Once, there was an island.... // MPHFPC one shots, imagines, and misc !

Rotting is Poison, Revival is Antidote { OC }

" Who are you?"
The voice made The Captain jump awake from their daze outside a dreary pub. A girl stood in front of them, wearing a pale blue dress with white accents and black flats. Her face had an old look to it, knowledge beyond her physical years brewing deep in her eyes.
" Ah. Helo, fy enw i yw Niko, ac mea'n ymddangos fy mod ar goll iawn." They stretched as they spoke, bringing their arms high above their head. Their welsh was rusty, yes, and felt unnatural as ever in their mouth, but the girl seemed unbothered. 
" Welsh." The girl said. " Do you speak any english?"
The Captain sighed, any response to make them seem legit leaving their mind, then said " Unfortunately. Honestly, wish I didn't. Wouldn't have to deal with this conversation."
" Show me your eyes."
" I'm not a white eye."
" They're called wights. Show me your eyes."
Niko made a show of pulling their eyes wide open, staring at the blonde girl as irritatingly as they could. She grimaced, cracked her knuckles, then turned. " Follow me. The bird knows you're here."
" Oh, delightful. I do love birds."

The blue clad girl led them to a large house hidden deep in the woods, built of angels and chimneys. The lawn was overflowing with gardens, large vines creeping up old walls and blurring the wooden lines between each plot. A dark skinned girl leaned over one of the countless plants, offering a singular raised hand towards The Captains bitter escort. The blue girl nodded at her, then herded the Captain up freshly painted steps and into a sitting room. They hardly had time to see any of the house, though they could make out potted plants and an expansive dining room.
" Sit." The girl ordered, and Niko did so with a bored huff. So much for the fun answer. " The bird will be with you in a minute. Do. Not. Move." Then she swept out of the room in a blur of sky blue and burning anger, barely beneath the surface. 
They moved, standing and stretching again. Death left the muscles terribly sore, the joints cramped, so every time they moved, The Captain seemed to crack. It was extremely irritating. After a moment, an older woman dressed in all black entered the room, her features solemn in comparison to the Captains overly expressive nature. 
She sat halfway across the room, gesturing for Niko to do the same. They continued to stand.
" So." The bird said, with little humor in her tone. " Who are you?"
" Do you start every conversation in such a positively bland way?" 
The bird's eyes narrowed, and they sighed.
" Captain Nikolai Caspian Thorne, at your humble service, though I truly serve no one but myself and my varied means of pleasure." They dipped into a low bow, one hand tucked behind their back in a dramatic manner. 
" The Revived." The bird said.
" So it would seem. That is a terrible name, though, isn't it? I expected better from you birds." 
" It's not my decision to make." 
" I mean, I could at least be known by Captain. That makes far more sense, considering."
The bird raised an eyebrow. " Considering what?"
Niko startled, then scoffed. " I was a pirate captain, after all. I bet you anything I'm older than you are."
" I'm not here to debate ages with you.... Captain. Why are you here?"
" Ah. Better question, where exactly am I? I assumed Wales but being wrong is a terrible habit of mine." 
" You're on Cairnholm, off the southern coast of Wales. September the third, 1940. I'm the ymbryne of this loop, Miss. Alma Peregrine." 
The Captain studied the ymbryne, muffling their unnecessary bird comments. She had dark hair pulled into a low, neat bun, dark eyes, and a cold expression even they couldn't read. Her clothes were eerily Victorian, all black and a shocking difference compared to her choice of decor. With the surplus on plants and all.
" Ah. Wales. Never liked Wales very much."
The bird went to say something, then paused and seemed to rethink her decision. " Will you be joining us for dinner, Captain Nikolai?"
" Niko, please. Nikolai is for formal occasions and berating reasons only. And if there's a place at your table, I'll take it without complaint. With the full intention of returning it, though, no worries."

