1 [@necromantica:video]

[burntbridges]

[Letha's confusion over this new technology is clear from the first moment of the video. She's turned on the camera facing away from her, showing her desk full of neatly organized piles of paper, all forms with neat cursive scrawled across them. The angle is skewed, camera shaky, and she keeps moving it as she tries to figure out the device.]

There's absolutely nothing like this in my world...

[Sure, she'd tried very hard to follow the orientation instructions, but she's handling it much like a grandmother with her first smartphone. She finally gets it turned around, but that just gives viewers a worm's eye view of her shocked face as she sees the unflattering angle and turns it back around to her desk.]

If only I could write on these, it would be so much simpler. Well, anyway. Can anyone hear me? I thought it might be prudent to contact this 'network'... and see if anyone who understands these... inventions better than me could lend me a hand.

[Go easy on her, she's never even seen a telephone or typewriter before.]

Comments

[inthemoonlight]

[ Cecelia smiles back. It's strange to not see the face of the person she's addressing, but she can hear that Letha is pleased. ]

Did you? I am afraid I've not heard the name Letha before, but it sounds lovely. Are you a Miss or Mrs Regis?

[burntbridges]

Mrs, although my husband isn't around in this reality. At least not as far as I know.

[That, and she's dead so they technically aren't married anymore. But both of them tend to ignore that fact.]

And you? Do you have a husband?

[inthemoonlight]

I did, yes. Sadly, he passed away.

[ And her life sort of fell apart after that from the rumors and suspicions alone, hence why she appeared here. ]

I would be more concerned with being here had I left him behind, but there is nothing really tying me to home any longer.

[burntbridges]

I can relate. As much as I'd like to return to my world... all that's waiting for me there is my inevitable disappearance from history.

[She has a somber voice, but after a pause she cheers right back up.]

I'm sure that doesn't matter much, though. We're here now, by whatever magic brought us here. And I intend very much to stay alive here.

[inthemoonlight]

Goodness! That sounds serious, if you do not mind my saying so.

[ Staying alive here? Very serious, it seems! Perhaps it's not proper to delve any deeper, but, well Letha did bring it up. ]

Are things really so awful at home that your life is at risk?

[burntbridges]

[That gets a quiet laugh out of her.]

Oh, no. I had already lost my life back home. A long time ago. But... for various complicated reasons I was in danger of losing my existence instead. That's much more important in my opinion.

[inthemoonlight]

I... see.

[ No, she doesn't see. Is this some kind of metaphor? Surely it must be because how can someone lose their life and yet be here talking to her? Ghosts don't exist. ]

I shan't press you to speak of complicated matters. It sounds very... involved. Perhaps we should bond over this strange world instead. Or strange moon? Is it a world because we live upon it, or still a moon?

[burntbridges]

Well, I suppose that's up to interpretation. Everything is only what one decides to call it. And in that case, we may as well call it a world.

[While they're speaking, she finally manages to prop up her tablet in a way that shows her at a flattering angle.]

There we go... is this crooked at all?

[inthemoonlight]

Oh, not at all! You look quite centered. Hello again.

[burntbridges]

Hello!

[She waves politely, still looking nervous with the whole set-up. Now that she can step back from the camera, Cecelia will be able to notice that despite her old-fashioned clothing she's not wearing a corset - in fact, she's wearing an adjustable dress. Hmm.]

If you don't mind me asking, what year do you remember it being back in your world? You're the only person I've met who seems to come from a similar life.

[inthemoonlight]

[ Hmm, that is something surprising, but politeness means she's not going to say anything about it. ]

It was eighteen hundred and fifteen, A.D. And what about for you?

[burntbridges]

1853. Or... perhaps 1854, one loses track of time. [She brightens up at that, with a cheerful little giggle.] My mother was born in 1815. That would make you... the same age as my grandmothers.

[It makes her wonder if her grandmothers were anywhere near as nice at Cecelia's age. They definitely weren't when Letha was alive.]

