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This is a joint blog run by all members of the crew (+ stowaways and the Lady herself, of course).
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Here we’ll log events aboard ship, answer questions, and wreak general havoc. Asks and posts will be signed with the emoji corresponding to each crew member who wrote/answered it. Asks will be tagged with “answered” and each crew member will get their own tag under their name.
[Please don’t send OOC asks! You can direct those questions to the owners of the blog, @linafication, @fourteenfandomfan, @/answers-in-my-cigarette-box, @gigglingauspice. OOC posts and announcements will be made in brackets like these.]
-🎶
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Mechtober day 31 - favourite death
A/N: For personal reasons, today is not a good day for me to engage with the concept of permanent death. So....my favourite death? Ambiguous ones.
Jonny D'Ville had been a pirate for most of his extraordinarily long life, and so it should be no surprise that when he finally died, in a barfight, with laughter on his lips and a song in his mechanical heart, the ship of the dead, the Flying Dutchman herself came for him.
The dread ship towered over him, dark and immense, her engines fueled by the wailing souls of the damned, and Jonny smiled to himself as he caught sight of her captain - a twelve foot tall monster with knife like talons and rows upon rows of shining teeth.
"Good to meet you. I wonder, do you fancy a game of cards?" He pulled his old battered deck out from his vest pocket and waved it enticingly.
The captain's gaze was blank. Impenetrable. "YOU WISH TO PLAY FOR YOUR SOUL? I WARN YOU; BILLIONS HAVE TRIED. NONE HAVE SUCCEEDED."
Jonny laughed, the glee echoing unnaturally through the endless corridors of death. "My soul? Why would I give a fuck about that? No, I want to play for your ship."
*
Nastya stood at the edge of a vast and terrible desert and shivered. It was always night here, and her blood froze in her veins. She turned to the tall, skeletal man at her side. "And I have to cross it all alone? What is on the other side?"
The skeletal face managed to look long-suffering. "NORMALLY YOU HAVE TO CROSS ALONE. YOU...HAVE OTHER OPTIONS."
She blinked, and suddenly there was a dark and immense ship beside her, emerging from the sands as though it had always been there.
A familiar figure posed dramatically atop the figurehead. "Need a ride?"
She felt her lips twitch, even as she rolled her eyes.
*
Neither of them were particularly surprised when the Flying Dutchman was enveloped by a familiar presence...when she began to change and grow.
Even if a ship has none of the same original parts, her soul may endure.
Jonny and Nastya stood shoulder to shoulder on Aurora's bridge, and set their course squarely into death.
*
They found Ashes standing in the middle of a plain of grey ashes, a faint smile on their face. Whatever afterlife they had found, they'd plainly burned it down, leaving nothing but a handful of charred feathers.
All they would say on the matter was "Fucking self-righteous bastards with their stupid little harps."
*
The tree buried its roots deep into the ground, drinking in the ancient magics of Avalon. It was a tree, and as such its emotions were complex, but it could be translated as…contented.
"Is that Brian? Why is he in a tree? How do we get him out?"
"You could try kissing him?"
"Why is that always your go-to answer in these situations?"
"Fine. Go ahead. Try your usual solution -"
"-do not shoot me," the tree interrupted, opening its eyes just to glare at them. "Also I'm not in a tree, I am a tree. Reincarnation."
"Oh." Jonny's gun was drawn, but thankfully
he wasn't shooting yet. "Why a tree?"
"I'm not sure," he admitted, trying to ignore the way his branches were now glinting like metal. "It's either a punishment for all the piracy and murder, or a reward for putting up with you lot."
"Sounds really boring."
He huffed. "Now that's just rude. I don't make fun of the way you've chosen to spend your death, now do I?"
"You could, if you would like to."
"Want to come with us and see for yourself?"
It was pretty boring being a tree. And he'd missed his friends. "Oh, alright," Brian said, pulling his feet out from the ground.
*
Ivy's books appeared several days before Ivy herself. One day there was a blank wall, and the next there was an archway leading into an archive far larger than any the living world had ever seen, much of its contents either waterlogged or smelling faintly of smoke.
A few days later Ivy was standing by the shore, waiting patiently as the void washed up and down at her feet. "Ah. Good. There you are. You got the deliveries I sent on ahead, I trust?"
"Yeah. Books, books and more books. You couldn't have added something else? Like instruments, maybe? Ashes needs a bass."
Ivy raised an eyebrow. "Jonny. By my calculations everything that has ever lived is here somewhere. And we're pirates. I'm sure we can figure it out."
*
They raided countless afterlifes, looking for anything they needed or wanted, and somewhere along the line Tim came on board, dragging behind him a very confused young man whom he referred to as Bertie.
Raphaella, they found standing in front of a large jackal, arguing about the relative weights of her heart and her feathers.
"I can assure you, I've weighed them both myself, multiple times. I know which one is heavier."
She gladly came on board, eager to conduct a thorough scientific exploration of death - and to try out the piano they'd stolen from the
feathered fucker with the throne in the fun afterlife with all the torture.
Marius had, once again, found them, turning up on board with a violin in one hand and a diploma in the other. It was unclear whether or not he had even noticed he was dead.
"I am absolutely never going to call you doctor. You can forget that right now."
"Ah, ah, read right here. Doctor Baron Marius Von Raum is hereby awarded a doctorate - "
" - in music, not medicine. That doesn't count."
"What use is a doctorate in medicine? You're dead, Jonny, you don't need medicine. But with a doctorate in music I am fully qualified to tell you that your verse structure is derivative and -"
Jonny shot him. It changed nothing. Dead was dead, after all.
*
The Toy Soldier had pretended to be real for a very long time, and it had thought it was content with its decision to stop. So it was confused to find itself walking through an eternal void. It was rather like those times when its old friend Jonny had thrown it out of the airlock, but there were no stars to be seen...just void.
There wasn't anything else to do, so it kept walking, singing quietly to itself as it went. It couldn't shake the feeling that it might just be the most real thing here, which was not at all a comfortable thought.
It could have been walking for days, or perhaps centuries, when it realised that a ship had pulled up alongside it.
Jonny was leaning out of the airlock, hand stretched out towards it. "Where the fuck have you been? We've been looking everywhere. Ready to come on board?"
It felt warm.
*
Death didn't change. No matter what they did, what afterlife they raided, who they killed or rekilled, everything would go back to just the way it was. And for a group of formerly-immortal space pirates that could be very boring. So when a ghost started manifesting on their ship, everyone gathered to try and figure out what was happening.
At first it was just a hazy figure, barely visible for more than a few seconds. But bit by bit, day by day, it grew stronger - until Dr Carmilla stood in front of them.
There were deep black shadows beneath her eyes, and a beating heart in her chest, and she flickered in and out of existence as she looked them all over, smiling, until her eyes fell on Jonny. "I should have known."
He didn't return the smile. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Rewriting the laws of physics and metaphysics, and inventing a few new scientific disciplines to revolutionise.
I'm sorry it took so long. I started work as soon as I heard about your death."
"And what do you want?"
Her form rippled, but she squared her shoulders. "I wanted to do it right this time. Let it be your choice. There are so many worlds out there, and so many stories still waiting for you. The book may be closed for now, but we're storytellers, you and I. We can always re-open it. There's always another tale to be told."
She reached out a hand.
Jonny grinned.
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