#not being very subtle here martians

[kanagenwrites]

Hey folks. My name is Kanagen (It's pronounced Ka-na-ngen. Kana is fine.), and I'm a writer. I mostly write sci-fi with a more or less sapphic bent, and I'm not shy about putting lewd content in what I write because fuck petty moralism.

I'm active in the Human Domestication Guide writing community, where apart from being an author (see below), I'm also a Loret, which means I help maintain and update the lore of the setting, help new creators with questions about it or how to fit a story into it, and so on. All of my publicly available fiction at the moment is HDG content, but I plan on working more on my own original settings and concepts in the future.

I have a patreon, where I post my current long-form project's drafts chapter by chapter, once weekly. I also occasionally talk about my writing process. I'm hoping to expand content there in the future as well.

I don't use social media very much because I remember what the internet used to be like before walled gardens and techbros ruined it. (You kids really don't know what you're missing.) Nevertheless, the life of a freelance writer rather demands I put myself out there somehow, so here I am. Ask me questions, behold the weird stuff I reblog, and try not to get too parasocial with me. I'm just a weird lady who puts words in funny shapes.

Bibliography

Long-Form Fiction

No Gods, No Masters - A revolutionary leftist copes with the subtle differences between her own idea of the perfect world and the just-a-little-off version of it the Affini offer. First novel-length work in the Tillandsia Trilogy; highly suggested you read this before The Floret in the Mirror and especially Freedom's Ember.

The Floret in the Mirror - A mystery/thriller about identity, digitization, and impossible simulated lewdness. Content warning for amnesia resulting from traumatic brain injury as part of the setup. Sequel to No Gods, No Masters.

Freedom's Ember (ongoing) - Sixty years after the Affini conquered her world, a woman clings to her independence; sixty years after being frozen for cryogenic flight from the Affini, a woman struggles to discover who she really is when freed from her father's influence. What is freedom, and what does it mean in the context of the Compact? Sequel to No Gods, No Masters and The Floret in the Mirror, conclusion of the Tillandsia Trilogy.

Sui Generis - A martian attorney living on Earth finds adjusting to life with the Affini easier than most; she was already keeping her wife as a pet before they arrived. The real question is, where's that strange jealousy coming from?

Short Fiction

Mainspring - A Terran secret agent is captured by the Affini, trapped by artist for whom his body is a canvas, and she means to make of him her magnum opus. Wind-up doll content, and probably my most commonly cited story for "this rewired my brain"-style reactions.

Reading the Leaves - A tea-obsessed barista, an affini new to humanity, and a sweet (if awkward) romance culminating in a very raunchy ending. Entry for the HDG February Fluff Fic Jam 2024.

The Fifth Fundamental Force - This story is a silly joke. It should not be taken seriously, though many inevitably do.

Aftertaste (stalled) - A former quadrillionaire and epicure who just barely avoided domestication is tracked down by an affini culinary anthropologist who wants to use his brain to reconstruct a lost flavor using his long-buried memory - he was the last human to ever taste bluefin tuna. This fic is only sporadically updated because the stars must precisely align for my brain to be in a state to write boyliker fic. Sorry, I'm just really gay, y'all.

[zahri-melitor]

So I've read the opening story of Tim Drake: Robin.

The opening issue is solid, highlighting a lot of Meghan Fitzmartin's skills as a writer. She picked up threads neatly from her earlier stories, showed her hand to the audience, and did do a fair amount of subtle character work. If I'd picked it up with no background knowledge of the fandom conversation about the title, I'd have been very excited for where it was going.

I liked the links back to how part of what prompted Tim to move out was Bruce being fussy over Tim having been shot in the throat in Batman #125. That felt realistic and a nice little link between titles.

As far as a story goes: I didn't mind it. Parts of it were very obvious, especially when you clued into the themes - if I'd actually been reading it as it came out and had a month between issues for things to soak in, I probably would have been tapping my toes over the reveal of who Moriarty was disguised as.

I would like to specifically dunk on both Meghan Fitzmartin and Moriarty for the detective novel writer selections, because...hmm. Kinda misogynistic there. Fitzmartin uses 6 writers for this, and 6 specific stories/franchises:-

Edgar Allen Poe – Murders in the Rue Morgue

Mark Twain – The Stolen White Elephant

Arthur Conan Doyle – Sherlock Holmes

Raymond Chandler - Goldfish

James Gelsey – Scooby Doo

Wilkie Collins – The Moonstone

What do you notice about this list, that I immediately noticed? They're all men. Who is an immediate name that comes to mind, who even had public domain stories as of 2022, who probably should be on a list like that and who also has incredible influence over the direction of the genre? Oh, I don't know, maybe Agatha Christie? (Also Dorothy L. Sayers is also right there and available, but skipping Christie?)

And once she'd built up this "it's all the detective stories" premise, Fitzmartin then went for a book code (cool!) from non-existent books (not cool). If you've just spent all this time glorying in how this is all related to Specific Classic Detective Stories, why not...use a real book code and refer to their actual stories? You've already done it for the plots! Commit to the bit!

Also I spent a good chunk of issue #4 staring at the page going "Carol Donovan? You mean Deb Donovan's judge daughter who recently appeared in Mariko Tamaki's 'Tec run? Tim, how are you missing something this straightforward? Also she's dead?" and then it never came to anything. Maybe do a quick check if anyone else has been using the name you just invented for the story.

"I even tried making a new costume for myself. It doesn't fit." - I did find it interesting that Fitzmartin was once again playing with the "is it time to move on" themes for Tim that were popping up around here in various conversations. Especially given she had Tim and Dick relitigate their conversation from Urban Legends #10 and similar themes in DC:YJ. It does suggest to me that she was working her way around to getting Tim into a new identity, but cancellation has once again left that in the 'not happening' basket.

In terms of the art: Riley Rossmo was the wrong pick for the title, but I do see the thought process that led into him getting the nod for the opening story, given the whole claymation villain set. It was very 2D animation style. I don't mind Rossmo (and interestingly he's developing a whole line up of detective stories he's done art for, given he's also had a Martian Manhunter book and got Wesley Dodds, he did one of the Batman/The Shadow crossovers...) but his highly malleable art style loses a lot of background detail or makes what is there harder to parse.

I did very much appreciate the way Rossmo drew Tim's detective work, though. I liked the technique for highlighting details and clues, and it actually very much reminded me of how some computer games present clues (including how it's done in Gotham Knights, in fact).

I know everyone has said this, but Bernard needs to develop a personality AND to commit to whether or not he knows Tim is Robin. Because sort of hinting that he knows, while Tim worries about hiding things from him, but not actually confirming either way is only really acceptable if you actually do build up to a big reveal moment where the whole drama has been paid off.

I did appreciate that MegFitz had clearly taken feedback and returned one of Bernard's two pre-existing personality traits (conspiracy theorist who thinks the Bats are urban legend cryptids), because one of the weaknesses of using Bernard, a side character with 6 preboot appearances, is that at lot of his existing personality was sketched in. He was a conspiracy theorist, and he desperately wanted to be popular but wasn't, so he presented himself as having a Cool Guy's Personality (see: 'your step-mom is hot'). Now, Meghan Fitzmartin wants us to read into that second trait as a facade that Bernard was putting up to deal with the fact he was gay and hiding it, probably even from himself, at the time. Which, fine, it's a perfectly reasonable reading of Bernard (and to her credit, MegFitz has Bernard spell it out a little on page in TD:R), but the problem is...you've just lost one of the two identifiable traits of 'Bernard' and it hasn't been replaced with anything else. And while 2004 in comics was still trying to hold onto the Urban Legends reading for the Bats to an extent (though it was failing), 2022 comics has so long since abandoned it that Bernard having kooky theories about Batman's connection to Mothman or whatever is very...why?

And because both of these pre-existing personality traits are under strain from the context, it really is sort of necessary to give Bernard something else about him for people to latch onto for his personality. And it doesn't really seem to be there yet (as of #6). It's the same complaint that people have about Jon/Jay and a whole host of other partners for recently out superheros: they're generically pleasant, supportive and bland, with about the depth of a mirror. Give me some of the toxic drama the 30 year old lesbians are allowed. Where is my breakup over custody fights with an ex and one of the two getting seduced by a vampire.

[maddys-nerd-blog]

Maddy’s Top Five Favorite Male Characters in Media!

Hi again!!

I was asked an interesting question by @tending-the-hearth in a QNA thingy recently that I thought deserved it’s own post cuz admittedly, this is a hard one!

My favorite characters in media?

You’d be surprised to hear that some of people on this list were easy ringers for this list, but I still had a hard time choosing characters I loved more than the other!

Over the decades we’ve gotten a plethora of incredible shows, video games, movies, books and indie series that have gifted the world a new cast of characters that have won the hearts of millions across the globe. They can be dashing heroes, villainous rouges trying to take over the world, unappreciated side characters, supportive background characters or even blink and you miss them cameos! I’ve come to adore the grand scale of the animation medium and it’s offerings, so making a list like this is definitely not easy.

So for this list I’m doing the following;

One; Only one character per slot with ONE exception but I’ll get there.

Two; They can be a variety of characters ranging in importance. Hero, sidekick, background nobody, villain, supporting characters, etc. Anything goes!

Three; Video games are included!!

Four; Comic book exclusive characters are not allowed only for the sake of keeping the playing field fair. I’ll use added context from specific comic storylines to add onto my reasoning, but otherwise, that’s it.

Five; SPOILERS BECAUSE HALF OF THESE PICKS ARE IN SERIES THAT HAVE EITHER BEEN ONGOING FOR TWENTY YEARS OR ARE FINISHED. Read at your own risk!!!

So… on with the show!!

Top Five Male Characters in Media!

5: Throttle— Biker Mice From Mars. ( 1993-1996 )

A shocking new arrival for a list such as this, but a welcome addition nevertheless! For a little over two-ish months I’ve been watching Biker Mice and have taken a liking to it! What I assumed was just gonna be a knock-off of TMNT with uninspired writing turned out to be a surprising drama with subtle undertones of a darker story behind the gimmick of Martian mice coming to Earth.

Not only is it a very clever commentary on environmentalism and taking care of our planet— especially given the time period this was released with all the Ferngully movies and Captain Planet where they were encouraging eco-friendly movements— it’s also a shocking cartoon given the subject matter and it’s cast of characters. Throttle, Vinnie and Modo? They’re all veterans! And they’re all disabled! But the show never makes jokes or pokes fun at them for their hard comings, it’s treated with respect and the guys are there for one another.

Throttle is the leader of this group, and the leader of the rebellion at one point. He’s shown throughout the show to be this suave, cool headed guy who looks out for his bros, he’s got this kind of swagger to him that radiates ‘cool’ just from a design standpoint alone. Plus it also helps that Rob Paulsen provides the voice and HE SOUNDS SO COOL. As the resident badass in charge he’s always taking point and mostly has a more serious demeanor, but he’s also just a fun guy who wants to ride his bike and chill out with his friends.

Can I just add a side note here and say CAN WE PLEASE GIVE THIS POOR MAN A BREAK??? THE ORIGIN EPISODE OF HOW HE LOST HIS EYES HAD ME SHOOK AND THE NEW INFO WE GOT FROM THE CURRENT COMIC COMEBACK IS FREAKING HEARTBREAKING DUDE. LET THE MAN BREATHE AND EAT HOTDOGS.

4: Harvey Bullock— Batman the Animated Series. ( 1992-1995 )

Imma say this for the people all the way in the back:

NOBODY UNDERSTANDS HARVEY BULLOCK.

I feel like I’m all alone on the Bullock Defense Squad at this rate cuz the amount of slander this character gets by those who don’t bother to A) read his backstory or B) actually go the extra mile to research his trivia and learn what makes him tick, is frustrating. The writers make him out to be this slob that can’t do anything right, but I think that’s unfair cuz there’s more to him besides what we’re shown. Because when you take the time to look beneath all the stupid things people claim about him… he’s so interesting.

Firstly he’s Gordon’s BEST FRIEND. He’s ride or die for that man. Nobody is more loyal to Commissioner Gordon than Bullock. On the outside he might appear untrustworthy but he’s actually devoted to Gordon and his beliefs, even if his methods are more in line with Batman’s. ( Which is ironically hilarious that everyone tries to accuse Bullock of going too far, but when Batman does the same exact thing he’s praised as a hero. Makes ya think. )

Secondly he believes in justice and keeping Gotham safe, but the criminals that reek havoc on the city are so nuts and out of control he feels he has no idea what he’s doing. But the fact of the matter is, he’s wildly clever and intelligent! Look at the episode The Laughing Fish! Who figures out that Joker’s at the aquarium first? BULLOCK. Who beats BATMAN— the world’s greatest detective— to the punch??? BULLOCK!

He’s cunning and sly but in a good way! He uses his wits to solve cases and more often than not, he’s pretty damn scrappy! The audience is just made to believe he’s this bumbling oaf half the time. His determination is strong as hell! My favorite episode in all of BTAS is ‘A Bullet for Bullock’ because we get to see a side of him outside of the main cast that puts HIM in the spotlight. That entire episode is a love letter to the classic noir genre and the SOUNDTRACK??? ITS SO GOOD. ( This episode in particular even won a special award for its music )

He fights for good and tries to do the right thing, but not everyone sees it that way. But I, as the President of the Bullock Fanclub, love him the way he is!

3: Donatello ( Every version )— Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. ( 1984- Current Day )

DONATELLO IS BEST TURTLE 💜

This genius in every version is a lovable dork with a giant heart of gold. I don’t think there’s any iteration of this character that’s unlikeable! Ever since I got into the TMNT I quickly grew attached to the purple goober cuz he’s just so relatable! Purple is my second favorite color too cuz bias Donnie shows that no matter the odds he’s going to do whatever it takes to make his family or friends safe. In every single series he proves he’s a hellishly smart guy who values knowledge over combat, hence why he’s a pacifist by nature.

In 2012 he’s a geeky inventor with a big imagination and utilizes what limited resources he has to craft some of the most amazing things!

In 2003 he’s this gentle teddy bear of a guy who rarely wishes to battle, but if you hurt his family he’ll bring hell down upon you. Plus he’s just a sweetie who wants to keep making things he thinks will help his family.

In the Bayverse films he’s this tall, lanky fellow who yearns to be accepted and has so much wit and charm he’s basically this lovable beanstalk.

In Mutant Mayhem he’s a well meaning kid who wishes he could be a normal teenager, who fights so hard for humans to accept him and his mutant family, who’d an anime nerd and generally nice person.

In Rise he’s a full on menace to society and has so much snark that it could rival that of Hades from Hercules. He’s a scientist that searches high and low for the love and affirmation of a dad who doesn’t care about him, but with his brothers he’s got all the reassurance he needs.

Donnie goes through so much but gets back on his feet to keep fighting, he keeps pushing forward to strive for a better solution, he ALWAYS keeps trying to fix any problem because he feels it’s his purpose. This type of character can be used as a stereotype but in the right hands they can truly shine, and Donnie doesn’t simply shine; he dazzles. It also gives him the edge that in most of the shows he’s written with coded autism traits which… yes, please, more positive autistic representation, more of this INSTEAD OF THE BULLSHIT WE’VE BEEN FED.

Donnie is a kind, sweet, brave turtle. It’s no wonder why everyone loves him so much!!

BUT CAN WE STOP TRAUMATIZING HIM PLEASE, STOP ELECTROCUTING THIS GUY?? THE BABY HAS BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH—

2: Cole— Dragon Age: Inquisition. ( 2014 )

Autism in media has been hit or miss for DECADES. As I previously stated it’s very difficult to find positive autistic characters in our media. Autism is either used as a crutch by writers to make the ‘normal’ characters bring the ‘unaware and helplessly naive’ autistic person into the ‘real world.’ We’ve seen it time and time again and it’s terribly obnoxious. But to the writers who give a damn about writing authentic portrayals of autism, those people deserve special kudos because when it works, they work beautifully.

Case in point here; Cole.

Cole is the most amazing depiction of a young man with coded autism that’s never treated like a punchline or a side effect of his behavior. He’s the spirit of compassion— the living embodiment of kindness in the game. Cole is the way he is because of his past, where the Spirit finds Cole’s original form dying in a cell, and was so moved by his death he took his place to dedicate his life to helping people. And throughout Inquisition, on my first time playing it years ago, I just had to keep pausing the game during the idle companion conversations and go ‘THATS ME!’

The way he fidgets with his hands. The way his speech is so articulate and soft. The way he interacts with the other companions. The way he starts to break down when he’s in the Fade.

That was POWERFUL for me.

You gotta understand. In all my life as a young woman, I NEVER did such a thing. Because in my childhood there were ZERO characters with autism I could relate to! Not until Cole, and this wasn’t until 2019! Sure I’m a woman, but I related so much to him because of his struggles to understand what it meant to be in the mindset of someone who didn’t really understand how the world worked, or how to properly help people. As his title states, his compassion for aiding those who are hurting is infallible… and I’m not ashamed to admit his story arc made me tear up, and I CHOOSE FOR HIM TO ACCEPT HIS HUMAN SIDE IN GAME BECAUSE HE DESERVES TO BE HAPPY.

1: Brook and Pedro— One Piece. ( 1998- Current Day )

The only tie in this list but for good reason. It would feel wrong of me to only put one of these men on here, cuz both of them left a huge impact on me.

Brook saved my life as an impressionable twelve year old. Pedro made my heart break.

I’ve prattled on about my love for Brook previously, but he’s pretty important to me. This skeleton came at a time of my life where I’d been so severely depressed and bullied in middle school that I thought I had nothing to live for. Then I happened upon One Piece and my life was forever changed, but my perspective on the world also did when I got to Thriller Bark and was introduced to Brook.

At first glance you look at Brook and might see a silly, happy go lucky skeleton that sings and dances. But he’s so much more under the surface. He’s the first fictional character in media that made me weep for TWO HOURS.

