was a good thing those walls were rotted.
Smashing through the panels and pipes, Sasha crashed into the other room, rolling across the carpet with a pained groan. Her clothes were scuffed, her exposed skin bruised and scratched, and she was sure she was covered in splinters. She underestimated this old man, thinking that he was like any other old man.
He was. It's just that his less-that-legal history came with a few perks.
Her mouth felt weird. Wiggling her tongue along her gums, she pushed each of her pearly whites and with just a little force, one came off cleanly. Sasha spat the tooth into her palm, tinged green with insect goo.
"You son of a beet, that was MY FAVOURITE TOOTH!" She shouted.
The Curator opened the door and walked in. Glancing at the wall, he gasped. "And that was MY FAVOURITE WALL!" he shouted back. "I am so going to make you pay for that!"
"RAAAAAHHHHH!"
"GYAAAHHHHHH!"
With her superior height and reach, Sasha threw the first punch, aimed at his grimy face. Though briefly spooked, he ducked from her first and lunged forward, tackling her with incredible force. The air from Sasha's lungs fled the scene, and she was almost pushed to the ground. Almost, being the keyword.
Pushing back, she slammed her elbow onto his back and skull over and over, all while keeping herself upright. The Curator grunted with each impact but still, he did not falter. He tightened his arms and held Sasha in a strong hug.
Taking in five-to-six elbow drops, he decided to break this stalemate. He heaved upwards and spun like a roulette table, swinging the poor girl around with him. Sasha desperately tried to make him let go but he just wouldn't budge. Despite being shorter than her by a head, the frog packed a wallop.
After half a minute of spinning around like crazy, Sasha was starting to feel queasy. But she refused to surrender! This man has taken her phone and her tooth. She refused to let him take her dinner too.
BAM—KRRRSHT!
Good news, however, for this stingy old man has chosen not to take, but instead give! It's an early Christmas and Sasha has been a good girl, so she's gifted a facefull of – say it together – a door! The Curator let go of the rabid animal, tossing her into the room's only wooden door. Unsurprisingly, considering her hard head, the door vaporised into pieces and Sasha herself crashed into the Curiosity Hut's various shelves of merchandise.
The Curator stomped after her but upon reaching his broken entrance – also rotted, by the way – he gasped, clutching his chest in pain. "You broke my wall and now, you're breaking my door too?! What else are you going to break, you monster?!" He then whimpered, sorrowful and tearful. "My heart?"
Sasha groaned, pushing the cheap souvenirs off of her. "You pickled quack..." She huffed, though flinching with each breath.
God, that hurt. This would've been the perfect time to swear.
Seriously though, this was not going as expected. Sasha was always prepared for a confrontation – you kinda had to be when breaking into someone's property – but she didn't expect him to beat the snot out of her. Like, it started well enough; she dodged his cane and immediately disarmed him, kicking him into a counter. But when he started bringing in some street-brawl boxing and wrestling moves, that's when it all went downhill.
The Curator fought a lot like her when barehanded – but better. He'd take every chance regardless of risk, strike with ruthless and vicious intent, and especially like her, he was unrelenting. It was her best and worst trait, and he was shockingly good at it. This was a frog who had to fight tooth and nail with every cheat and trick he had in his long life.
Originally, Sasha didn't want to hurt a helpless old man. But he threw a knife at her...
"Had enough, you ugly brat?!" The Curator called, cracking his knuckles.
Sasha spat out some blood and smiled mockingly. "What? You're getting sleepy, old man? Need you midnight nap?"
"THAT'S JUST SLEEP!" He yelled, furious. "Oh, you asked for it this time! I hope you like the dumpster, 'cause that's where I'm throwing you out!"
"Bring it, you over-aged wet sock!"
"RAAAAAHHHHH!"
"GYAAAHHHHHH!"
Screaming is fun.
BOOM! BOOM!
Luckily, before Sasha could get her butt thrown into a different wall, a couple of unknown items hit the floor between them, smashing and bursting into a large cloud. Within seconds, the entire room was engulfed in thick opaque mist, leaving the two hacking and wheezing.
