Maybe It's Not Too Late After All

RedPiggy

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Sorry I didn't update sooner. Didn't realize it'd been a month, LOL.

I wanted Red's reason to be dealt with, since I'm sure someone might have issues with a Fraggle Peacekeeper. Again, this is like a nightmare version of her daydreams where she is slaying monsters as a warrior princess. She sorta gets her wish, but it's not as swell as our universe's Red would've thought. In Red's mind, she was doing that less for ascention and more for the survival of herself and her species. She sorta figured they wouldn't be interested in some old coot, LOL. Gobo, on the other hand, wouldn't have taken this lying down. I introduced General Red as a kind of cold-blooded killer, committing genocide against monsters, but here we see glimpses that there's more to it than that, kind of like when Bootstrap Bill Turner in Pirates 2 whips William to spare him from someone even meaner.

I'm watching Season 4 now, so, yeah, I know what you mean about the backstage-type of scenes, LOL. The original intent was for Red to talk to this universe's Mokey, but I've decided to bring her in later. In my original Comeback-verse, Red is the descendant of Princess Gwenalot and Crooner, a Minstrel. This is why that sign appeared on her hand when Cantus tried to teach the Fraggles about their songs ... I took it as an implication she is destined, unlike Mokey, to become a Minstrel and take the Pipe.

I'm still working on tweaking the plot, as the original intention was to focus more on John and Jareth, but as you may have noticed, this has been a pretty female-centric fic so far, and I intend to continue it, as I don't think there are lots of those lying around. Still, we will see Jareth, but they have to get to him first, LOL.

And, you're sharp, LOL. Since there is no John and Wormhole Obsession like in Farscape, I wanted to give Scorpius something NEW to fantasize about ....

edit: Oh, and with the mention of the farm area where Red and Gobo lived, I basically made John into Junior, LOL. In an earlier chapter, he thinks about his family's home on the farm being burned down. He likes gardening. My thinking is that those in the usual universe who are known to have been connected to magical events, or comparable sci-fic events like John and the wormholes, are closer to regaining that connection than others would be.
 

The Count

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Heh, yeah. Saving Mokey for later, that'll be interesting.
Actually, the direction this fic's taking in terms of its more prominent characters, the females, is a good thing.
Red as being destined for minstreldom from ancient ancestors, intereschting plotpoint.
John = Junior Gorg... I can see it. Though you will note, Luke, someone who has a connection with magics that are just glowy bacteria in the bloodstream, was a good ol' farmboy himself too.

Looking forward to whatever's next.
 

RedPiggy

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Though you will note, Luke, someone who has a connection with magics that are just glowy bacteria in the bloodstream, was a good ol' farmboy himself too.
Wow. You're right! And how many quote-unquote "magical" characters in religious texts or fables are agricultural? Someone needs to write an essay on farming and magic, LOL. I bet someone has already done some papers on it.
 

The Count

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Yeah... Maybe they could hook up with Dorothy and share stories about the laylines out in the cropfields connecting them all.
And maybe flying monkeys will come out of my, er, you know the rest of the line.

*Need to find new monster that Sal Manilla could be turned into.
 

RedPiggy

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Chapter 8
(201PK)

Zhaan held her breath as Mizumi entered her small quarters. Zhaan half-expected Mizumi to be disturbed by her nudity, since the humans blushed and became visibly uncomfortable as she strolled around without clothes. Still, if she were ever to meet the Goddess, she wanted to do so without hesitation.

Mizumi, however, appeared completely unphased. Her tone was curt. “Your ministry is going quite well.”

Zhaan nodded respectfully and smiled. “It pleases me you should appreciate it.”

“Well, it shouldn’t,” Mizumi retorted, growling slightly.

Zhaan was taken aback. “How dare --?”

Mizumi shook her head. “Are you capable of prying yourself away from your Goddess, Delvian? It has been a full cycle since we landed on this planet, and all I’ve seen you do is take all the credit and love meant for the Goddess and practically bathe in it yourself.”

Zhaan looked away, stunned. For several moments, she could not speak. Finally, she whispered, “You’re just jealous because I’m in a relationship, and the one you’ve lost is still lost.”

Mizumi laughed. “At least I have a relationship! The difference between you and me is a question of natural power.”

“Here we go,” Zhaan sighed, rolling her eyes.

Mizumi crossed her arms in a huff. “Deny it all you want, but the fact remains that you despise me because I am a threat to your religion. Your Goddess hoards all the power, but I have power and you can’t handle the discrepancy.” She paused, realizing Zhaan had no intention of protesting. “Still … I have an idea.”

