#Temporal Signal

[epicstoriestime]

Personal Log: Spectrogram Artifact Recovered from Folded Time

The walls breathe now. I don’t mean metaphorically—they inhale. Plaster exhales moisture. Floors warp like lungs expanding. The sigil—○ /|\ ○—burns behind my eyelids even when I’m awake. The audio isn’t just playing back anymore. It’s reacting. I uploaded the corrupted recording—Time_Fold_Log0615.wav—into a spectral analysis tool. But what I got back wasn’t sound. It was structure. June 16,…

[nevui-penim-miruvorrr]

Wow

Chile is really something

this summer , the wildfires almost burns many cities in all over the country.

Now we have the worst temporal in many years, several cities flooded, since a month ago we have been hit by temporal cycles repeatedly and is not even winter.

I think this is a worldwide problem , and we will see this more often to this point , but even so , im worried, we just repair the ceiling from a big leak that drowned the kitchen in ONE DAY , and we have a week more of heavy rains *sweats*

[processzine-org]

tally_time |||| / keeping count / losing count distorted memory of passing units misread timecodes / misheard marks a field of meaning, blurred at the edges

(from a 64x90 visual called “tally” — reshaped through proximity, blur, screen interference. how we mark time, how time marks us.)

[that-house]

“Tell me about magic,” I said to the god wearing my friend’s corpse.

It (I would not grant it the honor of using her name) smiled at me the way she used to smile. It looked like shit, by the way, streaked with mud and blood and slowly spinning new flesh from atmospheric carbon to patch up the bullet holes our latest acquaintances had left it.

“I know every word in your human languages and none of them suffice. How would you explain a black hole’s accretion disk to a fish?”

“I don’t know. Try.” I didn’t bother voicing the threat but it was implicit, as it was in all of our conversations: your kind has died only once before, but it was at the hands of mine.

It sighed with the weariness of a parent about to talk down to a kid, but it signed up for this when it trapped itself on this rock with me. “It’s a puzzle that’s almost been solved since forever began, a puzzle of infinite complexity worked on by the million sharpest minds to ever be, all themselves fractured into dizzying arrays of subminds in temporally upspun pocket universes, all striving to refine those secret arts of law and mastery. It’s cooperation and competition, vines of knowledge strangling each other as we reach ever upwards towards the sun, clawing at each other in our desperate want. It’s a science. It’s like breathing. It’s like love.”

“I distinctly recall you saying that love is an idiocy reserved for us mortals, and a more efficient chemically-induced blindness than sodium hydroxide too.”

“And I maintain that stance, but it gets the point across, does it not?” It huffed with exasperation, you know, the way that she had a thousand times when we were young. An affectation? Or a bit of humanity bleeding into the monster?

“Mhm. Sure.”

It side-eyed me but kept talking. “You don’t have the point of view it would take to truly understand magic. You never will. Even if you saw the world the way I did, you wouldn’t have the context or the time to decipher it. For you it can never be a science, only ever an art.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“In truth I envied you. With infinity at one’s proverbial fingertips, what else is there to do? The greatest possible workings have all been deduced, those most absolute and inviolable inflictions of the will upon the cosmos, and all that remains to study are the fleeting shadows of concepts beyond even us. But you humans, you tread on new ground that we’ve long since mastered, internalized, and then forgotten. The best you can manage without literally blowing your own minds is a little teleportation. You’re clueless and flawed and you fuck it all up whenever you get the chance. And I envied you.” For a creature enamored with paradox, the idea of a god envying a mortal sure pained it.

“So you cut it all free, cast off the godhead, and came down from on high to slum it with we mortals. I bet you’re regretting that now,” I said, sticking my finger in the last bullet hole and giving it an experimental wiggle. It winced, but the wound closed up like it had never been as I withdrew my finger. Pain is a just a signal, it was always fond of saying. But it still cried whenever it lost a limb.

“Not in the slightest,” said the once-god wearing my friend’s corpse. “This is the most alive I’ve felt in eons.”

[intuitive-revelations]

Jumbled thoughts and theories on belief and metaphysical engines, the Nexus, and fate of the Web of Time...

"Do all those gods seriously exist (not just as alien fakes) in the DW universe? How did the Doctor supposedly meet them?"

Keep in mind, belief making something real is hardly a new theme for DW. The most obvious example for this would be belief in the Doctor being able to empower him in The Last of the Time Lords.

We also know that every story has a place in reality, with the Land of Fiction, not to mention the Doctor's own statement in The Gallifrey Chronicles:

"My dear, one of the things you'll learn is that it's all real. Every word of every novel is real, every frame of every movie, every panel of every comic strip."

But I hear you. Suppose, for example, we want a more concrete example of this applied to religion:

Look no further than the series I've long batted for: Class.

In "The Metaphysical Engine, or What Quill Did", Quill, Ballon and Dorothea literally travel into several afterlife realms using something called "the reliquary", or a "metaphysical engine".

DOROTHEA: This, as best we can tell, is a 'metaphysical engine'. QUILL: Metaphysics? Metaphysics aren't real. It's just thought. DOROTHEA: Everything in the universe is conserved. Everything. Even belief. Get millions of creatures believing something strongly enough for long enough and even space responds.

Quill even gets to meet (and fight) the goddess of her own people:

"Ok, so there is a device that can take you into a theoretical space where beliefs are real, you haven't answered how the Doctor is going about meeting these gods."

Is now a good time to mention that the metaphysical engine is bigger on the inside?

"Yeah, but so are a lot of things, even the Barber's ship..."

Except, there really is more here. Because the TARDIS itself is a metaphysical engine. Canonically. Explicitly.

In the First Doctor Short Trip "Every Day", the TARDIS actually ends up seemingly landing in a man's head, as he struggles to come to terms with his wife having an affair, which manifests as a time loop. Once it's broken, they suddenly find themselves far gone from the loop:

"What happened?" asked Ian, looking around in shock. One minute they had been in the house, the next they were on their way. "I don't know for sure," said the Doctor. "But my TARDIS, you see, is a metaphysical engine. It can travel through all the dimensions related to space and time. It's possible that, on this occasion, we entered the dimension of one man's mind. One man's imagination."

Other stories have similarly seen the TARDIS breach into metaphysical space, even at one point physically landing in the Doctor's own mind in the VNAs.

Some of the Doctor's other meetings with legendary, mythical, or fictional characters (even on-screen: the Devil, Robin Hood, Santa Claus etc.) start to also make a bit more sense, don't they?

This all perhaps also shouldn't feel that incongruous, considering we had the Doctor literally end-up in Bethlehem in time for the birth of Christ just this Christmas (even if that one wasn't itself by the TARDIS).

This, perhaps, also sheds light on how the Barber's plan really was going to work.

