Admiral James Norrington (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
abidinglaw) wrote2011-06-07 10:42 am
abidinglaw) wrote2011-06-07 10:42 am
[voice] it had been strange, even in a dream
[While over the past few days the draft has been threatening the lives of cast-mates and strangers and acquaintances alike Admiral Norrington has been fighting a battle of his own. He chose the evening of the fourth to investigate the purpose of that odd little bump on his wall. Flick.
At once he murmured a quick curse to himself and spun around. All alone in his apartment he stepped back and drew his sword. There was no-one at the door, of course, no army of pranksters could have simultaneously lit up each and every one of the candles on all the tables and counters in the room. The light was coming from above. He narrowed his eyes at the brilliant bulb and tentatively flicked the light-switch back with the tip of his blade. Darkness. Light. Darkness. Light.
It was quite enough excitement for one evening.
On the morning of the fifth he tried all of the lights in his apartment, and then a few on the landing outside. Buoyed by his success, he then investigated the electrical devices in his residence and the kitchen beyond - strange boxes with nobs and things which he had ignored up until now. Unlike the light these made horrendous droning noises, or else they glowed in unearthly shades of red and gave off uncanny amounts of heat. He aborted his efforts for fear of them.
Today he sits at a table in the kitchen and opens his journal.]
Might I request that someone explain by what force the light above my head is being generated? And, since I hardly believe that mine are the only quarters to be granted them, what on earth is the function of all of these peculiar boxes?
At once he murmured a quick curse to himself and spun around. All alone in his apartment he stepped back and drew his sword. There was no-one at the door, of course, no army of pranksters could have simultaneously lit up each and every one of the candles on all the tables and counters in the room. The light was coming from above. He narrowed his eyes at the brilliant bulb and tentatively flicked the light-switch back with the tip of his blade. Darkness. Light. Darkness. Light.
It was quite enough excitement for one evening.
On the morning of the fifth he tried all of the lights in his apartment, and then a few on the landing outside. Buoyed by his success, he then investigated the electrical devices in his residence and the kitchen beyond - strange boxes with nobs and things which he had ignored up until now. Unlike the light these made horrendous droning noises, or else they glowed in unearthly shades of red and gave off uncanny amounts of heat. He aborted his efforts for fear of them.
Today he sits at a table in the kitchen and opens his journal.]
Might I request that someone explain by what force the light above my head is being generated? And, since I hardly believe that mine are the only quarters to be granted them, what on earth is the function of all of these peculiar boxes?
voice
[He hasn't heard this kinda reaction over the journals in a while.]
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Others... Well, I've heard a few of them get shocked by messing with power outlets. Electricity can power machines, but it's not something you wanna mess with.
no subject
[Though he can well imagine the pirate sticking his tongue in an 'outlet'. Giving it a good long lick. Ugh. Degenerate fool.]
Is it volatile, then? This electricity?
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject