Okay, here goes: I've been a fan of the Scott Pilgrim series for a while, and I've also been writing for a pretty long time. So it seemed like the logical next step to write a fanfiction set in the weird world of Pilgrim. Although I've written a great many stories, I've never tried my hand a fanfiction before, so there's a reasonable chance that this will blow up in my face. I felt that in order to continue the storyline, new characters were necessary, so I had to add several of my own creation. Please read, rate and review as you see appropriate - constructive criticism is definitely welcome!
I hope you enjoy it!
(I do not own Scott Pilgrim or any related characters. All rights to Bryan Lee O'Malley and Oni Press. The Vegan Bureau of Investigations has demanded that the names of certain vegans featured in this article of writing be changed for their own protection.)
Scott and Ramona walked hand in hand alongside the Seine as it snaked through the centre of Paris, their fingers tightly intertwined as they wandered the evening streets together. Ramona's hair was a mellow brown, swept back slightly by the brisk wind. They walked in silence, pausing occasionally for Ramona to brush her hair from her eyes. Ramona was the first to break the silence, speaking quietly as they crossed a bridge over the river.
'Yeah?' Scott's head swivelled round as he spoke.
'I was thinking… how long has it been now?' she asked softly.
'Since Gideon-' Scott began.
'Yes.' she interrupted.
'Um… about a month, I think. I haven't really been keeping track of time, actually. There's been a lot to see.'
'Yeah…' She trailed off, before turning away from him and looking out over the river, her hand slipping gently from his grasp. 'I was wondering if maybe you'd… like to go back home.'
'Back to Toronto? Well, yeah, it's getting pretty late…' Scott murmured.
'No, that's not what I meant.'
'I, uh… what did you mean?' Scott mumbled obliviously.
'I meant to stay, Scott. I think I've changed my mind.' Ramona said quietly, not turning to face him.
'Wha… what!' Scott recoiled back, blinking. 'About what? You don't mean-'
Ramona turned around slowly, her solemn expression turning into a wry smile.
'You may recall, Scott Pilgrim, that I reserved the right to change my mind about a certain something back when we first went out.' she whispered into his ear. It took several seconds to click.
'Oh. Oh! Yes! That! Of course! Home…' Scott's face broke into a wide grin. Ramona reached for the Subspace bag that usually rested on her hip, only to find it missing. Scott noticed, taking her hand in his.
'Can I do it? I've been practicing…' Ramona nodded wordlessly. Scott had indeed been learning from her how to use Subspace, and he was a fast (if somewhat erratic) learner. She let him lead her away from the bridge's side and towards a flickering square in the centre of the pavement, which began to solidify into a door as Scott screwed up his face in concentration. A plain brown door with a simple star scratched into the wood materialised before them. Not bad, Ramona thought. Not as neat as mine, but still.
Scott reached out and grasped the door handle, twisting it and pushing gently, letting the door swing open. He turned to look at Ramona, but was surprised to see her yelp and turn away, covering her eyes. Looking through the doorway himself, his eyes were greeted with the sight of a shirtless Wallace glaring at him indignantly while trying to conceal a similarly disrobed Mobile with a blanket.
'Wallace! Um, hi!' Scott stuttered.
'GET OUT!' shouted Wallace. 'You don't live here anymore, Scott! Go! Leave!' Scott rapidly slammed the door, mumbling an unheard apology. The wooden door flickered out of existence.
'Yeah… I don't think you've quite got the hang of that yet, Pilgrim.' Scott turned to see Ramona smirking at him, standing next to a spotless white door marked with a small painted star. 'Shall we?'
The waves lapped gently up the beach, tickling the feet of the young man, lying flat on his back on the gleaming white sand. He lay with his limbs askew, one hand holding a small glass of wine which he swirled elegantly around, bringing it to his mouth from time to time to drink. He wore dark shorts and a plain white shirt, crumpled slightly by the sand. A pair of sunglasses covered his eyes.
He lay there for a long time, letting the crystal-clear water flow around his feet, watching the birds circling the sun overhead. Then he stretched out his free hand and cupped his palm, scooping up a handful of the hot sand and letting it trickle through his fingers. He repeated his action several times, but on the fifth handful he paused before throwing it up into the air above him, watching intently as it froze in midair, suspended as if time had ground to a halt. He looked up at the hundreds of tiny grains for a few moments, and then they fell back down around him, parting in midair so as not to land on him.