"AH! INDOOR SMOKING! MY GREATEST WEAKNESS!" The Curator screamed.
While coughing through the smoke, Sasha noticed two new figures in front of her, their appearances blocked by the cloud. Only their shadowy silhouettes were visible but something about them seemed familiar.
"Prepare for trouble!" A male voice announced.
"And make it double!" A female voice continued.
As time passed, the smoke slowly dissipated and they became more and more clear.
"To protect the world from devastation!"
"To unite all people within our nation!"
"To denounce the evils of truth and love!"
"To extend our reach to the stars above!"
Eventually, the smoke cleared and Sasha's eyes widened. Right in front of her were two newts: A tall aquamarine one and a smaller, stout green one. They stood side-by-side, posing fabulously, as if they're about to fight invisible ghosts.
"Javi!" The tall one said.
"And Kettle!" The short one followed. They then switched positions, changing their poses akin to that of an 80's anime.
""Newtopia's Night Guards blast off at the speed of light! Surrender now or prepare to fight!""
BOOM! BOOM! Suddenly, more smoke bombs appeared, though more colourful in nature.
"Meowth, that's right~" Sasha purred. She then gawked in horror. "Why did I say that...?"
Fanning the smoke from his face, the Curator gasped at the surprise intruding. Even worse was that he heard the whole ordeal and just by glancing at their unique armour, he deduced they were the real deal. "Night Guards?! This far away from the big city?!"
The two newts turned to him and posed in various martial arts stances. "Scamford Ponds! Or should we call you... Scamley Ponds!"
The Curator gaped, aghast. "How did you know?!"
Javi huffed smugly. "You did a really good job covering your tracks, having your 'identical twin brother' file in your 'death'. 'Eaten by grasshoppers' – the perfect cover. Everyone knows there wouldn't be any scraps left behind."
"But our captain was smart." Kettle inserted. "She just so happened to be looking at old documents for a different case and what did she find? An obvious error in your tax returns!"
"For your crimes, you will pay..."
Scamley gasped.
"... Your taxes!"
He screamed.
Sasha blinked. She took her time to rub her eyes and clear her ears just in case but nope, this was really happening. "Wait, that's it? Taxes?"
"Tax fraud is a very serious crime under Newtopian law." Javi stated. "Additionally, he's committed identity theft which is a different but lesser crime."
"Identity theft is not a joke, human! Millions of newts suffer every year!" Kettle roared, only fazing the girl slightly.
"Really? Millions?" she asked.
Kettle glowered but then turned away, her cheeks turning pink. "... No. I made that number up for dramatic effect."
With every second passed, the teenager only became more and more confused.
"Also, what are you even doing here?! Civilians shouldn't be in other frogs' houses and destroying their furniture." Kettle questioned.
Sasha blinked. "Wait, didn't you say you were retired? Also, you saw the whole thing? Why didn't you help?!"
"We were busy searching through his documents. His sorting system is horrendous." Javi said, though then coughing bashfully. "Also, we were looking for the perfect time to... A-hem! You know... 'make our entrance'."
She wasn't sure whether to look perplexed or horrified.
Javi cleared his throat. "A-and for the record, we are retired. This was our final mission before leaving." All of the sudden, he began to speak in a deeper and somewhat heroic voice. "Until then, we are still of the Night Guards, protector of civilized society, are here to apprehend the criminal, as according to Newtopian law! For if it is not us, then who shall bring peace and prosperity to the children? Only we are capable! Huzzah!"
Kettle clapped. "Yeah! That's so hot!"
Javi blushed, returning to his more squeaky voice. "Aww, thanks, Kettle. I did a lot of practice."
Sasha groaned. "Ugh, could you just arrest him already?! I don't want to be here anymore!"
"R-right!" Javi stuttered. "Now then, Mr Ponds, if you could come with us peacefully, then we'll mean no ha—where did he go?"
At the place where he once stood was nothing but slightly moist air, carrying a whiff of cheddar. And not the pleasant kind, for the record.