Brook is a man who has SEEN SHIT. Brook is a man who had to endure so much loss when he was alive and when he came back from the dead. He lost his best friend. He watched his entire crew die. He was adrift at sea for fifty years, isolated from the world, almost going insane several times until the Straw Hats find him. He thinks he’s broken his oath to Laboon until he finds out his still waiting for him to come back.

Brook spends so much time being plagued by his trauma when we first see him that you forget he’s using his jokes as a way to cope, he’s trying so damn hard to keep living for the sake of the whale he befriended. He’s not just a musician with hellishly cool powers or a badass with a sword.

He’s an embodiment of a constant will of push forward.

Keep living, keep fighting, keep surviving and you’ll find your happiness waiting for you. It may not be today, it may not be tomorrow, but soon, if you keep holding to hope, you’ll find your purpose in life and the people who will love you for who you are.

Brook— as crazy as it may sound— became my beacon of hope as a kid.

It’s because of this skeleton I’m still trying to be an artist.

As for Pedro, I met this character much later in life when I was catching up with the series ( I dropped Dressrosa ages ago at that point and I didn’t get back into the story until the end of Whole Cake ) and I was immediately interested in his character and his swaggering design!

Pedro is stoic, brave and cool headed, and he’s quite cautious of his surroundings because of terrible circumstances that have fallen on his shoulders. It’s not everyday you barely escape a Warlord with your life at the cost of a good friend of yours, and then YOU GET HALF YOUR LIFESPAN STOLEN FROM YOU ANYWAY.

Poor Pedro gets put through a wringer!

But as I continued to read the manga and saw how he took Carrot under his wing and made her his apprentice, how he fought so hard to defend Zou from Jack and his crew, his grit to see the Dawn of the Nee World, I was rooting for him to succeed! I wanted him to achieve his goals, I was so excited to see him kick Tomago’s ass! I was so excited when he teamed up with Brook!!

And then he sacrificed himself.

AND MY HEART SHATTERED.

It didn’t help that the anime made this moment all the more gut wrenching with the voice actors of Carrot and Pedro giving it their all and making me tear up like a baby.

His sacrifice impacted the others to keep moving forward and see their mission through to the end, and it gave Carrot her epic SULONG TRANSFORMATION LIKE HOLY SHIT DUDE!!

For the brief amount of time I got to spend rooting for Pedro, I really loved him! He shot right up there in my all-time favorite One Piece characters! Both Brook and Pedro are quite literally the ‘kings’ of this list… and my nerdy heart 🤣

Honorary Mentions:

Tech— Star Wars: The Bad Batch

Garrus Vakarian— Mass Effect trilogy.

Nightcrawler/ Kurt Wagner— X-Men

Ryoma Hoshi— Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony

Vander— Arcane

Cedric— Sofia the First

[tinynerdz360]

Above and Beyond Chapter 7: Boiling Point

Author note: I’m Stopping the use of the Zalgo text so {this means} ={̲̗̳͕̪͇̪̪̒̇̃̿̽̒̿͐̑͗͌͝ţ̷̼̝͎̥͓͚̩̦͔̅͋͆̓ḧ̢̧̙͉͕͉͖̺͚̇͂̀̍̀̓̈́̌͌̚͠͝͝i̶̤̲̊̆́̔̈̈́̍͗͂͋͋̚̚͠ş̷̢̛̭̪͖͕̣͕̬̠͌͊͗̾̓̐͗̍̓́̔̌̊̀͐̚ ̷̢̛̱̳̭̘̼͉̤̻͍͐͋̀̊́̋͆̈́̕͝m̥̩̄̀͗̍̽̏͂̿̇̀͠e̶̢̛̥̱̫̻̖̖͖̤̓̆̒̃͆̿̕͜ā̢̯̣̤̲̲͍͇͈̖̔̐͛ņ̛̟̦͎̯̻̺̭̘̖͓͙̀̊̊̑͂͂̂̆̈́͗̉̎͗̕͜͜͜ͅş̶̟̘̬̖̭͈͖͔̻̩͊̓̋͗̔͌̊͋̿̈́̅̿̕̚ͅ}̴̩̼͂̈́̇̒̿̒͌͑͒͌ ̡̧̭̝͕̬͚̪̲͉͕̰̞̒́̾̾͌͜͝

So when you see speech text with in {     }   this means ghost speak is being spoken.

Also remember Vogal is translating to the rest of the crew as Danny speaks ghost speak. 

~Date unknown~

Amidst the barren plains of the Martian landscape, a subtle change whispered through the frozen ground. The ecto water that lay dormant beneath the surface began to shift, stirring from its slumber as though touched by an unseen flame. The ecto water, once frozen solid for eons, began to thaw.

In the ghost zone, a realm of swirling ectoplasm and spectral energy, a clan of ghostly dragons made their home in a vast, otherworldly lake. Each dragon was a furnace unto itself, their presence heating the ecto lake until it steamed softly, tendrils of warmth bleeding into the air.

Unlike their brethren who resided in the volcano caves of the ghost zone's oceans, these dragons had taken a liking to this particular lake. It had become their favored retreat. The warmth of their fire cores mingled with the energy of the portal, creating a nexus of heat that resonated with the very pulse of the ghost zone.

They circled each other, engaging in playful bouts of aquatic sparring. Little did they know that their presence in the lake, and the heat they radiated, was having a profound effect on the frozen caverns of Mars.

In the depths of the lake, the tiny ghost portal pulsed and shimmered, a conduit between worlds. The heat from the dragons' cores seeped through, traveling across the vast expanse of space and time, seeping into the frozen caverns of Mars. There, in the heart of the red planet, an ancient creature began to stir, its icy prison slowly melting away.

~Present Day~

Back on Earth, one day before Danny's collapse, Teddy Sanders found himself sitting across from President Alfred Davis in the Oval Office. The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air as the two men exchanged pleasantries.

Teddy cleared his throat, his eyes meeting the President's. "Mr. President, I understand the delicate nature of this situation. We need to handle this with the utmost care and consideration."

President Davis leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. "Mr. Sanders, I agree. This is an unprecedented opportunity for our nation, for humanity as a whole. We must tread carefully, but we must also seize this moment."

Teddy nodded, his mind examining the potential implications of their actions. *The discovery of an alien life form, a teenager no less, could change everything. The scientific advancements, the cultural impact... it's almost too much to comprehend. *

"I've instructed my team to keep this under wraps for now," Teddy said, his voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in his stomach. "We can't afford any leaks, not until we have a solid plan in place."

President Davis smiled, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. "Good. We need to control the narrative, Sanders. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and we can't let it slip through our fingers."

*He's right, * Teddy thought, *but at what cost? We're talking about a living, breathing being here. We can't just treat him like a political pawn. * Teddy didn’t like the idea of the kid being used in that way, but if it gained him protection, then it might be their only option.

"Mr. President," Teddy began, choosing his words carefully, "I understand the potential benefits, but we must also consider the ethical implications. This is an intelligent life form we're dealing with, not just a resource to be exploited."

President Davis leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm well aware of that, Mr. Sanders, but we also have a responsibility to our people, to our nation."

Teddy nodded, his expression grave. "I understand, Mr. President. But we must also consider the potential for peaceful relations. This alien kid could be the key to unlocking a new era of cooperation and understanding between our species. If we approach this situation with empathy and respect, the benefits for humanity could be immeasurable."

President Davis leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. *He has a point. If we can establish a positive relationship with this alien race, it could lead to technological advancements beyond our wildest dreams. And the boost to my approval ratings wouldn't hurt either. *

"You're right." the President said aloud. "We need to handle this situation delicately.”

Teddy could see the gears turning in the President's mind, the calculated weighing of risks and rewards.

"I agree, Mr. President," Teddy said carefully. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Our first priority should be ensuring the safety and comfort of our guest. Building trust and rapport should be our primary focus."

President Davis nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Of course, Sanders. We'll handle this the right way. But let's not forget the bigger picture here. This could be the defining moment of our generation, and I intend to make the most of it."

"I'm glad we're on the same page, Mr. President," Teddy said, allowing a small smile to cross his face. "I'll make sure our teams are fully briefed on the importance of treating our visitor with the utmost care and respect."

President Davis leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Excellent. Keep me updated on any developments, Sanders. I want to be the first to know when our alien friend arrives on Earth."

"Before you go," President Davis called just as Teddy reached the threshold of the office. Teddy stopped a sense of foreboding tightening his shoulders as he turned back to face the president. "There's one more thing."

"Sir?" Teddy inquired, masking his apprehension with practiced ease.

Davis leaned forward, steepling his fingers on the polished surface of his desk. "I'd like a picture of our extraterrestrial guest. Not one of him laid out on an examination table, but a nice one. Perhaps one of him with the crew.”

"I'll see to it that the Ares crew gets a picture for you," he relented with a nod, hoping the image would evoke empathy rather than entitlement.

"Excellent!" The president's eyes sparkled, a hint of intrigue surfacing. "And there's the matter of communication. I've been informed some of our people can understand the alien language. How is that possible?"

Teddy recognized the cue, his role as the intermediary once again at the forefront. "It’s an impressive feat. Our linguists are in communication with the astronaut who can understand it. It appears there's a natural translatability, perhaps a universal structure to their language. From what Dantom has told the crew, it has something to do with speaking between souls. Apparently, it’s something we all have the potential to already know. It's early days, but we’re working on understanding this.”

"Have your scientists delve into this. I want that to be a top priority." Davis directed, his fascination palpable.

"Consider it done, Mr. President," Teddy assured, a cautious optimism taking root.

"Keep me updated, Sanders. Every breakthrough, every whisper," Davis said, leaning back in his chair, his demeanor suggesting a man already drafting the future in his mind.

"Absolutely, sir." With a final nod, Teddy exited the room, feeling the weight of each step. He knew that each piece of knowledge gained about Dantom and his kind was as much a treasure as it was a liability. But if navigated with care, it could mean a better world for all—alien and human alike.

President Davis sat at his desk, a triumphant smile playing across his lips as he savored the moment. The pieces were falling into place, and he could already envision the historic speeches he would deliver to the nation and the world.

"Alfred Davis," he whispered to the quiet room, "the man who extended humanity's hand to the stars."

~Ares Crew: Location: Mars~

Danny lay curled up on the bed, his brow furrowed as he slept fitfully. Beads of sweat glistened on his pale forehead. His chest rose and fell in shallow, labored breaths.

Deep inside, Danny’s ghostly core fluttered weakly, exhausted and desperate to conserve energy. It yearned to revert him back to his human form, a reprieve that would allow Danny to rest and recharge. But the boy fought against the transformation with all his remaining strength, terrified of revealing his secret. Bones ached, and muscles spasmed as Danny internally battled his own nature, inflicting further pain and strain on his already injured body.

In the adjoining compartment, the crew gathered in hushed conversation, their faces etched with concern.

"We need to locate that ecto-energy deposit," Commander Lewis said, her voice heavy with responsibility. "It could be Dantom's only chance."

Dr. Beck shook his head. "In his condition, I don't think Dantom can handle a risky excursion. We should focus on stabilizing him first."

"And risk failing our primary mission objective?" Vogel countered. "NASA expects results. We can't come back empty-handed."

"Look," Watney started, his voice low, "we can't ignore the fact that Dantom's condition is deteriorating. We need to find that ecto/energy deposit if we're going to help him."

Johanssen chimed in. "We all want what's best for Dantom. But we have to weigh the risks carefully."

 Rodriguez, his voice firm yet empathetic. "I say we focus on finding that energy source. It might be the key to getting Danny back on his feet. Besides, I don't think I could live with myself if we didn't do everything we could to help him."

Lewis sighed, the weight of command bearing down on her. She glanced at Dantom's still form, her heart clenching.

*He's just a child, * she thought mournfully.

Straightening her shoulders, Lewis turned back to her crew, resolve hardening her features.

"We'll give Dantom a little more time to rest and recover," she declared. But we need to formulate a plan to reach this ecto-energy. I realize we need him to direct us there, but Dr. Beck is right: We need to make sure he’s safe to move about. I won't let this boy fade away on my watch, not without doing everything in our power to save him."

Nods of agreement circled the room. In the med bay, Dantom whimpered softly, lost in fever dreams.

A chime from the computer screen disrupted the somber atmosphere. Lewis moved swiftly to answer, her brow furrowing as she processed the incoming message.

"It's from Mission Control," she announced, a hint of surprise coloring her tone. "They're giving us the green light to pursue the ecto-energy deposit."

Lewis skimmed the message further, her lips pressed into a thin line. "NASA's top priority is ensuring the kid's survival. If the energy source proves too dangerous or time-consuming to retrieve, we're authorized to depart Mars early."

Vogel frowned, concern etching deep lines into his forehead. "Early departure? Is that wise? The journey back to Earth is long and fraught with potential complications."

"Yeah," Martinez chimed in, his earlier frustration giving way to genuine worry. "What if Dantom's condition deteriorates en route? It's not like we can just pop into a space hospital for supplies."

*They're right, * Lewis admitted silently. *Leaving early could put Dantom at even greater risk. But what choice do we have? If we stay and he continues to decline...*

She shook her head, banishing the dark thoughts. "We'll cross that bridge when and if we come to it. For now, our focus is on finding that energy deposit and praying it holds the key to Dantom's recovery."

Lewis scrolled further down the message, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "There's one more thing. The President has requested a photo of Dantom with the crew."

The crew exchanged puzzled glances, unsure how to respond to such an odd request given the gravity of their situation.

***

Danny's emerald eyes fluttered open, squinting against the light. Disoriented, he scanned his surroundings, his heart racing as he struggled to piece together fragmented memories of the events leading up to his collapse.

Seeing his patient's wakefulness, Dr. Beck approached the bed with a reassuring smile. "Hey there, Dantom. How are you feeling?" He began a careful examination, checking the boy's vital signs and assessing his overall condition. Vogal, at his side, acted as translator.

Danny flinched at the doctor's touch, his mind still foggy with lingering fear and distrust. {"I... I'm okay,"} he mumbled, his voice hoarse from disuse. {"What happened?"}

"You gave us quite a scare," Beck explained gently. "Your body seems to be under a great deal of stress. We're doing everything we can to help you recover."

As Beck concluded his examination, Commander Lewis entered the med bay, the rest of the crew trailing behind her. "It's Good to see you awake, Dantom," she said warmly. We have a small favor to ask if you're feeling up to it."

Danny eyed the group warily, his muscles tensing. {"What kind of favor?"}

Lewis held up a camera, her expression apologetic. "The President has requested a photo of you with the crew. A show of goodwill, if you will. But if you're not comfortable-"

{"No, it's fine,"} Danny interrupted, his mind racing. *Why would the President want a picture with me? *

"Come on, guys, huddle in," Commander Melissa Lewis instructed as she sat by Dantom on the bed. Danny sat in the center as the crew arranged themselves around him, each offering reassuring smiles.

"Say 'cheese,'" Beck joked lightly, aiming the camera.

{"Cheese?"} Danny echoed, the word feeling silly on his lips. But the camera clicked before he could ponder it further, capturing the moment for eternity.

Lewis swiftly sent the image off to Earth, her fingers deftly navigating the console. Once done, she turned her attention back to their otherworldly guest, her curiosity overcoming her earlier restraint.

"Dantom, we realized we haven't asked... What is your species called?" Her tone was casual, but the intensity in her eyes betrayed the importance of the question.

Danny's heart skipped a beat, his mind scrambling for a plausible lie. {"Oh, um... we're called... Ecto-Sapiens,"} he blurted out, immediately cringing at the absurdity of the name.

The crew exchanged skeptical glances; their suspicions piqued by Dantom’s obvious discomfort. It’s not that the name was odd, he could have said anything, and they’d accept it, it was the way the teen said it, making them think it wasn’t true.

Mark, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, spoke up. "Hey, Dantom... how do you know about vampires? It's just, well, vampires are kind of an Earth thing, you know? Seems like a pretty big coincidence for an alien to reference them."

Danny's mouth went dry, his palms slick with sweat beneath his gloves. {"I, uh... I must have heard about them somewhere,"} he stammered, his gaze darting nervously around the room. {"You know, through... through cultural osmosis."}

The crew's expressions made it clear they weren't buying his flimsy excuse. Lewis, her brow furrowed in concern, leaned in closer. "Dantom, if there's something you're not telling us... if you're in some kind of trouble... we want to help. You can trust us."

But Danny, his fear and paranoia reaching a crescendo, shrank back against the pillows, his eyes wide and haunted. *They can't know the truth,' he thought desperately. 'They can't find out what I am, what I've been through. They'll turn me over to the GIW, and then...*

Melissa Lewis leaned forward, her gaze pinning Danny like a specimen beneath a microscope. "Dantom," she began, her voice a mix of stern command and tempered concern, "have you ever been to Earth?"

Danny's heart thudded against his ribcage. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself, the lie coiling in his throat. {"No, why would I?"} His voice was barely a whisper, strained with the effort to sound nonchalant.

"Because it might explain a few things," Lewis replied, her eyes not leaving his ethereal form. She tried to soften her tone, to show compassion rather than accusation. "We're not going to be upset if you have. We just need to understand."

{"Understand what?"} Danny deflected, but the pit in his stomach grew as his lies tangled around him.

"Maybe how you got hurt," Lewis suggested gently, though the undercurrent of her suspicion was impossible to miss.

The silence stretched between them, fraught with unspoken questions. Danny's fear ballooned, filling every corner of the habitat. In a barely audible murmur, he broke the tense quiet. {"I... I did get stuck there once."}

"Stuck where?" Watney prodded, leaning in closer.

{"Earth,"} Danny admitted, the word tasting like defeat. {"But I'm scared, okay? If they find out I'm here..."}

"Who are 'they'?" Lewis asked, her brow creasing with worry.

{"The GIW,"} Danny rasped, a tremor running through him. The mention of the name sent an icy wave down his spine. {"Your government... they hurt me."}

"GIW?" Lewis repeated, confusion mingling with horror.

