#mirror-testing (MSR)

[nirmolray776]

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[jadelotusflower]

Oh hey, The Little Mermaid, might as well give it a go.

Hans Christian Anderson quote to start off, good choice.

This opening sequence feels long? I miss a song to deliver exposition.

Oof, the cgi is…not good. Disney know there are real life coral reefs they could have shot footage in, right?

Love the mermaid aesthetic! Shame about the cgi. The sisters sitting there mute and badly rendered doesn’t help.

Ariel passes the MSR test - Flounder, not so much.

Why is the Scuttle sequence taking place underwater? No wonder the budget was astronomical.

It also undermines the scene with Trident and ironically makes Ariel less rebellious? She doesn’t break the rules by regularly going to the surface, her first time is rescuing Eric.

Halle Bailey has a beautiful voice - I actually really love the belting.

Oh I get it, they wanted this shot and reverse engineered Ariel never having been to the surface around it.

Now we’re getting Fathoms Below. Ok.

Aw, I like Ariel helping Max swim.

Eric reaching for Ariel’s hand as she’s singing the reprise is a nice touch.

Why is the bulk of Ursula’s dialogue explaining the plot already happening? Lots of showing and telling in this movie.

Eric’s song is no Her Voice, but I get what they’re going for.

Javier Bardem is a very subdued Triton - maybe it’s a case of the greenscreens.

I do kind of love what they did for Ariel’s hair.

This movie is 2 hours 20 minutes long, and it’s because half the scenes are twice as long as they need to be. I don’t want to get into the weeds with comparisons, but the animated film screenplay was tight. Not a word wasted.

Case in point, Ursula doesn’t just say she’ll make Ariel human, she then explains that she’ll lose her tail and won’t be able to breathe underwater. Trust the actors (and the audience) please! Not everything needs to be articulated.

So Ariel doesn’t remember she needs to get Eric to kiss her? Is this trying to fix a plothole that doesn’t exist?

Between this and Eric being adopted things are needlessly complicated yet have little bearing on the plot or characters.

I do like Eric’s observatory visually mirroring Ariel’s grotto as well as thematically. It’s a cute bonding scene, these two have nice chemistry.

The market scene is nice, but has real filmed using covid safe protocols vibes. It’s begging for a proper song and dance sequence.

Ariel has never been to the surface, but can pick out star constellations?

The on land half of the film is overall more successful than the undersea half.

Look. It’s fine. A compelling central performance from Halle Bailey, and once you get over the terrible cgi there are things to enjoy.

But it falls into the trap of much of Disney’s live action output - on one level it tries to add to the story, but on the other it’s slavishly devoted to recreating iconic scenes and lines, except most of the time they just don’t translate to live action, or the original voice performance/line reading was so strong tweaking it comes across as lacklustre.

I really wish this had been in the vein of the live action Cinderella and The Jungle Book - inspired by the original animated film but creating their own aesthetic/take/interpretation. There’s a lot to mine in the story of The Little Mermaid, and there was almost the attempt here by making more of the land/sea old world/new world conflict but ultimately very little is done with it.

[cecilysass]

Okay, sorry, this gifset provoked an essay because I love this moment.

Here is the thing about The End and why it is a completely underappreciated MSR episode. This is, I would argue, the first onscreen confirmation we have had that Scully’s feelings aren’t platonic.

But wait, you say, what about all those other moments prior to this? What about her gazing at Mulder, hugging him, dancing with him, etc., etc.? What about her saving his life and going to extremes? What about previous Scully jealousy? What about that moment in Small Potatoes?

I would argue all of those moments were very carefully written and shot so that there was a plausible noromo, platonic interpretation. You could say she was just completely devoted to Mulder as a partner, completely devoted to his quest. You could say they hugged when she had cancer and danced in dream sequences because they were very close work partners. You could say her jealousy concerning Bambi, for example, was about Mulder finding some other scientist woman whom he was getting led around by because she was cute and therefore not asking Scully’s advice — a.k.a. professional jealousy. The moment in Small Potatoes comes closest to the line, but remember that during fake Mulder’s approach, Scully doesn’t move a muscle. She doesn’t shove him off, but she doesn’t lean in either. They always kept it ambiguous on purpose. 1013 knew exactly what they were doing.

Now please keep in mind I don’t agree with these platonic interpretations and I never did, lol. I am only saying that prior to The End, they tried to keep the noromo angle plausible.

Many would say it's that hallway scene in FTF that really turns the tide. And I get it. Since, well, let’s just say I have watched that scene a few times, and Scully is moving a muscle. She is definitely moving muscles.

But I would go back to The End first. I would say this is the episode that really commits to MSR. Because I don’t see a really plausible interpretation for Scully’s reaction to Diana if her feelings are truly platonic.

I mean, let’s go into the “platonic partners” mindset and test it out. Scully sees a mysterious agent show up at a briefing. This agent seems to know Mulder; Mulder seems to know her. No one is completely telling Scully the history. There is an indication that the agent has some expertise in the paranormal. All of this, yes, I can see irritating Scully in the way she was irritated by Bambi (or Phoebe!). It could provoke a “back off” kind of reaction. Scully is territorial, which need not be romantic or sexual.

But that’s not how Scully reacts. She isn’t exactly irritated. She is at first anxious, suspicious, on high guard, watching their eyes in the mirror in the car. Then she asks the Gunmen about her, and she doesn’t exactly absorb their information about her partner’s past with humor or with protective feistiness. She is visibly upset, like she's had the rug pulled out from under her. When she sees Mulder and Diana together later, you can only describe her reaction as sad, shocked.

I suppose you could force all of this into a platonic mold and say—well, she feels like her trust has been broken that he didn’t tell her about Diana, or hmm, maybe she feels threatened that Diana was his partner first and is on the same page about the supernatural.

But those explanations seem like a reach. Especially because from what we have seen of Scully, she sticks up for herself professionally without hesitation. And in this case, she doesn’t speak up at all. She hides her feelings, lying to Mulder on the phone so she won't have to face him and Diana and he won’t notice her reaction. This feelings cover up is a big tell. She’s not experiencing emotions she feels comfortable revealing exactly because they aren’t platonic, workplace emotions.

So I know people associate this ep with Diana angst and office fire angst, and yes, agreed. But I think this is also like one of the most important MSR episodes, at least from the point of view of Scully’s feelings. If you want to argue to me that this is the episode Scully realizes the full extent of her feelings, I might be able to accept that; it fits. And not for nothing, this episode was shot after the FTF hallway scene— and 1013 obviously knew FTF was next— so this was probably not an accident.

THE X-FILES | The End (5x20)

— i’m here 10000% for jealous!Scully

[enigmaticxbee]

✖️✖️✖️ 11x03 Plus One

The one where... there’s only one room at the motel and Scully can’t sleep... and murderous doppelgängers, whatever.

Tagline: The Truth Is Out There - The Truth Is Out There

Best: What is happening, are my fanfic daydreams somehow coming to life on my screen? Scully coming to Mulder in the middle of the night and asking him to hold her? Mulder getting up from their bed and grinning at himself in the bathroom mirror? Scully sleepily whispering for him to come back to bed? Mulder hurriedly dressing while telling a naked Scully in his bed to put a dimmer on that afterglow because they have to rush off to solve a case? Scully sauntering towards their adjoining motel room door to find Mulder leaning there giving her that look? GA’s ATTHS. Twice. 😏 tweet - what a time to be alive!

