A strange figure stands before you, a whirlwind of conflicting energy and vibes. Manic and dignified, friendly and intimidating - she’s dressed like some sort of quasi-Victorian text-themed aristocrat. You couldn’t imagine what the dateviators might make of your thoughts transcribed on paper, but if you could it would likely have not been this. As you approach her she launches right into what feels like the middle of a one-sided conversation.

“Why do you ask?”

She then noticed you and got startled.

AHHHH!

She then began rambling.

But the blue one. The blue one, and then the butterfly. Why is there so much sand? Why is there always sand in places where sand should never be…?