"Ghost hunters," Danny explained, his control slipping as English words tumbled out, unchecked. "They call us ghosts. They say we're non-beings, that we mimic emotions, that we're evil."

Surprise rippled across the crew’s faces at hearing English. Vogal jerked in surprise; he had been ready to continue translating, so the slip into English was very jarring. Nobody pointed it out, instead focusing on the current topic. They could get to that topic later.

"Non-beings?" Beck echoed, disbelief plain on his face.

"Emotional mimicking creatures," Danny continued, his voice rising with a bitter edge. "There’s a stable portal in Amity Park. They watch us, hunt us... And there are laws, ecto acts, allowing them to do whatever they want to us!"

The crew exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from skepticism to outright horror. Danny's hands clenched into fists, his translucent body flickering with raw energy as he spoke.

"Experiments, containment, dissection!" His litany of accusations spiked with desperation. "You don't understand; they'll kill me. And they'll get away with it."

Lewis reached out tentatively, her gesture one of comfort, but Danny recoiled, wrapping his arms protectively around himself. The weight of his truth hung heavily in the air, pressing upon each crew member with the gravity of their newfound knowledge.

"God," Watney muttered, his voice a breathless whisper. "We had no idea."

"Phantoms," Danny whispered, his gaze distant, haunted by memories he wished he could erase. "That's what humans call my kind—ghosts."

The Ares crew sat in stunned silence, grappling with the implications of Danny's revelations.

Danny's breath came in shallow gasps, a cold sweat beading on his spectral forehead. Every muscle in his body was tensed, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation. He could feel their eyes on him, analyzing, judging – perhaps even condemning. The fear gnawed at him, an insidious whisper that they might just decide he was too much of a liability, too alien, and hand him over to the GIW.

"Listen," Lewis said, her tone soft yet laced with an undercurrent of authority, "We're not like them, Danny. We want to help."

But her words were a mismatch for the dread coursing through his veins. Help? Or deliver him straight back to the torturous clutches from which he'd barely escaped?

"Help?" Danny echoed, his voice quivering with a mix of skepticism and burgeoning terror. "Or hand me over?"

"Of course not," Beck chimed in earnestly, but the reassurance sounded hollow to Danny's ears.

A sudden surge of ectoplasmic energy crackled around him, the manifestation of his mounting panic.

As Danny's fear and stress continued to escalate, his powers began to flare up uncontrollably. The air around him crackled with ectoplasmic energy, casting an eerie green glow throughout the room. The crew instinctively took a step back, their eyes widening in a mix of awe and apprehension.

Danny grimaced as another wave of pain washed over him, his body struggling to maintain its ghostly form. He could feel his human side trying to assert itself, desperate for rest and recovery, but he fought against it with every ounce of his remaining strength. Transforming now, in front of the crew, would only lead to more questions and suspicion.

"I... I can't control it," he gasped, his voice strained with the effort of keeping his powers in check. "It's too much, I... I need to..." He trailed off, his eyes squeezing shut as he focused on pushing back the pain and the overwhelming urge to change.

The crew watched in stunned silence, their minds racing as they tried to process the incredible display of power before them.

"Easy, kid," Martinez cautioned, taking an involuntary step backward as Danny's aura flared, casting eerie shadows across the walls of the hab.

"Can't... control it," Danny panted, his voice breaking as another spike of pain lanced through him.

"Nobody's turning you over to anyone," Lewis finally said, her voice resolute, "You have our word."

Danny's glow dimmed slightly, the chaotic energy receding as if reflecting the tentative hope sparked by her promise.

He knew he needed to calm down, to rein in his emotions before he lost control completely, but the fear and the trauma were too raw, too close to the surface.

"Leave me alone," he whispered, his voice hoarse and strained as he curled in on himself, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his arms. "Just... just go away."

Dr. Beck exchanged a concerned glance with the rest of the crew before slowly approaching the trembling boy. He crouched down beside the bed, careful not to touch Danny as he spoke in a gentle, reassuring tone.

"Dantom, I know you're scared, and I know you've been through a lot. But we're not going to hurt you, and we're not going to let anyone else hurt you, either. We want to help you in any way we can."

Danny shook his head, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs as he refused to meet Beck's gaze. In his mind, he couldn't stop thinking about the GIW, about the horrors he had endured at their hands. He knew he could never reveal his true identity as a half-human hybrid even if he told the crew everything about ghosts. It was too risky, too dangerous. His only chance of escape was to make it back to Earth and slip away undetected in his human form, leaving no trail for the GIW to follow.

Beck sighed, his heart aching for the traumatized boy in front of him.

"We're here for you, Dantom," he said softly, his voice filled with unwavering compassion and support. "Whenever you're ready to talk, we'll be here to listen."

But Danny just curled away from him, his body language making it clear that he was done talking.

***

The crew gathered in the common area, their faces etched with concern and disbelief. Lewis paced back and forth, her mind racing with the implications of what they had just learned.

"This is a disaster," she said, her voice tight with stress. "If what Dantom says is true, then the GIW has not only screwed up first contact, but they've also committed heinous acts against an intelligent species. It's a miracle that he's even willing to talk to us at all."

Vogel nodded, his expression grim. "The fact that they tortured and experimented on him... it's unthinkable. How could anyone do that to a child, alien or not?"

Martinez shook his head, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and sadness. "It's no wonder he's so scared of us. If that was my first experience with humanity, I'd be terrified too."

Lewis stopped pacing and turned to face her crew, her expression resolute. "We need to handle this situation carefully. The consequences of our actions could have far-reaching implications for the future of human-alien relations."

Johanssen leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. "What do you think he is?" she asked, her voice low. "A ghost? An energy being from another dimension?"

Martinez shook his head. "I don't know. I've never seen anything like him before. The way he can manipulate energy... it's beyond anything we've encountered."

Vogel chimed in, his German accent thickening with emotion. "I think we need to focus on getting him what he needs. Once we gain his trust, there will be time for more questions.”

Watney ran a hand through his hair, his eyes distant. "What if he's not from our universe at all? What if he's from a parallel dimension, one where the laws of physics are different?"

Lewis stood up, her face set with determination. "Whatever he is, wherever he's from, our priority is to keep him safe and help him heal. We'll figure out the rest as we go."

~Location: Earth~

Thousands of miles away and unbeknownst to the crew, the GIW headquarters buzzed with malicious excitement. In a secure, soundproof room, Agent A hovered over a console with a smug grin as he replayed a sound clip labeled 'Soul speak.' Accompanying it was a high-resolution photograph of Phantom, the vial ghost boy, sitting on a bed with the Ares crew around him.

"Finally," Agent A whispered to himself, a predatory gleam in his eye. "Our mole in the White House came through. With this, we can justify direct intervention." Agent A frowned in thought. Technically, their organization had been disbanded in the 1970s when the higher-ups in the government deemed it silly to give funding to an organization that hunted ghosts. His predecessor had hidden their activity and taken funding without the main branches of government knowing.

Now they would see. It was their duty to educate the president about the evils of Phantom's kind. Look how it mimicked and pretended to be something it wasn’t and tricked those around it. It was finally the GIW's time to shine. He was confident all would be forgiven for taking funds and declaring themselves government officials. They did this to protect the world.

He spun around in his chair, addressing a lacky. "Prepare the team. We're going to DC. Once we explain to the president the dangers of this creature, he’ll hand him right over.  And once we have Phantom, we'll dissect him piece by piece.”

The figure nodded, and Agent A returned his attention to the screen. The stakes had been raised, and a new chapter in their hunt for Danny Phantom was about to begin. He was also confident that once the president learned of the potential use of this creature, he would easily give up the specimen. Before they had lost Phantom, they had been preparing a device that would use the ghostly energy the creature gave off and act as a battery of sorts. Phantom could be used to fuel multiple large cities. He would serve humanity well as their ghostly battery. It would replace fossil fuels and bring them into a new era.

Soon, the GIW would be seen as heroes, and if they couldn’t destroy the evil ghosts, they could put them to use for humanity.

Chapter 8:

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

I'm gonna be annoying abt this for a minute because I have lots of feelings and I'm sure other people can relate- I LOVE HORROR!!! PSYCHOLOGICAL! BODY! INTERPERSONAL! COSMIC! I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!! I LOVE THE VERSATILITY! I LOVE THE THEMES! I LOVE THE DESIGN!* LITERALLY THE ONLY THING STOPPING ME FROM HURTLING OFF A CLIFF INTO THE NIGHTMARE REALM OF GOOD HORROR IS THE FACT THAT IM SO GODDAMN SENSITIVE AND IT WILL MAKE ME SCARED OF THE DARK!!!!

*Ok so I ended up on a whole tirade about horror character design so if you want to read that it's under here

Take Don't Hug Me I'm Scared; The main puppets are masterpieces. Actual works of art. Each of them is somehow terrifying in the most subtle and obvious ways at the same time, all independently of each other and I just have to geek about it because it's incredible.

I'm gonna start with the Red one because he's actually the least threatening out of the main three to me. He makes the most sense to my brain. He's got very normal proportions, his movements are very grounded, everything about him just tells me "oh yeah, weird alien-type dude, cool, got it". But then you look around and you realize... Hm. This dude is big. Like, weirdly big compared to the other characters. It's such a subtle unnerving thing, but it adds a lot to that sinking sense of discomfort. It feels like he's always looming over the others, and that combined with his more naturalistic movements creates the sense that he is somehow fundamentally separate from the other beings in this world. But the puppet-y aspects are unnerving too, just in a different way. At first glance I think his face is the least terrifying out of all of them tbh. Partially because he reminds me a bit of the Martians from Sesame Street which takes him down a notch on the scary scale. He's a very simple design that's easy to comprehend. Then you make the mistake of thinking a little bit more; What's under the yarn?

This is a perfect example of why I admire the designers so much, because they've taken classic puppet elements and made them uniquely nerve-wracking. Red has the classic Elmo-style eyes, placed directly on top of the head with no obvious sockets, using pieces of extra fabric to add eyelids for different emotions. Because they're placed this way we have no idea what his facial structure actually looks like. A lot of the time you can wrap your head around a design by starting with the relationship between the eyes and the rest of their face, because you look towards their eyes first. By taking advantage of that, the designers have created a weird mental contradiction, because the thing that should communicate the most information only communicates the absence of information. It's genuinely amazing.

Duck and Yellow are that "classic puppet feature just a little wrong" dialed up to eleven. I can't even figure out what's so messed up about them in detail because they make me so skeeved out. So here's what I can say- they look just left of muppets. They've managed to hit the uncanny valley within puppet design that's totally separate from the uncanny valley of puppets in general. There is this sense of fundamental wrongness but I can't figure out where it comes from because it makes my skin crawl. It's absolutely brilliant. And I CANT EVEN WATCH IT ALL THE WAY BECAUSE ITS TOO SCARY AND IT MAKES ME WANT TO CRY

And that's just the one I can say the most about because I can look at him the longest.

Anyways rant over I've been thinking about this a lot thank you

[ome-magical-ramblings]

Radionic/Psionics experiment report

This post was inspired by me and my partner's discussion about how radionic works, where the input and the output of the machine was. In the end, regardless of whatever orientation you use the machine it will work, surprisingly or unsurprisingly who knows how it works is beyond me really and for me I see it as a magical altar with adjustable knob. My conclusion out of the experiment is that if you put both the source of energy and destination of energy on left side, it will work and if you put the source of energy on the left and the destination on the right it will be more powerful/stronger. I am thanking the three volunteers who joined this experiment with me a person who doesn't want their name to be mentioned I will refer to as Z, @circlemagick , @ditchdwellersupreme I have personally decided to test how radionic or psionic devices works with working magicians and their feedback on it's influence. While doing this week long practice I tried to avoid directly influencing their energetic body and focused more on influencing a spot in their house of their own choosing. The Machines I am using are built based on Charles Cosimano's radio box and 3 dials machine, you can find both of these devices here: http://www.charlescosimano.com/psionics-contents.html On the left side is generally the input/witness plate and the right side is the stick pad/output. If you're wondering. First Volunteer: Z

Z sent me a picture of his front door, and he gave me the choice to pick whatever source to send him myself. I decided to not tell him and let him write his own feedback on it. I choose The original Lourdes grotto where the Lourdes apparitions occurred. started with the output and input source being both on the left side

Woke up a couple hours ago. I can tell I've been sensing it for a while It's…. subtle But something feels different in the flat, I feel the contrast towards the frontroom Doesn't feel bad. Rather, quiet, meditative, reflective. Cold and moist

I decided to change the setting where the Lourdes is on the left and his front door on the right/output side.

It's different, for sure I can say today is more pleasant than yesterday Which is not to say yesterday wasn't The first thing that comes to my mind is a weird comparison But today reminds me of incense Very pleasant incense I swear to me today it feels as if I would smell benzoin lol I'd say today feels more pleasant than yesterday

Clearly the energy is setting in and building up, I retuned it and decided it to let it sit in even more making sure I give it as much "energy" as possible with this.

I must say it has happened again, yesterday it was more subtle but today I can feel it better In all honesty yesterday I could feel the contrast between the rest of my flat and the front door Today its the same but stronger It feels… quiet again. Tranquil, pleasantly so

Last setting was a new place completely, Hermopolis. I hope by putting this place it might give a contrast to the first one. I mapped the energetic signature of Hermopolis and started the machine again:

his feedback was:

I see! It doesn't feel as tranquil as before It doesn't feel bad either, sort of as if someone was looking at you from afar, but you can't see them

It was not a bad presence, and it wasn't too strong either First day I sort of felt it benefic, or solar. But after concentrating a bit on it I was sure it wasnt solar or venusian/jovial So it was Hermes

Overall Z was very helpful with the initial testing. Second Volunteer: @ditchdwellersupreme

Aiden specifically requested Martial/Martian(?) energy using the pentacle of mars from KoS transmitted to her bed, and I obliged I decided to try by setting first the radio machine(blue) to broadcast the energy toward her, this time starting with her bed's pattern on the right and the pentacle on the left:

Already felt some weirdness haha My left thumb is tingly

After 2 hours:

I definitely feel a lot of Mars rn 😵‍💫

After a full night:

I've been very hot all day and needed more water That's the biggest thing

A Full day later:

Been vibrating with energy

Neutral way Not good or bad Just a lot Woke up, very hot and dry in my bedroom

I decided to change from the radio to the 3 dials machine, since the radio box seems a bit too "pushy" in energetically or it flood a person too much.

Two Days later:

My sleep has been interesting since you set it up Idk if I've told you that yet Lots of waking up and feeling outside of time, but still being rested Filled with energy

I was also way more confident than usual when in that space

Overall it seems like a good experience to me, I didn't even draw the pentacle of solomon for this use, I used a small laminated printed copy of it.

Third Volunteer: @circlemagick

I used the same set-up machine for Z, and she sent me an elemental water sigil I used.

I had time to meditate in the chosen spot a few times before OmE began testing, this gave me a base feeling to compare with once he began sending energy.

The first meditations felt typically familiar; still, calm and quiet, leaving me relaxed and rejuvenated.

Once OmE let me know he'd started I sat back on the spot and began meditating. At first, I had to work through my own insecurities before I could settle. Once I'd released that baggage I thought I could smell the faint aroma of incense, something floral similar to jasmine or rose.

After a few more minutes I felt the awareness of being in a large space, somewhere well respected and quiet. I thought that if I made a noise it would echo and disrupt something serious/important. Once I began to take in this feeling I thought I smelt something old and dusty.

Through the rest of the day the area continued to feel humbling and unaffected by my daily activities.

Later that night, around 22:00pm I felt a strong presence come into the room, as if it was an actual person or entity different to the area OmE had sent. It seemed to watch for a while before leaving.

One thing for sure, trying different settings with @circlemagick seem to not produce different results or seemed a bit "stuck", I don't know why or what's the reason and I didn't want to change the symbol suddenly. Overall I felt comfortable with the results as is.

Conclusion

In the end I asked Z, @ditchdwellersupreme , and @circlemagick if they found benefits from the these experiments and all of them reported it either as fun or found benefit out of it. This whole week-long experiment started with me and my partner both having different opinion about how the radionics worked, but I found it more enjoyable to see what's the perspective of different practicing magicians on their own sensation, feedback, and how they feel with these magical altar with tunable dials.

I give my thanks and regard to everyone who participated in this experiment.

[jcmarchi]

Sand dunes meet stacked ice at Mars’s north pole - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/sand-dunes-meet-stacked-ice-at-marss-north-pole-technology-org/

Sand dunes meet stacked ice at Mars’s north pole - Technology Org

The terrain surrounding Mars’s north pole, known as Planum Boreum, is fascinating. The pole itself is covered in layers and layers of fine dust and water ice; these stack several kilometres thick and stretch out for around 1000 km (approximately the width of France).

Topography of Mars’s north polar region

While most of this material is not visible here, you can see the beginnings of Planum Boreum to the right of the frame, with some subtle wrinkling showing where layers of material are starting to build up. Ground has also built up more starkly in steps, as is most clearly visible in the topographic view of this region below. The lowest altitude regions are blue/green and the highest are red/white/brown.

These layers formed as a mix of dust, water ice and frost settled on the martian ground over time. Each layer holds valuable information about Mars’s history, telling the story of how the planet’s climate has changed over the past few million years.

In Martian winter, the layers are topped by a thin, couple of metres-thick cap of dry ice (carbon dioxide ice) that completely disappears into the atmosphere each summer.

This image comes from the Mars Express High Resolution Stereo Camera (HRSC). Two steep banks, or escarpments, cut vertically through the frame. These mark the boundary between the aforementioned layered deposits (which stretch out of frame towards the pole, right) and the vast, sweeping dune fields covering the lower terrain of Olympia Planum (to the left).

Click on the image below to explore the region and discover more about the different features you can see.

