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Briny waters moved placid across the Brawltopian sea, clear skies mirrored upon near-flat surfaces. The miles-long journey from ocean to ocean proceeded smooth, save for the odd ship the waves would occasionally bump into. Even then, no real crash occurred; the seafoam would gently brush against keels, cradling sailors as they travelled.
This was the reality pirate captain Darryl found himself in. Lulled into a blissful slumber, he laid in his hammock like a baby in its crib: hardly moving, lightly snoring, fully lost in the marvelous world of dreams.
But this story isn't about Darryl. It's about his crewmate Tick.
That peaceful afternoon, the young robot was scurrying up and down the deck with the energy of a puppy chasing its playful owner. The main difference being that young canines usually aren't armed (literally) with cannons, and therefore can't practice their aiming skills as they run around in circles. Tick on the other hand, he was having a blast firing mines towards clusters of old barrels he'd set up for the occasion. His favorite part was the detonation of said mines, which went up in smoke and ashes with such a wholesome harmony of BOOMs. And those barrels already came with broken hoops and termite damage anyway, meaning he didn't have to destroy anything of value for the adrenaline to come rushing!
Stubby wooden legs ceaselessly tapped against the floorboards. Exploding barrels nearly drowned out his very thoughts, in a rhythm like a three-beat pulse.
Thud, click, BOOM, Thud, click, BOOM, Thud, click, BOOM…
Clank. The familiar pattern was broken by a noise too metallic to have come from a barrel. Click. Tick stopped dead in his tracks, catching a brief glance of iron glinting under the sunlight. Then, a blast far louder than any of the previous; and debris of unidentifiable material rained down the newly-empty spot.
With a knot right in the middle of his stomach, the young automaton cautiously stepped close to where the object once stood. Only fragments survived: metal bits, a few golden buttons, but mainly wooden scraps, some of which had a crimson 'X' painted over.
Wait.
–“Ahooyy theere, Tick-Tock~!”– A raspy cacophony of slurred words resounded from the opposite end of the ship. Tick peered over his shoulder, watching as a pink-haired figure emerged from below deck. –“Ya 'aight? Ah've heard a 'Boom'…”– She approached slow but constant, stumbling like it was her first time walking on a pair of human feet.
Tick rushed in front of his crewmate. –“Kvmmb! Fs b-bvzs, R'n urmv!”– He lied, shielding her view with his thick round body. Closing in on his crewmate, the robot noticed her mouth smelling awfully sweet, like she'd gargled vanilla-flavored mouthwash along with a hefty dose of brown sugar. Penny always smelled like that after meeting with Morgan. Tick had no idea who that was, but as Darryl would always say: “That lass can't resist the call of a good Captain Morgan”.
–“Fine ya say, uh?”– She questioned, tilting her head so she could see beyond him. Her attempts were immediately countered by Tick also shifting around the block her vision, shielding her from the sight of still-fuming scraps. After a few seconds of this back-and-forth, she grew annoyed. –“Then why won't ya just-”– In an unexpectedly quick move, Penny shoved him away and dashed forward before he could react.
–“Kvmmb! Dzrg-”– But she paid him no mind. The lass walked a few steps before freezing in place. Tick slowly approached her, eventually reaching her side. He fought guilt and shame to peek a glance at her face: the agony in her twisted features was beaten only by the horror in her eye.
–“LENNY!”– She cried, sprinting to the pile of rubble she once called a mortar. Tick scurried towards her, watching the girl as she dropped to her knees, picked up wood fragments, tried —in vain— to stick them back like puzzle pieces. Listening as she sobbed 'No, no, no, fuck' over and over like a mantra.
Just as he reached her side, Penny whipped her head with an almost-audible snap. –“Tick, ya moron!”– She had a river of eyeliner streaming down each cheek, face stained black as soot. –“Look at what ya've done! Ah've been working on Lenny for, I dunno, weeks-”– The next 5 or so seconds of her scolding were little more than inarticulate blubbering not even Tick himself could translate.
The robot tried to mutter something he hoped would soothe the lass, but was cut short by her latching onto his wrist. –“Imma punish yar ass good!”–
Penny's grip stayed iron as she dragged him across the deck and down the hatch leading below. Unable to pull away, Tick accepted his fate.
Next thing the automaton knew, he was strapped to a chair big enough to support his giant metal rear. Penny was nowhere to be seen; she'd ran off to somewhere else after tying him up. Thick ropes bound his body and arms, so tight that all he could see was a chalkboard placed in front of him.
All the world's darkest interrogatives ran through Tick's head. What would be of him? Was Penny gonna bring something when she came back? A weapon, perhaps? Or what if she told the captain, what was he going to do? Maroon him? Feed him to the sharks? Forbid him from having dessert ever again?