“I am not interested in your lies,” replied the Priestess quietly, still avoiding the other’s gaze.

Mizumi tried to force her tone to be more sympathetic. After all, she, by now, was fairly certain Zhaan was a part of her quest, or the Hand of Destiny would not have had them meet at all. “I … I … respect you,” she began.

“Of course you do.”

Mizumi shook her head. The thoughts, the memories, in her head were conflicting, as though two ripples in a lake were clashing and threatening to wipe each other out, but bits and pieces still remained. “I’ve been connected to you, at some point in my life. Whether it is the past, the future, or some other dimension of reality, our souls, our pneumas, have touched. Because of this, you … you can be more. Of this I have little doubt.” She slowly approached the Delvian, who nervously started to put on her clothes without glancing at Mizumi. Mizumi reached out a hand, mist forming in her palm. “I must find my husband. The fate of the universe depends on it. However, I find myself in the unpleasant position of realizing I require the help of the Goddess.”

Zhaan finally turned, staring into the pool of mist as it formed into a flat vertical oval, images starting to appear on the surface.

Mizumi nodded. “Do you want it?”

Zhaan hesitated. “What is it?”

“A present, nothing more,” she replied softly. “A means of seeing what needs to be seen.” She took back her hand as Zhaan approached. “Your heart must truly belong to the Goddess. You must think not of yourself or your glory, but only the Goddess and the rebirth of the universe in her image.”

“Will it work?” Zhaan asked timidly.

About seven hundred cycles ago, on the warm, moist planet of Delvia, Zhaan’s father blocked her from seeing the carnage raging in front of him.

“Kay'me maia kosa Visha'meel maia kosa ah Khalaan ah Khalaan,” chanted her father quietly, over and over again.

“Father?” a timid Zhaan asked. “Father, what have we done wrong?”

Her father turned and kneeled before her, wiping away her tears. “Our race has always been capable of so much good, Zhaan, my love. I know this in the depth of my pneuma. It is our awareness that frightens the Seek, who exist solely to placate the Peacekeepers. Do what you must to survive, but never turn your back on the Goddess. You will be re--.”

He fell, the acrid smoke billowing up from his back. A tearful Zhaan glanced up at the soldiers, both Peacekeeper and Delvian Seek members.

One of the Seek members, completely nude and rather obese, grabbed her by the neck. “What is the nature of the Goddess?” he barked.

Zhaan cried. “I … I do not know. I am unworthy to know her nature, only that she offers the Peacekeepers for our security. Blessed are the Peacekeepers. We are lost without them.”

Mizumi smirked. “Trust me.”

Zhaan touched the misty oval in Mizumi’s hand and shrieked in agony, breaking free and sobbing uncontrollably. “She’s … she’s … in … pain.”

Mizumi’s face fell, letting the mist dissipate in her hand. “Delvian Priestess, the Goddess is pregnant with her child, our universe. We must not let her die in childbirth. Join me, and together we can find her and ease her discomfort.” She placed a hand gently on Zhaan’s shoulder. “It’s time to stop talking of the Goddess, and meet her.”


<><><>

The vehicle stopped a metra away from the intended destination.

Mizumi frowned from her seat, irritated that not only would this inconvenience her, but she could not show the hidden driver her displeasure. “It will take arns to walk there.”

A female voice on the com replied, “I’m not going within a metra of that place … and no other driver will either. You want to go there, you’ll have to do all the walking yourself.”

After they exited the vehicle, Zhaan smiled as the warm sun bathed her in light. “Come, feet … we have a journey ahead of us.”

As the sun started to set, Mizumi and Zhaan found a desolate area, filled with jumbled ruins.

A female cry startled them. They ran, eager to discover the identity of the screamer. Mizumi gasped when she saw the brown-skinned woman with tattered sea-green hair, writhing on the ground.

Zhaan averted her eyes, crying. “I cannot bear to watch.”

Mizumi grabbed her by the arm forcefully. “When you get your wish, it’s best not to decline the favor. Hurry! Time is short,” she replied sharply. Mizumi kneeled before Eshe and blew a mist into her nostrils, relaxing a bit as the woman started to calm.

Eshe opened her eyes. They were reddened and bleary from constant crying. “Y-you … y-you … d-died too?”

Mizumi caressed her hair. “Whatever do you mean?”

“The ghosts,” Eshe whispered. “Only the dead come here.”

“There’s nothing here, Eshe.”

Zhaan finally found the courage to speak, though she tried to keep her tone respectful. “Is she sebacean or human? Can she be the Goddess?”

Mizumi shot a sharp glance at the Priestess. “There’s more to her than you could imagine.” She turned to Eshe. “Where is Jareth?”

