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#but had to cut it
intuitive-revelations · 4 months
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FLUXES [Celestis: Engineered Participants / Technologies] Example: "DOCTOR, The"
[Image description, courtesy of @quailfence: a series of pictures of text, alternated with screencaps and gifs from Doctor Who.
1: Text: Fluxes: [Celestis: Engineered Participants/Technology] Individuals transposed backwards in time but not too far in space, using a very high chaotic limiter setting and tied to their home period by a thread of biodata
2: The Eleventh Doctor stands in the future corpse of his TARDIS, looking and a pulsing stream of light that has replaced the console. He says, "That is the scar tissue of my journey through the universe. My path through time and space."
3: Text: He raised a finger. 'Look. There.
Now she could just make out the thread in the moonlight. It was just a faint reflection, maybe a foot or two long, about a metre off the ground. A taut strand of spiderweb hanging in the air, not attached to anything.
'What is it?' Fitz asked.
'It's only partially rotated into three dimensions,' he said. He pushed his finger right through the glimmering line, without affecting it. 'That's why it looks one- or two-dimensional. The rest is still perpendicular to what we can see - woven into higher space, or the time vortex…'
'Yes,' said Fitz, 'but what is it?' 'It's what your friend mistook for a ley line.' The Doctor was scuttling around the silver thread, peering at it from every angle, getting more and more agitated. 'It's part of the fabric of space-time itself. What DNA is to your genetic code, this stuff is to biodata. And it's all just exposed here now. Personality, history, memory, perception, all vulnerable…'
'I'm going to have to ask you again, aren't I?' said Fitz.
The Doctor said, 'It's me.'
4: The Fourteenth and Fifteenth doctors in the TARDIS. 14: "But you're fine?" 15: "I'm fine, because you fixed yourself. We're Time Lords, we're doing rehab out of order."
5: Text: The subject is turned loose in his or her own history, and the limiter setting allows tiny actions taken by the future version to have considerable effects on the past version. The biodata link then transfers these changes to the future version, which alters it, and thus alters the changes made to the past version. Therefore, the individual's history is kept constantly in flux.
6: The Fugitive Doctor says, "Let me take it from the top: Hello, I'm the Doctor."
7: Text: Let me finish. Think back to that time when you went to see your previous selves.
8: Ten, Eleven, and War talk to each other. Ten: "You're not actually suggesting that we change our own personal history?" Eleven: "We change history all the time. I'm suggesting far worse."
9: Text: 'Maybe there's no one home on Gallifrey,' said the boy softly. There was just the one of him.
The Doctor looked at him, cupping the small white cube in his hands. The boy said, Maybe they all left. Or maybe the whole planet's being destroyed, and undestroyed, and destroyed, and you just caught them at the wrong moment.
10: The TARDIS by the ruins of Gallifrey
11: Text: 'It's impossible,' said the Doctor. 'It's impossible for my people. Our past is unreachable. What's written can't be unwritten.'
'Who said your history can't change?'
Another boy answered, 'Someone from his history.'
And another: 'Maybe it's the second-biggest lie in Time Lord history.'
12: Dhawan!Master tells Thirteen, "You are the Timeless Child."
13: Thitreen stares at a ruined house. Swarm whispers in her ear and tells her, "All the memories you've lost, all the people you've been. It's all in there, contained within that house."
14: Text: And it was like the Doctor's home. As if his ship understood the loss of the House and had compensated to fill the emptiness. Shadowy corridors, alcoves and stairways, a secret at every turn. Like being in the Doctor's head. Like his life, for that matter, the details of which were strewn like flotsam across the floor.
15: Text: 'Sweet,' said the little boy. 'That's my favourite of your origin stories, too.'
The Doctor opened his eyes. He had been laughing, he realised, he felt that lightness in himself. The boys had all moved away, behind him, leaving him facing the empty dark of the warehouse.
'What do you mean?' he asked. His voice sounded very small.
'Is this the version where they banned all mention of his name, and yours, for consorting with aliens? Or the one where he got every record of himself deleted from the files?'
'Feel free to believe either of them,' snapped the Doctor, 'or both of them, or neither of them. If you're curious about my past, I want there to be as many wrong answers as possible.'
16: The Eighth Doctor tells someone, "I'm half human. On my mother's side."
