((You're in a library. It's nice and calming, a copy of a Shakespeare play assigned to you from school.)) Suddenly, the text blurs into one dot on the page. And all of a sudden, Alexander Court himself bursts from the centre, standing on the table. As you look at him in fear, he melts to the floor as a shorter woman made entirely of ink with pigtails and red eyeliner. "Thee seemeth bored, mortal. Continue reading, now." She glares, her nose up as she stares.