Reséa's writing is generally florid, patient, and positivist. She made a decision in the wake of the extinction that she would be a rallying voice for her people, so as a general rule she has not strayed from that. This sharply contrasts her pre-catastrophe writing, which was (if professional) strict and compliant, or (if not) nihilistic and pondering. The Vendashro is chiefly the story of the coming of age of Reséa, Gleméa, Haplenía, and other key figures of the early Lilitai, and their transformation from critical children into adults. This is reflected in her writing; the beginning of the document shows her antisocial considerations, but it quickly evolves into an optimistic, populist rhetoric. Reséa believes the universe abides by a natural order, but one that can only be discovered through hard work. Each individual must discover where she belongs. Reséa does not always have all the answers her people require, and while she is excellent at hiding her fear, she is often plagued by anxiety about how to use her craft and position of respect to their best effect.
Íora is blunt, terse, and what we might call post modern. She deconstructs and remains quick to poke fun at things. She would be at home among the Cynics of ancient Greece. This is part of the critical apparatus of Fringe-era Lilitic society, of course: Íora's criticisms keep the government under Gleméa from going too far and being ridiculous. Between her and Reséa, the psychology of these individuals is directly imparted onto social policy. That said, Íora becomes something of an accumulation of vice, with her many failed relationships and chronic alcoholism, and she is often outright depressed. Íora is aware of how her opposition is necessary for the society to continue, and is at times happy to play the villain and at others miserable because of feeling her life is not hers to control; that she must be bitter and unhappy to save others from blissful ignorance. She may even feel used by the Matriarchs and Sarthía because of this. Íora believes that natural order is a superficial social construct. It is more important that people evolve over time, and they should accept that nothing in life is constant.
Kona's writing might be easily mistaken for that of Reséa's at first, but its subject matter quickly diverges toward themes familiar to fascists, Machiavellians, and Nietzscheans. Both use conservative grammar and word choice to strong rhetorical effect, but Kona lacks Reséa's delicacy, choosing instead to admire powerful figures, and emphasizes a natural order that is exact, knowable, and concrete. Kona believes that no two individuals are equal, and hence it is hypocrisy for any of their interactions to be conducted on equal terms; there must always be one who is high and one who is low. This is the basis for most of her moralistic patterns and manifests repeatedly in her values: honourifics must be used, partners cannot be equal in romance or sexuality, real deities (in contrast with Reséa's self-described book of fantasies) control existence, and the Lilitai must prioritize rebuilding an Empire and conquer the known universe. Kona is obsessed with avenging the Ksreskézai, and her primary dream is conquest of the Hogedep.