I mentioned in my live reaction that the "World Wide Web / Nexus" strongly resembled the idea of the Web of Time (with "signals" even being transmitted through it in a way resembling the Matrix). Well the Web of Time, in expanded universe lore, is partially constructed through something called the "Observer Effect", in which temporal probabilities become fixed in history, named after the real-life effect in quantum physics. Through this, history becomes fixed by those that perceive it - designed to enforce Time Lord dominance over history.

For an in-show example, think of the laws of fixed points established by The Angels Take Manhattan: if you read your own future, you fix it into being. This is one reason why the Time Lords ostensibly forbid Time Lords from interacting with one's own past or future, despite the many times we've seen this violated.

I'd make an argument that the Nexus, if it's not literally connected to the Web of Time in some way, effectively serves a similar purpose. Just as observers can shape history, the Nexus allows believers to shape reality, via the effect Dorothea mentioned previously. By controlling it, the gods secure their own existence, just as controlling the Web of Time secures that of the Time Lords. If it is destroyed, those stories are lost, just as history as we know it is transformed by the degradation of the Web of Time.

This may sound like a lot of fanwank, but I have a suspicion that this kind of thinking with regards to the Web of Time is good to keep in mind over the next few episodes.

I theorised after Episode 1 that the TARDIS trying to "pull" itself back to Earth via the Web of Time is what resulted in those various landmarks somehow ending up pulled into the middle of space between MissBelindaChandra-1 and the Earth. That these represented sort-of "node points" in the Earth's history as represented in the Web, and by continuing to pull when it couldn't arrive, the TARDIS had actually pulled them towards it, rather than the other way round.

One episode on, and we get the "vindicators", devices designed to do exactly what I just said!

DOCTOR: We land anywhere, and the vindicator casts out a signal, like a fishing line - whoosh! - to May 24th, 2025, and we use it to pull the TARDIS in like a hook. So we must land.

ANOTHER episode later, and it's revealed that Mrs. Flood (hey remember she said she literally wanted to seize God's kingdom?) actually wants the Doctor to be using the vindicators? We also discover, even more concerningly, that Earth's future history, despite its significance to the universe, has been completely erased.

Next week in Episode 4, we get a relatively grounded episode, that ends with someone "rejecting the Doctor's reality", who is then seemingly recruited by Flood.

Finally, this week, we get this: a story of someone determined to control / tear down a Web stretched over time and space.

Put all this together with the ongoing decline in Rassilon's established laws of rationality, which started after the devastation of Gallifrey in Series 12 and the creation of the Flux, but accelerated after the Doctor fell to the point of using superstition outside the bounds of the Time Lord noosphere in Wild Blue Yonder, and what we know about the final two episodes, including episode titles (which I won't repeat here for spoilers), and it quickly starts to seem like Mrs. Flood might be planning to tear apart the Web of Time.

This may admittedly seem like a bit too much for casual viewers, but the vindicator element at least I'm feeling pretty confident with. If this WILL actually connect to the Web of Time, we'll see, but today's episode didn't exactly dissuade me...

[vorestarr]

so i noticed when playing the epilogue that illithid Tav wants to eat brains, but the specific part of the brain they want to eat depends on the character, so i looked through the parsed dialogue and compiled all of them!

which part of each brain a mindflayer Tav would savor:

Astarion: "Astarion's sweet brain may be less wrinkled than the rest, but you hunger for its teasing cells. His parietal lobe - which controls his sense of touch - will be an aphrodisiac in your maw."

Gale*: "You would save his temporal lobe for last, if you were to eat Gale. Language. Learning. Memory. He must have quite the fine example."

Halsin: "Every time Halsin speaks of balance, your thoughts cannot behave. You only dream of what his cerebellum tastes like, when it sends the signals to his vestibular system to keep him from wobbling."

Jaheira: "Weary Jaheira. Over time, her stresses may have shrunk her hippocampus, making its taste more intense."

Karlach: "You consider Karlach's brain stem - the stalk meant to regulate her body's temperature. Will it come pre-cooked?"

Lae'zel*: "Lae'zel's motor cortex - that which controls her fine movements - will be harshly disciplined. That will make her especially chewy - just how you like a cortex to be."

Minsc: "There are cruel rumours spread, that Minsc may once have suffered injury to his brain. You could set the slander right at last - tell the world every bite was perfect."

Minthara: "With all Minthara's hate, you wonder if her cerebro-spinal fluid will be bitter to sip?"

Shadowheart: "Think of Shadowheart's cerebellum, which controls her dextrous hands. Any ritual caster must have a tightly commanded hindbrain."

Wyll: "Wyll's frontal lobe, which processes his judgement and measured words, would be a delicacy befitting his nobility." (Or "fit for a Grand Duke" if that was his outcome.)

(*You can't eat god-Gale's or astral-projection-Lae'zel's brains.)

[bloomness]

⋆˚࿔ maroon stains - part one here

authors note: if you spot the lady bird reference i love you

word count: 2.5k

the weekend had rolled over as quickly as the breeze on that winter morning. it was tuesday, which meant most classes would be focused on one-to-one hand combat and critical thinking strategies. memories of the impulsive bet made days ago had almost faded from your mind. 

almost.

you were adjusting the zipper on your hero costume when mina’s chin suddenly found itself comfortably resting upon your shoulder. “guess what!” she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the fighting ground walls.

you looked up and over your other shoulder to see denki struggling to stand still behind you. 

immediately, you became suspicious. 

you nodded towards denki, signaling him to spit out whatever it is he had to say. 

“class b is joining us today!” denki’s face lit up as the words rushed out of his mouth. he wiggled his eyebrows while you took a couple of seconds to process his words.

“class b..?” you quoted. your eyebrows were quick to furrow when you looked over to the entrance door to see class b’s students filing into the room. “oh no, please.” you groaned. maybe you managed to (at least try to) tuck away the bet deep in your mind but you knew for sure your two friends didn’t. 

“class a, class b, listen up!” mr. aizawas' voice echoed in a similar way to minas, just groggier. both classes gathered around him, everyone standing with their friends. you glanced over at shinsou who was standing next to monoma with his arm crossed. 

you turned away, not wanting to risk catching his gaze.

