Journal Entry – 24th Of November 188 *sound of falling masonry from across the street and a strange bunny like yelp is heard*
*runs towards the front door and shouts down the road “You ok Mr Harvey?!”*
*See’s Mr Harvey nod and smile*
*walks back in*
So, here we are again Journal. I really must write down more into this diary thing, but its always a case of finding the time i suppose…theres irony for ya…
As for the city itself, its been quiet since the whole…undead plague thing, with only a strange blood covered monster chasing urchins and trying to eat them, all in all, a normal week in Babbage.
It seems that the old crumbling Cafe across the street is being given a makeover by Mr “BUNNEEEHHHHH” Harvey, as the yelping sounds coming from there can testify, the old cafe is long overdue a new seating of mortar. The hotel is strangley quiet, half of its rooms are laying empty, hopefully this coming holiday season will see a new group of renters coming into the city.
As for myself, well, things as usual ar
*Urchin Bill runs in with a note*
“ello sir! urgent message just came off a hauler for ya!”
“Ohhhhhhhhhh thanks Bill”
*hands bill a shiney coin and watches him run off, then unfolds the note*
=========================================
URGENT…URGENT…URGENT
FROM: Mr Angus Burns McAndrew
TO: The Ponce Running Brunel Hall, City State of New Babbage, Academy District
SUBJECT: Glasgow Met Office Report
Hello Nephew, I took the liberty of dropping this note on a long hauler ship sailing to the soot filled city you stay in. Old Jim Robertson at the Royal Met Office in Glasgow warned me about a very large area of low pressure, low to no wind and clouds being drawn down from the arctic thats heading your way. Aberdeen is already under a foot of snow, it seems your location is about to get the worst of it. Expect heavy snowfall tomorrow morning which will last into December and subside into general snow showers.
PS: I hope you reinforced that old clapped out roof on that monstrosity you call a hotel
PPS: Your other uncle said you should get a real job instead of lolloping about drinking tea all day
Yours
Angus B McAndrews
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*puts the note down and walks outside and looks at the roof*
…it WILL hold…it WILL hold….
You certainly have…entertaining correspondents, Mr. Mornington. *grin*
*orders another wagon for garbage and hauls several wheelbarrows full of crumbling bricks into it*
Mercy me, did a madman build this place? Oh, wait… I believe so.