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 Posted: Thu Mar 27, 2008 9:55 pm
This is a fic I started ages and ages ago as a Mary Sue self-insert. I then saw the error of my ways, removed myself from the fic, and decided to be a MagusxLucca shipper instead. The original three Mary Sue chapters are present on FF.net, but I have obliterated them here - the only remnant of my Mary-Sue self, Plangkye, is... well, you'll see. In any case, the fic is still not finished, so I'm rewriting it starting at the end of my Sue-ism to try and get myself out of writer's block. Here you go.
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Chapter One: A Rude Awakening
“You were gone for so long,” Magus said to the girl, fingers entwined in her long, braided hair. “I thought you would never come back from your other world.” He gave her a rare smile, which she returned.
“Wake up,” she said.
“Pardon?”
“Wake up, damn it!” she said again, her tone of voice not matching her face at all.
“I’m afraid I don’t –”
“Honestly!” she continued. “Every single morning – you’d think a wizard wouldn’t be the kind of person to sleep in all the time. Come on, you’ve been sleeping ages longer than the rest of us!”
Magus blinked, and the girl his arms were around wasn’t who she had been three seconds ago. Her long, coffee-colored braid was replaced by a purple bob, and her wire-rimmed glasses were now thick and clunky. “You!” was the last thing Magus said before –
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“Honestly! Every single morning – you’d think a wizard wouldn’t be the kind of person to sleep in all the time,” said Lucca, rubbing her forehead. “Come on, you’ve been sleeping ages longer than the rest of us!” She yanked at his shoulder to turn him onto his back, and at that moment, he awoke with a yell.
The combined motive forces of Magus abruptly sitting up and Lucca’s yank on his shoulder led him to tumble out of the air where he’d been hovering horizontally in his sleep, roll off the side of his bed, and land squarely atop Lucca on the floor. For a moment, time stopped – then, he was forced to realize exactly where his lips were as Lucca’s knee reflexively slammed itself in the most convenient place for it: Magus’s groin. Magus made a small, choked sound and rolled off of Lucca, who stood up angrily.
“What the HELL was that?” Lucca shouted. “I… what…” she spat, unable to come up with proper words.
“What happened to Plangkye?” said Magus cryptically from the floor.
“What happened to who? Said Lucca, still wiping her mouth.
Magus collected himself and sat up, more slowly this time. “Plangkye. You know, the girl who…”
“The girl who what?” Lucca snapped.
Magus furrowed his brow, thinking. “Come to think of it, I have no idea either,” he said, then muttered, “I can’t believe all this happened over a stupid dream.” Louder, he said, “You must be fully aware that this was your fault for startling me awake.”
“MY fault!” Lucca exclaimed. “How can you say that when you were on top of me not half a minute ago? Besides, I wouldn’t have had to come in here in the first place if you’d just wake up at a decent hour like the rest of us! Marle and I have eaten breakfast already! I’m just grateful she didn’t see anything!”
“If she had, both of you would probably be dead,”
“Wait, who would be dead if I saw someone on top of you half a minute ago?” said Marle, who had been drawn to the door by the commotion.
Lucca moaned.
-----------------------------------------
“Seriously?” asked Marle. “Magus has bad dreams?”
Lucca sighed. Probably even more than I do, she thought, but aloud, she said, “It would appear so.” She had brought Marle aside to explain what had happened while Magus badgered the castle kitchen staff to cook something for him.
“Sucks that you had to have him fall on you,” said Marle, making a face. “I’d have probably died if it was me instead of you. Or something.”
Lucca sighed. Already the day was off to a positively awful start, and yesterday had been no picnic either – particularly, she noted, the part that literally had been a picnic, since Marle’s royal upbringing had never included cooking lessons. She’d had stomach cramps all day after eating what the princess had produced – did wild parsnips even grow in Guardia Forest? – and that had made the battle with Yakra’s thirteenth-generation grandchild even less pleasant. Worse yet, after the single high point of Marle making up with her father, dinner had been something Lucca was allergic to, and everything else was at the other end of the overlong table. Lucca hated formal events anyway, mainly because her grease-stained vest was about the only thing in the world she ever thought comfortable. And then, the next morning, just when she thought everything was over… she shuddered. It had taken a full thirty minutes to explain to Marle exactly what had been going on.
The sounds of explosions emanated from the kitchen, jerking Lucca and Marle away from their conversation. Lucca swore. “Shouldn’t have left him alone,” she murmured. “Come on, Marle, we need to throw a blanket over this fire.”
