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Tess' Diary

by Wordman

[Writers Note: This is the summer diary of my character Tess, a grade 0 Snake shaman. She walks in a different world than most of us. Comments welcome at]

<<June 3 / Seattle / Voice mode>>

I have confusion. I thought the running of shadows was the Path. I no longer know. I'm not confident that setting my thoughts in this pseudo-permanent medium is a rational act, but Jana seemed to think so. My confusion is such that I will consider anything. (Anything? A dangerous thought, if true. Even my honesty eludes me.) There is too much black.

Maybe it is the mundane concerns. The current resolution with Aztechnology should be a break. But is it a resolution? Baal has left to avoid possible retribution; that seems prudent. I should leave, but is that the right thing? My dream of the wind through the sculpted walls seemed far.

Chicago. But the sneer...

<<June 4 / Seattle / Voice mode>>

I have just played back my first entry. John says that the voice-to-text translator seems to work fine. If I am sure of anything, it is to take his word for technical matters. I can remember speaking more between some of the sentences from yesterday, but I must have just thought them. Interesting.

<<June 6 / Seattle / Voice mode>>

Went back into Redmond to make my goodbyes (for how long?) to old friends. The first time I'd stepped onto Brain Eaters turf for years. I wasn't even in colors. Even though I've come to recognize lust in males, I've never fully understood it. Bruiser felt, not lust exactly, but something. I'd never noticed that before. He seemed concerned for my safety on my journey. I'm glad I told them I was going to Los Angeles.

Troxia has disappeared. She has apparently run off with a corper and moved to, coincidentally (?), Chicago. The Eaters are uneasy, but anything that gets her out of here should curb her chiplust. Voracious appetite for new input, but no will to go get it. She's a lot like me in some ways, had it not been for Snake.

The loss of the arm seems to have made Buck more philosophical. He said very little, but he and I always understood one another anyway. I'm sure he knew I'm really going to Chicago. He reached into a box and pulled out something I never thought I'd see again. The Collar. He kept it after he killed Marcus, apparently just in case he needed to make an object lesson. He said "It is the chain that youre dragging that was once your relief." (I wish I'd been looking at him from the Ethereal then. I'd swear for a brief moment that Dog spoke through him. More confusion.) He seemed a bit uneasy about how I'd react to The Collar.

It almost seems like that frightened, ignorant creature was a lifetime ago.

I'll be glad to get out of here tomorrow. This hotel room is beginning to depress me. Or is it the city? To much black.

<<June 7 / Chicago / Voice mode>>

Chicago airport is a zoo. I'm glad I was in a suit. I'm also glad I left the taser behind. Huh, imagine the look on the maid's face when she finds that in the sink. She's probably used to it.

The woman next to me on the plane was in simsense for the whole flight. She was an executive secretary. I examined cyberware very closely from astral for the first time. I never noticed how truly intricate the fusion between flesh and machine is. It was actually quite beautiful.

I begin to understand why cyberware, by its nature, makes healing so difficult. The patterns. So beautiful. I have not the words.

<<June 8 / Chicago / Voice mode>>

Talked to a gentleman in a bar, discovered that he had just lost his wife. I watched him astrally while he drank and the alcohol seemed to improve his state. We talked for hours (I mostly listened) and he never asked my name. Just needed someone to talk to.

I bought a taser. Funny how something that would have landed me in jail at the airport can be bought without license from a sporting goods store.

Chicago's emotional state, in general, is a bit more negative that Seattle. The weather, perhaps. Maybe just the crowding. Or is it the Mafia? (Morte Alles Francia, Italia... something). Is it relevant?

<<June 9 / Chicago / Voice mode>>

Been studying ancient Chinese all day. Some interesting texts from library.

<<June 11 / Chicago / Voice mode>>

Stopped a rape. I was downtown, when I thought I saw Troxia. It turned out not to be her, but I followed her for a while. I noticed a man doing the same. His aura was a bit... twisted, so I mind probed him. Nauseating. He was so far gone, I don't think he noticed. I ambushed him with the taser and left him sprawling in the street. No one seemed to care.

Even so, I felt badly about sifting his thoughts. Every time I've done it before was in desperation. And the... subjects knew it was coming. I'm glad I decided against probing Cat's Eye while he slept that first night.

Today was the first spell I've cast in days. Now that my attention is focused on it, it feels like the mundane world is driving its hooks into me. I think now might be a good time for an astral tour of the city.

