[At first there's nothing before ( a doodle )

slowly starts to appear in the corner of the paper. Hector's not going to be winning any art contests, and it's clearly a thing that's from memory as there are slight hesitations here and there as it takes shape, but finally when it's done, the silence stretches, and at first...That seems to be it. That's the entry.

But only because he's really, really loathe to ask you lot a damn thing.]

Color me...Stupidly curious, but given what's going on at the moment, I don't suppose anyone's clapped their eyes on a bit of shine as looks like that, have they.

[Because considering what he's heard over this stupid journal, that is a distinct and worrisome possibility.]

Yo-ho, yo-ho and all that piratey bullshit. Getting that aside, how does one volunteer themselves for a crew? I'm already good to go. Not a sailor, but anybody willing to take me will get a hard-working, quick-learning gal looking for a way to get the hell out of here.

Is that enough of a resumé?

Seriously, though. This island is not a place I want to stay. I'm definitely willing to work and I could use some friendly acquaintances or good conversation while I work on getting my bearings. All takers should respond here directly and/or include crude doodles at your own childish discretion.

[ ooc: Please take a look at Misha's permissions, too! ]