Worst: Don’t even get me started on their conversation about having more kids. They’ve had 16 years to have this conversation! Scully’s in her mid-50s!! This might have made sense 10 years earlier in the IWTB era - it feels like a classic tv revival case of an idea a writer had years earlier that makes its way into a revival like no time has passed and these characters haven’t been living their lives - together! - for years. We all know they’re terrible at communicating but give me a fucking break. And the fact that they only have this conversation and sleep together - at the St Rachel motel 🙄 - to set up the finale pregnancy twist 😑

❌ Flashlights

❌ Woods/Desert

❌ Slideshow

❌ Autopsy

❌ Evidence Disappears

❌ Scully Misses It

❌ Mulder Ditch

❌ Sunflower Seeds

❌ Voiceover

❌ Catch Phrase

❌ Scully is a Medical Doctor

❌ Mulder is Spooky

❌ Scuuullllaaaaayy! Muullllderrrr!

❌ Fox/Dana

✔️ Inappropriate Touching (that I am here for)

❌ Casual Scully

✔️ Casual Mulder

❌ Trench Coats

❌ Bad Tie Watch

✔️ Glasses Watch 😎

✔️ Taking! It! Personally!: Scully

50 States: Virginia x21 (44/50)

Investigate: Together & Apart

Solve Rate: 67%

✔️ Bechdel Test

MSR: 🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

Goriness: 👽👽👽

Creepiness: 👽👽👽

Humor: 👽👽👽

Rewatch Thoughts:

William check-in: They somehow have a whole conversation about having more kids without mentioning him directly… Isn’t the issue less that William was a miracle and more that they had to give him up for his own protection and what would make another kid any safer?? Although with Mulder around it would be different than in season 9. More to say, I don’t think Scully’s issue with having another kid was who to have it with.

Break-up check-in: All their maybe you’ll find someone else stuff just feels ridiculous to me... Mulder’s face when Scully says that she can’t imagine that she’ll need him 🥺 - but also he knows her, that she’ll protest and try to deny herself what she really wants, but that she wants him, and he’ll be there waiting when she opens the door.

The opening scene is very unpleasant - not my type of music and crowded mosh pits are my nightmare

The site of the bear bts video!

Scully’s little smile says she thinks he’s handsome too

Only one room huh? My favorite trope brought to life?? Never mind, there’s a pullout sofa. They could have just been in adjoining rooms (like every fanfic ever).

Karin Konoval (the memorable Mrs. Peacock) plays both Judy and Chucky - I don’t think I realized that the first time I saw this episode because I am very unobservant

Wtf is Dookie?

CC trying to write about a middle aged woman’s insecurities about being past her child-bearing years is so cringey - all dried up?? Would Scully have complicated feelings about aging and motherhood? Of course! But letting Judy get to her like that just does not feel authentic.

Mulder and Scully could argue about ghosts in their sleep - and probably have.

Mulder: You still got some scoot in your boot. Is that a saying? 😂

Scully’s hair looks great this episode - especially in the parking lot scene.

They are very blasé about the death of a man who came to them for help hours earlier and they sent home, telling him it was all in his head…

Things I do like about their bedtime chat:

- Scully asking to be held 🥺

- Mulder: I’ll come push your wheelchair with my wheelchair.

- Mulder’s arm around her

- Scully: Sometimes I think the world is going to hell and that we’re the only two people who can save it. This is why it took them 7 years to get together the first time.

- Scully: We’ll think of something. That smirk!

Chuck and Judy being unable to kill Mulder and Scully because they’re fighting over who’s more in love with them, relatable.

Scully rationalizing her evil doppelgänger away - after she’s eaten magic bread pills.

That final scene!! I may have watched the gif of this a few (hundred) times.

[skxrbrand]

Skarbrand has no ability to pass the MSR test when he’s in rage mode. If you placed a mirror in front of him, he would think it was a rival Bloodthirster and attack it.

[loudlooks]

Close Shave

Is Tiva Fic Amnesty still a thing now that Ziva’s officially back? BTW, I’m totally ignoring the “not every fic needs to be published” rule here, consider that a warning.

I don’t remember what time frame I pictured this in, maybe season 5 or 6? As usual, no plot. Loosely inspired by a scene from The X-files (which unfortunately wasn’t even MSR, except in my imagination).

Also on FF and AO3

Word count: 1805

A yank on the drawer handle revealed his electric shaver. Grabbing it with one hand, rubbing the scruff on his chin with the other, he looked up just in time to see Ziva roll her eyes.

“What?”

“Imagine if I shaved my legs at my desk,” she replied testily.

He raised an eyebrow and grinned widely, only mildly disappointed he hadn’t come up with that image before. “Nobody would get any work done,” he said as his eyes wandered to where her legs were hidden behind the cold, hard metal of her desk.

She turned towards her computer screen, but he caught the corners of her lips twitch ever so slightly.

“Think of the cleaning crew, Tony,” she said flatly.

Ignoring her comment, he tried to remember what her bare legs looked like while hitting the power button on his shaver. Silence greeted him and he pushed the switch once more.

Nothing.

Resisting the urge to smack it on the side of his desk, he muttered, “Damn it, I charged you yesterday.”

Turning the electric razor over and over in his hand, vigorously  pressing the button a few more times—surely it will work this time—he looked up when Gibbs dumped two items on his desk before heading to the elevator.

He picked up Gibbs’ straight razor and opened it carefully. As the blade glinted in the fluorescent light overhead, he met Ziva’s eyes across the bullpen, and deadpanned, “I think the boss wants me dead.”

She was beside him in a flash, admiring the lethal piece of steel with an eager smile. “I have not used one of those in years.”

“Why did you use a…” He stood up, pushing images of slit throats and blood stains to the back of his mind. “You know what, I don’t wanna know.” He grabbed the shaving gel and pointed it at her. “If I’m not back in ten, call Ducky and tell him to bring a body bag.”

He tried to walk around her, but Ziva stopped him with a finger to his chest. “I am very good with knives, I could give you a shave.”

Staring down at her smiling face, he raised an eyebrow. The gleam in her eyes both worried and excited him. He bit down a smile as angry hornets seemed to take up residence in his stomach.

“Someone’s an eager beaver.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips, images of her strong tan legs, and a skimpy bikini bottom flashed to the forefront of his mind.

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, it only made him want to stay in her personal space even longer. Accepting her offer would achieve just that. “Fine,” he said with a calmness he didn’t feel.

Her smile turned mischievous and his brain to mush; he’d always had a soft spot for her dangerous side. It haunted him in his dreams, and occasionally his nightmares.

She grabbed a small towel from her backpack, and almost speed-walked towards the men’s room. He followed her like a puppy—who’s the eager beaver now—his gaze focused on the sway of her hips.

The way she barged into the men’s room like she owned the place sent a tingle down his spine. She kind of did, he supposed, other agents always scattered like roaches afraid of the light when she walked in there.

“This isn’t going to be perfect,” Ziva said as she dumped the towel next to the sink, turned on the hot water tap, then grabbed a stack of paper towels from the dispenser. “But it will be fun.” Her gaze flicked down his body, briefly landing on his lips on the way up.

His smile wavered, then he grimaced into the mirror and rubbed his hands over his cheeks. “I don’t want to end up like Leatherface.” He ignored her look of confusion—as well as the disappointment in himself for once again skirting around their obvious physical attraction—and continued, “Isn’t it ironic that I trust you more with a razor sharp blade against my throat than behind the wheel of a car.”

She roughly pushed him aside with her hip, stepped in front of the sink and glared at his reflection. He patted his cheeks again, making sure that laser sharp look hadn’t rendered a shave unnecessary.

After soaking the towel with hot running water and wringing it out, she handed it to him, and told him to cover his face. He briefly complained about how ridiculously elaborate she was making things, but complied after she raised an eyebrow and tested the sharpness of the razor on a paper towel.

His face and ears warmed exponentially with each passing moment of awkward silence. “I feel like an idiot.” The towel covering his face only half responsible for his mixed feelings.

“Good.”

