Echo Bazaar: Journal for June 26, 1889

It is late that I begin my expanded journal. It’s time I poured my heart into some outside container, that I may retain levity within my own breast to accomplish my Heart’s Desire. Dire times, these are, I am sorry to say.

As my ship rocks back and forth, perhaps lost forever in the Unterzee, I have secluded myself for the time being in the captain’s cabin. Cramped it may be, but somehow I cannot quite stand the sight of the gang of ruffians I affectionately call my crew. Their eyes haunt me, and I wonder if I have led us all astray into lingering death with the meager stores this tramp of a steamer holds. I swear that next time, when I’m again in Fallen London proper, I shall invest (though long it may take) in a pleasure yacht for the comfort of my crew. They have earned some comfort, though it’s through my unearthly charisma that I’ve been able to hold things together.

My constant companion, a celebrated artist’s model whom I love dearly, has been keeping an eye out for any possible mutineers. My quite magnanimous nature, she says in our quiet moments in the cabin, may one day be the death of me. This is depressing to contemplate, though I’ve been known to be ruthless in seeking persuasive means to solving problems. She forgives my indiscretion in the past, particularly at the Dowager Empress’s Court… or, at least, I am given to believe this is so.

How I miss the comforts of my premises at the Bazaar (I shall never be too dry nor too warm again)! How I dream about setting my feet before the fire at the Parthenaeum, listening in on whispered secrets (a Gentleperson of Some Importance such as myself gathers quite a wealth of information on these little opportunities)! Never again shall I take these comforts for granted. Why, when I return, I may immerse myself in obtaining a library. A gentleperson as myself does have standards to keep.

I will note now, for future reference when I may look back upon these times and laugh ironically, the safest way to sail the Unterzee thus far: take opportunities when the sea is calm to move forwards. Learn which situations will lead towards land without being troubled by… the uncertainties of sailing forth across these dark waters. And never, at least until you are well within reach of land, pretend to know how to prowl these depths. Indeed, I wonder if in the future it may be possible that I gain knowledge with enough sailings such that I may forge my own way reliably, without waiting for guidance from Her Majesty’s fleet or for waters so calm that I can see the reflection of the cavey crags reflected below.

She is returning; I hear her footsteps, watchful as I am. You know, I once set out to become a detective, but discovered that I much prefer the social life. Considering my predilection, I wonder if I’ve made the right choice… but there is comfort to be had quite soon now.

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