[During the afternoon, if one is to catch the journal feed they may notice what looks like a black splotch on the feed. If one looks long enough, they will notice that this splotch is growing slowly. Eventually it starts taking on this form:]
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She replies, explaining that she didn't make the inkblot. Once she finishes explaining, without realizing he can't hear her speak, another inkblot is formed.]
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Is there some reason that you are not answering me? Although... this particular image reminds me of an Asteroidean... I cannot think of many sea stars with only four limbs, however.
[It then occurs to Robert that perhaps zie cannot speak. So after a moment, he writes in his neat, professional script...]
Would it perhaps be more feasible for us to communicate with text if you find speaking aloud difficult?
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She begins to write that she didn't make the inkblots. But, as soon as she finishes, her words quickly mash up into each other and another inkblot is formed as a result. The actual process of them crashing into each other on the page can be seen if Robert doesn't blink while it happens.]
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... Was... that deliberate? [Because that was done so quickly he hadn't had time to read the text. The fact this is happening at all is taking precedence over the drawings' appearance.]
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It is a pity that you would be unlikely to know Terran Common Sign Language, else we might be able to circumvent this. [The mun doesn't know it well enough to write a conversation in it, either.] At any rate, we have not met before... I do not recognize you. But my name is Professor Robert Alexander Hastings. [He knows that the person won't be able to reply to this with zir own name, but it's worth stating his own regardless.]
Do you perhaps need assistance of any sort?
[And after a pause to allow a nod or shake of the head as affirmation or rejection...]
Or are you alright despite this... strange affliction on your communications?
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But it is reassuring that you are unharmed. Perhaps this is merely a glitch in the system? ... However, it could also be deliberately done, but for what purpose is inexplicable to me.
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...It then hits her and she puts up an index finger, ushering him to wait a moment hopefully. She moves off the feed and the sounds of scraping can be heard not too far away.
A minute later she returns to the journal and adjusts the camera to the forest ground, where she wrote out the word "MALNOSSO" with a wooden stick.]
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So the Malnosso are responsible for this debacle? That seems... predictable. And yet ridiculous. There seems to be no reason for this - not as if things being unreasoned ever stopped them before.
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Are you certain I cannot assist you somehow?
And may I perhaps have your name so as to allow us to speak in future when you are not so encumbered?
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But, she does take the stick again and writes "PAPRIKA" on the ground.]
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And you are quite welcome.
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