Subject: Summer 1999 D&D Cartoon On-Line Fan Club Newsletter, Part 6
Date: Sat, 19 Jun 1999 12:23:23 EDT

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Okay, here's the scoop: I did not get a four year degree in The Exact
Diagnostics, Machanics, and Blueprints of Titanic -- therefore, please be
sure to chalk up any and all inaccuracies of the ship's description and/or
fictional passengers in this totally fictional story to artistic license
(hey, a certain "King of the World" did it, and he won an Oscar for it.  So
there!)  This story is inspired by the storyline of that wonderful
aforementioned movie (sorry, though, no mysteries of a blue diamond necklace
or evil fiancees named Cal are in this one).  This story is rated PG right
now (it will be PG 13 in the later scarier parts when the ship sinks). So,
without further ado, here is Part 1 of
D&D ELSEWORLDS: Ship of Dreams
by Amy Elizabeth Hodman

SHEILA MacGregor squinted up at the afternoon sun as she stepped from the
livery car, pulling the edge of her purple and white hat down to cover the
glare from her eyes.  She whirled around as she felt her younger brother bump
into her.
"Bobby, look where you're going," Sheila snapped at him as she picked up the
small wooden chest off of the car seat next to her.
"What's eatin' you?" the freckle-faced blond boy frowned at her.
"Bobby, if Mother hears you talking slang like that, she's going to yank you
out of that school you go to and send you away to a boys' boarding academy."
Sheila wrinkled her nose at her brother.
"Well," Bobby finished unremorsefully, "if she isn't here she can't hear it."
 With that, he stuck out his tongue at her and raced towards the ship's entry
plank.  "Golly this is something else!"
"Sheila?" a voice behing her made her jump.  She turned to see her mother,
the lithe and elegant Claire MacGregor, handing her a small hat box.  "Be a
love and carry this for me.  Gwyneth has my travel case and I'm afraid I will
damage my crystal if I load up too much."
Sheila fought the urge to roll her eyes at her mother's melodramatic
behavior.  The crystal piece she spoke of was in a small box no bigger than
her hand.  Sheila merely nodded at her mother and took the small box, placing
it gingerly on top of her own.
Michael MacGregor, Sheila's father, bounded from the livery car, holding the
brim of his dapper hat as he looked up at the ship.  "What a glorious way to
end our European jaunt!" he smiled, walking up behind Bobby and patting his
son on the back affectionately.  "What do you say we go up and take a look
around?"
Bobby grinned from ear to ear as he took his father's hand.  Sheila followed
them slowly as she looked up at the ship that would carry them home.
Titanic.  Every person within earshot was mentioning the word in some way,
shape or form.  Sheila winced.  Big deal.  It was just another ship.  It
certainly wasn't going to change her life at all.
Sheila sighed as she turned behind to look at her mother, who was walking
confidently with her treasure as her maid Gwyneth struggled behing her with
the large travel case and the umbrella she was carrying over her mother's
head to protect her from the sun.  If I ever become like that, Sheila though
as she turned away from her mother and faced forward again, I certainly hope
someone comes along and puts me out of my misery.
Sheila shuddered at the thought as she stepped across the bouncy wooden plank
that led up to the first class opening.  She was certainly very much in
danger of becoming exactly like her mother, at least, if her mother and
father had their way.
Sheila shook her head, focusing her attention on the small box she was
carrying, and managed a smile.  No matter what dreadful things happened once
they arrived home, at least she had gotten one saving grace from this whole
excursion.

