Warm Summer Nights

Prolouge and The Party

The scene opens on a tree house in the sweltering heat of summer. The slim branches of the old willow hang green and still as the blue and cloudless vault over head looks down upon the green, windless grasslands.   Far off in the distance a shining mountain range is dripping ice cold water as it's main resident is too put out by the heat to reinforce her ice kingdom.

A figure in a long black cloak wearing a large brimmed shady hat with pulled down over his eyes makes his way to the lone tree house, converse covered feet floating a few inches off the ground on his way.

Marshalls POV:

"It"s too damn hot to think" I thought to myself as I drifted my way over to the tree house I built, now inhabited by a certain bunny rabbit and her feline. I had hurried on the way over but now that I was in eyesight of the tree house didn't want to seem like I was in a hurry.

It was the hottest day in the hottest month in the hottest season in the land of Aaa. Back when I was young it was referred to as the dog days of summer but any one who had called it that but me and a few other immortals were long dead. Which brings me back to the reason I was going to the treehouse during the middle of the day in the first place. Usually, during this kind of heat, when the ground is still warm long after the sun has set, I like to stay cool and asleep deep underneath the ground in my own cave far from the reaches of the sun. But on this particular day, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't put my mind at ease. From  trying to watch some old, warped, VHS tapes to playing sour notes on my usually calming bass everything just seemed...off.

On the outside, I, of course, blamed it on the pervasive heat. But in all reality, I had been kind of funny for the past 3 and 1/2 weeks, or to be precise, since Lumpy Space Prince's party when I last saw Fionna.

I had rehashed what had happened so many times in my head I could write a dissertation on it .

Pt. 1  After hearing that Lumpy Space Prince was having a party in the woods I decide to pay Fionna a visit and ask her to come with me, thinking it would be a nice change of pace seeing as how, after she attended one of my bands shows she was rather shaken up by the amount of people there, the general chaos and the vampire punks' nasty habit of setting fire to the mosh pit.   And as it's raining out and nearing twilight I can go out with regular clothes .

Pt. 2 Having reached the treehouse, before I can burst through a window and scare and unsuspecting fionna, I discover a certain candy prince making his way to the door with a purple tupperware of pastries.   I watch as he reaches the front door and proceeds to ever so confidently let himself in. I begin to get progressively more and more pissed as he walks up to the second floor landing. I wonder to myself what kind of terms he and fionna are on that he would dare just let himself in.

Pt.  3  I have to stuff my shirt in my mouth to keep from losing my mind laughing when fionna nearly decapitates him out of surprise. Turns out it was just his superiority complex that deemed him too good too knock. Feeling tired of just waiting outside the window in the rain I decide to make my entrance. Faster than humanly possible (but simply too easy for a vampire, let alone the damn king) I suck the low grade red out of the sickly sweet pastries and blast out of the opposite's window too the roof.  As I situate myself to a comfortable position and unsling my bass from over my back I hear bickering from below.  I begin to pick out a few notes, I had had an idea forming for a song for the past couple of days but it just wasn't coming together.  I hear heavy steps ascending the rungs of the ladder to the roof and nearly lose it again when I see a miffed looking bunny struggling up the steps with his "oh so precious" royal highness slung across her shoulders and a damp looking cat in the top of her bunny hat.  I can't help but resent Gumball a bit for making Fionna carry his ass all the way up that slippery ladder.  I may be an asshole but is he really so self obsessed.  I know all too well that a simple fall could break her back and cripple her for life, or worse, her neck, killing her instantly.  Kind of morose, I know, but when you're born to feast on the entrails of the weak and guzzle the blood of the enemy and then chose to spend you're days wandering around the top world playing guitar and filling your days with teasing the last human in existence these thoughts do tend to crop up.