bright light city

Oh, c'mon England! That was utter shite!

Children could tend goal better than that!

So I've looked around at the other people here.

Vampires? Real. Magic? Real. Aliens? Real.


Knew it.

I hear tell of a forthcoming cricket match.

I've played for local XIs in my time, even if "my" time was some time ago. I'd like to volunteer my services, if there's still any space on the proposed teams.

Well, that would appear to be over.

It was most interesting while it lasted, what I can recall of it.

How long have I been... indisposed? I have no memory of the past while.

Sirs or Madams,

I received your letter upon my arrival here and have read it several times over. While I acknowledge the fact that you are in need of my services, I keep a very busy schedule. I assume that in summoning me you realise that you are not only taking me away from my duties but also putting yourself at great risk. As the Slayer, it is my duty and birthright to rid the world of all impure evils. Please return me at once to my home in London or I am afraid I must take action upon you. I am sure that you are just as intent to solve this in a peaceable manner as I am. Regards,

HARRIET BIRCHAM.

Okay so to recap. I have a tattoo that is going to fade that will hurt if I try to leave. But apparently you can leave after a while as some weird and twisted reward for good behaviour. There are dead people here. But we're not dead. Zenner Corp is the devil and turns men into women and women into men and thank God I haven't been hit by that one yet. There was an Apocalypse. Which is it an Apocalypse if the world didn't end? Isn't it just like... I don't know... a minicalypse? Everyone likes to air their dirty laundry on this thing. Some girl stole some other girl's husband I think I read. And there's Batman.

The credit card is real though and more than works. Hello Ipod.

I seem to have become one of our genial host's experiments.

I am not about to lose my sanity over it all, although it is somewhat strange. Certain things are amiss, and other things are even more amiss by their very presence.

Can somebody please advise me as to female undergarments. Surely the tiny scraps of string and gossamer and silks cannot suffice.

In the meantime, I believe I shall retire to my room with my absinthe and opium.

(Fred Abberline)

Seems we've been set up on a blind date. How about we just meet up for some drinks and see what happens?

I've worked out how this typewriting machine and the attached network function.

I've worked out how to use the small, wireless telephone-function contraption even if the rest of it remains beyond my comprehension for now. (To be honest I am somewhat reticent even to try many of its other functions.)

I have even managed to utilise the small card which, when introduced to the correct wall-built machine, issues bank notes of varying denominations simply at requesting the same.

However, I have been avoiding the inevitable. After all this, apparently, is the early 21st century and I am very much the product of the 19th Century. As such, I am woefully ignorant of modern culture and the development of the same.

I require exposure to items of social prevalence. This was brought home to me in my recent discussion about the practice of karaoke - and music in general. So acquainting myself with today's music is very probably imperative. One can tell much about a society by its musical tastes.

I shall also require a few works of modern literature. Well, when I say modern, I mean I wish to purchase a selection of works from the past century.

And... this is what concerns me most, if I am honest. I think my entire look requires updating. I have noticed that many styles and appearances are considered unremarkable now - and I confess that the sight of so many female legs and feet is a surprising and delightful sign of progress - but my own look, while I am far from dissatisfied with it, requires updating.

I think my best option there is to ask somebody to accompany me to the various emporia which supply items of male costume. In fact, I have already decided to ask my - the term, I believe, is flatmate - to be the one to accompany me. John Crichton appears to be a reasonable man who will give an honest and informed opinion.

His small gray female companion is something of a novelty, but I believe he has little if any influence in how she comports herself, so he should be an admirable choice.

Anyone up for karaoke???

Crazy-emo-guy you aren't allowed.

Two words: Sky Diving.

Who has the huevos rancheros to come with me?

My roomie's frelled in the head. Or British. Mainly, he's stoned out of his skull and then he talks about how the lights are a wonderment, which, y'know, what? Haha he'd love Moya. I miss Moya.

FREDDY! Frederico, Fred, FRODERICK! We need to do something. Bond. Be sociable. I'll introduce you to Pip and Blue and Mini-me and all his friends who I haven't really met yet, but never fear, it'll be Oopah doopah. And don't worry about Frau Blücher, she's not here either so your eyeballs are safe.

This is very strange.

Very strange indeed.

I fall asleep in the Emperor's establishment, and awaken here, and yet I appear to be "unintoxicated", and I had no premonition of this whatsoever.

I also appear to be not alone since ambient scents indicate to me that at least one other person occupies this place. The colours are stark and over-bright for my liking and I cannot locate the means with which to provide illumination.

However, I have read the "instructions" provided, and I have managed, I believe, to adapt my knowledge of the typing machine to enable me to operate this contraption. As to the rest, I shall doubtless acquaint myself with their usages, whether mundane or arcane, as time progresses. I seem embarrassingly unable to locate the gas fittings, and there appears to be a peculiar lack of a bath. Surely, given the otherwise pristine nature of this - I must refer to it as a rooming house for the moment until I can learn its true nature and description - such an omission cannot be accidental.

This is a most singular place. I believe an orientating perambulation might be in order while processing the currently-accumulated minutiae to the best of my abilities. Subsequent to such an exercise, I shall endeavour to ascertain the location of Godley. I know that my companion within this apartment is not he, since the odour is quite wrong.

Now, if I can just locate my hat, and perhaps another establishment such as that owned by the Emperor - for potential future patronage should the necessity arise - I shall waste no more time in idle gawking save to say that if this is the future, we seem to have achieved much and little, simultaneously.