17: Text: 'Well he's a hybrid, you know that. A Gallifreyan not born of Gallifreyan, the one who unites the two races and brings good old human niceness into their alien society. Aliens need that, y'know.'
'A human hybrid? She saw the contempt in his curling lip. 'Pseudoscientific nonsense. There's no evidence,' he repeated.
'He's allowed to be different. He's got a prophecy and everything.'
18: Lady Me says, "By your own reasoning, why couldn't the Hybrid be half Time Lord, half human?"
19: Text: Someone giggled. 'Let's play pin the tale on the donkey.'
'Maybe you didn't use to have a father.'
'Maybe you're living in the middle of a time war. Maybe there's an Enemy out there -'
The Doctor shouted, 'I'm not listening!'
'- who's rewriting you when you're not looking!'
'Maybe you weren't always half human.'
'But now you've become always half human.' 'Maybe you weren't always a Time Lord.'
But now you've always been a Time Lord.'
'Maybe you originally came from some planet in the forty-ninth century. Fleeing from the Enemy who'd overrun your home -'
'I said I'm not listening! Laa laa laa laa laa -'
'- and you've just been written and rewritten and overwritten, ever since.'
'Pin the tale!'
'How d'you know it's not true?'
'How could you know it's not true?'
The voices crowded in. 'How would you know, huh?'
'How would you know?'
'How would 'How would you 'How 'How would you know? you know? you know? know?'
'Why would I care?' shouted the Doctor.
The boy fell silent.
20: Lady Me asks, "Am I right? Is it true?" Twelve replies, "Does it matter?"
21: Text: However, the one group from the Homeworld which has excelled at flux-engineering is the Celestis.
22: Two asks the Time Lords, "Now then… what about me?"
23: Tecteun tells Thirteen, "Which is ehy we engineered the Fluyx: Shut the universe down and you within it."
24: Text: Even Mictlan itself can be considered a kind of enormous flux, an endlessly-shifting realm so cortosive to the rest of history that its heartland has to be kept on the outer skin of the universe
24: The Fourteenth Doctor tells Donna, "I invoked a supersition, at the edge of the universe, where the walls are thin and everything is possible."
25: The space station from Wild Blue Yonder
26: Text: There are suggestions of a stable middle-ground between the two fates, in which the physical matter of the flux is lost but the meaning of the subject/ victim is retained, a series of memetic connections with no flesh to support it. Yet this entity exists only on a purely theoretical level, relying on the perceptions of others to survive at all.
27: The Twelfth Doctor walks up to the TARDIS console. He says, "Can't wait to hear what I say." Glancing at the viewer, he adds, "I'm noting without an audience."
28: Text: You know what Sam represents. If a tree falls in a forest and no one's there to hear it, does it make a sound? Stop me if I'm getting too abstract here, but if a Time Lord saves the world and nobody witnesses him doing it, does history care? She's your witness. The thing you need to make you whole.
29: The First Doctor looks at the viewer and says, "Incidentally, a Happy Christmas to all of you at home!" End description.]
[Plain text: Fluxes [Celestis: Engineered Participants / Technologies] Example: "Doctor, The". End plain text.]
@dw-described
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 16 days
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Knowledge Revenge.
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oviraptoridae · 7 months
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here's what ur gonna do. ur gonna get a plain tshirt from anywhere. from ur closet or ur dad or the thrift store or whatever. then ur gonna go to the dollar store or whatever equivalent u have in ur country. ur gonna get fabric paint and a sponge. ur gonna go home and take a cereal box or a cover of a magazine or something similar. ur gonna draw a design on it [or words. or print out a picture and trace it onto the cardstock) and cut out a stencil. then ur gonna use the sponge to dab the paint onto the shirt using the stencil. ur gonna do that thinly in 2-3 coats until it's opaque but not too stiff. then ur gonna let it dry for 24 hours. ur gonna cover that shirt with a thin towel and press an iron against the design for 30 seconds. then ur gonna wash it & wear it. got it?