Dinner was... awkward.
The blue clad girl from before was named Emma, and her... welcoming personality vastly went against the flames that burst to life in her palms. For someone so intent on coming off as cold, she sure had a fiery way of introducing herself. A tall, curly haired girl wearing a boxy dress was named Bronwyn, an invisible boy named Millard, and a little girl with long brown hair that seemed to defy gravity all regarded the Captain with careful interest. Two blond boys were bent on pretending they didn't exist, though, with a younger girl with golden ringlets sat uncomfortably between them. A boy surrounded by bees and a girl with wild hair, the same from the garden, hardly even noticed there was someone strange at their table, too enveloped in their conversation to pay attention. 
" Captain Thorne," Miss. Peregrine eventually interrupted, her hands once again folded neatly in her lap. They were finding her to be rather rigid. " Care to tell your story?"
A heavy silence settled over the table, and they froze.
" Ah... we'd be here forever if I started talking."
" We have the time. Please, from the beginning." 
Niko leaned back in their chair. " Well... I was born in 1640. If my watch is correct, that makes me just shy of 372, give or take a couple months."
One of the blond boys choked on his water. " 1640? Christ."
" I'm old, I know, you hardly have to repeat it. Ran away from home when I was 11- Providence is a dreadful place, after all- wormed my way onto a pirate ship. I had that entire thing under my boot by the time I was 15, hence the Captain title, and then I died."
" Died?" The blond boy spoke again, and his ymbryne gave him a warning look.
" With a capital D, my seemingly scottish friend. Obviously, it didn't stick. You can imagine how confused those poor workers were when a very annoyed teenager popped out of one of the boxes they were moving. I think I gave one of those poor men a heart attack, looking back on it. Then I boarded another ship and took over that one too. You'd think I'd get more credit, considering it was the early Golden Age of Piracy, but nope. Somebody went through a great effort to get rid of every single mention of my name. It's terribly irritating, and I'm trying to hunt him down."
" Who is it?" Millard asked. He seemed far more interested than anyone else.
Nikolai paused, searching their memories. A second downside of death. Sometimes things took a while to fall back in place. " Jack, I believe. Legally, at least. Something with a B for a surname. Poor bastard, honestly."
Miss. Peregrine went stark white.
" Still never met the man, so I'm not quite sure what the point of actually going back in time- plenty of loops head that far back, surprisingly. A concerning amount, even- just to make sure nobody got to hear how awe inspiring I was. Must've killed him at some point or something." 
" The dead aren't supposed to bounce back like you do. No way that someone with the same ability is after you." The blond boy said. Enoch, his name was, judging by how many people whispered for him to shut up. 
" You'd be surprised. Peculiarities aren't nearly as rare as you think. Personally, I think of lot of the inspiration for deities came from peculiar folk. Zeus from a wind bender or whatever they like to call themselves, Odin from a prophet, perhaps, on and on. It's rather interesting."
" A... wind bender?" Millard, this time, his food untouched. 
" Yeah. There's an entire order of them in Russia. They aren't very fond of me, to say the least. Especially their leader, Zoya... beautiful girl. Absolutely terrifying."
" Nikolai." Miss. Peregrine said, shocking them into sitting upright. How long had it been since someone had used a motherly tone with them? " Stay on topic, please."
" Ah. Yeah, that. So... most of it is a blur. I've jumped in and out of courts, hung out at important events, blackmailed a whole list of politicians. It's a lot of fun, being a zombie, yknow. Sick of the biting stereotype, though, only rotted folks have any interest in biting. I spent a lot of time traveling. You haven't lived till you see the mountains at the Jötunheimr loop, or had the chance to ride one of the dragons that live there."
" Dragons are real?" The invisible boy sputtered. 
" They aren't what you'd expect. Large, winged komodo dragons, basically, not much more than that. Nasty company, they are. But that's beside the point. Most recently, I went out to one of those wights. Bastard got the jump on me, the pure audacity of the man."
" Where?" Miss. Peregrine asked.
" New York. Modern times, then, mind you, so I can promise I didn't drag the idiot through limbo with me. If I did, there'd be a skeleton hanging on my coat. I rather like it without human bones, though. 1998, as well. You're fine, no worries."
The ymbryne made a sound that screamed how she wasn't thoroughly convinced, then returned to her dinner. 
" How many times have you died? You treat it so... blandly." The other blond boy asked, dressed to the nines at a time like this.
" Ah... I'd consider that rude if I had a care in the world." The Captain tugged up their sleeve, revealing a long list of tally marks up their forearm. " Too many times, if I'm honest. I'm terribly accident prone."
His eyes widened, and Nikolai took that as a cue to bring their sleeve down again.
And then the sea of questions started. It's scary how fast a table of peculiar children can launch into an interrogation, and their ymbryne kept eating as if it was a completely normal occurrence. 
The strange and the unusual always welcomed the dead. Maybe it was because everyone at that table was dead, too, in some way or another.

Cheers to the gruesome afterlife and to those who haven't realized they're living it yet.

...I think that I might be beautiful.