The hint of amusement in her voice was barely audible, but enough to release the tightness that had settled around his heart. A second later, Ziva pulled the towel away, made room next to the sink and easily lifted herself onto the countertop. As soon as she grabbed hold of his tie, pulling him in between her legs, any sense of awkwardness evaporated. He scanned her face intently, looking—hoping—for...for what exactly? The lingering smell of her shampoo heightened his senses, and he wondered, not for the first time, when she had started getting under his skin quite like this.

Ziva seemed unaffected, preoccupied with lathering up shaving gel in the palms of her hands.

Clinging to the belief that he had gotten better at reading her than even Gibbs, he hoped for a look, he’d settle for a glance—one of those furtive, yet exposed glances she sometimes sent him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention.

And there it was, so fleeting he would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been fixated on her every move. Unaware, her gaze immediately followed what her hands were doing—spreading the gel evenly all over his two-day stubble.

Emboldened by the evanescent look, he smiled faintly and placed his hands on either side of her legs. She narrowed her eyes at a spot close to his ear, fussing with the gel too long for it to be anything other than a distraction.

“Stop smiling,” she said quietly.

His smile widened, she briefly closed her eyes, then met his. “Tony.”

It never seized to amaze him how much she could say with just one word, his name. Not quite an admonishment, more of an acknowledgement, a “not now, but maybe later”.

She held the razor up, and he knew she was right; there wasn’t time to get into any of this now, he had to be clean-shaven and dressed to the nines in half an hour. Why was their timing always off?

He sighed and relaxed his face so she could get to work.

Pulling the skin taut with one hand, she placed the edge of the cold blade against his cheek with the other. “I haven’t done this in a while.”

His eyes flashed to hers. Was she talking about the shaving or that thing between them that they weren’t talking about? The mischievous grin appeared again, only this time it annoyed him more than anything else. He was tired of maintaining the status quo, evading his feelings with humor and banter.

As she moved the blade downwards in slow, even strokes that he could barely feel, he considered the possibility of having read her wrong. Maybe their physical closeness, the intimacy of trusting her to run a blade over his face and throat, had clouded his judgement.

“How attached are you to your sideburns?” She wasn’t even trying to hide the teasing in her voice.

His skin tingled as sweat began to form, frustration building as feelings of doubt settled deep down inside. “Can you stop joking.”

She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“Hey, I joke to deflect.” Ziva narrowed her eyes. “And, occasionally out of boredom,” he conceded.

She lowered her hands, busied them with cleaning the blade, then looked at him decisively. “I know.” Inhaling deeply, she placed to razor on his other cheek. “Let us  just get this over with.”

Did she mean the shave, or the conversation they had been avoiding for years?

Her hands moved expertly over his face as his drifted to her thighs on their own volition. She stilled her movements, a beat passed before her gaze met his. Open and exposed she bit her bottom lip, then got back to work.

He didn’t dare move his hands until she rinsed the blade and carefully placed it aside. His fingers squeezed gently, feeling the strong muscle underneath the rough denim as she held his gaze.

She dabbed his face clean with wet paper towels, avoiding his gaze again, a myriad of emotions  washing over her eyes, eventually settling on fear.

“It will be dangerous,’ she said gravely.

It took him a moment to realize she was talking about the undercover op, not them. He grinned and squeezed her thighs reassuringly. “You’ll have my back.”

Shaking her head vigorously, she said, “No, Tony, I will be in the van down the road, it could take minutes before I…”

Smoothing her fingers over his cheeks,  her thumbs briefly caressed his lips and she made eye contact.

He smiled gently. “I’ll be careful, I’m gonna want another shave like this.”

She released a breath, fear fading from her eyes as she leaned in closer. Her lips touched his tentatively at first, then firmly. Claiming him, giving him a reason to be extra careful.

The sound of the door handle barely registered in his mind, and was swiftly followed by Ziva’s warm hands on his chest, pushing him backwards as she slid of the countertop, turned and smoothly wiped up some spilled water with a paper towel.

From the corner of his eye he saw the door open and a familiar figure walk in. Briefly looking at Ziva in the mirror, he noticed a light blush on her cheeks.

“Oh, hey, boss,” he said lightly.

Gibbs looked at him with scrutiny, then a gave a small nod. “Nice job, Ziver.”

She turned around, blush gone, that mischievous look that always stirred up the hornets’ nest in his stomach firmly in place. Smiling smugly, she looked from him to Gibbs, and said, “It’s not every day I have the opportunity to put I knife so close to DiNozzo’s throat.”

Gibbs smirked and walked past them without a second glance.

Feeling overly confident he winked at Ziva before quickly gathering his things, and catching up to her at the door. He glanced back at Gibbs, then opened the door for Ziva and whispered, “That was a really close shave.”

[palidoozy-art]

Wouldn't it be rogue test?

Nah, though I keep arbitrarily wanting to spell it that way!

The mirror test – sometimes called the mark test, mirror self-recognition test (MSR), red spot technique, or rouge test – is a behavioural technique developed in 1970 by psychologist Gordon Gallup Jr. as an attempt to determine whether an animal possesses the ability of visual self-recognition.

The rouge test is a version of the mirror test used with human children. Using rouge makeup, an experimenter surreptitiously places a dot on the face of the child. The child is then placed in front of a mirror and their reactions are monitored; depending on the child’s development, distinct categories of responses are demonstrated. This test is widely cited as the primary measure for mirror self-recognition in human children.

[capnportofficial]

IDK why people call other people pigs as insults

I mean. Come on.

Not only are they cute, they’re hog-ly (hehe) intelligent. According to an article, “The mirror test is one of the few direct measures of sense of self in animals. Subjects are anesthetized and marked on parts of their body, indicators which they cannot feel on their skin or see without a mirror. After animals awaken, they demonstrate mirror self-recognition (MSR) if they use the mirror to touch and explore the newly marked part of their body. Great apes, dolphins, elephants, and magpies show convincing evidence of MSR. Other species, such as macaques, dogs, and pigs, may use the mirror to find hidden food but do not use the mirror to investigate themselves in any demonstrable way. Presumably, these animals comprehend something about the relationship between their own body, the mirror image, and the food. In one mirror experiment, piglets showed signs of a precursor to self-awareness known as contingency-checking: repetitive movements at the mirror to see if the image is doing the same thing as one’s body. Usually, animals that show contingency-checking go on to demonstrate MSR. Therefore, indications of possible pig MSR are intriguing. If subsequent tests are more conclusive, pigs will join an elite cognitive nonhuman group. If not, their behavior still shows they understand something about themselves in relation to their environment. In either case, pig responses in these initial mirror studies hint that they possess a sense of self akin to that of other intelligent animals, such as monkeys.”

Article: http://www.naturalhistorymag.com/features/122899/signs-of-intelligent-life

http://www.naturalhistorymag.com/features/122899/signs-of-intelligent-life

[leiascully]

Fic:  Between A Rock And A Hard Place (Part 5/5)

Timeline: Season 10 (replaces My Struggle in the All The Choices We’ve Made ‘verse - Visitor + Resident + etc.) Rating: PG Characters:  Mulder, Scully, Tad O’Malley, Sveta (established MSR) Content warning:  canon-typical body horror (mentions of abduction, forced pregnancy, etc.) A/N:  I’m collecting all the related stories that go with Visitor/Resident under the title “All The Choices We’ve Made”, because it felt right at the time.  This story is an alternate My Struggle that reflects M&S’ growth/change in the ATCWM ‘verse. I’m weaving canon dialogue into the stories in an attempt to keep the reframing plausibly in line with canon.  

Part One  |  Part Two  |  Part Three  |  Part Four  |   AO3

It's not a surprise the next day when they emerge from the Hoover Building, where they've been supervising the setup of all of the new computers, to see Tad O'Malley's gleaming black limo.  The door opens.  They get in.  

"Glad we caught you, agents," O'Malley says with a grin.  

"We're not hard to track down," Mulder says.  

