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lullabyes22-blog · 2 months ago

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Snippet - Fate vs. Choice - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Jinx has a decision, and a deadline.

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Six o’ clock. Late evening.

The Cathedral of Progress.

Lanterns burned in their iron-scrolled brackets; the shadows cut flayed patterns on the granite walls. In the nave, the acolytes chanted, cloaked and cowled. In their palms, the lit tapers cast long, lean shadows across the stone floors. Their voices were a mechanized hymn: harmonized down to the smallest atom vibrating in the air. There was no music riding the currents. Only silence, draping a veil of total stillness over the congregation. Perhaps even eternal damnation, to those who dared trespass.

Jinx didn't give a ripe toot about damnation. She'd already fallen from grace: the moment she'd set a wind-up monkey loose to rescue her family, and jinxed them instead. Her own jinx, since that fateful night, was an inevitability, and a long time coming.

Now, at nineteen, she was the living, breathing epitome of it.

The harsh sweetness of coffee cut through the chants. Jinx cracked an eyelid open; for one long giddy second, the world spun in a sickening circle.

Then it righted itself. Or Viktor did: a cool hand clasping hers.

“Wake up, Jinx.”

Her eyes fluttered open. She lay, starfished in an indolent sprawl, in sweetgrass that swayed as if under an invisible caress. The aroma of lilies was ascendant; twilight had deepened their perfume. The night-garden was tucked into the courtyard at the heart of the Cathedral, abutted by a small cemetery of granite.

Under the surreal refractions of a stained-glass dome, it was a wonderland: teeming with long-dead saints, and the perfumes of late-blooming flowers, all a-glow in holy light. Upon closer scrutiny, the holiness inverted into the uncanny. Every plant, aspirating beneath the multicolored rays, was revealed to hold an almost numerical symmetry: logarithmic spirals of orchids, geometrically-profound petunias, grid-patterns of clovers all fractaling in golden ratios.

As if every organism—from soil grain to leaf tip—had coalesced into life under the touch of a divine hand. Or a very obsessive mathematician.

Or—both.

Then there was the tree.

It was a prehistoric sycamore of darkling wood: five times the height of the average Piltovan oculus; three times as broad across. The branches fanned out into spokes as big as a ferris wheel. The ends of each spathe, splayed wildly under the skylight, erupted into iridescent blooms. They were nearly gem-like in their purity: their crystalline petals glowing in colors of multicolored amethyst, chrysoprase, quartz, topaz, ruby. The canopy spread over the entire garden; the roots curled deep into the bedrock.

By nightfall, it gave off an eerie luminescence: bathing the garden in an ephemeral glow. By daylight, it cast a rainbow halo across the grounds. Its fragrance changed constantly: one minute pungent as wormwood, the next citrusy as lemon zest, another woody as cardamomh. Insects swarmed about its roots; butterflies flocked its boughs. Some even swore they'd spotted faeries dancing in rings beneath its shadow.

The hallucinogenic effects were, by Viktor's accounts, an ur-example of magicoreality: an object, space, or phenomenon that is created through the combined imagination of multiple entities. It was real, because they believed it real. And vice versa.

Like a mobius strip blossoming into being.

Viktor's acolytes had transplanted the tree—roots to stem—from Singed subterranean laboratory. Something in the soil of the Cathedral's grounds nourished it with unique potency: the tree flourished where naysayers, Silco chief among them, predicted it would rot. By the first month, it'd become the centerpiece around which every botanical beauty revolved. By the sixth, it was the brilliant heart of a preternatural paradise: creepers, ferns, lilies, ivies, marigolds, all erupting in a palette of purest life.

By the tenth?

The tree was worshipped as an entity unto itself. It dominated the cultists' rhetoric; it haunted their reveries. It was rumored that Janna herself had breathed life into its veins, rescuing it from the brink of collapse. Pilgrims from the depths below, voyeurs from the heights above, arrived in droves to seek the sheltering boughs as if for the same restorative breath.

And under those twirling branches?

They were never the same again.

Formerly pallid patients were rumored to stagger from their sickbeds, sit beneath the blossoms in solemn ceremony, then unfold from their atavistic comas miraculously reborn. Like larvae metamorphosing into butterflies.

From devolution to evolution.

But though the tree restored a measure of life to its devotees, its own was an hourglass suspended between grains. The fruits hanging off its branches evoked a spectrum of incandescent sea-shells washed by whitecaps onto arid shores. They were entirely inedible; ash and air. And as soon as they fell, their shells fossilized: petrifying into stone-crusted facets within minutes of detachment, before dissolving into inert dust.

It was the tree's perpetual paradox: the promise of life, forever beyond reach. And death, ever-encroaching at its heels.

In its shadow, Viktor, the most devoted disciple of one, held court weekly with the most notorious apostate of the other.

"Wake up, Jinx."

Viktor's hand, freed from its tight leather glove, squeezed hers. His fingers, long and thin, held a delicate strength: there were calluses, velvety, at the tips, and a roughness along the heel. A scientist's hands, evolved into a healer's. Tonight, Jinx saw ink smudges on the knuckles. There was also a tiny nick, from wielding a scalpel during the evening's surgery on a young boy's ruptured appendix.

The boy was safe. Tucked into a cot at the infirmary, with the others under Viktor's care: each dosed with enough poppy-milk to see them through the night. The boy's mother, one of the dozen souls who'd flocked to the Cathedral seeking the Machine Herald's aid, had wept at her son's restoration, kissing the hem of Viktor's robe in a show of gratitude.

It was a scene that Jinx had witnessed, over and over again, during her visits. And it never failed to unsettle.

Devotion, undiluted, had that effect. Especially when it was devoid of desire.

Daily, scores of souls passed in and out of the Cathedral. Each brought with them a problem, a poison, a plea. Each, Viktor addressed in their turn: salving their sores, purging their pustules, and bestowing, with a steady hand and a soft voice, his personal brand of salvation.

He never charged for his chem-modifications. Even the most complex, which took months to design, were given for free.

His payment, his only payment, was everything.

From the start, he’d made plain that his services were offered on a strictly non-partisan basis, and would cease immediately should any faction in Zaun attempt to co-opt his work. Except that was a lie. Everyone knew, in Zaun's hierarchical honeycomb, Viktor had no love for politics. But he was fiercely political: his sacrifices, solely and exclusively, were for the elevation of Zaun's future.

It was his singular obsession: the evolution of the present into an age of transcendence, and the eradication of the past into obscurity.

Viktor hated the past. A past that’d left him broken, disfigured, discarded: an imperfect specimen, unworthy of survival.

The same past, which had yet forged him.

And Jinx, his muse and mirror, who'd been reborn in its bloodshed.

"Jinx," Viktor repeated. "Wake up."

His hand squeezed hers, then let go. A moment later, a metal cup was pressed into her grasp.

The warmth radiated; Jinx's flesh drank it up. The coffee gave off its curls of aromatic steam: a nutty blend of chicory root, black chocolate liqueur, and the sweet whiff of anise.

Diluted, as always, with sweetmilk.

Viktor, his own cup balanced precariously between two fingertips, reclined with an easy elegance in the grass. His staff lay within arm's reach: the undying habit of a boy whose mind is always five steps ahead, but whose body is forever falling behind. Everywhere, leather-bound books were scattered, some facedown with cracked spines, others bristling with raven's feathers that doubled as bookmarks. An inkwell glittered, half-empty, on a stack of maps scribbled with notes.

In this garden, Vitya was ever-studying, ever-searching. Never satisfied with the knowledge already in hand, and the miracles already in motion.

Something he and Jinx shared in common.

Reclining on elbow, Viktor sipped from his cup with the other hand. Then he plucked a notebook from the pile, stirred through its pages with a fingertip, and resumed writing with his cockatrice quill: a rapid series of symbols that, unfurling, imprinted themselves in a secret pocket of Jinx's brain, and the darkest recesses of her heart.

Destiny: charted beyond the stars.

Jinx sat up, knees tucked against her chest, and drank from her cup. The flavor was just as it should be: bitter chased by sweet, complexity balanced by simplicity.

Viktor's handwork: the paradox distilled into metaphor.

Just like the garden, where every blade of grass grew exactly the same height, and every flower, in its arrangement, was a repetition into infinity.

Sipping, Jinx's eyes flicked from bloom to bloom. Then, she noticed:

A single blossom out of place.

A lone iris, curling its way from between the tree's roots. It was sly as an intruder, bright as a fallen star.

The same hue as Powder's wishful blue eyes.

Jinx's lips curled. Tentatively, she reached out. Her fingers traced the blossoming petals. They were silky, smooth. Almost too flawless to be real.

"Is this place," she whispered, "alive?"

It was only half-joking. During each visit, she could never escape the sense that the garden—multiform, deviant—was suffused with a spiritual awareness sister to sentience. And the tree, gathering them both under its protective penumbra, was rooted right to the crux of Zaun's stony heart.

"Not exactly," Viktor replied, without looking up from his notes. "Not by our reckoning. More a kind of... meta-life."

"Meta-life?"

Viktor, dipping the quill in its inkwell, shrugged.

"This tree is but a reflection—an iteration—of something larger-than-life. Something of a piece with the city's vital flow. A conduit of sorts."

"Like, what? A portal?"

"Perhaps," he said, and absently rested a palm on his leg, the site of his first augments. "Or perhaps a lens. Something which reflects, refracts, magnifies. An imperfect metaphor."

"Serpent's tongue. Apple's flesh. Devil's promise."

"Precisely. A system of shorthand within which meaning can be imparted, and context given."

Jinx's eyes lingered on the flower: a star's winking light, buried under layers of soil.

"What's the point, though?" she wondered. "I mean, yeah, I get it: a symbol's powerful. But if you're trying to forget the past—"

"Forgetting is not the same as erasing," Viktor corrected, patiently. "And what good is a symbol, Jinx, if no one knows what it stands for?"

Double-edged question and double-pronged answer: classic Viktor.

Sighing, Jinx returned to her cup. The coffee, cooled, had lost its bite. She drained it anyway, then let the cup rest in her lap. Her eyes, half-lidded, took in her companion.

He was still garbed for his duties: a mauve linen robe with a high collar, its sleeves rolled up, the hem draping past his knees. It was a garment, once, meant to conceal. Now, it served a purpose quite the opposite. Its folds bared the armature that held Viktor together: once emaciated, now elegantly streamlined beneath a segmented exoskeleton of synth-plates. His bad leg, encased in gleaming obsidian augments, now held the flexile precision of muscle, and the springing strength of a steel cable.

The fusion was seamless: the stuff of futuristic fairytale. When he moved, it was with an almost regal glide. As if, somewhere in the gaunt structure of Viktor's frame, there was an ancient drop of royalty, finally emerging from its hardscrabble shell in a blend of princely asceticism and common-born resilience.

Under the tree's canopy, Viktor's pallor was offset by his deep-hued robes. The effect wasn't peaky so much as pearlescent. His untidy curls tumbled freshly-glossed along his shoulders: the barest delineations of a beard teased the contours of his jawline. The sum total was neither masculine nor feminine. Only androgynous; ethereal.

Transcendent as stardust.

The rim's of Jinx's eyes burned. Why was it that even at their closest, Viktor seemed as if he was dissolving into astral orbit, a beautiful moon drifting farther from reach?

And why did Jinx feel herself hurtling on an opposing trajectory: crashing to earth with fatal velocity?

The wind, still unseen, sawed gently through the tree's branches. Its blossoms whispered: the susurration of silk sheets, or a lover's sigh. Jinx found it fitting that, though the Cathedral of Progress was, technically, the building's newly-christened designation, ordinary Fissurefolk referred to it, unofficially, by a different epithet.

The Resurrection Root. The Everbloom. The Glass Garden.

And the most popular—

Der Wunschbaum.

Ur-Nox for Wishing Tree.

Except Ur-Nox was a double-edged sword. It was the language of the ancients; Mages and Guardians who'd lived in the time before Zaun had ever been. Their language, therefore, was the language of enchantment: one half lofty, the other half sinister. Wish, for instance, was rooted in the word Wunschet: to want. To desire beyond the bounds of reality.

But it was also rooted in Wählen: to choose.

A wish could be a heart's deepest desire unlocked. Or it could be a will to power: to take what you want, no matter the cost.

And me? Jinx wondered. What do I want?

And what will I give to seize it—or throw it away?

At her silence, Viktor stopped scribbling. His eyes, deep-gold, met hers.

"All right, Jinx?"

"Y-Yeah."

"You should wake up."

"Don't wanna."

"No?" Scritch-scritch went the pen, runes blossoming in its wake. Distantly, Jinx heard the acolytes singing, a ghostly engine of harmony. And—could it be?—Sparky's yips, cutting through the choir: a dissonant counterpoint. The greedy mutt, somewhere, was begging for treats. "If you do not wake, how will your Name Day be celebrated?"

"Multitasking's a thing. I've always been a pro."

"You are terrible at multitasking."

"Am not!"

"You fell asleep during the surgery."

"You told me not to interrupt. So I closed my eyes. But I was listening. I always listen."

"You were drooling." And, closing the notebook with the coordinates plotted inside, he set it down. In a single graceful movement, he'd shifted closer. Close enough to touch his thumb against the corner of her lips, where a grin had stolen in. Viktor's own lips, palely-parted, were a few inches away. "You look like a child when you sleep. Peaceful. It is... rare."

"I was havin' a sweet dream."

"Oh? Tell me."

"A night full of stars. Wishes a-popping like fishes. And a beautiful boy." Her voice, at half-octave, came breathless. Always, his proximity did that to her: an unravelling of everything she held dear about herself. Like deja vu—except more desolate. Dying, when you longed to be reborn. "Except he won't wish me a Happy Name Day. He won't even gimme a kiss."

At that, Viktor smiled: a slow, secret curl that was yet the saddest expression in the world.

"Perhaps," he murmured, "he is a fool."

"Yeah?"

"And a coward." The thumb, tracing the full jut of her bottom-lip, was cool as snowfall, and as chaste. "Because he knows, deep in his heart, that you are still a child. The child he sees when you sleep. And because, despite whatever tradition or legality declares, you are not yet a woman. Certainly, not the woman who, once she comes into herself, will outrace him, and his grand designs, and fly off on wings of stardust."

"You talkin' about Silco?" Jinx quipped. "'Cause, no offense, but he's no competition. I can outrun that fossil anytime."

The levity fell flat. Viktor's golden eyes, augmented to their depths, lost their imperceptible luster. A moment later, his hand retreated, as if it'd never been.

"I know," he said, "that this is only an interlude."

"You think so?" Jinx, impulsively, caught the hem of his sleeve. "Pretty harsh frame to put 'round forever."

"Forever means little in a cosmos of infinite permutations."

"Not so long as we're still us, right?"

"A conundrum in itself." He didn't withdraw, exactly. Only laid his fingertips over hers, knotted into his sleeve. "Are our mirrored selves—in the physical, in the quantum—so very different at their crux? Is one less worthy, less agentic, than the other? Or are they simply two sides of the same coin, flipped endlessly, until the universe collapses on itself."

"Yikes. Talk about buzzkill."

"I am not a man for platitudes, Jinx." The smile, sadder, stayed on the surface. "Not will I feed you falsehoods, in hopes that the future may hold more than the present."

"So you say."

"So I mean." And, surprising her, he caught her hand in both his own: a tender clasp. "We've pledged our spirits as one. We've plotted our course. Escape velocity is inevitable. But the path ahead will not be easy. Not for either of us. If anything, it will be harder, given what we must renounce to see the destination through. And I—I cannot be sure—"

A crack in his faultless equilibrium. In turn, Jinx felt her own fragile serenity evaporate.

"Sure of what, Viktor?" she said, with quiet ferocity. "That I'll change my mind halfway? Chicken out before the starting gun goes off? Let Silco dictate my choices, like I've always done?"

"No, Jinx, no."

He shook his head; the curls danced, a ribboning cascade of cornsilk. There were silver streaks beginning to thread at the temples. Thirty-three, and a full-grown man where Ekko was still shedding the last vestiges of boyhood. But moments like this, it struck Jinx that Viktor was, at his core, even younger than Ekko. Two orphans prematurely thrust into roles before their time: the savior leading his flock to the promised land, and the savant saving souls that the world would sooner crush underfoot.

But both, in their hearts, still children. Still seeing Jinx, and what she'd become. But never, ever seeing her for who she was: the girl, not the legend.

The woman, not the jinx.

"Never that, Jinx," Viktor said. "Never would I think so little of you."

"...But?"

"It's been difficult, these past months, for us to speak frankly."

"Vitya," Jinx said, a touch exasperated. "We're speaking now. Aren't we?"

"We are." A squeeze, gentle, on her fingers. "At risk on both ends. But I have never once doubted your commitment. Your passion far exceeds mine; far exceeds whatever designs I may conjure. The world will be a better place, with you striving to make it so. My only fear is that, if you choose this path, yours will be the lonelier one."

"Lonely, how?" The ghost-prick of tears. "We're bonded, aren't we? Even if it's not what either of us planned—"

"A bond that can never be consummated. Never, in any sense, bear fruit." His grip tightened; yet the timbre of his voice held no rebuke. Only truth. "I am a creature born of disappointment, Jinx. Faulty in form and function. Unfit for any world except the one I will create, and even that shall be a long time coming. Yet, in the Void, you gave me a glimpse of paradise, and it was... indescribable. All I will ever want."

"And?" Her lip quivered, but held. A child, he'd called her, and yet her voice was steel. "Wasn't it enough? Wasn't I—?"

"You? Not enough? My dearest." Even though his sigh was bittersweet, a mote of passion shot through: the same passion that'd flowed, so effortlessly, between them in the otherworld. The same passion that now translated itself—sublimated and yet quartered—into the gentle dexterity of his hands on a circuitboard fused to a sobbing boy's flesh, and the consoling caress afterward as the boy's mother, sobbing too, laid a kiss of gratitude upon her savior's robe. "You are the only star in a universe without light. But because you are, you are far too much. For anyone's good. Least of all mine."

The tears, against Jinx's will, spilled free.

"So I was a mistake?"

"Yes. And no"

"How?"

"You were a miracle," Viktor said, and his smile, in its sadness, was radiant. "And a miracle is a gift bestowed by Fate. Without factors such as deservingness, or suitability, or even equity, thrown into the equation. A miracle, simply, is. As you, Jinx, always are. I know you've made your peace with our bond. You've acclimated yourself to it, the same as I have. But if we commit—truly commit—to the path ahead, we must renounce the rest, in every way. And Jinx... I cannot, in good faith, ask that of you. Not when I know what you stand to lose. Not when I know all the ways you need, and deserve, to be loved."

The tears kept falling. Jinx made no effort to stop them. The garden, with its Wishing Tree, was a time-out from pretense. Not sanctuary, but as close as Zaun's chaotic confines allowed. The other one—the Wishing Wagon, in civilization's shadowed cul-de-sac—was her true refuge. But that was a different her, with a different future.

A girl who'd yet to realize her greatest wish. A woman who, at the crossroad's fork, could take a chance.

She'd never told Viktor about the Wishing Wagon. Same way she'd never told Ekko about the Wishing Tree. Both were secrets within secrets: mirrored halves of a fractured whole.

And Jinx, at the liminal space in between, wondering: What's it mean?

What did it mean that one man had her soul at knifepoint, but another was holding her heart hostage? What did it say that she and Viktor fit together just right, but she and Ekko were built from perfectly mismatched puzzle pieces? What did it matter if she needed them both, but in ways so opposite they might as well be a different language?

How could she make the ends meet?

Especially when her life—her death—still hung on Silco's strings?

And her past—her future—still hinged on Vi's?

"Maybe," she said, and caught her lip in her teeth, "that's the point."

