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English
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Anonymous
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Published:
2019-03-26
Completed:
2019-03-26
Words:
1,600
Chapters:
11/11
Comments:
12
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2
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Vive les Dinosaures

Anonymous

Summary:

When a mixed group from 1789 France falls through time and into the dino-infested world of Terra Nova, only chaos can ensue.

Since I'm only tagging the most prominent characters, details on the ones each drabble focuses on are in the chapter names.

Notes:

This is the product of almost 2 years of crack crossover hell between a show about time travel & dinosaurs and a musical about the French Revolution. Thanks to TN's time portal weirdness and some 1789 timeline luck… it shockingly works out really well. Special thanks to Wildandwhirling for being the best collaborator anyone could ask for on this extremely cursed universe.

Little overview for anyone who may want to read but is unfamiliar with one of the shows:

Terra Nova: Humanity polluted the future, so now we're trying to thoughtfully colonize dinosaur times. Turns out there's some more time portal weirdness out in the Badlands, so who knows what might get spit out.
Alicia "Wash" Washington is the colony's emotionally repressed second in command.
Taylor is the commander who has been falling into authoritarianism.
Maddy, Zoe, and Josh are the kids of the colony’s cop.
Frut is… a combination between a fruit and a nut. Yeah, we don't know either.

1789: Musical about the French Revolution.
Ronan Mazurier is an uncontrollable force of impulsiveness and rebellion.
Lazare de Peyrol is a pent up aristocrat.
Solène Mazurier is an outspoken sex worker and Ronan's sister.
Olympe de Puget is the prince's valid governess who is trying her best.
Charles Artois is just… a trashcan. And not even the good kind. Lazare is recyclable, but Charles? Don’t even think about it.

Overall, this is just a neat way to collect all the crossover-related drabbles I wrote Wildandwhirling for the Multifandom Drabble Exchange. I come from the Terra Nova side of things primarily, so please be kind regarding 1789.

Tl;dr: Proceed with caution.

Chapter 1: The New World (Laz, Ronan, Wash)

Chapter Text

They rest on mossy logs, hungry, dehydrated, and exhausted. Their layered, tattered clothes are not tailored to the thick jungle air, but it is preferable to the desert sun. That is where the whirlpool spit them out, right onto boiling rock and sand. Soon afterward, Artois stormed off because Lazare and Olympe chose to remain with peasants instead of him.

A sharp gasp makes Lazare's heart jump. It is Ronan, picking up a vine. As he pulls it taut, a never before seen intensity overtakes his eyes. He is determined, as though he is staring down an attractive aristocrat, except… He is eyeing one of those beasts through the trees.

Lazare and the others scramble to safety, unsure of where safety is, but Ronan lunges forward.

"Ronan, NO!"

"RONAN, YES!"

Whirring green contraptions burst from the brush. The creature skitters away as an armed group of humans quickly surrounds them. Their leader seems to be a... a woman. Once she sees the group's harmless (and Ronan's disappointed) state, she signals for the others to lower their guns.

"Are you alright?" she asks. It's an odd form of English. Nothing he's read about the Americas could have prepared him for this.

Chapter 2: Spray Bottle (Laz, Wash)

Chapter Text

"Peyrol, if you suggest murder one more time…" Wash’s hand rests on the spray bottle fastened to her holster. "You know what's coming."

He steps back. Her glare is more intimidating than the dinosaurs. At least they prey beyond the gates. "Nevermind, then. I see your point. Thank you, Lieutenant Washington, for your invaluable time."

He bolts from Comcen with no intention to return...

Until his hair-tie snaps. He shrinks back in moments later to risk requesting another. She calmly removes one from her wrist before flinging it at him like a slingshot. It wounds both his face and pride.

Chapter 3: You Monarchist Bastard (Ronan, Laz, Wash, Taylor)

Chapter Text

Commander Taylor , Ronan thinks in a very mocking tone, is standing on the balcony. It's the perfect opportunity. And with his new ex-peasant strength, he is sure not to miss.

He grips the frut, juice bleeding from its pods, and screams "EAT FRUT YOU MONARCHIST BAST--" before a gloved hand covers his mouth. Peyrol drags him through the crowd's anonymity as the frut soars through the air. It squashes against one of the poles holding up the Command Center.

"Did you hear something, Wash?"

As the idiots flee, she tugs the hair-tie on her wrist. "No sir. Nothing at all."

Chapter 4: Little Friends (Zoe, Olympe)

Chapter Text

Fabric scraps cover the table. A bowl rests on it in which Zoe puts down her popsicle.

"It's easy," she tells Olympe, tying together the multi-colored strips. They were beginning to resemble an animal's form. "See?"

"You're very smart, my dear Zoe." She compares Zoe's to her own tangled mess. "I'm afraid I am still learning."

"Here!" Zoe holds out the animal she'd made. She smiles, gaps in her teeth. "You can have mine, then."

Olympe's heart melts like that popsicle. She almost sees the late prince in the little girl's eyes. Choked up, she hugs the both of them.

Chapter 5: Keeping up with the Rejects (Artois, Lucas)

Chapter Text

Dust covers his pants in a biome that most certainly is not France. It is also infested with creatures that most certainly are not French. They are taller than buildings and more ferocious than peasants. He narrowly escaped them with the help of another breed: Humans.

They were not dressed like him in any sense. No waistcoats, no gowns. They were rugged, too, he noticed as they pointed guns at his person. But he played his cards carefully, manipulation and strategy as the only familiar chess-pieces on this new world's board. Otherwise, they would not have hesitated to feed him to the reptiles.