"It's the chip in my neck," Scully says dryly, and Mulder isn't sure he's ever heard her joke about it before.  But maybe she's spitting into the wind too, reminded of how whoever is behind all this has tampered with her at a molecular level.  He admits it is easy to direct (or misdirect) that frustration at Tad O'Malley.  

"Hi," Sveta says, waving at them from across the car.  O'Malley hasn't brought out the champagne this time, but she's clutching a bottle of Perrier.  

Mulder leans back against the leather seat.  The car certainly is plush.  The perks of selling out, he imagines.  

"I didn't think you'd come, Agent Scully," O'Malley says.  "After all, your work is so important.  So I took the liberty of coming to you."  He opens a small fridge concealed under the seat.  "Perrier?"

"Thank you," Scully says, accepting a bottle.  "What are you doing here, Mr. O'Malley?"

"Exposing a global conspiracy that's crushing the soul of America," O'Malley declares.  "Agent Mulder knows what I'm talking about."

"You're ready to make a move?" Mulder asks.

"The Truth Squad with Tad O'Malley with a world exclusive," O'Malley tells him.  "The story to end all stories."  

"Why don't you give us a preview?" Scully says, settling into her seat.  

O'Malley leaned forward.  "We begin with a war.  The Civil War.  The United States splits in two.  A new government forms.  They mint their own currency.  They make their own laws."

"They perpetuate the enslavement and genocide of millions of people," Scully murmurs.  

"That enslavement creates the haves and the have-nots.  And the halves begin to believe, to truly believe, that they are above the law.  That they can meddle with the fates and lives of people they start to consider subhuman: black, white, Native American, and everyone else.  An experimental program to create a better person through a variety of methods, including surgical intervention and selective breeding."

Sveta shivers.  Scully looks at her compassionately.  She reaches for Sveta's hand.  

O'Malley doesn't seem to notice their discomfort.  "The shadow government continues to exist after the war.  The genetic engineering of a superior human continues in the shadows of the shadow.  And they have other secrets."

"It all sounds like a ghost story," Scully says in that even voice that immediately sends Mulder into full alert.  "Designed to scare children."

"Children should be afraid," O'Malley tells her.  

"Everyone should," Mulder says, and he sees the shiver in her eyelid that means she's trying not to roll her eyes at him.  "It's a conspiracy bigger and more secret than the Manhattan Project, with tentacles reaching back into the very roots of America."

"The metaphor is mixed," Scully says.

"All the more apt," Mulder tells her.  "The Civil War set the stage and World War I gave us access to new technologies, but it wasn't until victories in Europe and Japan that the drama really ratcheted up for the rest of the world."

"Political and economic conditions became perfect for execution of the larger plan," O'Malley declared.  "The success of the program in the former Confederate states had spread to the re-United States.  Agents of the conspiracy, swearing their allegiance to President Grant, had infiltrated the highest levels of government.  World War I and World War II had weakened the European powers that might have held the US in check.  As it was, they were delighted to accept the offer of help from the United States, and if it came with a price, they were happy to pay it.  Their scientists began working with our scientists.  The project stretched those insidious tentacles to grasp the entire globe."

Mulder grins.  This is his wheelhouse.  Even as much as he's been jerked around and lost his faith, it's still exhilarating to put together the pieces of the puzzle he worked at for half his life.  "Paper Clip.  Experiments in the aftermath of the atomic bombings.  The crash at Roswell leading to cannibalized alien technology and cannibalized alien corpses, all resources that furthered the project."

O'Malley breaks in.  "The bomb was the latest threat of extinction, but not the first.  The energy of the explosions acted as transducers, creating wormholes that drew in alien ships just like the one that crashed at Roswell, ships that ran using electro-gravitic propulsion.  Sacrificing those alien lives with their extraterrestrial biology and their advanced technology delayed our self-immolation on the altar of democracy."

"World leaders signed secret memos directing scientific stuff of alien technology and biochemistry," Mulder puts in.  "All in the name of furthering the project, creating a new species that could survive alien invasion or whatever else might wipe us out.  Classified studies were done at military installations, extracting alien tissue.  S4, Groom Lake, Wright Patterson, and Dulce: all part of a network of black sites where tests were conducted using advanced alien technology recovered from the ships."  He glances at Sveta.  She has one hand over her mouth.  "Tests including human hybridization through gene editing and forced implantation of the resulting embryos in unsuspecting human subjects."  He swallows and tries not to look at Scully, but can't help meeting her eyes.  "Embryos with extraterrestrial DNA."  

Sveta gasps.  "Why do such a thing and lie about it?  Our own government?"

"Aliens aside," Scully says, "the American government has conducted experiments on unsuspecting populations as a matter of policy.  The Tuskegee Syphilis Study lasted for years beyond the point where they could have cured the patients.  The scientists in charge chose not to inform their subjects because they were African-American.  They let them die horrible, preventable deaths, claiming it was all in the name of science.  Genetic material was extracted from a sample of a tumor taken from a black woman named Henrietta Lacks and used without her consent or her family's.  Other people have been sterilized against their will, or stolen from their families.  I doubt we'll ever understand the full extent of the violence done to the indigenous peoples of the Americas."  She exhales loudly.  "While I cannot substantiate all of Agent Mulder's claims, I have found evidence of anomalous genetic material being implanted or otherwise introduced into the DNA of numerous subjects, including myself.  And you."

"What are they trying to do?" Sveta asks.

"That's the missing piece," Mulder tells her.  "We've learned so much, but some part of this eludes us."

"But it's not hard to imagine," O'Malley breaks in.  "A government hiding, no, hoarding alien technology for seventy years, at the potential expense of all human life and the future of the planet.  A government inside the government, secretly preparing for more than a hundred years for the long-awaited event."

"The takeover of America," Mulder says, feeling sick to his stomach.

"And then the world itself," O'Malley says with an almost religious fervor.  "By any means necessary, however violent or cruel.  Severe drought brought on by weather wars conducted secretly using aerial contaminants distributed via chemtrails and high-altitude electromagnetic waves.  Perpetual war waged overseas, a drain on our resources and our energy engineered by politicians to create problem-reaction-solution scenarios to distract, enrage, and enslave American citizens at home with tools like the Patriot Act, the National Defense Authorization Act, and pure old-fashioned jingoism, abridging the Constitution and its promised freedoms in the name of national security.  Every dissident, every minority: a terrorist in situ.  Vietnam, but this time they're doing it right."

"Militarize the police forces," Mulder says slowly.  "Martial law.  FEMA building prison camps.  Mercenaries fighting under our flag, but not under our orders."

"The corporate takeover of food and agriculture," O'Malley says smugly.  "It's already begun.  Monsanto.  Dicamba.  They've got pharmaceuticals and healthcare in their pocket too.  An insurrection of men and women with clandestine agendas to dull, sicken, terrify, and control a populace already consumed by consumerism."

Mulder leans over to Scully.  "I didn't really like Wall-E," he whispers.  She shakes her head at him.

"A government that taps your phone, collects your data, and monitors your whereabouts with impunity," O'Malley says with a flourish.  "A government preparing to use that data against you when it strikes and the final takeover begins."

Mulder nods slowly.  There is a seed of truth in O'Malley's conspiracy-addled rant.  He's been seeking it long enough to know it when he sees it.  The nation is poised on a precipice.  All the rest of it is lies, smoke and mirrors, a way to turn the paranoid and the credulous into easy money.  But somewhere, under eighty mattress-thick layers of right-wing garbage, is a pea-sized truth, and he's the princess shifting uncomfortably.  

"The takeover of America?" Scully asks.

O'Malley leans forward.  "By a well-oiled and well-armed multinational group of elites that will cull, kill, and subjugate."

"Happening as we sit here in this car," Scully says.

"It's happening all around us," O'Malley tells her.