Thankfully, he didn't get far. In fact, he was still in hearing range. Just a few meters away, a loud rustling noise and several whispered curses could be heard in the hallway. The three of them – yes, three, including Sasha for some reason – ran into the hallway and straight to the office at the far end. Javi slammed the slightly ajar door open and inside was the Curator, some important documents and a small fire where he threw in the said documents.
He poked the flames with his cane and stared at them. "... Oh crisp."
"HE'S BURNING THE EVIDENCE!"
Immediately, all hell broke loose. Sasha lunged at him like a wild animal, followed by Javi but less animalistic. Meanwhile, Kettle removed her cloak and began smothering the flames as best as she could, retreating only as it got too hot.
"AAHHH! AAAAAHHHH!" The Curator screamed. Javi pulled the frog's hand between his thighs into an arm lock, whereas Sasha was literally just gnawing on his leg.
Although the duo was successful on their part, Kettle was having some difficulty. She continued to smother the flames but just as she moved her cape away, the fire only became more fierce. "GRAH! The fire's getting out of control! It's gonna burn down the building at this rate!"
Javi clicked his tongue. "Newts! Then we'll have to leave!" He then switched his attention to the girl beside him. "Sasha, right? I remember your name from this morning. Can you help us secure Mr Ponds?"
Sasha stopped biting. "... On one condition: I want my phone."
Javi raised a brow but ultimately nodded. The two shook hands, solidifying the temporary partnership. Pulling out a pair of clamshell handcuffs, Javi latched them onto the Curator's wrists. Once done, Sasha grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him onto her back. The trio, plus an old stingy man, then rushed to the exit, the fire spreading rapidly, charring everything in its path.
By the time they got out, they could only look back and watch as the flames consumed the building in a great orange glow, large enough to reach even the broken signs on the roof.
Although handcuffed, the Curator broke free of Sasha's grasp and ran forward, only to drop to his knees. "You maniacs! You blew it up! Ah, curse you! Frog, curse you to all to hell!"
The fire did not care. From wood to ash, ash to dust. Such was the dance of kindlings.
"Here, you should drink this."
Once the chaos has ended and the fires died down, the group made of two guardsnewts, a human teenager and a criminal were sitting around a campfire. It makes one wonder; why did they even bother to make a campfire? After all, They just had a huge fire a few meters away. They probably could've just sat around that.
Still, campfires were nice. If only they had marshmallows. Instead, all they had was a greenish drink, something Sasha gratefully accepted.
She took a sniff. It was very pleasant. "Owo, what's this? Tea?" She asked. Taking a slow sip, the greenish liquid flowed into her, gargling across her taste buds.
"PFFFFTT!" She immediately spat it out. "Eugh! Not tea! Not tea!"
Sasha laid her tongue out in tears. Whatever it was that entered her mouth was so rancid and vile, she was left feeling unclean. Her beautiful sense of taste, now ruined forever.
Obviously, she was exaggerating. She was 14.
While crying her gross tears out, she felt a wiggling in her mouth. Ignoring her plight, Sasha ran her tongue around her oral cavity and to her surprise, something has returned "Holy guacamole! My tooth!"
Nearby, Kettle chuckled, watching as Sasha clacked her two halves together. "Cool, eh? Instant tooth regeneration. Fixes your gums and gives you a nice set of pearly whites. A little potion made by our captain." She explained, taking a sip of a different drink. "Apparently, she broke her leg at one point, so she tried making a bone-fixing potion. Ended up making a tooth-fixing one instead."
Was there any difference? Sasha didn't know. She wasn't super smart or anything but even she knew that teeth are technically bones. Well, technically. If her Asian friend was around, then she'd probably say something like 'Oh, teeth aren't actually bones because they can't heal themselves' or similar.
Taking another disgusted sip, her set of calcium healed completely, as if they were never damaged. The stuff tasted like absolute dung beetle but she ate those before and this was worse.
Still, she couldn't relax just yet. There was a string of tension in the air that had to be dealt with. To start, Sasha coughed in her fist, breaking the ice. "So... We're cool, right?"
Javi hummed, writing into a journal. "Technically, you broke several laws for breaking into someone's home, stealing their possessions and then assaulting them."
Sasha took a sharp breath. "To be fair, that last one was not planned and the phone was mine to begin with."
