...heLlO , m y nammE is Tr Istan.,[ a soft click and buzz as he switches to audio. an aggravated sigh, followed by a man's voice - there's an noticeable British inflection to it (region unnamed, so stereotype it? |D). ]
I thought I'd give 'typing' a try, but ... well, I'd like to finish this before the end of the month. And I'm really not
- I'm really not too sure how this network thing functions either. I write a letter on this box and somehow others can see it? And then they write responses to it on their own box? Sort of like an actual letter, except it's like the person's right in front of you. Except they're somehow not
Hullo. I'm Tristan.
...I'm not really supposed to be here. You see, I had this magical transporting-candle, and it was meant to bring me to my Mother; however-- [a stifled sigh]
Obviously, I messed up. My thoughts wandered and so here I am: A magical world, but the wrong magical world. [ silence and a bit of inaudible muttering. if you listen closely, you can hear the chirping of crickets. or maybe even the distant yell of a woman ]
Would anyone lend me a map? I've been attempting to route a way out of here with no luck. And I've got to-
I really need to leave this place soon. I promised Victoria I would return in a week, and it's already been four days. And this won't be a promise I'll be breaking. Not to mention, I've got heavy baggage on me.[ pause ]( the love life of tristan thorn | not cut ic )