Marle nodded and followed Lucca to the kitchen, where a pair of mildly-singed chefs were putting out a fire on the stovetop and a third held a plate full of Magus’s breakfast.
“Apparently, explosions are commonplace here,” said Magus blandly as he took the plate. “Tell your father that his staff needs safer equipment.” He turned and walked from the kitchen to the dining room as Lucca and Marle watched, mouths agape at his utter calm.
“He’s crazy,” Marle concluded as soon as he’d turned the corner. “But he’s right. Things blow up all the time in the kitchens.”
Lucca nodded. “Mine too,” she said, “but only when Dad cooks.”
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Posted: Thu Mar 27, 2008 9:57 pm
Chapter Two: A Second Rude Awakening
Lucca was repairing something in Epoch’s engines again. She wasn’t sure what, just that it required fixing, and that was enough. Someone was behind her. “Hello, Crono,” she said without looking up.
“Good morning, Lucca,” said Crono. “Can you stop what you’re doing for a moment? I need to tell you something.”
Lucca put down her pliers and shucked off her thick work gloves, then turned and leaned against Epoch. “Yes?” she said, wiping at a persistent grease stain on her face.
“I need to tell you something,” Crono repeated, stepping nearer. He took Lucca’s hand. Her breath quickened.
“You’re… well, I don’t know what we – I – would do without you,” he said to her. “The truth… the truth is that Marle is really annoying. She showed up and started being my girlfriend without asking me or anything.”
Lucca was suddenly acutely aware of her pulse. “Crono…”
“Lucca…”
And with that, he planted his lips firmly upon hers. Lucca couldn’t believe it. It was finally happening. She pressed herself closer, returning all the vigor of Crono’s kiss – and oh, he was good. Very good. Lucca twined her arms around Crono, feeling his body against hers, running her fingers through his long hair, almost down to his waist…
Almost down to his waist…
Almost down to his waist…
Almost down to his waist…
Almost down to his waist?
Lucca opened her eyes, and gained full view of a sharply pointed ear. And blue hair. And grayish skin.
She awoke from her nightmare with a piercing shriek, disentangled herself from her bedroll, then promised herself as she wiped away sweat that Marle was absolutely never going to cook again.
Rustling in the bushes. Lucca’s head snapped around – a pale, human shape was crashing through the underbrush. “Ow,” it said in a feminine voice. Marle. Judging by her choice of attire (undergarments), she’d gotten up hastily.
“Marle?” Lucca asked. “What are you doing up?”
“Well, I was going to get a drink because of all the salt I put in our dinner, and then I heard you screaming so I thought maybe you saw a great big spider or something but then I remembered you sometimes like to watch spiders so that couldn’t be it, so I came over here to see what was wrong,” she said, failing to verbally punctuate correctly.
“That reminds me,” said Lucca. “You’re never cooking again. Not only was it entirely too salty, it gave me nightmares.”
“Like really really big spiders?”
“No,” said Lucca. “I don’t mind spiders. If they’re big I can just burn them. This was worse.”
“Worse than giant spiders?” Marle asked, unbelieving.
“Yes.”
Pause.
“Well, what was it?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Come on,” Marle wheedled. “Daddy always said that if you talk about something it’s less scary.” Ever since she’d come to terms with her father, Marle had suddenly been reveling in being a princess, pulling out his name seemingly once every ten minutes. This time, however, it made sense.
Lucca considered how she would recount her dream without letting on that she’d been, at first, kissing Crono. She decided to cut directly to the chase. “It was Magus,” she said.
“Oh?” Marle asked. “Yeah, he’s scary sometimes. Was he a bad guy again? Did he turn traitor?”
“No,” said Lucca. “Worse.”
“What’d he do?”
Lucca took a deep breath. “Kissed me,” she said, her face turning red. “A lot.”
Marle seemed to be, for once, at a loss for words. She stared at Lucca, then finally said, “Okay, that’s worse.” She patted Lucca on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll start up the campfire again and make you some hot chocolate.” She stood up, but Lucca grabbed her wrist to stop her.
“No you won’t,” she told her. “Remember, I don’t trust you with anything culinary anymore, even if it’s just mixing powder into boiling water. I’ll make it myself.”
Marle shrugged. “If you say so,” she said, and returned to her bedroll, which, Lucca noticed, was zipped onto Crono’s. Lucca shook her head and sighed, glad she hadn’t told the whole story.
