Enter Morgana

UNFINISHED WORK!

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The sky was black, and Morgana was the only one aboard her ship as it sailed calmly out of the harbor, gliding through the water soundlessly and gracefully. Her crew would curse her later for taking the Dagger’s Deep out for a joyride while they were in town, getting drunk out of their minds and seducing cheap woman, but she didn’t care. It was her ship, and if she wanted to take her ship out, she would, and nobody would argue if they wanted to live a long life. Morgan may have been small, standing only just above five feet, but she was tougher than she looked, and nobody knew it better than her crew. She was a fair Captain, but she wasn’t afraid to use the weapons that she carried on her hip, and she could most definitely hold her own in a bar fight.
Morgan was the shortest member of her crew, as well as the only girl, and she was an odd looking one at that. Her purple hair and eyes were her most distinguishing feature, given to her a few years prior when a gypsy cursed her after a short verbal dispute. While she missed her natural looks, she’d become accustomed to looking this way, and hardly allowed herself to notice it anymore. The most fierce pirate to ever sail the Spanish seas, she was also the youngest, at only twenty-one years of age. But in 1750, she was a successful, grown adult, even if her career of choice did involve theft.
Standing at the wheel of her ship, she allowed the calm lull of the sea to rock her into a trance, smiling as the gentle spray welcomed her home.
The violent shaking of the ship dragged Morgan out of her dream world, pitching her forward onto the deck. She cursed loudly, and when the jerking continued, she quickly grabbed onto the wheel for dear life. The wind blew her hair about her face, and she was at a complete loss for what to do. The tossing didn’t feel like any storm she’d ever fought through, but she didn’t know how else to explain the way her ship was being thrown about, as if it were a toy boat instead of a pirate ship.
Her knuckles were white as she gripped the wheel, the rest of her body being jerked about like a rag doll. She screamed again, but the noise of the air moving around her drowned her cries.
And then she was falling, her stomach rising in her chest and her heart leaping to her throat. She clutched the wheel, but her ship was falling with her, cutting through the air, a dead weight. She wanted to scream, wanted to vomit, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything past holding on as tight as she could and not letting go.
The fall seemed to take forever, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds before Morgan hit ground with a thud. She heard the groan of the hull as it cracked and broke, sinking into itself. Wood crunched and splintered, shattering into a million pieces and flying into the air before settling on the ground, nothing but useless debris. Morgan took a deep breath, hardly realizing that her home was in shambles around her, and was just thankful to be alive. It wasn’t until she opened her eyes that she realized she’d been squeezing them shut since the incident began.
What she saw was almost enough to make the tough pirate cry. The damage was worse than she could have expected. The Dagger’s Deep lay in ruins, and instead of being on the main deck, where she’d started out, she was in the bunkhouse below, staring up at the bright sky through the wreckage of her ship.
“No…” Morgan said, and for a minute, she rested her head in her arms, trying to take everything in. She didn’t know what had happened, but she did know that the only place she’d ever called home was gone for good.
Morgan didn’t hear the sirens for a few minutes, but when she did, she struggled to pull herself above deck. Her right arm was broken, and various cuts and bruises dotted her body, but she wasn’t seriously injured, and for that, she was thankful. The scene that lay before her when she crawled from the wreckage was something that Morgan could never have prepared herself for. Huge buildings stretched up past the clouds and the sky, taller than any building, or any tree that she’d ever seen. Her eyes widened in shock, and she stood motionless for a moment, unable to put her emotions into words. Strange machines whizzed past, there and then gone before Morgan had time to focus her eyes on them. She didn’t know where she was, or when she was, but she did know that she wanted to go home. Even the people looked weird, dressed in clothes that she’d never seen before. As she stepped forward and away from her ship, she briefly wondered if she really had died in the fall and was in heaven… Or hell.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Morgan shouted, her old self beginning to show through her shock and awe. Nobody answered her, but hundreds of people swarmed around. Police were there, too busy debating with the paramedics whether they should arrest her or take her to the hospital to really notice what she was doing. Hundreds of spectators were there too, being held off by the police as they struggled forward, trying to get a good look at the ruined pirate ship and the strange looking, purple-haired pirate.
She stumbled around, her breathing quickening as she began to realize the full extent of what was happening. She shouted again, but once again, the people around her weren’t even listening. The stress was pushing down on her, and her brain felt as if it were crushing in on itself. She gave out one final cry for help before she collapsed, hitting the ground with a thud and knocking herself out cold.

