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Fraggle Rock fanfic: Everything Seems To Sing
- Thread starter Redsonga
- Start date
Redsonga
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Don't worry that will be my last simultaneous song for quite a while..musicals make it look easier to do than it is *lol*
.And poor poor Lanford
...
Redsonga
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Thank youI can see how simultaneous songs would be difficult, you did a great job.
! I was beginning to wonder if they worked because I saw a few people writing my story and then running away without comment like it was infested with fleas or something *lol*. It's flea season for my kitties and it's nice to know my story has not caught them
Redsonga
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear Diary,
He looked at me, but I was not sure if he truly saw...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Another black leaf fell.
The now nearly deserted cave was filled with five anxious sets of eyes all fixed upon a large pot.
The plant within it, a normally lively venus flytrap like creature with large puffed jaws was anything but his normal self.
Lanford's usually light green color with forest green wart-like markings was now a dark chestnut brown, with spots an odd shade of wine purple, and his mouth flat and withered slightly inward.
As the fraggles around this strange pet watched, one of which now holding a bowl up to his bottom jaw, another of the flytraps' blacking lesser leafs joined the many others that littered the rocky floor.
"Oh…he always eats his peat moss…" Mokey sighed, finally putting the brimming bowl next to where she was kneeling.
"Lanford..I know we haven't always been friends but…” Red edged closer, offering the plant one of her ponytails with a decided gulp.
“...if you get better, I..I promise I won't throw my swimming fins at you at night when you try to chew on my hair…”
Lanford seemed to consider this for only a moment before slowly turning his beak downward with the sighing sound of shallow breathing.
“Aw, but he always growls when I even mention head chewing.." Red grumbled.
Boober meanwhile was elbow deep in a large book that smelled of old paper and earthworms, on the floor before him. Wembley seemed to be trying to read it to, without much success.
"Oh, I wish I'd kept up on my plant pathology studies..What if whatever Lanford has mutates and starts effecting fraggles?"
He licked the edge of his finger with vigor and turned another page.
“We could be all brown and spotty with our arms all atrophied and falling off in who knows how much much time…"
"Time…what year is it?" Mokey asked in a suddenly nervous tone.
"What year is it?" Gobo laughed. “That's a silly question, no fraggle in their right mind still keeps track of the year names, when we have the seasons to…"
"It's June 24th of the eighty-ninth Weeba." Boober spoke up suddenly almost before Gobo had finished speaking.
" Eighty nine...sixty eight…oh no.." Mokey's eyes grew wide after her somewhat slow calculations on her fingers and then toes came to an end.
"'Oh no' what?" Gobo asked.
"Never ask what after an 'oh no' Gobo;" Boober butted in again, patting him on the shoulder wisely. “...it's never good…"
"I..got Lanford as a gift for my 9th birthday..that was twenty-one years ago…" Mokey said in a far away tone, her eyes still wide.
"So? Why does that matter?" Red asked, resisting the urge to poke the poor plant in hopes of any sort of response.
"Lanford's kind, the Night-Bloomers…they have to be put in a special soil...”
She carefully picked up a handful of the soil in Lanford's pot and watched as it fell slowly, her last words weak.
“..within two months of becoming twenty-one years old..if they don't.. they die…"
"Well, that's no problem Mokey, there's lots of soil around the rock...” Gobo said, zipping up beside her.
“... and the gorg's garden and…" Red began, suddenly at the other side.
Mokey shook her head drying her eyes, only to have them fill a moment later.
"No, it can't be just any soil..it has to be the soil were he was first planted in to have the right nutrients..everyone…I, I have to go back to Lanford's planting place..soon, very soon..starting tomorrow if I can..I have to make this right…"
"We'll go with you!" Gobo exclaimed.
"Yeah, you never know when a best friend or two will come in handy, it'll be fun!" Red agreed.
"Me three!" Wembley shouted with a hop.
"I'll come." Came a flat but certain voice.
Everyone but Mokey turned toward the small form of Boober in shocked surprise.
Where Mokey would have normally laughed at her friends more than eager energy there was nothing but a serious pause.
"Oh…everyone..it's too far..even for you Gobo... it's so far from lower rock that you could get lost forever if you aren't use to traveling there.." Mokey said quietly.
"There's more of the rock than here?" Wembley asked.
Boober let out a dry laugh from where he now sat next to Mokey in his usual spot, getting several of the good luck knots he always had in his tail untied absentmindedly in their normal distressing ritual .
"Don't you know anything Wembley? The rock runs under most of the land of silly creatures, remember Northern Rock?"
"Oh yeah, sorry Boober, I forgot…I forget sad things easy I guess..." Wembley sighed.
Mokey worked steadily on a nasty knot in Boober's tail, looking almost afraid to look her friends in the eye as weighted words finally found their way out.
"My clan… we were always drifters when I was little going days without food, water..I don't want to have another friend hurt because of me…”
None of the others seemed to notice when she gave Boober's tail a slight squeeze.
"Besides, don't worry..if I'm going to be able to go.. I can't go alone..it's too dangerous..I need someone experienced, someone like…"
"Uncle Matt?" Gobo said, pulling the newest postcard he had gotten from under his hat in a well practiced swoop. “But he's all the way on the other side of the silly creature world right now I bet…"
"No, no..even better…I only hope…" Mokey's voice trailed off to an uncertain whisper.
Dear Diary,
He looked at me, but I was not sure if he truly saw...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Another black leaf fell.