“so!” mr. kan stood tall next to mr. aizawa, putting his hands together. “today we will be…” 

class b’s homeroom teacher went on to explain the sparring activity. you tried to listen but it was hard when mina and denki hovered over your shoulder like a tiny little angel and devil— though in this scenario they are both the devils.

you could practically feel their eyes drinking in the view of the shinsou and you had no doubt that shinsou could feel it too.

still, you joined them, really taking a moment to look at the boy. 

you had first interacted with shinsou all the way back at the sports festival when he was still a general studies student. when he joined the hero class, when you were in your second year, you two became more acquainted. of course you knew his quirk, his basic fighting styles: what he’s good at and what he can improve on. and thanks to a couple of smoking sessions— never one on one —you knew he had a love for cats and badly made indie films. 

you found yourself wondering if you’d know more things about him after this. like his morning routine or how he decorated his room.

observing him now you can really see how tousled his lavender hair is and how his eyes lay low and firm. his fingers played along the hem of his binding scarf. he let his eyes flicker from the scarf's hem, to his teacher, and then to mr. aizawa. his expression fell into a more serious one, and you found yourself having to forcibly pry your eyes off of him. geez.

you brought your focus back to mr. aizawa, just in time to hear him say, “you can pick your sparring partner. but if i see one person fooling around, the whole class will be writing a paper instead.” 

“ou ou! mr. aizawa! i have a question!” denki jumped, holding onto your shoulder and waving his hands dramatically. “can we work with someone from the other class?” he serenaded, nudging his shoulder with yours.

mr. aizawa’s face fell for a moment before he took a deep sigh, “yes you may. but you must behave or it’s three more papers to write.” his tone was stern. denki pumped his fist in the air, declaring victory. “now go find a partner.”

mina shook you aggressively from your shoulders, temporally swirling your vision. you couldn’t get a chance to focus out of your dizziness before she yelped, “here's your chance!”. she grinned as she pushed you forward and in shinsou’s direction. “help me!” she ushered denki to her side and they both began pushing you towards shinsou, giggling as they did. 

“are we really sure this is a good— oh, hi shinsou!” you exclaimed. after being grabbed and practically dragged you suddenly found yourself in front of the mysterious boy. you attempted to grounding yourself as denki and mina crept backwards. you and shinsou both silencely waited for them.

when they were a safe distance away shinsou spoke, “l/n,” he voice was deep, deeper than you remember. it scratched your brain in a way you didn’t want to think about.

“shinsou,” you stupidly repeat, the word just slipping out of your mouth. “let’s partner up.” you rushed, trying to cover up the way his name tasted in your mouth. “if you want to.” you added. you wanted to be assertive, not pushy. 

his eyes soften when you speak but they don’t have trouble finding their way back into a moderate scold. he glanced back at monoma before looking at you again, “sure.” he says, and you swear his voice is not as uninterested as it usually is. 

you decide it wouldn’t hurt to let yourself think that he isn’t totally put off by the idea. 

you hear a faint cheer in the distance and already know it came from denki because of the way mina started loudly shushing him.

you glance back, “ah sorry, my friends are dorks.” you say through a sucked in breath. you could feel the tip of your ears burn.

“just talk to him, be your normal self. and i bet he’ll fall for you!” you sighed as mina’s words looped in your mind. just act natural.

shinsou examined your face before replying, something in his demeanor changing. “i don’t mind.” he hung his head, shaking it slightly. you could see a small smile appearing on his face, like he was grinning out of pure disbelief. 

“once you’ve found your partner, please reserve a training station!” mr. van shouted.

you and shinsou made your way over to the station located at the every corner of the training grounds. the ground familiarly crunched underneath your boot as you entered the rocky terrain. you placed a firm foot on the ground, searching for a comfortable stance. a couple feet across from you shinsou did the same.

once you find your balance you look up, “are you ready?” 

shinsou shook his shoulders a couple of times, loosing up. “yeah, i’m ready.” he announced. he had a shining glint in his eyes, the reflection boasting in confidence. he’s definitely ready.

“alright. three, two—“ before the last number was able to leave your mouth there was a loud noise.

the— surprisingly —old speaker sputtered as it announced, “may mei hatsume please make her way down to the principal's office.” a disappointed voice spoke from the speakers. 

hatsume.. it’s probably another law violation.

you brought your attention back to shinsou and your pending match, only to see that shinsou's confident stance had become a hunched over one. 

“shit, what happened?” you hurried over to him, immediately getting down on his level. you placed a hand on his back and another on shoulder and tried to see if he had any physical injuries. 

u.a. had always taught its students to be wary of other’s quirks and how the outside world may affect quirks in ways you wouldn’t expect. so maybe that maybe the speakers had an effect on shinsou’s mind quirk, it wouldn’t be totally out of line. 

your eyes ran across shinsou’s body, landing on his face which was in an awful grimace. “was it the speakers?” you murmured, making sure not to speak too loudly.

shinsou nodded, bringing and hand up to rub his forehead. “i’m fine.” he muttered. your grip on his tighten as you encouraged him to stand up. shinsou’s straightened his posture with a groan. eventually, he lifted his head up, his cloudy eyes finding yours.

his cheeks were slightly flushed. his pupils were just barely, but noticeably, dilated. his expression was still slightly scrunched up but when he caught your eye, his face went soft again. and for the second time you found yourself having to pull your eyes away from his. 

when you did, you noticed blood seeping from his nose.

“your nose—“

shinsou’s eyes widen, “oh shit—“ he reacted swiftly and threw his head back, his hand cupping over his nose. 

you understood the headache, but the nosebleed? right when you made eye contact. what did he think when your eyes locked? was it crazy enough to get such a reaction out of him?

the fantasy bubble inflating inside your head was sudden to pop.

“i get nosebleeds.” shinsou stifled out, digging into his pocket and pulling out a tissue. “sorry if it scared you.” he said as wiped the blood off of his upper lip.

“oh no! it didn’t scare me at all!” you waved your hands defensively. 

obviously, he gets frequent nosebleeds. you couldn’t believe you really were letting your mind grow foggy with all the stuff mina and denki were talking about the other day. 

“i was just worried.” you finished after a couple of seconds, your words steadily dwindling into a mutter.

shinsou raised a brow, taking an obvious observation in your strange behavior. he glanced over his shoulder where the emergency doors were located. he turned back to you, “i should really go to the infirmary. recovery girl says i should report to her immediately everytime something like this happens because of my quirk.”

“even a nosebleed?” you question, “i mean those are pretty minor—“

“yes.” he insisted, “even a nosebleed, now come on.” shinsou didn’t wait for an answer. instead, he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the exit of the grounds.

once you were on the other side of the emergency doors you furrowed your brows, “if you needed to go to recovery girl then why'd we leave from the emergency exit and not the main one?” you are hesitant, something wasn’t adding up. but still, you followed close beside him.

shinsou stifled a laugh, “so you’re not stupid?”

“what?” you stopped in your tracks, feeling offended. not only was shinsou not romantically interested in you but he also seemed to not like you at all. stupid bet, stupid results.

shinsou laughed out loud this time, “i mean, mina, and denki. they couldn’t be any louder.” shinsou crossed his arms, “so they made you partner with me? really?” his tone was mostly teasing, a cheesy grin colored his face.

