Dearest Lezleigh-Anne I know not whether this letter will find you, but I’m not going to start a diary because that’s something teenage girls do. I appear to have been Shanghaied, shaven, and been given an elixir transforming me from a weathered fat beardy bloke to a lithe androgynous youth. I have no knowledge of the events that lead to me being here, or where here is, but I find myself on some form of sky bound ship. It’s a bit Blade Runner goes steampunk, but nowhere near as cool as that sounds. And without the rain. Or tall buildings….