Apocalypse 001 - Antpocalypse
[His handwriting is very nice and rather androgynous; not gracefully feminine or masculine chicken scratch. Rather, it has fluidity to it that makes one letter dance into the next in a fashion that, if viewed by an artist, would likely out him as one of them.]
So. Hi.
[Still unsure that the journals actually work, he feels awkward trying to communicate with a book. Ink drips for a while.]
These are supposed to be what? Enchanted? Cursed? Maybe that should seem weird to me.
[He thinks on that, but only for a moment.]
Until the mystical concussion goes away and I remember the real one, my name’s going to be Wolfram. [A brief pause as he shifts the topic to the real reason he bothered to write an introduction entry at all.] Now, that said, someone mentioned some kind of demon ant apocalypse going on in the main part of the [ink blot] tree? Are we sure everyone got out okay? Has there been a head count? Something? Anything?
As much as I like twiddling my thumbs in Disney World, if there's anybody missing, this is not where I need to be.