June 27th
Everything was—   right wrong right   —totally normal, and yet Quet felt the written echoes of words being—   scrawled removed imprinted erased   —changed and undone over her body, along with memories that should and should not exist. They shook themself, sending a loud rustle through his flowers. No, something was Definitely Wrong. The manuscript overwritten like a double printed page for the briefest of moments, letters overwriting each other, and obscuring everything, before resetting itself after she returned to consciousness. Everything was stable, but the stability was a lie, a trick of perception, yes, but something deeper—   Deep enough to alter The Words?   —seemed likely. She should check on Officer Levon, the small man having left during Tattoo's drugged rant—   narrated away from the group, Officer Busicon's words shedding from him like the forgotten leaves of The Word Tree   —but there would be time for that. They were not his only companion, and he expected that she would not be the only one worried. They were one of the only ones that saw The Truth, brief though it was, and she had no way of knowing how long the memory of it would linger in this changed—   same unchanging always this way The Truth is stranger than fiction   —reality. Before she did anything else, they had to find the—   one born with the unthinking potential to eat reality, changed, altered, re-written by curious minds that thought to Play Gods, given a gift as bitter a pill as the Truth Quet tried to hold on to   —moth-person and speak with him. They knew in general where Officer Stein+ stayed, though he wasn't sure he would be in his quarters at the moment, given what was occurring. Perhaps he would prefer to find somewhere less overwhelming than the Silverstitch base? Quet considered for a moment, before deciding it was as good a bet as any and heading towards Vatna's room. As she approached he immediately knew—   the normal tremble in the scripted phenomena which accompanied the being's presence was unbalanced and skittered against Quet's perceptions; the energy of sensory overload jotted, scrawled, scribbled, into the edges of the manuscript, crammed in between the words so much so that it was fit to burst and overwrite the main text if nothing changed   —that something was wrong. They reached Officer Stein+'s door despite an innate sense of discomfort, and after a moment of indecision, pulled out piece of parchment from her backpack and put words to paper in a more static sense, before sliding it under the door.   Hello, Vatna. I wasn't sure if knocking was a good idea, since you read as overwhelmed. I wanted to speak with you, but it seems you already know what I'm here about. How are you holding up?

— Caustic

Opening the door, Vatna looks as if hes been scraped across a wash board. Disheveled and worse for wear, though in seemingly maintained sorts. The worst has come and gone. Hopefully.   “Quet. Is something amiss?”   His hand clenches nervously, wrapped in his Silk like a filigree glove.

— Lurid

June 28th
Quet stepped back as feet approached the door, and the rattle of the knob announced that the door was about to be opened. When Vatna came into view she shifted in concern at his bedraggled appearance, a hand raised with the half-formed thought to start brushing down his ruff and preen his feathery antennae, before her hand dropped back to her side. Personal space... right. They rubbed their hands together in a nervous crinkle of paper, startling slightly when Vatna addressed her.   "Ah! Yes, I mean, no... I mean..." they started, before trailing off and trying to gather himself. They noticed Vatna's hand—   also described as nervous   —clenched at his side at the edge of her focus, and redirected briefly to take in the delicate details of what he Knew to be his Silk. Their blossoms fluttered slightly, before refocusing on Vatna in a more general sense, feeling oddly rude for her direct observation. She followed the context back to his original question and tried again. "Things are stable for the moment, and they seem right, but they're not? I Saw someone that did not exist, a place that should not exist as it did, and yet they did, and do not. The manuscript is..." They trailed off, grasping for the words that made up his lexicon, "Overwritten? I can't see it anymore, but it seemed that The Original Manuscript is still there, just covered. I was hoping you would know more."

— Caustic

His body language paused at hearing the declaration. Then took a moment to look, really Look at Quet.   “Yes.. there seems to be a Duality interposing on itself. The cause and to what extent it ranges I have no elucidation.”   He took a deep breath rested himself upon the bulkhead.   “Everyone I have observed seems to have an itch that all is not as it seemed, but you are the first to voice that there is more to it.”   A lull lapsed before he spoke again.   “None though seem as affected as myself. It has been an ordeal to weather the backlash of this Duality, as I am calling it, and I seem to have a working method of coping. So to answer your missive, I am simply holding up.”

