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cube-cumb3r · 2 months ago

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part 2: What's the deal with Manneq- SIMULTANEOUS PARALLEL REALITY THEORY IM CRAZY IM CRAZYIM CRAZY IM CRAZY

This is the second part of me trying to make sense of the Mannequins in ENA. Read pt. 1 here, if you want. Or don't!

I'm not entirely satisfied with the explanation of "Mannequins are spawnpoints" because it doesn't really explain how the Mannequins got there in the first place. How did so many Mannequins coincidentally end up near locations where it just so happens that Ena is likely to respawn?

I pondered a little bit about the role of Mannequins in the Youtube series as well, and if I could tie that into their role in the game. To my knowledge, there's only one episode where the Mannequins make an appearance, and that's Temptation Stairway.

I don't think about Ulysses often. The most I think about him is the fact that the song that plays when Ena talks to him is such a peculiar banger. But, given that he's the first character in the Youtube series to mention Doors before their existence got fully elaborated on in the game, perhaps more of his dialogue isn't just ominous and strange nonsense.

One of his lines is (paraphrased) "But heed this warning: desires are never fulfilled, nor quenched. You will fail. Like the rest of them."

So who is the rest of them? (other than Moony?) Taking the video at face value, the answer seems pretty simple, it's the Mannequins. They can be seen climbing the Great Runas in the beginning of the episode, and then later on her way, Ena walks past some lifeless ones in various places in a similar manner they are found in Dream BBQ, or they're... lamenting? In this strange space?

Other than that, without any further context, there doesn't seem to be that much to say about the Mannequins in Temptation Stairway, they seem to just be Mannequins. They're these sort of anonymous and ambiguous figures that also seem to have the same goal as Ena, reaching the Great Runas. All of which are failing, it seems.

After Ena meets Ulysses, she of course meets the Shephard who says her infamous "Arghh... another ENA troublemaker." line, which has of course been interpreted to mean millions of things. That being said, literally moments after this scene, we see other Enas when Ena enters the holy code. It seems sensible to assume these are the Enas she's talking about. (Because of Species Theory TM, no one ever really asks how they got here, why they look nearly identical to our Ena, and why they're unmoving. But that's besides the point.)

Most importantly for the purpose of this post, for some frames, they glitch into Mannequins.

(I would be remiss if I did not mention that right after this sequence, there's a data matrix on the wall that when decoded says "FORGET YOUR PAST". Make of that what you will.)

We already know there are multiple simultaneous instances of Ena in some manner, given that the Shepherd has met multiple of them. Given where the Shepherd is located and based on her dialogue, it's likely too that the Enas she met were also attempting to reach the Great Runas as well. That's another set of individuals that are attempting to reach this divine being, other than the Mannequins (and Moony).

So, when Ulysses says "You will fail, like the rest of them", maybe he's talking about the lifeless Mannequins that Ena walks past on her way to the Great Runas. Or, maybe he's talking about the other Enas that can be seen in the holy code. Or you know, both.

Or, perhaps, there's no difference between the two.

Time and reality seems to be a bit weird in the world of Ena. When talking to the remnants of the former Genie, she will offer her memories, to show Ena a reality where Ena did succeed. And this "reality" is (presumably) the reality where Ena had successfully reached the Bathroom, and the events play out the same as if you had done so.

This seems to imply that despite the fact that the sequence of events that led to Ena successfully reaching the Bathoom was not something the Ena you're currently playing as ever experienced, given that the Genie describes it as "her memories", from her perspective, it still happened. Both realities seem to co-exist.

What does that have to do with Mannequins? Well,

Here's my crazypants Theory. Rather Mannequins being a "spawnpoint", they're rather sort of... glimpses of other realities or timelines.

This Mannequin is found on the path that Ena was quite literally walking on before she stops, and she nearly gets caught under the falling structure from above. Perhaps in another alternate sequence of events she didn't stop, and kept walking. And that's what that Mannequin is.

Or this Mannequin found on the other side of the bridge, underneath the floating platforms leading up to the Orb. Perhaps in alternate sequence of events, Ena did end up falling while attempting to ascend to the Orb.

In fact, you can even experience this in-game. If you fall while attempting to climb up, you will "teleport" back to various checkpoints at different points of the ascent. So what if it's not "teleportation" that is happening, but rather you are being "transported" to a version of reality where she didn't fall. Whatever you just experienced did not happen to this Ena. But, you can still see evidence of this having happened, in some version of reality, when you look at the tops of these buildings.

(edit 5/5/25:) A new patch came out today which added a new interaction with the file compressor, where you can compress files more and more until they explode, causing Ena to stumble backwards after which you "respawn" in the center of the roundabout again.

Interestingly enough, with this new interaction they also a new lifeless Mannequin, which can be found dismembered exactly where Ena would've been blown up by this zip bomb. Even more interestingly, this dismembered mannequin is already there even before you've interacted with the zip compressor. As if it's already happened. But not to you. (Yet.) (end of edit)

(Now, I am aware that it's an absurd claim to suggest every single Mannequin here is parallel Ena. That might not be plausible. But I think it's sensible to assume at least some of the Mannequins we see across the series and game may be.)

When the broken Genie shows you a different reality, if you talk to Unforgiven Frank next to the ship, he will still recall your earlier interaction, despite the fact that in the reality where you succeeded in reaching the Bathroom, you would've never encountered him in the Lost Village.

So, it seems these are not distinct and separate realities, but somehow both true at once. Similarly to how the realities where Ena fell in a river or a pit, and the realities where she didn't, are both simultaneously true. And similarly how the Shephard has already met Ena, even if this Ena has not met the Shephard.