*

"Father, there is no need for all of this, really," the exotic young woman
protested as two guards stepped in front of her as she tried to make her way
up the gangplank.
"You are royalty, my dearest," the bearded man said as he shook his head.
"It is something you must get used to.  It is of utmost importance that you
stay as safe as possible at all times."
"Father," she said.  "I do not have any guards with me while I am at school
in Provence, I see no need for any protection when we are going into the
first class portion of the most elegant ship in the world."
"Diana, you are as stubborn as your mother was," her father -- King Mioh --
chuckled as he shook his head.  "Very well, you win this round of battle."
The king turned to the guards and waved his hand in a taut manner.  The men
immediately scrambled behind him.
"After you, my dearest," he smiled.
Diana grinned at her father as she gathered up her skirt and began to walk up
the gangplank.  As she stepped into the ship, Diana was well aware of the
dozens of pairs of eyes that were on her and, more specifically, the gilded
crown that sat atop her head.  As her father stepped up behind her, the two
stewards at the door bowed deeply.
"Your Majesty," a official-looking man with a white beard said as he
approached them, "it is truly an honor for me to have both you and your
daughter on my ship."
"Thank you Captain," King Mioh smiled.  "I must say I am quite impressed with
your ship.  It is truly a wonder."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," the Captain smiled.  "I hope you and your daughter
enjoy the ship and your voyage.  If you need anything from us, just let us
know and we will be..."
Mioh held up his hand and shook his head. "Thank you Captain, but there is
truly no need to worry about us.  As you can see," he smiled as he gestured
to the twenty-odd guards and servants bustling behind them, "we will be more
than adequately looked after. We would not wish to distract you and your men
from the operation of the ship."
Diana looked up demurely at this last part of her father's comment, and
caught two of the younger crewmen's eyes as they gazed approvingly at her,
and fought a smile as she watched them reddening in embarrassment.  No matter
where she and her father went, she could never escape anyone's attention.
Diana breathed deeply.  Much as she enjoyed men's appreciation of her outward
beauty and her grand title, Diana coveted more in her life than to just be a
trophy in her father's kingdom.  She sighed as she turned away from her
father and the captain, busying herself with the inventory of her bags and
belongings.   How nice it would be to still be anonymous, like she had been
in Provence!  There she was just another student, treated the same as the
rest of the young ladies of wealthy European families who attended the
school.  There Diana knew she was judged by both classmates and teachers as
an equal, and valued for her quick wit and quick mind, not her title or her
exotic looks.  Diana turned and looked at her father, who was smiling broadly
as he met some of the various other first class male passengers, who offered
him cigars and laughed as they talked about the events of the world and all
their various millions.
"Father?" Diana questioned, walking towards him.
"Yes, my dear?" he turned to face her.
"I think I will head to our quarters and begin to unpack," she said, "if that
is alright with you."
"Of course, my dear," he smiled.  "Do not stay long, though, we have been
invited to take in some resfreshments after the departure with Mr. Montgomery
and his son Eric."  He motioned to them both, and Diana nodded and both of
them.  The younger man, Eric, fastened his eyes intently on Diana.
"It is my honor to make your acquaintance, your Highness," Eric said, bowing
deeply at the waist and sweeping her small hand in his.  As he turned up to
face her, he kissed her hand lightly.
"I assure you, the pleasure is mine," Diana said, albiet a bit flatly.  She
was rather aggravated at this person's forwardness.  She looked at her
father, hoping he might say something or register a similar emotion to the
American boy's bold action.  As had been the usual of late, however, he
seemed oblivious to Diana's discomfort.
"Mr. Montgomery is one of the men who heads up the Industrial Council," her
father continued approvingly.  "He has some ideas to help ours at home as
well."
Diana nodded.  How fascinating, she thought derisively.  She bit her lips to
stop the actual words from coming out.  Instead she placed her hand on her
father's arm.
"I best be going, Father.  There is a lot to be done."  With that, she turned
and nodded at the elder Mr. Montgomery, not regarding at the younger Mr.
Montgomery at all.  "It was a pleasure to meet you."
After the older man -- and Eric -- both bowed at her, Diana turned on her
heel and walked as quickly away from them as etiquette would allow.  She
stopped briefly to acknowledge a young woman standing with her belongings.
"Emma, please make sure the servants bring these to my room as soon as
possible," Diana finished as she picked up a small bag containing some of her
favorite books, brought along to pass the time during the long voyage.
Emma nodded at her, waving some of the servants over and pointing to the bags.
With a quick glance behind her, Diana started down the first class hallway.
She breathed a sigh of relief.  The young man was not following her.  She
turned forward and shook her head.  Now more than ever Diana wished she could
escape from the life her father seemed to have planned for her.  Her father,
ever the modern ruler, knew that without technology and development, their
small country had no chance of survival or success in the century ahead, and
with every day that passed, Diana feared that she might be the pawn in
ensuring the success of his plans.
Diana shuddered as she glanced up at the doors to her right, frantically
searching for her suite number.  Married to some pompous American just
because he was to inherit some wondrous technology or industry company
someday seemed like the worst nightmare in the world to Diana.  She could
never...
THUD!
Diana suddenly fell to the ground, holding a hand to her head as she looked
up at what she had just run into.  A red-headed girl wearing a deep violet
dress had also fallen to the floor, looking equally stunned.
The girl started to pick up Diana's books, then looked up at her, horror
reflected in her eyes as she saw Diana's crown and realized who she was.
"Oh, I am so, so sorry!!" the girl said, shoving Diana's books back into the
bag and handing them to her.  "I'm afraid I wasn't watching where I was
going. Please accept my most profound apolgies."
Diana couldn't help but smile at the overeager girl, who leaned over and
picked up a small box she was carrying.  "It is quite alright, I was not
watching where I was going either."
The girl's face eased a bit at Diana's comment.  "I could see why.  Romeo and
Juliet is a book one could get lost in for days on end." She motioned to
Diana's bag.
Diana's face brightened.  "You are a reader of Shakespeare as well?"
"Most certainly, yes," the girl smiled.  "I am quite the fan of books from
that time period -- and earlier."  She opened the box she was carrying, and
Diana smiled in admiration as she looked at its contents.  "How wonderful!"
she exclaimed.  "Where did you find these?"
The girl started to speak until a shrill voice began to call behind her.
"Sheila?  Get back here at once!  I cannot find my Chanel!  Have you taken
it?"
"I'm sorry," she finished.  "That's me, I have to go."
Diana reached out and placed her hand on the girl -- Sheila's -- arm.  "Will
you meet with me for tea later on, after the departure?  I would love to have
someone to speak with about all things literary, and I must find out where
you acquired those treasures you have."
"It would be my pleasure," Sheila nodded at her.  As the red-headed girl
strode back down the hallway, Diana smiled.  At least there would be one
person she could talk to on this dreadful boat.

