Yet another letter, in response to another response.

James;
    Your Brandy would have been More Helpful. Of course Aye bloody couldn't Do Anything, I Tried and I Could Not I Failed, Thank You Very Much.
    Where is this Gibraltar? Not Here, Obviously, and Meditteranean, Obviously, But Still. Tell the Spanish To Go Suck Eggs, and the French and ( Read more... )

A reply to a rather panicked missive is rapidly sent.

Dear James;
    I apologize and am currently in the place with the bloody great triangular things. Lovely Bathing Beauty has been Reunited With Family in Very Touching Moment After Which They Sold Her Again. Could do nothing. Your brandy is gone.
    Aye Cannot Find your Previous Letter and Suspect ( Read more... )

This letter, unlike the rest and certainly unlike the other fellow's latest is incredibly hurried and on a bit of torn-off paper from what might have been a map.

James;
    I admit that your Latest Correspondence remains unopened at the moment, but things have been A Bit Hectic of late and Aye shall surely get to it eventually.
    It would Appear ( Read more... )

This letter, most likely, is on the opposite end from its precursor, but that is oft the way of things in messy piles.

Norrie;
    Well, Are You Not a Mighty Fancy Pants now? And aye do not Know what you mean by Well Behaved because you Certainly were not whilst under har har my command. And be assured, you Shall Be Shouting Something most assuredly ( Read more... )

The pile of letters is obviously thrown together haphazardly, but this one is not too far from the one it's responding to. At least there are less Capital Letters This Time.

Dear Midshipman James L Norrington;

You Are I Assume Stilll Midshipman? Be sure to Behave Well and Learn Quickly, etc. What else do Corresponders To Midshipmen say? You would ( Read more... )

An old, old letter, sent long ago in reply to two others, now has been discarded not far from them. The hand that forged it is not nearly as neat or practiced, nor was it as careful of rum rings or ink splots. It's a letter from one self-educated seaman to a counterpart uncomfortably far away, and at least half meant in jest. The lines are not ( Read more... )

It was long ago, in a different age - or rather the end of an age - when one small man faced his fears, blinked twice, and ran away. And when most would grow tired, weaken, and eventually succumb, he did not. The man continued to run, beyond the end of everything. And where it would be nice in a romantic, narrative style of things to say he never ( Read more... )