Chapter Text
Melody
Before we start this story, let’s make one thing clear: I’m not actually writing this for the sake of the fandom. Yes, I know what site you’re reading this on, yes, I know full well that it features fictional characters, but I’m writing this for me, and for every person, real or not, who has become a part of my story.
Who knows? Keep reading this, and you may become one of those people.
Feeling a little confused? That’s okay, I was too, at first. It took me a while to figure out what made me differ from your average, run-of-the-mill female resident of the U.S. of A. I, alias Melody Constance, have been hearing things all my life. That’s right, the voices talk to
me
. I could be your aunt, your friend, your sister, your daughter. That girl sitting across from you on the bus. I could be standing next to you right now holding a private conversation in my head with people you’ve only imagined and you wouldn’t even know it.
Just in case the context clues I provided in those first paragraphs weren’t enough, allow me to reiterate: As of the current date, I have been diagnosed with a variety of mental illnesses, including but not limited to depression, anxiety, and psychosis, all of which have played a prominent role in my life for as long as I can remember.
I’ve honestly never known what it was like to be “normal.” I grew up thinking that everyone heard voices in their heads. This perception of reality was shattered only upon entering college, and after being faced with the choice of either dropping out or failing, sitting down with a counselor to discuss what exactly was going on upstairs.
“Psychosis” wasn’t a term I’d heard before, and I am aware that the vast majority of the people who read this will probably not have heard of it, either. Google defines it as “ A severe mental disorder in which thought and emotions are so impaired that contact is lost with external reality.” In my particular case, my thoughts and emotions were being impaired by hallucinations. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, I saw, heard, and even felt things that didn’t exist.
As you can imagine, not everything I experienced through this “sixth sense” was...pleasant. Most were just obnoxious distractions, some actually became coping mechanisms for my many mental health issues, but there was always one persistent, aggravating interloper that seemed to take pleasure from degrading and humiliating me.
But more on that later. I want to tell you the “cool” part of living with this condition, the part that inevitably raises eyebrows and makes jaws drop in wonder. My hallucinations usually stem from the realm of fiction- Television shows, books, and video games. Upon hearing this, people will inevitably ask if I’ve ever met (insert their favorite character here.) In your case, Portal fans, the answer is a “Yes,” if you happen to favor the antagonist.
Being a writer with psychosis presents some interesting challenges. My characters come to me pre-packaged, already molded and shaped with all their traits in place and little room for change until I personally get involved in their lives through hallucinatory experiences. Which leaves me with the question: Do I write what I live or do I live what I write?
There really is no simple answer, especially when the truth is stranger than fiction. And, as you’re about to learn, “reality” can be a very tenuous thing indeed.
Lucca
Melody may not be writing this for you, but let’s just make one thing clear: Lucca the Great is writing for the sake of her admiring fans. I know you’re out there. I’ve seen the fanart (be it flattering or not), the fanfiction (including the lemons--okay, you know what, let’s not go there…) and even (best of all) the
fanclubs
.
You wanna know how I know all of this? It’s a long story, and I think we’ve got plenty of time. Just hold onto your horses and don’t get your undies in knot trying to figure it all out at once. I am, after all, only the greatest mechanical genius ever to grace the face of my planet. It figures that I’d be two steps ahead of the game the whole time.
For those of you who just came here for the whole Portal shin-dig, I promise you, you will get your cake and lies soon enough. Just bear with me for a second. I also realize that there are some of you who are those...whadda’ya call ‘em’s? The religious fanatics? Right, Mormons. The Brady Bunch on caffeine- that is, if you guys are even allowed to drink the stuff. Some of you have no idea what’s going on either.
Allow me to introduce myself- again -Lucca Ashtear, or if you prefer, (and I do) Lucca the Great. I’m from the game Chrono Trigger, wherein my friends and I saved the world via time-travel. I’m a veritable genius, and can build or repair almost anything using a few spare parts. It’s a pity that I don’t get more recognition in my hometown for what I do- my name there is mostly synonymous with “explosions” and “ collateral damage.” It’s not my fault that Science involves a certain amount of...experimenting.
So, yeah...experimenting. I’d been doing a lot of reading on “parallel universes” and the “multiverse theory” back in the summer of 1004 (Which equates to the year 2008 for you. We base our calendar on the founding of the kingdom of Guardia, not some obscure religious concept). I was ready to debunk the whole thing then and there, but of course I had to have some data to work with. Which segways into the subject of my favorite data-gathering instrument: my helmet.