"It's been happening for years," Mulder murmurs.  "The other shoe waiting to drop."

"It'll probably start on a Friday," O'Malley says.  "The banks will announce a security action necessitating that their computers go offline all weekend."

"Digital money will disappear," he says.

Sveta looks startled.  "They can just steal your money?"  Scully squeezes her hand.

"While the banks are vulnerable,  they'll detonate strategic electromagnetic pulse bombs to knock out major grids.  Traffic lights, security systems, everything: gone.  Hospitals will be on backup generators indefinitely.  It will seem like an attack on America by terrorists or Russia."

"Or a simulated alien invasion featuring alien replica vehicles already in use," Mulder murmurs.  

"An alien invasion of the U.S.?" Scully says.

"The Russians tried it in '47," Mulder reminds her.  "Or they took credit for it, anyway."

"They'll take more than credit this time," O'Malley says.  "This goes worldwide.  Everything that has happened for the past seventy years has been engineered by this global conspiracy, these shadow players.  The structures they've built are designed to crumble, tearing America apart at the seams.  They'll build a new world on the ruins of our current one.  It will happen soon, and it will happen fast."  

Scully shakes her head.  "You can't say these things," she tells O'Malley.

"I'm gonna say them tomorrow," O'Malley says with an almost religious fervor in his voice.  

Scully frowns.  "It's fearmongering, isolationist techno-paranoia so bogus and dangerous and stupid that it borders on treason.  Saying these things would be incredibly irresponsible."  

"I hate to say this, Scully, but if this is true, it would be irresponsible not to say it," Mulder says reluctantly.  

"If it's the truth," Sveta says, "you have to say it."  

"It's not the truth," Scully says.

O'Malley grins that smarmy grin.  "Agent Scully, with all due respect, I don't think you know what the truth is."

"The only thing I don't know is where you're taking us," Scully says, ice in her voice.  "Except on a wild goose chase."

"It's lunchtime," O'Malley says.  "I thought you might want something to eat."  

It's clear from the look Scully gives him that there is a long, long list of people she would rather have lunch with before she deigned to have lunch with Tad O'Malley.  In fact, it might be approaching seven billion people long.  

"I think what Agent Scully is trying to convey is that we've got to decline your invitation," Mulder says.

"You believe me," O'Malley says to Mulder with certainty.

Mulder looks at Scully.  She looks back at him, her eyes tight just at the corners.  "I might have, back in the day.  My doctor says paranoia is bad for me."  

O'Malley sits back, disappointed.  Scully's shoulders loosen.  She glances at him and there's something between approval and gratitude in her eyes.  He smiles at her.  

There's a pinging noise.  Scully checks her email on her phone.  Her brow creases.  She scrolls through something, then flicks back to the top and reads through it again.  "This is strange."

"What?"  Mulder leans over.  

"Sveta, the lab retested your samples.  A new tech was running the machines, and a number of test results were compromised.  In fact, they retested your samples twice to be sure.  Your DNA shows no anomalies."  Scully looks up.  "Whatever's been done to you, it had nothing to do with this project."

"Nothing?" Sveta and O'Malley ask at the same time.

"That can't be right," O'Malley says.  "Retest her."  

"I don't want to be tested again," Sveta says.  

"You're my evidence," O'Malley tells her angrily.  "You have to."

"She doesn't have to do anything," Scully tells him.  "She's under our protection now."

"We'll see about that," O'Malley says.  He presses a button.  The driver pulls over.  He opens the door.  "Goodbye, agents.  Goodbye, Sveta."

"What will you do?" Sveta asks him as she climbs out of the car.  

"I'll do what I do," O'Malley says.  "I'll tell the truth."

The car door slams shut.

Truth Squad with Tad O'Malley the next day is a runaway hit: high ratings, viral content, memes, gifs, and a media uproar.  "I promised you the truth today, but that truth has come under assault," O'Malley says, looking into the camera, and they roll footage of Sveta confessing to reporters, accusing him of telling lies.

"I am so sorry if I misled anyone," she says tearfully, wringing her hands in front of her.

"They get her?" Mulder asks.

"She should be safe," Scully tells him.  "They'll work on relocating her."

"Material witness?" Mulder asks.  "That's a bit of a stretch."

"It won't be by the time all of this is over," Scully says grimly.  "I went to the hospital to collect the samples and had our labs run them again."

"And?" Mulder says.

"Sveta and I share a lot," Scully says.  "Including anomalous genetic material."

"O'Malley must be furious," Mulder says, propping his hands on his hips as he thinks.

"Rumor is they're going to pull the plug," Scully says.  "No more truth, no more Squad."

"To his followers, that'll feel like a sign," Mulder says.  "A shot fired across their bows."

Scully shrugs.  "Damned if you do, damned if you don't.  Either we embolden a liar, or we enrage his base."    

"Politics have never been our strong suit," Mulder says.  "You know, there's something called the Venus Syndrome."

"The plant, the planet, or something else I'm afraid to ask about?" Scully asks.

"The planet," Mulder says.  "It's a runaway global warming scenario that leads us to the brink of the Sixth Extinction.  Those with the means will prepare to move off the planet into space, which will have already been weaponized against the poor, huddled masses of humanity that haven't been exterminated by the über-violent fascist elites.  If you believe in that kind of thing."

"Honestly, these days it sounds almost plausible," Scully tells him, leaning on one of the desks.  Whoever has funded the untimely revival of the X-Files has been generous: they have two normal desks and four standing desks scattered around the office.  It's much too flexible a workspace for two people.  

Their phones go off almost in unison.  They both reach for them.

"Skinner," Scully says.

"Skinner," Mulder confirms.  He reads the message:  Situation critical.  Need to see you both ASAP.  

They look at each other.  

"Scully, are you ready for this?" Mulder asks.

"I don't know there's a choice," she says, but she sounds fierce and proud.

There are wheels turning somewhere.  He can almost hear the gears of the world grinding.  They won't get caught in the teeth this time, won't get torn apart.  Whoever is behind everything they've been through will be exposed, finally and totally, brought to light.  They'll have to open the wound to clean it out, but that's all right.  They've finally learned how to heal.  He opens the door for her and they stride toward the elevator together.

[manlybutterflys]

My dog does not pass the MSR test. At least once a day he becomes startled by his own reflection and, just now, he was staring at himself in the mirror when I came up behind him. He switched to look at my reflection so I crouched down like [reflection me] was gonna lunge at him and he ducked back, barked, then ran off tripping over my foot.

This is honestly not much because he regularly gets startled by the giant potted plant that hasn't moved in 15 years and the concrete frogs in the yard that likewise haven't moved in 20. He's not the brightest crayon in the shed.

[mangokiwitropicalswirl]

Post-Detour fic (yay!) from a new writer

I’m posting this on behalf of a new writer @docendo--discimus. It’s always a treat to have new writers, and as far as I’m concerned, there can never be enough post-Detour fic in the world. 🙌🙌🙌 _______________________________________________________________

First time fic writer, super nervous! Welcoming constructive feedback. This is PG-13 at most. MSR, definitely fluff. Alternative ending for the wine and cheese scene in Detour. Couldn’t decide on a title. Thank you for publishing!!

Scully can’t believe what she’s about to do, but at the same time it feels as natural as breathing. She’s secretly quite relieved to have gotten out of that team building conference. As she’s gathering up the silver platter she’s thinking about what she really wants out of this night. Mulder is her best friend, and a lot more than that if she’s being honest with herself. When do they ever have the chance or the courage to spend time together outside of work? Their worlds revolve around chasing or running away from monsters, out in the world or in their own minds. Normal people, normal friends get drunk off cheap wine in shitty motels. That’s what she thinks she really wants out of tonight. She double checks her hair in the mirror. She double checks her intentions.