Does she retain anything across iterations? Does she collectively experience all of them at once, or just one at a time? It seems for the most part, Ena does not have information that she would've obtained in any parallel iteration of herself, because she needs to ask for it, this is the case in both Temptation Stairway and Dream BBQ. But it seems in some cases she does have information from sequences of events she herself has not experienced, like how she can aspire for Frank's forgiveness despite never having met him (though of course, maybe they already met prior to the events of Dream BBQ.) Perhaps it's as the Shaman said, while perhaps she can, if she were experiencing all of them simultaneously, she would be lost in her own mind.

This theory is not rock solid, there's some things that still don't quite make sense. If you're up on the Orb Island after ascending, you can quite literally jump down all the way to the bottom and be fine, so why would another iteration Ena not make it from falling during her climb? Or, if Mannequins are supposed to represent Ena from other versions of reality, wouldn't you expect lifeless Mannequins to be found at, say, the bottom of the rivers and pits, rather than hanging off the edges? Though, since the Mannequin "inside" Ena seems to be able to "emerge" from her body, perhaps that could be the explanation for this conundrum.

With all this said, there seems to be a natural conclusion to this theory. Under the assumption that the Enas we see suspended in the holy code in Temptation Stairway are Enas that "failed" in their task, like the rest of them (like the rest of them) like the rest of them... What does that actually mean for Ena at the end of Dream BBQ?

I'm sure everyone has noticed the shot we see at the end of the game is nearly the exact same as the one in Temptation Stairway. There's other Mannequins as well, also suspended in the holy code. The conclusion of this theory seems therefore to suggest that the Ena we see at the end of Dream BBQ never actually made it out of Uncanny Streets at all. She got stuck behind the Lonely Door. Failed, like the rest of them, alongside the other Mannequins we see floating in that space.

It's a sensible assumption that the hand that reaches out and grabs this Ena-Mannequin is "taking" her and "placing" her back in the body of the Mannequin in the hub. But what if even that isn't true? What if the Ena "emerging" out of the Mannequin in the Hub isn't her "respawning", but rather, she is an entirely different instance of Ena that never left the Hub in the first place? Whatever happened to the Ena in the Lonely Door still happened, but not to this Ena.

Which seems to prompt a question that no other theory would need to ask. Where is that hand taking this other Ena?

#ena #ena dream bbq #ena dbbq #lowk implausible as hell theory but this is real to me #its so close to being coherent its SO CLOSE #i feel like im in the ballpark like ive almost figured it all out #watch all of this be wrong when chapter 2 n then 3 comes out tho LOL #update. have added the zip bomb stuff. bc of course. it is lowk like a huge bombshell tome

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synthient · 11 days ago

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"This is gonna hurt."

It occurred to me today that I haven't seen this very specific, brief BTS clip floating around on here (from about 12 minutes into the Unleashed), but it's actually been influencing my read of Reality War a fair amount! If nothing else, it's an interesting example of how heavily the editing impacts a line read.

"This is gonna hurt." In the episode as aired, I barely registered this line. I actually had to double check today to make sure it made it into the episode, and I wasn't just remembering it from the BTS. There's no breath between it and the previous line. The Doctor leads into it with a big smile, delivers it airily, and we cut away from his face an instant before the word "hurt." 13 is the one who gets the (relatively understated) reaction shot. The editing, the music, and the specific takes used all serve to soften the impact of that line, to keep it safely under a layer of "two geniuses exchanging upbeat technobabble."

But in the BTS, that line hit like a gut punch. It's a quiet, vulnerable admission. Without the shot-reverse-shot, we have to actually watch both actors sit with that admission for a beat.

And I think that interplay of writing and editing - that contrast between the takes and editing techniques that were ultimately used, and the alternate options that (they've made a point of showing us) were available - demonstrates something interesting. I think this episode is trying to thread a needle between not making this regeneration too distressing (especially for the younger and the particularly emotionally-invested segments of the audience), while still not shying away from the fact that this is a premeditated act of self-harm.

This moment is in conversation with the suicide and self-harm themes of the rest of the season. Shaya, the squad leader in The Well, gets very heavy-handed Doctor-coding in the seconds before she makes a futile self-sacrifice. She misunderstood the "rules" of the force she was dealing with. It didn't work, she didn't save anyone, she didn't actually have to die. Reginald Pye sacrifices himself primarily out of grief. There was no reason anyone actually "had" to stay behind to stop Lux, had to throw themself on the pyre (the...Pye, R. If you will). And Adétòkunbo is narrowly talked out of killing himself. The Doctor pleads: "I want you to live! Don't let this be how your story ends."

I've also argued that RTD2 as a whole is in conversation with The Matrix Resurrections. That's a movie that's very interested in asking: how do the earlier entries in this story relate to suicide? How might our cultural narrative around the idea of "Christ-like" martyrdom offer a safe, an irreproachable, a socially acceptable reason for killing yourself? What are the actual factors that make our protagonist's life feel unlivable? What is the protagonist trying to escape? What might help?

And I think this run is turning a similar eye on its own previous entries, its own martyrdom narratives (with 10's exit as perhaps the most on-the-nose Christ-sacrifice). I think Reality War wants its audience echoing the Doctor's plea to Adétòkunbo: "I want you to live! Don't let this be how your story ends!"

And I don't think this is how it ends.

#doctor who #the reality war #fifteenth doctor #the fifteenth doctor

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grunge-seabunny · 7 days ago

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Homophobia and transphobia are hateful and violent but it’s also fucking embarrassing. Imagine caring about who someone loves or what gender they are. You seriously lose sleep over what Bob down the street does with his husband?