"Yeah, that's not going to hold up in court."
"O-oh..."
Sasha puckered her lips and tapped her knees nervously. Was... was she going to jail? If she had a nickel every time she got sent behind bars, then she'd have two nickels which wasn't much but it was weird that it happened twice.
"However, you did help us in apprehending a criminal, even if unintentional. This wouldn't be enough usually but we can assume it's under 'extreme circumstances', especially with the fire. That boosts your standing substantially."
Sasha's eyes lit up. "So I'm clear?!"
Javi squinted with a smirk, pinching his thumb and index finger almost together. "Barely."
"Also, we kinda like you! You kicked butt and that was awesome." Kettle added.
Sasha punched the air and cheered. "Heh, heck yeah! I kick butt every day."
While she celebrated her earned freedom, Javi noticed the small yellow box in her hand. She had been holding onto it the entire time, never letting go for any reason. He hummed, scratching his chin. "I'm guessing that's your phone, right?" He asked.
Sasha stopped cheering and turned to her device, wiggling it in her fingers. "Yep. Let's hope it still works..." She whispered.
She wasn't a tech wiz, so she wouldn't know what to do with it if it broke. But all of her photos were stored in it, especially the ones that would prove to everyone that she wasn't unsightly by the standards of her world. Among other things, that is. She had other photos and videos stored in it too, many including her friends.
... Maybe she shouldn't check the photos.
Javi nudged her with his elbow. "You know, our captain has a similar device. She rarely ever uses it in front of us, but there are times she brings it out. It's actually quite amazing, being able to store precious memories. I'm sure yours have a lot of wonderful memories to share too."
Sasha scratched her head. "Maybe..."
Javi smiled. Standing up, he stretched his whole body and moaned in delight. "O-oh yeah, that's the spot. Phew! You ready, Kettle?"
She showed a thumbs up, then pulled an unconscious Curator with her. "Ready as I'll ever be!"
Javi nodded, before turning to Sasha. "If you ever visit Newtopia, be on the lookout for Captain Marcy. Tell her Javi and Kettle said hi. I'm sure she'll accommodate you after hearing that."
Sasha nodded in return. "No problem. I'm heading there anyway. I'm looking for my friends and that place is the best bet at finding them."
Javi raised a brow. "Huh, what are the odds, then? The captain's got someone she's looking for too. Maybe you'll be able to help each other."
Behind him, Kettle shoved her two fingers into her mouth and blew, making a loud whistle noise. Then, from above, a giant roundish bird appeared, oddly wearing a leather cap and harness. Despite her size, Kettle easily threw the frog onto the bird's saddle.
Both newts jumped onto the bird with Kettle holding the reins. Sitting behind her, Javi saluted. "See you around, Sasha! May we meet again in the future!"
Kettle whipped the reins. "Hi-ho, Twinkle!" She shouted. The bird accepted her orders and with a mighty flap, they rocketed into the air. In mere moments, Sasha could no longer see them among the clouds.
She gave a sigh of relief and headed home. And by home, she meant the fwagon.
The walk from the burned remains of the Curiosity Hut to Bessie the snail wasn't very long. Yet, to her, it felt like ages. By the time she arrived, the sun was starting to rise, its warm golden glow piercing the horizon. Carefully, she opened the door and softly plopped herself onto her bed.
"Haaa..." she sighed, her body turning soft like putty. It was time for bed...
...
...
CLANK! CLANK! CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!
"RISE AND SHINE, PLANTARS!" Hop Pop bellowed, banging a pan and ladle with one another.
"Ugh..." She groaned, grabbing a pillow over her face.
Hop Pop looked at her, noting her appearance. "Sasha, why are you a mess? Did you wrestle with your sleep paralysis demon last night?" He asked. It was hard to tell whether he was serious or not. "They're tough folk, that's for sure. Say, the last time I fought one, I had to subdue it with a full nelson!"
"Mmnng... Please stop talking..."
...
...
Suddenly, she popped up and screamed. "MARCY'S THEIR CAPTAIN!"
"Frog Jesus, why'd you scream?!"
"RAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"