<<June 13 / Chicago / Voice mode>>

Last night seemed to help.

I sought out Troxia this afternoon in earnest. I tried to learn the city by asking around the old fashioned way, but I had to resort to summoning a watcher. (They grow them a bit strange looking out here). Troxia and her significant other joined me for lunch. Doesn't seem like Troxia's type, but who am I to judge. Troxia told me later that it was all biz.

Dreamt of the sneering face again, but He wasnt sneering this time. He seems very familiar, but is that just part of the dream? Baal put digitized pictures of everyone we ran across into this gizmo, but His face is not any of them. Something about two small creeks crossing is there, but eludes me.

<<June 14 / Chicago / Voice mode>>

Another dream of the Face. This time eating rattlesnake. Couldnt sleep after that. I am beginning to feel the Face is on my Path. As an obstacle, judging by the symbolism, yet it doesnt feel that way. I'm going to have to find this man.

Spent the day trying to buy peyote, in the hopes that it will make my dreams stronger. Very hard to get here, but found some. It is good to have a tangible direction.

<<June 15 / Chicago / Voice mode>>

Dreams of the Face again; this time hiding something. The crossing streams are not creeks but rivers. I got the feeling of a mountain surrounded city. I'm going to Denver.

I ran into an artist on the El today, and he drew a likeness of the Face from my description. It is something at least.

<<June 16 / Denver / Keypad mode>>

This city is beautiful! The sun was setting over the Rockies, just as the plane landed. Although legally I am supposed to be in the UCAS sector, I have a room in neutral downtown.

No dreams last night. I think I am getting closer.

<<June 17 / Denver / Voice mode>>

Downtown is set off at 45 degrees to the rest of the city, so I got a bit lost today. A huge Amerind corp-type pointed out that the mountains are always to the west. I should have thought of that.

Between bouts of scanning the screamsheets for the Face, I took an astral tour. This town almost pulses with deals. A very odd sensation. I saw a mage lose control of a fire elemental and paid close attention to its aura. The entity killed the mage, then flew off into the night, both of which I expected. Its aura/emotion when it killed its summoner was not the satisfaction of revenge that I'd expected. No desire, but no regret either, as if it was just something that it had to do. Very curious. When it flew away, however, the feeling of freedom it radiated almost consumed me. I noticed that, inside my pocket, my right hand was wrapped tightly around the Collar.

<<June 18 / Denver / Voice mode>>

Went to Confluence Park, where the Platte river meets Cherry Creek. Obviously not the rivers. I overheard a woman mention the Cherry Creek Mall. Just to be thorough, I took a quick peek. The mall was standard, but nearby was the Tattered Cover Book Store. Not just real paper books, but a whole building full. Clientele was almost all Awakened. The astral charge in the air was so thick, I wouldnt have been surprised if spirits started forming out of thin air.

<<June 20 / Denver / Voice mode>>

Havent made much progress on locating the Face, but havent had the dreams either.

I did meet a decker named Ty, who is looking for work. Very interesting aura. Intricate beyond anything I've seen. For that reason, I think, I find myself very drawn towards the shadowrunner. I asked about the picture of Face and mentioned a price tag. We are now working out of a downtown apartment. I feel hopeful.

<<June 22 / Denver / Voice mode>>

The Face now has a name: Whittiker. He is part of the Pueblo Corporate Council. That makes sense to me for some reason.

Ty has been showing me around the Matrix. It gives me a horrible headache, but is very fascinating. I begin to understand the thrill John feels when fishing secrets from miles away.

<<June 25 / Denver / Voice mode>>

Whittiker is in the city of Pueblo, a hundred miles south. From a map I see that the Arkansas and Fountain Rivers merge there. Whittiker's position seems innocuous enough, but we are heading for Pueblo as soon as we make the arrangements. Ty knows a samurai there named Rojo.

<<Keypad mode>> As I was looking at Ty this morning, I caught a strange expression in my reflection in the window. It seems like I've seen that expression before on someone else. I'm beginning to get a bit confused over my feelings toward Ty (if only because I don't know what they are), but I must not let that confusion affect my Path.

<<June 30 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

I can't even remember how much of the information were finding I have put into this diary. I should go back to check, but I don't have time. Our discoveries are coming very quickly.

