Oct 27, 2020 4:09 PM
Lucy gets warped to a different place and time in the Fallen London universe
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She pulls the Monitor down to a rock big enough to hold it and starts picking people out of the Monitor and onto the rock. 

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Shooting at her! That's a thing! The frontal guns are a lot bigger, and still fire quickly.

...Shooting at the Monitor, what about that? Four of them are doing that. One is lagging behind and sort of drifting for some reason.

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She moves to intercept the shooting locomotives, paralyzing the contents of each one before moving on to the next. She doesn't treat the last, drifting one the same way; she goes over to inspect it without any immediate hostile action. 

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There is a mutiny in progress. Pistols and knives in the dark.

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"Hi! Can I have the bodies when you're done?"

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"We din't want to fight a Messenger! Please, mercy and let us put 'em to rest!"

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"I'm not a Messenger! Or, I'm only one-quarter Messenger! I do Mountain-light and I can bring them back." 

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"What?! That's absurd, it's-" Bang, thump.

More shooting.

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She drags the train over to a different rock and glows at it aggressively. 

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This makes things louder inside for a minute!

Then, it sounds like the officers are holed up in the bridge, while the rest of the crew have the rest of the engine. They're shouting at each other - each demanding surrender.

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"Hey, officers, please disembark." 

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Fine. They see no other option. They expect to be treated as prisoners of war. They throw all their weapons out to the enlisted, and march to the locomotive's right hatch, faces grim.

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"I don't know how prisoners of war are treated, I was just planning to confiscate all but one of the trains and let the last one pick you all up and take you back home. Is that okay for prisoners of war?" she asks the crew. 

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That is... Acceptable in prisoners-of-war terms. Though obviously they cannot condone the piracy. They mostly meant they didn't want to be left to die, fucked with through bad prison conditions, or generally tortured, and if she kept them would prefer that she tell their superiors that they're prisoners at some point.

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"Well, I cannot condone the Workworlds."

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Lots of not condoning going on, then. They are Her Majesty's officers and will follow their orders to the best of their ability.

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"Man, I never saw this much loyalty to the Traitor Empress in my London," she sighs. She peers into the train at the mutineers. "Are you guys okay?"

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"...Not really. We don't know what to do now."

"If you're loyal and important enough you can get Hours to keep you young. And your kids get a velvet collar too."

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"A velvet collar? I don't know that I can do anything about that, but Mountainlight is better than Hours for staying young. Also I figured out how to make Hours."

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"Huh, I suppose someone must have made the ones they mine... You'll be about the best thing for the Sky that's happened in a decade then."

"It's an expression. Means they're ostensibly in the lap of luxury, but really... They don't get to leave, and it's very clear that they'd get hurt if the Empress willed it."

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"She does what." 

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"-Well at least, that's what we figure. Perdurance. The beautiful children of society's finest spend the same day over and over there, an eternal party. They seem to enjoy it from what I've heard, but, well, it's pretty hard to leave. We're just deckhands, we don't know if that's all true, but it's what the rumors say."

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"Well that's horrifying. Do any of you have children there?"

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A round of snorts and chuckles. "No way. That's for, like, Barons or Majors or Admirals or Chancellors. Not Sergeants."

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"Okay. That's better than not. For now if you don't mind we'll go to the emancipated Workworlder colony; if you want to go elsewhere from there we can do that." 

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