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

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[Archie was leafing through the journal to observe new feather comings when...

Hornblower?

It takes him some time of staring and breathing, then he writes with a mild tremor in his hand.]

You are in Luceti.

[ dawn isn't in the habit of greeting every single newbie, but when you hear the name 'hornblower' you don't exactly forget it. ]

You're in Luceti, and the how is... kind of kidnapping. [ here is just a few dots, like dawn started to write something else and instead just tapped her pen thoughtfully. ] You're going to be okay, though.

CURRENTLY ON BOARD VESSEL?!!!!!!

[The reply is a long time coming.

Which has nothing to do with the fact that the journal was thrown to the other side of the deck. Nothing at all.]

Luceti?

[A margin note: 'witchcraft?']

[A long pause, as Archie is trying to compose himself.]

Another world, where rules like time and death mean little.

[1805? Three years, oh God, almost to the day.]

Luceti.

[He still does not like this. This is strange.]

Kidnapping? ~~God help me.~~ By whom? Who is in charge? Whom should I be speaking to about securing my release?

That's the part where things get a little messy. You can't really control that.

So not to derail your freakout, but you wouldn't happen to be Horatio Hornblower, would you?

You're right about it being Thursday. But you're off on the date. And the month. And the year. [ dot dot dot. ] Maybe the year.

Edited 2011-05-06 00:20 (UTC)

Yes. Small craft but sound.

World? ~~How~~ ~~What~~

God above.

[It's a very, very long pause before a reply is written.]

I am.

Edited 2011-05-06 01:17 (UTC)

[ 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. ]

Then [a pause] what is the date?

[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. ]

It isn't easy to explain, and none of us are certain how it happens, but we're all taken here by a force we don't understand.

[His hand is steadying somewhat.]

What is your name?

[Well. Now the question is how much to reveal.

Might as well.]

Captain Horatio Hornblower, of his Britannic Majesty's Atropos.

[He'd never gotten his ship. Had been on the way to get it, actually. But. He'd had his orders, so he could call himself her captain.]

Edited 2011-05-06 02:01 (UTC)

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

This must be some sort of witchcraft.

[Captain. A swell of pride. Good for you, Horatio.]

Horatio, it is very important that you understand that you are not dead. It might be your first thought, but everyone here is very much alive. It is very important that you do everything I say, and everything will be all right.

Well I should think sound. Well constructed. Fast. Lovely.

Is she flying any colors?

Edited 2011-05-06 02:16 (UTC)

[...The words appearing on the page have gotten quite informal.

This is odd.]

I thought I might be, but there's pain. Pain wouldn't be there if I were dead.

May the fifth. The year? I'm...more hazy on. But it's not that one.

Remember that. Now Horatio, I need you to take the boat ashore. When you get there, I will be waiting for you to help you to the village.

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.

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