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pseudospectre · 7 months
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So it turns out you can just buy old x-rays off ebay
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inkskinned · 1 year
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the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.
capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.
now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.
and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.
and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.
and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".
it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"
#this was much longer i had to cut it down for legibility#but i do want to say i am aware this post doesnt touch on human rights violations as a result of fast fashion#that is because it deserves its own post with a completely different tone#i am an environmental educator#so that's what i know the most about. it wouldn't be appropriate of me to mention off-hand the real and legitimate suffering#that people are going through#without doing my research and providing real ways to help#this is a vent post about a thing i'm watching happen; not a call to action. it would be INCREDIBLY demeaning#to all those affected by the fast fashion industry to pretend that a post like this could speak to their suffering#unfortunately one of the horrible things about latestage capitalism as an activist is that SO many things are linked to this#and i WANT to talk about all of them but it would be a book in its own right. in fact there ARE books about each level of this#and i encourage you to seek them out and read them!!! i am not an expert on that i am just a person on tumblr doing my favorite activity#(complaining)#and it's like - this is the individual versus the industry problem again right because im blaming myself#for being an expert on environmental disaster (which is fucking important) but not knowing EVERYTHING about fast fashion#i'm blaming myself for not covering the many layers of this incredibly complicated problem im pointing out#rather than being like. yeah so actually the fault here lies with the billion dollar industries actually.#my failure to be able to condense an incredibly immense problem that is BOOK-LENGTH into a single text post that i post for free#is not in ANY fucking way the same amount of harm as. you know. the ACTUAL COMPANIES doing this ACTUAL THING for ACTUAL MONEY.#anyway im gonna go donate money while i'm thinking about it. maybe you can too. we can both just agree - well i fuckin tried didn't i#which is more than their CEOs can say
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payasita · 3 months
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God's Mouthpiece (Echo + Narcissus)
silent protagonists, yknow
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floweroflaurelin · 11 days
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How do you want to do this?
Goodbye, Faithful Caregiver.
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bamsara · 25 days
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The Rehabilitation of Death
Chapter 17: Drunken Gods
On this day, The Lamb declares a holy day. For a wedding, for a feast, and for a festival to celebrate the grand harvest.
Despite his initial reservations (and after a particularly horrid nightmare) Narinder decides to attend, if just to please the Lamb well enough that they'd leave him well enough alone after. That's the only reason, surely.
With followers intoxicated, the cult becomes a ground of wild party, and Gods are not immune to the temptation of overindulgence.
There's music, fighting, flirting, more fighting. There are shenanigans all evening; including but not limited to: uncomfortable socialization, reminiscing on one's past, impulsive decisions of the close-proximity sort, hide-and-seek games, and sparring with drunken, uncontrollable bloodlust that may or may not lead to a near-mental snap with eldritch power when you remember something you weren't supposed to.
Read Tags/Notes for Warnings. Chapter Wordcount: 25,674
Happy Reading!
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pygmypouter · 9 months
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This place is a message... and part of a system of messages... pay attention to it!
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t00thpasteface · 2 years
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whenever they invent a new kind of guy the first place they send 'em is the cash register of a food service employee
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potatoeofwisdom · 3 months
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Donatello for your thoughts
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starflungwaddledee · 4 months
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alas, it seems the christmas mystery shall remain unsolved 🎁 happy holidays!
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onshrike · 5 months
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A 5 panel comic featuring Sonic the Hedgehog and Shadow the Hedgehog. The comic has an overall blue-green hue.
Panel 1: Sonic, looking scuffed up, winks and salutes while saying "Not the assist I was expecting, but thanks Shadow!"
Panel 2: Shadow looks downwards.
Panel 3: A closeup of Sonic's hands. He's cradling one hand, unable to extend two of his fingers. Sonic says: "Cutting it close though. Heheh."
Panel 4: Shadow looks to the side, crossing his arms. Shadow says: "...You can't afford to get sloppy, hedgehog."
Panel 5: A faraway shot of Sonic and Shadow standing in front of a large busted Roller Badnik.
Sonic is still cradling his hand and says, "...You keep showing up lately. It almost makes me think you're worried about me!"
Shadow turns to walk away, saying "You're fine, so I'm leaving."
Aside dialogue reads: Shadow, "Ice that later." Sonic, "Pft."
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canisalbus · 6 months
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hello! i've written a short little machete fic, and i wanted to share it with you as thanks for all the incredible art and generous question-answering you've been doing these last few months. i hope that if you give it a look, you enjoy it. <3 keep up all your amazing work! archiveofourown [.] org / works / 50945128
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✦ A Voi ✦
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bluerosefox · 8 days
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GHOSTS WITH HEARTBEATS
When Jason had been going to Gotham Academy, he had (for a good reputation for the media and to help him catch up on his penmanship, remember he had been on the streets and dropped out of school before getting picked up by Bruce for a while) signed up for a penpal project for 'less privileged people' to write to.
