captainhornblower | First Dispatch

[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

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. ]

[Forgive him. He's frustrated, so it slips out.]

I highly doubt that.

You're new and freaked out, so I'm officially striking that from the record.

...But in general, no I'm not. I meant in this specific, not doubting your dedication to getting out sense.

[ just sliiiiiiiightly frosty tones there. ]

[He sighs a bit. He's offended the talking book. Or person talking through the book.]

I need to get home.

[As if that's an explanation.]

I'm guessing being an advocate of patience would work about as well on you as it would if someone said that to me when I was new, so I'm not even going to try.

...No one stays here forever.

[He's trying to be nice. Sort of. A little bit.

Okay, no. He's trying to be civil.]

You said that those at home... won't know I'm gone?

[ dawn will take civility and run with it. ]

As far as I can tell. Like I said, my sister? She's been here two years, and I've been here six months. But that year and a half gap when she feels like she's been here? I remember her being at home. It's... think of it like a bubble, maybe? Like inside the barrier time just stops.

...I'm not a science person, this isn't my area of expertise at all. I bet someone else has figured out how to explain it without resorting to comparing us to people in a bubble.

That's something, I suppose.

[A small comfort, in a way.]

There is someone back home who would worry dreadfully. I should not like to be the cause of that.

They won't. My personal theory is when we go back? We don't even know we left. Let alone the people who didn't get dragged along with.

I certainly hope you're right.

I have a pretty decent track record.

[ she sounds more confident than smug, but still. really, dawn? ]

Good to know.

[Not that he's being sarcastic at all, no.]

[ voice ]

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First Dispatch - [written]

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