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Posted: Thu Mar 27, 2008 10:02 pm
Chapter Three: Sun Stone
Lucca sat alone on the dock where Epoch, at that particular moment, wasn’t. She was near where Magus normally stood, though he was similarly absent, having taken Marle and Ayla with him to the ruined Sun Palace. Remembering the things she’d heard of the Sun Stone’s properties, she wished she could have gone with him in Marle’s place, but for some unknowable reason he’d handpicked the two blondes. Since when is he in charge, anyway? Lucca thought as she gazed over the mists of what timelines had never come to pass. If it had been anyone besides Magus, she’d have chalked the decision up to fair hair and large bosoms, but when she tried to think of Magus in that way, it had the effect of breaking something in her mind. She turned away from the inky blackness, toward the lamppost where Gaspar quietly snored. Crono and Frog were conversing with each other, exchanging sword techniques, and Robo was switched off. Even though no time had actually passed, it seemed like it had been ages since Epoch had taken off for the post-apocalyptic future: the End of Time had a curious way of distorting one’s perception, and that distortion almost always led to unbearable boredom.
“You’re in my spot,” drawled a voice behind her.
Damn. They were back.
“I don’t see your name etched in any of these stones, Maggot,” Lucca snapped by way of a reply. “If you want me to get up, make me.”
“I shall choose to ignore your feeble attempt at an insult, Grease Monkey,” Magus shot back. “And like it or not, you are occupying my spot. I advise you to leave, before I take up your challenge and forcibly remove you. Let me assure you, I have no intention of bothering to be gentle, either.” He waved a hand absently at Marle and Ayla. “Just look at them, returning to their own favored locations like good little girls. And you, for no apparent reason whatsoever, decide to take mine instead.”
“You personally chose those ‘good little girls’ for your mission to Sun Palace,” Lucca replied. “Why in the world did you choose them of all people? Don’t tell me you’ve got a thing for blondes… I’d never have guessed, after what you did yesterday morning.”
“For your information,” Magus sneered, “I picked them for their abilities, not their hair color. The Prehistoric Prostitute is a useful asset when it comes to ferreting out treasures. Princess Airhead is, I must admit, a far better healer than either she or your pet golem, and there is no way in hell I would take the Amphibian.” His mouth twisted in distaste. “And I would request that you kindly not remind me of yesterday morning’s fiasco.”
“I don’t exactly relish the memory myself,” said Lucca, mentally debating whether it would be more satisfying to just push the whole thing under the rug or to never let Magus forget it. “And Robo is not a golem, he is a robot,” she finished.
“That’s even worse. Now, will you please leave my personal space, as while any distance is much too near, further is better.”
“All right, I’ll go somewhere else! But only because I’m sick of arguing with you!” Lucca left in a huff, and took her normal place near Gaspar. “I can’t believe you didn’t invite me,” she shot at Marle.
“Oh yeah! Yeah, Lucca, you gotta see this! We put the Moon Stone in Ayla’s time, and then went to the future, and it wasn’t there, and we went back to our time, and it still wasn’t there, and the mayor’s house was glowing in Porre, and he said he didn’t have it, and so we gave his ancestor some jerky and then he gave us the stone.” Marle inhaled sharply, out of breath from her run-on sentence. “And then we put it back and we’re about to go back to the future to get it and do you want to come?”
Lucca rubbed her temples. “First,” she said, “please learn how to punctuate when you talk. Second, I most certainly do. Lead the way.”
“Okay!” said Marle, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. “Come on, Crono, let’s show Lucca the Moon Stone!”
“Sun Stone.”
“Yeah, Sun Stone!” Marle amended, and grabbed Lucca’s wrist to drag her back to Epoch, with Crono following. Lucca shot Magus her most venomous glare, which he obliterated with his own –far more practiced – as Lucca settled into the pilot’s seat. There go two idiots and a smartass, Magus thought as Epoch’s engines fired up.
“Set course for 2100,” Lucca murmured, then turned to Marle. “You’ll have to give me directions, since you’re the only one here who’s been there. And you will not get us lost. That’s an imperative, not an assurance.”
“A what?”
“Never mind. Just tell me, did you actually fly anywhere after you took off?”
“Nope!”
“That’s good, then, we’ll come out –”
Epoch broke out of the space between times, hovering over a vaguely heart-shaped island with a high rock spire, tall enough to break the clouds, at its center.
“– right on top of it,” Lucca finished. “This the place?”
“Yep! The cave’s over...” Marle squinted, then pointed. “There,” she said.
