fic: All the Myths are True [G] 3/? Torchwood/Abney Park crossover
Title: All the Myths are True
Author: A Lanart
Fandom: Abney Park/Torchwood
Pairing: None
Characters: Abney Park circa 2007 - Robert, Kristina, Magdalene, Nathaniel, Jean-Paul
Rating: PG for one swear
Warnings/Spoilers: crack!fic
Summary: Abney Park are a steampunk band with alter-egos as Airship Pirates. It just so happens that all the myths are true; this is the story of Captain Robert, and his merry band and how they acquired the Airship Ophelia from a certain top-secret government agency.
Disclaimer: None of this is mine except for the freaky plot bunny. I even nicked the title from Abney Park - it kind of seemed appropriate.
Part One
Part Two
~*~
Britain, sometime in the Iron Age
In the daylight, and as anchored to the ground as she was ever likely to be, the Ophelia looked even more impressive. What all of Robert’s carefully gleaned research had neglected to mention was that she was beautiful. He drank in the sight of her as she floated above them. Beautiful, and *theirs*. He and Kristina were sitting on the ground, a short distance away. She nudged him with an elbow and pointed to the rigging that hung around the ship.
“Robert, why does an airship need sails?”
“They aren’t sails, exactly.”
“They look like sails to me.”
“They’re *supposed* to look like sails. Their function is a little more... esoteric.”
“Esoteric? In what way?”
Robert grinned; he wasn’t sure what she was going to think of the answer.
“They’re moonlight collectors,” he said.
“Moonlight collectors.” Her expression said everything that her voice didn’t.
“Yeah. Kinda like solar panels, but different.”
There was no immediate reply, and Robert glanced down. Kristina was chewing thoughtfully at her lip.
“Seriously?” She asked.
“Told you it was an esoteric function. The people we... ah... acquired Ophelia from -Torchwood - had an elderly gentleman by the name of Doctor Calgori working for them. He designed the Ophelia and entirely by accident discovered how to make and use these moonlight collectors.”
“So what happened?”
“He fell; it was a very long way down. The thing is, he never told anyone the secret of how the collectors functioned, and so our gorgeous airship was grounded and kept in the dark.”
“So we didn’t exactly steal her, we *rescued* her!” Kristina said brightly.
“That’s how I like to think of it. We saved her from being confined to a dark, cold and damp cage, unable to fly. We gave her freedom instead.”
“So we’re not Airship Pirates at all, we’re Airship Liberationists.”
“I guess. As you know, I have my resources. I managed to unearth the lost secrets of Doctor Calgori for myself and here we are.” He gestured expansively at the uninhabited land around them, with Ophelia incongruously the focal point. There was a loud crash from the vicinity of the airship and Robert winced. “I’d best go see what the others are doing to our lovely lady, and then we need to have our first crew meeting.” He scrambled up and headed at a jog for the gently swinging rope ladder that was their only entry and exit point from the airship, glad that he’d ensured that they’d all had plenty of practice before they took the final step of breaking the Ophelia out of her confinement.
Robert was confident that the others would be happy with his plan; with the vortex manipulator he could ensure that they were never missing for more than a day or so from their lives in the 21st century but in the meantime they could live their dream. He would be careful that they didn’t spend too long away from home at any one time - it wouldn’t do to have them suddenly have their hair grow 3 inches in the course of 24 hours - but when they *were* away from home, they could do almost anything they wanted. If they were canny, they could even pick up the means to make themselves a bit of extra money back home without drawing attention to themselves, they were going to be Pirates after all. The only thing that remained for him to do was find a safe haven for Ophelia well away from the 20th century and the risk of being detected by Torchwood. He could get them back to Seattle the way he’d gotten them to 1920s London - with his vortex manipulator - and keep Ophelia hidden.
The meeting went even better than he’d expected. He knew he’d got them when Nathaniel started chuckling.
“Want to share that thought with us?” Robert asked.
“At least here we aren’t going to disturb the neighbours when we practise. Just think of the difference that could make to the next album!”
As the sound of laughter echoed round the bridge, Robert knew that they’d made the right decision.
~*~
Gradually, the pattern of their lives took shape; in the 21st century they held down jobs, looked after children and performed with the band, but every so often they would meet to ‘rehearse’ behind closed doors, and then they would become the Airship Pirates in truth instead of it being a persona as the outside world thought.
