Chapter Text
The crew of the starship Aurora—the Mechanisms—weren't exactly known for their manners, but they did always try to conform to the customs of whatever planet or moon or asteroid or whatever they'd ended up on. Most of the time. Sometimes.
Okay, they only did it when they were all in the mood. Can you blame them? Planetary customs were hard to remember when you've been-- well, everywhere! Especially when you considered the fact that making eye contact was considered romantic (sometimes sexual) in places like Starlyn, but an act of terrorism in Mesozonia! Too damn hard to keep track of.
Anyway. They did attempt to keep up with customs when they felt like it, and the Mechanisms were all generally in a more "willing to deal with people and their weird ideas of normalcy"-mood when they were performing. Because of this, they'd taken to interacting with their audience after performances on Earth. After all, there was a whole space in front of that stage, divided from the audience by a metal railing, for that very purpose! Why not use it?
"I swear, you guys get better with every performance!" One person—a young woman with dark skin and a t-shirt that said 'What The Ghost?'—cheered after one particular show. "And I'm so glad you played 'Twisted Threads,' it's always been one of my favorites."
"Well, you know we aim to make people happy," Brian responded cheerfully, though his sentence was meant to be sarcastic.
Thankfully, the woman seemed to pick up on the sarcasm, and she grinned. "I'm sure Jonny would say the same!"
"Hell no, I wouldn't!" Jonny jumped in. The audience member he'd just been talking to had left, so he felt free to join Brian's conversation. "Any happiness you gain from our performances is entirely coincidental."
"The fact that you hear us at all is coincidental, too," Brian added, deciding to switch up and go with it. "We're just playing for the room. The fact that you've paid to be in said room and also can hear is just happenstance."
"Exactly." Jonny nodded emphatically. Of course, this was all just a joke; the Mechanisms did play mostly for their own enjoyment, but they also preferred to play when other people could enjoy the music.
The young woman laughed at this. "Oh, totally!"
And then her attention turned to Ashes, and she moved on to go talk to them instead.
Jonny, in the lull between interactions, allowed himself a moment to watch his fellow crew members. Marius, Ivy, Raphaella, and a group of audience members were having what looked to be a friendly argument. Nastya, exhausted, was leaning on the Toy Soldier, who was generously listening to an audience member's passionate speech about the myth of Actaeon, and how great a song 'Actaea and Lyssa' was despite being so different from the myth. Meanwhile, Tim was also watching the other crew members, but from a distance; he'd skipped out on talking to the audience tonight, seemingly because that night's performance of 'Gunpowder Tim vs. The Moon Kaiser' had given him one too many unpleasant flashbacks.
He and Jonny made eye contact for a second, and Tim sneered. Jonny hoped that was a promise for later violence—maybe a fun little gunfight once they were back on the Aurora—and not just a face he made because he could. But knowing Tim, it could really be either one.
Jonny would've given some snarky, surely violence-inducing response if a voice hadn't called out to him.
"Well, if it isn't First Mate d'Ville!"
"That's 'Captain d'Ville' to you," Jonny snapped as he turned back around to face the audience, and he found two young men in front of him. One of them, an admittedly attractive man wearing an unattractive Hawaiian shirt, had clearly been the one to call out—he was grinning widely and looking right at Jonny—and the other, a cuter guy wearing a jumper, had... said almost the same thing as Jonny?
"That's 'Captain d'Ville,' you know!" He'd said to his friend, then turned and awkwardly smiled at Jonny, having seemingly realized the same thing Jonny had.
Jonny wrinkled his nose at the cute guy. "Are you mocking me?" Almost nobody ever took his side on the captain/first mate debate, and that mixed with the awkward smile gave him the idea that this guy was making a failed attempt to get on his nerves.
"No! No, no, no!" The cute guy frantically shook his head and both of his hands, anxious to deny the accusation. "I just-- well, you're always saying you're the captain, and since the old captain's dead, I figured you're probably the new one, especially since you were the first to be mechanized, and that the whole 'first mate' thing is probably a joke, and Tim—my friend, this guy, not Gunpowder Tim—should really know better!"
Jonny's irritation with him wore away as he kept talking, replaced instead with amusement. In reality, the whole captain/first mate debate was a running inside joke within the crew: Jonny was and always had been the first mate, and he knew that. The fact that this guy thought it was the other way around was honestly just funny.
And, well. It'd been a while since he'd properly messed with anybody, and this nervous-ass was a perfect candidate.
Jonny slowly looked the cute guy up and down, as flirty as possible, and leaned forward on the railing that divided the audience from the performers. "And what's your name, First Mate?"
