#sqarletwrites

Unfortunately, not every engine who glimpses such happenings gets to move on so merrily. It may be nothing most of the time, but sometimes, it is something. But the Veil is not a harsh thing. To ascribe it a will is a rather uncertain exercise. Here - as we've gleaned from a few of our beloved railfolk - is the closest we suspect we shall get to a document of the Veil's workings. At least, those that concern the railfolk.

- Mr. and Mrs. Calne

Firstly: "Thinning Out"

Notes courtesy of conversation with Edward, Henry, and Rusty

Think of the Veil like a piece of thick fabric. Ordinarily, no light passes through. If the sun is especially bright, you may see a cloudy light on the other side. Sometimes, though, the Veil "thins out".

It might thin in a place, around a person, or - far more fascinatingly - in the eyes of a fellow.

In a place, there is a fixedness to the effect. A uniform common axis along which "thinness" scales. In some places, the fabric thins out like a bedsheet - you can see light filtering through, maybe even silhouettes on the other side if they are sufficiently backlit. The fabric remains intact, but the light is there and you can just glimpse the fabric.

Too much thinner, though, and you start getting holes. They are quite rare, but they do happen. The holes aren't big - no bigger than a pinhead or maybe a five pence, conceptually - but they are there, and you can see clean through.

Author's Note: Edward sent us a note of clarification after our conversation. We have added it here:

"I described all this as three sorts of thing, but as I was mulling it over, it's only two. The second was just the first all over again. We seldom think of a person as a place, but as a far as the Veil is concerned, I think a person can be a location of sorts. The Veil might thin around a person in the same way it thins in parts of Henry's Forest, or the old line Mr. Bailey tends. It's a strange sort of thing, they might not be aware - I wasn't for a long time. Now that I know, though, it's rather painfully obvious. It's like someone is holding on to you, but through a thick winter glove."

So much for the notion of "thinning" itself, at least as regards a locus. It is in the eyes of a person - all railfolk, in these cases - that the subject becomes quite fantastic and incredulous.

Examples present courtesy of Edward and Henry

Golden Sight

One's individual perception can thin too. Such perception varies in degree, but the whole gamut is colloquially (and quietly) called the "golden sight".

The degree is a number of "layers" stripped from the entire fabric. Unlike matters of place, though, the Veil itself is not thinned - only the one soul's perception of it.

The short rule of thumb is: "How far you can see comes from how far you have seen." It's a touch counterintuitive, but apparently such sight usually occurs when something else invites it.

Degree 1: Stage Curtains

The most common gold-sight is a light thinning of the fabric - a heightened intuition, a keener sense for when something is a bit to the left of normal. Hearing shuffling behind the stage curtains, so to speak - barely audible, but there.

Rarely, some are born this way. Most cases acquire it, often after stumbling upon a location where the Veil is already thin.

NB: The rule of thumb - if a person has glimpsed light on the other side of the sheet, enough to know that there is a sheet (even subconsciously), that awareness is now relatively permanent. They will be aware when that sheet rustles, and they will notice when the light peeks through the weave.

This sight may range from entirely subconscious to entirely conscious.

Dear Edward has acquired the conscious variety. In his estimation, he is "entirely, uncomfortably aware that there is a sheet. [Edward] has witnessed some exceptionally thin parts of that sheet. [Edward] wishes he could go back to ignoring the sheet, but the sheet continues to make sheet noises every time he's almost managed to put it out of mind."

Other examples: Skarloey, Rheneas, Donald and Douglas

Degree 2: The Pinhole

Another degree forward grants the first proper extension of sight: when there is a true hole in the fabric, and someone - even just for a second - looks through.

Once glimpsed, they will forever catch snatches and glimmers of the other side, even through the tiniest of gaps in the weave. Every imperceptible hole to us is now just big enough that when the light hits it right, they might catch a glimpse through it and see something else.

Here lies the highest variance of "stripped layers". Someone might only get a light sheering out where the sheet remains fairly thick, and only in places where it's already thin do they find holes. On the other end, the entire fabric might grow so thin that the light becomes blinding, so bright that it becomes hard to tell what's on which side of it.