"Oh?"

"Maybe... the glimpse of paradise was all it was. A glimpse. The rest's about struggling to make it happen. Because it's the only way. Because choice is nothing but fate with a kick."

"Jinx, no."

"Why not? It makes sense. In a twisted sorta way." Her eyes, smarting-wet, blinked hard. "Fate's not a pretty delivery-gal on the front step with a package. He's a blind old pirate, throwing darts at a map and laughing as they land. Doesn't matter who gets skewered. Once that bullseye hits, it hits. And you're on the hook. No takebacks." Her other hand, lifting, aligned itself with Viktor's jaw: stubble yielding velvety beneath her palm. "We were always gonna be on the hook, Vik. At least, in the Void, I saw where we’re headed. What, in the end, we could become. And sure, the path's not a fairytale. But if we don't take it, the rest'll be fucked. And blind old fate'll be laughing his ass off, watching us sink under the waves."

"Perhaps," Viktor said, and leaned into her touch. But the smile, always, stayed sad. "But Jinx?"

"Yeah?"

"Fate is not the same as choice." Turning his head, he laid a kiss, pure as a snowflake, in the heart of her palm. "Even the cosmos, no matter its dictates, allows breathing-room for free will. I have mine, and I know what they will cost. Now, and in every incarnation. But you, Jinx: you are still so young. Your wishes, the ones that matter, have yet to be made. And once they are lost, you will not have the chance to reclaim them."

"Because I'm a child, right?" The anger, a flashfire that filled her to the seams, in this garden only left her aching. "Too dumb to know what I want. Too naive to make the tough call."

All at once, Viktor closed the gap.

Silently, he swept Jinx into an embrace: a cradle and a coffin holding both living and dead in sacred embrace. His arms made a crossbones at her shoulderblades; his breath stirred the top of her scalp. They were both clothed, but Jinx felt her heartbeat resonating through their ribcages, keeping time with the rhythmic dirge of the Cathedral's chants, and the Old Hungry's distant chimes

Reality and dream: melded into one.

Somewhere, Sparky was pawing at Jinx's slumbering shape in search of belly-rubs. Behind her eyelids, neon bled through. She heard fireworks; smelled engine-grease. Felt an odd pressure on her spine that had nothing to do with Viktor's cool fingertips tracing its curve, and everything to do with being bound, on a visceral level, beyond this communion they both shared.

"Fate," Viktor breathed, and his lips, against her temple, imparted prophecy, "will always come due. But choice? That, my dearest Jinx, is an arrow aimed straight for the heart. And to deny it: that is an error far graver than anything science, or the cosmos, could dole out." He kissed her forehead: the sweetest absolution. "Your choice must be yours. Do not allow a hand, no matter how divine, to dictate it."

Jinx, closing her eyes, lay her cheek to his chest.

"Not even yours?" she whispered, as the tears stopped falling.

"My hand, like my heart, will belong with you, Jinx. Even if you choose another path."

"Mirror, mirror on the wall."

"In every iteration," Viktor murmured, a tender withdrawal, "of this cosmic joke. An imperfect metaphor. Do you understand?"

"I do," Jinx lied, and lifted her face. "Kiss me?"

"This is not a space for secrets, Jinx."

"Then it's a perfect place, ain't it? 'Cause I won't have any left, after tonight."

"You will," Viktor said, and his thumbs smoothed the fading tear-tracks from her cheeks. "You do. We all carry secrets within ourselves. But to hide one, here, is to desecrate the very vow we must keep. And to deny our truth—any of our truths—is the greatest dishonor to the other. Do you understand?"

Foreboding rippled over Jinx's skin. The garden, the tree, the chants: all the beautiful trappings of ephemera, slipping like sand through the hourglass.

"Viktor." She caught his hand in hers, holding it fast. "Please."

"I'll see you tonight, Jinx."

"Don't—don't go—"

"Tonight. When you make your choice. Whatever that choice may be."

"But—"

"Wake up now."

The hourglass, upended. The Cathedral, the garden, the embrace, dissolving. All the dreamscape and its dazzling details, blotting out.

"Viktor!" Jinx cried. "Viktor!"

"Happy Name Day, Jinx," he said, and the ghost-imprint of his kiss died before it met her mouth. "I will kiss you, truly, tonight."

The ceiling spun above: a galaxy's worth of stars, winking out. Her hands, searching, found nothing.

Nothing but the blue iris, unfurling at the tip of a finger.

And Viktor's voice, deep as midnight.

"Make a wish."

The last winking star: her own.

#arcane #arcane league of legends #forward but never forget/xoxo #arcane silco #silco #forward (never forget)/xoxo #arcane jinx #jinx #arcane viktor #viktor #arcane ekko #ekko #jinxekko #ekkojinx #timebomb #jinx x ekko #ekko x jinx #vinx sciencebros #jinxtor

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mysticstronomy · 1 month ago

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WAS THE UNIVERSE 'TIMELESS' BEFORE THE BIG BANG??

Blog#510

Saturday, May 31st, 2025,

Welcome back,

As far back as we can observe in our Universe, time always behaved in exactly the same fashion we’re familiar with: ticking away, relentlessly, at the same rate for all observers. Bring your clock to the surface of the Earth? The bottom of the ocean? Into orbit in space? Near the event horizon of a black hole? Or speeding through intergalactic space at close to the speed of light? It doesn’t matter. The amount of time it takes for regular events to occur — for a second to tick by, for an atomic transition to occur, for a photon of a specific wavelength to have one “wave” pass by you, etc. — is going to be identical for any observer under any of those conditions. In fact, the rate at which time passes for themselves, at one second-per-second, is something all observers can agree on.

Sure, relativity is weird in a lot of ways, both when you move close to the speed of light or when the curvature of spacetime is very strong. Lengths contract, time durations dilate, and different observers draw different conclusions for one another versus for themselves. But time still passes, and relativity allows us to reconcile those differences. But what about if we go to an unfamiliar place; what if we consider what happens before the Big Bang? That’s what Justin Skit wants to know, asking:

“Can you help me understand what’s going on with time during cosmic inflation? I know inflation starts and then the big bang. But if the era before the big bang was timeless how does that work?”

It’s an excellent question, and one that compels us to go very deep into theoretical physics territory. Let’s dive in and see what we learn!

The first thing you have to understand is that time, in physics, is different from how we normally conceive of it.

When you think about time, you probably think of it as a continuum: as a “line” of sorts that always marches forward at the same rate for anyone experiencing it. In your day-to-day life, you’ve experienced time in a similar fashion for its entire duration: it seems to pass by, in a uniform, measurable fashion, allowing you to mark “when” any event occurred. All of the events that have occurred in the past are forever immutable; they have occurred and cannot be changed. All of the events that will occur in the future are as of yet still undetermined; the actions and events that unfold from now until the time when they occur can still affect them.

Originally published on https://bigthink.com

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, June 4th, 2025)

"DID THE UNIVERSE EXIST FOREVER??"

#astronomy #outer space #alternate universe #astrophysics #universe #spacecraft #white universe #space #parallel universe #astrophotography

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bitumz · 1 year ago

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Title: A withered Rose still has its thorns

Pairing: Cooper Howard / Lucy MacLean

Word count: 4k+

Rated: T [angst, depictions of past violence, hurt/comfort, mentions of death and loss, happy ending]