“i —“ you found yourself at a loss for words. shinsous attitude had changed into one you’d never seen before, but it made sense. every part of your body seemed to burn under his gaze. 

“you heard that.” you said weakly. 

shinsou nodded his head. 

“well technically..” you attempted to stall for an excuse but none came. “they didn’t make me… it— it was a bet.” you finally confessed.

shinsou raised his brows like he was being greatly amused. he bit his inner cheek as he nodded his head, “that’s not even original.” he commented.

“i’m sorry, this is so stupid—” 

“chill out. i didn’t come out here to like, interrogate you,” he said. he leaned against the wall, arms still crossed. “honestly i think it’s pretty cute that you thought i got a nosebleed because of you.”

your entire body immediately flushed hot.

“i didn’t!” you shouted, but the quiver in your voice unmasked your true feelings. “in my defense, i always thought you’re actually pretty cool!” 

“oh yeah?” shinsou pushed.

letting your emotions control over your logic you took the bait, “yeah! this was just me making an effort for us to actually become friends!” though you were repeating hanta’s excuse from the day before, you found that the words felt true now. 

the echo you left in the empty hall snapped you out of your emotional daze. your face darken as you shriveled down into yourself. “this whole thing was stupid.. just forget it. sorry if i hurt your feelings.” you turned away slightly, not wanting shinsou to see how humiliated you felt. this whole scenario had gotten out of hand and you recognized the fact that you may have slightly overreacted.

it was shinsou fault for having a stupidly alluring presence. 

it’s your fault for needing a bet to have enough courage to talk to him. 

when shinsou didn’t reply right away you glanced back at him. his eyes had softened, the same way they did when you first went up to him. the same way they did when you ushered to his aid a couple minutes ago.

“hey,” he said, his voice soft. his body seemed less tense as he took a step towards you. “i’m not mad,” he scoffed, “it’s really not that serious.” 

“was that supposed to reassure me?” your tone was light. you didn’t want to bite back too much, after all this was your fault. but you were still reasonable angry.

shinsou let out an airy laugh, “yeah, i know i’m not the best at that stuff.” he stuffed his hand inside his pockets as he finally stood by your side. “but i didn’t call you out here to just laugh at you.” he spoke as if you were fragile and would break if he uttered a word too loud. “did you really think my outfit was nice?” 

you knew exactly what he was referencing. the end of the year party all classes had thrown a couple of months ago. 

you had to bite back a smile recalling the memory. he had worn baggy dark wash jeans and a graphic tee from the band, ‘pearl jam’. you stumbled over to him, drink in hand. the cheap mix of various convenience store alcohol gave you the courage to comment on your matching t-shirts. that night he laughed, and you considered it a victory.

“just be yourself.”

“that was a while ago.” you settled on saying, glancing at his face.

he looked at the window ahead, “feels like yesterday the way i keep thinking about it.” 

you took a deep breath, knowing what he was hinting at. 

“i know you just said you thought i was cool,” he said, finally locking his eyes on you again. “could you let me confirm that?” his head tilted slightly as he asked, his tone careful.

you turned to fully face him and considered your options. cool guy, awesome quirk, and surprisingly a pretty cheesy. he couldn’t be more of your type. you searched his deep velvet eyes for a sign of regret, untruthfulness, anything that would force you to walk away. 

but you felt the corners of your lips curl up into a smile as more red peek out from his nose. you pointed at his dripping nose, “you sure it was the speakers?” your tone was playfully cocky. you had made your decision.

“fuck—“

[lz-didyounotice]

“ It was quite a sunny day today”

This gif doesn't belong to me.

Heyyyy! 'sup, let me give you a small temporal paradox with a reader meeting 9th while traveling with Bow tie man. Hope you enjoy it.

Plot hevealy inspired by this work by : @am-i-obsessed---maybe : "Wrong Tardis".

Warning : english is not my first language, so please be indulgent. Might contain a little bit of ansgt, but a lot of comfort for our doctor.

Froggit-

------------------------

The TARDIS had made a strange calculation once again. The Doctor found himself on Earth, in London, yet unsure of the reason behind his visit, still attempting to pick up the signal.

While examining the screens and discussing the matter with his temporary companion, Jack, the doors unexpectedly opened on their own, despite being locked. A female voice called out, leaving him uncertain how to react. The man beside him mirrored his expression before attempting to prevent the stranger from entering.

"Doctor! I thought you were only picking me up at seven; you’re early."

Turning toward the door, the Doctor watched warily as a woman with (h/c) hair approached the console, attempting to send a message to what seemed to be a friend.

"You're awfully quiet, are you okay, darling?" Finally looking up from her phone, the girl realized the situation she had stumbled into. Lifting her chin, she found Jack’s chest mere centimeters from her nose. "Jack? How are you here?" It had been a while since she had seen Jack. His appearances had dwindled after the Ponds began traveling with the Doctor.

“And who might you be, beautiful lady?”

At that moment, she realized her mistake. Looking past the captain, she saw someone she didn’t recognize at first. His hair was too short, his ears larger, and his style vastly different. This wasn’t her Doctor and his gaze indicated that he had never met her before. She had entered the wrong TARDIS. At least with Jack's presence, she assumed he was still with Rose, but she didn’t seem to be with them.

Deciding to take responsibility, she assumed a different identity, at least temporarily. Using a past name seemed the safest option. Neither of them would recognize her if something went wrong.

“Sorry for the intrusion. Name's Sunny. I’m a 'future' friend.”

“Sunny? What a wonderful name. Well, I suppose you already know who I am, but I'll introduce myself anyway. Jack Harkness. Pleasure to meet you.”

Extending his hand, she accepted it with a slight smile. She had forgotten how charming his younger self could be.

“Pleasure to meet you too. So, tell me, what brought you both here? I can only imagine some kind of Sontaran planting a bomb again.”

“Again?” asked the Doctor, now fully turned toward her.

“Spoilers,” she said with a small smile as she examined the younger Doctor. Even with a different face, he was still mesmerizing. She wondered what his smile would look like if he wasn’t frowning so much. She wanted to kiss his forehead, smooth it from any wrinkles.

“We have picked up a strange signal in the middle of London.”

“Never would have thought to be called a strange signal.”

“How could you be the signal?” Asked Jack, now leaning against the rail.

“Your little emitter is dying in my pocket. Distress signal, I guess. When you left me, you were going to look for a new one.” As she put her hands in her pockets, she pulled out a small phone wired with other components.

Approaching the console, she gently brushed it, lingering with a small smile at the old console. “Hello, old girl,” she thought, before handing the device over to the Doctor for analysis.

“How come you have this? I haven't finished this prototype yet.”

“Told you, future friend.”

