I know. Silver's daughter. SOOO original, right? Oh, and she's shipped with Jim? Totally didn't see that coming! Wait, wait…What's this? SAME STORY AS THE MOVIE, BUT WITH AN OC?! HOLY CRAP COULD THIS GET ANY MORE DIFFERENT THAN ANYTHING ELSE WE'VE EVER READ?! Trust me, I know. But here's my reasoning:

She's not going to be human, because even though Silver does look human(besides metal parts), let's face it, there are some pretty apparent differences. (She's going to be real close, though.)

Jim and she are NOT going to get together, just yet! (No she doesn't die, either. I love her too much for that.) It's going to happen later. Read below to see what kind of later:

I didn't really want to go according to the timeline. However, what I wanted to go with needed a bonding before the plot I had in mind, and I got sick of the whole, "Childhood friendship goings on about." It's cute, don't get me wrong, but…it's slightly overdone. So, here we goes!

"Trish! Trish, get yer lazy bum up befer I get it up fer ya!"

Trish groaned at the calling of her name, and rolled onto her back from her original position on her stomach, "Go away, I'll be up in a few more minutes."

"No, now ye slow tinkin' tweek!"

Trish gave an exasperated sigh and a groan of annoyance, before she begrudgingly threw herself from her comfortable hammock of paradise and onto the hard-wood floor.

"Ye up, yet?!"

"Yeah, yeah, hold your horsped!"

She heard a grumbling before the 'creak, thud, creak, thud' of her father's footsteps up the stairs from the sleeping quarters. What's his deal? He never wakes me up. Or at least not this early…

As she lazily tied her boots a tall, thin figure began to grow behind her, overcastting a horrifying shadow, not too different from an arachnid of sorts. Trish was too out-of-it to notice as said figure began to lean forward in a menacing manner, yellow eyes gleaming in what seems to be malice.

Trish's face scrutinized for a second as though she were confused, or ate a bad purp. She slowly began to turn around to become face to face with the figure.

At first there was an awkward pause, before Trish spoke, "Can I have my socks, Scroop?"

Scroop, for that was the arachnid-like figure, grumbled a "Here," before tossing Trish's socks behind her.

Trish threw a glare in Scroop's direction before turning and scooping up her socks and removing her boots to wear them with the preferred article of clothing.

"You know itssss late in the morning, correct?" Scroop hissed and slunk his way to the door.

"What else is new?" retorted Trish with a yawn while slipping her left boot on.

"We have a ship to board before noon," Scroop called over his shoulder as he opened the door.

"Aren't we on a ship, Scroop?" Trish shoved her foot in her right boot.

"Thissss isssn't the RLSSSS Legaccy," Scroop pointed out in his hissing voice.

That obvious statement seemed to be cold water on Trish's face since her eyes lost any sense of tiredness and her posture corrected itself in a matter of seconds.

"OH, STREEF!" Trish swore in her mother's native tongue before bolting past Scroop-who was already prepared for her reaction-and ran up to the ship's deck…only to find it wasn't the ship she was familiar with.

Sure the crew was there, but the ship was far nicer than she remembered. Shiny, new, and bigger. Much bigger.

Trish rubbed her eye before turning, complete annoyance plastered her expression. "Scroooop, you amazing arachnid psycho!" she called sweetly.

She stepped down to the sleeping quarters, only to find it empty. "That jerk is gonna get it," Trish mumbled. She turned back around and made her way to the kitchen, barely avoiding the rest of the crew, especially making sure to avoid Herry Turnbuckle. She's owed the guy money for a few weeks now, but has refused to admit defeat from her end of the bet.

As she stumbled down the steps to the kitchen she could hear her father humming a tune.

"Ah, Trish!" He greeted from the other side of the room. "Ye've finally decided to wake, eh?"

"You made me!"

He chuckled, "I can only tell ye what to do. Ye did it yerself."

"'Ye did it yerself'!" mimicked morph as he flew around the room, planting himself on Trish's shoulder.

"Hey, Smalls," Trish greeted the pink blob with a smile.

"Morph," corrected Silver with a grumble as he chopped a plant that looked somewhat like garlic or an onion with his metal arm.

"He doesn't mind his nickname, do ya, buddie?"she stroked under Morph's belly as he chirped in content.

"I do, lass."

"Eh," she shrugged as she jumped up on the counter, feet under her in a crouch.

"'Ey!" Silver suddenly pointed his knife at her in an empty threat.

Trish huffed as she threw her feet in front of herself so she was now sitting on the counter on her bum. Silver went back to chopping, satisfied with the change.

"When are we taking off?"

"Whenever our passengers get 'ere," Silver poured the chopped contents into the bowl.

