Chapter Text
It was a peaceful day in Wartwood. As peaceful as you could get, what with the giant, frog-eating bugs, the giant, frog-eating birds, and the not-giant, not-cannibalistic residents of the town.
Flies buzzed in the clear blue sky and the sun shone down on the central statue, stone, of a strange-looking girl who had long since left this world for her own. (Seriously. What kind of amphibian had four fingers and a bump in the middle of their face?). Lichen had grown on it in the many years since it was first put up, and algae covered the inside of the walls of the little pond surrounding the statue. The bronze plaque that had tarnished with age and weather declared the statue to be depicting an ‘Anne Boonchuy’. An array of stalls had been set up around it, townsfolk bustling around between them, stocking up on things they may need, or want, from the market.
It was really to nobody’s surprise when this lovely scene was interrupted by a blue frog who wore tattered clothes and carried a concertina, sprinting in from the woods and screaming his head off.
“Beasts! I’m tellin’ ya! In the woods!!” One-Eyed Wally cried, “I saw ‘em, with me own eye! They was bigger’n any newt I ever seen, they was!”
A few of the newer frogs in town shot concerned looks at Wally, but most simply rolled their eyes and got on with their shopping. The man was largely ignored as he clambered onto the small stone wall surrounding the statue, still shouting.
“I’d stake Tina on it! They ‘ad long, spindly limbs, ‘n horrific face bumps, on massive heads! One was makin’ a noise like a broken Frobo, an’ another.. Another had big bushy brown hair, just like our Anne used to!”
Wally stood there, panting from the long sprint and the shouting, largely ignored.
“Please! They could hurt the town!” The frog pleaded, unaware of a younger, pink frog pushing his way through the crowd towards him.
“Wally!” The frog, Sprig Plantar, called out. “What was that about beasts?”
Wally startled with an undignified shriek, before turning to look at Sprig. “Right, the beasts! Long, lanky limbs, all tangled up in a big pile, face bumps, an’ far too big to be human, like Anne was!” Wally paused to consider his words. “‘Sides, ‘s not like there's any way to get to her world nowadays either.”
Truth be told, Sprig had stopped listening after ‘face bumps’. “And where did you say they were, in, in the forest?”
Wally looked at him, a concerned-confused look on his face. He pointed to where he had run in from. “Beats me why you want to get eaten, but the beasts were a ways out thataway. Follow the path for ‘bout a half an hour, off to the left, can’t miss ‘em.”
Sprig nodded, turning to manoeuvre his way out through the crowd of frogs, toads and newts that made up Wartwood.
Once he hit the woods, he started out at a jog. Could this really be it? Could he really reunite with his sister, after over a decade?
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Sunlight stabbed its way into the clearing where Anne lay. It felt like a metal band was playing a concert inside her skull, moshing crowd and all. The bright light shining through her eyelids and loud, droning noise right by her ear were certainly no help for the pain either.
Something bony and uncomfortable was digging into Anne’s back, and something else warm and heavy was squishing her. It was hard to breathe. She forced open her eyes and squinted, pushing against whatever was on top of her to free herself. She took a deep, heavenly breath, then pulled herself into a sitting position, holding her head in her hands.
Anne squeezed her eyes shut again, head drooping as she dug in her pockets for some kind of painkiller. No dice. Great. Maybe that was a good thing, she thought as her stomach hit her with a small wave of low-level nausea. Great.
She took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes, giving time to adjust to the painful brightness and sheer greenness around her. Why. Why was she in a forest? She looked around, realising what exactly the ‘bony and uncomfortable’ and ‘warm and heavy’ things exactly were. ‘Warm and heavy’ turned out to be her girlfriend, one Marcy Wu, who was now sprawled unceremoniously on the grassy ground. Sorry Marce.
‘Bony and uncomfortable’ was not a rock that she’d been laying on. It was, in fact, Anne’s other girlfriend, Sasha Waybright. Using Marcy’s satchel as a pillow and snoring like.. a snory thing. Look. Her head is pounding, she’s not gonna be at her most creative. Sorry, Sash, for describing your elbow as uncomfortable, you’re lovely, but it’s true. To the point she thought it was a rock. Whoops.
