{Entry One}

[meteorman]

[This is not the first time Ford has found himself a universe away from where he was just a day or so ago, and so all things considered he's taking it in stride. He was certainly smart enough to turn down any sort of employment from a woman calling herself 'Mistress' (I mean, really) and he's not too fazed by the little shack that's afforded him instead of nicer lodgings in the castle. A roof over his head is still a vast step up from most of the universes he's had to crash in. He's even been provided with a handy dandy new journal in which to compile notes on his new locale, and that's exactly what he's decided to do. It's one of his go-to solutions.

Up at the top of the page there is a date, which is crossed out after a few moments of consideration and replaced with words written in neat cursive script:]

Can't start using dates until I have some idea of the local calendar.

I have once again found myself in a world that is very markedly not my own. I wasn't intending to travel any further than the bounds of my own planet ever again but intent means very little in the long run. This would explain quite a lot about the Bermuda Triangle, in retrospect. I wonder why Stanley didn't come through with me?

In terms of similarity to Earth I would rate this new world fairly high. Its technology is clearly more primitive but this can perhaps be explained by the presence of magic, which often renders most 'modern' Earth technology (or equivalent alien technology) pointless.

[There is a very well-rendered sketch of the Mistress off to the left, looking unimpressed as usual.]

THE MISTRESS

The local ruler. She offered me employment and naturally I turned it down in favor of remaining a free agent for the duration of my time here. I would like to think at this point I can spot a raw deal with some degree of accuracy.

[He... he has no idea other people can see this. Either that note wasn't at the start of this book because he arrived long after their dispersal, or he just flat out didn't read it in his haste to start nerding out all over the place. Take your pick.]

Comments

[heiresy]

[Next to the drawing, but not too close (he doesn't want to mar it!) some very practiced, neat and calligraphic handwriting seemingly scrawls itself out. ]

Very nicely done. Are you an artist?

[meteorman]

[WOAH

Oh. Well at least there's a name signed there. That's a good first step toward assuring himself that if there is a curse on this book he can probably exorcise it. Knowing a thing's name tends to come in handy.]

Yes; my chosen area of study often involves describing the fantastic, and visual aids are indispensable.

Are you inhabiting this book? I've never known a spirit to possess a book before but I see no reason it couldn't be theoretically possible.

[heiresy]

[He stares at the page a moment, quill in hand. He starts writing on the opposite page. It would be a shame to get in the way of his writing as it was.]

I inhabit only mine own body, fortunately. I am but a man. I have heard tales of books possessed by voidsent, however. By the Fury's grace I have never tangled with one.

[meteorman]

[Okay. There's a lot to unpack in there, especially those words he doesn't know, and it is very tempting to go off on a wholly unhelpful tangent by asking about them. Focus, Ford, you'll have time later.]

What exactly is a 'voidsent'?

[FORD]

[heiresy]

[He knows he's been told little things here and there on them, but he's certainly not an expert.]

My knowledge of them is rather limited, but as I understand it, they are powerful and hellish monsters that feed on aether.

[dravanicide]

Would I be wrong to assume it was not your intent to share these findings with everyone?

Mayhap a non-magical journal would better suit your needs.

[meteorman]

[What

Another one? So either this book has at least two spirits in it or Something Else (TM) is going on.]

It was not, no. Who do you mean by 'everyone'?

[dravanicide]

Poor fortune for you, then.

I wager the journal was not explained to you.

[Which, doesn't answer the question. Good job Estinien.

The way he jots down his words seems quick and messy, like writing at all is a waste of his time, yet here he is, doing just that.]

[meteorman]

[Well. At least he didn't write down anything he wouldn't be comfortable with someone else reading. Small favors, huh?]

It was not, no. If you would be so kind as to give me an overview?

[ignisvulpes]

Nice art. Good call on the mistress thing.

[He doesn't care if she can see this?? FUCK the Mistress, yo.]

Maybe get something else to write your diary on.
>;)

[meteorman]

Diary isn't the word I would use.

[It's just a diary. It totally is. It's a diary with science in it but it's a diary.]

Though you cannot blame me for assuming a blank book was meant to be written in.

[ignisvulpes]

Hey, you know what they say about assuming.

So who's that Stanley guy? Part of a little duo with you?
Cute.

[meteorman]

[MMMM THAT'S LIKE THE ONE THING HE DIDN'T WANT TO ADDRESS because what is being open with his feelings, and especially what is being open with his feelings publicly]

Now who's the one making assumptions?

[It's a shitty deflection and he knows it.]

[shieldofrohan]

[In the margins, beside his notes on the Mistress:] Changeable as weather and fell in wrath, yet she holds her word and her pride as far as I have seen, in her way.

You may wish to know, too, that she can see this as clearly as I can. As we all can. Have a care.

[meteorman]

[See, Ford is getting used to the whole 'words appearing out of nowhere' thing now. It's kind of charming, almost. Additions to his notes? A little less welcome, but if they're accurate he can't pitch a fit.]

I will do my level best to remain civil, then. At least I can say with confidence that I've dealt with far worse.

[Now the real question is, is he gonna ask about that name or not.]

[shieldofrohan]

Then may this be a welcome respite. For all its strangeness, it has been so for me.

[meteorman]

I imagine so. From my preliminary observations this place is a little less hectic than Minas Tirith might be.

[It's a joke, you see, because she clearly had Nerd Parents.]

[moonshined]

You're a very talented artist. I was always rubbish at drawing. Are you some kind of researcher?

[meteorman]

Oh, yes! I study the anomalous and the paranormal, which has expanded to exploring and studying the many different universes I have found myself in over the years. You can see why my first instinct was to begin to take notes.

[Using a book like a book, what an idiot, right?]

[moonshined]

Well, I'm certain you'll have plenty to study here,
what with the rather fascinating mix of raw human sexuality and weird magical pratfalls.

And that's saying a lot, coming from someone who graduated from a school for witches and wizards.

[meteorman]

A school for witches and wizards? What a fantastic concept! What do you learn there? How is the curriculum structured? Are there disciplines? Are you expected to choose a major?

[Raw human sexuality is far less important than the idea of a wizard school system. Holy shit. What?]

[blackdogstar]

[Ahahahaha hilarious.]

Yeah, hey, about that whole 'magic' thing. That notebook you have. It is. It does. Welcome to the magic network.

You're from Earth?

[meteorman]

So I've gathered. One of the first things I must do once I get my feet under me properly is purchase a book that isn't enchanted.

And yes, I am. Earth 46'\ specifically. I don't suppose the callsign is familiar to you?

[blackdogstar]

Oh good. Better you learn sooner, before you write something you'd rather not share, or something.

Haha, yes, in fact. Earth, 1977. London, England, specifically.

[meteorman]

[Alright, so that's a roundabout no, then, but it does give him important information anyway.]

You know, I am beginning to think there is something about the seventies and eighties that led to an uptick in people wandering out of their native dimensions. I first left my own in the early eighties.

['Left' is a very diplomatic way of putting it, but he's trying this new thing where he doesn't get bitter and grudgey about things, especially things so far in the past.]