Stylus inks an incoming downlink straight onto warm signal-paper. The carriage marks now; the trace behind it is the truth — one live colour, the rest held in graphite.
An incoming signal is drawn continuously across a moving paper ribbon. You read what the channel just said by looking behind the pen — no widgets, no gauges, just the ink and the ruling.
Everything Stylus draws belongs to the recorder: the ruling, the carriage, the pen, the cue underline, the channel register.
A single vertical sweep marks the present and carries the only moving part on the page.
Fine horizontal lines and timing ticks set the ground — a seismograph drum, not a card.
The current caption carries a single vermilion underline; every other state stays graphite.
Captions, counters and station IDs are primary material — what the channel said, when it said it.