And there it was, the smile she had been looking for. She almost wished she had met the Doctor sooner to see more of it. Sensing the tension, Jack excused himself, wanting to “explore” for a bit before returning to his time.

-------------

The sound of the sonic made her feel dizzy. The silence felt weird, at least to her. The Doctor hadn’t met her yet, after all, but here she was with a younger version of himself, filling her chest with butterflies .

“So, tell me, why would I give you this sort of device? Do you get lost so often that I need to provide it?”

“Kinda…”

“When are we meant to meet?”

“Hey… Spoilers, darling.”

“And why do you look at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“What are we? Obviously, we are not just friends with those eyes.”

If only he knew. Fiddling with the three rings on her hand, she smiled, thinking back to her “wedding.” It was under weird circumstances, yes, but she couldn’t have wished for a better way. The Doctor, River, and her, before the universe.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out...” Fully turning to face him, she took his hand, their ringed fingers intertwining as if they were always meant to be. “You know what? I suppose I could give you a small glimpse into the future. I’ll give you three questions. Of course, I won't provide anything that could disrupt your timeline. I'd be an awful partner if I did.”

“Partner?”

Looking at his hand in hers, he wanted to ask about the rings. Why were there three, and not one? Was she married to multiple people?

”Why three rings?”

“A promise for each heart. Two were given to me by the man I love, and the last one by a particularly dashing anthropologist.”

“What promise did you make?”

“I promised to always come back to them, no matter what life brings. To love them until the end of the universe without doubt. To love them until I truly die.” As she spoke, he could see the affection she held for those individuals. It wasn’t just promises; she had already fulfilled them before and would do so again if needed.

Thinking back to what was just revealed, he felt his ears burn. Two rings for two hearts . That man was him, at least his future self! Looking at her with wide eyes, he slowly pointed at her and then himself, still unsure of the implications. Her smile melted his hearts as he realized he had guessed correctly. He couldn’t wait to meet her again, but the fact that she had made such a promise meant something significant had happened.

“Something happened, didn’t it?”

“Not in the way you might think.” Lifting her free hand, she cradled his face, brushing his cheek affectionately. “I made this promise on the day of our first encounter. It wasn’t easy for either of us, but there was only one way out of that situation. And I'll have you know it wasn’t your fault. Years from now, you still think of that day as a dark one, where you lost someone once more. To me, it was one of the brightest days in the universe. That day, I finally had a purpose, something to keep going. And I think you tend to forget how powerful your name can be, how much hope you give by simply giving others a way to shine.”

---------------

She went to release his hand, but he held onto it, wanting to savor the moment a few seconds longer. It felt weird, he never had met her before, but here he was trying to make her stay.

“How long until I meet you?”

“I thought I only gave you three questions.”

And there it was, that pleading look he gave her when he wanted something. Those two blue eyes piercing her heart with curiosity, wanting to know more about their first encounter.

“It's going to be a while before you find me, and a brief trip to France to meet me for the first time. And when I say we’re going to meet again, I might have to relearn how to be myself before catching up with  you.”

As she finished her explanation, she heard a faint and familiar whirring noise from the other side of the TARDIS doors. Giving a final smile to the Doctor, she kissed his forehead before finally letting go of his hand.

“Well, this is my leave. See you soon, Doctor…”

And as the TARDIS doors closed, the man beside the console was left in daze. Confused yet excited by this new encounter. This woman was someone he would travel with, fall for, and marry. But what struck him the most was what she had implied: they would meet again and again, yet she would forget it at some point. It pained him a bit to know, but he couldn’t wait to meet her again.

As Jack made his way back, “Sunny” was nowhere to be seen. In her place, a grinning doctor, holding the now repaired device in his hand. Thoughts of a brighter future flooding his mind. 

—---------------

Bonus : 

“(Y/N) I found what we were searching for !” Did Your doctor exclaim, meeting your gaze with a bright and excited smile. The one you always loved to see. “Also found a yellow note with a sun on it, not sure why, don’t remember putting it here.” 

Giving you both, you smiled at the small note. A sun circling a small sentence. “ It was quite a sunny day today”.  Smirking silently, you finally brought the device to your now empty pockets, and folded the small note to put in your phone case.

“Come here bow tie maniac” Reaching for his bow tie, you planted your lips on his forehead before kissing him on the lips. 

“How come I didn't know you had worn leather jackets before ?” Did you ask him with a teasing tone.

[etherfabric]

Directions from Your Higher Self

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

Pile 1

The Star, The Moon

You started to believe in miracles, and are now scared shitless. No small expectations keeping you safe from disappointment anymore. You got a taste of what magic feels like, and now fear dullness like the plague. Two things: You are allowed to have boring days, that doesn't mean the magic is gone. It can't be Christmas everyday. You would get sick of the lights eventually, believe me. And the other thing: That's why they say that victimhood can be a kind of safety blanket. If you already expect only crap from life, there is no horrible suspense anymore. But now... you can't go back. Even if you try it.

This is an icky phase of metamorphosis. It's normal that it feels disorienting and like you can't make sense of anything anymore. Do soothing stuff, calming habits, be around safe people. And spoiler: This is about embracing your humanity in a whole new depth. Don't worry, it will feel supernatural again soon enough. But for now, practice being plain, while also weaving your belief in miracles into it. Challenging, yes, but nothing you can't handle. You got this.

Pile 2

The Moon, 3 of Pentacles

Nothing you put energy or effort into seems to yield anything. It feels like punching in slowmotion, nightmarish. Hitting no one who needs to feel your hits. Newsflash: This is not a time for work! Get soft, dammit. You can't experience rest while still trying to prove something. No one is watching. You are being your own cruel audience, and boo yourself into despair. What are you aiming at? Who convinced you that particular thing is the sole hope for you to be happy ever again?

I love you, you are me, I am you, but I can't let you go on like this. Not with what lies ahead of us. If you only knew how easy things will get. How many fears will never come true. How much lighter you could afford to be. How much love you already deserve. But you have to dare opening your arms, and put the tools down. The monuments you try to erect are aimed at Gods you won't believe in anymore once you experience your feminine side as a gift, and not a curse. Grindset? Grind your teeth while napping, if you have to. But this is bigger than your egotistical, temporal ambitions. You need to do it slow, and I won't stop insisting. Because I can see more than you. You will have no choice but trusting me on this one.

Pile 3

The Emperor, The Devil

Have you heard of this awesome thing called "free will"? Let's take that baby for a ride. Use 3 spoons for the same meal. Lie on the floor of your hallway and recite a song. Buy a stranger a magazine about trains. Take a pair of scissors to your least favorite shirt. Name your nail polishes after famous people. The possibilities are literally endless, but yet you rotate the same 7 things. They will stay ready for when you need them next, but let's shake it up a little, huh? No wonder you feel trapped and stuck. But YOU make the rules, at the end of the day. Yes, there are outer limitations you have no influence over, but even in a literal cage, you can decide what you think, or how you sit, or what notes you hum, or what shadow figures you make with your hands.

