I was given this journal at the time of my death-- or shortly after, anyway. It's odd, looking back at things I'd written when I wasn't really myself. I made a rubbish woman, an imbecilic teenager, and--

Hann--Anyway. Despite everything here, the loss of identity through floodwater, the ports, all of the arrivals and sudden departures, the ( Read more... )

Out of curiosity, are we granted access into the pub if we have Warden accompaniment? Not our own, but rather, any Warden? I'm in the mood to unwind with a good drink, but given the circumstances, am finding it close to the 'impossible' end of the spectrum ( Read more... )

I've considered writing something more eloquent; however, I don't really see the point right now, so I'll simply lay it out: I don't understand how things work here. I don't understand how we are expected to undergo these floods, these ports, and now-- most recently-- this "invasion," and gain anything positive from what is, essentially, torture ( Read more... )

I'm not used to people looking out for me. It's a funny sort of role reversal. This entire experience has been one strange, mad event after another and I don't know who I am anymore I feel out of sorts.

I don't know if I want to be here anymore.

Well. Anyway. The door's back.

[OOC: AS USUAL, whenever people get too close to him, he freaks ( Read more... )

[Private to Charlie]

You alright?

[/Private]

Right, we're all bored here. Let's get a card game started. I've got the drinks, I know a few of you have got decks, now we just need the blokes-- or... women, too, if you're interested. Don't care if you're an Inmate or a Warden or a complete wanker named Jacen, let's just get something started,

[Private to the Marquis]

To answer your question: yes.

[/Private]

This idleness is no good for me, and many of the things I enjoyed doing aren't exactly accessible here.

I need a... hobby. What does everybody else do to pass the time? Aside from writing in journals.