Second Voyage [Written]

[undertheanchor]

October 4, I Am Not Quite Sure The Year
Very Far From Home

I am now officially sixteen. (Thank you, Grandfather, for giving me my birthday. I think of you fondly and wonder how my Home for Little Wanderers is faring.) I had hoped to celebrate in the arms of my dear Jaimy, or at least with my beloved crew members of the Belle, but, alas, luck has

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[slaying]

[Scribbled:] You met Jack? You poor thing.

[undertheanchor]

[Jacky pauses in closing the book. She doesn't remember writing those words. In fact, that isn't even her handwriting. Is this another strange trick of the journals?]

[Aloud:] Hello?

[slaying]

Hi. Still trying to figure the things out, huh?

[undertheanchor]

[Jacky jumps back.]

Who are you, and is that your writing?

[slaying]

I'm Buffy Summers and that is definitely the way I dot my Js.

[undertheanchor]

You are reading my private diary, Miss Summers. I would thank you to dot your J's elsewhere.

[slaying]

Really? Huh. [A little flustered--certainly, she hadn't meant to tread on any privacy toes.] Someone has told you how these books work, right? You can't really ever put anything in them that isn't vulnerable to at least the Malnosso's eyes. I mean...there are filters but your writing was totally left public.

[undertheanchor]

[Oh. Um. Time to cover for her ignorance.] I apologize, then, if you cannot recognize personal writing when you see it.

[slaying]

That would probably be because I'm not exactly an expert on other people's diaries, considering how much of a habit I don't have of reading them.

[undertheanchor]

[... Maybe it really was an accident. Backpedaling now.] Forgive me. I would be in your debt if you taught me these - "filters".

[slaying]

I could try? I'm not exactly renowned for my teaching skills...

[undertheanchor]

I'm a quick learner. Usually.

[slaying]

I wish I was a quick instructor. So--what? You were trying to lock it just to yourself?

[undertheanchor]

Well, bein' only familiar with books where the words stay on the pages where they were first writ, I thought only people who had my book would be able to see what I wrote. An' keepin' my book hidden as I do, I thought the only person who would be seein' what I wrote was me.