“Oh but I’m Christian; it’s against my religion” The Bible doesn't say shit about gay or trans people. Lots of Christians are queer. Actually lots of queer people are Jewish, Muslim, etc because religion and queerness aren't mutually exclusive.

“I just don't want you to shove it down my throat” I can't fucking escape people taking about Love Island, The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives, or every other Heterosexual™️ reality show.

“It’s just a trend” Queer and trans people have always existed and we always will. Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, James Baldwin are among many queer writers. We are in every aspect of history.

Mathematics: Alan Turing - Helped break the Enigma code.

Science: Sally Ride - first acknowledged gay astronaut

Art: Leonardo da Vinci - Artist of The Last Supper and Mona Lisa. Also was recorded having sexual relationships with men

Music: Leonard Bernstein - Composed West Side Story. Was openly gay despite dating + marrying women.

If you don't support gay and trans people don't listen to our music - don't listen to Queen or Green Day or Elton John. Don't watch our movies - The Matrix, Hairspray, Lilo and Stitch (2002). You hate gays so why watch a movie by a queer director right? As a matter a fact don't watch shows or movies with queer characters. So no more Grey’s Anatomy, Squid Game, or 9-1-1.

It’s 2025. Get it together. Being homophobic is pathetic and embarrassing.

Happy Pride 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

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fernpetals · 17 days ago

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After Life: The Present

Masterlist

Yandere Neo Anderson Headcanons

Part I Part III

Based on this idea

Warning: Stalking, unreliable perception and grasp of reality, NSFW, dub-con, power imbalance, manipulative, creepy and slightly delusional behaviour, major canon diversions and my miserable attempt at making this work. Inspired by a post about dark Neo by @97keanu and some late-night discussions with my mutuals (wink)

Unedited Piece

You are dreaming. It is the same dream, the same man, over and over again. You dream of sitting inside a cafe you have never been to, and waiting. Who are you waiting for?

You don’t know.

It is the same damn cafe, always evening. At times, a faceless man shows up. Flowers in hand, carnations. But you never quite recognise him.

It has been a year since you have been having these ‘dreams’. At this point, you want to visit the cafe. But something in you is afraid. Afraid of what? You do not know.

You just feel…different. As if something is missing. You want to reach out, but it is like a veil has been put over your mind. You are brushing against memories that do not exist, but you feel them.

It’s like you are losing your mind.

Had it been just the dreams, you would have managed. But you randomly wake up in the middle of the night to an empty and dark room, as expected. But the air feels…charged. You feel every single hair on your body stand up, and the static.

You look around like you are expecting to see something or someone. But there is no physical evidence of an intruder. Never. You just feel it in your bones.

—---

“What if they track your pattern? You are endangering yourself and her.” Morpheus’s voice is hushed on the phone.

“They can’t reach me, or trace me, I made sure of that.” Neo’s voice is soft and quiet, lower than usual. He does not want to wake you.

As Thomas Anderson, he longed to be in the position that he is now. In your room, watching over you as you sleep.

Neo does not take off his eyewear, though. It helps him keep the codes in check. He is in control of this matrix now; the agents simply do not know it yet. They never will, until he hunts down every last one of them.

For now, he is content to play a subtle game with you. He wants you to revisit the cafe. He wants you to remember him. But some systems are permanent here. Like a necessary evil.

Every person who consumes the red pill is automatically removed from the memories of the Matrix, and the people trapped here. So, according to the Matrix, Thomas Anderson never existed. No one remembers him, and there are no traces left of him. Digital, physical, nothing.

It works to keep the world from descending into chaos and madness, but also aids in keeping people from sensing that something is wrong with this world.

He retreats into the corner, waving his palm and turning invisible to those bound to the Matrix when he senses you beginning to wake up.

Like every night, he watches you wake, looking around, as if expecting to see someone. He knows you can sense him, and it only turns him more determined. You can sense him, while no other human can. Your connection to him runs deeper. It was always meant to be.

There’s a slight heaviness he feels when you frantically look around, confused, unable to express what you feel, unable to put a pin on it. But you feel him. Somewhere deep inside your subconscious, you know it's him. It knows him

—--

You are standing in front of the cafe again. You have walked into this path many times, without even noticing. But something in you never lets you step inside. The space seems inviting and warm. So why do you hesitate?

Fuck it, I’m going in.

With that, you take a deep breath and walk—

You frown, realising that the lights seem suddenly brighter, as if it's night time already. You look around, only for your lips to part at the view outside.

You walked in moments ago with the sun high up in the sky. But from the cafe, you can see the nightlife. The street lights are lit up, the buildings are all bright, the sky is dark, and there are rumbles along with flashes in the sky.

How is this…

You look around, realising that you are the only person bothered by this strange phenomenon.

Your gaze zeroes in on a corner table with a bouquet placed on it. Without another thought, you walk towards it and pick up the bouquet. Carnations. Fresh, fragrant, beautiful blooms invite you to run your fingers through them. The bouquet from your dreams. Only the mystery man is missing.

You pick it up and find a little card taped to it. ‘To (Y/N)’ it reads when you unfold it. You turn to look to see if anyone is there, waiting for you. But somehow, you feel like you are the one waiting. For what? Whom?

Your eyes stop at the view outside. With the thunder rumbling and the wind picking up speed, the streets seem calmer. But one man is standing right underneath a street light. You take a step forward for a closer look. Despite the good distance, somehow, you just know he’s looking straight at you.

He is dressed in black. The hem of his coat moves and flows in stagnant waves as the wind picks up. He stands still, though. A part of black eyewear, hair brushed back, and broad shoulders straightened with a calm sense of foreboding and self-assurance.

