On a Possible Voyage

May 17 1891

This entry starts with some scrawlings that log little notes sent-out, and little notes that have been stuck in a wooden box with other little notes.

"Darling L, I have heard the Most Delicious Rumour. There are Orchards on Mutton Island! The Apples are Real, Growing, Red! - N"

"Real orchards? I wonder if they would be safe to eat? And how one or we would get out there?--L****"

"Mutton Island is a Magical place! They say even the Rubbery Lumps are Divine! We shall need a Ship. - Narciso"

"Rubbery Lumps are horrid. But if you would like to voyage there, I might as well. Shall we look at shipsorShips this week?"

"Always Complaining! No Inclinations of Your Own? Come find me when you need me, and Don't Be Ridiculous about it! - Narciso"

"Cod is marvelous. And so are apples. Also pears. Will send Saunder when I can meet you at Wolfstack Docks. ---L****"

"Much better! Tell me the Things You Adore instead of the Things You Find Horrid. I shall see you then! - Narciso"

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This morning I received a note from Narciso. It is rare that he sends me a message first, and I must admit that it made me smile. I wrote it down in here, and expecting that this would turn even more interesting, I decided to log the notes with him from today. As you know, I usually just store the ones I recieve, and the letters in a box above me bed, along with other personal correspondence. 'Mutton Island' is one of the areas that were once part of London, but mostly sunk into the Unterzee. It is a place, along with the others, that I never thought about visiting. Expensive and dangerous to travel to, I have been curious, but it is not part of my goals as of this writing. Venderbight, and the Iron Republic being the only places on the Unterzee that I thought I would ever see. But I am now rather excited about a possible voyage, a voyage of exploration and hopefully of leisure.

'Leisure'. What has become of me? A dandy? In the least.

Well, I am quite well off in finances and reputations, and have been feeling, as I have already wrote, melancholy and anxious. And idle in waiting for passage with the Commodore. I have been so afraid, which for me to admit is proof of just how afraid that I really am. Your brave L****. [scribble] So if Narciso wishes to take a voyage to Mutton Island, with me, then I am going to try to do so. I have missed him terribly. Even since being back in London, I have not had much time seeing, or speaking with him. I miss the companionship, the conversation, what we call 'Prowling'--sharing Black Wings 'Absinthe'. And though it may not be fair to you; I miss him in my bed. I still find joy in hearing, and reading my name. Not 'Cassius', although that is, of course, as much my name as the one I was Christened with. But the one I have always used to address myself. The one I have always heard. I have hope that he has shared these rumours with me, and the idea of this trip, because he wishes to go with me, and not for other reasons. But enough of that. 'Assumptions are unwise.' And this is all that fear.

I cannot help but be excited to go look at ships with Narciso, and to possibly even procure one. To voyage South to see Mutton Island. I doubt that there are really proper orchards, or safe to eat apples, but even if this is a foolish adventure-as I expect it will be-I can think of nothing better that I can have right now. I hope that this possible journey will be safe for us, and that the worst that happens is that we find no "Real, Growing, Red" apples.