Sand dunes meet stacked ice at Mars’s north pole

Walls of ice

The left part of this image is dominated by a vast, elongated swathe of rippled sand dunes, stretching out for more than 150 km within this frame alone. This wrinkled, turbulent appearance is highly at odds with the smooth and more pristine terrain visible to the right.

This smooth region lacks clear signs of erosion and has avoided being hit by incoming rocks from space – an indicator that the surface is very young, likely rejuvenating every year.

Perspective view of Mars’s north polar region

Between these two extremes sit two semicircular cliffs, the larger of which is around 20 km wide. Within the curves of these cliffs sit frost-covered sand dunes. The grand scale of the cliffs is clear from the dark shadows they cast on the surface below – their steep, icy walls tower up to a kilometre high.

These two cliffs are located at a so-called polar trough, a feature created as wind pushes into and wears away the surface. These show up as rippled ridges in the terrain and are common in this region, creating the distinctive spiral-like pattern of the polar plateau (seen most clearly in the wider context view of this region below, and in other images of Planum Boreum from Mars Express).

A broader view: Olympia Planum and Planum Boreum

Exploring Mars

Mars Express has been orbiting the Red Planet since 2003. It is imaging Mars’s surface, mapping its minerals, identifying the composition and circulation of its tenuous atmosphere, probing beneath its crust, and exploring how various phenomena interact in the martian environment.

Mars’s north polar region in 3D

The spacecraft’s HRSC, responsible for these images, has revealed much about Mars’s diverse surface in the past 20 years. Its images show everything from wind-sculpted ridges and grooves to sinkholes on the flanks of colossal volcanoes to impact craters, tectonic faults, river channels and ancient lava pools. The mission has been immensely productive over its lifetime, creating a far fuller and more accurate understanding of our planetary neighbour than ever before.

Source: European Space Agency

Mars gifts – the best space gifts from the Red Planet, ranging from Mars-themed clothes to genuine, certified meteorites from Mars.

[catelyngrant]

Dynamic Duos that Never Were

For Day Two of the Farewell to Supergirl Week, a look at what could have been/can still be in our minds and fan creations! (Insert “we could’ve had it aaaaaaaaallllll!” gif here...)

With a large and evolving cast of characters, there were a lot of dynamics that never had the chance to be explored. Whether the characters below never even shared a scene or they shared many but had very little meaningful one-on-one interaction, these are a few dynamics that I’d have loved to see fleshed out or, at the very least, really enjoy considering the potential of. A taste, and then LOTS of headcanoning/pontificating beneath the cut.

Thoughts - so many thoughts - below.

Alex and M’gann When M’gann was first introduced it was frustrating that she had so little interaction with the other women on the show, but as the stories progressed and Alex’s arc really leaned into the Martian culture, it made me sad all over again thinking about what we could have had if these two had really had the chance to develop a relationship. They’re so similar in so many ways - in the beginning they’re incredibly hard on themselves, have a low sense of self-worth, have a constant drive to prove their worth (or, in M’gann’s case, her very existence), and are both wary of letting people in but are ride-or-die for them once they have. Their respective relationships with J’onn in particular are interesting - both were built on deceit, on J’onn’s part with Alex and on M’gann’s part with J’onn - and in both cases that deceit came from a place of wanting to protect the other person, shame and guilt (re: Jeremiah’s death for J’onn and her own survival for M’gann), and both only revealed themselves to save the other’s life. In both cases, those revelations eventually led to rich familial (and romantic, in J’onn and M’gann’s case) bonds - bonds that played a big part in Alex and M’gann’s journeys to opening themselves up to letting other people in, beginning to build their own sense of confidence and self-worth, and identifying the role they wanted to play in their communities and their own lives.  I also think that M’gann would’ve been a really great person to challenge Alex’s subtle prejudices and the broad brush with which she’d often paint entire species or anyone, really, that isn’t part of her immediate family. M’gann obviously changed J’onn’s perspective on a lot of things, but J’onn’s prejudice against White Martians was very personal and specific; I would have liked to see M’gann play a bigger role in challenging assumptions for both Alex AND Kara about the experiences different aliens on Earth have had, the roles that they play - or could play - in society, and in turn being a bigger part of embracing Alex into the Martian fold. It would have also been really great to maybe see her be a part of Alex and Kelly’s journey as an interracial couple - J’onn had that lovely scene with Alex in “Blind Spots” discussing going through life in America as a Black man (while acknowledging his privilege in that being a choice he  makes), but I would have loved to see M’gann and Kelly maybe have a chance to connect over existing in the world as Black women, and maybe M’gann being a part of Alex’s growth in that area. Finally, I just would have loved to see M’gann be welcomed whole-heartedly into the superfamily the way that so many other people were - she had some lovely scenes with a lot of characters but her character was really only tied to J’onn. We all know that when Alex decides you’re one of her people, that’s that, and we didn’t get to really see that evolution with her and M’gann specifically. Alex really came into her own over the course of the show - as did most of the members of the superfriend superfamily - and we saw bits of that for M’gann, but it mostly happened offscreen. It would have been sweet to see their friendship and M’gann’s role in the family more defined.

Cat and Nia We know that these two actually do have a relationship, we just never saw it onscreen, and that is such a loss! I have a million headcanons about this relationship - from Nia’s very first scene the Kara/Nia parallels are obvious, so it’s delightful to think that Cat took one look at Nia and saw a nervous young woman with a slightly better fashion sense than her old assistant but otherwise brimming with the same passion and potential that she saw in Kara from moment one. I like to imagine that baby intern Nia made a very timid but pointed contribution in a meeting full of important White House people and Cat just looked at her, turned away, and kept talking, leaving Nia to spend the rest of the meeting terrified she’d just lost her dream gig, only for the meeting to end and as she tries to slink out invisibly Cat snaps her fingers and goes, “You. With me.” and after the most terrifying ten seconds of Nia’s life she hires her on the spot to be part of the speechwriting team. I think they’d actually have gotten along pretty well and worked well together - Cat would have definitely been a strong advocate for queer issues in the Marsdin administration and once Nia had found her comfort zone I think she’d be great about pushing Cat on things like gender neutral language, implicit bias, etc. (It’d take her a minute to build that confidence, but by her second episode she was calling James out so I don’t doubt she’d get there). And the whole time, of course, Cat is grooming her to go to National City and I just feel like she’d get such pleasure out of building Kara up to being this intimidating and awe-inspiring figure that Nia’s desperate to impress and then - well. ANYWAY, though, after all of that, I think that she and Nia would have stayed in touch after she moved, both because Cat takes her mentorship seriously and also because it’s hinted that Nia was the one who came up with the cover story for when Kara was in the Phantom Zone, and she would have had to loop Cat in on that (I may or may not be several thousand words into a fic based on this premise). Knowing Cat’s track record, too, she probably clocked Nia as Dreamer within five minutes of her debut. Post-finale, it makes me really happy to think of Nia being promoted and continuing to thrive as a reporter working for and with Cat and Kara both and being a key part of the team moving CatCo forward and shaping the messages that matter to them. 

Kelly and Lucy

I was thinking about this on my drive home and going through the parallels between these characters - both served in the US Army, both have older siblings with close ties to Supers, both are deeply committed to service and hold their values tightly, and both ended up putting their faith in people and systems/organizations that ended up causing harm (General Lane/his connections to Cadmus and anti-alien initiatives, Andrea and Obsidian) and working hard to try to make up for the harm done. So I was going through all of this and it took me like ten minutes to remember that these two actually probably did know each other when James and Lucy were dating! So that’s cool. I feel like Lucy and Kelly would have gotten along really well back then - maybe they wouldn’t have been super close, just because I doubt they would have shared the same geographical region for long periods of time, but certainly as women serving in the Army there would have been a kinship and respect between them. In my mind, at least, Lucy will definitely cross paths with the superfriends again and I think she’d find it a little bittersweet but would admire the hell out of what Kelly’s done with her life. I think it’s also very likely that Kelly was still closeted when she and Lucy may have known each other previously, so that would be a fascinating conversation for them to have (you will pry bi!Lucy Lane out of my cold dead hands). I don’t really get the sense that being a case worker is Kelly’s long-term career, and it’s anyone’s guess what Lucy’s up to these days, so I kind of love the idea of them teaming up in some professional capacity. Maybe they both a key role in reimagining the military element of the DEO, maybe Lucy serves as legal counsel for the Dreamer Center while Kelly handles more of the social services side of things, maybe it’s something else entirely - I just know I love the concept. 

Alex and Nia

So these two obviously do have an onscreen dynamic, but I wanted so. much. more. There were so many possibilities! First and foremost, I would have really loved to see them develop a sisterly dynamic given the very obvious parallels between Kara/Alex and Nia/Maeve. Kara took on a sisterly role with Nia after she became estranged from Maeve, and that was lovely and I adore them, but Alex’s big sister energy is so strong around other characters and we really didn’t get to see much of that with her and Nia. It also would have been really, really interesting to see Alex interact with someone who’s so similar to Kara but that she doesn’t have the same relationship baggage with. Like Maeve was before Nia’s powers presented themselves, Alex was the golden child until Kara came along; Alex obviously coped much better, but the feelings of insecurity and uncertainty about her own role in the family unit/the world would be things that she’d relate to. I think it would have been fascinating for Alex as an adult to witness - and provide support to - Nia as she coped with her new powers and the loss of her family, and to have seen what that may have brought up in terms of Alex looking back on her relationship with Kara and some of the long-standing wounds between them that they never really ended up addressing. I think Nia could have really found some comfort, too, in hearing Alex talk about her own experiences - it’s one thing for Kara to empathize with her when she’s the direct parallel, but Nia spent so much time feeling guilty about what she “took” from Maeve, and I think hearing from Alex - who would be the Maeve parallel here - that Nia has done nothing wrong would have been meaningful. I think Nia and Alex would also have definitely related when it came to being the sister that spent their life being overlooked in favor of the “special” sister and having complicated feelings about their moms in particular. Beyond that, I would have loved to see Nia and Alex share more of their queer identities! Nia’s obviously more connected to the trans community than Alex is to the broader queer scene in National City, and their coming out journeys - Nia always having known and understood her identity, Alex coming into it much later in life - are so different and would have been so rich for them to discuss if they’d ever dug into it. I would have loved to see Nia introducing Alex to some of her queer friends, taking her dancing at queer clubs, introducing her to queer concepts, helping her find a good hairdresser, etc. That would have just been very charming. 

Eliza and J’onn

We definitely get some content with them, but come on - they now share two daughters, a granddaughter, and a gaggle of quasi-adopted adult children! What’s that like? We know a bit about their history and they’re certainly friendly, but there’s so much juicy potential. How does Eliza feel about how completely Kara and particularly Alex have embraced him as their father figure? Is/was she conflicted about that? Have they ever talked about Jeremiah and what happened after they found him in season two? J’onn made peace with Kara and Alex ages ago, but does he ever feel lingering guilt or awkwardness around Eliza? And then, of course, there’s the fun of it. We saw Eliza nerding out about his alien physiology in season one, but there’s a lifetime more where that came from. I feel like they’d have almost a married couple dynamic where they’re the adults who are “above” a lot of the shenanigans the younger ones get up to, but are also not-so-secretly completely invested. Eliza would nag J’onn to read Alex’s mind “just a little, her birthday’s coming up and she’s impossible to shop for!”, J’onn would try to talk her out of buying the entire Pride section at Target for their first family Pride event but dutifully wear “Free Dad Hugs” t-shirt when the time came, etc. They’d also check in frequently about the kids - Eliza bragging about Brainy’s amazing solution to some science problem she’s spent decades stuck on, J’onn giving Eliza a head’s up that Nia’s had a rough week and could use some mom energy, etc. It would all just be very wholesome and cute. And while this is a bit heteronormative of me, tbh I’ve been into this as a potential ship since season one and I still love that. We know that J’onn and M’gann end up together but they also have very long lifespans, and I think J’onn and Eliza sharing a few decades as partners would be incredibly sweet. 

Runners Up:

Kara and M’Gann - We got to see a lot of the themes that would have played out in their relationship play out in Kara’s relationship with J’onn, so it’s not quite as big of a loss to me as the Alex & M’gann connection, but there are obvious and fascinating parallels: their respective needs to justify their own survival, the sins of their families/species haunting them, and their ability and commitment to inspiring hope and uniting people for a common cause would all have been great bonding material.

James and Clark - We saw so little of this relationship, but it was so formative for James and I would have liked to see what Clark thought of James becoming Guardian, what he thought about him leaving National City and his new trajectory, etc. 

James and Cat + Winn and Cat - We saw Cat interacting with both James and Winn a bit (the Cat and Winn scenes in the season two finale were especially delightful) but oh man, it would have been fabulous to see Cat’s reaction to Winn showing up as a 31st Century superhero named “Toyman”. I’m obsessed with just the image. And we had one really lovely scene with James and Cat where they connected personally, but I think it’s interesting that they both ended up leaving CatCo because they were feeling stuck, and separately rediscovered their roots in and passion for journalism and the power of the press by returning to a place they left behind. It would have been really nice to see them have a chance to reconnect at some point.

Alex and Cat - This is partly me being salty about the fact that Alex spent most of her life desperately trying to keep Kara’s identity concealed and then we saw absolutely nothing about how she felt when Kara decided to tell the world who she was in a global interview with the Queen of All Media, but also, I obviously just wanted Cat to interact more with all of my favorites. They’d clash like hell for ten minutes and then end up as drinking buddies that always wipe the floor with everyone around them. 

Danvers + Kryptonians - This isn’t a duo so much as a bunch of overlapping dynamics that I’m still so sad were never explored in any depth onscreen. We got a little bit of the complicated dynamics between Alex and Clark, but I would love to dig into how Eliza feels about Clark and what their relationship is, or to think about what it might have looked like when Eliza found out that Alura was alive - or, even better, what it might look like if they ever actually met, and how complicated and bittersweet that would be for everyone. So many possibilities - does Alura know that Alex is the one who killed Astra? What would Eliza think of both Alura and Zor-El choosing to stay on/go to Argo City and leave Kara behind? What does Alex think about that? Honestly, this is the Thanksgiving episode we deserved.

[cuttoothed]

Getting this in just under the wire for day 1 of @jonmartinweek prompt “Comfy Jumpers”. I get so much joy from writing these two in s1 and thinking “lol you idiots are going to be in love some day.”

*

Martin knows that Jon doesn’t approve of the way he dresses.

It’s not exactly a surprise. Jon doesn’t approve of much about Martin: his report-writing, his Latin translations, even his very existence seems to irk Jon at times. Frankly, the feeling is mutual. Martin was perfectly happy working in the library, where his boss wasn’t an overbearing perfectionist arsehole, and if he’d been given a choice in the matter he’d still be shelving books and updating the filing systems, not getting glared at for his clothing choices. He’s well aware that Jon never wanted him in the Archives either, but they’re here now, so Mister Head Archivist is just going to have to live with it. They’re both going to have to.

Jon isn’t subtle about his displeasure; it’s difficult to miss his pointed scowls at Martin’s scuffed trainers and graphic-print t-shirts. And considering that Sasha wears jeans and t-shirts some days as well—though admittedly she tends to plain colors or muted prints, rather than retro video game characters—it’s pretty clear that it’s less about the clothes than it is the person wearing them.

Well, Jon can scowl all he wants, because everything Martin wears technically falls within the Institute’s dress code and there’s not a word Jon can say to him.

Martin has always run hot, so as winter closes in and other people are bundling up in heavy coats and jumpers, he throws hoodies over his t-shirts and zips them up only far enough that the bright graphic prints are still clearly visible to Jon’s critical eye.

Yeah, he thinks sometimes when he walks into Jon’s office, get an eyeful of Yoshi and see how you like it.

Jon, for his part, seems determined to outlast the winter in his usual dress shirt and tweed jacket combo. Martin knows that Jon isn’t particularly warm blooded—he’s seen the way the man huddles into his jacket like a tortoise in its shell until the central heating warms the basement up in the mornings—but he still refuses to add so much as an argyle sweater vest to his outfit in deference to the season.

The only concession Jon makes to the weather is a voluminous gray overcoat and a dark purple scarf, which he takes off the moment he gets into the office, regardless of how cold it is before the ancient heating system creaks to life.

And, well, it’s none of Martin’s business if his boss is too much of a pompous arse to dress appropriately for the weather. If he wants to freeze his backside off to maintain his academic dignity, far be it from Martin to intervene. Martin doesn’t feel sorry for him, when he sees Jon blowing on his fingers to warm them up, or briskly rubbing his arms while he waits for the kettle to boil and he thinks nobody else is around. Not in the slightest.

It’s below zero on the day in December when the central heating finally gives up the ghost. Even Martin can feel the chill in the Archives this morning, keeps his hoodie zipped up all the way even when he runs into Jon in the kitchenette. Jon looks miserably cold, his shoulders hunched and his movements stiff as he makes his tea.

“Morning, Jon,” Martin says cheerfully. “Bit nippy, isn’t it?”

“Just a bit,” says Jon sardonically. Somewhere overhead, there’s a metallic clanking as the heating system starts up.

“Finally,” Jon mutters, casting his eyes upward. The pipes creak and clank some more, and there’s an odd whirring sound that Martin’s fairly sure isn’t normal, and then a long, descending groan into silence.

“Oh,” says Martin. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Bloody hell,” says Jon, and storms off to his office. A while later, he sends an email to inform them all that he’s spoken to Elias and the heating is out for the whole building, and that they should all feel free to work from home for the rest of the day if they choose. Sasha and Tim waste no time packing up, but Martin lingers, agonizing over which notes and references he should take with him. He’s never before had a job where working from home was an option, and he isn’t Tim or Sasha, isn’t someone Jon trusts and actually wanted to work with. Martin needs to make sure he gets it right.

At last he thinks he has everything he needs, but still Martin is hesitating, fiddling with the strap of his satchel. Maybe he should just check in with Jon before he leaves, make sure there isn’t anything else he needs to do. Make sure Jon knows I’m going to be working today, not just skiving off.

