Auburn hair cascading down in ringlettes around her ashen face, Mrs. Marjorie Lovett burst through the thin door of Suite 42 and stumbled clumsily into the main hall of the ship.  Her eyes narrowed in a vengful glare.  She remembered the burn, the fear, the spite... the broken trust.  Her broken heart.  Marching down the walk with her rolling pin ( Read more... )

There's a new person on the ship, though she doesn't make an announcement of it. One moment she was back home in Concord baking bread (from the looks of her dress, anyway), and then she was here. So she's exploring, curious and quiet. After a few minutes, she finds the piano in the main room and sits, running her fingers over it in something ( Read more... )

He'd been laying on his back on the moor, arm behind his head and one leg bent with the other resting on it, half napping in a spot of sunlight like a cat, listening to the Robin sing. The sudden silence from the bird makes him sit up, and when his hands hit wooden decking rather than soft grass and wildflowers his eyes open with a start. His ( Read more... )

Standing on the deck is a young Transylvanian girl, looking around herself with wide eyes. A moment ago she was in the Count's castle, just about to take a bath - but this is not the castle, unless the Count has an ocean in his castle, which is surely impossible ( Read more... )

He doesn't look the least bit surprised to be on a ship. He's probably been around the whole time, really, even if it wasn't conciously. He's everywhere. This evening though, as the sun sets, a shadow detaches itself from a corner and slowly strides to the side of the ship. He appears to be a young man with bright gold hair and ancient eyes. ( Read more... )

Aha.

Javert was displeased. He found himself in yet another strange place, amongst strange people. Hmph. What was he supposed to do now? The police Inspector flicked his hair behind his shoulder. He supposed an introduction was in order.

"Inspector Javert, at your service."

That was good enough.

To Gordon, it's always seemed as though living in New York was good preparation for any sort of situation. Apparently he is wrong. His eyes slowly scan his aurroundings while his mind - ever trying to find a logical explanation for things - work overtime. This is just ... Well, he isn't sure he could find a proper word to describe it. The only ( Read more... )

There's the sound of hoofbeats, and a young, dashingly handsome man enters. Curiously enough, the hoofbeats are not from any sort of horse, but a couple of coconut halves, which he is, indeed, banging together. He dismounts from his invisible horse after a moment, looking around a little confusedly ( Read more... )

Enter a small, harried looking man. He's spent time in the Woods, and it shows on his clothing. He stops mid-deck and raises his eyes from the ground (one can see that they are red, as if he has been crying). He starts at the sight of the boat suddenly around him, then asks no one in particular in a tone that is half despairing and half resigned, " ( Read more... )

It was all too distressing how these things happened. One moment, you're about to launch a fierce assault on that most dishonourable of traitors, the Major General, and the next, you're all alone on a boat. Or, more precisely, all alone on a boat that's not your own ( Read more... )