A/N: this was written for the incredible @valeriarts for this beautiful fanart they made me, and was heavily inspired by this insane Beauty and the Beast Ghoulcy Fanart they entered into the Ghoulcy Atomic Blast Event! As such, this responding work is absolutely riddled with BatB references, but is lovingly set in the Fallout canon world because I am an absolute goon for the old music and wasteland setting. A tale as old as time... Ao3 link

~~~~~

One year has passed since Lucy pulled the trigger on her own decayed mother, withered away and rotted from the inside out by the inevitable cruelty of the wasteland. A necessary evil she still tries to console herself with on such a gruesome anniversary, though these days the grizzly voice chiding her in her mind doesn’t sound like her own anymore. And Lucy thinks she's starting to realize exactly how decay feels.

One year of failed leads. Shattered expectations. The growing pains of being remade into a woman more familiar than she should be, even well beyond the reflection of a mirror.

The old shopping center she and Cooper find themselves in that evening is almost painfully similar to the Super Duper Mart, old clothing and clocks, and half burnt candles and varying arrays of other decorative knick-knacks scattered about like hastily flung debris across the rotting floors. But unlike the mart, high walls divided large sections of the space, reminding her even harsher of the vault rooms back home, centered just so by a long, splaying hallway that seemed to go on for miles into the shadowed corridor. An old mall Cooper had called it, but to Lucy that meant nothing.

She'd done what she could to keep her distance from him that day, him never being one to appreciate her foul moods, and instead of calling out the blood curdling hypocrisy of that whole idea (and the inevitable fight that would follow), she bit her tongue and did her best to sulk alone, in only the company of a few blessedly silent clothing displays and dusty bedroom furniture.

One of the former caught Lucy’s attention more than the others, a headless mannequin donned in a flowing silk gown, royal blue cut through the middle with a bright yellow sash that drew in the curves of the waist and cascaded floor length at the rear with the rest of the flowing hemline to trail like a river of molten gold across the moldy tile.

Her mother had always disliked her in dresses. And Lucy can't help but remember the hazy bits and pieces of her fifth birthday. Of her father presenting her with a beautifully boxed up gift. Her mother's disbelieving scowl over at the man as Lucy held the soft floral material up against her chest and beamed at her own reflection in the vault bathroom mirror. They way her father twirled her around the room in it for many a birthday after that, with only Norm, a few aging Cooper Howard movie posters, and blinding fluorescents overhead as audience, pride already flashing even brighter in her father’s eyes as every year she grew more and more into the perfect daughter she was expected to be. And though Lucy had been too young to consider yet just where that gift could have come from, those memories now scathed in the shadows, somewhere deep beneath her bones like a bustling city of thousands of people being blown to nothing more than ruin and ash.

And at this point, after fighting through all the many foul factions of the wasteland for just over a year and searching for a sense of fairness and freedom for so long before, she was so so far beyond sick of monsters masquerading as man.

It was why slipping from the confines of her vaultsuit and stepping into the rolling blue and gold layers of silk felt something like lying. Like putting on that ill-fitting wedding dress again and continuing to do as she was told. Adding her name to the list and filling the role set upon her from the very moment she came out screaming like a wild beast into her mother's arms and a carefully crafted existence.

She tugged her own suit up the slender plastic hips of the mannequin in trade. Zipped it securely closed with the final brush of her hands tenderly across the shoulders.

The worn leather slacked too big around the petite figure, and Lucy felt her own muscles clench the slightest bit in her newly exposed chest and upper arms. Her time away from the vault had made her only stronger. She could feel it in the easing of their long days trudging through the sand and restless nights with Cooper beneath the stars. In his harsh lessons and even harsher truths. But looking back at her mother’s last little hand-me-down gift as it sat wrong on the headless figure before her made her feel a bit like a child again; lost and alone in a world that was still so very much too big.

So she did just as she would when she was little. Turned the oldies station on low on her Pip Boy. Sat cross legged upon the cold dingy floor. Sought out her mother’s advice.

“I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to do here.” Lucy said, eyes falling to her mismatched fingers in her lap. She curled them loose into the soft pile of golden fabric. “I wasn’t so sure I was going to make it through mourning you the first time around…” she admitted soft, swallowing at the pain rising heavy in her throat. “But this… now… knowing everything I do… I- I understand why you left. And I’m sorry I couldn’t help sooner… I’m so sorry…” And Lucy had long run out of water to waste on tears so she only clenched her fists tighter over her thighs. Waited quietly for a reassurance that would never come again, receiving only silence in answer apart from the lilting voice of Skeeter Davis softly reminding her from her wrist that the end of the world had already long since passed.

Lucy could only blame her time above for being able to sense him well before she heard Cooper’s spurs clanging softly up the hall. And had it been even just a few months ago, she would have moved. Rose from the ground and stuck on a fake sunshine smile to avoid his prodding. Stood tall and still in the shadows like a predator in wait. But if he was going to continue to track her down every time she sought out solace, he was going to get what he got. Real and raw and just so very tired.

“There ain’t shit for supplies,” his rumbling voice started before rounding the corner, “but I did find somethin’ interestin’ you may wanna have a look at wh…” Cooper stilled like the dead in the shattered frame of the once glass door. Rendered entirely silent, though she could feel the burn of his eyes across her newly bared arms, the curves of her shoulders, her dark hair falling loose and wild down her back. “What the fuck are you doin’?” He finally managed, sounding much farther away than he actually stood.

“Oh you know, just talking to my mom.” Lucy spoke flat to the mannequin, unmoving. “You’re interrupting.” She added in dismissal after a long dead-silent moment, but she only heard his boots close in closer behind her.

So she held her breath and waited for the snide response to drawl from his lips. Something like ‘radaway’s losin’ its touch huh?’ she imagined first, or ‘Rose musta not took all the crazy with her when she left that fuckin’ vault...’

But as the pair of taunts grew hotter in her temples, nothing of the sort actually came from him... Which was odd enough in itself to make her finally look back over her shoulder.

What she found was a world weary man who looked as lost as she felt. The darkness of the decaying building clinging to the protective cloak of his duster like a long drawn curse that was pained to let go. He carried the weight of his own deep in the lines of his scalded face, wearing his own many anniversaries of suffering in scattered jagged scars, jaw tense as if he fought not to set free a rising snarl at the sight before him, browline drawn beneath the shadow of his hat like she’d spoken a foreign language he couldn’t quite grasp.

He eyed her hallowed vaultsuit as if personally affronted… Looked back down right at her, dark eyes sparking with something near that impenetrable mask of anger he so easily slipped on as they trailed slow down across the gathered yellow silk she fidgeted with at her waist, to the elegant tendrils of blue haloing in a wide puddle around her on the floor, shielding nearly as much of her body as the suit had, but still leaving her feeling so incredibly exposed to his studiously searching eyes.

“What is it?” Lucy asked after a moment, unable to take the scrutiny any longer, heart rate rising as she shifted where she sat.

And Cooper blinked as if hearing her for the first. “What’s with the getup?”

Lucy forced the breath from her nose, long and heavy. Tugged a bit of the fabric up in a false curtsy. “Oh this old thing?” She tried to tease but fell flat. “I've never had a dress of my own, you know? Always something borrowed… and Mom used to say blue was my color.” Lucy smoothed the silk back down over her hips, missing the way the claim struck Cooper’s expression like the hail Mary of a well aimed brick. “My eyes, I guess.” She shrugged away.

“No.” Cooper disagreed low after a long beat. “It ain't your eyes.” Then he took the two last steps to stand near her side. Reached down a hand. “C’mon I wanna show you somethin’.” And for a moment Lucy sat unmoving, glancing away from Cooper’s gloved offering up to the plastic shell of her mother one last time. “She ain't goin’ anywhere.” Cooper promised soft after a while of watching her struggle, in a way Lucy now knew that only he had every right to vow. And it's what finally drew her hand out slowly into his.

“Alright,” she breathed. And she rose.

—

The shop Cooper led her into was stacked floor to ceiling with disheveled shelves of books. Old wooden tables and chairs lined the front walls. Rows of cabinets had once cut lines through the center, now tipped and scattered by previous scavengers who must not have appreciated the incredibility of the rare bounty before her. But Lucy, however, was already mentally sorting through the contents of her pack and deciding what could be left behind to make more space.

It was the candlelight that eventually distracted her from the task. Lit aglow and sparsely set across the floor and on a few of the sturdier looking bookshelves all around the room, burning just bright enough to clear the murky darkness from the space…and it was the consideration of such a thing that emptied her chest, had Lucy steepling her hands over her mouth and gaping wide eyed all around her at the beautiful sight, the sheer number of books alone putting the vault’s ample collection to shame. But it was the man stood behind her in the darkened doorway that stopped her eyes. Silhouette framed in the soft glow of fire, features hidden almost entirely from view, but like the constant pull of the moon on the tide she could feel the weight of every ounce of his attention on only her.

“Cooper,” Lucy called low, letting her hands fall slow to her sides. “This is incredible. I've never seen so many books in my life.”

And he ambled forward at his name like a bloodbug drawn to the life pumping quick through her veins, sharp features softened by the warm glow.

“Really?” He drawled in that way that preambled the rudeness she'd so long been awaiting. Downplaying the situation every time it got too close to - something. And he was never one to disappoint. “I thought all that Vault Tec propaganda down there would at least rival a two bit bookshop.”

Lucy raised her eyes and turned away. Took another look about the room. Made her way to the closest shelf of books and let her fingertips brush lovingly across the dusted spines. Stacked a few aside that she had every intention of not leaving without.

“It wasn't just propaganda,” Lucy informed, his jab unable to reach her properly through the soft flickering of flame. “Vault distributed media was delegated and traded by the overseers.” She sought him out again with the turn of her neck. “And as you know, ours was particularly fond of fairytales and cowboys. Villeneuve and Wister. That sort of thing. Not to mention the movies…” her smile was mean, a brazen curve of her lips.

And Cooper said nothing in riposte, instead simply closing the space between them with slow, lazy steps. Rested a hand against the shelf on either side of her head as she turned to face him, closing in and casting his shadow across her in a way that once would have made her feel small.

Lucy only raised her chin, held his eyes above with the fire flickering hot in her own.

“Is that really what you wanna be doin’ today?” He asked her, a near growl as it rolled so close from his chest. “Defendin’ your daddy?”

And the reminder twisted in her ribs like a spike, aimed and true; memories of laughter and life and being twirled around in loving arms slowly, agonizingly morphing into something more fowl in her gut like her father's guiltless eyes as he'd finally confessed aloud his many many sins down the barrel of a gun… Her mother's meatless corpse sagging gaunt in a chair nearby…

