Mun Note: This is a canon transcription word for word, because I mean to make headcanons off it eventually. For now however suffice it to say it was this monologue that created the entire arc for author!Abigail and that this flow is very much how her books read. There is something intimate and soft about her writing, which I imagine is what makes them so popular.
Last night was the first of my journey home. Still, my dreams are haunted by the faces of those pirates that first captured me. Now I find myself in the custody of another band of pirates. I’m told they’re different – and I will say that so far these men have treated me civilly, even courteously.
They’ve even afforded me the tools to keep this journal, and though they will almost certainly destroy these pages before we disembark, eliminating any record of their activities or their identities, just the act of putting my thoughts to paper has helped me feel myself again. To construct for myself an illusion, that I’m still on the Good Fortune, nearing the end of a long voyage. Recent events were themselves the nightmare, and that these men are simply sailors, tasked with delivering me home.
But it is only an illusion, and a fragile one at that.
My father’s told me about these men, about their natures. So I know that, any appearance of civility from them is but a glimpse of the men they once were – a ghost, that shows itself only while the darker things that now govern their souls lay dormant. Though I am forced to wonder, if this illusion is no accident at all.
Theatre, for my benefit, orchestrated by someone so awful, even monsters such as these have no choice but to dance for the tune he plays for them.
Which leads me to the one thought I find most frightening and most difficult to dismiss. What happens when that man decides the theatre no longer serves his purposes, and he lets the monsters loose?
[ After Nicholas Irvin is murdered cause buddy thought Silver gave him a “look” ]
From across an ocean, it is hard to know what a New World is. All I knew, were the stories I was told, of monsters and valiant men sworn to slay them. But now that I’ve nearly traversed the ocean that separates new world from old, I fear the stories I’ve heard may have clouded the truth more than clarified it. [ later edited ]
It would seem these monsters – are men. Sons, brothers, fathers. And it would seem these men fear their own monsters. An empire, a Navy, a king. My father.
So much I’ve left behind me. London, my youth, and comfortable stories. So much lies ahead in Charlestown. A future and harder truths. I feel I must face it honestly, bravely. I must face it as my father’s daughter. And I believe that in order to do that, I have to tell these people that which I’ve kept from them. I have to tell them what I know.
[ Edited Version ]
I fear the stories I’ve heard may have clouded the truth more than clarified it. And as so many of these stories were relayed to me by my father, I am forced to wonder if he is mistaken, or if his motives are something more deliberate than that. I fear the stories I carry with me are my sole comfort. From across an ocean, it is hard to know what a New World is. All I knew, were the stories I was told, of monsters and valiant men sworn to slay them.
Ocean Archive 