When Morgan woke, she was surrounded by white in a room that was clean and cold, and for a minute, she was sure that she truly had died. She tried to sit up in the bed, but found that her entire body was weak and sore, and her arm was bound in strange wrappings.
“The bloody hell…” She muttered to herself, pulling herself into a sitting position as best she could. She looked at her arm, and seeing that she was connected to odd machines, she remembered everything that had happened to her. She pulled the IV from her arm and swung her legs over the side of the hospital bed with every intention of walking out.
“Where are my clothes?” She demanded to nobody in particular when she saw the white and blue gown she wore. She began to look around, angrily searching for her possessions. “I’ll kill the bloody bastard who stole my things!” Morgan swore just as a nurse walked in the room.
The nurse was young, and obviously not used to treating patients as bizarre as Morgan. Her eyes widened, and she quickly urged Morgan to lie back down so she could put the IV back where it belonged.
“Where am I?” Morgan demanded angrily, even as she followed the nurse’s orders. “And what are you sticking in me?” The nurse worked quickly, but gave Morgan a strange look.
“You’re at Void City Hospital, dear, in the emergency wing. This is an IV, and it’s meant to give your body fluids.” It was Morgan’s turn to look strangely at the nurse, barely understanding anything she was saying. She wasn’t too sure about the needle that was sticking out of her arm, but the more pressing issue was the answer to her first question. She remained silent for a minute, trying to figure in her head.
“What the blast is Void City?” The nurse stuttered in reply, confused by the fact that Morgan obviously had no idea where she was. The woman scurried out of the room, returning a moment later with a doctor. He looked a little older than she did, and Morgan suspected that he was the kind of man that wasn’t surprised by much anymore.
“Hello, miss, my name is Dr. Glenn. I wonder if you could tell me what happened.”
“I don’t know what happened!” Morgan shouted, sitting up again, “One minute I was sailing, and the next bloody thing I knew, I was smashing down here, and I don’t even know where here is!”
“Calm down, calm down,” said Dr. Glenn, trying to be as soothing as possible. “You’re at Void City Hospital. Are you on any drugs, medications?”
“Medications? No, no, I just want to go home! I don’t need a doctor, just send me back and I’ll be fine.” Dr. Glenn turned back to his nurse and muttered something about how he suspected she was either on hallucinogens, or methamphetamines.
“Alright, dear, can you tell me your name?”
“Morgana. My crew just calls me Captain, or Morgan.” She was once again trying to sit up, but the nurse was by her side, doing her best to push Morgan back down. She wanted to just deck the girl, but she knew that it wouldn’t be received very well.
“What is your last name?” Dr. Glenn had a small flashlight, and was trying to peer into Morgan’s eyes.
“Don’t have one. Damn, just let me be! I’ll stop pirating, just let me out of here you bloody bastard!”
“Calm down, Morgana. Are you sure you haven’t taken any drugs? Who was the first president of the United States?” Morgan looked at the doctor, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger, confusion, and weariness.
“I’ve no clue what you’re on about! What’s the United States?”
“What year is it, Morgana?”
“1750!” The doctor clicked off his flashlight and dropped it into the pocket of his white coat, then left the room with a quick nod. He caught the attention of a police officer that’d been one of the first on the scene and flagged him over.
“Where did you get this loony?” The doctor asked, being slightly harsher than he usually was. It had been a long day for Dr. Glenn, and he needed his second cup of coffee quite desperately.
“Remarkable, really. Someone even caught it on tape. I tell you, doc, she literally fell out of the sky! And get this… She was in a pirate ship. No one can figure out where it came from, but it looked just like something out of a fairy tale! She had the getup going and everything too. Had nine daggers. I’m not kidding, nine! A sword too, and a gun that looks older than my granddad.” The cop shook his head, plopping down into a plastic chair.
“Officer, would it surprise you that she is under the belief that it’s 1750?” The cop laughed, unbuttoning the first button of his uniform shirt and slouching a little but.
“Doc, I’ve seen so much shit happen around here that at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was from 1750.”