OKAY IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING A LITERAL MONTH TO ANSWER BUT ALSO YOU TOTALLY KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN ASKING THIS TO ME--

Unsettling. Distressing. Gruesomely /familiar/. Nothing a piece of art should ever make her feel.

And Raven would have been able to forget about it if it weren't for the moment she laid her eyes on the artist behind such canvas. The more she asked about her, the more she learnt from other operators about her, the more goosebumps she got from observing her-- she didn't even want to get close, and yet, every time they were on the same space, she also didn't want to leave her unchecked for even a second.

What was Rhodes Island's deal, exactly? At first, Raven assumed they didn't know-- she never doubted her own instincts, though she didn't /want/ to believe it either. There was only one type of beings that made her feel that way, and they all looked /very/ different in her memory, so what did that mean? Where did that leave Supporter Operator Deepcolor?

Where did that leave the monsters she knew?

--It was terrifying. Horrorizing.

The mere thought that, if what every fiber of her being told her was right, then /they/ were already able to mix in between /them/ this much. This easily.

And eventually, Kal'tsit called her to talk about it ('Ah. So they knew, after all'). To ask her to stop the Liberi's very obvious animosity, or rather, to stop said animosity and hatred from turning into actions. Raven wasn't happy about it, but she also reassured the lynx of something-- of the only thing she could:

''...I don't need the reminder. I know what happens when you kill one of them.''