<<July 6 / Pueblo / Keypad mode>>

I've mixed emotions about last night. The experience was enlightening, to say the least, but now, as I write surrounded by satin sheets, I have doubts as to my goal. Yesterday I was sure that Whittiker's secrets were the reason I was drawn to this place, but after last night, I am beginning to question this.

I have never before experienced what Ty brought forth in me last night. The (I have trouble even writing it) ecstasy coursing through me was enough to send my soul out into its astral home; a reprise, almost, of my gang initiation. As then, I could see my meatbody below me, but it wasnt still. I could see it spasming under Ty's caress.

Even stranger, I could feel it.

Somehow I could still feel my body. Every touch. Every kiss. As if I had somehow bridged the tenuous gap between mind and body. More likely is was my partner's doing, although probably unintentional.

Even as she sleeps, Ty's aura is vibrant, especially where her skin touches her husband's. Lying on Ty's opposite side (which is curious, as when I went to sleep, he was asleep between us), Rojo is easier to figure out, but no less interesting. His aura pulses faintly (in time to his heart, I believe), a strong contrast to last night. An odd effect; parts of him completely black, while from the patches where he still has his original body, his aura seemed to explode. I think Snake is watching him.

Personal indulgence aside, this is what concerns me. Is Whittiker really on my Path? Or was I actually drawn here just to meet these two people? Ty and Rojo have certainly affected me. It is almost like Awakening again. But, no. It cant be; the guards on Whittiker's secrets are to strong for Snake and I to ignore. But... something.

Last night was significant, and not just because of the enlightening astral connection. Nor because I finally understand why humanity places such a strong emphasis on the pleasures of mating. Something else is there.

In spite of my growing doubts and nagging suspicions, Rojo, Ty and I are going to go through with the plan to infiltrate Whittiker's building. I must have answers. My mind tells me that I will find them there, but my spirit tells me that the answers (and perhaps the questions) will differ vastly from my expectations. Snake has remained annoyingly quiet. Although that has happened before, I am still frightened.

<<July 7 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

<<Input error. Impedance overload>>

Aaaaannn. Fuck!

<<Input error. Microphone spike>>

Venom! This fucking hurts.

>You should stay quiet, Tess.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Too much black.

>Youll be fine Tess, just hang on.

<<Nil translation>> Ty?

>I'm here.

Important. Get sword to Jana. Seattle. <<Nil translation>>

>Who? What sword?

Get that fucking thing away from me!

>Easy, love, easy. Rojo, put the patch away.

<<Nil translation>>

>Tess! Tess!

>>Is she...?

>No. Just unconscious. She cast a healing spell on herself before we got there.

>>Let's hope she held it long enough. I found her clothes.

>The bleedings stopped.

>>Christ. I'm going to go get... the...the rest of her.

>Be careful. Are you all right?

>>No. Not after this. What's that flashing?

>What? Oh. Her secretary is recording.

>>Turn it off.

>Hurry back.


<<July 9 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

As soon as we got in, I knew it was wrong. How fucking stupid could I be? It hurts so much. It feels like my arm is on fire, even though I know it's no longer there. If my intact eye wasn't swollen shut, I might cry.

I... I think Rojo blames himself, but it was my fault I got caught. I should have been paying more attention to where he was going. Rojo says Whittiker's gun fired explosive flechettes. Thank All that he didn't pull the trigger when.... The sick fuck. Who shoots someone bound in front of them?

Damn it. I'm bleeding again. Not that I can see it. Snake. I could heal myself, if only I could see.


I think... I think it may be time to put myself in debt. I can't continue like this. The true sadness is that it's all my fault. I misinterpreted something somewhere. I don't know. What did I do wrong?

<<July 11 / unknown / Keypad mode>>

Interfactor seemed... tense, for lack of a better word, although that probably isn't possible. He (it?) managed to get me out here, wherever here is. I think I'm somewhere in Japan. Chiba would make sense, given the nature of my upcoming surgery.

The Surgeon (thats all I have heard him called) said that hed never seen wounds like mine before. I agreed, and given some of Baal's violence, that is not a small statement. I'm a bit glad I can't see my body in the real plane, cause its appearance is very distressing in the astral plane. The Surgeon informs me that a spread of six of the flechettes impacted around my right armpit, destroying my breast, some ribs and exploding my shoulder. Another cluster (or maybe two) spread down to my left hip, destroying my eye (I'm apparently lucky I don't have brain damage or a punctured lung) and bruising some bone.