(Although Jason was annoyed the penpal project stayed within the states and only selected a middle of nowhere town, he knew the Richie Rich Elites would never subjugate their 'Heirs' to actual kids in need of learning how to read and write)
But Jason didn't mind his penpal.
Danny Fenton was a riot to talk, err write to in all honestly.
From his dry punny humor (and boy can he give even Dick a run for his money in the pun department but hey using some of them actually got Dick to warm up to him a few missions ago) and death jokes so many death jokes, to his nerdy love for space Jason enjoyed writing to Danny.
Even the short stories he would write about a ghost kid protecting a small town from other ghosts was interesting to read. He really liked the different kinds of ghosts there could be. Granted some seemed very OP like that Clockwork dude.
Jason liked writing to Danny, and even after the penpal project was over they had plans to keep sending letters, maybe even exchange numbers soon...
But then he died by the hands of the Joker.
The letters leaving Wayne Manor may had decreased but the letters being sent never did or at least until a few years ago.
Then Jason somehow returned to the land of the living.
Got taken by the LoA, tossed in the green waters and turned into their Pit Raged weapon for a while before leaving them behind and setting out for his revenge against the Joker and to force B's hand.
And becoming a Crime Boss for a while too. Can't forget that.
Point being with all this going on, the old warm memories of exchanging letters with Danny Fenton was pushed into the back of his mind and forgotten about for a while.
It isn't until one afternoon at Wayne Manor that while roughhousing with Dick, who had Jason in a brotherly headlock as they walked down a hall to one of the sitting rooms, that while Jason had slipped out of Dick's hold had stumbled into a hallway desk that had a few things on the top of it, one of the things being a small box that tumbled off when Jason hit it.
The box lid opened and out of it spilled out a good number of letters.
"Shiii-p, dang it Dick!" Jason said when he looked at the mess he accidentally made and stopped himself from swearing, the place might be named Wayne Manor but everyone knew this was Alfie's domain and no swearing was a rule within his halls.
Dick only laughed and teased only in a way a sibling can do "Hey not my fault your as big as a tank Jaybird! We should get you some caution signals if you keep bumping into things!"
Jason flipped him his favorite finger, thankfully Alfred only knew when they swore thus it did not summon him, and bent down to the letters.
His hands froze when he recognized the hand writing and the address it was sent from.
"From: Danny Fent Nightingale
Amity Park, IL"
To: Jason Todd-Wayne
Gotham City, NJ.
Wayne Manor"
And when Jason opened the letter. He really wasn't expecting what was written inside.
"Jason.
I'm finally leaving Amity Park. I can't be there anymore, not after everything. I'm too tired, and emotionally hurt. Everything is just to much. And I can't keep doing this to myself. My parents still can’t understand there is nothing ‘wrong’ with me or why I refuse to let them take care of Ellie, I refuse to let her live the way Jazz and I did, Jazz has to much on her plate already with her own life and college but she’s been hounding me to reach out to mom and dad, Sam refuses to listen to me when I tell her I want to be more than ‘Phantom’ in Amity Park, and Tucker is so busy trying to get into a good college and job we barely have time to talk nowadays. And don’t get me started on Vlad, that fruitloop’s been breathing down my neck since Ellie’s deaging.
Despite how much of a hellhole you like to call it, I think Gotham might be my, no mine and Ellie’s best bet of living some kind of life, especially now since the whole deaging she had to go through, she needs an ectoplasm rich city as well and since she has no actual papers because she was my clone and I remember you saying Gotham has people who can create new identities and-
I’m rambling again, to letter you again. I really need to stop it.
I can’t keep pretending you’re going to read these.
I know you’ll never read these. You’re gone. I can’t even find you in the Realms no matter where I look.
I’m sorry. For using you as, well, a way to vent my life for last couple of years. I shouldn’t had done it but it helped me.
Believing my friend was still alive and getting my letters I mean.
Again I’m sorry.
This will be my last letter to your ghost, pun unintended.
Goodbye Jason. Wish us luck in your city.
-Danny Fen-Nightingale...."
The sent date on the letter was roughly eight years ago.
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strawbie-doodle · 1 month
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havent drawn all of them in a WHILE ✸
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