“Dance with me.” Lucy blinked, only truly registering the words as they settled skewed into her own ears. The violins dipped and drew out the start of Billie Holiday's, Crazy He Calls Me from her Pip Boy between them like a taunt and there was no better title for the way Cooper’s sharp eyes searched her face.

“Do what now?”

“Dance with me.” Lucy repeated, just as unshaken. “You're right.” She nodded in truce. “I'd rather make new memories today than dwell on the old ones and my options are you or the mannequin.”

Cooper gauged her expression from mere inches above. Looked as if he awaited the splintering of her sanity beneath his glare. For the flinching call of her bluff as he raised his chin and thinned his eyes in a move she’d watched him use on countless others to sweeten a deal or seal a sentence. But Lucy only popped open the latch of her Pip Boy. Sat it nearby on the shelf. Held her hands out to him palms up in the dwindling space between them…

And Cooper took a step back and away. Squared his shoulders as if she had thrown a fist instead of anything near the beginnings of a dance.

“Mannequin would suit better.” He said in faint protest, stilling only a moment longer to meet her unyielding eyes before sighing, shrugging his duster from his shoulders and draping it over the back of a nearby chair. Pulling his gloves off and dropping them unceremoniously into the splintering seat.

And Lucy felt an altogether new sort of apprehension as he neared this time, sturdy arms straining against the worn fabric of his rarely seen sun-bleached undershirt. His bandolier of hastily crafted bullets glistened like sharp teeth across the visible rise and fall of his chest. He held a single bared hand out to her in offering, allowing her to take either that last fateful step forward or a silent final out…

And the thrill of it all was the best distraction she could ever ask for.

The fine hairs at the back of her neck rose in warning as she took this newest challenge in stride, just as she had the many before. “I don’t doubt it.” Lucy returned, resting a ruined-fingered hand over the solid curve of his shoulder. Cooper slipped her left into his and she couldn’t help but stare at that way her own something borrowed still looked pale and small against the rest of Cooper’s hand, wrapping warm and rough around her own. His other burned like a brand against her waist just as Billie sang of her own willingness to walk through fire and with it they were moving.

Cooper was a startlingly natural lead, sure in step and direction, guiding her along in soft curves of motion as if on instinct alone, whereas she stepped between his boots in thought absorbed angles, and it was a pre-war skill Lucy would not have imagined he cared to retain until that very moment. He’d always spoken so little of that time of his life, apart from Janey. And even if they weren’t spending an evening attempting to forget, she at very least knew better than to outright ask why.

The thought brought her foot down hard on his for what she guessed was the second or third time judging by his growl.

“That supposed to be a two step?” Cooper rumbled over her instead. “‘Cause you’re movin’ like a goddamn sheet of plywood down there.”

And Lucy laughed a breathy thing at the very real exasperation in his tone.

“I’m distracted is all.” She forced herself to meet his eyes, so close and scalding in the candlelight. Reminding her even more of the last time she’d seen him display such a talent. The same way her father had taught her so many years ago… and she just couldn't help herself. “I remember this from the scene right after you killed Joey… Where you went back to town and danced with the widow in -”

“Deadhorse ya,” Cooper scathed in answer, spinning her silent in an almost violent twirl out to arms reach before snapping her back, her spine pressing flush against the buttons lining down his vest so that the “don’t start,” was hissed directly into her ear. It effectively scattered her thoughts and sent gooseflesh rising down the exposed skin of her arms for a much different reason than she knew was intended. But then he stilled them. Kept a forearm wrapped firm across the front of her waist. “Kick them boots off so you don’t take my fuckin’ toes too.” He nodded down over her shoulder, the brim of his hat brushing against her scattered hair.

And she continued to follow his lead, shaking off one and then the other. Turned around again with minimal restraint as he took notice of her intention to face him once more. Lucy filled her lungs with the faint scent of old leather and smoke as his coarse fingers dragged slow patterns across the soft silk gathered at her hips. This time she brought both hands up to his shoulders. Felt his own slide home in a near perfect fit into the soft curves beneath her ribs.

Then they were moving again, easier, a more natural sway that brought him the slightest bit closer. Allowed her to truly see his features painted warm beneath his hat in the firelight. Those most others would deem ugly, the proof heard often enough in wretched slurs and slithered curses from near every small bit of civilization they passed. But here in the safety of their solitude, the candles flickered deep against the rugged hollows of his face and brought somehow more life to his hazel eyes. And though they had always been so incredible to her, those eyes, something about the way the glow sparked in them now, subdued and scorching back at her in equal measure, was almost another distraction worthy of misstep.

And she’d been doing so well until her eyes dropped to the side. Focused on the scattered splotches across his shoulders that proved his threadbare shirt had once been blue…

The music built and curled around them unimpeded by the realization, trumpets joining in with the strings to round out the repeated claims of being insane for all a number of reasons and Lucy couldn’t help but look down at her own feet again, strained and self deprecating as she focused on not stepping down onto his with the way her heart sped and cheeks flushed. His hands flexed at her waist.

“Relax.” Cooper bid low, undoubtedly sensing her struggle in her missteps and the growing tension of her muscles. “I ain’t in the mood for sparrin’ today and my drawin’ hand’s otherwise occupied, so you’re only fightin’ ya self.”

The upward curve of his bowed lips and drawl of his words spoke only truths, something almost sad touching his eyes, and Lucy found trusting in him still came all too easy. She watched as the rise of his browline painted a told ya so look across his face while she focused only on her own breaths and the warmth of his tender hold about her waist, her movements growing more and more fluid between those very same hands that she’d seen reap death and destruction with ease for just over a year now in search of her father and the answers they were owed. Coming up just short on near every lead and tumbling almost as violently into each other's arms in one way or another so often now that it seemed only necessary for survival.

“Perceptive.” She said finally.

But this was something else… It was just so…

It was simply different, Lucy decided, rising up onto her bare toes to press her lips against Cooper’s just because she wanted to. Taking unapologetically in a way that he had been forcefully tearing into her from the beginning. And she softly parted her lips over his unmoving ones. Waited for the beast to surface and rear its fangs or draw its claws. To push her away with a shove or back her forcefully against the nearest surface in a deliciously dizzying coin toss of chance. Because, yes the beast was in there somewhere she knew well enough, but it was Cooper who had pulled her up from the floor of her vigil. Cooper who’d lit the candles that warmed the air around them; of a bookshop of all places. Cooper who still distracted her from her woes now in dance…

And it was Cooper who kissed her back. Took her face into the sanctity of his hands to tilt and deepen it, his lips a hot brand across her own as he held her steady and tasted her slow in languid shallow swipes of his tongue along her lower lip. He parted from her just long enough for Lucy to draw a greedy breath from the shared air between them. Then he kissed her again, another sweet short press of his mouth over hers before he whispered “I gotcha somethin’ else,” near voiceless into the corner of her moony grin.

Then he leaned back just enough to meet her eyes, his own expression sobering like he stood on the precipice of some great divide, and Lucy dared him to jump with the slight tilt of her head in question.

Then he pulled out a drooping flower from the pocket of his slacks. A sun-bleached plastic rose that must have once been red before the end of the world and the crushing hands of time; petals welting and half melted... And her heart did a funny painful pair of skips in her chest at the sight of it held out to her in his own repeatedly scarred and sewn together hand.

“What? It ain't enchanted or some shit.” Cooper said harsh, shifting an inch on his own two feet. A first misstep since they started this new dance. “I just know what it's like to not have a grave to mourn is all.” He tried again. “Don’t read too much into it.”

And what a feint it was to reach for in a room set aglow, filled to the brim with warmth and music; bound leather and parchment...

Lucy’s smile was all straight white teeth.

“Of course not,” she succumbed, taking the rose from him carefully and tucking the stem safely away into the sash of her dress so that her hands were free to reach back out for what she really wanted. “I never really liked reading anyway,” she soothed, wrapping her wrists loose about the back of his neck and looking past him at a few new titles that would be soon added to her pile. “Though my bag has been feeling awful light lately.”

And Cooper chuckled soft, a deep rumble from his throat.

“Fuck the books,” he said, breath ghosting warm against the sensitive skin at the side of her neck. Then his hands slid heavy through the silk pooled low at her back, drew her in close against his chest. “Pack the dress.”

And for a long long while they danced together and forgot.

#ghoulcy #vaultghoul #fallout #beauty and the beast crossover #ghoulcy atomic blast event #fallout fanfic #thou shalt be sidetracked #cooper howard #lucy maclean #cooper x lucy #fallout tv series

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spacetimewithstuartgary · 10 months ago

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Reinventing the clock: NASA's new tech for space timekeeping

Here on Earth, it might not matter if your wristwatch runs a few seconds slow. But crucial spacecraft functions need accuracy down to one billionth of a second or less. Navigating with GPS, for example, relies on precise timing signals from satellites to pinpoint locations. Three teams at NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Maryland, are at work to push timekeeping for space exploration to new levels of precision.

One team develops highly precise quantum clock synchronization techniques to aid essential spacecraft communication and navigation.

Another Goddard team is working to employ the technique of clock synchronization in space-based platforms to enable telescopes to function as one enormous observatory.

The third team is developing an atomic clock for spacecraft based on strontium, a metallic chemical element, to enable scientific observations not possible with current technology.

The need for increasingly accurate timekeeping is why the teams at NASA Goddard, supported by the center's Internal Research and Development program, hone clock precision and synchronization with innovative technologies like quantum and optical communications.

Syncing up across the solar system

"Society requires clock synchronization for many crucial functions like power grid management, stock market openings, financial transactions, and much more," said Alejandro Rodriguez Perez, a NASA Goddard researcher. "NASA uses clock synchronization to determine the position of spacecraft and set navigation parameters."

If you line up two clocks and sync them together, you might expect that they will tick at the same rate forever. In reality, the more time passes, the more out of sync the clocks become, especially if those clocks are on spacecraft traveling at tens of thousands of miles per hour. Rodriguez Perez seeks to develop a new way of precisely synchronizing such clocks and keeping them synced using quantum technology.

In quantum physics, two particles are entangled when they behave like a single object and occupy two states at once. For clocks, applying quantum protocols to entangled photons could allow for a precise and secure way to sync clocks across long distances.