The door to Jon’s office is standing ajar; Martin taps on it, and pokes his head in without waiting for a response.

Jon looks up as he walks in, his expression startled. He is wearing a jumper. A chunky knit jumper in a warm maroon color, with a Christmas tree and several reindeer on the front. One of the reindeer has a red bobble for a nose. The jumper is oversized, the ends of the sleeves falling past Jon’s wrists.

It’s...incredibly cute, which is not a term that Martin ever expected to associate with his arsehole boss. Attractive, in a severe, unattainable way, sure, but not cute. Yet somehow, here they are.

“Ah, Martin,” Jon says, looking flustered. “I, uh, I thought you’d left with the others?”

“I was—I just wanted to check in with you first, make sure you didn’t need anything. You should head home too, it’s freezing in here.”

“I—I’m perfectly fine.” Jon plucks at the front of the jumper, looking embarrassed. “This is, ah, I bought this for the Institute Christmas party, but it’s surprisingly warm—and quite comfortable.”

“Oh, that’s, uh, that’s not part of your usual wardrobe then?” Martin hazards a chuckle, and to his relief, Jon huffs an amused breath. He raises a hand to adjust his glasses, but his sleeve gets in the way; he pushes both sleeves up to the elbows, and oh no, that’s even cuter.

“No, not—not usually,” he says. Martin frowns, suddenly remembering.

“You didn’t wear it at the party last week, though?”

“No, it’s—it was from the previous year, when I was in Research. It-it didn’t seem appropriate this year, being in a management role. Fortunately I still had it in a box, though I, uh, I didn’t really expect anyone to see me in it.”

Martin feels a sudden pang of something that might be sympathy. He understands how it feels, the desperate pressure to be professional, to be taken seriously, the constant second guessing of what you’re doing, whether you’re giving away something you shouldn’t. It’s hardly the same, of course: Jon’s not likely to be fired for wearing a silly jumper. But...Martin gets it.

“Actually,” he lies, “I, uh, I have to meet with Sophie up in the library later, so I’m around for the day. I was just going to go out and pick up some early lunch. Thought I’d see if you want anything?”

“Oh, ah, where are you going?” Jon asks tentatively, looking surprised at the offer.

“I was thinking of that cafe just around the corner—maybe get some soup and a sandwich?”

“That would be...very nice, actually. If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did,” says Martin, and takes the ten pound note Jon offers him.

“Thank you, Martin,” says Jon, and it’s the probably the most sincere thing Martin’s ever heard him say. He finds himself smiling without meaning to.

“Not a problem.”

It’s too early for lunch, really, but Martin knows Jon never eats breakfast and he missed it himself this morning. He gets two portions of steaming tomato and basil soup and toasted cheese sandwiches from the cafe, and when he gets back, Jon’s found a small space heater to plug in, so his office is marginally warmer than the rest of the Archives. They sit on opposite sides of Jon’s desk to eat, talking about the case that Martin’s working on. It’s the first time Martin’s actually had the chance to properly discuss a case, rather than stumbling through his report while Jon watches expectantly; Jon listens, and asks questions, and even offers some helpful suggestions for Martin’s follow up. It’s...oddly nice.

(Jon also continues to look unreasonably cute in his oversized Christmas jumper, but Martin carefully ignores that.)

The heating gets fixed by early afternoon, and the Archives warm up to the point where Martin can unzip his hoodie. When he drops off his finished case report to Jon’s office, Jon is back in his shirt and jacket, the maroon jumper packed away out of sight. He looks perfectly staid and professional once again. I saw you looking cute, though, Martin thinks, and then tries to pretend he didn’t; he is not going down that route.

Jon glances up when Martin comes in, taking in the “Marvin the Martian” t-shirt that’s now visible beneath his hoodie. Instead of a disapproving scowl, however, he gives a small, hesitant smile.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says as he takes the report, and something flutters warm in Martin’s chest.

Oh no, he thinks.

[ms-m-astrologer]

Transiting Mars enters retrograde zone

Timeline (current events in bold)

Saturday, July 25, 2020, 14:10 UT - transiting Mars enters retrograde zone, 15:14 Aries

Wednesday, September 9, 2020, 22:22 UT - transiting Mars stations retrograde, 28:08 Aries

Saturday, November 14, 2020, 00:36 UT - transiting Mars stations direct, 15:14 Aries

Saturday, January 2, 2021, 19:10 UT - transiting Mars exits retrograde zone, 28:08 Aries

Before I even get started, the main thing I want everyone to take from any of this is to SLOW THE F*$& DOWN. It’s a guarantee that anything you try to start &/or accomplish between July 25 and September 9 will be revisited, when Mars is retrograde - and then, re-revisited, after Mars stations direct.

My #1 source for Rx Zone issues, Martin Bulgerin (www dot biopscinst dot com), has this to say about Mars retrograde:

During Mars retrograde periods, we get to experience how we sabotage our own actions, preventing us from achieving what we desire to do. The ability to express your will-power seems thwarted. The key here is to discover what is keeping you from effective action and changing it. This inner nemesis may be an over active temper, an impatience with planning when you can rush into activity, or simply a lack of awareness that causes you to ignore useful clues. This is not a good time to initiate new projects that require perseverence, nor is it easy to work with others during this cycle.

In a perfect world, we took to heart all the lessons about effective Mars expression, back when Mars was in Pisces. We learned how to be more of a Zen master than a trigger-happy soldier. Unfortunately, this is 2020. As if it isn’t bad enough to have Mars Rx in his own sign, DURING AN ELECTION YEAR IN THE US, we have a series of difficult aspects which transiting Mars is going to “do” three times each: Mars will square Pallas Athene, Jupiter, Saturn, and Pluto, three times each; Mars will also conjunct Eris/Aries three times.

Anyway, here we are in the pre-Rx zone. Issues that we’re going to have to deal with, during the time Mars is actually retrograde, will begin to crop up. Ms M has a strong natal Mars and has seen the writing on the wall, so to speak, for a few days now. I suggest that, if you’re also the possessor of a strong natal Mars (or Aries or Scorpio, or the 1st or 8th Houses), make notes on your planner about issues that crop up. Date and time, like that.

I haven’t gone into detail about the aspects of a planet, in quite some time. If I were you, I would pay attention to the transiting aspects that you may have in your natal chart. For example, I have natal Mars square natal Pallas Athene; I’m going to feel that set of squares very strongly.

You may also want to pay attention to any of the aspects that will trigger something in your own chart, regardless of whether or not you have it natally. The Mars-Saturn square on August 24, for example, will ding my natal Mercury/Gemini.

Finally: a few hours after Mars enters his Rx Zone (03:50 UT on Sunday, July 26), the Moon transiting Libra will oppose him. If we’re awake and aware, we should definitely feel this thing beginning to ratchet up.

Monday, July 27, 21:46 UT - Mercury/Cancer square Mars/Aries, 16:20

Third of three. This is the first non-lunar aspect Mars makes, and sets the tone for the whole experience. From Merc’s point of view, Mars is insensitive, cruel, and selfish; from Mars’ point of view, Merc whines too much and never wants to stand up for itself. My suspicion is that Mars is going to pick up on something unresolved from the recent Mercury Rx (some perceived insecurity), and run with it. Be smarter than that.

Placements affected lie between 15:20 and 17:20 of the cardinal signs Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn; and between 0:20 and 2:20 of the mutable signs Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, and Pisces.

Wednesday, July 29, 05:02 UT - Pallas Athene Rx/Capricorn square Mars/Aries, 16:51

First of three. You never like to see the warrior squabbling with the master strategist. Pallas Athene is telling Mars to follow procedures, perhaps, and Mars just wants to trash everything with his sword. Again, this may “just” manifest as some issue we’ll have to face more thoroughly during Mars’ retrograde.

Placements affected lie between 15:51 and 17:51 of the cardinal signs Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn; and between 0:51 and 2:51 of the mutable signs Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, and Pisces.

Tuesday, August 4, 13:06 UT - Jupiter Rx/Capricorn square Mars/Aries, 19:44

First of three. If I were telling a story (and I kind of am), it’s almost like Mars didn’t like the orders he got from Captain Pallas Athene, so he’s protesting up to General Jupiter. Which I don’t think is “done” in the Army! We could get carried away and overconfident; we may consent to take on some project that is way, way over our heads and/or our paygrades.

Placements affected lie between 20:44 and 22:44 of the cardinal signs Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn; and between 5:44 and 7:44 of the mutable signs Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, and Pisces.

Thursday, August 6, 07:30 UT - Neptune Rx/Pisces semi-sextile Mars/Aries, 20:28

First of three. Much of the reason for the typical Martian bravado and belligerence can be found in the fact that the sign which precedes it, in the Zodiac, is Pisces. Mars/Aries is a reaction to Neptune/Pisces. Mars is essentially trying to banish, or at least cover up, what it perceives as all the Neptunian insecurity. A very subtle situation arises where the two different fighting styles are contrasted. Take good notes.

Placements affected lie between 19:28 and 21:28 of all signs. You’ll probably feel that one of these planets is helping you, and the other is hindering you.

Thursday, August 13, 07:13 UT - Pluto Rx/Capricorn square Mars/Aries, 23:05;  Friday, August 14, 19:40 UT - Ceres Rx/Pisces (8:35) semi-square Mars/Aries (23:35)

First of three, for both of them. Mars is beginning to slow down considerably, giving us this sort of “two-fer” situation to deal with. We all know the mythology between Ceres and Pluto, right? Here, Pluto is the strict, traditional husband; while Ceres is the anxious, overprotective mom. Now here comes Mars, spoiling for a fight. Whatever arises from this, it should be easier to separate the issues during Mars’ retrograde, and address them more appropriately.

Placements affected lie between 22:05 and 24:35 of the cardinal signs Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn; and between 7:05 and 9:35 of the mutable signs Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, and Pisces.

Sunday, August 16, 14:01 UT - Sun/Leo trine Mars/Aries, 24:09;  Monday, August 17, 05:28 UT - Mercury/Leo trine Mars, Aries, 24:21;  Monday, August 17, 16:39 UT - Eris Rx/Aries conjunct Mars/Aries, 24:29 (First of three)

I honestly looked at this situation and thought, “Hubris.” The braggadocio levels are off the charts. I’m thinking about all these so-called “militia” types we have in the US, the bunch of ugly idiots brandishing their guns all the time. And you know what’s really unsettling? August 17 is the beginning of the Democratic National Convention. Expect clown cars, I guess.

Placements affected lie between 23:09 and 25:29 of all signs. Planets in yang signs (Aries, Gemini, Leo, Libra, Sagittarius, Aquarius) will get more of a positive “boost” out of this, i.e., easier to express the energies.

Saturday, August 22, 14:04 UT - North Node/Gemini sextile Mars/Aries, 25:49; South Node/Sagittarius trine Mars/Aries, 25:49

First of three. The trine between the South Node and Mars makes it easy for us to “act up” in ways that have worked for us in the past. And in ways we’ve enjoyed acting up. However, we’re supposed to be going toward the North Node! We have opportunities here to “trade notes” and compare experiences with other people. There are smarter ways to get what we want. And we don’t have to fight all alone.

Placements affected lie between 24:49 and 26:59 of the yang signs Aries, Gemini, Leo, Libra, Sagittarius, and Aquarius.

Monday, August 24, 18:19 UT - Saturn Rx/Capricorn square Mars/Aries, 26:19 (First of three);  Wednesday, August 26, 03:48 UT - Mercury (11:36 Virgo) sesquare Mars (26:36 Aries)

In case you were wondering, this is the week scheduled (as of July 24) for the Republican National Convention. Remember that astrological cliche about how Mars is the gas pedal and Saturn is the brakes? Maybe Mercury can be the backseat driver, snarking out unhelpful instructions?! (This is also when my school district plans on opening schools back up.) There is some absolutely infuriating situation which may be too impossible to extract ourselves from. Alas for us, the revisit of Mars-Saturn, during the retrograde (Sept 23-24), will feature Merc in Libra opposing Mars and squaring Saturn. (However, for the third and final Mars-Saturn square, Merc is otherwise occupied.)

Placements affected lie between 25:19 and 27:36 of the cardinal signs Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn; and between 10:19 and 12:36 of the mutable signs Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, and Pisces.

Friday, September 4, 09:12 UT - Venus/Cancer square Mars/Aries, 27:55; Friday, September 4, 13:15 UT - Mercury/Virgo inconjunct Mars/Aries, 27:55;  Saturday, September 5, 01:54 UT - Sun/Virgo (12:58) sesquare Mars/Aries (27:58)

The final “situation” before Mars stations retrograde sees all the personal planets ganging up on Mars. (The Moon will be conjunct Mars on Sept. 5-6.) This is where Mars has to face facts - the old ways aren’t working any more. Venus is cutting him off, the Sun is backing up Venus (and being snarky about it to both parties), and Mercury is detailing all the ways he’s being ineffective. In the US at least there’s a long holiday weekend for Mars to contemplate all this.

Placements affected lie between 26:55 and 28:08 of the cardinal signs Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn; and between 11:55 and 13:08 of the mutable signs Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, and Pisces.

[jbk405]

Carole & Tuesday was a fun, enjoyable series with some very good music.  Interesting characters (mostly) and very subtle sci-fi worldbuilding.

However it could not bring its disparate storylines together, and instead came across like three different shows that barely took place in the same fictional universe, let alone interconnected.

Carole and Tuesday themselves are in feel-good comedy about kids forming a band and playing music together.  Rising to superstardom while not selling out.

Angela is in a soap-opera drama about the pitfalls of the entertainment industry and the crippling dehumanization it has on child stars.  How isolating and traumatizing fame is.

Valerie, Tuesday’s mother, is in a political pseudo-thriller about compromising your morals for power.  Her story is pretty much “What if Hillary Clinton ran her campaign like Donald Trump?”

Tao has his own fourth story which is....I dunno, sci-fi thriller?  The dangers of brainwashing the populace through AI control?  It never seemed to go anywhere.

These almost never intersect.  Valerie is running for president and apparently leading a morality crusade against immigrants and music that is feeding a cultural swing towards intolerance, but until Skip is hassled and arrested in the literal second-to-last episode the main characters never actually encounter any of that.  They’re never harangued for playing the wrong type of music, Carole is never heckled for being from Earth, it’s just not an issue for them at all.  Amer’s deportation comes close, but even that never manages to bring the two stories together.  Plus, considering that Valerie isn’t even elected yet and at the end we see the cops already hassling Skip -- even storming the finale concert in full combat armor -- it seems like government policy already outlaws a lot of expression.  So what is Valerie even campaigning for, and why is this regarded as a change for Martian politics?

Angela has a new Issue almost every episode that comes up, is dramatic, and then disappears almost without comment.  Her mother used to do something bad when she was a kid, which is why she doesn’t live at home anymore, but what that is is never revealed and after that episode it’s not even mentioned again (Although I am so glad they didn’t reveal Dahlia was a child molester, like I thought they were foreshadowing).  Dahlia reveals on her literal deathbed that Angela is adopted (And is apparently a genetically engineered designer baby which...what the heck?).  After Dahlia’s death Angela falls deep into drug abuse, ODing literally on stage at the Grammy’s, despite never having been shown with a drug problem at all beforehand.

Tao was weird.  Just....weird.

If you ask me, they should have excised Valerie’s plotline completely.  Have her only role be as the Rich-but-smothering-parent that Tuesday is escaping from, with none of the politics at all.  Devote that time towards Carole and Tuesday building more of a music brand and experiment with actual performing.  Put on a few more actual shows.  The best parts of the series were them figuring out how they wanted to sound.

That would give them more time to properly develop Angela’s storyline as well.  Tao could maybe be left in, but as a supporting character in Angela’s story instead of whatever he turned out to be here.

The series was worth the viewing despite its flaws, but it could have been so much more.

[realityhelixcreates]

Dance of the Spheres Chapter 5: Martian March

Chapters: 5/?

Fandom:  Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG 13

Warnings: drugging, kidnapping, forced marriage

Characters: Loki(Marvel),

Additional Tags:  Loki Goes Overboard, But When Doesn’t Loki go Overboard, Mature Reader, Disabled Reader, Political Intrigue

Summary:  

I'm going back to Saturn where the rings all glow

Rainbow, moonbeams, and orange snow

On Saturn, people live to be two hundred and five

Going back to Saturn where the people smile.

                                              Saturn-Stevie Wonder

our rooms glittered. They were faced in massive scale pietra dura stone patterns from floor to ceiling. Gray, black, and white dominated, with a surprising amount of green mixed in, as well as startling pops of orange-red, blue, yellow, purple, and bright pink.

The designs were large and geometric, almost a sister style to the classic Art Deco that you saw on the older buildings downtown, mixed in among the flavorless glass towers and Brutalist boxes that defined the 'modern' era.

This main room housed a delicately carved stone couch and chairs, around a low stone table, and several stone shelves and storage boxes. These were all made of a black stone that held numerous yellowish-green crystals in their matrix, all polished so that the crystals shimmered.

This same stone appeared in the patterns on the walls and floor, as very thin panes on a pale backing, highlighting the colors of their crystals. This, along with a similar black stone with reddish-orange crystals, and a dark gray, large-grained stone that sparkled at any angle, was contrasted against the now familiar creamy white and pale orange. Here and there, inlays of silvery wire brought organic shapes to the mix.

The cloudy crystal made a reappearance in a round, well-lit, domed room Loki described as a 'Solar', even though no sun could reach this place. Instead, the clearest of the crystal had been set into the dome, all of it covering the mysterious lights, creating a bright light source that illuminated the room to something close to midday. The walls were covered in the cloudy crystal, which, in the bright light, shone with veils and flashes of iridescent blue.

On one wall there was a subtle inlay of  translucent gray stone, in the shape of clouds, that shone in splashes of blue and purple. Cleverly inlaid within them were specific pieces of the same type of stone, in the shape of lightning bolts that sparked yellow when viewed at the right angle, but were invisible from others.