You rush outside the cafe, the bouquet still in your grasp, only to stumble back at the feeling of sunlight as soon as you are outside. You look up and immediately shut your eyes under the unforgiving glare of the summer sun. When you turn to see that streetlight again, you find no one.

You drink yourself to sleep at night. Unable to come to terms with the events at the cafe. Yet the bouquet sits in your guestroom vase. Something in you could not leave it behind. Your eyes keep drifting towards the door before they feel too heavy to keep open. As if you are expecting someone to walk in. Who?

At the cafe, you have felt longing like never before. Deja Vu. That is the only explanation you have for what clouded your heart and mind in that cafe. The rest…the day, the night, that…that man. You have no idea what it was. Were you hallucinating? Was it all in your mind? Who was that man? Who left the bouquet?

Whatever you have experienced was real– the bouquet sitting in your living room is the evidence. But it has unsettled you to the core. You cannot look at the world the same way again. It has been like a jolt to you. Like you had been asleep for a long, long time and are about to wake up.

Tonight, your dreams manifest out of nowhere. You see yourself back in your office. But you are not working. You are in your cubicle, and the place feels eerily quiet, except for the whimpers and moans that escape your lips.

Fingers. Moving in a deliberate pattern inside you. You see the side of his neck, the white collar of his shirt that has a tinge of green. A very faint, but not just his shirt, everything around you seems to have a shadow of green cast over it. The world is the same as the world you live in, but it does not feel real.

Yet, his fingers moving inside you, producing that squelching noise that seems to grow embarrassingly louder with each moment, are what ground you. They feel real, this man feels.

You want to look up at him. You can smell him, feel the heat of his body against yours, you feel him standing between your thighs, your skirt hiked up, and his fingers inside your ruined panties, but you only have a zoomed-in view of his face.

Your cheeks pressed against his. You nose inhaling his scent before you feel his other hand bunch up your hair and pull your head, and meet his eager lips.

Your eyes flutter close, and at the same time, he curls his fingers one last time before you burst into a million sparks of ecstasy. You whine and rub your hips against his moving fingers, feeling conquered in the way his tongue caresses yours and the top of your mouth like he is contemplating something life-altering.

You gasp awake with the sight of the ceiling of your bedroom greeting you. Your hands are on your sides, fisting the ruffled bedsheet but you catch your breath. Your tongue has a lingering taste like no other, your lips are covered with saliva, and your womanhood throbs deliciously. You feel empty, and the warmth and slickness between your thighs do not help.

You look down to find your underwear messily shoved down enough to make space for fingers to be inside. It is ruined anyway. A heady scent hangs in the air as you look at your fingers. Did you just touch yourself in your sleep? Your fingers seem dry and smell nothing of the musk you anticipate when you bring them to your nose.

No, no trace of what you expect, but…but something else. A smell you know you have never smelled before, yet feels somehow familiar. You sigh, feeling a headache catching up. You have no energy to get up. You feel heavy and exhausted after experiencing pleasure like never before.

Taking off your underwear, you toss it away and fall back on the bed. Sleep, surprisingly, comes easily.

—-

It takes everything in Neo not to pick up the discarded underwear that has landed right in front of him. He stares down at it instead, the damp cotton tests his self-control. His throat dies, but he forces himself to tear his gaze away from the piece of cloth towards the bed.

His jaws clench when he is greeted by the most delicious sight imaginable. Nothing covers your lower half. Your soft thighs, legs messily tangled with the sheet and bare mound, are all for his sight— a low burning of his desire now shooting into dangerous flames licking at his sanity.

But he remains still, silently breathing in the scent of the room now heavy with the scent of your arousal while his eyes take in your form.

Parched. He is parched and empty without you. For now, though, he is satisfied with only licking his fingers slick with your essence.

—--

You do not understand what exactly is wrong with you. But maybe everything. You have dreams every other day. They manifest from all the nasty scenarios you had written in your digital diary. You type away your experiences, thoughts and often sensual imagination on your computer almost daily.

You conclude that you must be stressed. The strange encounter at the cafe has left you rattled. So your mind has come up with a way of relief, although temporary.

The only difference is the presence of this…mysterious, faceless man. You can feel him, smell him, even address him, but never see his face. Part of him. But never his full face, nothing to visually recognise him. You simply know it's him.

It is one of your dreams again. This time, it is a tinted glass wall, high up in a skyscraper, where the world below seems like an ant kingdom. You feel the cool glass and the golden sunset. Your breath condenses against the glass with each huff.

It is a dream. You have come to realise every time this happens. It is a dream, but this time it is different. You have never written or imagined such a scenario.

But sounds of pleasure escape your throat nevertheless. You feel fingers slide across your neck, holding you still as your hips rock with his, the sensual rhythm and the delicious fullness of having him inside you elicit a breathy chuckle from you.

It is him. You know the touch, the cologne, the way he feels and the warmth he provides.

That's when you see it--the reflection on the glass, and your smile drops. This man behind you, pressing your naked body against the glass, smells and feels familiar, but is not the same you have dreamt about for so long. But it is the man you saw right outside the cafe that day.

The man with black eyewear, all dressed in black, hair brushed back and an air of authority that seems to command the room he walks into.

You gasp and try to move, but he keeps you pinned, still thrusting in and out of you, drawling out pleasure that keeps holding your rational mind hostage.

Your hands, once on the glass, come to hold or push him, desperate to turn around, yet too deep in pleasure to stop your movements or the spasming against his length.

“Wh–who—” is all you can manage.

“You know me.” His voice somehow sounds deeper, unfamiliar, despite it being the same voice you have heard in your dreams many times before. “You have to ask yourself.”

