A light red-headed woman steps out of the mists and looks around curiously. She is around 5'9" with fair skin and a smattering of freckles and appears to be in her mid to late twenties. Her Blue eyes seem to shift Green and back as she moves. She suddenly realizes someone is there and turns to you with a half smirk on her lips.

"Hi there, My Name is Jalana Screee. I'm one of the voices inside John's head that keeps him from going on a murderous rampage and killing all the people that desperately deserve it."

She sits down on a chair that wasn't there a moment ago and smooths out her denim dress.

"John's been going through some tough times lately. He's been trying to run a comic book store where he lives for over two years now and it has finally failed mostly due to the crappy economy. Way to go Bush Junior, leave a mess for the next incompetent president to clean up! Ah but I'm off track. Anyway for two years now John has been working his ass off for anywhere from sixty to eighty hours a week on a business that he barely saw a single penny from, especially these last few months. This has left him with very little time to write, let alone any creative energy to work with if he did have time. This has changed with the destruction, sorry dissolution, of the business. So while he still has the stress of being unemployed in an uncertain economy... seriously, you'd think Obama would know better than to fix things by giving money to banks of all organizations! Eh Em Sorry again, while still stressed, he's not as stressed as he had been while chained to a failing store."

Jalana stands up and paces back and forth a few times to collect her thoughts.

"So the way things stand right now, John is clearing up several old stories cluttering up his fanfic writing directory as well as finishing off a few partial chapters that have been collecting electronic dust for a couple of years now. He's re-reading all his old works and re-reading the manga or comics that pertain to the few stories he wishes to continue."

Jalana stops pacing and looks at the reader again.

What's sad is that John here is only a couple of years from fourty and he's starting to hit that age where he feels he hasn't accomplished anything with his life. It's been a madhouse here with me and the others trying to keep him calm enough to focus on the important things"

"Like Porn!" a voice cries out from the mist.

"Shut up!" Jalana screams, "Sheesh, some of the others in here haven't been much help either. Now where was I... oh yes. John graduated from college with a degree in art over three years ago now and he's starting to feel the need to get back to what he considers the basics. Too many people have been trying to push him in directions he thought were good choices at first but now he realizes he's lost his way. So we're taking him back to what he knows best. Art. Of course art manifests in several ways. Drawing, painting, dancing, even writing is artistic. We decided he's going to learn Flash while we get his crude drawing skills back up to what they were in college. One way or another he's going to finally get started on his Tannius Chronicles novels (either written, drawn, or animated, most of us don't care)."

She sits back down in the chair and sighs. "So for now I'm taking the place of his Muse to get his act together while riding herd on the rest of this Menagerie of a broken soul. You may see me around as I try to keep things moving forward."

Standing back up, Jalana flips her long hair back over her shoulder, waves and walks back into the mist.