The young man stood abruptly, alarming a colourful bird which fluttered around its solitary palm tree. He turned slowly in a full circle, surveying his surroundings.
Then he disappeared, leaving no trace but an outline in the sand.
'Hollie! Where the hell are my drums?' shouted Kim Pine at the top of her voice. She stood in the (now suspiciously empty) living room of her shared apartment. Things had been pretty quiet since Joseph had moved in with Stephen Stills, but something was very wrong. Kim had gotten up as usual that morning, had eaten breakfast as usual, had gone work at No-Account Video (as usual), and had come home. But there were two differences. He was here, and her drums were gone.
'Oh. Hey there, Kim.' Jason smiled laconically from the couch, his arm around Hollie as they watched television together. Hollie ignored Kim entirely, eyes fixed on the screen as Jason stroked her hair lazily. 'Yeah, we moved your gear. You don't mind, right?'
'You moved my drums? You touched my bloody drums!' erupted Kim, reaching forward and angrily snapping her fingers in front of Hollie's face. Hollie glanced up in annoyance.
'Do you mind? I'm watching this.' muttered Hollie, scowling at Kim.
'Where the fuck are my drums, you bitch!' Kim yelled. Jason winced slightly at her outburst, but Hollie remained utterly unfazed.
'I put them in the garage.' she said simply, turning back to the television.
'Hollie, we don't even have a bloody garage!' fumed Kim.
'Oh. Right. I meant that they're in your car.'
'I don't even have a car, you stupid-' Jason held up a hand, cutting smoothly across Kim's ranting.
'Actually, Kim, you do. Here.' He flicked a set of car keys from his other hand at her and she caught them deftly, pausing to think.
'Wait a minute… these are your keys.' she said, her voice returning to its usual deadpan tone. Jason shook his head, continuing to caress Hollie's hair.
'They're yours now. Think of it as a… gesture of goodwill.'
'For what? You cheating on me with my roommate and then dating her right in front of me?' asked Kim. Jason just smiled widely in response.
'Actually, Kim, there was something we wanted to tell you.' said Hollie, her eyes not shifting from the screen. 'You have to move out. Like, tonight.' Jason finished, avoiding Kim's furious gaze.
'What? I have to move out? Are the pair of you going to throw me out?' she growled.
'No. You just don't live here anymore. Jason lives with me now. He co-signed the lease and everything.' said Hollie, reclining further into Jason's lap. Jason glanced at Kim and shrugged.
'Yeah, she's right. And you signed the papers, too. You're not a resident anymore.'
'You what?' Kim exploded. 'I didn't sign anything!'
'Yeah, you did. Remember Wednesday night?' asked Hollie. Kim cast her mind back. Wednesday evening had been a confused maelstrom of depression and tequila.
'You pair of-'
Ramona lay snuggled up next to Scott in her bed, the bedclothes (and most of their clothes) strewn across the room. They were both panting slightly.
'Wow. Rammy, just… wow.'
Rating: Awesome (at sex)
Ramona looked up, smiling, her hands wrapped around Scott's chest.
'Thanks, Scott. You weren't bad yourself.' she said, gently nuzzling his chest.
Ramona V. Flowers
Rating: Also awesome
Scott hugged her tightly, tenderly kissing her forehead. She inclined her head back and they lay there together, tongues and limbs intertwined. They stayed like this for several minutes before their passionate kissing was cut short by a piercing ringing sound. Scott raised his head, trance-like.
'Ugh… doorbell…' Scott rolled out of bed, releasing Ramona, and got slowly to his feet. 'I'll get it.'
Kim was tapping her foot impatiently when Scott opened the door, clothed in one of Ramona's brightly coloured dressing gowns.
'Uh… hi, Kim.' he mumbled, staring at the ground. Kim did not look pleased. Not that she usually did, but she today she looked particularly displeased, and Scott hadn't spoken to her in weeks.
'Scott. Is Ramona here? I wanted to ask you something.' Kim said. Scott looked up, alarmed.
'Um… no! No, she isn't here. She, uh, went out. Yeah, that's it. She's away. Not here.' he chattered nervously. Kim looked at him directly, taking in the image before her. Realisation dawned.
'Oh. Right. I'll just go.' she turned to leave, but someone called out her name.