With that mystery solved, Anne took to looking around her. The trio were in a clearing, inside of a forest. What in the name of Domino Three did they get up to last night? Hell, she was still in her work polo, she realised, as the forest green collar brushed against her cheek. She reached up and turned it the right way, shuffling a little bit away from her partners to hear better. Definitely a forest - she could hear the sounds of bugs and other small woodland creatures.
The happenings of last night mostly eluded her - they’d definitely gone out drinking, then.. Was there a taxi? An uber? Frog knows. Either way, her train of thought was completely derailed by the sounds of someone - Sasha, judging by the quiet- stirring.
She spoke softly as to not aggravate her (and Sasha’s) headache, “Hey, Sash. How’re you feeling?”
Sasha groaned, moving to pull her sunglasses over her eyes, before squinting at Anne. “Kinda crap.”
Anne chuckled at his comment, “I don’t blame you, dude. Last night got us stuck in a forest.”
“No way.” Their comment would probably sound a lot more disbelieving (or sarcastic, knowing Sasha) if they weren’t so hungover.
“Yes way.”
Sasha groaned, sitting up and rolling out his elbow - the one Anne had been laying on. She could practically hear the click from where she was sitting. He then held out that arm, and Anne smiled softly, before slowly shuffling back over to accept the one-armed cuddle.
Cuddles are always good. Anne rested her cheek on Sasha’s leather-jacket-covered shoulder, content in sitting with him for a bit. Ze was warm and comfy. You wouldn't think muscles would make for such good pillows. Sasha gave her a light squeeze and Anne slipped her arm around Sasha's back.
“Are you alright Boonchuy?”
Anne hummed an affirmation, ignoring her growing nausea. “Dunno about Marcy though.”
The two glanced at their girlfriend, who was still asleep face-down on the ground in possibly the most uncomfortable position imaginable.
Sasha snickered.
They sat in comfortable silence for a bit, until Marcy stirred.
Marcy, incredible, beautiful, creative, smart, lucky, unhealthy Marcy, who did not get hangovers. Domino knows how, cause Anne’s best guess is that her girlfriend’s body is just so used to running on ‘bad’ that it doesn’t register the additional suffering that is hangovers.
Either way, she’s fine. And Anne is not jealous. Not one bit.
“Morning, Mars.”
“Marcy!”
Marcy rolled onto her back then sat up with a grin, “G’morning!”
The other two wince at Marcy’s sudden shout - well, it was more ‘slightly above conversation level talking’, but still. Loud.
“Sorry, Sorry” Marcy apologises quickly, still smiling. “So.. forest?”
“Yeah, forest.” Sasha confirms.
“You good, Anna-Banana?” Marcy asks, “Looking a little green there, ‘n you know that’s my colour.”
Anne half-chuckles, then groans, getting up holding her stomach. That ‘little wave’ of nausea from before has hit again, like a frog-damn tidal wave now.
She staggers as quick as she can over to the treeline, just barely able to make it behind a tree before her stomach’s convulsing and she’s spewing into a bush. Pleasant.
Anne leans her arm against the tree, groaning again as she spits what she hopes is the last of it to the floor. As she wipes her mouth, something catches her eye. A blue beetle, six legs, shiny carapace.
What makes this beetle so remarkable is not its colour, not its shininess, nor its number of legs, but rather its size. You see, this beetle is not just any big beetle. It’s the size of her head.
Anne sneaks up on it, and quickly grabs the thing with both hands before it can fly away. Yeah, very interesting find.
She quickly returns to the clearing, struggling beetle in hand, to find Sasha and Marcy standing up, looking at her with faces of relief.
Faces of relief that quickly drop into faces of horror as they see the size of the bug that Anne’s holding.
“Loves,” Anne croaks, “I don’t think we’re still on Earth.”