Maybe a little more would be nice. It’s been what, five years now? There’s an undeniable tension there. When he’d leaned in close in the car to whisper disdain in her ear, she’d be lying to herself if she said the sensation didn’t light her up. A million other things she wanted him to whisper in her ear came to mind. She just hoped it didn’t show on her face. Maybe she’s not looking for a revelation tonight, but a way to break that tension.

Maybe. She hasn’t made up her mind.

She knocks on his door.

“It’s open.” Of course it is. With all Mulder’s been through, you’d think the man would lock his motel doors. But he almost never does.

Scully comes in with the platter in one hand and a playful gleam in her eye. She feels silly for a moment, but Mulder smiles and throws playful right back at her.

“Who cut the cheese?”

“Since you won’t be making it to the conference,” she says, shutting the door behind her and double checking that this is okay. She receives no protest, so she makes for the bed. She’s a lot more at ease now, comfortable in their banter. Mulder’s response brings a smile to her lips.

Swiveling in his chair to face her near the bed, he says “Partayy.” It’s casual. It’s fun. She’s fun. She surprises herself with what comes out of her mouth next.

“However I must remind you that this goes against the Bureau’s policy of male and female agents consorting in the same motel room while on assignment.”

Where the hell did that come from? She’s opening the wine absentmindedly and marveling at how low and gravelly her voice had gotten there.

“Try any of that tail hook crap on me Scully and I’ll kick your ass.”

He’s playing the game; he always does. Doesn’t mean much, but she was right about it being as natural as breathing. She loosens up pouring the wine.

“Pop quiz: what animal will attack the strongest leaving the weakest to escape?”

…No. Oh Mulder. She looks up from the wine, though not at him, and mentally prepares herself for what’s coming next. When he starts outlining theories for something she didn’t even know was a case, she knows it’s over. He walks out and she raises a glass in disappointment and frustration. She downs the whole glass and gathers up the tray. Could she go after him to investigate his hunch together? Sure. But why waste the wine?

Before she can make it out the door, he comes back in.

“Forget something?”

Scully remains by the desk with the tray in her hand the way she’d come in, her playful gleam replaced by exasperation.

“Let’s build a tower, Scully.” He takes a step forward and gingerly takes the tray from her hand and sets it on the desk. He refills her empty glass and takes one himself, holding hers out. She hesitantly takes it, eyes searching.

“What happened to that thing you had to check out?”

He clinks her glass and pulls out the desk chair, motioning for her to sit. “There are other things I’d like to check out tonight.” Her eyebrow arches on muscle memory.

He’s really playing ball now, and she’s not sure how to proceed. She sits and he disappears from her sight for a moment, glass in hand. She hears it clunk down on the bedside table and turns. It’s empty, and Mulder’s taken off his jacket. He’s surveying the room.

“You know, on second thought, we’ll probably need that chair for the base. And if we’re really gonna do this, you’ll need to take off your jacket.”

Scully hasn’t said a word, but takes a sip from her glass and stands up. He’s at her side in a stride, putting her glass down for her and helping her out of her jacket. “Mulder,” she half protests as he seems to whirl around her. She still has no idea how to proceed. After discarding Scully’s jacket unceremoniously, Mulder looks her in the eye and she knows he was right about their nonverbal communication skills. She softens despite herself and raises her glass.

“A toast to the power of team building?”

Mulder smiles, goes straight for the bottle, and meets her glass with a clink. “To consorting in motel rooms and breaking policy,” he says with a smirk, and she’s hooked.

They spend the next hour growing louder and louder with each glass and genuinely attempting a furniture tower. Scully feels a warmth spread throughout her body when he’s behind her, pressed into her while he uses his height to take the coffee maker from her hands to add to the tower. She coughs for his attention, and he looks down and laughs. Wordlessly, he lifts her up and she places the coffee maker on top of the tower herself. When he sets her down, he’s like a puppy, grinning from ear to ear.

“We did it! Behold,” he declares triumphantly to his invisible audience, “the greatest motel furniture tower in all of Western Florida!”

Mulder is beaming at her, his grin as infectious as ever, when the mood shifts. Scully doesn’t know if it’s the wine or that look in his eye, but she’s suddenly tingly all over.

He lowers his voice. “I couldn’t have done it alone. Any of it. And I wouldn’t want to be out there with anyone but you, Scully.” He lays a hand on her arm and uses the other to gently push a piece of hair behind her ear. Tracing the curve of her elbow, he takes hold of her hand, and her heart nearly beats out of her chest. He’s stepping closer, eyes locked on hers, inquiring, asking permission. She doesn’t have to say anything.

He kisses her, ever so gently. Testing the waters. He pulls back, and she smiles, pulling him back in by the hips. Her hand is on the back of his neck and his lips are pressed against hers when the world falls apart. After all that building, the furniture tower crashes down.

Scully had been leaning against the chair, which had been stacked on top of the couch, which held above it an end table, a suitcase holder, and that coffee maker. With a bang loud enough to wake whatever monster Mulder thought there to be in their vicinity, it all tumbles down the side of the couch.

Mulder jumps and Scully’s hands fly to her mouth. They both look at the wreckage, then back at each other. Then suddenly, before the thoughts of damages, reports, expenses, and explanations could even cross their minds, they were laughing. They were laughing like they laughed in the rain that very first case, like nothing else in the world mattered but the absurdity of it all and sharing it with one another. Mulder doubles over and Scully snorts, which only made Mulder laugh more.

She sits on the bed to catch her breath, and when Mulder sits beside her, she leans into his shoulder.

“Maybe we needed that conference after all,” she muses. He turns her chin up towards him and shakes his head.

“At the conference I wouldn’t be able to do this,” he whispers, kissing her lightly again. She rests a hand on his thigh and leans into the kiss. Her rational mind chimes in. She’s not sure now’s the time. There’s a mound of furniture and calls to make and apparently, according to Mulder, a case to investigate. She grudgingly pulls away, meets his confused face with a soft smile. “No, we never needed that conference.”

When they finish picking up their fallen tower and Scully collects her jacket, she stands hesitant to leave in his doorway. She realizes something. “Hey Mulder–what was it were you going to check out before?”

His eyes light up and he grabs his coat.

“Well actually, I was thinking of heading over to the Asekoff house. I have a theory…”

His hand was on the small of her back, urging them out the door before she knew it.

Scully wasn’t sure what she’d wanted from tonight, but she believes she got it.

[enigmaticxbee]

✖️✖️✖️ 7x16 Chimera

The one where... Mulder leaves Scully on a nasty stakeout to investigate affairs in suburbs... there are ravens? and broken mirrors?

Best: Scully: Mulder, when you find me dead, my desiccated corpse propped up staring lifelessly through the telescope at drunken frat boys peeing and vomiting into the gutter just know that my last thoughts were of you... and how I’d like to kill you. Mulder: I’m sorry, who is this? Grumpy, melodramatic Scully is my favorite. I think Mulder likes her too.

Worst: What makes this sheriff guy so irresistible to ALL these women? Cuz I don’t see it 🤔

❌ Flashlights

❌ Woods/Desert

❌ Slideshow

❌ Autopsy

❌ Evidence Disappears

✔️ Scully Misses It

✔️ Mulder Ditch

❌ Sunflower Seeds

❌ Voiceover

❌ Catch Phrase

❌ Scully is a Medical Doctor

❌ Mulder is Spooky

❌ Scuuullllaaaaayy! Muullllderrrr!

❌ Fox/Dana

❌ Inappropriate Touching (that I am here for)

❌ Casual Scully

❌ Casual Mulder

❌ Trench Coats

✔️ Bad Tie Watch

❌ Glasses Watch

50 States: DC x69 & Vermont (40/50)

Investigate: Apart

Solve Rate: 62% - they actually solve two cases this episode!