He showed you the antechamber that connected your rooms and his, all in black and green. Even the lights were covered in thin panes of green crystals thickly packed in black matrix, casting a dim, viridian light over the whole chamber.

You decided that room was extremely creepy, and you never wanted to be in it.

The bath room was much better, ridiculously large, with a shower just out in the open, a wide counter with a mirror of polished metal, a huge tub carved right into a semi-finished block of stone, and a strange toilet tucked away in a stall in the corner. It was all big enough for you to move around in easily, though you mentioned that you would need a chair for the shower. Loki vowed to have one brought immediately.

But your bedroom was the obvious jewel. Loki puffed up with pride as he showed it off, as if he were the one who designed it. There were jewels in here, bright, bubblegum pink, golden yellow, and apple green in elaborate platinum settings, affixed to the walls. There was more cloudy gray and white crystal in here, with their blue and purple, pink and yellow flashes. The lights were clustered around the ceiling like stars, and the bed was another of the precious rare wooden objects, a four poster canopy bed, draped with a gauzy veil.

Most surprising of all, the bedroom had a window-or rather, a doorway out to a semi-circular balcony that overlooked what must be the main palace courtyard and entrance. When you stepped out onto it, you could see lines of guards-more people than you'd seen in one place since you'd been here. They framed the long, rectangular space every ten feet or so, in bright, brassy armor and sunny yellow capes.

This was clearly a cape kind of place.

It was very strange. You could have sworn you hadn't climbed any ramps, and you certainly hadn't gone up any stairs, but here you were, at least six stories up, and there were more stories above you.

“You must be clever builders.” you said without thinking about it.

“Our engineering capabilities are the envy of the galaxy, it's true.” Loki boasted. You believed him. All around the courtyard more balconies jutted out. Several dozen feet to the side of yours, the balcony you assumed must belong to Loki was connected to another large balcony on the opposite side by an elegant walkway, supported by slender pillars. There was a round platform in the center, and red curtains obscured the balcony on the other side.

“We can address large crowds from there, or call emergency meetings of the guards, or the other high nobles.” Loki said, following your gaze. “That's who lives on this floor. Myself, my brother, all of the most important Asgardians, and now you.”

But not for long, if you had any opportunity. “Uh, I'm honored.”

“How do you like them, though?” he pressed, “Is the décor to your liking? The size? We've been working on it for months, but we can still change things if you need.”

“Months?” you gasped, shocked. “You guys did all this in just months?”

Asgard had come to Earth a little under two years ago, decimated and begging for assistance. Thor led them, but no one knew Loki had come along. Thor himself served as his own liaison to the United Nations, bringing his case before the leaders of Earth, to secure a place for his people.

Obviously, it had worked. Thor's reputation and high-profile friends, as well as his surprisingly diplomatic and optimistic outlook had both charmed and discombobulated most people who spoke to him. People liked and respected him, but no one expected him to be savvy.

It had worked out very well for him and his people. They had secured some secret land that the entire U.N. had remained tight-lipped about. Then, a few months in, Thor had stopped making appearances, leaving Earth-Asgard relations to his advisors; an abrasive, undiplomatic woman whom you loved to watch, and a stoic and imposing man with unsettling eyes. Rumors flew for a while, but you hadn't paid much attention. There had been so much to fight for at home.

Did anyone even know you were gone? You were supposed to attend a march tonight. Or last night? You didn't know how long you had been asleep. Surely someone noticed you were missing.

But if they did, how would you even know?

“-harness the sun's energy over the long rotation period so that we can build even more efficiently.” Loki was saying. “We've done an admirable job for such a reduced population, but there is so much more to do.”

“And you took them away from that to build this for me?”

“I took them away from this to build special chambers for the princess of Asgard.” Loki corrected, “It was not a waste, nor was it superfluous. It was for someone important.”

“I'm not.” you insisted, “I'm just some rando they snatched up and tossed at you. I'm not princess material.”

“I will find out what is behind this.” he said, “But until I can, I want you to feel comfortable here. This is all yours now, and more.”

You couldn't, you couldn't allow yourself. You weren't supposed to be here. It was only a matter of time before this mix up was discovered, and a swap was arranged. You'd go home, and some other woman would take your place.

How horrible.

“But is everything to your liking? Do you need more light? More space? Is the bed all right for your leg? A good height?”

You were more than a little wary about getting into bed with him here, but as you hobbled over to it, he remained at a distance. You sank onto the plush mattress, with it's silky green sheets and thick comforter. It was very nice, soft and smooth, and warm, despite being placed on solid stone. Hopefully the blanket would ward off the slight chill that followed everywhere you had been so far.

“It's a good height,” you said, “especially if I get a new cane.”

“Excellent. Would you like to see my quarters?' he asked, “You may come and go between them as you please.”

Which meant that he could too. You didn't find that reassuring.

“Uh...isn't that, um, inappropriate?” you asked, casting about for any reason to refuse. “We haven't even, um, there hasn't even been a wedding!”

He paused, then his face broke into a beautiful, glowing smile. “Of course. I understand. You want that big celebration, naturally. Well, it is only fair, isn't it?” He sat down on the floor next to your bed, as if forgetting that he was a prince and a god, a powerful figure, abandoning his dignity to sit on the floor like a child.

“Do you want to plan it, or leave it to the advisors? Asgard is very good at grand weddings, but if you've had some specific plan for it, I'm sure we can accommodate it.”

“Uh...” This would be the perfect opportunity to stall. You could buy so much time with this! “I would like to plan it. There's things I've been wanting to do since I was a little girl. It would be a dream come true, to plan my own wedding.”

Not strictly true. Certainly, as a little girl you had contemplated flowers and a dress. There being a groom was far less important.

“Then begin any time you like.” Loki said warmly. “I'll have notebooks brought to you, and you can plan out whatever you want. Whatever it is, we can do it for you.”

You almost felt bad for what you were going to do, but on the other hand, you didn't trust him and his terrifying adoration, and horrible power over your life and safety. You'd make as many impossible demands and take up as much time as you possibly could. If it kept you safe. If it kept you from the nightmare scenario.

“I will have your bathing chair brought. You seem tired; shall I have dinner brought to you? We can dine in your audience room. We can have you measured for a new prosthetic, and for a new cane as well. The artificers will set to work on them immediately.”

“Um, sure. That sounds fine.” Dinner would be welcome, after only one apple and one cup of water. And a new, higher tech leg and cane might help you escape faster. You should take every opportunity available to you.

Loki helped you out to the largest room, with it's bookshelves and seating, and saw that you were comfortable. Then he bid you stay put and wait for a bit, while he got everything set up. You were in no shape to try for an escape right now; you would just bide your time.

You waited patiently, taking in the details of the beautifully precise stonework that made up your new-temporary-living quarters. What incredible workmanship. Shame it had been wasted on you.

Maybe someone else would have been thrilled. To have wealth and power, security and luxury, a handsome prince just handed to them with no effort on their part at all. That wasn't what you wanted though; you didn't want to join the lucky ones. You didn't want to be lifted out of your hardships and set above your peers, you wanted those hardships to be eliminated for everybody. You didn't want to be a social climber, you wanted a more equitable society. This fantasy was worthless to you. It had all been done without your consent.

A quiet knock on the door grabbed your attention. You didn't answer immediately, and the knock was hesitantly repeated.

“Um, come in?” you called.

The two adolescents you had run off before cracked the door open and peeked their heads in.

“Your highness?” the girl asked.

“May we enter?” the boy finished.

“Yeah, come in. I'm in a better mood now.” you said calmly. No need to be rude to them now that she knew what was going on. If Loki hadn't even known about the kidnapping, there was no way these kids were in on it.

“We were sent here to get measurements?” the boy-Andvarri wasn't it-asked shyly. “For a prosthetic leg, and a cane?”

“Yes, I was told you might be coming. I'm sorry about earlier: I was very disoriented and confused.”

“No harm done, your highness. This won't take long.”

The girl-Bjarkehilde-helped you stand as Andvarri took several measurements and asked about your preferences in weight and materials, flexibility and points of articulation, even colors and decorations.

They were going to put in a lot of effort to help you escape. A fine efficient leg, a sturdy lightweight cane, and Bjarkehilde even asked about what kinds of medication you needed, and for what.

Bjarkehild was surprisingly close to your height and build as well. That stayed in the back of your mind for a while after the two of them left.

As the minutes passed, you began to realize that you were going to need some kind of clock. You had no idea what time it was. There was no visible sunlight, the lights in your rooms hadn't changed at all, and no one had mentioned it at all. How did the Asgardians know? Was some kind of internal timekeeping part of their natural abilities?

Maybe it was the nebulous grasp of time, maybe it was the fading adrenaline and setting in of weariness, maybe it was residual drugs working their way out of your systems, but you began to feel strange as you waited for Loki to return. Either you felt hot, or the slight chill that was prevalent in this place was getting worse. Perhaps you had been staring at the artistic walls for too long, because the colors seemed to be vacillating between painfully saturated, and fuzzy at the edges.

It seemed to take forever for Loki to return, carrying a tray of food and drink. This he set on the lovely stone table before you, and then took a seat in a nearby chair.

“You must be ravenous by now.” he said, and you were. You leaned forward to inspect the offerings. The metal tray was filled with small stone bowls and plates, and two small cups of liquid. Was this how meals were traditionally served in Asgard? A great variety of small portions?

One of the cups turned out to be orange drink, from powder. You recognized that taste from your childhood. The dry air had made your tongue rough, and the acidic flavor was a blast on your tastebuds, as bright as the colors on the walls. The second cup was some kind of brown broth, possibly also from powder, as it got thicker at the bottom of the cup. There were dried apricots, soaked in honey, and dates, a barley porridge with a swirl of honey and a dash of cinnamon. There were common Saltine-type crackers that went with a very strange stew that looked like it was made, not just with re-hydrated vegetables, but re-hydrated meat as well. It tasted fine, but the texture left something to be desired.

You barely noticed. You wolfed it all down as Loki just sat and watched, having brought nothing for himself.

“I see you needed the fuel.” he commented, after every bite was gone. “Yes, I think you will need it. Beloved, I must tell you something about that apple you ate earlier. I can see it's effects are starting to take hold. Like I said earlier, I had thought to feed it to you slowly.”

“The apple? What...what's it doing to me?” Beloved? He was taking things a bit far, wasn't he? But you definitely were feeling weird. Uncomfortable. “I had just woken up and I didn't know where I was, or what was going to happen. I didn't know where my next meal was coming from.”

“And I understand that now, as I did not then, or I would have refrained from putting it out at all. But it's too late now. For several things. We will simply have to adapt and endure.”

“Endure?”

“I will not leave your side, you may count on that.” He promised. “But that was a special apple. Its tree came from a cutting, taken from a remnant grove in Vanir territory, as part of their peace treaty with us. A sacred tree whose fruits provided the Vanir with ageless warriors. For us, they heal terrible wounds and sickness. But for you, they are known as the Apples of Immortality, and they confer a great gift indeed. But it is not without price.”

You doubled over in pain.

[saiilorstars]

Star Crossed

Previous Story || Current Masterlist

Chapter 2: Partners in Crime

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Female OC

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother

(Minerva’s face claim: Victoria Camacho)

(Kaeya’s face claim: Michelle Trachtenberg)

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter summary: It’s Christmas on the Titanic, the perfect setting for Minerva’s and the Doctor’s first date..until there’s a count-down for the ship to crash land on Earth.

"I've really got to go," Minerva giggled endlessly as she received yet another kiss on her lips by her dear Martian.

"Why?" the Doctor nearly whined, refusing to let her go anywhere for the moment.

The two were in Minerva's room, Minerva just having woken up and moved down to the bed's foot, still laying on her back with the Doctor beside her. He was propped up on his side with an elbow to support his head. She'd been greeted as usual with her milkshake the moment he had walked inside her room.

The Doctor had finally learned how to use that blender and was allowed to freely use it, but only the blender. Minerva wasn't very fond of him being in the kitchen alone and had practically forced him to sit down while she explained each and every button on the blasted blender. Though it took a little longer than she expected due to the Doctor's lack of attention. In his defense, he was busy staring at her instead of the blender...but really, could he be blamed? Minerva simply elbowed him and forced him to listen again...and results arose a few months later.

He always had a breakfast milkshake ready to go for when she woke up. It conflicted him having to spend some hours alone because he didn't need as much sleep as Minerva did. So when the time she usually woke up neared, he'd go in and make her the milkshake. And now that she was awake and wanted to leave...well...he wouldn't stand for that. Especially when there was a James Mulvoy involved.

The Doctor severely disliked him.

"Come with me instead," he insisted.

Minerva put a hand in front of her mouth before he leaned down to kiss her again. "I just graduated," she reminded him, "And I still need to go pick up my diploma. Gotta have some proof I finally finished, right?"

"Well, yes, but that would imply you having to go see that guy again," the Doctor grumbled.

She giggled again, watching his face turn into a frown and a pout in less than a second. She knew exactly who he was talking about and why he didn't like the guy...James Mulvoy.

James Mulvoy was truly her favorite friend from high school. She joined a club of self-defense where he was an assistant to the actual teacher. The two had immediately hit it off and become close friends, even sharing some of the courses Minerva took on her Independent Studies. As soon as the Doctor had heard about this guy...he had expressed his dislike of the man. In reality, James had no other interest in Minerva except for friendship, as stated repeatedly by Minerva. But the Doctor wouldn't take a chance on him, no sir. He nearly punched Jerome back in 1969 but had to remember Minerva wasn't technically his and had to force himself to calm down. But now that they were finally together and could openly show his dislike for any other men that tried to make a move on her, he took great action.

"Come with me, then," Minerva offered, seeing it as a very easy way to solve the Doctor's silly jealousy feelings.

"I wish, but I've got to go to that Adipose institution, remember? Why don't you come with me and we go pick up the diploma tomorrow, instead?"

"I said I would stop by today, remember? I promised James."

And another round of frowns came from the Doctor, "So? blow him off."

"Okay, just because you're jealous, doesn't mean I have to be rude. I said I was stopping by today and I'm gonna, so button it up and let me get dressed."

The Doctor opened his mouth to make another attempt when she grabbed his tie and pulled her down to plant a big kiss on his lips. She giggled when she pulled away and saw his dazed look, taking advantage and jumping off the bed as fast as she could before he snapped back to reality.

"That...that was cheating!" he sat up, frowning as he saw her going to her closet.

"No, I call it simply kissing my Martian boyfriend. It's not my fault you're very easily distracted," she winked at him.

"Please don't go," he sighed, genuinely asking her because he truly didn't want to take the chance of her and James.

Minerva chuckled, pulling out a green dress and studying it, "I told you, come with me."

He stood up and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and stopping her from studying her dress, "Okay, tell you what, you come with me to the Adipose and I'll accompany you after to get your diploma."

"Will you be done by five? Because James said he'd only be there until five."

"Mm...yes," he rested his chin on her shoulder. There was a small smirk on his face that Minerva was unable to see yet she guessed it was there.

"I mean it, Doctor. I worked severely hard for this and I really want to hold my diploma and see my work pay off," she turned around, the Doctor's smirk fading when she saw her genuinely pleading him.

The pair had desisted many trips over the course of several months so that Minerva could focus more on her schoolwork, the woman tired of being unable to graduate due to the lack of credits. So the Doctor had offered to help her, stopping many of their trips until she finished a certain amount of work to where she could finally make some progress. Finally, after five months, she finished. She finally finished, took her exit exams and graduated. Minerva worked so hard for it and the Doctor would not allow his jealousy get in the way of her happiness.

"Okay, I'll be done by five and if not, then you go on without me to pick your diploma," he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Really?"

"Yes, really, you deserve it."

"Thank you!" she beamed, leaning up and pecking his lips, "Now get out! I gotta change!"

He smiled, leaning down to kiss her more deeply, "I'll be waiting."

She blinked as he pulled away, "Okay..." she mumbled, "...get out, now, please."

The Doctor, satisfied with his effect, turned and walked out of her room. Minerva slowly came around, remembering the task of taking out her clothes. She hated when that happened...and yet she liked it. Every time she forgot what to do it was because she had been kissed by her Martian and that was a lovely feeling that she would never give up.

~0~

Elsewhere, Donna Noble walked down a crowded street of London, carrying a red clipboard. She stopped at a high building, looking up at it. Before going towards it, she looked around. She needed to. She always did when she was up to these sorts of things because perhaps, just maybe...a certain pair would be around as well, doing the same thing she was doing...

~0~

"You know, grandma said Marisol is taking those pills," Minerva was saying as she and the Doctor, hand-in-hand, walked up to the same building of Adipose Industries, "And apparently, the woman has lost twelve pounds. Maybe I should try them..."

"Don't you dare," the Doctor warned, shaking his head.

"Oh c'mon, ever since I've tried teaching you how to cook I've gained some weight," she mumbled, looking down to her stomach, "If the industry turns out to be okay I don't see why not..."

"Bring a weight-loss product into the TARDIS and I'll chuck it out to a black hole," he gave her a sharp look. He looked her over, finding her just perfect as she usually was, "You're fine."

"You're just saying that," she rolled her eyes, "Bet if you take a look at Marisol you might reconsider your relationship choices."

"Your snooty cousin has got nothing on you, dear," he kissed her cheek, "Personality wise and physically," he used the sonic on the fire exit of the industry building.

"Subtle," Minerva remarked after sparks flew out from the door, "But I'm serious! You've never met Marisol in person-"

"And I don't want to," he cut her off with haste, pulling her inside the building.