Anyone who has ever seen my character concept art will be familiar with the thing, but assuming you haven’t, it looks like a giant green baseball cap, minus the bill and plus some fancy metal trim. The metal completely covers the right side of my head, allowing for a built-in speaker for my ear and a mic that extends out in front- sort of like the headgear helicopter pilots and passengers use to communicate in your world.
And yes, I fully intended to use the thing to communicate, but I was hoping to pick up on more than mere radio waves. If my experiment succeeded, I’d be able to pick up on frequencies from other dimensions, and either confirm that the multiverse theory was correct, or put the hypothesis to rest.
I
really
should have been more careful about what I wished for.
My friend Marle has told me repeatedly not to use things in ways they weren’t intended to be used, mostly when trying to mend my wounds after I’d done exactly that. Luckily my helmet didn’t explode or cause collateral damage, but what it did do freaked me right out, probably worse than if it had exploded.
Placing it on my head heightened my senses, as was usual (which is an added bonus when you’re as myopic as I am.) And yet, in some strange way, it was more than just sensing things in an ordinary way, with my everyday eyes and ears. I almost felt as though I could see things better with my eyes closed , as though this would stimulate my mental capacity for- what, exactly?
Ignoring my more rational impulses, I closed my eyes, opened my mind, and-
Lucca?
I had been expecting a response of some kind, but being addressed by my own name was a bit much. I would have screamed, but scientists do not scream at their new discoveries. Instead I calmly wobbled over to my desk and planted my butt in a chair before my legs gave out on me entirely.
You’re Lucca, right?
I decided that it was irrational for me to respond to a hallucination, or whatever it was, and that my “discovery” would have to be placed under observation. By no means was I going to start talking to myself!
I promptly took off the helmet and stuffed it under the bed.
My curiosity was my downfall. The next morning, I reread the texts on the “multiverse theory” with much less skepticism, put on the helmet, and began to furiously record every scrap of information that came through that voice.
After all, if I was right, I had just made the scientific discovery of a lifetime!
It kept me from thinking about the upcoming royal wedding, at any rate…
Melody
It was around 2008 that I decided to take another crack at the college thing, but this time in a vocational school. The Utah College of Massage Therapy to be exact. I moved back to Provo, and settled into a new routine of studying massage techniques and chi meridians between hurried meals of granola bars and microwaved hot-pockets. When I got home in the evenings, I would often take breaks from my studies to play a new game that my best friend Rose had introduced me to- Chrono Trigger.
Soon I was caught up in the game. I sat transfixed in front of my grandparents computer for hours on end, mesmerized by the music, savoring the storyline, captivated by the characters. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing for an aspiring LMT to do, but my grandparents never seemed to notice. However, there was someone else who did…
So, for the fun of it, I began throwing out tidbits of information she might find interesting. A remix of Pachelbel's Canon in D played by Bond (“It’s techno music, Lucca. Get it? Techno .” “Very funny. Give me a moment to record your transmission.”) A view of the valley as my bus pulled up a steep hill, including the major landmarks. The way the digestive system worked or neurons transmitted information. Random factoids. She ate it all up, but it was with more interest in the information than in myself. I was, after all, just the science project. It was the data that was important.
This became a sore point for me. I hated this intrusion on my privacy, on my personal space. On my life . I couldn’t even break wind without someone taking note of it, for Pete’s sake! It was humiliating!
I remember telling my best friend Dani around October that year, when we were making our first futile attempts at cosplay. I was perched in an old recliner in the basement, watching her as she hemmed her Cait Sith cape. “She treats me like a test subject,” I explained. “It just makes me so angry !”
To which Dani replied, “Geez! Tell her to mind her own business,” and went back to hemming the cape.
Neither the cosplay nor the advice went very far, both of which seemed at the time to be unfortunate. But in the long run it turned out for the best. I could have ruined the start of one of the greatest friendships I’ve ever had.
What I didn’t know at the time was that Myshu and all the other fan fiction authors I had yet to discover were right: Lucca was losing two of her closest friends- to the kingdom and to each other. What the rest of the country saw as a new beginning and the birth of a new era, Lucca saw as the end of good times and the death of her childhood. No wonder Lucca was so prickly. No wonder she needed a diversion. No wonder she could have used a friend…