Voicemail / Disclaimer

[apocalipped]

You've reached the phone of Jonothon Starsmore. If it was important enough for you to call, I suppose it's probably important enough for you to leave a message, too. I'll get to it sooner or later, probably.

BEEP.

In creating this journal, the author has assumed the identity of a fictional person for use in the role-playing game fandomhigh, for the sole

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[streetartsurfer]

It's a letter, really, in the envelope -- stuffed almost full, not quite to bursting, and itself drawn over in sprawling pen, sworls and spins that pulled the eye this way and that. The letter, though, was written on the back of pictures: charcoal, conté, ink, pencil; acrylic and oil. No watercolour, though.

Jono, it started, simply, on the back of a charcoal sketch. It's a three-quarters profile, black-wrapped leather around the bottom of a face, scars suggested up the cheeks, and the barest hint of red conté at the edges drawing up the idea of heat, of fire.

Jono, it started, I don't even know if you'd remember me. I wasn't at the school for long, really, just a couple of months, and I didn't make all that many friends when I was there, but I remember you. Hard not to, really.The next, with a helpful '2' inked and circled in the top right corner in a blue so dark it was almost black, was on the back of a small oil painting. It was of a young man, still a teenager, in leather: pants, jacket. Wrappings again, too, covering the

[streetartsurfer]

'6' is all conté, this one a medium-shot, face and chest, the wrappings loose but not gone. Fire's spilling out, starting to wreath itself up around the young man's face, red and yellow and orange, no longer inviting. Dangerous, now. Now that it's just the two of us, I'm going to try heading out, it read. Cody doesn't remember my best friend Gabe, and Gabe's phone isn't working, but Cody's only two, and Gabe could just have dropped his phone somewhere, or something. Going to head up to his place, first, see if I can find him, then head east.

It's not the last picture, '7', just the last one written on. It's charcoal, pure charcoal, folded four times, easily the largest picture in the package. The wrappings are completely gone in this one, black fire surrounding the young man, menacing, dangerous, but beautiful, somehow, too. Going to try to head to Fandom. Don't know if we'll make it. Don't know if this will even get out, but at least for now the mail still exists. I guess I just wanted you to know... Just wanted someone to know that