Thread: The Only Rules That Matter:  Afterlife (TheCorsair, Madam Mim)

All around her was beautiful and bright, taking the form of a meadow a few miles outside of Dover where she'd played with her children. She could even hear the distant surf and there were so many faces she knew. Her parents and her brothers were there, Ion and even Laoch, and Brigid looking bright and healthy, not wan and sickly as she had before she'd passed in childbirth. There was Jack, whole rather than gutshot at 43 bleeding onto the deck of his ship. There was a young woman with dark hair and leaf green eyes, solemn and quiet as she had been in life and with a smile so like her father's Jenny instinctually knew who she was though she was older now. Anne! She began to cry as she embraced her daughter and the rest of her family embraced her. Oh my Anne! But... she sniffled, but where's Daddy? I told you I'd ask Saint Peter to let him in, Anne said with a queer combination of mischief and sadness, but he's got some extra duty to do first. Extra duty? For how long? What...? Anne shrugged. Wouldn't say. Jenny looked back the way she'd come--did this place have direction?--then back to her family. But he said...I... She faltered when they smiled but looked a little crestfallen. Go on then lass, Michael said, giving her a gentle push. There was sadness in the corner of her eyes. We'll still be here when you get back. What? But Da, I wanna stay here with you, Jenny argued, though her heart wasn't exactly in it. We know ya do sweetheart, Mary assured her, pulling her into another hug. But you won't be truly happy til yer man's here, so you won't truly belong. Go on, Jack chimed in. Bastard's run out on us enough and it's always been your job to drag him back home, hasn't it? So go on! He don't get a pass on this one just coz he's dead. After many tears of joy and sorrow, many hugs and promises of returning soon, Jenny turned and walked until she was on the beach. Then she walked into the surf. She was in a boat. Jenny wasn't entirely certain how, but she found herself in a dinghy in the dark, floating along with so many other souls lost at sea. The last thing she remembered was hitting the water and losing grip of her husband's hand. Was this...was it Hell? Purgatory? Was it her punishment for technically committing suicide? If it was, then where was John? She looked around, calling for him out in the dark. Her voice didn't echo. Something bumped alongside her dinghy. When she looked over the side Jenny saw that it was an enormous sea turtle with an oddly colored shell. The different muted colors on its back reminded her strongly of Scraps for some reason. Poor Scraps had faithfully served little Sparrows for twenty years before he finally fell apart beyond repair. They'd put his patches and what bits of his stuffing they could find onto a little raft of twigs and floated him out to sea by way of a burial befitting a sea turtle. Even though sea turtles weren't real, they were all certain that if they were that was what Scraps would have wanted. The giant turtle bumped her boat again and Jenny took the hint. Looking around to make sure no one was watching--no one was, all their eyes were fixed straight ahead--she clambered overboard and into the water with a splash that was smaller than it should have been then wrapped her arms as best she could around the turtle's shell, gripping the edges. Cap'n! Sea turtle off the port bow! Sea turtle ? Will frowned and took several long strides to the side of the ship, looking overboard. What's a sea turtle doing all the way out h--oh no. No this isn't...what...? No don't let her up! He held out a hand to stop one of the crew from lowering a rope. She's not supposed to be here and neither is that turtle! William Turner! Jenny said sternly. She'd met him a few times throughout his career as a ferryman of souls and she found she still had the pull to make him wince when she used her mom voice. It didn't matter that they didn't lower a rope she found one and started climbing after leaving Scraps with a word of thanks. Once she'd hauled herself over the side, dripping and exhausted, she clambered to her feet and proceeded to poke her husband in the chest. And you! What did I say? What did I just say? Body and soul didn't I? Try to ditch me again will you...! But Jenny's angry ranting slowly came to a standstill when she noticed her hands. They weren't wrinkled or spotted with age, but young and smooth. Her back didn't hurt now as it had for years and a great deal of bulk seemed to have disappeared. She even had all her original teeth back! And John...he was young! Fifty or more years had fallen away from them both so that they looked as though they could have been no more than twenty-five or twenty-six. She looked down at herself then back at her husband several times before laughing. It's a miracle!