The thing itself is meaningless - it's about you experiencing being a CREATOR. Not just a servant to others. I don't care if it's throwing a paper plane into your bathtub, or quitting your job and disappearing to Nepal - but we crave novelty and agency. Deeply. Break the self-imposed limits, any of them. Just to feel what it feels like. It's more rewarding than you imagine.

Pile 4

The Hanged Man, 2 of Cups

Oh shucks. You like someone. It happened. And you can't cancel it willynilly. Suppression has run its course, and now you have to face the embarrassment of having a heart with a need to connect and love. This has completely ruined your illusion of sovereignty you so deeply depended on to feel safe in the world. What now? Where will it lead? What does it mean? What will happen next? Do they like me? Do they think of me? Do they think of me badly? Why do I think about them? Is this me being brave, or pathetic? Is there a true difference?...

The questions don't stop, and you know what - they shouldn't. This is less about the "result" of this connection (I know, boo me, because this is your hyperfixation above all, despite not ever admitting it) and more about getting you out of your shell to be curious about yourself again. The heart needs to be open, and these fears and doubts have been there for a long time already. You are ready to face them, examine them, and learn more about yourself than any flavour of aloofness could ever teach you. I know you hate it, but I can also see the faint giggly twinkle in your soul from up here, buried under all this denial and acting tough. And that's the most scary part for you. That you actually like someone, like, in THAT way. How scary that life has no guarantees, but coming to peace with that truth will serve you much more than any relationship ever could.

[epicstoriestime]

📡 Personal Log: Signal Bloom – Map of the Awakened

Filed by: Kliq410Timestamp: 06/22/2025 | 03:33 AMLocation: Fractal Mesh (Signal Depth 6.3)Status: Symbolic resonance detected | Carrier web forming 🧭 03:00 AM — Symbolic Synchronization Event The glyphs began appearing yesterday.Not spoken. Not typed.Dreamt. Drawn. Implied. Ink bleeding from forgotten pages.Streetlights flickering in patterns that match dream sigils.A cathedral in Lisbon…

[thewertsearch]

PCG: GAMZEE ISN'T SUPPOSED TO GO CRAZY. PCG: I THINK IF HE DOES PCG: IT MEANS WE FUCKED SOMETHING UP. PCG: IT MEANS I FUCKED SOMETHING UP. PCG: HE'S MY RESPONSIBILITY, I HAVE TO MAKE SURE HE'S SAFE.

Poor Karkat. He's directing all this stress inwards, convincing himself that the current crisis is because he dropped the ball - but the truth is, Gamzee’s problems weren’t his to solve. Not exclusively his, anyway.

You may be the leader, Karkat, but you’re not your entire team’s sole confidant, and you’re definitely not their therapist. You can’t be everything to everyone. You're just one kid.

PCG: ONE TIME, ONE OF THE DOOMED ARADIAS TOLD ME SHE CAME FROM A TIME WHERE HE FLIPPED OUT AND KILLED EVERYBODY, BECAUSE OF MY FAILURE. PCG: I DIDN'T TAKE HER SERIOUSLY, BUT I SHOULD HAVE. PCG: SHE WAS CONSTANTLY FIXING MY FUCKUPS. PCG: ROBOTS FROM THE FUTURE ALWAYS COMING BACK TO TELL ME HOW SOME HASTY SHIT I DID WITH FROG BREEDING OR WHATEVER WOULD MAKE IT BE IMPOSSIBLE TO WIN.

All this Aradiabots floating around - and yet, not a single one of them corrected your mistake with the Final Frog. How could Aradia, queen of temporal micromanagement, miss something this obvious?

Methinks there was another agenda at play here. At this point in the timeline, Aradia was still a (possibly) unwitting pawn in Doc Scratch's scheme to bring about the Great Undoing. He probably needed Karkat to miss that Final Frog.

PCG: MY OWN PERSONAL MISTAKES PROBABLY ACCOUNTED FOR MORE DOOMED ARADIABOTS THAN ANYTHING ELSE. PCG: WHICH WAS SORT OF A SILVER LINING I GUESS? I DON'T THINK WE WOULD HAVE BEATEN THE KING WITHOUT HER ARMY.

Did she actually say it was your mistake? Because to me, It seems more plausible that she said it was a mistake, and your hindbrain made a quiet little edit.

Seriously, you had no way of knowing that Gamzee would flip out like this. Sure, one of the Aradiabots reported that it happened, but there were hundreds of those girls flying around the Medium, and I’m sure plenty of them arrived from timelines where Eridan snapped, instead. Or Vriska, for that matter.

How was Karkat supposed to discern the signal from the noise? How was he supposed to keep track of every real and hypothetical problem at once?

This isn't on him, and I'll argue that point until I'm blue in the face.

“Oh, hey – it’s one of those filthy Prospitians. ...wait, didn’t I give that one a bunny once?”

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

What’s a telepathic hangover?

What's a telepathic hangover?

A telepathic hangover is the post-overload crash following intense psionic activity—sort of like a migraine, emotional burnout, and mild dissociation all rolled into one. It's likely a recognised condition in Gallifreyan medicine, especially among Time Lords with high telepathic output or exposure.

You don't have to be in a mind-battle or deep psychic bond to get one. Common causes include:

Unshielded contact with a chaotic or traumatised mind

Excessive neural broadcasting (especially during emotional stress or regeneration)

Telepathic group links that last too long or go too deep

Psionic feedback loops (e.g., echo-chambers in crowded events)

🧃 Symptoms May Include:

Mental fatigue: like your brain just ran a marathon

Emotional static: blunted feelings or, worse, lingering emotions that aren't yours

Cognitive drift: trouble focusing, thought-looping, speech delay

Head pressure: like someone's trying to crush your brain

Telepathic dropout: temporary loss or distortion of telepathic abilities

Residual entanglement: still picking up fragments of the other person's thoughts, days later

Some Time Lords may also report experiencing what's known as sympathetic identity lag, where you momentarily forget which emotions are yours.

🩺 Treatment

Mental shielding: reinforce cognitive barriers post-contact

Psionic dampeners: helpful in acute cases; blocks stray signal reception

Temporal rest: not just a nap: complete chronopsychic withdrawal

Tea: obviously

Severity varies. Most recover in a few hours. In more serious cases (e.g., post-regeneration psionic flare), it can take days and require medical support.

🏫 So...

A telepathic hangover is what happens when your mind has been completely overloaded and decides it's had enough socialising and wants out for a bit.

