Arthur shrugged. “Stuff and nonsense,” he said, but Lula shook her head, vehemently.
“The stone has been nothing but trouble since it came out of the ground. It was mined out west, and it left a trail of death and tragedy all the way to York! Poor Lady Hamilton lost her son and daughter in a fire, and I heard the man who mined it out was crippled in a collapse!”
“I heard about the first. They caught the fever as I recall. Certainly tragic, but hardly supernatural. As for mining, it’s a dangerous profession.” He was a serious man.
The Voyage 032: Arthur
June 11, 2015
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The Voyage 031: Lula
June 10, 2015
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Lula watched the man get up, rattle the door, and pace the aisle of the windowless room. “Poor sod,” she whispered to her traveling companion, her cousin Hedwig “Still I’d rather be locked safe in here than down at the bottom of the ship with that thing.” Her mouth twisted like a corkscrew at the last word. “Whatever are you talking about?” she asked. “I saw her coming aboard. The Lady Hamilton and her granddaughter. I bet you anything they brought that cursed jewel of theirs with them!” “Cursed jewel?” A man behind them interrupted. “The Wendigo Diamond, of course!” Start from the beginning! Support Hugh on Patreon!
The Voyage 030: Raymond
June 9, 2015
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Raymond sat in his seat and scowled at his weak tea. He hated the voyage already and they had barely left the ground. He could feel the massive turbines spinning through the thin plates of the deck and up his feet. The vibration was driving him mad. He had to get out for a bit of air. The little theatre was too close, too full. Even if he wasn’t a rich man, he refused to travel to England packed in like a canned sardine. He drained the tin cup and rose. When he reached the door he found it locked.
The Voyage 029: Magda
June 8, 2015
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Magda thought of The Indomitable as a sort of colossal, unpleasant sandwich. All of the beautiful parts were either on the top or the bottom. Above her there was the majestic bulk of the envelope. Below were the first class accommodations of polished metal and spotless glass.
She was here in the middle, serving watery tea and biscuits in the Third Class Sitting Room. The low, windowless room somewhat resembled a theatre, which it occasionally became in the evenings. The First Class passengers had the run of their decks, but the cheaper births were confined during ascension, ‘for their safety.’
A mini-hiatus
May 31, 2015
Hey everyone!
This is just a quick note to update you on some things that are going on with me, and to let you know that I’ll be taking a hiatus this week from “The Voyage.” It’s not very long, just a week, but Balticon completely torpedoed my work schedule the last few weeks, and I’ve burned through all of my backlog. Balticon was as always an amazing time, and I was glad I could bring P-Tone along with me for his first trip. But conventions require a lot of preparations, and they leave me exhausted. I think I’m just about back to strength, but I don’t want to rush out bad writing.
The “140 Character” stories are meant to be experimental and short, but I don’t want to rush through, or put out something I’m not proud of to meet a deadline. So I’m taking the week off to plot out the rest of the story and get it back on track. I’m also cutting up the recordings we made at the con, the first of which went live yesterday at The Way of the Buffalo. I’m also working on some new stuff I think you’ll enjoy. But I need to catch my breath and get everything in order first.
“The Voyage” will resume on June 7th. Thank you for your understanding and patience.
The Voyage 028: Lucien
May 31, 2015
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The girl looked at him like he was an insect she’d found in her flute of champagne.
“Perpetually,” she said. She didn’t upset by this.
Lucien found this intolerable. Women were soft, vulnerable creatures He couldn’t bear to see one like her, solitary, independent and standing apart. It was a waste.
“How tragic.” He said, and sipped his own drink. “You are surely in need of a knight to protect you.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, looping her arm through the safety strap. The ship bumped, and Lucien spilled his drink across his shirt and face as he stumbled.
The Voyage 027: Garnet
May 30, 2015
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An elegantly dressed woman sauntered over and took a glass of champagne. She barely looked at it, or him. The bubbly was merely ceremonial, in any case. It was barely morning, after all. But the transatlantic voyage took six days, and this was a part of beginning properly. She stood to one side as Trevor bustled about, taking glasses. She seemed to be taking in the guests as much as the view from behind smoke-lensed glasses. A man, in his forties and thus at least a decade older than her, leaned in close.
“Are you here alone?” he asked
The Voyage 026: Clyde
May 29, 2015
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Clyde poured champagne and watched the upper crust file in. It was nearly cosmopolitan mix of those who earned their fortunes through the blood and sweat of their employees’ brows and those who inherited their money. They all looked so carefree in their finery, spending their money, but he could see that they merely wore masks.
Bartenders like him knew the truth, usually after the third or fourth double. Men were destroyed by money and power, and it did worse to women. Every one of them was doomed to despair. And before The HMS Indomitable landed, he’d hear their stories.
The Voyage 025: Etta
May 28, 2015
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As she slid demurely into the room behind the first-class passengers, Etta allowed herself a hint of a smile. It was satisfying to see Lord Wentworth jam his cigar case back into his jacket pocket. Solid gold, of course.
Her smile faded when she noticed him admire the curves of her dress while his wife was taken in by the view. Wentworth had expensive taste, but he liked to slum it when he philandered. She sat primly at the piano and began a concerto for launch.
She prayed Trevor would keep the Lord occupied. She’d deal with him later.
The Voyage 024: Horace
May 27, 2015
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“I’m sorry dear,” his wife said as Lord Horace guided her gently by the elbow to one of the blue velvet sofas. Not for the first time, he regretted his marriage to the younger woman. The girl was certainly a beauty, but she was flighty, and two years into their relationship still hadn’t produced him an heir. His third marriage was shaping up to be as fruitless as the others. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket for a cigar. The servant put a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m afraid there is no smoking in the lounge, sir”
Hugh J. O'Donnell 