2019-11-03 - Welcome to Split Creek

The patisserie has been tastefully decorated for the Masquerade -- minimally, inside, so as not to clash with or undermine the usual decor and general vibe, but more so outside, where the small seating area has been transformed as well as his and Hyacinth Addington's joint talents could reasonably arrange. Which, in their case, means rather well, really. Certain portions do need tending to at close, however, and while 'move this there' is generally speaking a job Vyv assigns to someone... less him, he doesn't trust the final checks to anyone but himself, Carmen, or Liane. And, annoyingly, they're both down with the flu. So for another evening, it's him.

Heading back in through the front door, he locks it properly for the night and continues back toward the kitchen, stopping when something Off about the display case catches his attention. His eyes narrow as he registers what it is -- a book? "This is what happens when one lets one's employees study during lulls," he mutters, and opens the little gate to move in behind the counter, open the case, and extract the offending object. "Now what--" It breaks off when he notices he doesn't recognize the language; that's relatively rare, even with the ones he doesn't actually know. It stays broken off when the writing begins to make itself clear, his shoulders and his grip on the tome both tensing. "Oh."

He lifts his gaze to take a look around the shop, checking for anything out of place -- not the usual check, for stray napkins or misaligned chairs, but for any sign beyond the book that this is once again not reality as he knows it. Barring any other evidence, however, his attention moves back to the one item suggesting it, and he gingerly turns back the cover of the book to look inside.

Perfect is good. Perfect is how it ought to be. All right. It's a good start.

Some people might tell themselves that they were going to look through this diary for signs of who this Gordon Amherst might be in order to get it back to him, or to his family. Vyv has always felt that if people didn't want him to read or look at things, they wouldn't leave them where he could, which saves a lot of rationalization effort. It's there, and he's curious. Moreso when that date resolves, and his brows lift. 3013? The book doesn't look like he'd imagine 3013. It doesn't even much look like 2013, frankly. The actual words get a faint snort and shake of the head. Ye-es, write about your feelings. Always a productive use of one's time. Maybe 'they' were trying to trap the author...

And then what seems to be in front of him doesn't even make 2013 either. The self-translating writing was disconcerting enough; the change in apparent surroundings is worse, even feeling certain he's really still in his own shop. Might make it worse; not quite reality and not quite a Dream? He takes a subtle breath, and studies the young man for a few moments before he happens to glance down at himself. A jolt of deeper tension goes through him, hands tightening on the book, and he fights off the sudden urge to slam it shut. He is not wearing dusty flannel and developing wrinkles. It's an illusion. Of someone else. And are we going to let ourselves be rattled by illusions? No. We are not.

He glances down to the book again, to see if more words resolve themselves, or if he's going to have to go read over the redhead's shoulder. Or, you know. Talk to him. Either way, if the diary isn't forthcoming, he'll have to head farther into the... room. Which isn't really there; will he run into the counter if he tries? Hm.

As Vyv stands in the room, he notices something. The young man keeps writing but he doesn't "hear" the words. Instead, he can feel the scene shifting, see the room and fields outside the window starting to break down. Glitching out like it's some kind of Matrix scenario. And in the time it would take one to snap their fingers and blink their eyes - the whole scenario was different.

Now he was standing in some kind of hospital-like hallway, looking in through a two-way mirror. A man, very much the same man who he had just seen in the weird farmhouse thing, was laying on a bed. An odd device over his eyes. Maybe something akin to the Virtual Reality headsets that were coming out. He was seizing and a few doctors were rushing in to remove the device and to stop the seizing.

"Experiment 813. Gordon Amherst. Failed." The voice, Vyv realizes, is coming from himself. Except it isn't him. Isn't his voice. It must be another of these 'characters'. If Vyv looks down to where his hands are scrawling writing across a note page in a patient file he can see all the information about this Gordon Amherst, and surmise, from information in the top left corner of one of the pages, that they must be in a place called "Split Creek Asylum". And he hears words again. Like he's reading something.

Split Creek Asylum's slogan was "A healthy mind is a happy mind" and their brochures advocated top of line treatments to improve patient health and get them to a point where they could be reintegrated into the public. The truth was that the patients at Split Creek were nothing more than guinea pigs and fodder for the doctors and their various Better Than Life programs they were trying to perfect. No doubt so they could use them for something a little more sinister.

All right. This is... particularly odd. And he didn't get a look at what was being written, either. This doesn't feel like it follows -- doesn't feel like it would be more in Gordon's diary. His short stories, perhaps, but his diary? Vyv makes a mental note of the names -- the name of the man, the name of the asylum, the name of the programs being developed -- and glances around from the two-way mirror, taking in his own room and anyone with him before he looks back to presumably-Gordon. This feels perhaps a little more 3013ish, or at the least 2013ish.

