The explosions must be stopped. My boots, they are ruined. I do not know what it was that exploded, but now they are scuffed to the point where polishing, it will do nothing. Is there nothing that can stop these things?

[About fifteen minutes later he writes again.]

Barbed wire. It is not good for coats, no. I think I am starting to get angry. Is there a seamstress here who can fix a coat, or is this also lost?

[Another ten minutes pass.]

Shooting. They are shooting! The bullets are not killing but why would they even shoot me? I am bruised and this is utterly indecent! All I wanted was food! Food! Everyone must eat, even aliens, no? Maybe not the droids. Do droids eat? Maybe little metal things, scraps around the lower place, hm? I will get dinner, and I will not die trying because that is the most ridiculous way to go and I refuse to die in a ridiculous fashion. [A short pause.] Again. Stupid Apostle. Stupid whatever god he prayed to. Stupid Tree, stupid bullets, stupid bomb!

[It’s ten minutes later that he writes the final bit.]

I give up. The dirt, it has my food. I will go, and I will starve, on my little couch in my little house.

I suppose I should be glad my house, it was still here, when I got out of the infernal case. And I suppose I should be glad that I have no pets, because they would have starved.

But mostly, I am glad that I was not missed. This, it means that when you all leave, because you will, or you all are stuck in sand, which you will, or when you are killed, I do not have to miss you, hm? A great burden, that takes off. Yes.

So. Not that anyone cares, nor do I expect them to, but I am no longer stuck. Housekeeping, do be sure to clean up the sand, yes? I would like to have my little house tidy.

Londo of House Mollari. That is who I am. I do not know if it is a thing to be celebrated, finding this out. The knowledge that came with it, it is heavy. What does one think, and do, when they are not sure they wish to know more about who they are, but cannot abide being utterly ignorant?

I am an ambassador, and I am a very bad friend, and I do not think I like myself all that much.

Make a wish. For three days, this paper, I have stared at it. What possible wish that one would write would come true? It is that damnable question all over again. What do you want? Maybe, maybe, there is more that is wanted than one can say! Did whomever asked that question ever thing about that?

This paper, it is a mockery. Make a wish. Pah. Wishes are futile anyway. This, it is not worth the paper it is written on.


[[ooc: I moved this back since I'd failed to do it when I planned, but couldn't let him miss this.]]

Mr. Grift is dead. Before anyone asks, no, I did not kill him.

There is procedure for this, no? A body? He's in section four. Someone should come get him, because I most certainly am not getting blood on my clothes.

A top. I have been given a top. Is it meant to say something? This world, it spins about? Or is it just another item to go on a shelf and make me wonder what it could possibly mean? At least it is not as annoyng as the bear, no.

I have made some bids. This, it should be interesting. I much look forward to winning them. And if not, I shall simply have to visit the people myself and see how they are.

[Edited to add a short time later] My dear Stellaris, I fear I must apologize. The last bid on you, it was not my own. Many of them were. But if you are to find extra time, I would still like to spend time with you.

The high scores on the games of chance here, in this Wilderness, I have beaten. The shooting games I am decent at, but the others, I find I do not understand them. Why would one dodge a monkey throwing barrels? Why would aliens attack in neat little rows so you can shoot them? One defender, they could not fight that many, no.

A more important question, why is there no alcohol here? Surely, if you are fighting monkeys, or pushing buttons to fight, to enjoy it you must be a little tipsy, hm? Rum. That, it goes well with Coke, no? And there is much Coke here.

I will pay someone to bring rum down here. And then, we may share it and play, yes?

I do not suppose there are any beds that are not hard as a rock down here? I have tried one in nearly every cabin, and they are all most uncomfortable. It would be better to sleep on the ground! When we were banished out of the tree last time, the accommodations, they were much better. I am not impressed. This place, it has always been poorly managed, but now, I see that it is even worse than I thought.

Next time we are driven from our little homes and what little lives we have, I would like more comfortable accommodations. Do note this, whomever manages these sort of things, hm?

So. This judging thing. It has been spoken of before, no? Most familiar, it seems. There is only one thing to do, hm?

I suggest myself as a judge.

I have not been here too too long, only a few months. But in this time, I have gained a new appreciation for order. We would do well to remember that there have been attacks, no? Well. This, this is what the project is made to address.

All of this, it fits. The system that is coming into this place. There is little that I know. But this, I do. I am here to take part in it. And myself, I would take on this duty with humility. No. I would not take it with humility. I do not think I know the meaning of the word. Reverence. That is better, hm? Yes, yes it is. I will give it due reverence.