captainhornblower | First Dispatch

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First Dispatch - [written]

[The penmanship is formal, letters close together but not connected. Each letter is made of strokes, an almost calligraphy style-- which translates into broken letters with a modern pen.]

Thursday, 10th January, 1805

[A hastily scrawled question mark appears above the date a moment later.]

My precise location is unknown. [A long pause before more words are written.] My general location is unknown. My ship and men are missing. ~~God help me, what has happened?~~

[Notes appear in the margins, wind direction and estimations of its speed. The word 'drift?' and the beginnings of a mathematical formula are etched into a margin.]

I do not know how I came to be where I am. [Another margin note: 'wings???'] I cannot expect this to even be found, but I will record my observations. It is all I can do, and I must do something.

Currently on board vessel. [Another note in the margins:
'unoccupied
single mast
no flags
enemy?
ally?
neutral party?
abandoned?']

~~May the Lord have mercy on me.~~

[The signature is larger, even more carefully penned.]

Hornblower

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ dawn is just going to flip her side of this to voice, because it's hard trying to figure out what to say without coming on too strong or convincing him she's a crazy person without also translating it from thought to pen. ]

Okay, so. Long story short is: freaky alternate dimension, we're all trapped, and don't touch your wings yet because they're going to hurt. [ she wants to blurt out 'has archie seen you yet' but ruining the real life, friendship version of 'verbal is keyser söze' seems at very, very best tacky. ]

[The book just got thrown again.

And he's managed to turn on the voice option himself without knowing it.]

What in God's name?!

[He is getting nowhere near that thing now.]

[ ...right, don't scare the new people with talking books. give dawn a minute to facewall. ]

This is a prime example of why timelines suck. I swear the journal is okay, it's just. Um. It can transmit voice and writing? So I'm not actually in your journal, I'm talking into mine and yours is picking it up.

[ and also videos but enough for now. ]

[His voice is slowly getting louder, as he approaches the journal.]

This must be some sort of witchcraft.

I think the actual term would be technocraft, to get all portmanteau-y. But not like I can prove it.

[ right, okay. things not being a gigantic geek. ]

I promise you're going to be okay.

[...Yeah. All that? Over his head. Completely.]

"Fine"?

I am far from home-- I presume--, my men and ship are missing. I have no way of contacting my superiors.

I am far from "fine."

[...Forgive the testy tone.]

[ this one's a babbler. when she gets going, the whole 'wait, remember reference point differences' gets lost in the shuffle. ]

...Okay, true. But you're also not dead and alert enough to be cranky, which goes in the plus column if you think about it?

[ it's expected for new people. ]

If I were--

Ha--h'm. [It's a strange sound, something like clearing his throat.]

So long as I am alive, that affords the possibility of escape, and make no mistake of it-- I intend to leave this place and get back to where I am needed.

More options on the revolving door wouldn't suck.

[ but dawn can't quite make herself want to leave, shifts and drafts and all. ]

If it helps at all, it kind of seems like when we come here time kind of... stops, for everyone. Like, okay. My sister is here, and she's been here for like two years. But I don't remember her being gone at all, and I've only been here since... oh, wow. January. [ six months is approaching faster than she realized. ] So whoever you need to get back to? They'll be okay until you do.

There is a war going on. I have to get back.

Damn it all!

How in God's name is this even possible?

[ dawn wants to say 'join the club' but being flip to her boyfriend's best friend is an awful idea, the end. ]

I don't actually know. No one does except the Malnosso, and they're not exactly lining up to explain things to us.

Malnosso? [It sounds like a group to him. "The Dons," "the Frogs," and such.] Are they the people native to this land? The governing body? Are we in French territory? Spanish? Italian, perhaps?

Our esteemed kidnappers. And... natives is kind of complicated. Has anyone shown you the guide yet? It explains more of the nuts and bolts. [ dawn can't help but laugh, but it's quiet and sympathetic. ] None of the above. We're... not quite on familiar ground. In the literal sense.

It was mentioned. I intend to look at it soon.

[The sound of pages quickly turning? Unmistakable.]

Damned witchcraft. Nothing else it could be. Witchcraft. How am I supposed to face witchcraft?

It might explain things more. And, you know. Make me seem less like a total crazy person.

[ she can broach the whole 'doing magic isn't evil by base definition' speech later. ]

It's not that bad, once you get through the adjustment period. The idea of it, I mean. [ jack died during the draft; it can be that bad, sometimes. ]

[The language he's muttering under his breath? Normally, he'd never speak that way where a lady could hear him.

But he can't quite mentally connect the voice coming from his book with someone else flesh and blood.]

I think it is and shall remain "that bad."

I have duties in England and at sea. Here, I am unable to do them.

I can think of nothing worse.

[ she's heard worse, thank you spike. ]

You could have a sucking chest wound and all that. [ beat. ] Just for perspective.

...I'm Dawn, by the way.

Captain Hornblower, of his Britannic Majesty's Royal Navy.

[ now on dawn's mind: is there a polite and non-creepy way to say 'so, i'm dating your best friend please please please like me' when you've never met someone before and they've only recently been kidnapped and need adjustment time?

...probably not. ]

Is Ar-- I mean. I'm sorry I don't have better news, or an escape hatch.

There is always a means to escape. One needs only consider the situation and find it.

[This is what he has to tell himself. He has to think that he can get out of here. Get back to where he belongs.]

Okay, true. Just because none of us have found one yet, doesn't mean there isn't one.

[ because arguing about the lack of possibility of escape is a bad plan, at this juncture. ]

[Arguing with Horatio right now would be like trying to reason with a brick wall to move itself somewhere.

Wise decision, Dawn.]

If there is a way in, there is a way out.

[ she makes them, sometimes. ]

By definition, yes.

The way out will be found. Make no mistake about that.

[The captain is very good at sounding sure... when he really isn't.]

I'm mistake-free, really.

[ hey, everyone deals their own way. ]

First Dispatch - [written]

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