Eshe laughed through her pain. “You’ve … you’ve lost him?”

Mizumi grunted, irritated. “Yes, and you give life to that which has been thrown away, so --.”

“I’m nothing.”

Mizumi nearly dropped Eshe’s head. “Are you joking? If anyone has the power to right the universe, it’s --.”

“Jareth,” Eshe whispered. “Not Jareth. Everyone. No one. Who knows?” She writhed a bit more. “It’s … it’s too … too late … for me. No … no magic ….”

“What is going on?” Zhaan demanded.

Mizumi shook her head. “You don’t understand, Eshe.” She began to say more, but a sudden flash of inspiration hit her. She gasped in shock as she stared out into nothingness. “You – you aren’t native to the Underground at all. All that power … and you’ve been a mere human the whole time.”

Eshe chuckled, squeezing Mizumi’s hand. “I … took … power. Power that was thrown away. I thought … I thought … unh … that I could save us … but … but … they … I … who … threw away … magic ….” She gasped for air, but could not continue.

Mizumi’s eyes started to water. As the tears dropped from her face, she could see Moulin’s face on the surface of every drop before they splashed against Eshe’s skin. Mizumi cradled the dying woman tighter. “Gentle Eshe, I understand.”

“I’m afraid I do not,” Zhaan offered.

Mizumi started to cry. “Eshe’s gift is to give life to the lifeless, to return that which was thrown away. However, as access to magic has been thrown away, she finds herself in a paradox: for her gifts suffer from the lack of access to magic, but as it was her gift to restore what was lost, her body cannot take the stress.” She sobbed. “Her physical form will soon be destroyed. All is lost. This world, the universe … all will be no more.”
 

The Count

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Mmm, still impressed after reading this again. Zhaan's backstory is interesting and I like how it fits into the overall story. The flat oval Mizumi presented, that was a mirror of sorts? But the true impact is Esh's death towards the end. So the logic problem that makes robots' heads explode which defines grouch-thinking has finally hit the queen of their kingdom to her core... The whole I'm mad because I'm happy but I'm happy because that makes me mad but it's sappy to be so happy when you're mad dicotomic delusion. All I can say is... More please?
 

RedPiggy

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Yeah, I guess it could be a mirror-like object. I wasn't really thinking of it consciously. All I know is that I didn't want it to look like Jareth's b-- uh, his crystals, LOL. :smile:

Eshe hasn't died yet. She's just really bad off. We'll see her again. Her condition came about because I know at some point I had decided she was a human originally, instead of a native magical entity, but that presented a headache-inducing set of issues. Denying access to the Underground (which is how humans can make their dreams come true and what we consider to be supernatural entities can seem far more powerful than their biologies would suggest) means Eshe can't access her powers well, but her power was to access any power "thrown away", but ... and it just snowballed from there. Jareth, Mizumi, Zhaan, Fraggles ... these creatures were born of races that existed prior to the destruction of the Crystal on Thra, so they get to keep at least a portion of their abilities. Since Marjory the Trash Heap noted to Gobo in Fraggle Rock that Silly Creatures were magic too (well, everyone is), humans can still have dreams, but due to the depowering, they lack the will to make those dreams come true. Mizumi thinks the only way to cheat the depowering and set the universe right (which is a problem for her, because in a way you could say she got her wish, which was to bag Jareth and rule the universe) is to get help from Eshe ... but Eshe's having her own problems, so there needs to be a new plan ....
 

The Count

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Heh... Almost slipped there with Jareth's viewing globes there.

Understood, Mizumi now needs to find an alternate means of restoring what once went wrong, if she cares for that sort of thing. And I know that somehow that's gonna come into conflict or intersect with Scorpius's scheming of obtaining the magic of the Ditzies.
BTW: If Esh is meant to be a human who got magic power, granted it was power that was thrown away... How does that connect her to Marjory? I know that during the first act of Comeback King you had her transported to the Trash Kingdom... And there's this episode where Marjory's personality/voice was affected by the relocation of her trash heap form... But is there a relation between the two? That might be an interesting sidestory for another time.
 

RedPiggy

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Well, there are creatures made of trash in the Trash Kingdom, so it's not that big of a jump to say Eshe created Marjory the same way. Marjory wasn't so much created in the Trash Kingdom (after all, Philo and Gunge found her in the Gorg's garden and she came to life) as I, at least in my fics, make Eshe's power able to reach lots of areas. In If The Diamond Ring Turns Brass, Eshe senses the stuff going on with Foster and Moulin because she can sense stuff quote-unquote "thrown away" from anywhere in the world or in the Underground. It's also how she has a pep talk with Hoggle in Comeback King later on in a flashback. She's just drawn to anything thrown away, whether it's objects or feelings or powers or whatever. Eshe might not even needed to be present to affect Marjory's beginnings (though Marjory states in song that she interacted with her mother) in order to affect the change.
 

