Lucca Asstear

[redacted]: warning: LONG and TERRIBLE

Lucca grunted.
Below, they were waiting for her. Below was a cake, and a podium, and a speech to be given, and a crowd that was growing larger by the moment. Below was the adoring public, her friends Crono
(beloved Crono of the easy smile and the firm hands)
and Marle
(she took him, she took him and she doesn't even know it)
and her family, and soon, soon, the king. It was, after all, a ceremony to award her with the Royal Order of the Scientist, First Class.
But all that was below, and she was not below. She was in one of Guardia Castles oldest privies, locked in the fight of her young life. Here, now, she groaned, sweated, her guts twisting like she was giving birth to a ball of knives. Here, she shat, loudly, violently, the noise of escaping waste echoing off the tiles like a foul, brassy trumpet.
It stank terribly, like the shit of some wasted future mutant. She could not believe, on some level, that she could have harbored such filth without becoming irreparably corrupted herself.
It was liquid, drippy, wet, shameful, the excretion of a baby. Lucca knew again all the shames of the child, of the invalid, of those whose body is beyond their control. She was covered with her own filth. Thank the dubious and possibly nonexistent Entity that there was toilet paper within reach.
She reached out, groaning, fingers extended - and realized that Taban had placed his dispenser too far to reach. She tried again, and her fingernails only brushed at the roll. No! NO! Not like this! Gathering her strength, she lunged again, sweat stinging her eyes.
With a clatter, the dispenser fell, the toilet paper rolling free. An icy fist curled its fingers around her heart, and she
(shameful, so shameful, a DIRTY GIRL)
farted in horror, hearing another series of springshower drippings below her
(ungh I'm sandblasting the porcelain with my own guts)
and then she blinked. The toilet roll lay on its side perhaps six feet away, a thin streamer of paper extending from it, extending towards her, like a tail. No, no, a lifeline. Got to reach it, she thought, whimpering in her throat. Got to. She stretched again, perching on the rim like a feces splattered sculpture of the thinker.
Stand up, Lucca, her mother said in her stern pre-crippled voice. Stand up and get the paper. Stand up and wipe your ass. Stand up like I can't.
Lucca bit her lip until she tasted salty blood, reflecting that it was worse, far, far worse, to remember the sound of your mother's shinbones splintering with the cold clarity of adulthood than it was to remember with the animal terror of childhood.
That hardened ball of fucking sap hadn't helped her feel better. It hadn't helped at all.
(But I can't stand up, ma, I can't, I can't- I can't)
Her ass was dripping like Magus's dick over a basket of purple kittens. Her legs were already numb from the sitting, feeled with pinpricks. If she tried to walk, to take a single step, she would pitch forward, dripping shit all over her pants and socks, and then she would have to go before her adoring public. No. No, it wouldn't do. It wouldn't
She reached again, and finally got her finger on the paper. Yes. Yes, yes, yes fuckyes. It was better than discovering her clit, her finger on the paper. Yes. Now pull, pull slowly, slowly.
The castle floor was sticky with old soldier pee, covered with a dusting of pubic hair. She couldn't wipe with anything that had touched that - it would give her crabs at the very least. But if she could just get the roll to her, she could tear off the outer layer.
She could make this right. Yes, yes, slowly now.
(Eyes hurt, head hurts gut hurts but slow, slow, slowwww)
She pulled, and the paper unrolled, its tail growing. It wormed away from her almost mockingly, turning dark with the filth on the floor. Fingers sweaty, brow sweaty, smell like someone fucked a slaughterhouse with a fresh turd. Had to stay calm, had to pull, had to-
(NO!)
The roll skittered away again, like her dreams, like the hope of making things right, like the insidious password that she just couldn't get right no, no, no, no got to stop got to get it slow, slow baby just so slow, so slowwww
(LARA, LARA, LARA)
The roll stopped moving, and she felt so absurdly grateful that she thought she might vomit. Her neck muscles ached from the tension. Her heart hammered. It was worse than Lavos, this moment. She faced the lavos of her soul, her nightmares. But the roll stopped moving. Just a little more, just a little
(NO FUCK FUCK NOOOOO)
The roll lay empty, the last strands of paper sliding off into her hand. Oh Entity, oh entity, oh entity no, no, nonononononono
(Gotta wait, gotta wait for the shit to dry, gotta, gotta wait)
A sharp knock at the door. "Lucca, it's Marle. Are you okay? Wh- what's that smell? What's happened?"
"FINE!" she shrieked. "DOWN SOON! DOWN SOON!"
"You don't sound fine," Marle said. "I'm coming in, Lucca.""
NO NO NONONO
"Crono's here too and he's not talking like usual but he'll help and also a have a reporter with us that's cool right"
NOOOooooooooooo
The knob turned with a click.
-THE END

And that was how the smartest woman in Guardia became known
as
Lucca
Asstear