My arm, according to the Surgeon will not accept a vat grown replacement, so he is cyber-replacing it. That didn't sound right to me, until I took a good look at my stump from astral. Something is preventing it. I have a feeling it is Snake, which is disconcerting. I'm told that normally they can install machinery which doesnt take away as much of my humanity, but that since they don't have the flesh of my real arm to work with, I have to settle for the normal stuff. The eye will be almost half organic, as will the sub-dermal plating that the Surgeon insists upon ("to reinforce your damaged skeletal structure.") Apparently, the problem with grafting real flesh to my arm does not exist for my breast, so thankfully they are simply growing me a new one.

I'd love to crawl around this place sometime. John would be very interested in their machines, I have a feeling.

I am not looking forward to surgery. The Surgeon assures me that everything will be fine, but I havent told him about the intensity of my dreams. The surgery itself doesn't scare me, but the idea of being chemically prohibited from waking up does.

If something should go wrong, my will can be found at SAN (0003)-09-2938 box 747. Passcode "Jormungandr".

<<July 29 / unknown / Voice mode>>

I almost forgot about this thingy.

The bandages are finally off. Yay! During the actual surgery, I apparently drove them crazy, as I kept plinking into a, blinking into a metaplane. None of the mages here have access to the metaplanes, so to them it seemed that my aura just vanished, even though my body was still showing vital signs.

Oooo. Pink!

Um... I did dream, but I don't remember . I looked at some of my EEGs. The docs said they were strange, but they just looked like squiggles. I'm told they tried an experimental simsense recorder on me in an attempt to record my dreams. I don't think it worked.

My meatbody looks great! I had thought there would be scarring. I keep breaking cups with my new hand, but I'm getting better. The injectors were Interfactor's idea. The eyes are amazing. They can see heat patterns and zoom in on far away objects. They can even cry. I cant feel the plating at all unless I probe with my fingers. My new breast is fine. It is now the same size as its opposite. I never realized how annoying that almost-invisible size difference bothered me until now.

<<Input error: Nil translation. 67% probability of being laughter.>>

Wow. I think these drugs are getting to me. I'd better stop talking before I say something silly.

<<August 2 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

I just woke up here, even though I was in a hospital bed when I went to sleep. It was almost like a dream, but the light reflecting off my arm would seem to indicate otherwise. Damn, nothing quite like spending 800K for a month of surgery. I'm gonna get my bearings, then find Ty and Rojo. Then Snake and I have a long overdue appointment.

I've only been to Snakehome once before. Maybe twice. I don't really know what to expect. The first time, I was invited. Last time I was welcome. This time around I don't even know if I'll be allowed in. My power has diminished. I can't seem to make spells work without chanting in Chinese. That is most distressing. It seems like I should know something about the Path I got injured on... why it went wrong.

I don't have it.

<<August 3 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

They're both dead. Rojo... he...

<<Input error. Microphone spike>>

<< ...... ...... ...?... >>

<<August 4 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

The storage seemed to transfer O.K. Where did this temper come from? Looking back over this log... I don't know. I would never have tossed my pocket sec into a mirror three months ago. Very disturbing.

It feels like my world is falling apart. My magic is going. My friends are gone. Ty... O.K.... Ty got...killed. Black IC apparently. Running something in Denver. Rojo first found her. He killed himself. He... left....

<<August 5 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

Words are harder now. I never told Rojo that I didn't hold him responsible for what happened to me. I cant help but feel....

What is wrong with me? I've lost people before. People I've known longer than Ty and Rojo put together. I... damn it. Calm.


<<August 6 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

Buried them today. I used to think that burials were to ensure the spirits of the dead rest. I think now that they're more for the living. Nothing makes you deal with death more than planting your friends in the ground.

Took a long walk. Beautiful weather, which I found depressing. It is becoming a bit clearer.

<<August 7 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

I've been wandering in a haze for days. Time to stop. I understand love. I loved Ty and Rojo, although not in the way they loved each other. Bruiser loves me; we had the same look. It seems absurd that I didn't recognize that last time I saw him.

I've been putting off seeking Snake due to my grief. No. Due to fear. I go tonight. I go alone.

<<August 8 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

It is so clear! I don't know why it took so long to realize. It... well... start at the beginning.