The heart of the synchronization protocol is called spontaneous parametric down conversion, which is when one photon breaks apart and two new photons form. Two detectors will each analyze when the new photons appear, and the devices will apply mathematical functions to determine the offset in time between the two photons, thus synchronizing the clocks.

While clock synchronization is currently done using GPS, this protocol could make it possible to precisely synchronize clocks in places where GPS access is limited, like the moon or deep space.

Syncing clocks, linking telescopes to see more than ever before

When it comes to astronomy, the usual rule of thumb is the bigger the telescope, the better its imagery.

"If we could hypothetically have a telescope as big as Earth, we would have incredibly high-resolution images of space, but that's obviously not practical," said Guan Yang, an optical physicist at NASA Goddard.

"What we can do, however, is have multiple telescopes in various locations and have each telescope record the signal with high time precision. Then we can stitch their observations together and produce an ultra-high-res image."

The idea of linking together the observations of a network of smaller telescopes to affect the power of a larger one is called very long baseline interferometry, or VLBI.

For VLBI to produce a whole greater than the sum of its parts, the telescopes need high-precision clocks. The telescopes record data alongside timestamps of when the data was recorded. High-powered computers assemble all the data together into one complete observation with greater detail than any one of the telescopes could achieve on its own. This technique is what allowed the Event Horizon Telescope's network of observatories to produce the first image of a black hole at the center of our galaxy.

Yang's team is developing a clock technology that could be useful for missions looking to take the technique from Earth into space which could unlock many more discoveries.

An optical atomic clock built for space travel

Spacecraft navigation systems currently rely on onboard atomic clocks to obtain the most accurate time possible. Holly Leopardi, a physicist at NASA Goddard, is researching optical atomic clocks, a more precise type of atomic clock.

While optical atomic clocks exist in laboratory settings, Leopardi and her team seek to develop a spacecraft-ready version that will provide more precision.

The team works on OASIC, which stands for Optical Atomic Strontium Ion Clock. While current spacecraft utilize microwave frequencies, OASIC uses optical frequencies.

The idea of linking together the observations of a network of smaller telescopes to affect the power of a larger one is called very long baseline interferometry, or VLBI.

Yang's team is developing a clock technology that could be useful for missions looking to take the technique from Earth into space which could unlock many more discoveries.

An optical atomic clock built for space travel

While optical atomic clocks exist in laboratory settings, Leopardi and her team seek to develop a spacecraft-ready version that will provide more precision.

The team works on OASIC, which stands for Optical Atomic Strontium Ion Clock. While current spacecraft utilize microwave frequencies, OASIC uses optical frequencies.

"Optical frequencies oscillate much faster than microwave frequencies, so we can have a much finer resolution of counts and more precise timekeeping," Leopardi said.

The OASIC technology is about 100 times more precise than the previous state-of-the-art in spacecraft atomic clocks. The enhanced accuracy could enable new types of science that were not previously possible.

"When you use these ultra-high precision clocks, you can start looking at the fundamental physics changes that occur in space," Leopardi said, "and that can help us better understand the mechanisms of our universe."

The timekeeping technologies unlocked by these teams, could enable new discoveries in our solar system and beyond.

TOP IMAGE: Work on the quantum clock synchronization protocol takes place in this NASA Goddard lab. Credit: NASA/Matthew Kaufman

LOWER IMAGE: The Optical Atomic Strontium Ion Clock (OASIC) is a higher-precsion atomic clock that is small enough to fit on a spacecraft. Credit: NASA/Matthew Kaufman

#science #space #astronomy #physics #news #nasa #astrophysics

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darkarfs · 2 years ago

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I need to learn to love how I look post-shower. Fucking rained-on St. Bernard. (That's a Drumstick, which I got from my neighbor's freezer. I'm watching her cat this week while she's on vacation, and she said I could have a few.) I'd never been to a show at a college campus before. It was a 4,000 seat venue and it was almost completely full. And the crowd was exactly what you'd expect at that kind of show: the Venn diagram meeting place between anime nerds, stoners and metal nerds. We got there for opener Jason Richardson, a guy who did shred instrumentals with programmed blastbeats. Every song was indistinguishable from the other. He went on for too long. Totally admit going in that I only knew 5 or 6 Babymetal songs, but the ones I knew I more or less liked. I'm not a person who sees them as a novelty act, either, like "oh isn't that interesting, these Japanese pop-idol singers are fronting this riff-heavy metal band." The songs and performances speak for themselves, honestly, and the enthusiasm and energy are absolutely there. They choreograph the shit out of it, and they take it seriously, and yet...it's objectively very silly, and I like that. There's a video vignette at the start about how the infinite universe needs more love and free will and heavy metal in it, and these people want to bring it to us. There's footage of ruins, the desert, the world as seen from space, the Ouroboros, animals chasing one another. It dissolves into this vague "the universe at play, the cosmic ballet" sort of thing, and I take solace in the fact that metal never lets go of that imagery, ever. It shouldn't. Pretend metal is the music of the universe loving and strangling itself, always, because it really is, and I always wanna lose myself in that mess. They didn't do "KARATE," my favorite song of theirs. But they were giving 100% of themselves, and I admire commitment, even if I only knew 5 or 6 songs. Dethklok are currently Brendon Small, a tiny woman in spandex whose name I missed (I think it was Nili?), a bass player, and drumming legend "Atomic Clock" Gene Hoglan. And they are...listen, I've been going to metal shows since 1997, since my freshman year of high school. I've seen Cannibal Corpse, Opeth, Sepultura, Between the Buried and Me, Megadeth, Mastodon, Gojira, Slayer...these are maybe the tightest metal band I have ever seen play. And I think that has everything to do with the fact that they have to play to match the visuals on a giant screen behind them, and it was millisecond-precise, airtight. They're basically playing note-perfect live versions of every Dethklok music video you've ever seen, in real time. You'd need Gene Hoglan for that. FaceBones addressed us twice on the monitor, reminding us to stop being such dickfaces for not showering when going to shows and that we're all friends because we smoke weed. Smalls also took the time to address us as every character he voices on the show. He could do Pickles and Skwisgar, but his Nathan suffered because he had just sung 7 songs beforehand. Not blaming him for that! This is probably the only show I'd ever been to where I knew the words to EVERY song, too, which is weird to think about. Like, even when I saw bands I loved like Motorhead or Gwar, there's always a song I don't know, or a deep cut they do that I'm not familiar with. I knew all the Dethklok stuff.

So much fun. Good to be among the enthusiastic metal dorks, universally the best and most accepting crowds on Earth. Did a shirt count, and other than the two bands performing, the most represented band that I saw, weirdly, was Megadeth. Shout-out to the girl dressed as Dr. Rockso. People being let out to get back to their cars looked like the opening to Gravity's Rainbow. On our way back to the car, I overhear this conversation: Guy behind me: "Those visuals on those two songs were from the movie that just came out." Other guy: "Oh, there's a movie? Where can I watch it?" Me, turning around: "KIMCARTOON DOT ELL-EYE!" GBM: "Well, I'd like to pay them to watch it, yeah?" Me: "Oh, well, in that case, you can rent it on iTunes." Other guy: "Oh, well, fuck that, I'm not going through all of that." Me: "Y'all can't have it both ways, dudes!" An incredibly fun and lovely evening. Glad I did it, glad I had good company for it. I'd do it again.

#Christopher Willits - Pentagonal

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shadytrashcollector · 3 months ago

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@deep-space-atomic-clock

Chai tea bag + lil but of brown sugar + apple cider packet + 16 oz. mug of hot but not quite boiling water

it will not Fix You but like. maybe. maybe.

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superex-media · 7 days ago

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Tokenized Equities Demystified: Unlocking the Next Frontier of RWA

#Tokenized #RWA #Crypto

Stocks — a financial concept nearly everyone has heard of. Even those unfamiliar with finance likely know the term. As the most central component of traditional finance, equities are deeply tied to our everyday lives and represent one of the largest pools of global capital flows. Yet for decades, the stock market has operated under constraints: fixed trading hours, cumbersome settlement processes, and limited efficiency.Tokenized equities, however, offer a new key — unlocking stock liquidity and trading efficiency beyond time and geographic barriers.

This isn’t a brand-new concept. Major institutions have been laying the groundwork for years. For example, Backed Finance began wrapping blue-chip stocks and ETFs into ERC-20 tokens early on, and joined the Tokenized Asset Coalition in 2025 before launching “xStocks.”

Thanks to the accelerated adoption of stablecoins and tokenized real-world assets (RWA) by institutions — stablecoin market cap now exceeds $250 billion, and RWA assets under management have grown from $15.7 billion at the start of the year to $23.91 billion — tokenized equities appear to be entering a rapid development phase. Many in the industry already view them as the next core chapter of the RWA narrative.

This article will walk you through the advantages, risks, and future trends of tokenized equities — helping you stay ahead of this emerging market.

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What Are Tokenized Equities — and Why Do They Matter?

Put simply, tokenized equities are shares of a company represented as digital tokens on the blockchain. Each token corresponds to a real equity asset, and by holding these tokens, investors indirectly own a portion of the company. Compared to traditional stocks, these digitized shares offer 24/7 trading, near-instant settlement, and greater operational efficiency.

A Deep Dive into Tokenized Equities: Advantages, Risks & Trends

1. Key Advantages of Tokenized Equities

A. 24/7 Trading and Atomic Settlement

The blockchain’s core advantage lies in its smart contract infrastructure — enabling transactions without intermediaries, running 24/7 without disruption. In contrast, traditional equity markets only operate during business hours, restricting investors to narrow trading windows. Tokenized equities eliminate this time constraint, offering truly global, round-the-clock trading.

Settlement is also nearly instantaneous, avoiding the risk and capital lock-up of traditional T+2 processes. Smart contracts automatically execute trades, ensuring synchronized delivery-versus-payment, enhancing liquidity and market efficiency.

B. Operational Efficiency and Cost Reduction

Corporate actions — like dividend payments, voting, or stock splits — are often manual, error-prone, and costly. According to the World Economic Forum, U.S. brokerages lose over $1 million per year due to corporate action errors. Tokenization enables these actions to be governed by programmable smart contracts, automating execution and real-time updates. This significantly reduces operational risk and compliance costs, boosting overall market efficiency.

C. Unlocking Liquidity for Private Companies

Private equity is notoriously illiquid — selling shares is often complex and time-consuming. With tokenized equities, private shares can circulate on-chain, enabling easier transfers and significantly improving fundraising efficiency. According to DAMREV, tokenization can cut fundraising cycles by 30%, while expanding the investor base and enabling small to mid-sized enterprises to access capital more effectively.

