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The Voyage: 004: Wilhelmina

May 7, 2015

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A disreputable-looking man in an ill-fitting coat opened the carriage door and Lady Wilhelmina exited the cab, resting heavily on her cane, which she didn’t really need, but the doctors were always fussing over her use.  She scowled up at the massive white and gold (or was it blue and black?) craft, and the huge, sun-blocking gasbag that it hung from.  Massive propellers turned lazily from the sides, flashing in the few scan rays of sunlight that reached them.  “It doesn’t look like much, does it?”  But behind her, Penelope gasped.  She was entranced by the behemoth.

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The Voyage: 003: Declan

May 6, 2015

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Declan adjusted his gloves and waited for the carriage to come to a stop.  He felt conspicuously uncomfortable in his new uniform, complete with top hat, coat, and gloves.  He was glad for the morning’s chill, and the shadow of the massive envelope, because otherwise he would sweat wright through them, and not be able to lift a thing at all.  He was just a dock rat from Welland.  He had no business hobnobbing with ladies and gentlemen.  But portering was a sight better than dock work, and they needed the money with Eliza pregnant again.  He opened the door.

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The Voyage: 002: Penelope

May 5, 2015

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“Grandmother, please do sit,” Penelope Hamilton said, trying to hide her own excitement as best as she could.  She was nearly eighteen, and ever so excited to travel, much less by airship.  Her mother seemed less pleased with the prospect, but the Lady Wilhelmina was not about to let her youngest granddaughter travel abroad unsupervised.  The old woman scowled and settled back into her seat.  “It is not as though the ship can leave without us.”  Her grandmother said nothing but her baleful gaze swept the compartment and made their maid, Rosemary squeak.  Finally the carriage began rolling once again.

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The Voyage: 001: Henry

May 4, 2015

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The handsome made its way through the muddy streets of York, Canada to the Royal Airfield on a chilly but bright March morning. Henry pulled his furs a bit tighter against the wind and reigned in the team as they approached the gate. A cane rapping sharply against the roof and he suppressed a grimace.
“Henry are we finally arrived?’ He took a breath and contrived to keep his tone light, and subservient.
“Nearly there, Mum. But there is a queue at the gate, I’m afraid.”
“Well just go through them, that’s a good lad.” The driver sighed, and waited.

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