My quest began in a sweat filled room with only one door. This short, greasy, bald guy with a horrendous cigar entered from the other direction, blocking my path. He started to taunt me about loosing my magic. I thought it was some sort of test, but he never made any sort of question or point. Looking back on it now, I can see that it was a test of separating the mundane irrelevancies from my magic. When he began to make dry comments on my sex life, I said "Does any of this matter?" He just looked at me. I told him to fuck off any pushed him out of the way. He didn't seem to mind, and I sure felt a lot more confident.

I thought I'd prepared myself for the sudden shifts in scenery so typical of the Metaplanes. I was wrong.

I found myself staring right into what I can only describe as the Source of Magic. Mana flowed out of a void, flooding the universe to infinity in every direction. It was enrapturing. After a long while (almost too long, I now realize), I noticed that the flow wasnt really fluid at all. More like individual streamlets. I noticed that one of the streamlets--maybe threads is a better word--seemed wrong somehow. I traced its path from the void and found that it passed just above me.

I remembered some bad hermetic theory that I'd read long ago. I'd always considered it garbage, but it seemed to work here. I experimented with the flow a bit. I made a wrong move and it charged through my body. It just left me tingling, but I think it could have been much worse. The stream seemed normal after that. I'd apparently fixed it.

Water rushed around my ankles, and I was naked in a sewer. Almost like growing up again, but I was already full grown and not afraid. I felt Snake just around the corner.

Realization struck just before I turned.

Snake was before me, but elusive to the eye. She seemed to radiate thoughts this time and never spoke. I knew that my damage and loss of magic had been a punishment, but that was now incidental, because I now knew why I had been punished.

I shouldn't have needed the hint, but the magic threads finally made sense. The thread was, of course, mine, but it wasnt wrong, just misused; or... sorcery done correctly, but for the wrong reasons. I'd been questioning everything. Is this on my path, is that on my path? Stupid. The path will come to me, not vice versa.

Snake seemed to smile.

For the first time in Her presence, I felt confident. Even now, as I sit here alone, I understand that do not know where I am going. And as never before, knowing that I do not gives me great strength.

<<August 10 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

I am still struck by the simplicity of Snake's lesson. I suppose all True things seem simple once they are understood. I talked to another of Snake's Chosen about the lesson today. He seemed to think that I should be upset about the permanency of it. I don't think he believed me when I said that I'd met Snake.

I don't think She chose him the same way She chose me.

Mentioning being chosen has reminded me of something Snake told me long ago. "You must not dwell on whether I think something is right or wrong. I have chosen you. Your decision will be the correct one." I should not have forgotten that.

A mage told me about a Sorcery lecture series given at the local college by some guest lecturer. A week ago, I would have worried about if going to this lecture was on my Path. It is somewhat liberating to have those thoughts vanish. The lectures have crossed my path, and sound interesting, so I will attend. The point is that I wont know if they are on the Path until they are finished.

Freedom is a road seldom traveled by the multitudes.

<<August 11 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

This sorcery seminar looks most intriguing. The professor is not human. I mean literally not a homo sapiens. He calls himself Dion Kimber and is a City Spirit.

He passed out a syllabus (which looks a bit too hermetically oriented for my tastes) but chose to tell his own story instead of teaching sorcery for the first lecture. He apparently went free some years ago after his summoner died. A corporate wage mage; geeked during a shadowrun. He seems very interesting.

Only today have I noticed that I have cultivated Ty's more revealing style of dress. A subtle tribute perhaps? In this heat though, you need to dress skimpily. I actually wouldnt have noticed, but this early bloomer kept staring at my breasts during the lecture. Couldn't be more than fourteen years old. No skill, but lots of raw power. Coyote chosen, I think. The class is going to confuse the hell out of him.

<<August 14 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

I had to leave class today, cause I started to weep over Ty. Irrational timing. After I calmed down, though, I felt really good. Made me realize that she really did mean that much.

The kid is in way over his head, which could be dangerous. He still continues to stare down my cleavage. I'm going to have to do something about that.

I'm finding only one idea in four from lecture new, and maybe one out of every three of those useful. I almost forget that most of these students (not to mention the teacher) havent ever seen the Metaplanes. Most of them--how did Rojo put it?--"don't know dick" about astral space.

While shopping for my sorcery texts (mostly philosophy stuff), I found a book on enchanting. Hermetic, but I can relate to some of it. It's much more interesting than the sorcery texts, at least.

<<August 16 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

I cornered the kid today and asked him why he found my breasts so fucking fascinating. He kind of fumbled and mumbled sheepishly, which was sorta cute.