'Kim! What did want to ask us?' Ramona appeared at Scott's shoulder, fully clothed. Her hair was already covered in strips of dye. Scott stared at her, confused.
'Rammy, how did you do that…?' Ramona raised a hand to silence him, looking at Kim.
'I… wanted to ask if perhaps I could stay with you guys for a little while. Hollie… kicked me out. She's living with Jason now.' Kim said morosely.
'Was Jason the guy with the car?' Scott interjected.
'But isn't that his car there? With all your… um… clothes… in the back window?'
'He gave me the keys. Said 'no hard feelings' or some bullshit like that.' scowled Kim.
'Isn't there anywhere else you could stay?' asked Scott, glancing longingly at Ramona.
'Well, I went to Stills' place but he's got no room with Joseph and Neil there, there's no way in hell I'm staying with Julie, and Wallace is generally being weird with his psychic boyfriend or whatever. I thought here might be the only place with room and no loud sex. But…'
'Psychic boyfriend…' mumbled Scott.
'Kim, of course you can stay here. You're one of my best friends.' Ramona cut across Scott. 'And I'll try and restrain my feelings for Scott in the meantime.'
'I think Scott restraining his feelings for you is going to be a bigger problem.' muttered Kim, glaring at Scott.
'He'll behave. Don't worry about it.'
'I'll hold you to that, Flowers.'
'So you two finally did it, huh?' asked Stephen Stills, arranging slices of aubergine on a plate in the kitchen of the Happy Avocado.
Scott was humming to himself merrily as he scrubbed away at a bowl.
'Yeah, we kinda did…' he smiled to himself. 'And it was amazing'
'Well, I guess it must've been a pretty long time since either of you…'
'Yes. It was. Let's talk about something else now.' said Scott. Stills laughed.
'Fine, fine. I bet she looked hot naked though, huh?'
'Dude! That's my girlfriend you're talking about!' shouted Scott from across the kitchen. Stills raised his hands defensively.
'Whoa, Scott, calm down. I was just joking.' Scott turned away and chuckled quietly.
'I know. And she totally did.' he said.
'So you two are really going to settle down here? I mean, the two of you were obviously have a good time travelling together.'
'Yeah, but… well, we still have to earn a living. We actually burned through the money we got from selling the Chaos Theatre pretty fast, so I figured I should get a job again. Ramona's working for in Toronto again too. The staff there were pretty mad when she walked back in. Most of their couriers got fired on the spot.' Scott said with a grin. Stills laughed.
'Yeah, I guess that she would be pretty good at her job. Y'know, with the Subspace travel and everything. But how did you even get your job back here? They fired the poor guy who took over in ten seconds flat when I mentioned that you were back in town. And I'm pretty sure that he was better at washing dishes than you.'
'Yeah… funny story, actually. I rang up the manager yesterday to ask if I could have my old job back, and he was like 'are you that one guy who took down G-Man Graves?', so I was like 'yeah, that was me' and then he was just like 'sure, you've got the job'. Weird, huh?' Stills frowned.
'Right… I think maybe you might have inadvertently threatened your way back into work, Scott.'
'What! No, I'm sure they just knew that we were friends.'
'Yeah… I'm sure that was it.' muttered Stills sarcastically, lifting two plates laden with vegetables handing them to a waiter, who briskly left the kitchen. Scott stopped wiping the bowl and stared at is thoughtfully.
'Hey, Stephen Stills?' Stills glanced up at Scott, who was standing motionless, clutching the bowl.
'Still here, Scott. I'm not actually going anywhere.'
'Isn't there a show at the Rockit tomorrow night? I though Crash and the Boys were playing.'
'They changed their name, you know. They're called 'The Boys! And Crash!' now.'
'Right, whatever. Is there a show on?' said Scott impatiently.
'Yeah, it's like some collection of bands. I think the Boys are opening.'
'Great! I'm going! You're coming too.'
'What? I don't want to be the third wheel to you and Ramona.' grumbled Stills.
'You can bring Joseph. I was going to invite Wallace and Kim too. And Neil, if he wants to come.'
'Oh. Fine, I'll go. But you're buying us drinks.'
'Great! Ten tomorrow, at-
'The Rockit? Wasn't that the place where you fought Matthew?' asked Ramona, lying stretched out on the couch in her living room, her head covered by Scott's striped hat. Scott was sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing her. Kim had set up her drum kit alongside an impromptu bed in the corner of the room, and was seated on a stool, idly sharpening a drumstick to point with Scott's sword, the Power of Love.
