Transcribe more writing

Signed-off-by: Danila Fedorin <danila.fedorin@gmail.com>

content/writing/thevoid.md

@@ -42,7 +42,29 @@ Other promising avenues of research also grew in popularity over the following d
 
 Following much trial error, adolescent adventurers mapped the frontiers of {{< thevoid "Void" >}} synthesis. Though the full specification is not particularly relevant, of note was the requirement for the base to be made of a mixture of sodas, and another for the final mixture to contain at least two sandwich ingredients. Orange juice, though sweet and liquid, did not catalyze the reaction, though Orange Fanta did, even if it was completely flat.
 
-The precise definition of what constituted a "sandwich" briefly created a deep schism among the alchemists. Was a grilled cheese sandwich __really__ a sandwich?
+---
+
+If all properties hereto described were the only notable aspects of the {{< thevoid "Void" >}}, it would have been a mere curiosity. Late-night History Channel shows might have shown it along theories of ancient aliens or telepath, filling inattentive viewers' dimly lit homes with comfortable background noise. The substance, however, had one final, crucial aspect. The discovery was made -- as is often the case -- in the midst of conflict.
+
+The two parties could not be more different. One group consistent of the boys from Mr. Thompson's physics class. They were skinny, bespectacled, and dressed in graphic t-shirts and jeans. The other group was made up up the boys from Mrs. Leonard's biology class; they were skinny, bespectacled, and dressed in graphic t-shirts and jeans. Naturally, the two factions were sworn enemies.
+
+One rainy West Coast day, the two groups were engaging in customary lunch-break {{< thevoid "Void" >}}-viewing. By then, participants in the activity were relegated to the floors of a hallway in the back of the school, their sustain interested in staring-into-space taking on toll on their reputation. They were making use of advanced techniques; by then, experts were able to influence the {{< thevoid "Void" >}} not only to change color, but to form into shimmering images. The Thompsonians were constructing an image of a Christmas tree; the Leonardese were working on The Funniest Image Image to Ever Exist (something phallic).
+
+Neither group was having much luck. The tree's trunk was consistently much too short, and its bottom too curvy. The phallus, conversely, was quite sharp and somehow sickly looking. Each side mocked the other relentlessly. It took the insult-hurlers from the two camps several back-and-forth trips to realize the images they were ridiculing and the images their friends were conjuring were one and the same.
+
+---
+
+The {{< thevoid "Void" >}}'s interconnectedness led to a renaissance of sorts. By sticking to a specific and precise recipe, one could reliably come back over and over to the same "place" in the infinite blackness. Painstakingly painted pictures persisted into the next day, and anyone with the same recipe could tune in to see. Enthusiaests rushed to claim recipes most affordable on modest allowances. Registries of locations and ingredients were posted on bulletin boards, written in bathroom stalls, tossed around as crumpled paper balls in class. Even those who had previously shunned the alchemists were drawn back into the fold by the promise of conjuring images of their own for others to see.
+
+---
+
+It was not until weeks later that the first glimpses of a post-{{< thevoid "Void" >}} future revealed themselves, to no one's attention or particular interest. A groggy, not-yet-caffeinated Mrs. Leonard walking into class one day to find a sea of red fabric. Nearly every girl in the morning section showed up to class that day waring a red dress ~~all of a similar style~~. Not a single one of the students could provide a concrete method by which they chose the day's wardrobe; feelings, whims, and even coin-flipping were cited as reasons for wearing the outfit. What's more, the same happened in Mr. Thompson's class, and in a number of scattered schools throughout the country.
+
+Being a scientist at heart, and rejecting wholeheartedly the possibility of coincidence of paranormal involvement, Mrs. Leonard spent the rest of the day distractedly overcorrecting for her earlier lack of coffee. At lunch she pondered about mass hysteria; while grading papers she envisioned a convert mind-control test by some three-letter agency. Nevertheless, a satisfying answer eluded her, and she came home jittery and defeated. Walking past her son's room she noted that he was indulging in his habitual {{< thevoid "Void" >}}-gazing. In the depths of the pitch-black bowl, the glimpsed swirls of that very same shade of red.
+
+---
+
+The mechanism that precipitated the red-dress curiosity was not all that sinister. The {{< thevoid "Void" >}}, it seemed, was not unlike an ocean. In hot weather, it absorbed the heat, and cooled the surroundings. In cold weather, it released the stored heat to mitigate the chill. After a day in which red was prevalent in the collective thoughts of {{< thevoid "Void" >}}-viewers, the color dissipated like heat through the material of the dark realm, was stirred somehow by the convection of its hidden currents, and re-entered the minds of practitioners in its altered form. They averted their gazes and went to put on red clothes.
 
 ---
 
@@ -57,8 +79,9 @@ Unused text below here.
 
 
 
-
+All influences on a particular recipe of the Void, all shifts in color and mood, were interconnected for any given recipe.
 
 Another property of the {{< thevoid "Void" >}} was discovered shortly thereafter, when a particularly brave adventurer attempted to get a closer look at the patterns by dipping his head in an entire bowl of the stuff. Almost immediately, he recoiled, shouting. Just above his eyebrow were four small wounds, arranged in a neat line. They had been left by the fork from the arcade.
 
 
+The precise definition of what constituted a "sandwich" briefly created a deep schism among the alchemists. Was a grilled cheese sandwich __really__ a sandwich?