Saetan, this may be the end. I am sorry I couldn't be by your side. If I do not make it back to you, survive and live for the both of us. I love you.

How interesting...

A Cat who is not my Cat has arrived. I suppose that I shall have to learn to accept the fact that Wonderland is not simply my creation alone.

Now Saioh... You aren't playing a trick on people and planting paranoia in their heads, are you? If not, when this dies down, you ought to. Watching everyone is ever-so-amusing.

Saetan, my dearest, I know that you are angry at me. However there is no need to take your temper out on our books. Smash the furniture all you wish. Black my eyes if you must. But I do not wish to see another ripped page fluttering free from its bindings. The stories have done you no harm.

[Screened to Saetan//Hackable]
Beloved, I know you worry and fret over Jaenelle. Please have faith that she has returned home.

I shall try to offer what comfort I can, but I'm afraid that until things warm up, I'll have to sleep on the couch. I mean no offense, my love, but certain bits are like blocks of ice pressed up against me.

We seem to be short a roommate. I'm sure Miss Sheska is safely back at home, for which I'm sure she's grateful. But now with whom shall I play snapdragon?

I still seem to be afflicted with writer's block, but no matter. It shall pass eventually. And I'm certain that those who know me are actually breathing sighs of relief over my current inability to write. When I come up with a good story, I suppose that I'll have to make it something big to make up for the momentary lack of tales.

Since there seems to be spate of truthfulness going around, I simply must ask. Any of my dear roommates affected? It will be nice to know who can be pumped for their deepest, darkest secrets.

There was a picture of an adorable little girl among my things! I would guess someone's daughter or sister perhaps? Well, whoever she is, she's adorable!

Hm... Other than those fireworks, it's been far too quiet lately. Dear roommate, are you plotting something, or is your lovely gentleman friend making you behave? Somehow I doubt that it's the latter. Stopping mischief would be rather like stopping breathing for you.