*

"I quite say that she fancied you, boy," James Montgomery puffed as he patted
his son on the back, his perfectly-shined shoes tapping on the wooden outside
deck beneath their feet.  "Marrying a princess, what a grand achievement that
would be."
Eric squinted from the piercing light of  the bright English sun as he nodded
and looked at his father.  Diana certainly was a vision, that was for
certain.  He smiled to himself as his father lit a cigar.  And he'd certainly
poured on the impossible-to-resist, legendary Montgomery charm.  The princess
could be short of nothing but smitten with him.  Eric titled his head in
thought.  But was he smitten with her?
Eric gulped down his anxiety as his father took a puff of his cigar.  On the
outside, Eric was everything a young man groomed for great things should be
-- confident, intelligent, and assured. But on the inside, Eric was always
questioning the things his father seemed to have planned for him.  Like
running the business.  And in this case, choosing the best wife.
Eric frowned as he thought back to his meeting with the princess.  Perhaps
he'd poured on TOO much of the charm.  It was something that just seemed to
happen when he was put in a situation his father expected of him and that he
himself questioned inside.  Eric half-smirked as he looked back at his
father, who was ignoring him and waving to another business associate he
spotted at the end of the long outside deck.
"There's no such thing as pompousness in our family, Eric," his father had
once told him.  "We merely act as the leaders we are and always have been."
Eric did not know what was worse -- the fact that his father had said that
and truly believed it, or that Eric was starting to act as if it were true.

*

"Come on, boyo!" the lean blond young man called back to his friend, who was
struggling through the crowds milling near the third-class entrance.  "We'll
out and out miss the boat if you don't get a move on."
The gangly auburn haired young man struggling behind him fumbled with the bag
slung over his shoulder, almost knocking the worn spectacles off his face.
"Irishmen built this boat, Hank, and seeing as we're both half-Irish, I say
it increases out luck of makin' it on the ship by 50 percent."
"Hopefully the luck of the English half of us'll pull through the rest of the
way, then," the blond man, Hank, grinned back at his friend.  "'Scuse us,
please, coming through," he said as he pushed through the crowd.  "Get a move
on it, Preston."
Preston silently muttered some curses at his friend as he pushed through the
crowds with every ounce of strength in his wiry frame.  "Hank's in such a
hurry", he muttered to himself.  "It's not as if the bloody boat's gonna
leave early."
Hank turned around as he reached the third-class gangplank.  "What was that
Preston?"
"Nothing," Preston said as he stumbled through the remains of the crowd to
meet up with his friend.
Hank turned back and looked up at the boat, shielding his eyes from the sun.
"It's amazin', isn't it?"
Preston nodded, still trying to catch his breath.  He had to admit the boat
was impressive, and Preston was almost as excited to be going to New York as
Hank was.  Well, almost.  He doubted that he could ever be as eager to put
the events of the past few months behind him as Hank was.
Hank removed their tickets from his jacket pocket and waved at his friend.
"Well, what are we waitin' for?  Let's be off!"
Preston took a deep breath as he stepped up the bouncy wooden gangplank, and
almost ran over a little girl, no more than eight years old, who was
clutching her father's hand.  She turned around and looked up at him and
grinned.
"Hi," she said dreamily in a heavy Liverpool accent.  "I'm Englentine."
Preston nodded at her dismissively.  "Nice to meet you." He turned around to
make sure Hank was still there.  Leave it to his friend to play the worst
kind of joke on him and leave him alone on the boat.
Preston felt a tug at his shirt cuff and looked back down again.  "I'm going
to New York." She smiled wider this time, revealing the space where two front
teeth must have recently fallen out.
"That's wonderful," Preston said.  He pushed his bag back over his other
shoulder and sighed heavily.  They'd been walking all morning with their bags
to get to the boat, as they didn't have enough money to afford the luxury of
a livery to the boat from where they had spent the night.  Preston couldn't
wait to get onto the boat, get rid of his bag, and take a nice long...
"Where are you staying?" the tiny voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Number 5-oh..oof!" Hank finished as Preston jabbed behind him and struck
Hank squarely in the ribs.
Englentine's father, whose curiosity must have gotten the better of him,
turned around to see who his daughter had been talking to.  "Lovely ship,
ain't it?" He smiled at them.
Preston looked down at the little girl and her adoring eyes and sighed.
"It's just terrific." He sighed as he turned around and looked at his
friend's mischevious expression.  Hank was enjoying this far too much.
Preston rolled his eyes to the heavens.  This was going to be a very, very,
VERY long trip.

To be continued in Part 2.......