I REALLY don't need to add to my growing pile of unfinished stories. I really, REALLY don't.

But meh, Clanker is sexy, so who cares? *runs around in a Team Clanker t-shirt holding a sign that says "CLANKER MARRY ME"*

I took a bit of inspiration from "Same Difference" and its sequel, one of my favorite series, by the amazing Vampirex1. I LOVE LOVE LOVE Maccus, but because I've recently taken on Clanker as my current favorite, well... yeah.

And actually, that story isn't where the inspiration for this came from. No, it came when I was listening to music, practicing drawing hands. Because hands are the hardest f-ing thing to draw. Besides poses, but that's beside the point. I drew the hand coiled around a rope, and of course the hand had to be attached to an arm. Before I knew it, I had a nice woman who was dress in Converse, jeans, and a t-shirt with a picture of a dead sun that said "A RAY OF FREAKIN' SUNSHINE".

So I titled it, and actually this is the original title. LOL. I also decided it would be best described as "a POTC time-tripping Clanker love story".

So, I'm going to work very hard on the next chapter soon as I post, and I hope you all like and leave me some nicey reviews! :D


I found myself in Wonderland

Get back on my feet again

Is this real? Is it pretend?

I'll take a stand until the end

I... I'll get by

I... I'll survive

When the world's crashin' down

When I fall and hit the ground

I will turn myself around

Don't you try to stop me

I... I won't cry...

~"Alice", Avril Lavigne


It be Flyin' Dutchman Month here at the Drunken Sailor! Megan Reese's fingers flew effortlessly and excitedly over the keyboard as she typed up her latest post for the website. Her luggage sat next to her, and her computer was on her lap. Thankful that the airport had wi-fi, she continued.

Ye all know what that means, me scurvy dogs. Ev'ry single day this month, me posts will contain info, analyzation, 'n' popular references o' all things Flyin' Dutchman. Mayhap even some jokes, if I find it funny ta drink rum, then sit there 'n' stare at the empty bottle. Not ta mention, I'll scour the rest o' the world wide web fer pictures. Includin' the ones from the official wiki, but I'll be bloody flogged by Jimmy Legs if I don't find more!

Also, as a side note, I'm vacationin' in the Caribbean fer the summer. Haha, yes, I'm livin' the dream, poppets. Hopefully it'll give me a LOT of inspiration, 'n' I promise I'll post every day as usual. I might be havin' quite a lot o' fun though, so fer those of ye that follow regularly, bear wit' me if I'm an hour or two late! I shall have much fun runnin' round the cruise ship 'n' yellin' "Scungilli!" at ev'ryone.

Yo ho ho, a bottle o' rum, 'n' a jar o' dirt to ye all, lads 'n' lasses!

-Maraudin' Meg

"Gate 26, now boarding. Gate 26."

Megan quickly closed her laptop and put it into its padded carry-on case. Oh well, she'd have to work on typing up the first article while she was already in the air. It'd be something to do, at least, instead of sleeping or... dying of boredom. She already had a rough order of how she was going to do the articles; captain first, obviously, then according to who seemed most popular with the fans. Unfortunately, that meant poor Angler was probably going to be coming up last. She seldom saw his name in fics, let alone him being a central character.

Fortunately, though, that meant she'd get to write about her favorite character as one of the first handful. "Oh, Clanker, love," she muttered, adopting a fake English accent as she slung her case and purse over her shoulder and grabbed the handle on her obnoxiously neon pink rolling suitcase. "Someday I shall make a hat like yours. And then I shall make a wig of seaweed. Then I shall put them on, parade around, and pretend I'm you. Because you are too sexy for your shirt, but sadly I cannot be because that would break several laws."

She searched for the sign that indicated her gate, and headed in that direction. "Of course, m'dear," she added in her regular American tourist voice, under her breath so the other passengers wouldn't think she was crazy, "not today. Today it's good-bye, rainy Oregon... and hello to Aruba, Jamaica, oooooh I wanna take ya to Bermuda, Bahamas, come on pretty mama..."

She raised an eyebrow at herself. "Er, just so we're clear, brain voices, no lesbo. That's just the song, thank you very much."


Boarding the plane wouldn't have taken so long, honestly, if there hadn't been a line. If there was one thing Megan hated, it was lines. But oh well for her, because it seemed that the world simply ran on lines. Whenever she didn't want to see a line, one randomly cropped up in front of her.

She insisted on not stowing her luggage, since there was nobody else in her row. She kept it right beside her; she wasn't far from the door, and she wanted to be the first one out and enjoying the Caribbean. While all the other poor suckers were clamoring to get their bags from the top, she'd be laughing it up at a kiosk.

The plane's takeoff was something she wasn't used to, and it was a bit rough to her, but it wasn't all bad. Once she was strapped into her seat, she intended to stay there till her bladder forced her to go to the bathroom. She had to get started typing; if she got a few articles done in advance, then maybe she could upload them on their designated days and not spend a lot of time writing when she could be enjoying her vacation.

Arrrrr! Ourrrrr first order o' business fer Flyin' Dutchman Month, o' course, be her glorious captain. As any seafarin' bloke/lass knows, that be the most feared, legendary, but tragically misunderstood Davy Jones. Yarr! Look ta yer left fer a photographic representation. Are ye lookin'? Do ye have the heart ta look? LOOK!

Hardy har har! A bit o' humor fer my regulars out there. Now, in case ye be new ta the legend of Davy Jones... well, first, look at the tentacles. How much ye wanna wager they squirm about when he's talkin'? Aye, sometimes they do, but that's usually only if he REALLY be angry. Like that one time Beckett Cutler... err, SOMETIMES KNOWN CUTLER BECKETT!... (LOL, mates, it seems Barbossa's actor has invaded me keyboard wit' his blooper reel) brought the Dead Man's Chest, which contains Captain Jones's heart, onta the ship. That, me hearties, is what be called a "dick move".

The story of Davy Jones and the sea goddess Calypso be a heartrendin' affair, 'n' it also be very well-known. But, if ye've just stumbled upon the wonderful world of pirates, swordfightin', 'n' rum, I'll give ye rats a colorful retellin'. *AHEM*

Megan paused, leaning forward and grabbing her cup. Before she started this, she would need a good long drink. She briefly opened up her folder of pictures, making sure she had at least a few to get herself started for Davy. And yep, there were maybe four. Huzzah. As she scrolled back up, preparing to close it, she caught sight of the many pictures she'd accumulated of Clanker.

To say he was her favorite would be an understatement. Her hunger for fics and pics of him could never be satisfied. So far she had eight pictures of him, and each one was something different and special, yet she wanted more.

A concept art picture, in which he was proudly displaying his chain-shot. Two pictures of him looking up at different angles, from when he told Will to "get down on yer marrowbones 'n' pray!" A Dead Man's Chest promotion shot of his face from the front. A picture of him grinning on the Dutchman, probably ready to put that chain-shot to good use. A picture of him laughing before the game of Liar's Dice between Davy and Will. A picture of him turning the Kraken Hammer capstan. A picture of his agony-ridden face as Jimmy whipped him while he was turning the Kraken Hammer capstan.

Then the group pictures. One of him on deck with Hadras, Palifico, and the Twins, laughing and clearly ready to whup some ass. One of him on land with Koleniko, Jimmy Legs, Crash, and a couple others she couldn't see well enough to make out. One of him standing amongst the crew (which included Hadras, Maccus, Jimmy Legs, and Ogilvey) while Davy opened the titular Dead Man's Chest. One of him near Palifico when Beckett was pissing off Davy. One of him behind Palifico as they were all staring in a "Come Sail Away" manner on the ship. And her favorite "Dutchman camaraderie" pic, of him playing Liar's Dice with Maccus and Koleniko.

So, counting all his individual pictures and those he was in a group of... that made 14 pictures of Clanker.

... Wow. And most people didn't even know if his real name was Clanker or Clacker. (Pfft. Clacker. Silly name for a pirate, if you asked her.)

Was it odd that she obsessed over his each and every facial expression and moment of screen time? Or that she had saved the clip of him saying his famous quote to her hard drive and listened to it like twenty times every day? She often called him "poor Clanker", because it seemed that while he was eager to fight with the others, it looked like he was just a good-natured, likes-to-laugh kind of guy who'd gotten caught up in that life.