Henry places himself "somewhere in the lower middle" of this spectrum. He "keeps catching little pinprick rays of sunlight from the other side of the sheet, showing him things he doesn't expect to see." It began after his crash with the Flying Kipper. The severity of his description seems greater than "lower middle", but perhaps it has faded over time, or reduced as he was repaired?

"The fabric slowly became a weave, and the weave a hundred little holes, and I could see through all of them. I woke up a long time after, I think."

Author's Note: Henry is a rather unusual case, it seems. He termed his experience as a "momentary death", not "near death" as we had heard elsewhere. We did not question it at the time, but his choice of words certainly puzzles us.

Most variations of golden sight appear to be extensions of this sliding scale.

At a minimum, you might have a peculiar awareness of holes, and an accidental propensity to keep glancing through those holes. At maximum, giant swaths of fabric thin out to a threadbare mesh - more holes than fabric - and so wide you could reach through.

"Reality becomes difficult to anchor - it becomes maddening and disorienting and terrifying, to feel like you are in a dream and cannot wake up." - Quoted by Splatter; spoken by someone else?

Other examples: Duncan, Rusty

Author's Note: This is where our notes end. I doubt we shall acquire anything further at this time, unless we hear back from Splatter again. He and his brother seemed to have more to say, but we haven't seen them in some time.

A small signature of hastily bound pages is paperclipped to the last entry. A note is taped in the front of the signature.

We didn't have much chance to make these neat. I'm not sure what's happening. This should be in someone else's hands before anything else happens. Boss hasn't been himself lately (worse than usual, something's up). Keep these private for now, yeah? - [name illegible. Initial "D" clear]

The contents of the signature is a rapidly scrawled transcript of some kind.

Degree 3: The Scalpel

It's messy, but it'll need to do. These are all from the Boss himself. Had to paraphrase some of them, most are verbatim. It's pretty heady, but this whole thing is too absurd for anything else. Kinda broken too, but so is Boss.

"The utmost extreme? More than mere thin fabric. No longer are you simply seeing through holes, but cutting your own."

"Eyes become like awls. A pair of scissors. My own have dulled. They'll break someday and leave me with half-stitched tatters and rough-cut cloth."

"The gentlest, softest lapse from pinhole to pin is a fine awl. It pries through holes and pushes them open. The harshest? A razor that simply cuts. The veil loses meaning. It falls away wherever you look. If you can't control when the razor cuts - and you can't - reality ceases to be concrete. Waking in dreaming, dreaming in waking, there is no difference that you can grasp. [. . .] You could be on either side of the tattered curtain."

[Break]

"Maybe it only stops being solid in ways we can understand? Perhaps it gets more real, more concrete. [. . .] solidifying in strata of crushing sediment to cage you alive and fossilize you in a single frame of time to watch time immemorial."

[Break]

"The surgeon's scalpel is precise. It cuts when the surgeon decides. But no one is lucky enough to be a surgeon here. [. . .] You may have the scalpel, but never the precision, never the restraint to keep the Veil from sheering away like steam off a hot pan. Close your eyes and pray someone takes the blade."

"Having seen too far [. . .] you are changed. Who gets hurt most when you can't tell which side of the sheet you're on, I wonder?"

[Break]

"The world may become more colorful, bursting and overflowing with strange and wonderful things which no one else can seem to see. But you cannot tell what others can and cannot see anymore. You cannot tell what the most fundamental, dullest layer of the world is any longer. There is too much. Too beautiful, too vast, too alive, too glorious for your mind to wrap around. It's enough to break your head open.

"And it will.

"The world may become horrifying, haunted with histories and not-yet-stories and shadows of was and will-be and are and are-not. It may be stained with flowering blood and foaming with tears joyful and despairing. You cannot tell what is and what is not, what will be and what only might be, what could be from what shall be. There is too much. Too horrible, too mysterious, too deep, too dark, too terrible for your mind to wrap around. It's enough to break your head open.