"Ugh," Trish lay on the counter only to be scooted off by her father so he could access his needed carrots. "Are you sure it's today?"

"We've only been countin' down."

"Yeah, but I doubt the Captain's even on board. Maybe they canceled. Maybe it's another dead end, Dad."

"So? Wouldn' be ta first we've been t'rough."

Trish was about to make a retort before she was interrupted by chirps from Morph.

"You want to play now?"

Morph nodded.

"Fine, you call."

Morph turned into a mini Trish hiding behind a door, indicating hide-and-seek.

"Okay, but YOU have to hide. Got it?"

The pink blob nodded eagerly before zooming off after Trish covered her eyes and started counting.

"T'is sweet how ye two play toget'er," Silver commented as he pushed the carrots into the pot.

"Ha. Ha. Now, lemme count-29. 30! Ready or not! Here I come!" Trish uncovered her eyes, glancing around a bit before running up onto the deck. She wasn't really going to try THAT hard, of course. Trying to find morph was like trying to find a needle in needles if he was playful enough.

Trish forced her eyes to adjust to the sudden light for a second before setting off on her "mini-quest." However, her search eventually changed into an observation of the ship. Since she was brought over in her sleep, and she immediately went to greet her father, she didn't really get the chance to sightsee.

Suddenly, she bumped into something fairly solid, making her fall flat on her bum.

"Oh, sorry," she heard a boy's voice. As she looked up at the owner of said voice, she couldn't help but grimace. There stood a young man. Possibly a year-or-so older than herself, with dark hair cut so his eyes were easily hidden, wearing baggy clothes and boots. His jacket was black, possibly as an attempt to give him a "bad boy" look.

Psh. Yeah, right.

Trish ignored his offered hand, instead giving a rather dark glare and stood up.

"No, thanks," she grumbled intent on leaving to find Morph. He'd been in hiding for a while, now.

"Sheesh, what's with this crew?" she heard him mumble as she began to stomp off.

Immediately she lazily turned on her heel, face relaxed, but eyes dark.

"Listen, Jack," she began, taking not of the pony-tail growing at the base of his skull that she didn't notice from the front-view of him. He looked over his shoulder. "This crew has been through a lot that makes them how you see them as now. Mmkay? You don't like it, you shouldn't have hired us."

"Wait, I didn't hire you!"

"Psh. Doesn't really matter whether you did or didn't. Either way, don't complain. You couldn't do half the stuff we can, so be a good little passenger and suck up our attitude."

"Geez, what is your problem?! I didn't even do anything!"

"You're about my age, right?"

Confused on the sudden change of subject, the boy hesitantly answered, "Yeah. I'm guessing."

"I've never done well with other's my age. So that's one thing you did wrong."

"Being your age?"

Trish nodded.

The boy suddenly looked exasperated, and annoyed at the same time. Something Trish could relate to on most occasions.

"Jim?" called a fairly distant voice. Jim, as Trish now discovered, sent a fairly menacing glare at Trish, before turning and heading towards the voice. She had to admit, his glare was pretty threatening, and attractive. If only Trish cared about guys.

~O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O~

"Ye'd better be nice to the lad," Silver warned Trish as he cleaned a few cutting boards. Trish had told him about what happened on deck. Of course, she didn't find Morph, but he'll quit in victory soon enough.

"I know I started it, Dad, but he's MY age. I've never gotten along with ANYONE my age, and now I'm stuck with him for a few months, at the least!"

"All ta more reason ta get along wit him."

"But, Dad-"

"No 'buts', Lass. Now, I want ye to make friends wit him. He may know about ta treasure, or even more important-"

"The map. I know!" Trish dramatically threw her back to the wall in exasperation.

"So…?" Silver pushed.

"So...So…Fine. I'll apologize the next chance I get."

"'Atta lass."

There seemed to be sudden peace between the two family members, and after a short time the cyborg Ursid began to whistle a tune that Trish knew by heart. After a minute or so, she began to hum along.

After a while of this, Trish quieted at the sound of footsteps descending the stairs followed by voices.

OH...EM...GEE! What voices?! Is she schizophrenic? Is it Jim? Maybe it's Amelia, or possibly Herry Turnbuckle, in search of his money?! *Gasp!* Honestly, I wasn't expecting to post this, but it's late, I'm alone, I'm tired, and I have NO idea how well I've done. So, before I move on I'd like some GENTLE advice, PLEASE! Now, this means reviews, but I'm not gonna beg (yet). So, lay it on me, and I'll see and write more, with the necessary changes. Please and thank you!

Oh and lemme know if any of you have any idea who Mr. Turnbuckle is. CX

Out...