The group's poor excuse for a leader boasts a scar on the back of his neck in the shape of two claw marks. Despite his pathetic demeanor, it is a sign of his survival. In addition to the armed guards, Charles judges that he is in good hands... save for the woman who watches him while sharpening blades.

All in all, he is definitely better off than the group who accompanied him to this strange world. There is no doubt they have been devoured by those beasts by now.

Good. It is a fitting punishment for traitors.

Chapter 6: I Thought You Said Printing Press (Ronan, Boylan)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When Ronan walks into Boylan's office, he is met with piles of scattered paperwork.

"Ah, the Mazurier boy." Boylan looks up from his work, a cheesy grin on his face. His forced politeness answers the question Ronan came here to ask. "Whadd'ya need?"

"Have you seen Sol--" A jagged noise interrupts.

"Grab me that paper from the printer, will ya?"

Ronan's world shatters harder than he did the night Peyrol railed him against the printing press. "P-printer?"

"Right, uh, that contraption over there." Boylan points to a steel machine, paper at its mouth.

He hurriedly hands it over and bolts.

Notes:

If you'd like to read Wildandwhirling's fic "A Pressing Matter" where the printing press incident happens, click here.

Chapter 7: Tfw You Need a Therapist But You Only Have a Sad Blue Bird Man (Laz, Wash)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"So tell me: How does a pent-up aristocrat fall for a rebellious peasant boy?" Lt. Washington asks. Her fourth cup of the night rocks lazily in her hand.

He sighs, begging the hum of nearby chatter to carry this question away. But it pecks at him, relentless like the geese of France. "One does not intend these things, Lieutenant."

"It just happens, right?" she asks. "One moment you're married to your job. The next..." Sad familiarity laces her tone, lips curving into a pained half-smile. "It's nice you're trying to make it work."

This was never about him and Ronan.

Notes:

Normally I wouldn't reference geese in such a serious chapter, but given Wildandwhirling's fic where Laz gets chased down by a goose that wants him to bang Ronan... You can read "Fowl Play" here.

Chapter 8: The Moon is a Lesbian (Solene, Olympe)

Chapter Text

Solène's arms wrap around Olympe as they stand on their porch. Foreign moonlight paints their skin.

"Madeline told me something interesting today."

Solène rests her head against Olympe's shoulder, tank-top strap against her cheek. "Hmm?"

"When she misses her time, she watches the night sky. She says that no matter where or when we are, the same moon shines down on us all."

The thought makes its home in Solène's heart. She has worried about her girls since they arrived here. She may never see them again, and they her.

Basking together in the comforting glow, she holds Olympe close.

Chapter 9: Denial (Wash, Ronan)

Chapter Text

"But he is the exact problem we were fighting in France!" Ronan yells.

Her blood boils. This… kid from an entirely different world acts like he knows her oldest friend better than she does. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I come from what I am talking about! He takes away our freedoms for protection. He says it is for our own good. The only thing we need protection from is him!"

Don't let him hear you.

She bites her lip and storms away, telling herself it's to spare Ronan from her fist, but... that's hardly the reason why.

Chapter 10: Draw Me Like One of Your French Birds (Laz, Josh, Ronan, Maddy)

Chapter Text

Ronan sits with Maddy at the kitchen counter, plotting their revolution while her father is at work. Lazare is here to keep his boyfriend in line, but there is something undeniably under-stimulating about waiting around as they enthuse about taking down "the man".

When Maddy asks him to retrieve a pencil from her brother's room, he agrees. He is no servant, but it is far more preferable than the alternative.

He finds the pencil atop a sketchbook. Something on the page calls to his heart: A character, human almost, but donning dog ears and tail.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Josh's panicked voice says. Lazare cannot remove his eyes from the art.

"Draw me."

"What?"

"Draw me. Like this. But as a bird."

"Dude, no."

"Do it!"

"Okay, okay! Just… lower your voice. And don't... tell anyone about this." He poses as Josh's pencil frantically scratches the page. He tears it from his notebook and hands it over. "Now get out!"

It is perfect, feathers and beak portraying who he has always been. If he ever returns to his homeland, this portrait, stylistic in its enlarged, highlighted eyes, will hang amongst the portraits of his ancestors before him.

"Hey, did you get the pencil?" Maddy asks, but he is too absorbed in the sketch to hear.

Ronan walks over and grabs the paper. As Lazare snatches it back, Ronan's eyes light up. "I want one."

"Go to the Shannon boy," he says quietly, gesturing behind him.

Ronan rushes off to Josh's room, followed by a loud groan. He comes back minutes later, paper in hand instead of pencil. His portrait is covered in scales rather than feathers. It is a look that suits him too well.

Maddy rolls her eyes and gets a pen from her room instead.

Chapter 11: Jaws (Artois, Lucas)

Chapter Text

Charles points to where the "portal" spit them out, recognizing the nearby rock formation. Lucas marks it off on a strange device before announcing their next destination: the jungle. The soldiers are to scavenge for food that won't bite them back, and Charles is dragged along.

He stands outside the rover as the soldiers pick fruit, or… he thinks it's fruit. It might also be a nut. It is hard to tell from his distance. Lucas makes his comments about how Charles should be helping, but it is not like Lucas is doing much else besides leaning against the vehicle either.

A roar thunders through the trees. The soldiers ready their guns. He and Lucas fight to get back into the rover, scrambling at the door handle, leaping into the backseat. He does not see the creature, he does not even hear gunfire. Those brave soldiers ran off.

A giant eye appears in the window. Before Lucas can reach the front seat, teeth rip off the door, shaking the rover. They drag Lucas away. Charles stumbles out the other door, but the creature is not busy for long. As its mouth descends onto him, he wishes he'd stayed in France.