"The last thing we expected was the Uninvited, but ain't that the way. Bastards.
Caught us down South of Perkins' Copse. We'd come up from Titania in a bid to avoid the Chorister's. Captain felt it'd be safer. Found a dead steamer straight ahead, real bad omen. Don't even have time for salvage when the Uninvited hit us; riding some hapless former Tackety. We move to break away but they're already whipping round fast on our starboard, firing. By the time we hit the Peacock Wind which wrecks us we're at top speed, the Uninvited pursuing..."

-Testimony surviving crew-member Intractable.

The last thing we expected was a locked door as Slicker Sam told us it was all open to the safe room.Fumbles Magee,luckily was prepared and triggered the lock and in we went. Pitch black it was,couldn't see a foot in front of us. Red Hawk said follow me.CRASH! Red had tripped over something and let out an unholy scream.One Ears was following Red and also fell and screamed because he saw what had a hold off Red.You IDIOTS! I yelled,do you want us all lumbered? The lights come on,Red had been

The last thing we expected was the dance to save us. We were a hair’s breadth from mutiny and murder, but when she (it?) drifted aboard with that ravenous rhythm all was forgotten. What we saw… what we did to survive… All washed away in the cavorting melody.

See those two with the twisted ankles? The bitterest of rivals! They were to duel at dawn. Now they clasp arms and caper like lovers.

Oh, please relax! I know you struggle now and try to resist the tap-tapping of your feet. But soon you’ll join us…

And a one-two-three. One-two-three.
Good!
Good!

Yeah, I think I'll hold off entering this contest until GOG finishes up the last contest I entered. It's only been a bit more than 3 years since the contest ended - I'm sure they'll announce the winners soon.

Back in 2016, it was pretty much the next thing on Konrad's list of things to do. Whatever was ahead of it on the list, must have been a doozy of a task!

It was the last thing we expected to see.

We drifted aimlessly; the engines broke down weeks ago. We have run out of provisions and hope. We got lost in the Void, the darkness In-Between, where absence of everything includes even death.

Then we saw it. A paradox pulsing inside the black despair. A newborn sun, guiding us with its solar currents. We rejoiced. To burn was a gift.

Finally, we came closer. Something gigantic and alive was writhing inside. Looking. Eating. Hatching.

There is no Light. No God, nor Death. Only He. The Eater of Worlds.

We serve! Wgah'nagl fhtagn!

The last thing we expected was that d-mn book. The title seemed to flow and change whenever anyone focused on it. The only inscription we managed to decipher – and only after the incorrigible translator went mad – was property of the Spinsters.

We left that book behind with the translator at an abandoned homestead. Before we made it more than a barrel of hours away the book returned to my cabin. Stamped with dark letters: Overdue. Pages were strewn about and beneath them a vial, inside the soul of the incorrigible translator. They will remain on my neck until it is returned.

Every time I scroll past this thread, I initially parse the first part of the title as "Share your slash fiction". (Sorry, should I have begun that with "The last thing I expected was that..."?)

The first thing we saw was ripples in the waves, their pattern erratic, out of place in the otherwise placid zee. The captain ordered we change course from Varchas, and instead head towards the source of the disturbance. Slowly we pulled The Spring-Wound Star around, turning the bow southwest, towards The Grand Geode. As we drew nearer, we encountered a terrifying sight, a nightmare rendered true. Colossal pieces of machinery were plummeting from above, piercing the waters and sending shockwaves across the unterzee. No longer would we chant “The Sun! The Sun!”, for the Dawn Machine was collapsing.

The last thing we expected was at teatime. The posh posh traveling life, the traveling life for yea. Oh ‘ow we try to ‘ave our crumpets, sans folly!
Only, “Ere,” says Crowley. “A giant hocktapus ‘proaches from lateral degree nine o’ five dilly dolly hectares and five o’ fathom six!”
“Damn these hocktapusses! Can’t a captain ‘ave ‘is crumpets in peace? Welly well,” say I. “Raise shields and lock all steampedoes on her, Ms. Kitty!”
When all o’ a sudden Mr. Zulu raised the threat level more by spilling his cup! “Crumpets,” I says. “Fire! And, everybody watch yer step!”

The first thing we saw was her favorite shawl. She didn’t need it anymore…
After I die, before I rejoin her, take my soul to the Sun. I want to see it for the first and last time.
Was that your warmth that I missed my whole life? Or was it her hand holding mine?
Was that a lack of your sunlight that kept me wandering aimlessly? Or was it her smile?
Bring me there, I want to see. I want to know!
I’ll be next to her soon. But never with her. My Sun is gone. Forever.

I've got two to offer.
Here's one of the Zee

The first thing we saw were his eyes, glimmering pinpricks in the shadowed hallway.
The Captain strode forwards, bare feet of crystal snapping and clicking against the cloudy quartz floor of Anthe.
Clothes torn by biting crystal shards, he stood before the crew, like a freshly hatched god appearing to its followers.
The thing our captain had become took a deep, savoring breath, like wind through a cathedral.
“We are done here,” it said, voice like precious stones and ice and ringing bells, “South, then?”
Immortality is for gods and monsters, they say. Seems that The Captain had solved that conundrum.

And here's one of the skies.

The last thing we expected was to see our own locomotive, crushed against a floating trunk of bronzewood.
Wood and metal, both alike in dignity, stuck together like madman’s clockwork. We couldn’t get a close enough look to be certain, but the crew seems sure of it.
The Triumphant: now the name seems even more ironic. The crew speaks of ill omens and of divine warnings, but the stokers agree that we can’t change course; we’ve just enough fuel to reach Titania.
In truth, I’m fearful. The horizon stretches and shifts, clocks run backwards and sideways, disaster is in the air.

LOL I came in here to write a bunch of "Ia Ia fnorgan yadda yadda yadda* Cthulhuy sounding nonsense into a few paragraphs until I saw this :)

AyeBraine, your submission is awesome and I really like it!

Dr_Adder, I think you mean "star system". The only star system that is a Sol-ar system is the star system around Sol, our star.

Yes. Thanks!

The last thing we expected was each other.

Mates by chance, the occasional glance, yet nary a dance; never alone, through sunless expanse. Wonders and horrors we’ve seen as one, us weary explorers - the battles we’ve won!
What I prized, our fates unionized, now leaves me agonized; together alone, divinely despised. My hand holds yours, yet yours not mine. Let’s open the doors - your form will shine.
Thoughts in my head, whilst I was lead, if only I’d said; Forever alone, away from the dead. A legacy undone, now mine from thou. Then your number one, the captain now.



I wasn’t expecting to make my tale a love story, but I got hit with a sudden burst of 1AM inspiration so I guess it worked out in the end.