'Yeah, that's the place. Come on, it'll be fun!' Scott begged. Kim shrugged.
'I'll go. I'm not doing anything here anywhere, and I'm not working tomorrow. I might kick that girl drummer's ass too.'
'Kim, I think she's, like, nine years old…' Scott protested weakly. Ramona straightened up, adjusting the hat.
'I'll go if you want, Scott. I'd like to catch up with everybody. Will Wallace be there?'
'Yeah, he said he'd come with Mobile.'
'Good. We need to apologise to them for what happened the other night.'
'Wait, what happened the other night?' Kim cut in. Scott turned on her, scowling.
'Something that we are not going to talk about tonight or ever!' he shouted, marching out of the room. Ramona smirked at Kim and began to explain.
Scott walked along the street with his friends, Ramona's arm wrapped comfortably around his waist. Her hair was a vivid red, and flowed down her back in waves. Kim was walking sullenly along next to Stills and Joseph, who were quietly chatting about music. Stephen stopped talking and led the group down an alleyway, walking them through a small side-door into the building.
They were met with a scene of devastation. The audience were strewn across the floor, some getting dizzily to their feet, others lying motionless. Joel, Crash and Trisha were seated at the bar, surveying the room with an air of satisfaction.
Fun Fact: This place sucks
'I told you it would be better to arrive twenty minutes late.' Stills muttered to Scott. 'Where are our seats?'
'What the hell… is she drinking vodka?' Kim growled, glaring at the band's drummer, who gave a little wave.
The others ignored her, proceeding up the steps to the upper level, overlooking the stage. Wallace was already there, seated at a table with Mobile lying over several chairs, head in Wallace's lap as Wallace stroked his hair.
'Hi, Wallace!' Ramona called, causing him to turn his head and gesture to the seats near him. Scott stared at the motionless body of Mobile.
'Is he okay?' he asked.
'He's fine, Scott. He probably just got blasted by the soundwaves.' said Stills. Wallace shook his head.
'Nah, he just had a work thing. He's attending it on the astral plane, but he left his body here to accompany me.' He smiled, tweaking Mobile's glasses slightly.
Rating: Gayer than Stephen Stills, and damn proud of it
'Okay… well, that's… weird as hell, frankly.' said Ramona, sitting down at the opposite end of the row. Scott fell into a chair next to her, motioning to the others to sit down.
Beneath them, the audience was beginning to get to its collective feet. An announcer walked onto the stage, looking mildly shaken. Scott could hear Trisha sniggering from below.
'So that was, um, the Boys and Crash…' he began, but was interrupted by Joel shouting from the bar.
'We're called The Boys! And Crash!, idiot!'
'Uh, yes. So, the next band is an electro-rock group from Germany, and they're called…' he trailed off, squinting at the tiny sheet of paper in his hand. 'I… I don't know how to pronounce that.' Four short-haired men in matching suits marched onto the stage, each carrying a sizable keyboard. They clicked hinges and span dials, setting up stands and tweaking their instruments. Ramona frowned, a thoughtful expression on her face.
'They look kind of familiar…'
'Well, duh. They're seriously popular over in Europe, apparently.' said Kim, crossing her arms.
'No, that's not it…' Ramona shrugged.
'Why, do you know them or something?' asked Scott, staring down at the four keyboardists.
'I… I'm not sure. I can't remember...'
A single discordant note rang out, reverberating around the room. A cascade of digital bleeps followed, drowning out Ramona's words. The keyboardists had begun to play. One of them raised a hand to the side of his, head tapping a microphone mounted from his ear.
'Ya tvoi sluga, ya tvoi rabotnik…' he chanted, his voice amplified and distorted.
'Is that Russian?' Stephen wondered aloud. Ramona's eyes widened in shock.
'Scott! I remember who they are! They-'
Then they began to play.