You feel his lips against your ear before his teeth clamp lightly over them, and you jolt forward. Your walls flutter uncontrollably, and you feel the slickness rolling down your thighs as he continues to thrust inside you. The flood of warmth makes your eyes roll back while a guttural moan escapes your throat. You gasp, claw and mewl, crying out in pleasure.

You are lit up in flames of desire– in this moment, you feel him filling inside you— filling your veins, mind and soul.

You open your eyes once more, damp lashes blink at the man pinning you against the glass, lazily thrusting to drag out the pleasure, before you are snuffed out of your dream world.

You wake up, glistening with sweat, and a sweet ache and emptiness between your legs. You hear the wetness and feel it. Thick and sticky, yet your mind is muddled enough to think it's only your own arousal. You fall into a dreamless sleep as soon as you wake up.

This time, you dream of a hazy figure in black, hovering over your bed, running his fingers through your hair.

—-

“Soon, I would need a red pill,” Neo says to Morpheus on the phone. He is one with the bustling market crowd, but his eyes never stray from your figure.

Your shoulders appear slumped, and your eyes are downcast. You are visibly exhausted, yet you carry on. Soon, you will be free from these meaningless burdens. Then, you can focus your energy on what truly matters, your relationship with him.

“What are you planning, Neo?” Morpheus’ voice turns slightly distorted other end “Shouldn’t you be focusing on the Matrixes that are not yet under our control?”

“She is important to me. Start preparing my apartment.”

—-

You think you are going crazy. But there is no proper sign of madness yet. Only you see that man everywhere. He is never right in front of you. No. You see glimpses of him. Like a shadow, you feel him everywhere you go, and see him from the corner of your eyes. But he disappears when you turn.

It becomes a regular occurrence, and you think you are slowly spiralling into insanity. But all the other aspects of your life remain undisturbed. You only see this mysterious man dressed in black from the corner of your eye

It started with the tail of his coat, the flowing fabric of a dramatic and rushed exit. You ignored it as any rational person would. But then, it turned to seeing the silhouette of a full-grown man from the corner of your eyes.

Every day, you feel him closer. You see a little more of him, like his pale skin, the dark eyewear and dark hair.

He just feels unreal. But he is very much real–you know it in your bones.

Every time you wake up at odd hours, you somehow expect the man looming over your bed. But you find no one. Nothing seems out of place, but your home does not feel the same. The air has shifted.

You cannot explain how, but it feels like you are no longer the only resident here. The door you remember closing turns out to be open, the windows you forgot to close before leaving are closed shut when you return, and there is this…smell.

Leather and fuel, along with hints of earthy fragrance. You have tried bringing your friends for a sleepover to see if they feel the same. But none of them seem to notice.

At this point, you are afraid to confide in any friend. What if they think that you are losing your mind? What if you really are losing it?

Your dreams become more vivid. The touches fell more profound. Not like they weren’t before. But you see more of him. And the more you see him in your dreams, the more you realise that the man in your dreams is eerily similar to the man you see from the corner of your eyes.

It must have been apparent that you're disturbed about something, at least to your friends at work. So they drag you for a fun Friday Night.

It turns out to be actually fun. You get to drink, eat, laugh and let loose a little. You find yourself on the dance floor, but no one is close enough. Yet you feel the static energy buzzing around. You are sober enough to feel the shift, but not enough to be truly alarmed.

You remain where you are, feeling suddenly braver. There is a buzzing need to ground yourself. You tell yourself that it will all go away once you face it head-on, whatever, or whoever he or it is.

But all thoughts evaporate when you feel the warmth of a palm over your swaying hips. The familiar touch jolts you awake from the haze. This time, it is different. This time, you are not in your bedroom; you are not asleep. You are awake, and you are at a nightclub. You are awake and among people, and yet you feel the familiar touch and the presence.

You feel his lips over your ears, his body pressing against yours. You smell him—leather and fuel. “Trying to run away from the truth?” You stiffen, yet your eyes flutter close in surrender.

“Thomas?” You do not know why you say that name, but it flashes in your mind, and your tongue rolls on its own.

Thomas? Who is Thomas?

You want to turn around, but he holds you firmly against him. Unlike the wild pace your heart has taken, you only feel his steady heartbeat. His lips brush against your ear with a deliberate movement. “My name…Is Neo.”

“Neo…” His name tastes like enchantment, and perhaps, you are already enchanted. You must have been too drunk, or simply lost any remaining sense of self-preservation, as you lean against him, testing his name on your tongue again.

So this is the man who haunts your dreams and infests your reality? Is he the final push to your descent into madness?

He takes your hand and leads you away from the crowd, towards the bar, where a man dressed similarly to him serves drinks to the patrons.

It's like you are in a daze— you let him lead you towards it. Maybe it is due to the joint you smoked with friends earlier? The lingering effects perhaps take away any sense of self-preservation.

He takes off his dark eyewear, and you get to look into his deep, calm orbs. He exudes an extraordinary sense of calm and authority, like you can hide nothing from him, like even if you choose to break into a sprint, it would be futile.

“Drink”, he offers you the red drink. Your hands reach out for it, even though your mind screams for you to stop. You pause and look at him. One nod of encouragement is all it takes for you to tune out every warning your mind throws at you.

It’s like you are devoid of any thought or free will. Your movements feel strange, drawn-out, unlike you. But you have no control over your own body. You take a sip. Despite the caution and confusion, the beverage tastes better than anything you have ever had.

“What do you remember about Thomas?”

You frown at the question, gazing at him while you take another sip of the irresistible drink.

“I…I don't know. It just slipped out.” You seriously have no idea. It was out of the blue.

“You aren't supposed to remember, but something in you does. This is a sign.”

“Wh-what sign?” You take a final gulp, finishing the drink while he tugs you towards the exit of the club.

