(a few hours into the Jaunt, open broadcast)

[protect_and_serve]

[Joscelin's voice, sent across the network, is warm, dry, composed - instilled with enough confidence, he hopes, to reassure the new and uncertain.]

A calm beginning makes for a welcome change. We should still start sharing what we know. Who's with us, and who is missing? Who is infiltrating? What do we know about this world?

If this is your first Jaunt - and there were many new faces in Liminal Space - ask for assistance, and we'll give it.

I'll begin. This is Joscelin Verreuil. We're on the coast of an island, somewhere between Alba and Terre D'Ange- England and France, I think, locally. Magic of some sort appears to be open and commonplace. I can't make sense of their calendar, but we're in or just after the Twentieth Century, as.... Christians... reckon time. This is a port where foreigners are common and unremarked. I have clothes that fit the era, and in my pockets were ten five-pound notes. The Trumps don't mean for us to be spotted immediately, or starve, but I can't guess more than that.

Comments

[howexciting]

No, nothing. I'm fine.

[No. No he's not. But he's not going to talk about it on the Network. Not where people can hear.]

[theanguissette]

[a moment of silence.]

I am not. If you've a moment or twenty, I could use your help. Shall I to you, or you to me?

[She's only mostly lying. She is lost and confused in this place that is so different from anywhere else she's ever been...and she is worried for him.]

[howexciting]

Where are you, Contessa?

[Phèdre will not come to him. He will come to her, always. He will always strive to help her in her time of need.]

[theanguissette]

Well...Therein lies the problem. I...Am not entirely sure.

The streets seem to be laid out in...some sort of grid-like pattern, but I have no frame of reference....

Ah, one of the locals has made contact with me...I will try to ascertain where, exactly, I am...

[howexciting]

If you are near a corner, that is, where two streets intersect, look for poles with signs that are parallel to each street. If you find one, read it to me. This should be similar to your Alba, sì?

[theanguissette]

One side says "Second" and the other "Main."

Psychic -> Action?

[howexciting]

I will be there.

[And sure enough, not fifteen minutes have passed before Leonardo rounds the corner, spotting her and heading directly for her.]

Re: Psychic -> Action?

[theanguissette]

[ She breathes a sigh of relief, rushing to him and taking his hands, moving gracefully even in the killer heels that the Trumps have seen fit to dress her in. She kisses his face in greeting, and a tension relaxes in her shoulders. ]

Joscelin said that there are maps to be found? On a device known as a 'phone'?

[howexciting]

[He's so used to D'Angeline forms of greeting now that he easily returns it.]

Well, I... I wouldn't know about that. [None of them really have need for "phones" when they can psychically speak to each other.] But I did see a tourism office on my way here. Perhaps they might have something?

[theanguissette]

A genius, as ever, my friend. [ She smiles warmly, more relieved than he will probably guess at no longer being alone here. She tucks her hand into the crook of his arm, now more ready to face whatever game the Trumps have decided to have them play. ]

[howexciting]

[Leonardo actually seems a little happy at the praise, despite his immediate humbling smile and shake of his head. But now is not the time to debate such things; they really must find out where to go.

So he gently takes her arm, pressing his hand warmly over hers, before leading her to the tourism bureau.]