There were parties, raids and close calls, sumptuous fabrics, precious things and copious amounts of alcohol. They pulled off daring rescues, landed in trouble and caused havoc. Life was ridiculous, and dangerous and fun - but it was never, ever boring.
Robert found he enjoyed the double life more than anything else he’d ever experienced. It surpassed everything he’d been through while he was a Time Agent because he was doing it for himself and his friends. Oh, he remembered the precautions that had been drilled into him when he was still a wet-behind-the-ears cadet but he didn’t have the threat of what the Agency would do to him if he misbehaved hanging over his head. The one thing that was burned forever into his mind was what they did to people who didn’t follow their rules exactly and Robert didn’t want to lose *any* of his memories - it was what had tipped the balance in favour of him disappearing to a backwater like pre-interstellar earth rather than staying with the Agency. It was also why he kept his wrist device with its betraying vortex manipulator hidden when he was in the 21st century, except when travelling to and from the Ophelia. The only other precaution he always took was to never visit Britain after the formation of Torchwood in 1879 - now he had his freedom, he didn’t want it taken away and he didn’t trust Torchwood not to be upset about Ophelia even 80 plus years later, despite the fact that none of the people involved would still be alive.
~*~
South Africa 1870s
Jean-Paul dabbed at the cut on his head he’d received courtesy of an expertly wielded assegai.
“Will someone please remind me why I thought it was such a good idea to come to South Africa during the fucking Anglo-Zulu war?” He growled.
He was met with an uncomfortable silence, none of them had escaped completely unscathed, but Jean-Paul was their worst casualty. While he was fairly sure there wasn’t any major damage, head wounds bled like hell and hurt like the blazes. He winced as he pressed the wad of gauze to his head; he was *not* having a good day.
“Here, let me check,” Magdelene offered, stepping carefully out of the wreck of her petticoats. He consented with a brief nod, and let her approach, carefully lifting the gauze so she could inspect the damage. “Well the good news is that I don’t think you’re going to need stitches,” she said after examining the wound carefully.
“And the bad news?” Jean-Paul asked.
“I think it will take upwards of a week to heal properly. Sorry.”
Jean-Paul shrugged, trying to disturb his head as little as possible.
“Could be worse. Now if you don’t mind I’m going to see if I can persuade our intrepid Captain to get us the hell out of this time and take us to one where the residents aren’t as likely to want to throw sharp metal objects at us.”
“I’ll come with you - I can be very persuasive when I need to be - and I can patch you up on the way.”
Ten minutes later, Jean-Paul found the flash and shudder of the Ophelia skipping through time strangely reassuring. It was a signal that there would be time for them to recoup, and for him to reflect on whether he wanted to make the decision he was contemplating or not.
~*~
Seattle 2007
Judging by the glare on Robert’s face, Jean Paul guessed that he wasn’t too happy with the way the conversation was going.
“What do you mean, you’ve had enough?” Robert demanded.
Jean-Paul sighed. “Let’s just say that the last trip was an assegai too far, and leave it at that.”
“You knew travelling in the Ophelia wasn’t going to be safe and cosy. You were *happy* with that.”
“Yes, I knew.” They’d all known - Robert had made sure of that. “And yes, I was happy with that. Now I’m not, and much as it kills me to say this, I think I’m better getting out now - band and all. You can find another logistics officer, and I’m sure you won’t have trouble finding a bass player either. If you’re lucky they might even be the same person.”
“Jean-Paul...”
Jean-Paul reached out and squeezed Robert’s shoulder in an effort to try and communicate in more than just words.
“I mean it. I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I’ve realised I need to have a normal life back again. It’s been fun, Robert, but I really do need to leave.”
“If you truly feel like that, I guess you do... just... Don’t be a stranger, Ok?”
Jean-Paul smiled. “I won’t, we’ve been through too much for that.” He stepped back and threw an untidy salute in Robert’s direction. “Goodbye, Captain, and good luck. I’ll be seeing you around, you can count on that.”
With nothing left to say, Jean-Paul turned and walked away from his life as an airship pirate, knowing he’d miss it even though it was the right thing for him to do. It didn’t stop him from wondering who they would find to replace him.
