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Blood and Ink
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Mid-Lexadian, year 17 AM. The exact date escapes me. Time has a different quality now. The mortal habit of marking days did not survive the transition.
This is the journal of a Praenomen of the Dominion — kept in the habit of a mortal life that no longer applies, and maintained out of a conviction that precision matters more now, not less. The entries are written in-character. Below each one, a ruled divider marks where the mask comes off and the mechanical notes begin.
If you arrived here because you play the same game: you are welcome. If you arrived here some other way: you are also welcome, though some of it will not make sense and that is fine.