[inthemoonlight]

Indeed?

[ She sounds rather intrigued by this, thinking of women she knew back home. Or knew of, since she was hardly sociable. ]

Tell me, if you please: who sits on the throne in 1853 or 1854?

[burntbridges]

[This takes her a bit to think over... the politics of the outside world rarely affects the citizens of Thornwell.]

Queen Victoria, I think. I only ever hear people speak of her as 'the Queen', though.

[inthemoonlight]

Oh? Goodness, is that Queen Charlotte's daughter, I wonder?

[ Because surely Princess Charlotte won't die in childbirth leading to a succession crisis and the sons of George III scrambling to marry and have legitimate heirs, right? ]

But how lovely. A Queen Regent! There hasn't been one since Queen Anne.

[burntbridges]

I wouldn't know. The Regis are nobles, but we leave any political dealings to our elders. My grandmother could tell you more about the throne than I or any of my cousins could.

[Politics are complicated, she just wanted to raise zombies and make fun of her husband in front of his friends.]

[inthemoonlight]

How unusual. If I may make an assumption, it sounds like you come from a different England than I do. What were they called? Alternate something or others.

[burntbridges]

I think you might be right... I don't think anyone here is from my exact England.

[At least, she likes to think if anyone was from her world they would recognize the name of Regis.]

Tell me, does your world have magic? Mine has a lot of it.

[inthemoonlight]

Magic? No, I cannot say it does.

[ Though being a werewolf is hardly normal. It's called a curse; does that mean a witch casted it? She's thought about this in the past, but she's never seen any other signs of magical beings. ]

But you mean magic like in stories? Fairies and witches and that sort of thing?

[burntbridges]

I don't think so... but I think the stories must be different in my world, if everything else is.

In my world there are many magicians - that's what we call people who use magic. Most of my family are necromancers, but I know other types of magicians exist. I've just never met them.

[inthemoonlight]

My, this all sounds completely new to me! What are necromancers?

[burntbridges]

[A positive reaction! Sort of. She gets a smile on her face as she explains.]

Necromancers deal with contacting the dead after their passing. We can speak to the deceased and translate for their loved ones. We can animate their bodies as well, but I think it's best to ask permission first. Otherwise the owner of the body might chew your ear off.

[Much as she loves the company of the dead, she doesn't envy her cousin the undertaker. The dead are no fun when they're criticizing one's ability to dress their body.]

[inthemoonlight]

[ Now that is strange! And a little terrifying. Her eyes widen and she takes a moment to swallow before speaking. ]

How does such a thing work? Does the soul not ascend to Heaven in your world?

[burntbridges]

Well... I can't say I know what 'heaven' is, so I suppose not. In my world all souls descend to the Netherworld, which is a little bit lower than the sea of dreams. They can hear anything that happens near their corpse, should they choose to, but no one can hear them without necromantic training. That is, we learn to die temporarily so that we may have a connection with the Netherworld, and that lets us hear the dead.

[inthemoonlight]

Oh. [ She looks a little pale. ] Forgive me, I-- I need a moment to-- understand all this.

[ In a morbid sort of way, she gets it. Gothic novels are extremely popular reading for ladies, and they're full of dark, terrible things done in dark, terrible places. The word corpse might make some ladies from her world faint dead away, but she can at least tolerate it. Maybe the fact she transforms into a feral beast once a month makes this all easier to swallow.

After closing her eyes for a moment and drawing in a measured breath, she opens her eyes. ]

Goodness, that is nothing like home. I am sorry, but we are taught the Lord created everything in the universe. To hear of a place without Heaven or Him is... startling.

[ But she's also morbidly curious to learn more. It's like being unable to put down one of those novels. ]

Could you explain about the, ah, the corpses? Where I come from, we bury them in the ground. Do you preserve them, so the soul can easily hear what is said around their body?

[ She hasn't even gotten to the temporarily die part. Give her a minute. ]