Author: A Lanart
Fandom: Abney Park/Torchwood
Pairing: None
Characters: Abney Park circa 2007 - Robert, Kristina, Magdalene, Nathaniel, Jean-Paul
Rating: PG for one swear
Warnings/Spoilers: crack!fic
Summary: Abney Park are a steampunk band with alter-egos as Airship Pirates. It just so happens that all the myths are true; this is the story of Captain Robert, and his merry band and how they acquired the Airship Ophelia from a certain top-secret government agency.
Disclaimer: None of this is mine except for the freaky plot bunny. I even nicked the title from Abney Park - it kind of seemed appropriate.
Part One
Part Two
~*~
Britain, sometime in the Iron Age
In the daylight, and as anchored to the ground as she was ever likely to be, the Ophelia looked even more impressive. What all of Robert’s carefully gleaned research had neglected to mention was that she was beautiful. He drank in the sight of her as she floated above them. Beautiful, and *theirs*. He and Kristina were sitting on the ground, a short distance away. She nudged him with an elbow and pointed to the rigging that hung around the ship.
“Robert, why does an airship need sails?”
“They aren’t sails, exactly.”
“They look like sails to me.”
“They’re *supposed* to look like sails. Their function is a little more... esoteric.”
“Esoteric? In what way?”
Robert grinned; he wasn’t sure what she was going to think of the answer.
“They’re moonlight collectors,” he said.
“Moonlight collectors.” Her expression said everything that her voice didn’t.
“Yeah. Kinda like solar panels, but different.”
There was no immediate reply, and Robert glanced down. Kristina was chewing thoughtfully at her lip.
“Seriously?” She asked.
“Told you it was an esoteric function. The people we... ah... acquired Ophelia from -Torchwood - had an elderly gentleman by the name of Doctor Calgori working for them. He designed the Ophelia and entirely by accident discovered how to make and use these moonlight collectors.”
“So what happened?”
“He fell; it was a very long way down. The thing is, he never told anyone the secret of how the collectors functioned, and so our gorgeous airship was grounded and kept in the dark.”
“So we didn’t exactly steal her, we *rescued* her!” Kristina said brightly.
“That’s how I like to think of it. We saved her from being confined to a dark, cold and damp cage, unable to fly. We gave her freedom instead.”
“So we’re not Airship Pirates at all, we’re Airship Liberationists.”
“I guess. As you know, I have my resources. I managed to unearth the lost secrets of Doctor Calgori for myself and here we are.” He gestured expansively at the uninhabited land around them, with Ophelia incongruously the focal point. There was a loud crash from the vicinity of the airship and Robert winced. “I’d best go see what the others are doing to our lovely lady, and then we need to have our first crew meeting.” He scrambled up and headed at a jog for the gently swinging rope ladder that was their only entry and exit point from the airship, glad that he’d ensured that they’d all had plenty of practice before they took the final step of breaking the Ophelia out of her confinement.
Robert was confident that the others would be happy with his plan; with the vortex manipulator he could ensure that they were never missing for more than a day or so from their lives in the 21st century but in the meantime they could live their dream. He would be careful that they didn’t spend too long away from home at any one time - it wouldn’t do to have them suddenly have their hair grow 3 inches in the course of 24 hours - but when they *were* away from home, they could do almost anything they wanted. If they were canny, they could even pick up the means to make themselves a bit of extra money back home without drawing attention to themselves, they were going to be Pirates after all. The only thing that remained for him to do was find a safe haven for Ophelia well away from the 20th century and the risk of being detected by Torchwood. He could get them back to Seattle the way he’d gotten them to 1920s London - with his vortex manipulator - and keep Ophelia hidden.
The meeting went even better than he’d expected. He knew he’d got them when Nathaniel started chuckling.
“Want to share that thought with us?” Robert asked.
“At least here we aren’t going to disturb the neighbours when we practise. Just think of the difference that could make to the next album!”
As the sound of laughter echoed round the bridge, Robert knew that they’d made the right decision.
~*~
Gradually, the pattern of their lives took shape; in the 21st century they held down jobs, looked after children and performed with the band, but every so often they would meet to ‘rehearse’ behind closed doors, and then they would become the Airship Pirates in truth instead of it being a persona as the outside world thought.