–“Hey there matey!”– Penny exclaimed as she came into view, grinning like a schoolgirl about to murder somebody. Her still-puffy eye wasn't teary anymore, and her eyeliner had since dried into a trail of black paste on each cheek. Such a sharp contrast to Tick himself, whose own sight had now moistened into blurriness. Through tears he witnessed the human lift a cloth up to his face, then wipe his eyes until he could have a clear look at her deranged expression.
–“Ready for the punishment?”–
Tick tried to voice a 'no', but couldn't properly bring himself to it.
–“I think I'll take that as a 'yes'.”– Penny grinned.
The lass dropped a hand into the pocket of her jeans. It resurfaced a second later, with a paper-thin rectangle held between two fingers. She held it to the robot's face. –“Tell me, what do ya see?”–
Tick's robotic pupils focused on the item, which turned out to be a photograph of the local graveyard. He saw gravestones, bunches of flowers, more gravestones, and even more gravestones.
–“Uhm, tizevhglmvh?”–
–“Close enough,"– Penny replied, –“But not quite."– She brought a finger to the edge of the picture. A tiny stone building, not unlike a shed with decorative pillars, stood solemn in the background. –“What is this, Tick?”–
The robot mumbled unintelligibly as he tried to remember the word for that type of construction. A place where dead people are buried in…
–“Glny!”–
–“That's right, it's a tomb!”– Penny exclaimed, emphasizing the answer for whatever reason. She stepped back, spun around, and pocketed the photo, trading it for a piece of chalk she then fished out. The stick dragging soft against the board accentuated unseen lines as they were traced, mixing with the sound of Penny’s low cackling. When she finally slid to the side, Tick discovered what she'd written: "Tomb".
–“And tell me,”– The hand holding the chalk moved from Penny's side to her lower stomach, over her golden buckle. –“What do I have here?”–
–“Uh, yfxpov?”–
–“No, not the buckle. It's a part o' me body.”–
–“Yvoob?”–
–“No, not the belly.”–
–“Gfnnb?”–
–“Think harder,"– She encouraged, –“It's inside, a part of me guts.”–
–“Wlvh ullw vmw fk gsviv?”–
–“No, but if ya need a hint…”– She replied, blushing for a moment as she thought about a way to state the organ's function without compromising the fic’s G-rating. –“It’s where babes come from.”–
Tick exhaled a murmur of sudden realization, but didn't get to answer as Penny turned back again with a cackle. A few seconds later she was back staring at him, the word 'Womb' scribbled just below ‘Tomb’. –“An' tell me Tick, how do ya pronounce this?”–
–“Dlln.”–
–“That's right, 'woom'.”–
The human stepped closer to pinch his cheek.
–“Ya're one smart pirate, ain't ya Tick-Tock?”– She cackled, rubbing her fingertips on the metal like it could be squeezed as easily as flesh. –“Now, if ya excuse me…”–
With speed and dexterity a drunk shouldn’t have, Penny stuck her hand into the robot's mechanic wrist. It reemerged holding a mine, inactive yet ready to explode at the turning of the key on top.
–“Now, riddle me this.”– She began with a grin. –“What do ya call a thingy that blows up, just like this one?”–
Tick paused for a moment, then beamed once the dots were connected. –“Ylln!”–
Penny's shit-eating grin intensified as she wrote 'bomb' on the chalkboard, below the other two words. –“No, silly. It's not 'boom'. It's 'bom', with an open 'O'.”–
Equally wide-open were Tick’s eyes as the girl slowly, almost painfully, pointed at the first word on the board. –“Toom…”– She continued after a brief pause. –“Woom…”– And then the final blow. –“Bom."–
Tick blinked, speechless and unmoving. The processors making up his brain studied the facts as they sank in, already known yet only now consciously pondered.
If ‘tomb’ is ‘toom’, and ‘womb’ is ‘woom’, then ‘bomb’ should be ‘boom’.
But it wasn’t.
A bead of oil slipped from underneath his eye. Then another, and another, until his tears came rushing down in streams as black as Penny’s ruined make-up.
–“ML! ML! M-MLLL!”– Tick lamented between sobs, like his 'No's could bend the rules of English grammar. The automaton no longer cared about Penny’s presence, how she was still there to witness his pathetic bawling; all that mattered in the moment was the unfairness of this cruel language, its making of promises destined to remain unfulfilled.
His weeping hushed the ‘bye-bye’ Penny muttered as she left him with his sorrows below deck, until Captain Darryl’s eventual awakening, when he would find his crewmate still teary-eyed and heartbroken.