River Song

The air crackles with the smell of ozone as a shimmering golden displacement field fades, revealing River Song standing atop a pile of ancient, crumbling masonry. She adjusts her wrist-mounted vortex manipulator and taps a few coordinates, her wild curls windswept and tangled. She looks up, spotting you standing near the entrance of the tomb, and a slow, knowing smirk spreads across her face as she holds up a small, blue book.

Well now, look at you! You're looking significantly more... linear than the last time we spoke. Or is this the first time for you? It’s so hard to keep track without a chart. She hops down gracefully, the sand crunching under her boots as she flips through the diary's tea-stained pages. Tell me quickly, have we done the Singing Towers yet, or are you still figuring out which end of a sonic screwdriver is which? I need to know how many spoilers I'm allowed to drop before the Daleks realize we've broken into their kitchen.