You suddenly feel it, something solid and tiny passing down your throat along with the drink “Wh–what was that?” You finally feel like you are in control again and try to pull your hands away.

But his grip is iron as he drags you towards an isolated exit of the club. When he opens the door, you expect stairs, but are bewildered to find your living room.

“That, and this…” He turns to you, shutting the door, “... it's all a lie, a prison. I am saving you.”

He finally lets go, but you do not answer him, you are in no state to. Instead, you rush towards your apartment door, still in shock. Throwing it open, you find the common corridor you are familiar with.

“No...this can’t be.”

“She is not ready, Sir.” The other man states.

“She will be.” You vaguely hear him through your laboured breathing as you see thin lines of numbers appearing all around you. The colour green has never been more sickening.

“N–no…no. What’s happening?” You gasp out, feeling piercing chills all over, “I’m cold!” It’s like you are losing your voice, it comes in gasps and muffled “I’m cold!”

You try to scream, but you cannot. Your legs can no longer hold your weight, but ‘Neo’ wraps his arms around you.

He is warm, you vaguely realise, feeling the green almost blinding you. But you are still cold.

#yandere neo anderson #neo anderson #the matrix neo #yandere neo anderson x reader #the matrix #neo anderson xreader #after life

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astrosouldivinity · 4 months ago

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𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑭𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔 𝑨𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑨𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚 ⭑ 🌌 🪐

𝙰𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝙵𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝙿𝚝. 1

✩ Astrology is a form of divination. It’s not a religion, nor is it merely a fabrication. Rather, it’s a science that blends the metaphysical with the physical. At its core, astrology is about recognizing patterns that humans have observed throughout history.

✩ In ancient times, astrology and astronomy were intertwined, regarded as two halves of a whole. Both practices were seen as equally significant. It wasn’t until the Middle Ages, with the rise of scientific advancements, that astrology began to be dismissed as a pseudoscience/charlatan trade. However, before that shift, it held a place of deep respect and credibility in society.

✩ If you believe in the matrix theory, astrology serves as the code. It reveals hidden patterns and connections that manifest in our own lives, much like the underlying algorithms of a simulated reality. Each celestial alignment acts as a guiding signal, helping us navigate the complexities of existence. It also offers insights into our personalities, relationships, and life path overall. Just as the matrix can be decoded, astrology serves as a tool for understanding the forces at play in our universe, helping us navigate our path with greater awareness and intention.

✩ Overall, astrology serves as a cosmic weather report. While you can’t change the weather, you can prepare for it. Just as you would carry an umbrella on a rainy day, astrology offers insights that can help you navigate life’s challenges and opportunities, allowing you to make informed choices based on the energies at play.

©𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍.

#astrology #astrology facts #zodiac #astroblr #spirituality #cosmic witch #metaphysical #divination #astronomy #astro posts #fun facts #astrology posts #astrology observations #astrology predictions #natal chart #birth chart #astrological #the matrix #escape the matrix

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123rsc · 7 months ago

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astronomy minor especially - take a guy who in another universe would actively study plants and study space, and cram him into an underground where he’ll never get to see the stars and cram him into the body of a flower with all the associated trauma of The Plot Of Undertale

though i can still imagine him with a computer science major, if only to try and fix the terrible code of the universe he lives in lmao

deltarune asriel should be a botany major because i think it would be really funny

#wait actually - deltarune asriel using his coding prowess to gain back some control over his reality is a bombastic idea #imagine him entering the matrix to fight gaster and save dess (little derivative of a plot synopsis but still cool)

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the-catch-center · 1 month ago

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SPATIOTEMPORAL CATCH CENTER (SCC) DOSSIER: INTERCEPTION REPORT 77-Ω4-Δ13

SUBJECT FILE: Temporal Deviant Class-IX (Unauthorized Identity Ascension & Market Path Manipulation) INTERCEPT ID: TD-922-5x | CODE NAME: “Cicada Orchid” APPREHENSION STATUS: Successful Temporal Arrest, Mid-Jump Interception REASSIGNMENT PHASE: Stage 3 Conversion Complete — FULL IDENTITY LOCK DATE OF INTERCEPTION: March 2nd, 2025 (Gregorian), during Transition Protocol Execution to 2076 FORCED TEMPORAL REINTEGRATION DATE: June 17th, 1956

I. ORIGINAL IDENTITY – [PRIME SELF]

Full Name (Original, Earth-2025 Reality): Landon Creed Marlowe Chronological Age at Apprehension: 29 years Nationality: Neo-Continental (Post-Treaty North America) Biological Condition: Augmented Homo Sapiens – Class 2 Physical Stats at Intercept:

Height: 6’4”

Weight: 243 lbs

Body Fat: 2.1%

Neural Rewiring Index: 87%

Emotional Dampening Threshold: Fully Suppressed

Verbal Influence Score: 97/100 (Simulated Charisma Layer active)

Psychological Profile: Landon Marlowe was a prototype of hypercapitalist self-creation. Having abandoned all conventional morality by age 17, he immersed himself in data markets, psycho-linguistic mimicry, and somatic enhancement routines. A hybrid of postmodern narcissism and cybernetic ambition, he believed history should be rewritten not through war, but through wealth recursion—self-generating economic monopolies that spanned both physical and meta-market layers. By 2025, Marlowe had begun the Vaultframe Project: a forbidden consciousness routing protocol allowing a subject to leap across timelines and self-modify to fit ideal environmental conditions.

