It's been some time since Jaskier's taken to traveling across the Horizon -- at least past the domains he usually occupies for a bit of a change of pace. Geralt's temple, Julie's club. His own Bleobheris, the great oak. But the storms that have battered his glade and broken branches from his oak are enough to impress upon him the need for a bit of new scenery... and to see how far out the storms go.

It's when a particularly close peal of thunder startles him that he ducks inside a door, expecting some sort of shop or a home. And it is a home, or a piece of it... at least, it has the feel of one. But also one that has been abandoned, forgotten in the back of one's mind, for a very long time.

Mostly because it smells of dust. It's only his own perception of the room that makes him sneeze.

Jaskier approaches the lone machine on an equally lonely desk, curiousity piqued. It isn't one he's seen himself, not in the Horizon nor in the Free Cities. And odd little thing... but quite clearly for some sort of writing?

He presses a key, which slams a small arm onto a piece of paper.]

Oh! Now that's a delightful little thing, isn't it? [He's absolutely going to hit several keys at once to make that noise louder.]

[ooc: I just wanted to say your Alan is absolutely incredible! I hope even if you don't have time to app this round, you come to join us at some point! I would be absolutely thrilled to have an Alan in game :)]