— Lurid

June 29th
It was a disconcerting feeling to have someone like Vatna truly focus on them, Quet realized as a slight tremor passed through her frame. He wondered what he had seen or did not see, and unease trailed behind the thought with the same jarring poetry that had come when Tea had questioned them about himself and where she had come into being.   'Duality,' Quet heard, drawing him back to focus, and several of her blossoms opened and shut, revealing painted eyes as they considered the shape and meaning of the word. Yes, duality seemed appropriate, though Vatna's lack of clarity about how far-reaching the effects were was concerning.   Notating Elucidation Synonyms: clarification, commentary, definition, explanation, illust— Strike further as unnecessary, the concern is double meaning; is he uncertain, or is he obfuscating? Does it matter? Am I overthinking? Yes/No/Maybe, circle one.   Quet didn't know much about the Officer outside of the hints and peeks into his otherwise heavily obscured narrative, but what they had glimpsed was a being that surpassed Dimension as most knew it.   Officer Stein+ was young though, much like she was, so perhaps it was a matter of learning? They filed away their mental notes and the line of consideration for later, reminding himself to focus on the present tense.   "I take it you haven't had a chance to read the reports given your state," Quet 'nodded' her bundle of flowers, mimicking the motion that he had seen others do in affirmation. "I hadn't noticed anything out of place previously, and I still can't see it actively now, but on our mission to the Trade Hole, Officer Sleekfoot and Seth Richards noticed that something was Amiss. I was only able to See the Truth with the application of magic; the quarry was also an untouched hill. In the overlap, the quarry that we were in was filled with vines that connected to a Rift above it, much like the ones that grow around Rifts normally. From my experience, I am beginning to wonder if the vines are as natural as I remember them being, she explained, describing the circumstances that they had found The Quarryman in.   "I had a bit of a..." he hesitated, flower petals fluttering in embarrassment, then settled on, "Spiral over something, but Tea corrected me. Unfortunately it had side effects, and what was already overlapping... blended? I don't remember much about it, but bits of it lingered." Their fingers ran over their own arm, the memory of being written and unwritten only to be written again over and over echoing through them. "I collapsed, and by the time I returned to the present, they had Petrified the vines, and freed the Quarryman." She tapped a finger on their arm, "Officer Sleekfoot and Seth insisted that they saw someone else called The Ferryman before he disappeared, and no one but our group seems to remember The Quarryman ever existing now. It was all very unsettling."

— Caustic

"The Reality Observation and Fabrication Labs may know more."

— Lurid

Quet sifted through her memories like a finger running over pages, only finding a short footnote about the labs Vatna spoke of, with little more than the knowledge that it was attached to the Hospital. "I've never been there before," they commented, considering the idea, "Do you know who runs it? I seem to have missed the facility in my learning.

— Caustic

"It is a private facility owned by my Father. I have not seen it open to any who do not work there."

— Lurid

A slight shiver passed through Quet's blossoms at Vatna's mention of one of his parents. He was the one that had good reason to hate the one whose Knowledge spanned his body, though no one but she knew it, having read reports on the battle that had brought about Ezekiel's death after finding his name inscribed upon themself.   "Your father was the Medical Officer before Officer Positive, correct?" they asked, trying to shake the feeling of unease. "Do you think they would accept my presence if I am not employed there?"

— Caustic

June 30th
"No," he said simply on that matter. "But if it is discussion you seek with him it need not be had there."   Once more a scrutinizing gaze.   "What answers do you want to hear? What do you plan to do once you have them? Attempt to undo what has happened? Erase the part that does not match to your understanding of events...? Is this a simple satiation of curiosity?"

— Lurid

At Vatna's quick reply, Quet drooped slightly, though they perked up again when he mentioned meeting elsewhere. She saw Vatna's deep gaze searching her as if he was looking to read into her directly, and shifted nervously as he spoke his thoughts into dialogue.   "Ah..." he trailed off, considerations flipping like a rolodex in response to the line of questioning.   1) What DO I want? 2) Why am I so curious? 3) What is my motivation? 4) Is this only an instinct to learn and Know? 5) Is that nature or nurture? 6) Who am I? Strike last for future consideration. Irrelevant to topic. Refocus.   "I'm not sure what I would want to hear, or why that would matter. The Truth exists outside of us." Their petals fluttered as he tried to keep his thoughts from drifting out of organization and into purple prose, "I'm not sure if what has been done can be undone without causing further damage, if it is even damage at all. From the perspective we occupy it seems like it is, but that is only one Point of View. However, I am... concerned that what is occurring is causing harm that we cannot see under normal circumstances. The Quarryman appeared to be damaged to portray the Role he had been cast in." Their fingers fluttered in distress, feeling an itch to write their thoughts into a static form, something she had staunchly refused to do for reasons she didn't quite understand. "As to erasing what is occurring," their shifting tone became mournful, "I do not wish for anything to be erased. Everything deserves a chance to Exist and be Known. The Quarryman was Forgotten by most, and to me this is worse than simple death. I am... worried that if we find that we must fix what has occurred, that more losses like this will follow without anyone at all to Remember. I would like to find a way to prevent such a thing if possible."

— Caustic