RedPiggy

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Chapter 9
(201PK)

Mizumi coughed as she awoke. Sitting up, she found her eyes bleary and unfocused. Everything around her seemed to be nothing but white. Her head was pounding, her heart trembling. Her arms cringed as she held them to her chest.

Eshe had been in her arms.

Where was she?

She heard a groan beside her.

“Hello, can anyone … ack … hear … *cough* me?” she asked, her voice nearly gargling as her sinuses drained.

A female voice groaned. “This is … weird,” she noted.

As Mizumi’s vision cleared, she finally saw the owner of the other voice. It was General Red Fraggle, the leader of Seashore City. Both of them were pale and looked hung over.

General Red coughed and held her head in her hands, groaning. “Where the crank are we?”

Mizumi coughed and tried to laugh, wiping away the mucous running from her nose on her sleeve. “We appear to be trapped.”

General Red looked around. “It’s a big … white … room.”

Mizumi nodded. “Appears that way.”

General Red rubbed her muzzle and glanced at Mizumi. “I wasn’t in a big white room an arn ago. I was sparring with my command.”

Water started to drip from the ceiling, pelting them with cold drops. Mizumi finally stood, letting the water fall across her tired face with a smile. While enjoying the sensation, Mizumi asked, “How did we get here?”

“Hmph. Like I know.”

Mizumi turned to face her, smirking. “You’re a Peacekeeper flunkie. This is an interrogation attempt, isn’t it?”

General Red rolled her eyes and sighed, standing up, groaning. “Look, uhn … Peacekeepers tend to interrogate at the end of a pulse rifle. I hear the higher ups have some sort of weird chair they strap you into and drain the memories right from your brain. Nobody ever said anything about a big white room.”

Mizumi chuckled.

“Now what?” General Red grumbled, feeling around the walls for any type of opening and growling when she couldn’t find any.

Mizumi’s chuckle evolved into a laugh. She nearly doubled over. Tears flowed from her eyes.

“I’m so happy you’re so easily amused.”

Mizumi stopped laughing and wiped her eyes. “You don’t understand. I am magic. I interrogate others by lifting their thoughts right from … their brains, as it were.” She laughed some more. “I am not so easily manipulated.”

“And yet, we’re here.”

Mizumi hesitated a bit before answering thoughtfully. “Are we?”

General Red approached her and looked up, confused. “You’re suggesting this is just some sort of dream?”

Suddenly, a door opened from behind. Zhaan walked in, her hands clasped gently across her chest, gold bracelets dangling from her wrists, a silvery blue dress flowing down her body like a waterfall. She had a serene smile across her face.

General Red observed her and frowned, placing her hands on her hips. “How come everyone’s so frelling happy but me?”

“Alloway Masata,” Zhaan said in generous greeting, bowing her head. She was still blue, but a faint golden glow pulsated from enlarged chloroplasts on her head. Her eyes seemed to sparkle. She glanced at General Red. “You will find happiness when you achieve Unity with our benevolent Goddess.”

Mizumi harrumphed and stared at the white walls. “So that’s it,” she whispered.

A tall lavender Fraggle popped up from a large white tile in the floor next to Zhaan. She had algae-like hair, with mostly green strands punctuated with tinges of blue. It fell loosely to her shoulders. She wore a gray robe that seemed to contrast with the large round crystal that hung from a golden chain around her neck. She clung to Zhaan’s dress timidly.

General Red stared at the Fraggle. “Who are you?”

“We are all One and No One and All and Nothing,” Zhaan intoned solemnly.

The Fraggle gasped as General Red approached her with a threatening glare in her eyes. The Fraggle tightened her grip on Zhaan’s dress. “Mokey,” she whispered. She backed up a step, trying to stay behind the Delvian.

Red relaxed slightly, nodding toward Zhaan. “And you found her?”

Mokey nodded. “I was in a cave, looking at drawings made thousands of cycles ago,” she told her.

“Past and present and future on a single rock wall,” Zhaan noted calmly. “All of time exists as now. Great is the wisdom of the ages.”

Red glanced at Zhaan and approached Mokey, whispering, “And you stomach all of this nonsense?”

Mokey blushed and looked toward the other side of the room. “I have no choice. Our hearts seem to beat the same.”

“What are you talking about?”