✔️ Bechdel Test: Yes, but does it still count if one woman kills the other two she speaks with because they’re both having affairs with her husband 😬

MSR: 🐝🐝🐝

Goriness: 👽👽👽

Creepiness: 👽👽

Humor: 👽👽

Rewatch Thoughts:

SOSS: I LOVE Mulder’s response to the question of whether he has a significant other: not in the widely understood definition of the term. This woman would not understand Mulder and Scully’s relationship - most people wouldn’t. They’re so many things to each other, there’s no one term to encompass their relationship. I doubt Mulder and Scully have even tried to define it. (Also it feels ridiculous at this point but the show was kind of ingenious at playing things for both the shippers and the non-shippers - I’m sure there were viewers who pointed at this same scene and said, see, he denied it, they’re not together - somehow ignoring the expression on Mulder’s face which says I love my partner and we tried to have a baby and we don’t know how to talk about any of this and you wouldn’t get it so I’m not going to explain it to you because I couldn’t but she’s the most significant person in my life and I love her).

Lots of good Mulder stubble this episode.

Without Scully to argue and banter through the case with, it’s just a lot of Mulder shrugging over raven lore.

I appreciate when the mutant or cryptid of the week isn’t killed so that they have to deal with what to do with them, but this multiple personality disorder causing drastic physical changes explanation is just silly.

I’m honestly not sure what to think about the resolution to Scully’s case - the show’s track record with transphobia is not good so I’m not inclined to give it the benefit of the doubt, and I’m not sure what it adds to the story.

Episode-Related Fanfic Recs:

Post-Chimera by @foxmulders - someone’s taken up residence in Mulder’s bed. This one made me smile.

[csnews]

Dolphins Show Self-Recognition Earlier Than Children

James Gorman - Jan. 10, 2018

Humans, chimpanzees, elephants, magpies and bottle-nosed dolphins can recognize themselves in a mirror, according to scientific reports, although as any human past age 50 knows, that first glance in the morning may yield ambiguous results. Not to worry. Scientists are talking about species-wide abilities, not the fact that one’s father or mother makes unpredictable appearances in the looking glass.

Mirror self-recognition, at least after noon, is often taken as a measure of a kind of intelligence and self-awareness, although not all scientists agree. And researchers have wondered not only about which species display this ability, but about when it emerges during early development.

Children start showing signs of self-recognition at about 12 months at the earliest and chimpanzees at two years old. But dolphins, researchers reported Wednesday, start mugging for the mirror as early as seven months, earlier than humans.

Diana Reiss a psychologist at Hunter College, and Rachel Morrison, then a graduate student working with Reiss, studied two young dolphins over three years at the National Aquarium in Baltimore.

Dr. Reiss first reported self-recognition in dolphins in 2001 with Lori Marino, now the head of The Kimmela Center for Animal Advocacy. She and Dr. Morrison, now an assistant professor in the psychology department at the University of North Carolina Pembroke collaborated on the study and published their findings in the journal PLoS One.

Dr. Reiss said the timing of the emergence of self-recognition is significant, because in human children the ability has been tied to other milestones of physical and social development. Since dolphins develop earlier than humans in those areas, the researchers predicted that dolphins should show self-awareness earlier.

Seven months was when Bayley, a female, started showing self-directed behavior, like twirling and taking unusual poses.

Dr. Reiss said dolphins “may put their eye right up against the mirror and look in silence. They may look at the insides of their mouths and wiggle their tongues.”

Foster, the male, was almost 14 months when the study started. He had a particular fondness for turning upside down and blowing bubbles in front of the one-way mirror in the aquarium wall through which the researchers observed and recorded what the dolphins were doing.

The animals also passed a test in which the researchers drew a mark on some part of the dolphin’s body it could not see without a mirror. In this so-called mark test, the animal must notice and pay attention to the mark. Animals with hands point at the mark and may touch it.

The dolphins passed that test at 24 months, which was the earliest researchers were allowed to draw on the young animals. Rules for animal care prohibited the test at an earlier age because of a desire to have the animals develop unimpeded. During testing, the young animals were always with the group of adults they live with, and only approached a one-way mirror in the aquarium wall when they felt like it.

Rules for drawing on human children are apparently less strict, and they pass the mark test at 18-24 months.

Frans de Waal, of Emory University, who studies cognition in apes and other animals and is the author of “Are We Smart Enough to Know How Smart Animals Are?” , said in an email, “Great study.”

Dr. de Waal worked with Dr. Reiss on an earlier study of self-recognition in elephants but was not involved in the dolphin research.

He said the study has value because science needs to go beyond asking whether species display mirror self-recognition (MSR) to ask “whether the emergence of MSR correlates, as it does in humans, with other milestones of development.” Connecting the ability to the rest of development can help researchers “begin to answer the question of what MSR means.”

A small side note that doesn’t have any apparent scientific significance is that Foster, the male, visited the mirror many more times than Bayley, the female.

“He clearly was interested in viewing himself,” Dr. Reiss said.

[wemblingfool]

It's not a test of intelligence, it's a test of self awareness. It's a lot more complex than simply showing an animal a mirror, and most researchers also agree that it's not the only signifier.

The mirror test—sometimes called the mark test, mirror self-recognition (MSR) test, red spot technique, or rouge test—is a behavioral technique developed in 1970 by American psychologist Gordon Gallup Jr. as an attempt to determine whether an animal possesses the ability of visual self-recognition.[1] The MSR test is the traditional method for attempting to measure self-awareness. However, agreement has been reached that animals can be self-aware in ways not measured by the mirror test, such as distinguishing between their own and others' songs and scents.

In the classic MSR test, an animal is anesthetized and then marked (e.g., painted or a sticker attached) on an area of the body the animal cannot normally see. When the animal recovers from the anesthetic, it is given access to a mirror. If the animal then touches or investigates the mark, it is taken as an indication that the animal perceives the reflected image as itself, rather than of another animal.

Very few species have passed the MSR test. Species that have include the great apes (including humans), a single Asiatic elephant, dolphins, orcas, the Eurasian magpie, and the cleaner wrasse. A wide range of species has been reported to fail the test, including several species of monkeys, giant pandas, and sea lions.

I fucking hate the mirror test. The fact that anyone puts any faith in the mirror test as some kind of method to determine the cognition, sapience, self-awareness or anything else in an animal beyond ‘evolved in an environment that contains still water’ is baffling to me. A mirror test tells you nothing else about its cognition! Stop being lazy in science!

[hcafarp]

‘The Cambridge Declaration on Consciousness’

“Convergent evidence indicates that nonhuman animals have the neuroanatomical, neurochemical and neurophysiological substrates of conscious states along with the capacity to exhibit intentional behaviours. Consequently, the weight of evidence indicates that humans are not unique in possessing the neurological substrates that generate consciousness. Nonhuman animals, including all mammals and birds, and many other creatures, including octopuses, also possess these neurological substrates.”

Consciousness is being aware of one’s body, whereas self-awareness is the recognition that you are aware of your awareness.

The mirror self-recognition (MSR) test was developed in 1970 by evolutionary psychologist Gordon Gallup. Esssentially the subject in front of the mirror needs to recognise that the mark on the chin or ear of the reflection is a mark, surreptiously placed, on their own chin or ear and consequently rubs it off. This supposedly proves their sense of self, awareness of their inner ‘I’.

The test, however, is difficult to perform with other species, especially those that do not have hands such as dolphins or elephants.

[baronessblixen]

For the MSR Drabble challenge 😁: 54, 110, 53 xx

Yeah, so… this ain’t no drabble. I’m sorry. I’ll be better (read: shorter) next time. Thank you so much for the prompt lovely anon!

54. Why’s there a pregnancy test in the trash? 110.  You passed out for like an hour. 53. Take offyour shirt.

If only Mulder had come with her.