"And it will."

[And it did.]

There is a folded sheet of paper in the very back of the notebook, tucked tightly behind the added signature. It seems more recent than anything else in the notebook. Even so, repeated folds crease the page, and the paper is soft and tattered from wear. The writing is rough, erased several times, and brief.

The margins and rest of the page are filled with strange, child-like sketches - sunflowers, trees, watery swirls, and other odd things. Where words couldn't, it seems pictures had to do, scribbled in dark pencil and smudged by someone's palm. Or, perhaps, they are nothing in particular.

A Different Tilt: Waking in Dreaming

We don't know what happened to us. It's not what '10 has. But it's different from the others too. We see things, sometimes feel things. But most of the time everything is normal. Percy has dreams so often now. Bad dreams. (Strange dreams.) Sometimes he can't seem to wake up. (Sometimes I can't move.) Sometimes he wakes up screaming. Sometimes I do too. I don't dream as much, but it happens. I don't see whatever he's seeing though. (I don't know what I'm seeing either.) Whatever happened in October, it's something changed? I don't know what happened to '10 afterwards. We haven't seen him. (Haven't seen Splatter and Dodge either.) I don't know if that's good or bad. (Those two were nice. I hope they're ok.) It's like someone left fingerprints on the very edge of our minds. (All over the back of my eyes. Sometimes her lines tickle.) (Sometimes my arms feel heavy like gold. Sometimes I think I have three eyes, pointy like golden pins. Sometimes the back of my mind warms like a gilded tree and the waves blink at me.)

Before they can actually kill anyone, though, Astotheles shows up with the cricket and damselfly from earlier, and send the two running with a couple hefty strikes. Neither seem bothered. 

The trio picks themselves out of the sand to see Astotheles helping a very groggy Zasp sit up, and the paper wasp informs them that someone else already stole the first half of the key from the Ant Kingdom, though not without a fight. Everyone is mostly fine, it wasn’t a full scale attack – it was the work of a cricket thief who they didn’t catch in time. Zasp attempted to tackle him on the way out and got a pair of heavy-handed hits, a cracked mandible, and a dislocated shoulder for his trouble. 

Astotheles confirms that the two bugs that just ran off were indeed Xera and Lapido themselves, and that Zasp’s description of the thief sounds like one of his former bandits – not Chari himself, but one of his more dangerous dragonflies.

The next bit mimics the original plot – between the five of them (seven technically, but the captains are keeping watch), they conclude that these hooded folk are likely working from somewhere in the Far Grasslands, as that’s the most… untamed territory and the least monitored or known. It’s the most viable as a base of operations for whatever this strange group is. In a moment of realization mixed with speculation, Astotheles says he suspects these bugs may be a cult of some kind, and promptly does not elaborate.

Team Snakemouth manages to convince Astotheles to lend a hand here, as he’s knowledgeable on his former captain and knows as much or more than they do about this grey-cloak group. The bandit leader agrees (with significant reservation) to meet the trio at the Far Grasslands, but for obvious reasons can’t accompany them back to the Ant Kingdom. His captains offer to go in his stead or accompany him, but he gently declines, opting to leave them in charge of the hideout. 

Team Snakemouth and Zasp head back to the Ant Kingdom to touch base with Queen Elizant II (and also to heal). Mothiva tries and fails to disguise her worry over Zasp, and clearly wasn’t thrilled about his little journey to begin with. The conversation proceeds, and Maki insists on accompanying them to the Far Grasslands (a worrying development for Team Snakemouth, but they opt not to mention Astotheles’ hand in things). 

When they get there, things again proceed as normal for a while, with Astotheles following the team from cover. 

The Devourer still happens, though it seems like it's been intentionally stirred up. Astotheles clearly also has Thoughts™ on Kabbu's decision, but doesn't really get a chance to voice them.