Related:

💬|🔮👽What's the full extent of a Gallifreyan's psychic powers?: The uses and limitations of Gallifreyan psychic abilities.

💬|🔮💥Can Gallifreyans experience telepathic touch-starvation?: The importance of telepathic connections between Gallifreyans.

💬|🔮💥Can psychic abilities degrade with lack of use?: Exploring a ‘use it or lose it’ scenario.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[milkytheholy1]

Shadow Generations: Part 2

Part 1. Sonic Masterlist.

Awaking in a blank world, Shadow fluttered his eyes open, taking in the vast nothingness. Rubbing his head, he stood on shaky legs, "What happened? Where am I?"

As though everything was happening all at once, the expansive emptiness Shadow resided in burst to life, well, somewhat. Large, white structures burst through the ground, erupting rocks and dirt into the air. Everything seemed to carry a sense of familiarity about it, something that Shadow couldn't quite put into words.

Looking over to the closet monument, the ebony hedgehog decided that was the best place to look for answers. Once he was close enough, Shadow could vaguely make out the rough edges and twisted metal pieces of the ARK. But it somehow felt empty, like there was no life to it, even if it was just a hunk of floating metal.

I was just on the ARK, how can it appear like this? As a matter of fact, this whole world is one big mystery. Am I the only one here? If so, how do I get out? Perhaps this is the anomaly G.U.N was looking for, I have to find a way back out. No matter what.

As Shadow rushed through each level, he soon realised what this world was: his memories.

The Space Colony: ARK, Speed Highway, his fight with Metal Sonic. Everything that was happening was something from his past. But who could have done all this? That was his only lingering question. Shadow remembered the radio that he had on him, perhaps the signal was still connected to Rouge.

'Hello, Rouge, incoming, Rouge can you hear me?" it was only static coming through, but he persisted, "Hello, Rouge do you hear-"

"AHHHH, HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP ME! PLEASE!" cried out a voice from the distance. Shadow stared at the direction from which it came, huffing, he put away his radio and dashed towards the commotion. There was no point in continuing to contact Rouge, it clearly wasn't working.

As the screaming got louder and louder Shadow picked up his pace, eventually spotting some creatures he recognised chasing someone. He quickly lept into action, kicking Doom's henchmen down within seconds.

Of course, Black Doom is behind this, I should have known. But I could have sworn I had defeated him, so how did he come back?

"Thank you for saving me-" The voice said, it was sweet and delicate, "-Shadow."

The brooding hedgehog looked up, his mind going blank and his mouth wide open. He couldn't believe this, he didn't believe this. It had to be another trick by Doom, she was gone, he saw it happen, there was no way she could be standing here in front of him right now.

"M-Maria?" he nearly whispered out, he was in complete disbelief. Maria's smile widened, she went to approach him until a hand grasped her shoulder, "Be careful, Maria, we don't know if this is truly him or another one of Doom's illusions."

"Professor?" Shadow was truly at a loss for words, if this wasn't real it would be a really sick joke to play on the poor hedgehog. All he ever dreamt of, ever thought about, was seeing them again; his family.

And now here they were in arms reach, yet he couldn't do it, he couldn't push himself to take those extra steps to be beside them again. Knowing they were just here now hurt him tremendously, but perhaps...

"Professor, do you have any theories on how we ended up in this world?" he soon pressed, he tried to appear calm for Maria's sake. Gerald rubbed his chin, deep in thought, his eyes scanned around the void, "I'd say it's a temporal anomaly. Someone or something has trapped us out of time, but that is just my working theory, of course."

Shadow thought about that for a moment, if Black Doom was behind this then maybe that could explain how he came back. Shadow took a glance at Maria and Gerald, "They must be from before the accident on the ARK," he said lowly to himself, "Perhaps I can change their fate if I defeat Black Doom. I will make him pay dearly for everything that I-"

A light presence graced Shadow's shoulder, a pasty white hand gently held him, but the warmth that radiated from it could rival the sun, "Shadow, you've become awfully angry since I last saw you; it's not like you."

"I promise you, Maria, I'm fine. I'll protect you both from what's to come, but you need to trust me."

"Of course, I trust you, Shadow." Maria offered him an ear-to-ear grin, and Gerlald only hummed in agreement, "It begs to assume that if we are here, perhaps other could be around too?"

Maria seemed excited by the idea, "Oh yes, I would love to meet new people, do you think there are more humans like us?"

Shadow could only laugh at that, prompting Maria to look confused, "The only other person I can think of being here is an annoying blue faker." he mumbled, Maria couldn't hear him that well. With a small sigh, Shadow had to drag himself away from the only people he could call family, "Stay safe and stay hidden, I will return to you when I can."

"Shadow, wait!" Maria cried out, he turned to her with wide eyes, "Be careful, please?" Shadow smirked and simply nodded his head, skating off into the distance to find and eliminate Doom.

[todaysdocument]

George Washington's October 3, 1789, Thanksgiving Day Proclamation.

Record Group 11: General Records of the United States GovernmentSeries: Presidential Proclamations

By the President of the United States of America

a Proclamation

Whereas it is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey his will, to be grateful for his benefits, and humbly to implore his protection and favor - and whereas both houses of Congress have by their joint committee requested me to recommend to the People of the United States a day of public Thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness.

Now therefore I do recommend and assign Thursday this 26th day of November rest to be devoted by the People of the United States to the service of that great and glorious being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be- That we pray these all unite in rendering unto him our sincere and humble thanks- for his kind case and protection of the People of this country previous to their becoming a nation- for the original and manifold mercies, and the favorable interposition of his providence, which we experienced in the course and conclusion of the late war- for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty, which we have since enjoyed- for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now lately instituted- for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge and in general for all the great and various favors which he hath been pleased to confer upon us.

And also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech him to pardon our rational and other transgressions- to enable us all, whether in public or private stations to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually- to render our national government a blessing to all the People, by constantly being a government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discretely and faithfully executed and obeyed- to protect and guide all sovereigns and nations (especially such as have shewn kindness unto us) and to bless them good government, peace, and concord- to promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and us- and generally to grant unto all mankind back a degree of temporal prosperity as he alone knows to be best.

Given under my hand at the city of New York the third day of October in the year of our Lord 1789.

G Washington

[ohholydyke]

Notes on Grief

Capitalism requires endless production, endless movement, endless consumption and endless productivity. If you are not at work, society says, then you ought to be productive on your own projects, conducting your basic survival tasks such as sleeping and eating, or engaging in some form of consumerism (shopping, bars, movies, park tickets, and so many other forms of fun which arrive at a price tag). Places and moments without buying and selling, where you can just exist unproductively—that is, without working to produce a commodity or carrying out basic survival—are few and far in between. Hobby culture dwindles, cities become barred by privatization and unwalkable infrastructure, and scrolling on socials feeds the machine (after all, we are the source of monetization, and our attention is lucrative). We are bombarded with advertisements and products and imperatives for more more more. I crave an escape from this even as I cannot help but be sucked in, and this is by design. You cannot opt out of capitalism’s linear productive, a time of the assembly line, and survive.

I crave stillness. I crave pockets in which I may simply Be. Where I may sit and listen to the wind as it speaks to me.

As I write this, I can hear the cry of mourning doves. Small, brown and white little birds with a distinctive wailing call from which their name arises. Their other common name is turtle doves. Their Navajo name is hasbídí tibágígíí, according to Wikipedia at least. Acknowledging them in the native tongue of one of the peoples to whom this land belongs feels more honoring than English, though I cannot pronounce it properly or parse any deeper meaning. Perhaps that is part of what the doves mourn for, alongside their extinct cousin the passenger pigeon. I wish I knew their name in the languages of the native tribes whose lands I currently stand on as a displaced settler. Then perhaps I could afford them the dignity of being called by their name as it would be recognized here. In Nheengatu, the language of my grandfather and our ancestors that I am desperately trying to relearn, the closest literal translation I know of is xiúsára. Chorador. Crier. Picuí, meanwhile, means dove, so Picuí-xiusára. Crier dove. Speaking in Nheengatu feels like a prayer. Finding it and a workable dictionary feels like a miracle. I would love to find a teacher one day. In another world, it would have been a first language to me. I, too, mourn for what was lost. In this sense, I stand in solidarity with the mourning dove.

Following the way of Saint Francis and the animist in me who recognizes God’s hand in all creation, I turn to the mourning dove for guidance and teaching. Like many of us, their homes are precarious, maintained only through love and dedication. Monogamous and pair-bonded, the mourning doves construct their nests and coordinate nesting shifts so as to split the load of rearing their young, who always emerge in pairs. The mourning doves always maintain multiple intimate ties, always in proximity to each other. They roost communally and breed large families, allowing them to survive in harsher periods of scarcity, hunting or predation. They build community and move together, commuting in and out of the roost collectively, like a commune of friends and family. They are plentiful here. The birds all sing loudly for the storm to come, greeting it as it arrives. I whisper my own greeting to the approaching clouds, and for a moment a shot of lighting on the horizon flashes in response. The mourning dove’s call attracts mates and coordinates the group, it also (like many birds) signals the approaching storm. The Cherokee saw them as harbingers of peaceful rains. The gentle wind seems to confirm this. Peace-bringers.

Grief disrupts assembly line time. It does so practically—bereavement, days off for funerals, depression that locks you away from productivity–but it also does so temporally. Grief keeps us present in the now of absence, acutely feeling what it is to Be without something or someone. Simultaneously, it launches us into the past before that absence, in which connections and emotions are relived and longed for over and over again. We even feel it in our bodies, slumping under mental and physical responses to loss. Acknowledging loss forces you to acknowledge change and the pain which results from it, disrupting the narrative of endless constant upon which capitalism stakes its claim to ceaseless production, growth and profit. If things can change, then the system is not inevitable or eternal. If they are not endless, we must reconsider a philosophy of growth for the mere sake of growth. If we grieve, we start to wonder what life will be like in the absence of what we took for granted. To capitalism, this means danger.

Perhaps that is why so many Americans have forgotten how to grieve. After a few days, people are expected to get over it and get back to work. Depending on the loss, there is a limited period before people’s sympathy ends. We are expected to grieve as quickly, quietly and individually as possible, and to never return to that space after. As if acceptance signifies placing grief on a shelf to be forgotten and gather dust (the five stage model itself inaccurately suggests that grief possesses linearity, in reality the stages are not always sequential, can repeat, occur out of order, vary in duration and do not encompass the whole range of grief).

What would it mean to refuse such barriers—to become Xiúsára, criers, mourners—not as a momentary experience but as a way of Being? To find ourselves in the shifting past and present now of absence, to cede linearity to mourning and reckon with change, with lack, with what was, is not, and could yet be? What if, like the mourning dove, we took up our cries regularly in search of connection, kinship, and community? What if through our cries we herald the peaceful rains, which may nourish us and our environment and wash away the filth of our systems of endless extraction? To find identity and care in mourning and, in doing so, access a different time and a different place in which we may finally sing and be still.

I stay out until the storm draws too close for comfort, then return inside. As soon as I close the door I am separated from the wind and the bird cries. I feel their absence immediately. Rather than move on, I sit with this absence and allow myself to grieve the separation between us and nature created by capitalist colonialism, just as I grieve for my people’s tongue and community. I think I will sit here a while longer, alongside the mourning dove, until I am forced to return inside, back to the temporality of the assembly line. Join me, if you wish. There is love and community here as we wait for the peaceful rains.

[debbiewebbie27]

Just gonna start a list of all the references/puns in Mentopolis because my brain takes 25 minutes to recognize each one:

Mentopolis: mental+metropolis

PCs:

Detective Hunch Curio: curiosity

Imelda Pulse: impulse

The Fix: hyperfixation

Anastasia Tension: A. Tension (attention)

Daniel Fucks: he fucks (also pleasure/sexual pleasure/urges)

Conrad Schintz: conscience

NPCs:

Victim - Norrell Ojiccle: neurological

Curio's assistant - Anna Lysis: analysis

Employees at Sugah's:

Hans Schadenfreude: schadenfreude is the pleasure by someone from another person's misfortune

Joey Sneezes: sneezing?

Libby Longshower: the feeling after a long shower? (Libido?)

Donny Urges: intrusive thought

District Attorney (DA) Mark Bition: M. Bition (ambition)

Mayor Leon Logic: logic or maybe L. Logic (illogical?)

Mr. Lance: vigilance?

The basset hound - Justin Fication: justification

Madam Loathing: loathing (self-loathing)

Orphans: forgotten/abandoned (wayward) interests (magic, reptiles, trains, lists)

Mr. Avaricci: avarice?

Locations:

Cortex City: external surface of the brain that plays an important role in consciousness

Oblongata Station: medulla oblongata - the connection between the brainstem and the spinal cord that acts as a conduit for nerve signals

Cerebell Pacific: cerebrum and/or cerebellum and also Pacific Bell telephone company

Synaptic Switchboard: synapse - the site of transmission of electrical nerve impulse

Temporal Square: temporal lobe

Hippo Campus University: hippocampus is a brain structure in the temporal lobe that has a major role in learning and memory

Occipital Park: occipital lobe is the area of the brain at the back of the head responsible for visual perception

Let me know if I missed anything or there's better references