Marisol Souza was probably the most snooty, conceited, rudest person he had ever heard of. And that was just what he picked up from Minerva's and Isadora's stories. Marisol was two years older than Minerva and was apparently lurking her way into Minerva's home, specifically to her mother. While Minerva still hadn't seen her parents, nor talked to them via phone, Minerva was well informed of everything that went on with them. Apparently, her mother had recently taken a great like to Marisol, trying to morph her into what Minerva had rejected years ago. The Doctor knew that despite Minerva's assurances she wasn't bothered her mother had taken what could be called a surrogate daughter, she was very hurt. Hurt that her mother had chosen to take a girl that wasn't even her own to treat as a daughter better than Minerva. She was hurt that when her mother did make a call it was only to inform her of what Marisol had done and how Minerva should be doing it as well.

That mounted another layer of hatred the Doctor felt for Sophia.

Minerva wasn't letting it go, she felt she had to work to earn her mother's forgiveness, something he had just barely gotten her to let go with Isadora. After the traumatizing experience with the Master, Minerva felt like she could lose her family at any moment and for some inexplicable reason had decided to try and earn her mother's forgiveness, despite the Doctor continuously telling her Olivia's death wasn't her fault. But unlike Isadora who never blamed Minerva, Sophia did not care how she affected her only daughter.

And the Doctor despised the woman for it.

~0~

Donna Noble sat inside a lecture room, listening to Miss Foster, head of Adipose Industries, who was stood on a platform.

"Adipose Industries. The 21st century way to lose weight. No exercise, no diet, no pain. Just lifelong freedom from fat. The Holy Grail of the modern age. And here it is," Miss Foster held out a red and white capsule to the listeners, "You just take one capsule, one capsule, once a day, for three weeks. And the fat, as they say..."

"The fat just walks away."

"Excuse me, Miss Foster, if I could?" a young woman, a journalist, raised her hand, "I'm Penny Carter, science correspondent for The Observer. There are a thousand diet pills on the market, a thousand con men stealing people's money. How do we know the fat isn't going straight into your bank account?"

"Oh Penny, if cynicism burnt up calories, we'd all be as thin as rakes. But if you want the science, I oblige," Miss Foster gestured to the computer who began to speak and explain.

"Adipose Industries. The Adipose capsule is composed of a synthesized mobilizing lipase, bound to a large protein molecule. The mobilizing lipase breaks up the trigycerides stored in the adipose cells, which then enter..."

~0~

Meanwhile, the Doctor and Minerva were hearing everything from above inside a projector room. The Doctor showed the psychic paper tow the handler of the projector, "Health and Safety...Film department."

~0~

"100 percent legal, 100 percent effective," Miss Foster finished the presentation.

"But, can I just ask, how many people have taken the pills to date?" Penny asked.

"We've already got one million customers within the Greater London area alone. But from next week, we start rolling out nationwide. The future starts here. And Britain will be thin."

~0~

Later on, Donna walked down the call center of the industry, plopping down in an employee's, Craig, section where he was currently speaking on the phone, "That's a three-week course of pills for a special price of 45 pounds."

"Donna Noble, Health and Safety. Don't mind me," the ginger whispered.

Not too far away, Minerva and the Doctor approached another employee, Clare, who was also speaking on the phone, "We deliver within three working days."

"John Smith, Minerva Souza, Health and Safety. Don't mind us," the Doctor whispered as they took a seat beside the woman.

Clare nodded, giving the Doctor a rather longer look for Minerva's taste.

~0~

"The box comes with 21 days' worth of pills, a full information pack, and our special free gift, an Adipose Industries pendant," Craig went on with his current phone call, Donna watching him intently.

~0~

"It is made of 18 carat gold, and it's yours for free. No, we don't give away pens, sorry. No, I can't make an exception, no," Clare also continued with her phone call except she was still looking at the Doctor.

Minerva crossed her arms, her face beginning to turn into a glare, all unnoticed by the Doctor of course. His obliviousness hadn't really changed much...

~0~

Donna was putting a pendant into her pocket, "I'll just need to keep this for testing. And I just need a list of your customers. Could you print it off?"

"Suppose so," Craig said.

"Where's the printer?"

"Just over there, by the plant."

Donna stood up, looking for the printer, "Which plant, that plant?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Lovely," and she sat down...when the Doctor stood up from Claire's cubicle.

"That's the printer there?" he searched for the printer.

"By the plant, yeah," Clare nodded.

"Brilliant," he sat down.

Then Donna stood, "Does it need a code? Last place I worked, the printer needed a code."

"No, I can do it from here," Craig said and she sat down again...

The Doctor stood right back up, "Has it got paper?"

"Yeah, Jimbo keeps it stocked."

Miss Foster walked into the call center, two bodyguards behind her, "Excuse me, everyone, if I could have your attention," everyone stood up save the Doctor, Minerva and Donna, "On average, you're each selling forty Adipose packs per day. It's not enough. I want one hundred sales per person per day. And if not, you'll be replaced. Cause if anyone is good in trimming the fat, it's me. Now. Back to it," with that she turned on her heels and left.

"So could you print that out, please," Minerva ordered Clare, her arms still crossed and her attitude very cold as the woman's eyes had lingered far too much on the Doctor. She just wanted to get the hell out of there with her Martian.

"So if you could just print off that list, I'll get out of your way," Donna smiled and stood up, "Lovely! Thanks, then. See you!" she walked over to the printer.

Clare had also finished making the print, "Thanks, then," the Doctor was able to say as he stood up, only to have Clare push him back down to his chair, "Oh, what's that?" he took a small paper from Clare.

"My telephone number," Clare smiled.

"What for?" the Martian was genuinely confused, he most certainly didn't need her phone number nor Minerva.

"Health and Safety. You be health, I'll be safety," Clare smirked.

"That's it," Minerva stood to her feet, the Doctor immediately grabbing her arm.

"Aah. Aah. But. That contravenes ah, paragraph five, subsection C. Sorry," the Doctor also stood, his grip on Minerva tightening, "And plus, I've already got my own Safety," he shot a wink at Minerva who blushed in return, "And she's gorgeous so no thank you."

"I could've taken her down, you know," Minerva informed as they walked.

He smiled, kissing the top of her head, "I know."

~0~

"Stacy Campbell?" Donna asked when the door opened to one of the customers off the Adipose list.

A woman with brown hair and blue eyes, slightly confused, asked, "Who wants to know?"

"My name is Donna, I represent Adipose Industries," Donna flashed a card quite quick, "And you're on the list of our valued customers."

~0~

On another street, the Doctor knocked on a different door, doing his best to hide his frown when a man with grayish hair and blue eyes answered. Minerva had gone off for her diploma, on her own unfortunately. His mind was like a battle station with the red flags and alerts going off.

He severely disliked James Mulvoy.

"Mr. Roger Davey, I'm calling on behalf of Adipose Industries," he flashed the psychic paper to the man, "Just need to ask you a few questions."

~0~

"It's been fantastic. I've started the pills on Thursday. Five days later, I've lost eleven pounds!" Stacy Campbell was telling Donna while she checked her self in a mirror, Donna sitting across her.

"And no side effects or anything?"

"No, I feel fantastic. It's a new lease of life. Now, what d'you think of these earrings, do they work?" Stacy pulled back her hair to allow Donna to see purple, dangly earrings.

"Yeah, lovely."

~0~

"I've been on the pills two weeks now, I've lost fourteen kilos," Roger explained to the Doctor, the Martian pacing casually as he listened.

"That's the same amount every day?"

"One kilo exactly. You wake up, and it's disappeared overnight. Well, technically speaking, it's gone by ten past one in the morning."

The Doctor stopped pacing and looked up, "What makes you say that?"

"That's when I get woken up. Might as well weigh myself at the same time."

~0~

"You going on a date?" Donna asked, still watching Stacy fix herself in front of the mirror.

"I'm doing the opposite. I'm dumping him. I can do better than him now. Right, I won't be long. If the taxi beeps, give me a shout," Stacy rushed up the stairs.

~0~

The Doctor and Roger were outside Roger's home, looking up at the security alarm placed on top of his door.

"It is driving me mad. Ten minutes past one, every night, bang on the dot without fail, the burglar alarm goes off. I've had experts in, I've had it replaced, I've even phoned Watchdog. But no, ten past one in the morning, off it goes."

"But with no burglars?" the Doctor asked, not quite believing this was a 'burglary' dilemma.

"Nothing. I've given up looking."

"Tell me Roger, have you got a cat flap?"

A couple minutes later, the two were on the floor studying the cat flap of Roger's house.

"It was there when I bought the house. Never bothered with it. I'm not a cat person," Roger said, "They're nice and all but I never bothered."

"Kittens are nice," the Doctor said absently, "Very adorable," he thought back to the times he and Minerva had seen the adorable kittens, though poor Minerva couldn't get anywhere near them as she started with a fit of sneezing. He'd have to fix that allergy some time soon.

"It's that what it is then? Cats getting inside the house?" Roger asked.

"Well, thing about cat flaps is that they don't just let things in, they let things out as well."

"Like what?"

"The fat just walks away..." the Doctor reminded them, guessing it was probably more literal than the humans supposed.

~0~

"Won't be long!" Stacy shouted from the bathroom.

"That's alright!" Donna called from her spot in the living room. She pulled out the Adipose pendant she'd taken and started playing with it, twisting it.

Up in the bathroom, Stacy's stomach started moving, producing odd noises.

~0~

"Well, thanks for your help," the Doctor stepped out of Roger's home, "Tell you what, maybe you could lay off the pills for a week or so..." a device in his pocket started beeping. He took it out, "Ooh, gotta go, sorry," he ran off to follow the signal.

~0~

An Adipose broke off from Stacy's belly, the woman's eyes widening with horror.

"You all right up there?" called Donna from downstairs.

"Yeah..."

~0~

A second Adipose jumped out of Stacy and onto her sink, both it and the first waving at her.

"What? What are you? What are you?" Stacy could only stare at the little things on her sink. More bumps appeared and disappear all over her body, the odd noises emerging again.

Donna had started making her way up the stairs, "I like what you've done in the hall. Stacy? Are you all right? I wouldn't mind a little visit myself. Everything all right in there?" she knocked on the bathroom door, "Only me. Do you mind if I pop to the loo? Stacy?"

"Help me! Oh my God, help me!" Stacy cried, unable to control her body anymore.

"What is it, what's wrong?" Donna tried to get in but the door was locked, "Stacy!"

Stacy screamed before falling apart into little Adipose. By the time Donna was able to get into the bathroom, only Stacy's clothes were on the floor. However, she was able to see one last Adipose waving at her from the window before jumping out.

~0~

Outside, the Doctor was running along the street, still trying to figure out where the signal was coming from. He stopped and looked at the device, banging on it and blowing before holding it out in front of him and rushing off.

~0~

In another street, Donna was also running following the trashcans that were turned over to the ground.

~0~

The Doctor stopped yet again, looking for a signal. The device dinged and he ran off. He stopped in the center of a road, barely dodging a van with its sirens on as it passed him. But the device dinged as soon as the van passed and he hurried after it, though it made a swift turned and disappeared.

~0~

The same van passed by Donna who discarded it as she was on her search for the little blob.

"Stacy Campbell?" a taxi driver stopped by her.

"No, she's gone," Donna replied, still looking around.

"Gone where?"

"She's just gone."

"Aw great, thanks for nothing," the taxi driver drove away.

~0~

In the next street, the Doctor was holding up his device, disappointed he had let the van go. With nothing else to do, he walked away, hoping Minerva was already back in the TARDIS and away from James Mulvoy.

~0~

Donna arrived home...where not a second later her mother started to make her usual remarks.

"And what time is this?"

Donna rolled her eyes, "How old am I?"

Sylvia came out into the front hall, "Not old enough to use a phone," she returned to the kitchen where Donna made some tea and sat down at the table, listening to her mother's ongoing lectures, "I thought you were only moving back for a couple of weeks. Look at you, I mean you're never gonna find a flat, not while you're on the dole. And its no good sitting there, dressed up, looking like you're job hunting, you've got to do something! It's not like the 1980s, no one's unemployed these days except you! How long did that job with Health and Safety last? Two days, and then you walk out. 'I have other plans', well I've not seen them. And it's no good sitting there dreaming, no one's gonna come along with a magic wand and make your life all better."

"Where is Granddad?" Donna rolled her eyes, having enough of the nagging.

"Where do you think he is! Up the hill. He's always up the hill."

~0~

Donna walked up a hill, her granddad walking out of a tin shed, "Aye, aye here comes trouble. Ha."

"Permission to board ship, sir?" Donna asked, waving a thermos in her hand.

"Permission granted. Was she nagging you?"

"Ha ha. Big time," her granddad, Wilf, sat down on a camp chair in front of his telescope, " Brought you a thermos."

"Oh, ta."

"You seen anything?"

"Yeah, I've got Venus, there with an apparent magnitude of minus 3.5. At least that's what it says in my little book," Donna pulled out a tarpin and sat down beside Wilf, "Here, come and see, come on, here you go," Donna took a look into the telescope, "Right? That's the only planet in the Solar System named after a woman."

"Good for her. How far away is that?"

"Oh, its about 26 million miles. But we'll get there one day. In a hundred years time we'll be striding out among the stars. Jiggling about with all them aliens. Just you wait."

"You really believe in all that stuff, don't you?"

"It's all over the place these days. If I wait here long enough..."

"I don't suppose you've seen a little blue box?" Donna gazed up to the sky, perhaps one day she would see that little blue box again.

"Is that slang for something?" Wilf asked, glancing at Donna while she looked up.

"No, I mean it. If you ever see a little blue box flying up there in the sky, you shout for me, Gramps. Oh, you just shout."

"You know, I don't understand half the things you say these days."

"Nor me."

"No, fair dos. You've had a funny old time of it lately. There was poor old what's his name, Lance, bless him... and that barmy old Christmas. I wish you would tell us what really happened," despite assurances from Donna that everything was fine, Wilf just knew that her granddaughter wasn't happy. She hadn't been ever since that marriage fiasco. He wished he knew how to help her.

"I know. It's just... the things I've seen. Sometimes I think I'm going mad. I mean even tonight I was in a... doesn't matter," Donna pulled a fake smile, everything she did to try to find the Doctor and Minerva was a secret. It was her secret.

"Well you're not yourself, I'll give you that. You just... you seem to be drifting, sweetheart."

"I'm not drifting. I'm waiting."

"What for?"

"An Auton..."

"A what?"

Donna sighed, while she hadn't paid attention to Minerva's words with caution, she still awaited for the day she would see an 'Auton' because meeting one would mean she would meet Minerva, and in meeting Minerva she would meet the Doctor again. It didn't matter if it was in the past, as Minerva had said, because in doing that, she would have had to meet the pair again and that's what she wanted more than anything now. So bring on an Auton because she was more than ready for it.

"You say the oddest things," Wilf shook his head.

"No gramps, because if I see one, then I get to see them again."

"Who's 'them'?"

"Some people I just need to meet again. I met them just once...and then I let them fly away."

"Well there you are, go and find them, then!

"I've tried. But they're no where."

And indeed she tried. Since she figured the Doctor would be a little harder to find, she opted for Minerva's files. But it was odd, because despite the girl looking quite young, all her paperwork didn't list her parents' information. It was as if she was on her own..au

"Oi, not like you to give up. You know, remember when you were about six years old, your mother said no holiday this year. So off you toddled, all on your own and you got on a bus to Strathclyde! Hah! We had the police after you and everything! Ha, where's she gone then, where's that girl, hey?" Wilf chuckled, trying to cheer her up.

"You're right. Cause they're still out there, somewhere. And I'll find them Gramps, even if I have to wait a hundred years. I'll find them," Donna breathed, her gaze lifting up to the sky again.

~0~

In the TARDIS, the Doctor was busy looking at the golden Adipose capsule he took from Clare, through a magnifying glass, "Ohh, fascinating. Seems to be a bio-flip digital stitch, specifically for..." he looked up and frowned at his solitude.

Minerva wasn't back yet.

He could physically feel his blood boiling at the thought of James being with her. He really tried not to be so jealous because in a long shot it would only irritate Minerva and he didn't want to lose her. There was already so many things that were wrong and he didn't want to add something more to the list.

The doors opened, his head snapping over to see Minerva walking in, carrying a small bag in her arms, "Okay, it is freezing out there," she pointed back. She walked several steps forwards, stopping when he went around the console, "So guess what...?"

"What?" he raised an eyebrow, beginning to smile when she was practically forcing herself not to beam.

"I just..." she reached inside her bag, taking out a small folder, "...graduated!" she squealed, running over to him where she was met with open arms that took her into a spinning hug.

"That's is great! I'm so proud of you!" he set her down, allowing her to show him her diploma.

"Officially, eighteen and graduated," she waved it around, beaming brightly.

"Minerva Joycelin Souza," he read off, "Has completed her high school..."

"I did it, Doctor. I finally did it," she breathed in, taking the diploma from him, "Do you think my mom would be proud?"

He didn't reply for the moment and simply sighed. He really loathed how hard Minerva worked for something Sophia didn't deserve. He really needed Minerva to remain calm and not overwork herself. There were certain things she didn't know about just yet and he didn't want for those things to affect her even worse than they already were.

"She should be," the Doctor answered carefully, not wanting to ruin her happiness, "But most importantly, you should be proud of yourself. Forget her, forget everyone else. Are you proud of yourself?"

She considered it for a moment and nodded, "I made top twenty five, number five of the class...heck yes I'm proud of myself!"

"Top five?" he had missed that certain piece of information apparently.

"Oh yes," she grinned, "I was number five of the highest GPA of the entire senior class. I'm good like that."

"That you are," he nodded, leaning down to kiss her.

"So where's my gift?" she murmured as she pulled back.

"How do you know I was going to give you something?"

"Because Martha said you should," she set the diploma on the chairs by the console, "That's what a good boyfriend would do. So gimme, gimme, gimme!" she wiggled her fingers towards him.

"Ah, but an excellent boyfriend would do something better than give you a silly little object..." he pushed her hands down and used her wrists to pull her up against him.

"What are you planning, Martian?" she raised an eyebrow, noticing the mischievous look in his eyes.

"How would you like to go to somewhere special with me?"

"Will there be margaritas?"