(I am... still on the fence on the writing there and whether or not I like how Kabbu's end was handled, but that's for another AU lol) 

The Wasp Kingdom:

Now, the wasps aren’t the same level of antagonistic in this, but they aren’t quite friendly either. Initially, Maki recommends they try and sneak around the nest – his earlier scouting turned up promising routes for avoiding detection. Even so, that’s easier said than done with how high-alert the wasps are. They also rapidly conclude that the Wasp Kingdom is in some disarray. It seems like things are crumbling at the foundations – renegade groups, skittish guards, and a general feeling of unrest.

Consequently, Vanessa II has had most of her focus internal to the kingdom, and has apparently not noticed the grey-cloaks hiding in her backyard. The wasp guards are either unaware or silent, and neither option is good. 

Team Snakemouth, of course, also has to avoid the grey-cloaks, and those routes Maki originally scouted are no longer viable. They realize quickly that they can’t sneak past these bugs – against any normal, sane probability, they’re better off trying to sneak through the city than around it. Enter stealth mission the second. 

Maki accompanies team Snakemouth, and Astotheles is left to make use of his stealth to keep up. Astotheles mostly sticks with them, and uses his own stealth and sleight of hand to help the team get elsewhere, but it’s clear he’s having some difficulty both keeping up and not alerting Maki to his presence and staying hidden in general. All five get about halfway through without too much fuss. 

Soon, though, they run out of diggable ground and have to stealth the normal-bug way, and in so doing run into Jayde. Her Bug Ranger enthusiasm still gives them a mask (she gives Maki a pass as “a friend of the Rangers is a friend of mine!”). She mentions that someone must have heard her pleas, because she’s been worried about the kingdom. It’s not that bad yet, but she’s not confident it’ll stay that way. The queen, while aware of the unrest, doesn't seem sure how to manage it. The wasp soldiers are agitated, and there have been some… disappearances. Soldiers who never reported back in, civilians who should be here and aren’t, even whole groups of wasps that just… vanished. Some had murmured about leaving and “offers” and “opportunities,” others had never said anything remotely close. Team Snakemouth suspects that this is the same sort of split that befell the bandits, but Astotheles later remarks that some of those disappearances smell of a different sort of trouble. 

As they’re trying to sneak out, Team Snakemouth spots Xera talking to General Fuff. Outwardly, Fuff is cold and professional. Once the jewel wasp leaves, saying something about “consider my offer,” he seems… perturbed. He slumps a bit and he’s evidently uneasy. He also catches on to Team Snakemouth’s presence fairly quick and demands they show themselves. He’s extremely wary and not thrilled about their sneaking around, but evidently isn’t as bothered about them as he is about the wasp he was talking to. He refuses to let them pass without more information, though, and threatens to call the troops on them if they don't start talking. 

Vanessa II arrives at this point upon hearing the commotion, and is curious as to their mission. She is intrigued to hear their explanation, but not before inquiring about the “fifth friend in the shadows.” Astotheles emerges very reluctantly, with one eye on Maki. The mantis wisely opts to save his questions for later. 

Fuff suggests they move somewhere a little more private, glancing warily at the exit Xera left through, and Vanessa II ushers them to her own room. 

After Team Snakemouth cautiously tells General Fuff and Vanessa II about their current situation, Fuff relaxes a bit. He and Vanessa II are still clearly wary of them, but more optimistic about Team Snakemouth (if only because they’re allied with another kingdom rather than a mysterious group of questionable bugs). 

Much of the information about the grey-cloaks is new to Vanessa II, though Fuff is more up to speed on them and had been trying to figure out how to inform her. The queen is also perturbed by their relay from Jayde, and assures them that she's trying to iron out the instabilities, though her success is so far middling. She suspects that maybe, just maybe, the introduction of a common threat in these cloaked bugs could help unify the kingdom, though she's not sure about it.

After some more discussion, Vanessa II agrees to let them pass, directing Fuff to escort them to the nearest (and safest) exit so they can bypass the grey-cloaks. She also mentions an interest in perhaps conversing with one of the other queens by way of advice, though only as an issue for later.