I gave him a ride home, then invited myself in so I could convince him to look elsewhere for magical training. I mean, the kid's parents don't even know he's Awakened. I lay down the basics, especially the difference between shamanic and hermetic magic. That seemed really illuminating to him (as it did to me, all those years ago.) He asked me to tutor him for the summer. I refused.

I talked myself out and turned to go, but he stopped me and said "I find your breasts fascinating because I don't have them." I was a bit too stunned to respond, and so he, eyes looking at the floor, said "Can I see them?" I remember thinking only: and the Path will come to you. I took off my shirt.

<<August 17 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

The kid (I never did learn his name) didn't show up in class today; a good sign. Hell do fine. Magically, he and I are a lot alike.

I've been thinking about yesterday, and I'm not so sure that I went away profitless. I'd never made love to another magician before. There were some odd astral ripples. We both noticed them, and I think he may have learned more about magic from them than he did from anything I told him. I gained a little something into how sorcery effects auras. In fact, now that I think about it, it makes one of the points of today's lecture very clear.

<<August 20 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

Today I witnessed the joy of two parents in a park. Their child took her first steps, and was soon walking around the grass. For the first time that I can remember, I found myself thinking about my parents. Who were they? Why did they leave? It seems almost unnatural that I've not thought about it before.

<<August 24 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>

I had lunch with Professor Kimber this noon. He is a fascinating man. Spirit, rather. Some of his subtle movements are so human, it gets hard to tell. He seems such an average normal-guy, and then bam, he says the most brilliant thing you've ever heard.

I've been using this diary much less, recently. I think that's a good sign. Maybe I don't need it any more.

<<September 3 / Santa Fe / Voice mode>>

I've been traveling around with Dion. Weve been teaching each other in the most wondrous locations. I can see why the NAN make such a big deal of pollution. I'd kill to regain this land, too.

Dion has thought me a few new spells and I've gotten better at casting the ones I already know. Dion is actually a very artistic spirit. He's been encouraging my attempts at illusion sculpting. He's much better at it than I am. In return, I've been trying to teach him alchemy. It is going slowly. (I think spirits have a slower learning rate than humans. More repetitions seem necessary.)

It seems odd that I've become so intimate with an astral entity. A hundred years ago, I might have been burned at the stake. Nowadays it's simply unusual. Dion has been with other women before. Lots of women, if the seemingly limitless pool of ideas he suggests is any indication. His staying power is impressive.

I find his predilection for handcuffs interesting. He seems to relish the control. At first I thought it was just control over me, but I think it is really the idea that he is in control of a magician that pleases him. When he first suggested the idea to me, I flat out refused; more ghosts from the past. Later I told him that I would if hed tell me his truename. I expected him to freak, but he just looked at me and said "You can find that out yourself, cant you?" I said "Yes, I can." He thought about that for a second, then told me.

Being bound still doesnt appeal to me, but it gets him very excited, and that does appeal to me. Perhaps more than it should.

<<September 14 / Taos / Voice mode>>

Dion vanished three days ago. All my attempts to find him have failed. Either he has been banished or he doesnt want me to find him. In either case, I'm fairly certain that his truename was a lie. That surprised me, but it shouldn't have. I'm slipping a bit. This sounds heartless, but I don't miss him very much. I think we looked at each other as pleasant experimentation. I'm glad I never showed him the Collar.

I'm beginning to miss home a bit. If for no other reason than I knew how the city worked. I have about a week left before my visa expires, so I'm going to head over to Sedona.

<<September 15 / Sedona / Voice mode>>

This is one interesting place. On the one hand it is extraordinarily beautiful; the green against red against gray. On the other hand, it is filled with mundane magic-wannabees. I've never seen so many crystals in my life. You hear stories about the NAN lands, and how noble the Indians are, but I can't believe that the whites in this particular town were any worse than these people.

I was meditating up on a cliff, and one of these guys asks "May I join you?" I couldnt believe it. I was real tempted to blast the fucker off the mountain.

Hmmm. There is music playing from the next room that sounds familiar. Reminds me of sewers, for some reason.


<<Input error Impedance overload>>

<<September 19 / Pueblo / Voice mode>>>

I think my decision about where to go next has been made for me. I seem to be a bit low on funds. I hate that feeling. Anyway, I leave for Seattle tomorrow. Itll be good to see the troops again.


[Writers Note: Tess was killed by insect spirits two months after this entry.]

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