Failed, he thinks, watching as the doctors tend to the man. What was it meant to do? If it was meant to be that situation he saw first, what does it mean that he, himself, was in both? Did it fail becase of him, or is he merely seeing... what? What's written in the diary? The earlier words murmur an echo in his head. Write about your feelings. That fits some sort of psychotherapy. 'They just want me to confess to something I didn't do'. That could surely be a use for false realities, no?

What would have been success?

Vyv pauses, eyes scanning the words 'he' is writing again, and lets his mind open, carefully; lets it stretch out, feeling for the presence of other conscious minds. In the patisserie, there should be none but his, none within the area he can cover.

As Vyv attempts to reach his mind out, he finds that he's unable to. His powers are, at least temporarily, inhibited. In the back of his mind he can hear the words of a book being read off the pages, as if he's reading them himself and it's all jumping to life before him. For the moment, he has a solid understanding that this is only a book. He should very much still be standing in the bakery. He even has the knowledge that he could close the book at any time.

He can feel the scene before him shifting again. He is standing in a board room, a group of people in suits sitting at a long table. He's in front of a projector where a video is currently playing. Some kind of advertisement for Split Creek by the sound of it. As the scene plays out, he can still hear the books words. He can catch a reflection of himself in the window and he may be able to assume he is that doctor again.

Doctor Wisen was a knowledgeable man. An expert in his field and lead of the BTL Research Team at Split Creek. He didn't invent the process of this particular Reality Altering program, but he has made leaps and bounds in improvements. He nearly had the whole world fooled. Except for me, of course. I was determined to find a way in. A way to get to Gordon. The easiest way, was here at this meeting. Play a role, get an in with the doctor.

Vyv could close the book. And for a moment, when the attempt to use his powers fails, the urge to do so isn't a trivial one. That's something to think so in itself, later. But for now, there's this, and he's far too inquisitive a man to let this go yet. And, for that matter, generally quite likes getting engrossed in the world of a book. It just isn't generally quite like this.

Doctor Wisen, he thinks, adding that to his mental notes, and studies the people in suits -- investors, perhaps, or directors? -- and he lets the scene play out as it will, for now.

As the scene continues on, Vyv can feel the words of the book fading a little. Less like he's reading them and more like he's really living them. This was real wasn't it? Pitching his work, his progress, to these potential new investors and some members of the board? Maybe Vyv was just a dream. The bakery, Gray Harbor. Maybe these things were the conjuring of an active imagination. Or a test in the BTL system. Maybe he really was Doctor Wisen. Alarm bells ringing in the recesses of Vyv's mind. Like a klaxon perhaps. It wasn't too late to close the book. It wasn't too late to get back to the shop. Or maybe he'd wake up in his office. The lines were feeling blurry.

Vyv knows who he is. Others may have regularly wished he were someone else over the years, but it's over half Vyv's life since he was last truly unsure of himself, since he felt the pillars of his identity shake. And that -- more than breathing buildings or freezing mirror creatures or goblin things or homicidal bones -- that is terrifying. Loath as he might be to show or admit it, he's been scared in Dreams before, but this is the first time he's felt that welling of panic up through his chest, into his throat.

A sharp breath, and the book slams shut in his hands. It almost feels of its own accord, though he knows it isn't; it's that klaxon sounding in the distant corners of his mind, taking control. Almost immediately his jaw tenses, shoulders squaring, and he wills his hands to whip the thing back open. That feels much more his own.

The book closes and Vyv is very abruptly back in the bakery. The book also looks different than it did before. Instead of the weird diary it was a beige colored hard cover book with strange writing on it that shifts and writhes until it says Welcome to Split Creek.

The book opens back up easily and it picks up right where he left off. In that board room. The scene shifts a few more times. To the role of the narrator, back to the doctor, even to Gordon. With each shift Vyv can feel that familiar doubt. He stays strong, but eventually, the desire to never close the book grows strong enough that he knows if he doesn't close the book something terrible is bound to happen and he's got too much going for him to do that!

So he slams the book closed. Outside it's dark, the only light coming from a nearby street lamp. It's definitely past time to go home. He feels disoriented, at the very least. Maybe somewhat shaken. If it wasn't obvious before, he certainly knows now that this book is a much a part of the Veil.

When he reflects later, if he reflects later, on the whole experience - he would realize something. That at least two or three times there were particular characters that stood out. That seemed like they saw him for him and not the character role he was in. Like they were surprised. But maybe it was just a trick of the book lightning.

Vyv definitely reflects later on the experience -- on the book itself and the contents, and eventually, on those possibly-surprised characters. Were they more real, somehow? Or Veil creatures, in a way the rest of the book's contents weren't? The book comes home with him, but for the time being, it's settled into a drawer. Virtually on its own, safe from anything else in the apartment, relatively safe from him. And himself relatively safe from it.

Soon, he'll need to figure out who best to talk to about this, or bring it to. For now, however... he needs a drink.