four - place the moon at my eyes

[kingsroads]

[ the post goes up late Thursday, into the evening hours. and MAN is Strange so thankful for this magical journal system. He really doesn't want to have to write this multiple times. ]

One of our new visitors is an enchanter of some sort. He has cursed me and trapped Sabriel.

Francis, McGonagall, I shall need your help. I cannot save Sabriel alone. Likewise, I will need to help of any new magicians who might have arrived with the visitors. As I cannot tell the new magicians this myself, I am relying on the rest of the ship's crew to pass on this message as I cannot myself. Please meet me at my room—the proper one, not my cursed apartment.

Persson, Sheehan, I have a question of you. How can one dream up an item they had back home? Does it work the same as the communal dream of Goodsir and Jopson's rooms or can I do this by myself? I know the item's properties perfectly as I created it myself, I simply need it here. Do not come to me in person, simply respond with your journal.

As for the rest of the ship, I need a mirror and something dead—flowers, perhaps? Please leave them outside my door if you have them. There is a spell I can still cast, a spell to see what my enemy is doing. I do not know who my enemy is but the enchanter hurt Sabriel. Undoubtedly he is my enemy and undoubtedly he is on this ship.

Stay safe.

Comments

[goingtobeunwell]

Crozier catches his hand as Jonathan walks by again. He only means to tell him that it's going to be all right, that they'd find a way to set things back to normal, but he tugs a little too hard and pulls him a little too close.

He presses his lips to the side of Strange's mouth. It's impulsive, and more than he's ever done with another man, but the consequences seem so small in the face of things. "I know your heart is breaking," he whispers. "Your mind is scattered." I will make you whole again, he thinks.

"We'll make it right."

[kingsroads]

Oh. Well that was lovely.

Strange's expression shifts to a charmed little smile as Crozier kisses him. It's a smile of happy disbelief, the sort of 'oh wow, I didn't expect that to happen but I'm kind of glad it did' feeling that Strange gets whenever he crafts a spell that he wasn't sure would work. It was nice. He kind of wants to do it again.

But that will happen later. Right now, there is work to be done.

He takes Crozier's hand, the hand that has the lichen growing on it, the hand that is there but isn't and gives it a small squeeze (ah, so it is there, that's nice to know). He looks at his captain and mouths, 'Thank you, Francis' before gently setting his hand down and, with even more renewed vigor than before, leaves his room to interrogate some new arrivals.

[goingtobeunwell]

Crozier's not even sure what the hell happened until Strange is out of the room. He stumbles backwards a little, leaning against the wall that contains Sabriel's portrait.

He leans forward to glance at her. No, still frozen in place. That doesn't mean she's not seeing, but Christ Almighty, he hopes she's not. He hopes she'll wake from the curse with no memory of what occurred.

"Someone will be back," he reassures her, just in case she can hear him. "We won't leave you alone for long, Sabriel."

He leaves her, even though he feels guilty doing it.