So, the Doctor said I should write something on the interwebs so everybody knows how happy they are to've got me out of the quiet place underground.

Um...I think. So, yeah.

I'm...

I don't like this...thing. It's boring and slow 'cause the one I had first, um...I wanted to take it with me, inbetween, but...uh, I guess it can't be not in two places at once, and the fork in space broke it. I didn't know... tell the interwebs, I didn't mean to kill its friend.

Date:	2009-02-23 17:17
Subject:	[Voice, public]
Security:	Public
Mood:	weird

[Some weird, fluttery static] ...ello? Huh. I guess you're not working, since you're not talking back. Oh well, I'll talk to you anyway, lappytoppy.

Today or I dunno maybe yesterday or tomorrow I met one of Dream's old friends. Old friend from old-older-brother...does new-older-brother know him? You have to remember to make me remember to ask him okay? Because Barnabas isn't here, and you're kind of like him I guess 'cause I'm s'posed to keep you 'round so you can look after me and vase-verses. Vise-veri? Veni-benihana-llama... it's something in Romish means th'other way 'round.

I don't know why they call it a dead language, because I've never met any languages in my sissssghterrrrrrrrzzzzznnnnsmnznznznnnnn---

[Now comes the sound of every chalkboard or chalkboard-analogue in all the universe being nail-scraped ALL AT ONCE OH GOD MAKE IT STOP-- oh. It's stopped.

And silence. The soft, velvet, hair-prickling silence of dead air.]

Something lost me. I think that's why I'm here... I thought here was some elseplace, the place I belong, and that is where I'm found because I'm always in the last place I look. That's what Destruction told me.

Oh!... oh no. Nope, it's gone. Something's gone.

The guard is gone now. He gave me this notebook. I wanted to give him something back, maybe the memory of his great-great-step-aunt, she locked all her children but one in the cellar to keep them safe from the fire she put in the drawring room, but he's gone now. Back to Ark-Ham. I guess he's hungry.

...This paper tastes worse than it sounds.

[ooc: Yeah, the guards don't know quite what to make of a scrawny teenaged girl who just APPEARED in one of the prisoners' cells at Arkham.
They're probably radio-ing somebody or other about it now. On a very unsecured frequency.]