Captain Horatio Hornblower (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
captainhornblower) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-02-20 09:33 pm
captainhornblower) wrote in driftfleet2016-02-20 09:33 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Horatio Hornblower
Broadcast: fleetwide, unintentional
Action: Marsiva
When: The 19th
God in Heaven, William. What time--
[But the person he's speaking to isn't there. Nothing is where it was when he fell asleep the night before. This is most certainly not Missus Mason's attic, and he can distinctly remember quarrelling with her. So he didn't happen to sleep somewhere else.
Might have been more pleasant if he had.
His head hurts, but that's from drink.
Slowly, he sits up, looking around the bunk he's found himself in. It's... quite unlike anything he has experience with. Even inns don't look like this, and that makes his head hurt even more.
He's dressed. He realises that after a moment more. He'd thought he'd gotten ready for bed before lying down, but after a certain point memory does get a bit foggy. What's disconcerting, though, is that there's nothing in his pocket when he feels it. No remaining money from his winnings.
But if he'd been robbed, his coat ought to have been taken. The buttons are worth a bit, at least, and his sword is still at his side. And he is alone. Which is perhaps the most worrying thing.]
William?
[But there's no one around. Not that he sees. He is here alone.]
Mister Bush?
God damn it, what's going on...
Broadcast: fleetwide, unintentional
Action: Marsiva
When: The 19th
God in Heaven, William. What time--
[But the person he's speaking to isn't there. Nothing is where it was when he fell asleep the night before. This is most certainly not Missus Mason's attic, and he can distinctly remember quarrelling with her. So he didn't happen to sleep somewhere else.
Might have been more pleasant if he had.
His head hurts, but that's from drink.
Slowly, he sits up, looking around the bunk he's found himself in. It's... quite unlike anything he has experience with. Even inns don't look like this, and that makes his head hurt even more.
He's dressed. He realises that after a moment more. He'd thought he'd gotten ready for bed before lying down, but after a certain point memory does get a bit foggy. What's disconcerting, though, is that there's nothing in his pocket when he feels it. No remaining money from his winnings.
But if he'd been robbed, his coat ought to have been taken. The buttons are worth a bit, at least, and his sword is still at his side. And he is alone. Which is perhaps the most worrying thing.]
William?
[But there's no one around. Not that he sees. He is here alone.]
Mister Bush?
God damn it, what's going on...
no subject
She nods respectfully in acknowledgement, taking note of that almost… Commander? Captain? Recently demoted, or was he trying to hide his higher rank from her for some reason?]
Lieutenant Hornblower. A pleasure, though I wish the circumstances of our meeting weren’t quite so… strange.