[written in his regular handwriting]

This is Django. Please tell me if you can hear this.

[At first he blows into a harmonica, just a test blow. Then he resumes to play a small tune a bit louder]

Even if we can't speak, we can still make noises--a good way to alert each other. Watching the journal all day is dangerous and not fast enough to say you're in trouble.

A whistle would be good. You can wear it around your neck.

[There is a short pause and an ink splot, since he hovered his pen before adding a side note]

Don't abuse it. You might die.

[Filter to the library group]

I'm going to be joining soon. Mostly for guarding. I can bring some bells. So if someone finds something everyone knows it's info, not danger.

[Added in on the morning of Day 3]

[He blows into his harmonica softly to not be annoying but get some quick attention]

Are there any doctors who are willing to examine the deformed men in straitjackets? Some are defeated/dead (x). Maybe more around the castle.

Either way keep an eye out for them. They are related to this incident.

( Private )
[written neatly in a sad attempt of being anonymous]

Out of curiosity, if the castle let you grow normally, how much taller bigger should you be?

Like,

The castle gave me photos of my parents. I should be a foot taller than I am right now.

[written]

I've been doing some thinking. We do a lot of running when we don't have our powers when the world changes.

Would it be a good idea to make some sort of obstacle course in the dead zone? That way we can prepare to run through dangerous areas without powers and keep fit.

[added in as an afterthought]

I can also teach stealth a little. That should come in handy if we have to move in a group.

[Filtered to anyone who can transform]

N--nobody feels... a transformation coming? [his voice is forced calm, but still shaky from something]

I don't feel anything, but... I have... vampire bites scars that just reopened. I'm worried all of this is a precursor. If it is... we need to take precautions.

[Filtered away from First Gens]

Have we properly cataloged everything the castle has done for the holidays? Changes to the world are harder to find patterns for, but it's been consistent for holidays...

[After a long day of being sick and miserable and weird feeling, Django has gone to the shooting range, because shooting guns always makes him feel better. Except his concentration is gone, and despite having several guns, he seems to keep missing the vital points on the target. He's down to his Solar Gun after several rounds, but even with those energy bullets being much bigger than the average one, it fails to even hit the target.]

Ugh!

[He throws his Solar Gun hard at his bag, dislodging the journal as it flutters open to the floor]

This is a waste of time...

[A young nine year old sheet ghost is in the lobby, lurking. He approaches people as they pass by, but halfway backs away shyly.

After a while, he speaks quietly into the journal under the sheet, but it can be heard since it's not exactly a soundproof piece of cloth]

E--Excuse me, but is there still any adults left here? I don't--I don't want to go by myself...

[Filtered away from first gens, their allies, and people who would tell them for shits and giggles, and filtered to those in the castle area who are interested in the expedition progress

Yesterday, we got on a river. It's in the middle of a natural aqueduct, like someone made a wall, put a river on the top of the wall, and stuck a lot of plants at the side. It's very tall. [UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE CENTURY]

There are some flying fish. Not just the ones that jump out of the water, but they can fly.

[he pauses in his writing to sketch one]



I don't think I can catch one and bring it back alive.

It looks like we'll be out on the water for a while longer.

( Huey )

[Outside near the forest under the unforgiving summer sun, Django is tinkering with his motorcycle, journal nearby but closed to filter out the noise]

Alright, that should do it...

[He turns it on and revs it, but it sputters and starts to smoke at the engine. He quickly turns it off, then opens the journal.]

Anyone... happen to have a solar powered engine they can spare...?

[For all you cool kids going to the roof to listen to Linkin Park, you’ll find it occupied by Django.

To be more specific, he’s lying on the floor in the middle of the roof, staring at the stars. He has some books around him with charts, runes, and notes]

...I still can’t read them. I could use Zazie’s magic, but I guess I’ll never be able to read the stars like she can.

[siiiiiiiiigh]

I miss her...