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Compy

Chapter 2

A.N: My headcanon on Lucca and Crono’s realtionship is mostly based off of Myshu (on Fanficion.net) or MiyaYoshi’s (as she calls herself on DeviantArt) stories, “The Diary of Dr. LEA” and “Kiss me Goodbye.” Actually, I have to give her a TON of credit for this chapter and the upcoming chapters, as she has better helped me to grasp the nuances of this particular character’s personality and lifestyle. If any Chrono Trigger fans do happen to stumble across this, I would urge you to look into her work. It is simply phenomenal.


Melody may not know whether she’s writing for the fandom for for posterity, 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 panties in wad 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 leads to the aforementioned helmet.


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. I’m assuming Melody mentioned the nerd glasses-- of course she did, who am I kidding?). 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 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 of 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 scepticism, 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 Crono and Marle’s wedding, anyway.


All I cared to know about that wedding was that it was a huge, protracted chore that involved wearing a dress. Not that I have anything against dresses-- it’s just that in my personal, professional opinion, I can be a perfect lady without one, thanks very much.


But nooooo, Marle insisted on dragging me to the tailors for a fitting, anyway, which wouldn’t have been have half as embarrassing if Crono hadn’t tagged along. He laughed like a buffoon the entire time-- like seeing me in a light blue satin ensemble instead of my normal orange, grease-stained tunic was the most hilarious thing in the world. He drives me crazy- usually in a way that makes me let loose a string of expletives. But then, we wouldn’t be best friends if we didn’t drive each other a little nuts, would we?


The afternoon after the dress debacle, I was dragging home yet another failed invention from the square, where I had been determined to clear my name of “explosions” and “collateral damage” once and for all. Needless to say, it had failed miserably, on both accounts. I happened to pass Crono, napping in the shade of his favorite tree. The idiot hadn’t even shown up for my presentation! I remember being so worked up that I kicked him, hard, in the ribs. He woke up with a grunt. I proceeded to give him a tongue lashing that ended up turning into a sob-story.


“....and then of course the capacitor overloaded and the stupid thing EXPLODED. I really don’t know why I bother anymore, Crono. ‘Oh look, there goes the crazy Ashtear girl. I wonder what she’ll blow up today?’” I imitated the Mayor for Crono’s benefit. “You’re the only one in this town that puts up with me and you’re running off and marrying a princess!” I pouted (Have I mentioned yet that Marle was the heir to the throne of Guardia?). “I don’t even get a kiss goodbye!”


Crono, who was leaning on his elbows at this point, did the most ridiculous thing he had ever done in his entire life. Rearing up on his haunches, he abruptly pulled me down to his level and kissed me- right on the lips!



I would not blush I would not blush I would NOT blush-- “That was a FIGURE OF SPEECH you--” and here I launched into a string of colorful language that I won’t repeat for the benefit of our Mormon readers.


“You’re cute when you swear,” Crono remarked, and with my face flaming with the fury of a thousand flare spells, I stormed right out of the square and left the remains of my bobsled-o-matic with him.


...Like I said, he drives me crazy. Marle could have him. So why was I dreading the upcoming wedding so much?


My discovery, (who we all know by now as Melody) tried to be sympathetic. “Losing friends hurts,” she remarked.


“You don’t say,” I remarked sourly.


I remained solidly unconvinced that anyone could know what I was going through, until Yuffie met her demise at the hands of that...thing. Melody was heartbroken, I could tell. I remembered Crono’s “death” during our adventures, a death that was only temporary because we had been able to travel to the past to reverse it, and wondered how much more painful it was to lose someone to the void permanently. I realized I was being selfish. Crono wasn’t gone, and he would always be my friend.


So I apologised.


And as we lay there in bed in her grandparents basement, I thought having an extra friend on hand might not be so bad.



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