The School O'Crossbones

Billie-Jean's Log - Day 1 - Part 9 - The Sorting Quest

Crewmate of Blue Peter, The S.S. Hillenburg

My experience of the Sorting Quest was not at all what I'd call pleasant to begin with. As I stood among the beach facing the BottleShip, all I could see is everyone else scrambling to the row boats or swimming across the small pool to make their destination aboard The Alienated AntFarm.

However for me, my main priority was looking for my friend Ricardo Basco, this was difficult due to the high volume of students who present to brave The Sorting Quest.

Then to my dismay, I saw Ricardo swimming towards the Ship. He...was the only other student I truly knew and now I don't know on how I would find another partner.

I would have followed him if it was not for the fact that I....cannot swim. I never had to chance to learn properly.

The only time I have ever swam was when my dormitory in the orphanage became flooded. Such memories fill me with dread, the thought of almost drowning and feeling helpless.

I never want to feel that way again. Yet I could see the irony in my situation, feeling helpless to swim alone, not knowing anyone who could let me have a space on their rowboat.

My options seem limited.

So to calm myself down and centre myself, I made the decision to sketch my environment. I suppose it was a way to take control of my situation.

Although my main hope was that I showed someone else what I was witnessing maybe they could be sympathetic to my plight?

As you can see I have done my best to detail my situation. I will admit that my drawing skills are not up to an illustrator's standard. It will certainly be a skill that I will be working beyond this sorting quest.

Luckily, I was able to locate my friend Ricardo within the deluge of swimming students, through the mere power of his voice alone.

He shouted out something akin to "MY SOCKS!" In a rather perturbed fashion. While it was puzzling as to why he would yell out about such a subject, I could imagine that it might be about the loss of his socks or perhaps the drenching of his socks. I myself have gone through the ordeal of having wet socks so I can empathize with his unfortunate discomfort. I do hope that he will be alright eventually.

However whilst I was sketching and worrying about my friend, someone approached me...

I still remember my first impressions of her. She was reflectively tall with wavy curly hair, blonde as fresh wheat. Her clothes were reminiscent of the pirate dandy, her coat was riddled with what appeared to be golden accents and buttons as well as gemstones to complement the cuffs and lining of her coat. She had a massive tricorne hat with a wide brim along with a wide golden feather protruding out, that looked similar to the hats The Three Musketeers would wear. Her face was an artistic canvas with her bright red lipstick, blue eyeshadow and black eyeliner popping out of her porcelain white skin. Her clothing would suggest she was a swashbuckling adventurer from the pages of a Robert Louis Stevenson novel but how she carried herself, it was if she was a noblewoman written by Jane Austen herself.

Her sudden appearance was humbling and dare I say, it made me a tad uncomfortable but I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"So what are you doing? Shouldn't you be heading to The AlienAnt Farm?" She questioned me curiously. I noticed that her accent sounded American. It confirmed my initial suspicion that the Bottled Messages went to not Britain alone.

"Can't you swim? Don't you have a boat?" Her questioning started to sound more like an interrogation.

I answered in the best way that I could. "I-I-I was just drawing, I'm tryi-" before I could finish, I was interrupted by her once again.