Scully clings to the plate in her hand and fills it up withlittle homemade snacks. They all look good, she thinks, even if she’s notreally hungry. She just needs a moment to herself, away from prying familymembers she hasn’t seen in years, and the food buffet in the kitchen is thebest distraction she can find. And distraction is all she needs.

Because Mulder is not here.

She had asked him (almost begged him) to come with her todayto the annual Scully family gathering. Will Bill be there? He had mumbled againsther chest, his lips unable to remain still, kissing her, covering everythingthey could reach. Part of her had wanted to lie; no, no, Bill won’t be there. Hismouth on her body, though, it had disarmed her. The other part of her, the oneshe listened to most days, had reminded her that this was Mulder. The man sheloved. She was not going to start lying to him now that they were lovers.

But it doesn’t change anything now: She’s all alone here, plentyof things on her mind, and the looks her family keep throwing her way make itworse. She’s happy, of course she is, to spend time with her brothers – evenCharlie made it this year –, her nephews and nieces, her mother. Seeing hercousins, new life partners, taller children – it’s all great, it’s exciting,but…

She just misses Mulder by her side.

Scully really doesn’t know when it started; the feeling musthave crept up on her these last few years. Clearly, she can manage her lifewithout him. Except. Something is different today. Something she has not foundtime to talk about with him (or think about herself, really). She’s late. She’sreally late. Logic tells her that it’s a crazy notion; she’s barren, she knowsthat, and yet. Yet, here she is. Her eyes wander over to her purse. Hiddeninside somewhere is a pregnancy test. She bought it on a whim on her way hereand now…

If only Mulder were here.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Dana,” one of her cousins apologizesas she bumps into her at the buffet, “Are you all right? You lookpale. Here, have a sausage.” It’s one of those small, cocktail sausagesthat Scully loves so much. Her mother probably bought them for her. Right now thecombination of the slightly wrinkly texture and the strong, fatty smell makesher dizzy.

“Uhm, I’m fine,” she croaks, willing her body torelax; her stomach doesn’t listen, though, “Excuse me.” The plateclatters loudly as her fingers let go of it. Scully grabs her purse and sprintsto the nearest bathroom. She locks the door, her stomach turning and churning,and throws the purse on the ground. Her knees protest loudly as they come in contactwith the cold, hard tiles. There’s no time to think as her stomach lets go ofits contents.

Flashbacks from her cancer explode before her eyes unasked.Scully closes them, screws them shut, and refuses to think about that. There’sa pregnancy test in her purse. As unlikely as it is, she thinks rinsing hermouth, she has to try it. Take a pregnancy test. Her hands tremble as sheunpacks the small, elongated object. Scully knows too well how they work; she’swasted many of them during the failed IVF attempts. Her eyes catch herreflection in the mirror. Her cousin was right: she does look pale. Her cheeksare hollow, her eyes exhausted and glassy, and her skin just plain waxy.

If Mulder were here he’d tell her to just take the test. He’dtell her not to worry, she thinks as she opens her zipper, pulls down herpants. He’d assure her that everything, no matter what, would turn out justfine. Mulder is a believer like that. Scully smiles, forgets that she’s peeingon a stick for a moment, and clings to thoughts of Mulder.

Someone knocks on the door, startling Scully. She can’t stayin here for another five minutes. Quickly, she wraps the test up in toiletpaper and carefully puts in her purse. She stuffs the boxing into the smalltrash can, not even thinking about it. She flushes the toilet, washes her handsand checks her face again. When she unlocks the door, she’s looking straightinto her mother’s eyes.

“Dana, there you are. Honey, what’s the matter? You’renot sick, are you?” Of course there’s no fooling her mother.

“I’m fine, mom.”

“How about you lie down for a bit?” Gently, hermother pushes her into the direction of one of the bedrooms.  

“I’m fine, really.”

“Just relax a bit,” her mother ignores her,“Our family can be quite exhausting.” She chuckles and Scully can’tdo anything but listen to her mother. She sits on the bed, still clinging toher purse, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll make sure no one bothers you.Get some rest.” Her mother kisses her cheek and Scully feels tears dwellup in her eyes. I might be pregnant, mom. The words, however, get twisted inher tongue. So she simply nods, keeps the tears at bay, and remains still untilthe door softly clicks shut. The tears fall silently now as Scully lies down,clutching her purse, and quickly, without warning, falls asleep.

Even if she had been awake, behind the closed door she wouldhave not heard her mother exclaim loudly: “Why’s there a pregnancy test inthe trash?”

“Hey you.”  

“Hmmm.”

“Wakey wakey.” Mulder chuckles next to her, hisbreath tickling her cheek. Mulder? She must be dreaming. Without opening hereyes, her lips curl upwards into a warm smile. A soft caress on her cheek andshe sighs. What a wonderful dream, she decides.

“I miss you, Mulder.” She mumbles, caught betweensleeping and waking.

“I’m right here. All you need to do is open youreyes.”

“Hmm?” Scully opens one eye, sees a blurry versionof what could be Mulder, and opens the second one. “Take off yourshirt.” She demands and he does as he’s told. Scully traces the scar onhis shoulder, the one she put there, and yes, this is real, she decides. It’sreally him.

“Mulder, what are you doing here?” The words feellike lead on her tongue and she swallows. Her mouth is much too dry. Mulder, asif reading her mind, hands her a glass of water.

“I thought you might want me here after all.”There’s a shy smile playing on his face, slightly tinged with shadows of guilt.

“Hm, always. But why? Why now? I don’t even know whattime it is.” She sits up in bed with some difficulty as Mulder puts hisshirt back on.

“Your mom said you passed out for like an hour.”

“Oh my god.” An hour. The pregnancy test. Thepurse is pushed aside and she stares at it now. She fell asleep before shecould even think about any of it. And now Mulder is here. She must have dreamedhim here. He’d probably love to hear her say - even think - these words.

“Are you all right? Your mother said you weren’tfeeling well.” Mulder is rubbing her back and suddenly she understands.

“She called you.” She states and Mulder nodscarefully.

“She was worried about you and she thought that uhm,maybe I should be here. Is there anything to worry about, Scully?”

“No,” she answers quickly,“ well,maybe.” She admits, biting her lip, feeling like the purse is now staringat her. Daring her to look at the test.

“Scully? You’re really scaring me here.”

“I’m sorry, Mulder, “she puts her hand on hisstubbly cheek, "It’s just… I don’t really know how to say this. We’venever talked about it before and now- I don’t know how to say it.”

“Scully, you can tell me anything. You know that.”She nods without looking at him.

“I wanted you here all day for this,” she reachesfor her purse, “So I guess it’s a good thing I fell asleep.” Scullychuckles and immediately quiets when she catches Mulder’s confused look.

“It’s something we haven’t really talked about. Not…not like this anyway,” his face reminds her that she’s not making anysense, “Maybe it’s all a moot point anyway.” She takes a deep breath,reaches into her purse and takes out the toilet paper wrapped bundle. Glancingat it, she offers it to Mulder instead.

“Uhm, thank you?” He picks it apart layer by crumpledup layer. For a moment he stares at the stick then his face lifts up to meethers. His lips are opened slightly, ready to say something, but there are nowords.

“Is that…”

“A pregnancy test.”

“I… Scully, I thought you… I thought. It wasn’t theIVF, I mean that was, uhm… it really wasn’t the IVF, was it?” Mulder stillholds the test in both hands, stares at it like it’s made of gold.

“What does it say?” Her voice quivers, sherealizes, and she is thankful that this time she’s not alone.

“You don’t know?” Mulder’s eyes give nothing awaybut his surprise.

“No, I fell asleep before the time was up. What does itsay? Do I want to know?”

“Oh, I think you want to know.” He grins, holdingup the stick with shaky hands, showing her the impossible.

She’s pregnant.