Not to mention, she angsted and traced her finger over the screen every time she brought up that picture of him being whipped. Poor Clanker.

She pushed those thoughts out of her mind. No, she couldn't indulge her obsession right now. Later, but not now. She was typing about the all-powerful captain of the Dutchman. An amazing and mysterious man, the stuff of legend. Speaking of legends, hadn't she been writing about his?

Fingers back to the keys, then, just like Fall-Out Boy's "Thanks for the Memories".

Davy Jones grew up in Scotland, but most o' his early life ain't known. We can only assume he grew up wit' lovin' parents, maybe some siblings, perhaps a dog. Then again, ye know, maybe not. It's all speculation, really.

As a man, he became a great sailor 'n' pro'lly a captain at some point. Then he fell in love wit' a woman who was essentially the sea itself: the goddess Calypso. Unfortunately, the relationship didn't exactly work out. Mainly because she blew 'is hat off, the bitch! (Again, Barbossa bloopers from AWE, off my keyboard, please.)

In all seriousness, though. She charged 'im wit' the duty of ferryin' souls from their death in this life ta the afterlife. After ten years was up, he could finally set foot on land 'n' be wit' her for one day 'fore returnin' ta 'is duties. But, being "in her nature" (read: BITCH) she stood 'im up. So, he showed the pirate lords how ta bind 'er in human form, 'n' cut out 'is heart. Which we can only assume hurt like an 18th-century mofo.

After that, he abandoned his duties. But eh, we can't really blame 'im, can we? Imagine this girl ye've loved fer ten years, 'n' finally bein' able ta go out wit' 'er. Then ye get to the pizza shop, 'n' she's nowhere in sight.

"Maybe she's runnin' late," ye figure. So ye wait fer 'er. 'N' wait. 'N' she don't show up fer the whole day. Soon ye're the last poor bugger sittin' in a booth, 'n' the shopkeep kicks ye out onta the unforgivin' streets.

Ta make it worse, ye gotta go back ta work t'morrow. It was yer only day off, 'n' ye work halfway 'cross the world. So ye can't even yell at 'er in person.

Wouldn't YOU carve out yer heart too?

Megan looked over what she had, and sighed. Great. All this talk about the sea, and now she had to go to the bathroom. "Just wonderful," she murmured, reaching down to unbuckle herself. "And there I was, about to make a reference to Cthulu."

She stood up, slipping her computer back in its case for a moment. She quickly tossed her hair back into a ponytail, and hadn't even finished doing so when the pilot came on over the intercom. "Attention, passengers," his voice echoed through the aisles, and she paused briefly to look up at the speaker. "We're hitting some unusually rough turbulence. It is strongly advised that you all fasten your seat-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the plane lurched. Not used to any kind of violent rocking, Megan didn't even have a fighting chance at keeping her balance. She tried to reach out for the seat in front of her, but she ended up tripping over her own two feet. At least she had a comparatively soft landing, falling on top of her luggage, but she also felt her head crack against the bottom of a seat.

Her scream was lost in the screams of everyone else, and she reached up to feel warm liquid seeping out of her head and down her face along with a stream of hot tears. "Oh please, God," she breathed, trying not to pass out, but she was already seeing gray spots across her vision. "God or Calypso or... or whoever the fuck's listening... I-I can't die..."

Her breath caught in her chest as her nose picked up the metallic scent of the blood oozing from the wound on the side of her head. The lights went out; she was dizzy and now she couldn't even cry for help because she couldn't talk.

A black curtain fell over her eyes, and she went limp. She could barely remember the last things she was thinking.

Oh my God. The plane's crashing. I'm gonna die.


DUN DUN DUN. DRAMA FOR YO' MAMA.

In all seriousness, though. What am I, a monster? The very first chapter and I left you with a cliffhanger! Will she live? Will she die? Is Calypso going to stop being a bitch?

... Err, that's a no on that last one, by the way. But as for the others, I shall not answer till next chapter!

Though... it'd REALLY be a bummer if me main character died, wouldn't it...?

Well! Hope you guys enjoyed. If you did, please leave me a nicely-worded review!

Thanks for reading, mateys!