The cute guy gawked, clearly not having expected that response. He looked to his friend, not-Gunpowder Tim, in a silent plea for help, and Lesser Tim responded with a widened grin and a nod at Jonny.
The cute guy looked back at Jonny and stuck out a hand, an invitation for a handshake. "Martin Blackwood, sir-- or, uh, Captain d'Ville? Just Captain? Uhm, Sir Captain d'Ville?"
"Just Jonny." Jonny grabbed Martin's arm in a forearm handshake, and Martin seemed startled and instinctively pulled back for a second before settling. He didn't grab Jonny's arm back, though; probably nervous about disrespect, or something.
Jonny loosened his grip and, keeping in contact, pulled his arm back until he was holding Martin's hand in a normal handshake. "I trust you'll be at our performance this weekend, First Mate Blackwood?"
Martin just stared in shock—like, literally, it was as if he were going into shock—before Lesser Tim nudged him, and he came to once more, unconsciously tightening his hold on Jonny's hand. "Yes! Yes, I will be; I've already bought my ticket, actually."
"That's good to hear." Jonny slid his gaze over to Lesser Tim, and looked him up and down, much more disinterested this time. When he spoke again, his tone was dry and apathetic. "I suppose you'll be there, too?"
Lesser Tim played at an offended response, though the glimmer in his eyes made it clear that he was having fun. "For your information, yes, I will be there! Can't let Mart-o be lonely, after all! That'd be a crime!"
"Oh, trust me, he won't be lonely." Jonny winked at Martin as he spoke, and Lesser Tim burst out laughing.
"And how do you feel about that, Mart-o?" Lesser Tim asked once his guffaws died down to giggles.
Martin just let out a nervous, breathy laugh. He seemed to notice then that he and Jonny were still holding hands, and he instantly let go.
"We'd, uh, we'd better get going. Got work in the morning, and all." Martin looked everywhere but at Jonny, clearly flustered.
Jonny stood up straight, away from the railing. "I'm so glad I'm an immortal fucking space pirate and don't have an actual job," he lamented.
"Must be nice." Lesser Tim playfully rolled his eyes.
"In any case," Jonny started, leaning in slightly towards Martin, "I'll see you this weekend, First Mate."
Jonny turned and started walking to the other side of the railing, where the Toy Soldier had started its own speech about 'Actaea and Lyssa.'
Behind him, he could hear Lesser Tim frantically whisper something to Martin, who then called out. "I'll, uh, see you in yo-- in your dreams! Jonny!"
Jonny stopped and looked back with a wolfish grin. "I'm counting on it."
He turned back around before he could see Martin's reaction, and finished his walk over to the Toy Soldier and Nastya. He, in an act of uncharacteristic care, transferred his exhausted sister-in-all-but-blood off the Toy Soldier and onto him.
"Jonny," Nastya grumbled as she held onto his shoulder for support, "were you torturing that poor man?"
Ha! He hadn't realized she'd been watching. "If you call flirting torture, then yes."
"I do," Nastya asserted. "The only kind of love that isn't torture is that between a woman and a robot."
"Careful, Nastya, you almost sound like a dread homophobe."
"No, just a... a person-phobe."
"Anthrophobe," Jonny suggested, grinning.
"I'm not scared of people." Nastya glared. "I just don't approve of them."
"A misanthrope," Tim (Gunpowder/Greater, not Martin's friend) suggested, having apparently walked over while Jonny wasn't looking.
"Yeah, that," Nastya agreed with a yawn. "I'm a misanthrope, and you were definitely torturing that man."
"Careful, Nastya, don't say my secret too loudly. I don't know what I'd do if people found out I enjoy torturing people."
Tim snorted. "Really, Jonny, what were you doing to that poor man?"
"Just having a little fun!" Jonny grinned. When Tim fixed him with an unamused look, he went on. "Oh, come on, we all know you've had your fair share of flirting with random mortal people! Why can't I?"
"Because you're more likely to forget that they're not immortal and accidentally kill them forever than just have an actual one-night stand."
"Oh, please! That was one time!"
"If you two are quite done," Ashes interrupted, and Jonny realized most of the audience had left by then, "it's about time to head back to the Aurora."
"Yes, please," Nastya mumbled, always honest in her exhaustion. "I miss her."
"Feel free to continue your fight once we're back on, but until then, act civil," Ashes continued. "We don't need any more humans trying to arrest us for aggravated assault. Jonny."
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, but stopped arguing with Tim anyway as they all headed back to the starship.