Mizumi scoffed and whipped around, growling, “The Hand of Destiny is playing a bizarre joke! I demand to talk to the one who is really behind this little trap!” She reared back her head, outstretching her arms, and screamed, “Jareth, King of the Universe, appear before your wife and Queen!

Zhaan smiled warmly and turned and a door broke free of the wall of the room. She exited silently while Mokey followed.

Mokey paused and turned to Red just before the door closed. She said, “This wasn’t the right cave.”

And then they were gone.

Red just stood there, gaping at the wall where the door had been. Her brain could not process what was happening to her. The room in which they found themselves lacked any real features. Maybe that Prime Empress had a point. Maybe it was some sort of bizarre psychological torture device.

Mizumi placed a hand on Red’ head. “Time and space do not apply here, General. Those two were never here at all.”

Red pulled away. “They sure looked like they were here to me.”

Mizumi sighed as she looked around. “They were here, but they also were never here.”

“I’m not big on paradoxes,” Red explained, irritated.

Mizumi chuckled. “And yet it is the reason for this device’s existence. This is similar to what Jareth could do in his prime, but I am beginning to consider the theory that he isn’t part of this at all.” She paused with a smile. “Or he’s intimately entwined in it.” She sighed happily. “Oh, Jareth, I know you’re here.”

Suddenly two doors opened on opposite sides of each other. In front of Red and Mizumi approached a large brown-furred monster with shaggy fur and bright yellow eyes. He had two fangs jutting out of his thickened lower lip. Behind them approached, meanwhile, a blue-furred monster with short matted fur and a large pink oval nose and bright red lips. While the first monster could see over Mizumi’s head, the latter was about twice the height of Red.

Red gawked. “M-monsters?”

The taller monster nodded clumsily. His voice was a low growl, but they couldn’t tell if it was angry or just raspily voiced. “Ah take it you jus’ figgered out ya didn’t catch us all,” he complained.

The smaller monster plucked a red hair out of Red’s scalp and stared at it curiously. “How can you be a killer of monsters if you get trapped so easily?” he asked in a high-pitched, gravelly voice.

Mizumi glared at the taller monster with a grin. “Oh, we are not trapped at all.”

“Pardon?” asked the smaller monster, dropping the hair.

Mizumi turned to the smaller monster. Her voice betrayed a profound confidence. “We are not trapped. We have no need of this place at all.”

The smaller monster huffed angrily. “But there are squares here! You have no idea what it is like … needing a place where there are squares you can depend on!”

The taller monster rolled his eyes. “Aw, c’mon … last week it was some sorta deal ‘bout triangles.”

The smaller monster sniffled. “How I love these squares.”

The taller monster shook his head and shrugged toward Mizumi. “Look, lady … facts are facts. Yer inside a big ol’ cube an’ yer not gettin’ out anytime soon.”

“You will never get out,” sulked the smaller monster.

Mizumi inhaled deeply and with her finger traced a design in the air with mist. “Have you ever drawn a cube? If you keep all the sides transparent, a curious aspect of the design reveals itself: an ever-changing perspective. You fail to determine whether you are looking at the interior or the exterior. Thus as you cannot confirm we are inside,” she continued as they all appeared outside the cube, which suddenly seemed shoulder-height to Mizumi, “ we might as well be outside.”

“Huh,” the taller monster offered as he stood staring at the sudden appearance of the lush foliage sweeping across sky-scraping mountains. “Guess ya got a point.”

Red gasped slowly as she took in a beautiful landscape she had never seen before. It was pristine, untouched by Peacekeeper hand. A gentle wave of multicolored flowers swept across the landscape. Birds sang cheerfully in the air. On a mountainside in the background, there was a large three-story hut hewn from whole trees. She glanced at Mizumi. “This Jareth is capable of this?”


Mizumi frowned. “Of that cube, hardly,” she told the frazzled Fraggle. “We escaped it far too easily. I doubt Jareth’s skills have devolved that much.”

The taller monster scoffed angrily, jabbing a clawed finger at her. “Yeh? Well, you ain’t got a clue, ice cube! We’ll have you know yer in the presence of --.”

The smaller monster leapt in front of the taller monster and boasted with exaggerated movements, “A wise and powerful and ever-compassionate sorceress!”

The taller monster crossed his arms and grinned. “An’ she’s called, in case ya didn’t know --.”

A shrouded figure appeared in a puff of smoke, though it was followed by a long fit of coughing and hacking. As the figure waved away the smoke with a staff topped with a crystal ball, an elderly female voice cackled. She removed the hood of her cloak, revealing an obese purple-skinned hag with a single fang in her lower jaw and tightly curled short brown hair. “Name’s Taminella – pleased ta meet ya!”
 
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