Entry 1, recorded sometime after nearly surviving being offed by a Redheadist at the rather enjoyable location known as the Gangplank.
Subject: New Babbage, New Minds.
Question: Are they all vicious little creatures?
Since my arrival to New Babbage I have encountered many different mindsets, the busy mind, the perverse mind, the destructive, the dingy mind, and the over-analytical mind. All of them…have been nothing short of pleasant to discuss and draw out these characteristics slowly and jot down my little findings in this leather tome. However, I think that even I may have bitten off more than I can chew but a good shot of whiskey can make anything flavorless when swallowed. I know that my work, patience, and intelligence will be put to the test when dealing with the various female population…and it is with great concern I ask myself this question…
WHY DID I SPECAILIZE IN THE FEMALE MIND?
Why…because I feel…it is what I owe Rebecca…I owe it to her…to try and assist women in their most complex times of life and give them the gateway that I failed her. Surely I can and will succeed in at least helping one lost mind here in New Babbage…or this is the city that will kill me for trying.
Subject #1: A small, yet spitfire of a thing belonging to a family of scientist and builders. I will call her Subject B. Subject B seems to be very found of intellecual conversations but very prudish when it comes to matters of the body. I like that…but I feel that there is a deeper depth in Subject N’s mind than the airs she puts on. I wish to test Subject B’s limitations as thoroughly as possible, however I am sure that will have to happen out of the attentions of Subject B’s boarish mate.
Subject #2: Another very outstandingly difficult creature of the mind. I shall call her Subject R. She seems like a woman that has been scorned enough to put on a tough routine to keep any potential intersted persons at bay. By interested persons, I do mean anyone that has two legs with an extra appendage in between. Though I’m not saying that Subject R’s defense mechanisms aren’t without cause…but the cause is what I wish to discover what has turned the hope of complete elegance in an aristocratic manner, into something that would spit at you with such venom that a viper would seem a kitten in your arms compared to her.
Subject #3: A young lady that has given me hope of intelligence conversation…then she opened her purple painted mouth…
Alas, I must rest my hand a bit, it hurts me. Entry closed.