Lucca maneuvered Epoch down through the howling winds and landed near the mouth of the cave. She wrapped a weatherproof cloak around herself and retracted the canopy, and the three of them made for the cave.
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Crono and Marle sat together on the sofa in Lucca’s house. Lucca had been near-ecstatic upon discovery of the Sun Stone, and had rushed it back to her house to begin experiments on it immediately. She’d been working for hours, murmuring to herself, to determine a safe and reliable way of extracting the energy of the Stone and storing it in a more portable container. Finally, with a shout of jubilation, she held aloft a small cartridge, which she then placed in the ammunition slot of her gun. “And it’s finished!” she said triumphantly, leaping up and twirling about the room. She dropped into a battle stance and pointed the gun at various places around the room, finishing with it aimed directly at Marle’s chest. “One Wondershot, now in possession of its inventor, Lucca Ashtear! Sometimes I amaze myself.”
“It’s very nice,” said Marle, “but could you point it the other way? You’re creeping me out.”
“Relax, it’s not active,” Lucca assured her, and clicked the trigger to demonstrate. Sure enough, nothing happened besides Marle jumping about a foot. “But I’ll put it away if it makes you feel better.” She struck one last pose, then clipped the gun to a strap so she could easily carry it across her back.
Taban, standing in the doorway, applauded. “That’s my girl,” he said proudly. “Now, Lucca, are your friends staying for dinner?”
“Dunno. What’s to eat?” Crono asked.
“Oh, maybe I could make some of that cheese and broccoli casserole you liked so much last time you were here? Oh, come on, you should eat your vegetables,” he said when Marle looked unsure of his proposed creation. “Lucca and Crono can vouch for it, can’t they?”
“Seriously,” Lucca told her, “it’s really good. It’s got ham in it too.”
“What kind of cheese?” Marle asked, still dubious. “Because Crono eats just about anything, and Lucca’s sort of…”
“Mozzarella,” said Lucca and Taban at the same time.
“I’ve never heard of mozzarella in a casserole! Isn’t that kind of weird?”
Taban raised his eyebrows. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, young lady! I know how to cook my own invention!” He laughed. “Just you wait. I promise you that you will enjoy my cooking, and if you don’t, I shall personally prepare Her Royal Highness a meal of her own taste.” He swept a theatrically low bow.
Lucca snickered. Her father had no idea of the accuracy of his statement. “He’s like this with me too,” she whispered to Marle. “Except I only get it when he’s improvising, not when it’s something he’s made before.”
“Good,” Marle replied.
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Posted: Fri Mar 28, 2008 12:34 pm
Chapter Four: Girl Time
Dinner proved surprisingly pleasant. Lucca’s mother, who had not yet met Marle, was almost overly animated for a woman who had lost the use of both her legs; however, whenever Marle began to show signs of curiosity on the subject, Lucca steered the conversation in a different direction. Marle decided that, despite her expectations, Taban’s casserole was indeed excellent, probably due to the fact that she “wasn’t used to this kind of mozzarella.”
“What? What kind of mozzarella do you normally eat?” asked Taban, incredulous.
“The kind that’s much whiter and softer,” said Marle. “I’ve never had this kind before.”
“What are you, some kind of nobility?” Taban asked, incredulous.
Marle laughed awkwardly. “Something like that,” she said. “I’m going to get so fat from this… I bet I’ll be ten pounds heavier tomorrow.”
“Marle,” said Lucca, “that’s impossible. You haven’t eaten ten pounds of food.”
“I still shouldn’t eat so much heavy food,” said Marle, slightly red. “And there’s so much left!”
“That’s all right,” said Lara. “This stuff keeps. Taban and I will have more of it tomorrow. So, what’s it like, treasure hunting and seeing the world?”
“It’s… well, I dunno,” Crono replied. “Sort of dangerous, I guess, but it lets me practice with my sword. I’ve gotten a lot better. And we’ve found some neat stuff. There was some great treasure up in the Denadoro Mountains.”
“The Denadoros?” asked Taban, furrowing his brow. “But there’s no path there! How did you ever find your way down? The last records of any traveling there are from four hundred years ago!”
“Er,” said Crono feebly, “it’s a mountain, right? Pretty easy to tell which way down is once you’re up, I guess…”
“And Ayla’s a good tracker,” Marle chimed in. Lucca elbowed her, and Marle realized what she’d said. “Um, she’s sort of this person we met while we were in the wilderness somewhere,” she explained.