The melody flowed forth from their amps in crashingly load waves, paralysing the audience. Ramona froze mid-sentence, unable to move. Scott saw fear in her eyes as they struggled to break free of the invisible iron grip that grasped them. Kim's face was frozen in an expression of boredom, but her eyes conveyed little emotion beyond furious rage. They men continued to strike at the keys, their eerie rhythm erupting from the speakers in stunning bursts. Scott felt the sheer power of their sound pressing down on him from all angles, crushing him, constricting around his throat. Two of the four struck a deafening chord, and the blast of noise flashed through the crowd beneath them as a shockwave of blinding white light. Scott shut his eyes tightly, trying to shield his eyes but unable to move his hands. When he looked again, the lower level of the Rockit had been reduced to ash and dust, swirling beneath him. He felt the musicians' grip tighten, and his feet left the floor as he was lifted, powerless, into the air. He saw Ramona and the others begin to levitate, too, before his head was snapped around to face the four men. They stared up at him; their faces void emotion, playing on as the upper floor disintegrated behind Scott. He struggled and wrestled with the force that contained him, but to no avail. Eyes darting around, he saw his friends drifting in the air next to him, trying hopelessly to fight the choking sound. He saw Ramona, face contorted with terror, revolving slowly in the air right next to him, and he tried to reach out a hand to her, but couldn't move even a finger.
A door appeared.
One moment there was nothing, then the next, a huge mahogany door materialised beneath them. The keyboardists blinked in surprise, not ceasing to play, and turned their gaze from Scott to the door, which stood there, lifeless and inert. Scott felt the grip around his neck loosen slightly, but not enough for him to move.
The door opened a crack, and a sound emanated from within, a pumping bass line, audible even over the electronic notes echoed around the room. Then the drums began to play, pulsing from behind the door with a solid, rhythmic beat, visibly disturbing the keyboardists, who began to play with even greater intensity.
An almighty guitar chord blasted the door open, sending a shockwave of light and sound flying towards the stage, causing the men to recoil before continuing their music with renewed vigour. Scott felt the force holding them loosen its grip even further, leaving them suspended in the air as though gravity had ceased to function. He reach out and seized Ramona's hand, pulling her into a tight midair embrace as they watched the men below.
'Ramona… what's happening?' Scott shouted over the din.
'I don't know! The band… they know me, they're here to get us! I think…' Scott saw her mouthing to him, but her voice was utterly drowned out by a second, deafeningly loud chord, leading into an equally deafening melody which tore through the stage with its destructive rhythm. Ramona clutched Scott tightly as something – someone – emerged from the doorway. A tall, angular young man walked smartly into the room, carrying an electric guitar, with a massive amp simply floating through the doorway behind him, blasting out the melody he expertly played. A bass guitar and a drum kit followed, drifting into the room while seemingly playing themselves. The strings on the bass plucked as if being picked, and a pair of drumsticks hovered over the drums, beating out a rock-hard beat that caused the drums to blur slightly as the soundwaves distorted the air around them.
The four electronic musicians were playing frantically now, struggling to keep up with the astonishing beats of the floating instruments. The young man suddenly released his grasp of the guitar in his hands, and let it drift away from him into the air, the melody not missing a beat as it began to play itself.
How is he doing that? Scott thought to himself, holding onto Ramona. Is he psychic? Ramona wore an expression of complete shock at his appearance.
He stood there, instruments hovering in midair around him, shielding him perfectly from the blasts of sound tearing up the floorboards around him as the keyboardists furiously pounded their own instruments. His face bore a calm, almost bored expression, his eyes hidden behind a pair of shades. He was handsome in a not-obvious manner, with longish red hair and a thin, slightly taut face, wearing a plain black T-shirt with long sleeves and dark jeans. He stood confidently but elegantly, his mere posture giving him an aura of total control, as though the pulsing waves of energy that surrounded him were not quite enough. He raised one hand and angled it slowly, smiling as the sound of his own instruments amplified to an ear-crushing volume, entirely drowning out the noise of the four men on stage. Then with a sweep of his arm, the stage erupted into dust, torn to shreds by a sheer, invisible force. The keyboardists exploded simultaneously, raining change down across the room as they burst into coins.
The young man let his hands drop to his sides, and the instruments disappeared in an instant, taking the door to Subspace with them. He turned to look at the seven behind him, still floating in midair. Wallace was slowly rotating head over heels, trying to wake Mobile, while Stephen clung onto Joseph as they revolved in midair. Kim scowled down at him, slowly drifting up towards the ceiling. Scott and Ramona were still holding each other, staring down in general confusion.
He clicked his fingers, and they fell-
Well, that was chapter one. This isn't going to be a one- or two-shot: I plan to keep it going until I can reach a good ending. Please review!
Chapter 2 is now up! Read away!