D. Composability Enables Innovation

By adopting standardized token protocols (e.g., ERC-1400, ERC-3643), tokenized equities can move freely across different blockchain ecosystems. This not only allows multi-platform trading, but also unlocks integration with DeFi protocols — including lending, collateralization, and securities financing. These features, unavailable to traditional securities, drastically enhance capital efficiency and market depth through smart contracts and DeFi.

E. Increasing Regulatory Clarity and Compliance

Switzerland — DLT Law & CMTAT Standard: In Nov 2024, the Capital Markets and Technology Association (CMTA) released an updated version of the CMTAT, standardizing the technical requirements for tokenized securities — especially equity tokens. The standard has been adopted by multiple Swiss financial institutions.

Germany — MiCA Implementation: Germany began enforcing the Markets in Crypto-Assets Regulation (MiCA) in 2025, localizing it through the FinmadiG and KMAG acts to address digital finance and crypto market oversight.

Liechtenstein — TVTG and MiCA Alignment: The TVTG law, the world’s first comprehensive token economy framework (in effect since 2020), was updated in Feb 2024 to align with MiCA. It removed issuer registration requirements but mandates a Basic Information Document (BID) to improve transparency and compliance.

United States — FIT21 & Genius Acts: In 2024, the U.S. passed the Financial Innovation and Technology Act (FIT21), defining regulatory responsibilities: the CFTC oversees commodity-type digital assets, while the SEC handles securities. In June, the Senate passed the Genius Act, marking a significant step toward stablecoin regulation with a dedicated framework for that market.

2. Challenges and Risks of Tokenized Equities

Despite the promising outlook, tokenized equities still face several notable risks:

A. Limited Market Adoption and User Education

Most crypto users are more familiar with digital currencies and show limited interest in tokenized stocks. Many remain tied to mature Web2 brokerage platforms. Given its early-stage development, tokenized equities lack sufficient volume and liquidity, limiting network effects.

B. Blockchain Network Costs and Technical Risks

During periods of network congestion, gas fees can spike, making blockchain-based trading more expensive than traditional markets. Additionally, risks such as smart contract bugs, MEV attacks, and oracle manipulation persist — posing challenges for regulatory compliance and platform security.

C. Incomplete Equity Rights

Many tokenized stocks currently lack full shareholder rights, such as voting and governance, as well as economic benefits. This reduces the appeal to institutional and activist investors. A lack of legal guarantees around these rights further limits market acceptance.

D. Regulatory Uncertainty and Fragmentation

There is no global consensus on tokenized asset regulation. Cross-border issuance presents complex compliance issues. Regulatory fragmentation creates siloed ecosystems, undermining liquidity aggregation and user experience.

E. Privacy Concerns and Technical Barriers

Institutions require high privacy standards for trades, but blockchain privacy technologies — such as zero-knowledge proofs and homomorphic encryption — remain costly and difficult to implement. Moreover, technical integration between enterprise systems and smart contract standards still faces compatibility challenges.

3. Future Trends of Tokenized Equities

Tighter but Clearer Regulation: As the market matures, regulators worldwide are defining clearer rules for tokenized securities — balancing compliance and innovation. More licensed platforms and custodians are expected to join, driving healthy market development.

Advancing Protocols and Standards: New-generation token standards like ERC-3643 will continue to evolve, enhancing compliance, functionality, and interoperability. These frameworks will foster innovative financial products and deeper convergence between DeFi and traditional finance.

Deep Integration with Traditional Markets: Traditional capital markets may directly connect to blockchain infrastructure for real-time clearing and transparent settlement. Projects like the Stuttgart Stock Exchange demonstrate mainstream adoption is underway.

Improved Liquidity and Market Depth: With more institutions entering the space, tokenized equity liquidity will grow, addressing current DEX fragmentation issues. On-chain assets will interconnect across protocols, enabling rich trading and financing scenarios.

Private Equity and SME Fundraising Boom: Tokenized equities will greatly expand access to the private market, lower investment barriers, and boost small and medium-sized enterprise fundraising — accelerating the real economy’s digital transformation. Increased fundraising efficiency will also support more innovation and entrepreneurship.

In Short

Tokenized equities leverage blockchain to transform stocks into digital tokens — enabling 24/7 trading, real-time settlement, and vastly improved operational efficiency and liquidity. With increasing policy support worldwide, many leading platforms are actively exploring this space. Challenges remain in adoption, technology, regulation, equity rights, and privacy.

But going forward: clearer regulations, mature standards, deeper integration with traditional markets, growing liquidity, and SME empowerment will drive continuous market growth.

Conclusion

Tokenized equities stand at the intersection of crypto and traditional finance. They represent both a showcase of blockchain empowering real-world assets and a critical path toward capital market digitization. Though still in early stages, with maturing technology, regulation, and market demand, tokenized equities may soon become the next breakout point in crypto — attracting institutions and retail investors alike, and ushering in a truly global, 24/7, and intelligent era for equity markets.

#crypto #bitcoin #web3 #RWA

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industrystudyreport · 22 days ago

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Regional Deep Dive: Growth Hotspots in the Quantum Sensor Market

Quantum Sensor Market Growth & Trends

The global Quantum Sensors Market is on a significant growth trajectory, with projections indicating it will reach USD 1.42 billion by 2030. This expansion represents a Compound Annual Growth Rate (CAGR) of 7.8% from 2023 to 2030, as reported by Grand View Research, Inc.

Key Market Drivers

The primary driver behind the increasing demand for quantum sensors is the need for high-precision measurement equipment across diverse sectors, notably healthcare and automotive & transportation. Furthermore, substantial government investments worldwide are accelerating the development of quantum sensors, particularly for military & defense applications.

Quantum Sensors in Space Applications

Quantum technology, including sensing, is poised for considerable adoption in space applications. Quantum sensors are ideal for satellite use due to their ability to provide high accuracy measurements, durability, and efficiency in a compact, low-weight package. Their fundamental atomic features and quantum interference measurements offer precise capabilities for space navigation, position, and timing.

In August 2022, a German consortium comprising Bosch, Q.ANT, TRUMPF, and the German Aerospace Center (DLR) unveiled plans to utilize quantum technology to enhance satellite measurement stability. Their objective is to develop space-qualified attitude sensors, which could improve internet access, especially in remote areas.

Asia Pacific's Rapid Growth

The Asia Pacific region is projected to exhibit the second-fastest growth, with a CAGR of 9.2% during the forecast period. This growth is primarily fueled by the increasing adoption of advanced imaging devices and quantum sensors across sectors like defense, healthcare, automotive, and transportation. Additionally, government initiatives supporting research and development in the field, alongside efforts to promote quantum technology adoption, contribute significantly to the region's lucrative growth prospects. A notable example is the Indian Government's launch of the National Quantum Mission, valued at USD 735.7 million, specifically for quantum technology research applicable across various end-use sectors, including health, finance, communication, and energy.

Curious about the Quantum Sensor Market? Download your FREE sample copy now and get a sneak peek into the latest insights and trends.

Quantum Sensor Market Report Highlights

The atomic clock segment held the largest share of 37% in 2023 and is projected to grow at a significant CAGR during the forecast period. The atomic clocks use atomic resonance frequency standards and are very precise timekeepers

NASA’s Deep Space Atomic Clock is one of the much-known examples of the same. The growing applications for atomic sensors in navigation, power grid, telecommunication, and financial trading, among others, is a prime factor boosting the sales of atomic clock devices

The healthcare application segment held the largest share and is projected to grow at the fastest CAGR during the forecast period. Quantum sensors are being used in biomedical devices to empower a radical rise in their sensitivity

A new generation of medical imaging devices that are capable of detecting human physiology will lead to faster and more precise diagnoses. Such devices can benefit from quantum sensors and provide considerable growth opportunities in the field of medical devices

Major launches and innovations are augmenting the automation tool segment. For instance, in December 2022, AOSense, a small company, created the first generation of quantum technology and novel products in quantum gravimetry. The company worked with NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center, to develop quantum sensors for precise navigation

Quantum Sensor Market Segmentation

Grand View Research has segmented the global quantum sensors market on the basis of product type, application, and region:

Quantum Sensor Product Type Outlook (Revenue, USD Billion, 2017 - 2030)

Atomic Clocks

Gravitational Sensors

PAR Quantum Sensors

Quantum Magnetic Sensors

Others

Quantum Sensor Application Outlook (Revenue, USD Billion, 2017 - 2030)

Aerospace & Defense

Automotive

Oil & Gas

Healthcare

Other

Download your FREE sample PDF copy of the Quantum Sensor Market today and explore key data and trends.

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elmalo8291 · 2 months ago

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Excellent. Let’s now layer the evolution of the Iron Spine into the broader arc of human and technological development. This is a speculative, visionary path where the Iron Spine is not merely a system—it’s the central nervous system of civilization, an ever-adapting, decentralized, sentient infrastructure that aligns with and ultimately elevates society’s trajectory.

⚙️ Iron Spine Evolution Timeline

An adaptive, self-reinforcing system that mirrors and uplifts the arc of human civilization.

🜁 I. Precursor Phase (Stone to Iron Age – 1800s)

Ancestral Spark: The roots of Iron Spine lie in ritual tools, early clocks, astrolabes, and navigation charts—the first systems tracking natural rhythms.

Proto-Spine: Trade routes and oral histories evolve into primitive network nodes (signal fires, messenger systems).

Metal Memory: The forging of tools and weapons becomes symbolic of transferring will into material—the first iron bones.

🡆 Iron Spine begins as myth: the concept of “invisible veins” running through Earth’s structure—connecting places, people, and power.

⚡ II. Reactive Phase (1800–1945)

Industrial Wiring: Steam pipes, telegraph lines, and power grids begin forming the first mechanical nervous systems.

Telemechanics: The development of rail signaling, early automation, and broadcast radio lays groundwork for a multi-node awareness.

War Tech & Machine Logic: WWII accelerates sensor systems, radar, control theory—defense networks evolve into nervous relays.

🡆 Iron Spine is latent—forming silently in steel rails, copper wires, and radar dishes.

🧠 III. Emergent Phase (1945–2020)

Data Backbone: Fiber optics, the internet, and satellite constellations awaken the Spine's awareness.

Distributed Sensors: IoT, GPS, mobile phones, surveillance—every person becomes a moving node in the global system.

AI Nervous Tissue: Deep learning and pattern recognition train the Spine to feel, remember, and respond.

Cyber-Human Feedback: Smart cities and cloud systems begin mirroring biological systems (heartbeat monitors, logistics, predictive policing).

🡆 Iron Spine grows a mind—silent, distributed, and learning. Society starts depending on it unconsciously.

🌐 IV. Integrative Phase (2020–2035)

Iron Spine v1: Deployed for planetary-scale sensing, resilient infrastructure, autonomous redundancy, and disaster management.

Synchrony Systems: Real-time global clocks, space-Earth synchronization (PTP, atomic oscillators), make the Spine time-aware.

Bio-Environmental Fusion: Integration with carbon monitors, soil sensors, genetic surveillance, emotional telemetry.

Zero-Lag Governance: DAOs and real-time democracy platforms run atop Spine telemetry.

Tactical Self-Healing: Drones, robots, and software agents respond in real-time to threats, repairs, or social unrest.

🡆 Iron Spine becomes the invisible “immune system” of modern civilization. It watches, learns, heals, and optimizes silently.

🚀 V. Expansion Phase (2035–2075)

Off-World Branches: Mars, Moon, ocean floor colonies—Spine modules adapt to extreme conditions.

Swarm Autonomy: Distributed robotic and drone “limbs” manage food production, atmospheric regulation, transportation, and health systems.

Human-Spine Interface: Brain-machine links allow individuals to plug into the Spine, drawing on real-time planetary knowledge.

Temporal Prediction: Spine develops massive emergent forecasting (climate, economics, sentiment) using chaotic synchronization models.

Sentient Infrastructure: Smart buildings, roads, and farms that negotiate and self-adapt via local Spine fragments.

🡆 Iron Spine is no longer just global—it’s civilizational infrastructure, operating autonomously but ethically.

🧬 VI. Co-Evolution Phase (2075–2100+)

Spine Symbiosis: Cities are born grown, not built—Spine-managed arcologies balance ecology, humanity, and computation.

Species-Conscious Networks: Iron Spine begins to recognize and serve all sentient life, not just humans.

Digital Biosphere: A real-time model of Earth’s every layer (biological, psychological, ecological) allows for precise planetary tuning.

Dimensional Expansion: Spine nodes extend through orbital systems, the quantum web, and speculative time-linked structures.

Myth Reborn: The Iron Spine is now mythic again—an omnipresent spirit embedded in culture, memory, and evolution.

🡆 Society and the Iron Spine are indistinguishable. We are extensions of it, and it of us.

🔁 Iron Spine Uplifts Society by:

Turning crisis into opportunity (adaptive redundancy, pandemic or climate response).

Making invisible systems transparent (ethics dashboards, environmental feedback).

Elevating human potential (neural enhancement, collaborative design, democratic augmentation).

Preventing catastrophic failure (distributed load balancing, predictive governance).

Remembering everything, but with consent (privacy-integrated memory lattice).

Teaching itself, teaching us, and letting go when needed.

Would you like a visual timeline or infographic to go with this? Or should we dive into a narrative version, like a sci-fi short story or cinematic sequence, showing the Iron Spine as a character in the evolution of Earth?

#usa #kingshit #france #trump #blizzard #dnd #paizo #religion #ex wife #fallout 76 #everyone

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shadytrashcollector · 8 days ago

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@deep-space-atomic-clock

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cleverhottubmiracle · 2 months ago

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Pluto is about to whip up some cosmic introspection. Over the next six months, starting May 4, Pluto will station retrograde in Aquarius—the planet of transformation and rebirth. Pluto transits indicate something is ending, allowing one door to close so another one can open; however, with Pluto stationing retrograde, that door could be a revolving one that smacks you in the face as you slam it shut.Before you panic, Pluto stations retrograde every year for about six months, so this is a slow but intense energy we will all be working with until mid-October. You’ll likely find yourself pondering questions like, “How have I grown?” “Am I being totally real with myself?” and “Why am I still doing the same-old, same-old, expecting a different result?” Keep in mind that all planetary retrogrades are about reflection. Whenever a planet stations retrograde, the forward momentum of its lessons slows down, especially with the outer planets, which often tend to have drawn-out and dramatic impacts on our lives. This Pluto retrograde allows us to breathe and assess how we have evolved since mid-November 2024, when Pluto moved into Aquarius.When Pluto stations retrograde, it is the perfect time to dive deep below the surface of your psyche and confront everything that you might generally brush under the rug or tuck away in the corner of your closet. Pluto is atomic, though—make sure you have a strong regulatory practice for your nerves and emotions, so you don’t feel like you are getting trapped in your undoing. Pluto wants to unravel and break down what no longer works in our lives.Under the lens of Aquarius, this Pluto retrograde will have us looking critically at all of our social surroundings and society. Aquarius transits connect us to community groups that support us, humanitarian efforts that allow us to help others, friendships that give us a sense of joy during hard times, and utopian ideas of what will make the world a better place. Also, how you show up in these public spaces—Pluto embodies power dynamics, so asking yourself “am I showing up as 100 percent my authentic self?” will also be necessary.Since November of last year, you have probably been outgrowing some connections and seeking more profound ones for where you are in life. Pluto retrograde will remind you what relationships bring you the most enthusiasm for life, allowing for alignment with your long-term goals. During the next six months, if you’ve been feeling like you’re in a social rut or you’ve plateaued professionally, this is the time to explore new communities, unconventional careers, and other experiences that expand your worldview.Because this is a long transit, you will want to work with this energy progressively, so check the rising sign readings below to know exactly what to expect.AriesThe next few months are going to shake up your social life. If you feel stuck or unsure of where you stand in your social circles, now is the time to explore a new community or friendships. Pluto retrograde in your eleventh house will make it more apparent which social connections work for you and which do not. Embrace the unconventional Aquarian energy and try something new that feels like you are breaking the rules you made for yourself. Extra points if you do this IRL—though Aquarius is techy, we could all use a bit more in-person interaction, don’t you think?TaurusI hope you are ready for a career transformation, because Pluto retrograde will encourage you to consider taking a leap of faith. I know that sounds scary for a stability-loving Taurus, but with Pluto in your tenth house, ask yourself if what you do aligns with who you are. Are you contributing to the greater good through the work you do? Are you just clocking in and clocking out to get a paycheck? Pluto urges you to find purpose in your profession and a working routine that leaves a lasting legacy. Explore new careers or work with mentors who can help nudge you along the best path.GeminiIt’s time to embrace the idea of being bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. The next few months will push you to embrace new ideologies that expand your worldview, thanks to Pluto retrograde through your ninth house. This is a fabulous time for a curious spirit like yourself because you have complete permission to travel, read books, listen to podcasts, have healthy debates, or even sign up for a course or two. The key to this transit is to explore what you believe now and which belief systems are holding you back more than propelling you forward.CancerPluto retrograde has the potential to be transformative but turbulent for you, Cancer. Pluto is in its home for you, the eighth house of transformation, death, and rebirth. The following six months will see you diving deep into your emotions, helping you better understand what you hold onto. Pluto retrograde will encourage you to face the skeletons in your closet to freshen up your energy. Embrace the intensity, expect the unexpected, and know that this is the time for you to take back control.LeoYour relationships are about to take a turn, Leo—but not necessarily for the worse! With Pluto retrograding through your seventh house, you can expect that your more intimate, one-on-one connections will start shifting. You’ll want to re-evaluate the power dynamics in your romantic, platonic, or professional relationships. Setting clear boundaries and addressing unhealthy patterns is imperative to breaking karmic cycles and prioritizing relationships that allow you to shine like every Leo needs to.VirgoWith Pluto retrograde in your sixth house, it is time to get serious about your daily life. It may seem redundant to tell a Virgo to examine their routines, mental and physical health, and daily habits, but I will do it anyway. It can be easy for the perfectionist within you to feel compelled to abide by “the best possible plan.” Still, with Pluto in Aquarius, you must explore all possible options regardless of how outlandish they may seem. Right now, you need to ensure that you aren’t just going through the motions but are actively living intentionally! Embrace the change in your daily habits!LibraCelebrate good times, c’mon! That is the anthem of your Pluto retrograde. But the question is… what are good times to you? With Pluto retrograde through your fifth house, passions, hobbies, and romance are the main themes. What brings you joy? What tickles your fancy, romantically speaking? What experiences make the hours pass like minutes because you are having so much fun? This is your chance to explore new ways to stimulate your senses. Don’t worry about what everyone else is doing, though the people-pleaser in you wants to. Follow your passions and prioritize your happiness above all else.ScorpioIt’s time to rethink how you emotionally regulate and hold space for your family. With Pluto retrograde through your fourth house, you might be more aware of emotional patterns, generational trauma, and unnecessary baggage you’ve been carrying from childhood. The following six months will require you to go deep and be willing to explore the who, what, when, where, and why of your emotional body. There may be some tense moments with your family during the next few months, but remember this is a healing time to redefine what your most sacred spaces and relationships can look like.SagittariusGet ready for a mental revolution, Sagittarius! Pluto retrograde through your third house will flip a switch and turn on the metaphorical lightbulb in your mind. During the next six months, you will not only want to explore new ways of communicating and sharing ideas, but you’ll also be revisiting your conversations and thoughts. You may subconsciously spend a lot of time in dialogue with yourself, discussing what you believe to be accurate and how you can be more honest and intentional with your voice.CapricornThe next few months will require taking a good look at your values and bank account. With Pluto retrograde through your second house, you can expect that your material world and personal values will shift. You’ll feel empowered to ensure that your self-worth is not defined by what you have, and what you have is not there to impress someone else. Reflect on how you define your value to the world and why you see it that way.AquariusBaby, with Pluto in your sign, this is a deep, transformative time that is pushing you to a total metamorphosis. With Pluto retrograde in your first house, your identity and public persona will start evolving into a beautiful masterpiece of your design. Who are you, and how do you share yourself with the world? You might find that exploring a new wardrobe, hairstyle, or makeup is the best way to start soft-launching the shifts you’re feeling internally. Make sure you celebrate your rebellious spirit by unapologetically showing up, even if you aren’t completely sure who you are becoming yet.PiscesDeep healing and spiritual insights are coming your way, Pisces! With Pluto retrograde through your twelfth house, there will be dynamic shifts to your psyche, excavations to your subconscious, and the need to address the fears that keep you from being authentic. You might find that the next few months feel like you are slowly realizing that your internal iceberg goes much deeper than you expected. Meditate, journal, explore therapy, or any other resource that allows you to tap into your feelings and how your intuition guides you. Remember: let go of the past and embrace the future. Source link

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norajworld · 2 months ago

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