There were parties, raids and close calls, sumptuous fabrics, precious things and copious amounts of alcohol. They pulled off daring rescues, landed in trouble and caused havoc. Life was ridiculous, and dangerous and fun - but it was never, ever boring.
Robert found he enjoyed the double life more than anything else he’d ever experienced. It surpassed everything he’d been through while he was a Time Agent because he was doing it for himself and his friends. Oh, he remembered the precautions that had been drilled into him when he was still a wet-behind-the-ears cadet but he didn’t have the threat of what the Agency would do to him if he misbehaved hanging over his head. The one thing that was burned forever into his mind was what they did to people who didn’t follow their rules exactly and Robert didn’t want to lose *any* of his memories - it was what had tipped the balance in favour of him disappearing to a backwater like pre-interstellar earth rather than staying with the Agency. It was also why he kept his wrist device with its betraying vortex manipulator hidden when he was in the 21st century, except when travelling to and from the Ophelia. The only other precaution he always took was to never visit Britain after the formation of Torchwood in 1879 - now he had his freedom, he didn’t want it taken away and he didn’t trust Torchwood not to be upset about Ophelia even 80 plus years later, despite the fact that none of the people involved would still be alive.
~*~
South Africa 1870s
Jean-Paul dabbed at the cut on his head he’d received courtesy of an expertly wielded assegai.
“Will someone please remind me why I thought it was such a good idea to come to South Africa during the fucking Anglo-Zulu war?” He growled.
He was met with an uncomfortable silence, none of them had escaped completely unscathed, but Jean-Paul was their worst casualty. While he was fairly sure there wasn’t any major damage, head wounds bled like hell and hurt like the blazes. He winced as he pressed the wad of gauze to his head; he was *not* having a good day.
“Here, let me check,” Magdelene offered, stepping carefully out of the wreck of her petticoats. He consented with a brief nod, and let her approach, carefully lifting the gauze so she could inspect the damage. “Well the good news is that I don’t think you’re going to need stitches,” she said after examining the wound carefully.
“And the bad news?” Jean-Paul asked.
“I think it will take upwards of a week to heal properly. Sorry.”
Jean-Paul shrugged, trying to disturb his head as little as possible.
“Could be worse. Now if you don’t mind I’m going to see if I can persuade our intrepid Captain to get us the hell out of this time and take us to one where the residents aren’t as likely to want to throw sharp metal objects at us.”
“I’ll come with you - I can be very persuasive when I need to be - and I can patch you up on the way.”
Ten minutes later, Jean-Paul found the flash and shudder of the Ophelia skipping through time strangely reassuring. It was a signal that there would be time for them to recoup, and for him to reflect on whether he wanted to make the decision he was contemplating or not.
~*~
Seattle 2007
Judging by the glare on Robert’s face, Jean Paul guessed that he wasn’t too happy with the way the conversation was going.
“What do you mean, you’ve had enough?” Robert demanded.
Jean-Paul sighed. “Let’s just say that the last trip was an assegai too far, and leave it at that.”
“You knew travelling in the Ophelia wasn’t going to be safe and cosy. You were *happy* with that.”
“Yes, I knew.” They’d all known - Robert had made sure of that. “And yes, I was happy with that. Now I’m not, and much as it kills me to say this, I think I’m better getting out now - band and all. You can find another logistics officer, and I’m sure you won’t have trouble finding a bass player either. If you’re lucky they might even be the same person.”
“Jean-Paul...”
Jean-Paul reached out and squeezed Robert’s shoulder in an effort to try and communicate in more than just words.
“I mean it. I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I’ve realised I need to have a normal life back again. It’s been fun, Robert, but I really do need to leave.”
“If you truly feel like that, I guess you do... just... Don’t be a stranger, Ok?”
Jean-Paul smiled. “I won’t, we’ve been through too much for that.” He stepped back and threw an untidy salute in Robert’s direction. “Goodbye, Captain, and good luck. I’ll be seeing you around, you can count on that.”
With nothing left to say, Jean-Paul turned and walked away from his life as an airship pirate, knowing he’d miss it even though it was the right thing for him to do. It didn’t stop him from wondering who they would find to replace him.