It's an ordinary early autumn night in New York: chilly; not uncomfortably so, yet, but promising to get colder as the season wears on. A scruffy, long-haired vagabond emerges from the shadows in the alley behind a clothing store, unhesitatingly enters the passcode to disarm its security system, quickly picks the lock, and goes quietly in.
<PennyLane> Well
<PennyLane> What if it's all in people's heads?
<PennyLane> Like, that's crazy, right? It's a physical condition, it makes no sense
<PennyLane> But Bedlam is the goddess of chaos and madness, right?
<PennyLane> What if it's people going mad that does it?
<PennyLane> Losing hope, or even, what if just by believing they're turning into Picassos they do
<PennyLane> And then all the DoS-originated paranoia is not only useless, it's actively dangerous
<argylecape> Could be. Sadde turned when they were upset and scared. And that sometimes happens with capes.
<argylecape> I'm not sure, though. One of the picassos I've heard was scared of turning but the others were doing different things.
<PennyLane> Right, that's why it's not super obvious that it's true
<PennyLane> But I think I'm onto something
<PennyLane> Just not sure what
<argylecape> Okay. Talk to you later.
She goes about her evening, and resumes her stakeout late the following morning.
<GenderBender> Hey!
<GenderBender> So I found some info on Montgomery
<GenderBender> Turns out he used to work for the D.o.S. but he's listed as missing
<GenderBender> It's a very very tiny note, though, apparently he didn't really have lots of people who missed him
<GenderBender> He was only reported as missing when he failed to show up to work for a whole week without notice
And there's a link to a short news article on this.