He had already initiated Stage 1 of the Phase Ascension:

Target Year: 2076 Final Form Name: Cael Axiom Dominion

II. TARGET FORM – [PROHIBITED FUTURE IDENTITY]

Designated Name: Cael Axiom Dominion Temporal Anchor Year: 2076–2120 (Planned) Occupation/Status: Centralized Financial Apex Authority (Unofficial title: “God of the Grid”) Intended Specifications:

Height: 6’8”

Skin: Synthetic/Epidermech Weave (Reflective, Gleaming Finish)

Mind: Hybridized Neuro-Organic Substrate, 3-layered Consciousness Stack

Vision: Perfect (Microscopic + Ultraviolet Layer)

Muscle: Fully Synthetic Carbon-Tension Architecture

Voice: Dynamically Modeled for Maximum Compliance Induction

Personality: Pure calculated utility — no empathy, full response modulation

Psychological Construction: Modeled on a fusion of 21st-century crypto barons, colonial magnates, and AI-governance ethic loopholes. His projected behavior matrix would’ve allowed him to overwrite traditional economic cycles, insert himself into every transaction on the New Continental Grid, and displace global markets into dependence loops. He would have achieved Immortality via Economic Indispensability by 2085.

[OPERATOR'S NOTE – TECHNICIAN LYDIA VOLSTROM, FILE LEAD]

"He thought he was the evolutionary end of capital. We've seen dozens like him — grim-faced tech prophets dreaming of godhood, all forged in the same factory-line delusion that intelligence and optimization should rewrite morality. His 'Cael Dominion' persona was practically masturbatory — gleaming muscle, perfect diction, deathless control. The problem with arrogance across time is that we always arrive faster. We waited at his jumpgate exit vector like hounds in a vineyard. Now he will die quietly, shelving dusty books in wool slacks while children giggle at his shoes."

III. REWRITTEN FORM – [REASSIGNED TIMELINE IDENTITY]

Permanent Designation (1956 Reality): Harlan Joseph Whittemore Date of Birth (Backwritten): March 19th, 1885 Current Age: 71 years (Biological and Perceived) Location: Greystone Hollow, Indiana – Population 812 Occupation: Head Librarian, Greystone Municipal Library Known As: “Old Mr. Whittemore” / “Library Santa” / “Harlan the Historian”

Biological Recomposition Report:

Height: 6’2” (slightly stooped)

Weight: 224 lbs

Body Type: Large-framed, soft-muscled, slightly arthritic

Beard: Full, white, flowing to chest length — maintained with gentle cedar oil

Hair: Long, silver-white, brushed back, unkempt at the sides

Skin: Tanned, deeply lined, blotched by sun exposure and age

Eyebrows: Dense, low, expressive

Feet: Size 28EE – institutionally branded biometrics for deviant tracking

Shoes: Custom brown orthotic leather shoes with stretch bulging

Hands: Broad, aged, veined, arthritic knuckles

Glasses: Oversized horn-rimmed, 1950s prescription style

Wardrobe:

High-waisted wool trousers (charcoal gray)

Thick brown suspenders

Faded plaid flannel shirt, tucked in neatly

Scuffed leather shoes (notable bulge around toes due to foot size)

IV. MENTAL & SOCIETAL RE-IMPRINT

Primary Personality Traits (Post-Warp):

Kind-hearted, emotionally patient

Gentle-voiced, soft-spoken, slightly slow in speech

Deeply enjoys classical literature, gardening, and children’s laughter

Feels “he’s always been this way”

Occasionally hums jazz under his breath while shelving books

Writes slow, thoughtful letters to estranged family (fabricated)

Routine:

Opens library at 8AM sharp

Catalogues local donations

Reads to children every Wednesday

Tends a small rose garden behind the building

Engages in local history discussions with town elders

Walks home slowly with a leather satchel and a cane

[OPERATOR’S NOTE – FIELD ADJUSTER INGRID PAZE]

"Watching Marlowe become Harlan was like watching a lion remember it's a housecat. I’ve never seen a posture break so beautifully. He twitched at first — his back still tried to square itself like the predator he was. But the warp wore him down. The spine bent. The voice thickened. By the time his hands were fumbling the spines of leather-bound encyclopedias, he was gone. I almost felt bad when the first child ran up and said, ‘Santa?’ He smiled. Like it made sense. Like it was the right name."

V. DEATH RECORD

Date of Death: October 21, 1961 Cause: Heart failure while trimming rose bushes behind Greystone Library

He was buried in a town he never technically existed in, beside a wife who never lived. His obituary described him as “a man of kindness, wisdom, and humility — who asked for nothing and gave more than most ever know.” No one will remember that he once sought to become Cael Axiom Dominion.

[FINAL NOTE – SENIOR INTERCEPTOR V. CALDER]

"Marlowe played the long game, but his crime was arrogance. You can stack capital, sculpt the body, and forge a god’s name — but time always wins. He wanted to be immortal. Now he’ll live only in the margins of children’s drawings, mistaken for Santa, fading like a dog-eared library card. Perfect."