The now nearly deserted cave was filled with five anxious sets of eyes all fixed upon a large pot.
The plant within it, a normally lively venus flytrap like creature with large puffed jaws was anything but his normal self.
Lanford's usually light green color with forest green wart-like markings was now a dark chestnut brown, with spots an odd shade of wine purple, and his mouth flat and withered slightly inward.
As the fraggles around this strange pet watched, one of which now holding a bowl up to his bottom jaw, another of the flytraps' blacking lesser leafs joined the many others that littered the rocky floor.
"Oh…he always eats his peat moss…" Mokey sighed, finally putting the brimming bowl next to where she was kneeling.
"Lanford..I know we haven't always been friends but…” Red edged closer, offering the plant one of her ponytails with a decided gulp.
“...if you get better, I..I promise I won't throw my swimming fins at you at night when you try to chew on my hair…”
Lanford seemed to consider this for only a moment before slowly turning his beak downward with the sighing sound of shallow breathing.
“Aw, but he always growls when I even mention head chewing.." Red grumbled.
Boober meanwhile was elbow deep in a large book that smelled of old paper and earthworms, on the floor before him. Wembley seemed to be trying to read it to, without much success.
"Oh, I wish I'd kept up on my plant pathology studies..What if whatever Lanford has mutates and starts effecting fraggles?"
He licked the edge of his finger with vigor and turned another page.
“We could be all brown and spotty with our arms all atrophied and falling off in who knows how much much time…"
"Time…what year is it?" Mokey asked in a suddenly nervous tone.
"What year is it?" Gobo laughed. “That's a silly question, no fraggle in their right mind still keeps track of the year names, when we have the seasons to…"
"It's June 24th of the eighty-ninth Weeba." Boober spoke up suddenly almost before Gobo had finished speaking.
" Eighty nine...sixty eight…oh no.." Mokey's eyes grew wide after her somewhat slow calculations on her fingers and then toes came to an end.
"'Oh no' what?" Gobo asked.
"Never ask what after an 'oh no' Gobo;" Boober butted in again, patting him on the shoulder wisely. “...it's never good…"
"I..got Lanford as a gift for my 9th birthday..that was twenty-one years ago…" Mokey said in a far away tone, her eyes still wide.
"So? Why does that matter?" Red asked, resisting the urge to poke the poor plant in hopes of any sort of response.
"Lanford's kind, the Night-Bloomers…they have to be put in a special soil...”
She carefully picked up a handful of the soil in Lanford's pot and watched as it fell slowly, her last words weak.
“..within two months of becoming twenty-one years old..if they don't.. they die…"
"Well, that's no problem Mokey, there's lots of soil around the rock...” Gobo said, zipping up beside her.
“... and the gorg's garden and…" Red began, suddenly at the other side.
Mokey shook her head drying her eyes, only to have them fill a moment later.
"No, it can't be just any soil..it has to be the soil were he was first planted in to have the right nutrients..everyone…I, I have to go back to Lanford's planting place..soon, very soon..starting tomorrow if I can..I have to make this right…"
"We'll go with you!" Gobo exclaimed.
"Yeah, you never know when a best friend or two will come in handy, it'll be fun!" Red agreed.
"Me three!" Wembley shouted with a hop.
"I'll come." Came a flat but certain voice.
Everyone but Mokey turned toward the small form of Boober in shocked surprise.
Where Mokey would have normally laughed at her friends more than eager energy there was nothing but a serious pause.
"Oh…everyone..it's too far..even for you Gobo... it's so far from lower rock that you could get lost forever if you aren't use to traveling there.." Mokey said quietly.
"There's more of the rock than here?" Wembley asked.
Boober let out a dry laugh from where he now sat next to Mokey in his usual spot, getting several of the good luck knots he always had in his tail untied absentmindedly in their normal distressing ritual .
"Don't you know anything Wembley? The rock runs under most of the land of silly creatures, remember Northern Rock?"
"Oh yeah, sorry Boober, I forgot…I forget sad things easy I guess..." Wembley sighed.
Mokey worked steadily on a nasty knot in Boober's tail, looking almost afraid to look her friends in the eye as weighted words finally found their way out.
"My clan… we were always drifters when I was little going days without food, water..I don't want to have another friend hurt because of me…”
None of the others seemed to notice when she gave Boober's tail a slight squeeze.
"Besides, don't worry..if I'm going to be able to go.. I can't go alone..it's too dangerous..I need someone experienced, someone like…"
"Uncle Matt?" Gobo said, pulling the newest postcard he had gotten from under his hat in a well practiced swoop. “But he's all the way on the other side of the silly creature world right now I bet…"
"No, no..even better…I only hope…" Mokey's voice trailed off to an uncertain whisper.
Redsonga
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Now if I told that it would tellingI hope Lanford ends up okay ... killing off characters can be so sad.
...
Pork
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You better not kill Lanford *evil glare*!
Or else...I'll...send Tosh's Beast after you!
And show a poison Cackler your picture!
(without it seeing me of course)
Um but yeah, poor Lanford, I hope he's ok. And poor Mokey, how could she forget, tsk tsk. She would feel so bad.
Great writing again. Just loving it
Or else...I'll...send Tosh's Beast after you!
And show a poison Cackler your picture!
(without it seeing me of course)
Um but yeah, poor Lanford, I hope he's ok. And poor Mokey, how could she forget, tsk tsk. She would feel so bad.
Great writing again. Just loving it