Lucca nodded. “Not the most articulate, but good to have around,” she added. “Never gets lost. She must have an internal compass like some animals.”
“Well, we’d love to meet her someday!” said Lara, smiling. “Bring her around next time you’re in the neighborhood, all right?”
Lucca gulped and tried to think of an excuse not to bring a Cro-Magnon woman to dinner. “She’ll eat you out of house and home,” she decided to say. “And she doesn’t really like civilization that much. I could ask her, but…”
“Well, if she decides to come, she’s welcome,” said Lara. “Are your friends staying the night, Lucca? We can set up the sofa as a bed for Crono, and Taban can bring the cot down from the attic so… Marle, is it? can sleep in your room.”
Lucca sighed at the thought of sharing a room with Marle overnight, but it was a whole lot better than Marle spending the night downstairs with Crono. Her parents wouldn’t have allowed that anyway. Who knew – Marle wasn’t so bad when she wasn’t all over Crono, so it might even be fun at best, and at worst, it wouldn’t be awful. Too bad we don’t have any common interests, Lucca mused. While Marle shopped for expensive new clothes, Lucca shopped for expensive new power tools. Her wardrobe consisted mainly of several identical-but-for-grease-stains copies of her orange vest and green turtleneck, with two pairs of long pants for cold weather and a dress she hadn’t worn in years.
“Great, this’ll be fun!” piped Marle, oblivious to the awkward differences. “Come on, Lucca, let’s go upstairs! We haven’t just sat and talked in soo long!”
“Yeah, great,” said Lucca with a halfhearted smile. “I’ll have to clean up a little to make room, my floor is covered with books.” And all kinds of books, from superhero comics to scientific treatises. “I have, uh…” She paused for a moment, thinking on what might possibly interest Marle. “A hairbrush,” she decided, “and I can probably find some old rubber bands from when my hair was longer.” With a mechanic daughter and a mother who almost never went out, Lucca’s house suffered from a severe dearth of beauty supplies. As she helped to clear the table, Lucca tried to convince herself that the impending ‘girl time’ would be fun.
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Marle turned out to be a surprisingly entertaining companion when she wasn’t in Crono’s presence. Lucca had expected her to be unbearably slow, but she was in fact fairly well educated, if lacking in common sense (Lucca still had not forgotten the words “Say, what does this button do?” that Marle had uttered in Arris Dome). She was even fun as long as Lucca steered the conversation away from Crono. If he was not mentioned, Marle’s constant reminder of Lucca’s utter lack of feminine charm was tiny enough to forget completely. Marle’s sense of humor also turned out to be a breath of fresh air: Lucca could tell all of her stupidest jokes, at which her parents usually simply rolled their eyes, and have them appreciated for once.
“Hey,” she said to Marle as Marle ran a brush through her hair.
“Yeah?”
“What’s brown and sticky?”
“Eww! Um, molasses?”
“A stick!”
Marle paused for a moment, letting it sink in, then broke into laughter. “Oh, darn,” she said when she calmed down. “Your hair slipped when I cracked up. Hold still, and pass me those barettes. I wish your hair was longer, then we could do so much more with it!”
Lucca did so, and as Marle pinned her hair up over one ear. “So,” said Marle, grinning mischievously, “Dalton or Magus?”
“In a battle of what?” asked Lucca as Marle turned her around and started styling her bangs. “Wits? If it’s wits, I gotta admit it’s Magus, awful as he is. I mean, Dalton was kind of dumb. There was some major testosterone poisoning going on there. But he definitely had better fashion sense. I mean, come on – Magus wears leather underwear outside his pants, for crying out loud!”
“No, silly,” Marle said. “There, look at yourself in the mirror. But I mean, which one is hotter?”
Lucca winced. Neither choice appealed to her in the least, though she sensed Marle had meant it that way. “Well,” she said, looking at her now far more feminine self in the mirror, “if I had to think about it objectively, I do think Magus has better hair. And the pointy ears are kind of neat, too… Dalton’s face is kind of better though, less pointy. Even though he has a missing eye… heck, some people go nuts over pirates, so why not? So… Magus’s hair, eyes, and ears on Dalton’s body? Then we’re talking.” She mentally slapped herself. “I did not just say that. I did NOT just say that!”
“Aww, it’s just whaddayacallit, hypothetical? Is that the word?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, that one. They’re both way too old anyway!”
“Fine then. In that case, uh… Frog or Robo?”
“EWWWW!”
The two girls collapsed laughing.
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