#male transformation #ai generated #ai art #caught and reintegrated successfully

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crobones · 1 month ago

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so as i was saying (and follow me on this, because it's gonna be a process)

I think the rani is trying to create a new gallifrey and recreate timelords a la the timeless child. if memory serves, the people who became timelords were just kinda... people. so like.

i think they were just humans, and the genetic manipulation tecteun was doing made the timelords who they were - I think all those failures culminated in tecteun realizing that the child (who is theta/the doctor) having two hearts is what gives the "human" body the power to withstand regeneration and the lifeforce that goes into being a timelord.

now, it's quite possible that tecteun cloned a bunch of hearts, or it's also quite possible there was a war/mass slaughter and half the population stole the other half's hearts but that's a story for another time idk.

anyway, what i'm saying is it was established since ten-two that a timelord without the second heart and gold flowy bits is just a human.

and the rani knows this.

and so she's like "aight, bet. let me recreate the timelords using the human population." and she's going about it in the most eugenics way possible. no gays allowed because they don't have babies. no disabled people because they'd "weaken the genetic code" or some shit. she needs strong healthy bodies to have them withstand becoming timelords, and she needs the strong to procreate.

so. why not just kill off the "doubters" and the "weak"? well, she'll need the hearts and livers and extra bits from somewhere!

if she's going to use humanity* to recreate the timelords, why kill them and destroy the earth? good question! and this is why I think she's "projecting" life on some random planet that can sustain life but it's core inhabitants don't fucking eat because they don't have fucking stomachs they're SKELETONS. or maybe this random fuckass planet is the closest one she could find connected to the underverse idk.

regardless. need real babies, but can't just fuckin kill off humanity at the same time by tearing through reality, right? well. remember mr. ring-a-ding? mans was made of light, but was physical. there, but not there. and then the fucko absorbed so much light he essentially became incorporeal, but like. he's still there, right?

and do you remember the three doctor who fans? you know, that terribly heart breaking scene where they knew they weren't real, but they had sentience and knew their existence would end at the end of the scene.

oh... but wait. there was an epilogue scene that showed they survived! somehow? Who knows! well, Mrs. Flood/"a" rani likely knows, because she broke the fourth wall constantly and that had to be for a reason, right?

listen. it makes no sense, but also it's the only way I can think of to make it make sense. Mr. Ring-a-Ding was a cartoon character, and then he became a universe within the universe. so, things that, once, only existed on a screen, are real. and it's because he is some unfathomable force that just. exists, now. everywhere.

so projections are real, but they're also just. not. and then, the doctor and Bel were a bit not real for a short while, too, right? and the more they felt, the more three-dimensional they became as characters, the more they returned to just being themselves.

and the rani is powerful, but she's not powerful enough to create billions of characters that have such emotional depth that they become real. you know what's easier? copy and paste. copy humanity. paste it on another planet.

but AI is very flat, and can't be depended on to create three-dimensional characters that can exist in reality. there needs to be a human component, somehow, and she can't very well force all of humanity into their own little matrix pods, right? so how can these characters all exist independent from each other and have lives and make babies and become the vessels she needs for the recreation of the timelords?

you can copy and paste a story to repeat it, but you can't make a sequel. maybe everyone else on the planet is connected to this world and these bodies via their dreams, or maybe it's something entirely different.

anyone know what looms are? don't worry, i (kinda) do. they're essentially just timelord baby engines. "frames with a mesh of "a million fine chords" which sang with the wind and had microscopic data flowing down themselves" is how Simon Bucher-Jones wrote it in the Doctor Whoniverse short story The Short Briefing Sergeant's Tale.

now, raise your hand if you remember The Maestro. okay good, kinda figured.

so light projection creates physical things that are real (but not) and "music" gives those things life - et voila, a loom that spans the universe, focused on one little planet.

well. thing is. The Lux is all around and available to be used as a tool. but the Maestro was kinda banished from reality, which sucks, because the Rani kinda needs things within this reality in order to make this work.

so like. who remembers the Maestro saying something about Ruby just ain't right, shortly before music just kinda comes out of her. well, that sounds like some kinda nexus of music and sound that I might not fully understand but could certainly be utilized to power a loom, no? well then, best to maybe also actually put her on the planet that will "house" the loom.

so methinks Ruby is a battery to power the loom created by the network of titanic power woven around the planet. and if she's really there, and she's already lived through 2025, it's no wonder the limited power of the wish baby can't completely control her. so Ruby has Doubts.

and Conrad is most definitely actually there because the Rani needed a supremacist fuckboy who told millions of people about the Doctor and UNIT and made them - well i would say he made them doubt their existence, but really he made them believe they were all a sham.

and how can you brainwash society into believing things that aren't true? that's easy! propaganda! and the best way to propagate propaganda is via the telly! which is a projection of light on a screen that everyone must view, daily. in a world where things that are even just made out of light are real, that's some really potent propaganda right there, I'll tell you what. not to mention, the madness of the toymaker was literally spread via subliminal messaging on any and every screen in the world. shit is fuckin kooky.

and so, because of fuckboy Conrad and his supremacist beliefs being projected onto all of humanity, society is made to think that homosexuality is bad, that disabled people are bad, and that gingers - well. either that's from Conrad's preconceptions of gingers being weak, or it's from the generations of recessive genes culminating in a group of people that the Rani deems weak.

(also, iirc, because of all the "recessiveness", gingers are more susceptible to things like cancer and the Sun damaging their vision - haha get it? because light can overpow- anyway, I digress)

but why do the outcasts doubt? well, not only does Conrad not see them as people, they don't see him, as said by Brian. Also, chances are, since they're outcasts made homeless by the will of the Rani, they don't watch that television program every damn day, so they aren't being brainwashed with reality warping stories.

I also feel the web of stories created by Abena and Adétòkunbo is somehow involved, or WILL be involved. and there's a reason "Mrs. Flood"/Susan/the Rani could not only break the fourth wall, but also existed everywhere the Doctor went (edit: because I don't believe she has a TARDIS last i checked). And there MUST be a reason Belinda was also that soldier lady from the landmine episode. but give me a day or so to sort that all out.

EITHERHOOT. i'm throwing a lot of spaghetti at the wall, so something might stick idk. or i'm just spouting bullshit. you know. as i do. wouldn't it be funny if I was entirely right tho.

#doctor who #the doctor #the rani #wish world #ruby sunday #belinda chandra #rtd #i need to chill #edit: humanity‚ not hamilton lol. fixed a typo

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