"You are not allowed to have that," he reminded.

"It's not my fault I like them! Jack introduced them to me and I liked it...sue me..." she pouted for a second before reverting to her excitement, stepping closer to him and looking up with a sweet grin, "...so when exactly are we going? And where?"

"After we finish with the Adipose Industries problem, and the location is a secret," he tapped her nose.

"First of all, I'm gonna need more details on that location. Second of all, I was talking with Adela and James and she said she's been taking the pills and she's lost weight too so I was thinking maybe I could just take one little capsule-"

"That's it," he scooped her up into his arms.

"What are you doing you crazy Martian!?" she squealed.

"I'm getting you to a mirror because it's ridiculous you don't see your perfection."

"Yadda, yadda, I know I'm perfect, thank you very much, but I do need to lose some weight," she ran a finger along the side of his face and left a trail of kisses, the effect always getting her what she wanted from the Martian, "So c'mon, can't I get just one little bottle?"

"Mm, no, not even one little capsule," he snapped lightly, doing his best to ignore those lips of hers.

"You're mean," she pouted.

"And you're perfection, case closed," he grinned and walked towards the corridors, the human in his arms still complaining all the way.

~0~

The next day, Donna walked out of her house, her mother coming out behind dressed in a dressing gown and hair curler, "It's my turn for the car. What you need it for?"

Donna got into the car and started it up, "A quick getaway."

~0~

The Doctor was running around the console, pushing buttons while Minerva sat on the chairs, just watching him. She would've helped...if he had let her use those pills...

~0~

Donna parked her car in a small alley way, getting out and locking then walked away...unable to catch the TARDIS materializing a few feet behind the car.

"You coming or not?" the Doctor asked Minerva, waiting by the doors, the clever girl still on the chairs, her legs swinging back and forth like a child.

"Don't know..." she looked around.

"Minerva, I swear I will come over and throw you over my shoulders if I have to."

"And then what?"

"Are you really mad at me because I won't allow you to take the stupid capsules? You know they're bad for you, and these are severely bad for you," he walked over to her, taking her hands into his.

"I know, but..." she sighed, "...it's just, Marisol-"

"Dear, no offense, but who cares about her?"

"My mom does..."

"Okay, forgetting about Sophia, be honest with yourself...do you really want to take the capsules?"

"Honest, honest?" she looked up, the Doctor nodding and so she sighed, "No, I don't want to. It's true, I gained weight...but I don't think it was that noticeable."

"That's the Minerva I like to hear," he kissed her forehead.

"But, maybe if I looked as good as Marisol did, perhaps it could get me on my mother's good side and-"

He placed his finger over her lips, a stern look on his face, "Your mother should love you because you're her daughter, not cause you're trying to be what she wants you to be."

"But I can't help to try. I remember all the awful treatment the Master gave them and I..." she sighed and shook her head.

"Don't get sad, please," he kissed her forehead, "I can't stand those eyes of yours being sad."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down in shame.

She was never one to doubt her looks. She wasn't conceited but she just had good self-esteem. She knew she wasn't that beautiful like a super-model but she didn't consider herself to be that ugly either. But in those last few months she had spent working on her diploma her mother had picked up a...a surrogate daughter...and it deeply hurt her. It truly did. No matter how angry she was with her mother for everything...she couldn't help her heart break knowing Sophia preferred another girl who wasn't hers as a daughter. So, subconsciously, nearly everything Minerva did was to try and garner her mother's affection, forgiveness. It was like her anger had been pushed aside as she realized the most important thing, Sophia was her mother and Minerva missed her deeply. She was trying, she was actively trying to forget her anger and try to work for Sophia's forgiveness...but so far, Sophia didn't seem to care.

"You don't have to be sorry for anything, clever girl," the Doctor took her hands and pulled her to her feet, "You're amazing, you're intelligent, bloody gorgeous," he kissed her cheeks, "Kind, unlike the snooty cousin you have, and you're generous, very, but very sweet," he lifted her chin and gave her a deep kiss, one that would prove just how much he thought of her.

"I like her too," she whispered.

"So now that we've established that, how's about we go infiltrate some Adipose Industries, eh?"

She smiled, "Is that a date?"

"Yup!"

"I gladly accept, Martian," she looked down at her clothes, tilting her head, "Are these clothes acceptable for a date?"

She wore black boots with small heels, black jeans tucked underneath them with a halter-top, dark purple blouse and a black jean jacket to cover her arms. Her hair was down with a small purple bow on the side of her head.

"Always," the Doctor smiled at her, taking her hand and leading her out.

~0~

Donna walked into the washroom of the industry, going into a stall and checking her watch...it would be a long day.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor and Minerva walked down the same corridor of the fire exit. They stopped at a storage closet where the Doctor used the sonic to open it up, allowing his "date" inside first. He followed and soniced it shut.

"So..." he turned to her, a playful smile on his face as he stepped closer to her, "...what shall we do on this date?"

Minerva raised an eyebrow, seeing exactly where he was going with it, "I've got a perfect idea," she announced, her own smirk forming, her hand reaching for her back pocket.

"Really?" he rested a hand on her waist, "Shall I begin?"

He closed his eyes and leaned down to kiss her...when he felt a finger on his lips. He opened his eyes and found her holding up her mp3 player, a broad smile on her face.

"I want to listen to my song," she announced, sticking in her two earphones and starting the song, humming as it started.

The Doctor sighed, oh he really needed to get rid of that mp3 player. He cursed Martha for giving it to her. That thing had been the cause of disruptions to many of his potential snogging sessions.

That thing would disappear one of these days...

"Minerva?" he whined, the woman bobbing her head as small 'oh's' came out of her. He frowned and stood straight, this time the mp3 would not win.

He plucked an earphone from her, Minerva blinking as she was startled, "Doctor, I was listening..." she began but the Martian had pressed his lips on hers, pulling out her other earphone a second later, "...you cheated," she smiled, stepping back with him, her arms going around his neck.

"I'm smart," he corrected, saving her mp3 in one of his pockets.

"Cheater," she murmured before he resumed their kiss.

~0~

At about 6:10, the building was emptied out as the employees had all gone home.

The door of the storage closet opened and out came Minerva, holding her mp3 play with a sly grin as she turned to the right. The Doctor came out a few seconds after, his face completely dazed and his hair all over the place...that woman sure knew how to make her arguments...

"Doctor, coming?" Minerva called, glancing back.

"Yeah, yeah," he cleared his throat, coming up beside her and taking her hand.

She wrapped an arm around his neck and fixed his messy hair with an innocent smile. She then pulled him down for another kiss, making it as loving as possible to re-establish she was keeping her mp3.

She loved that mp3...it always led to snogging in the end!

~0~

Donna flinched when her cellphone went off, still inside the stall of the washroom, "Not now!" she whispered.

"I need the car! Where are you?" Sylvia demanded.

"I can't. I'm busy."

"Why are you whispering?"

"I'm in church."

"What are you doing in church?"

"...Praying!"

"Bit late for that, madam."

"What's she in church for?" Wilf asked Sylvia, happening to be in the kitchen during the time.

"Hush, you. Go up the hill!" Sylvia waved him off and spoke into the phone again, "But I need the car. I'm going out with Suzette. Shes asked all the Wednesday girls, apparently she's been on those Adipose pills. She says she looks marvelous."

But Donna heard the doors of the washroom being opened and hung up. It was Miss Foster with her two body guards, "We know you're in here, so why don't you make this nice and easy and show yourself?" Donna pulled her legs up, "I'm waiting. I warn you, I'm not a patient woman. Now, out you come," but no one came out, "Right. We'll do it the hard way. Get her!"

The body guards started kicking open stall by stall...finding Penny, the journalist in the stall before Donna.

"There you are," Miss Foster said, the woman stepping out by the guards.

"I've been through the records, Foster, and all of your results have been faked. There's something about those pills you're not telling us," Penny spat.

"Oh, I think I'll be conducting this interview, Penny," Miss Foster turned around, the bodyguards pushing Penny after her.

Donna poked her head out the stall once they were gone, going after to follow them.

~0~

"You are so mad," Minerva declared as the Doctor helped her into a window cleaner's cradle and switched it to descend.

"And you so like it," he tapped her nose.

She opened her mouth to make an argument but shrugged, "Yeah, I do. What's a date without adrenaline?"

The cradle stopped outside Miss Foster's office, the pair ducking down before they were seen.

Inside, Penny was struggling for her freedom, but the bodyguards were too strong, "This is ridiculous!"

"Sit there," Miss Foster ordered.

"I'm phoning my editor."

"I said sit."

Penny was pushed down by the bodyguards and tied up, "You can't tie me up. What sort of a country do you think this is?"

"Oh, it's a beautifully fat country. And believe me, I've traveled a long way to find obesity on this scale."

"So come on then, Miss Foster, those pills. What are they?"

Donna had snuck over to the front door of the office, watching and listening with caution.

"Well, you might just as well have a scoop, since you'll never see it printed. This," Miss Foster lifted a capsule, "Is the spark of life."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Officially, the capsule attracts all the fat cells and flushes them away. Well, it certainly attracts them, that part's true. But it binds the fat together and galvanizes it to form a body."

"Well, what d'you mean 'a body'?" Penny stopped her struggle for freedom, that last bit sounding...scary.

"I am surprised you never asked about my name. I chose it well. Foster, as in foster mother. And these," Miss Foster put an Adipose on the table, "Are my children."

"You're kidding me. What the hell is that?" Penny's eyes widened.

The trio in hiding, in their respective hiding places, rose up to look through the windows.

"Adipose. It's called an Adipose. Made out of living fat. Stripped from ordinary human..." Miss Foster said proudly.

"Oh my god..." Minerva tilted her head, nudging the Doctor, "...I spy a ginger!"

He looked ahead and saw Donna across from the, all three gaping with shock.

"Donna?" he mouthed.

"DOCTOR!" Donna mouthed right back.

'But... what? Wha... What?!'

'OH MY GOD!'

'But... how?'

'It's me!'

'Well, I can see that!'

'Oh this is brilliant!'

'But what are you doing there?'

Minerva looked from one to the other, propping her elbows on the rails of the cradle, amused by the miming that was actually very well done. Her Martian was just brilliant at that too.

'I was looking for you!' Donna continued to mouth.

'What for?!' the Doctor asked.

"I, came here, trouble, read about it, internet, I thought, trouble = you! And this place is weird! Pills! So I hid. Back there. Crept along. Heard this lot. Looked. You! Cos they..."

"Doctor," Minerva nodded towards Miss Foster, who had caught on, "We should go..."

"Are we interrupting you?" Miss Foster asked mighty loud so both sides would hear.

"Run!" Minerva shouted, Donna able to catch the mouthing.

"Get her!" Miss Foster ordered, the Doctor soniced the office door with the screwdriver, allowing Donna some time to run. He used it on the cradle next to go back to the roof, "And them!" Miss Foster watched the pair go up.

~0~

The trio met up by the alcove of the stairs, Donna encasing both of them in a big hug, "Oh my god, it's you!"

"Donna Noble, I thought we'd never see you again," Minerva chuckled.

"Oh my God! I don't believe it! You've even got the same suit!" the ginger looked the Doctor over, completely aghast, "Don't you ever change?"

"He does," Minerva nodded, "I send him myself."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, "Yeah, thanks, but not right now!" he looked down and saw the guards coming, "Just like old times!" he grabbed Minerva's hand and started back up the stairs, Donna quickly after them.

They returned to the roof where Donna had started to babble excitedly, "Cause I thought, how do I find the Doctor? And then I just thought, look for trouble and then he'll turn up!"

"Good start," Minerva remarked.

"You're no easier to find!" she frowned, "You're human and you're records are all screwed up!"

"How do you mean?" Minerva became confused.

"So I looked everywhere, you name it," Donna had continued her babble, not catching the question, "UFOs, sightings, crop circles, sea monsters. I looked, I found them all. Like that stuff about the bees disappearing, I thought, I bet he's connected. Cause the thing is, Doctor, I believe it all now. You opened my eyes. All those amazing things out there, I believe them all. Well, apart from that replica of the Titanic flying over Buckingham Palace on Christmas Day, I mean that's gotta be a hoax!"

"Not really, we were there," Minerva replied.

The Doctor had gotten busy working on the cradle's controls with the sonic, catching about one sentence, "What d'you mean, the bees are disappearing?"

"I don't know. That's what it says on the internet," Donna shrugged, the Doctor climbing up the cradle, "Well on the same site, there was all the conspiracy theories about Adipose Industries, I thought let's take a look!"

"In you get!" he helped Minerva inside again.

"What, in that thing?" Donna blinked.

"Yes in that thing!"

"It's a bit more fun than it looks," Minerva shrugged.

"But if we go down in that, they'll just call us back up again."

"No no no, cause I've locked the controls with a sonic cage. I'm the only one who can control it. Not unless she's got a sonic device of her own. Which is very unlikely."

And then Minerva smacked him upside the head, "Why do you gotta say things like that? Your mouth is 95% jinx-magnet."

"What's the other 5%?" he frowned, genuinely wanting to know.

"Sweet talk," she nodded, admitting it always got her, though that didn't stop her from elbowing him in the ribs due to his smirk.

Miss Foster approached the edge of the roof, looking down to see the trio descending, "Oh, I don't think so," she used her sonic pen to accelerate the cradle.

The Doctor then stopped it with the screwdriver before he and the women fell to the floor. He quickly stood up and tried opening the nearest window with the sonic.

"Hold on. Hold on, we can get in through the window."

Miss Foster spoke to her wrist communicator, "Deadlock the building."

"Can't get it open!"

Donna lifted a large spanner from the cradle, "Well smash it then!"

Minerva crossed her arms and stared at the pair, Donna simply tapping the window with the spanner while the Doctor continued using the screwdriver. She bit her laugh and shook her head, "You two are just geniuses."

Miss Foster pointed her sonic to the cradle's cable, making them spark and smokey.

"She's cutting the cable!" Minerva had looked up at the sound, "Doctor!" she grabbed onto the rails, the Martian doing the same...

...Donna not having the same luck.

"Donna!" they shouted, poor Donna hanging onto the broken cable below, "Hold on!"

"I AM!" she cried.

They tried to pull her up by the cable but it wasn't working and they were running out of time.

"And now, for the other one," Miss Foster used the sonic on the second cable but the Doctor used his screwdriver on her pen, making it sparkle until she dropped it down, "Ah!"

The Doctor caught the pen, and climbed up the cable, "Minerva?"

"I'm coming!" she shouted, though she gave a quick glance below to see Donna, "But hurry!"

He managed to open the window as Minerva neared up. He climbed inside, falling to the floor on his back. Minerva poked her head inside, laughing at him, "Stupid Martian," she was going to make her swift entrance when he pulled her down as well.

"I don't think I'm that stupid," he smirked, pecking her lips.

"Oh, hello," she blinked, giving him one more peck but they got up from the floor.

~ 0 ~

"This is all your fault. I should've stayed at home!" poor Donna yelled, still clinging on for her life.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor and Minerva ran into Miss Foster's office where Penny was still tied up, "Is anyone gonna tell me what's going on?" she demanded as they opened the window.

"What, you're a journalist?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes."

"Well, make it up!" he tried grabbing Donna's legs.

"Oi, not all journalists make things up," Minerva exclaimed, "Sarah Jane Smith does a fantastic job and she's honest!"

"Fair enough," he nodded, concerned more with the fact Donna wasn't allowing him to help her.

"Get off!" she shouted.

"I've got you! I've got you. Stop kicking!" he managed to pull her inside.

"I was right. It's always like this with you, innit?" she breathed, looking between them.

"Kinda," Minerva nodded, "But it's more fun like this."

"And off we go!" the Doctor said, the trio running out.

"OI!" Penny shouted, the Doctor popping back inside.

"Sorry!" he used the sonic to release her and ran off, popping back a second alter, "Now do yourself a favor, get out."

He and Donna ran across the call center, the Doctor a bit alarmed to see Minerva going around the edge of the room, partially hidden by the small cubicles. However, his attention was diverted to Miss Foster and her body guards who were across from them.

"Well then," Miss Foster took her glasses off, "At last."

"Hello," Donna greeted.

" Nice to meet you, I'm the Doctor."

"And I'm Donna."

"Partners in crime. And evidently off-worlders, judging by your sonic technology," Miss Foster said, not too pleased.

"Oh yes, I've still got your sonic pen. Nice, I like it. Sleek, it's kinda sleek," he showed it to Donna, quickly looking around, even more alarmed now that he didn't see Minerva anymore.

"Oh it's definitely sleek," Donna nodded.

"Yeah, and if you were to sign your real name that would be...?" the Doctor asked the woman.

"Matron Cofelia of the Five-Straighten Classabindi Nursery Fleet. Intergalactic Class."

"A wet nurse, using humans as surrogates."

"I've been employed by the Adiposian First Family to foster a new generation after their breeding planet was lost."

One body guard went down all of a sudden, Minerva dusting her hands off behind him, looking up to see everyone staring at her, "James is awesome!" she grinned, her self-defense moves coming in handy even with pressure points. The Doctor cleared his throat, evidently clear he disliked that statement, "Oh but not as much as you," she ran over to him, pecking his lips.

"Hold on..." Donna's eyes widened, pointing at the pair.

"Right, back to the point," Minerva fixed herself, "Sorry, looks like one body guard is down, probably will be for a while. But I couldn't help to listen about a planet being lost...how does one lose a planet?" she raised an eyebrow, "I mean, misplace a book, glasses...sure...but a planet?"

"Oh, politics are none of my concern. I'm just here to take care of the children on behalf of the parents," Miss Foster replied.

"What, like an outer space super-nanny?" Donna asked.

"Yes, if you like."

"So... so those little things they're, they're made out of fat yeah, but that woman, Stacy Campbell, there was nothing left of her."

"Oh, in a crisis the Adipose can convert bone and hair and internal organs. Makes them a little bit sick, poor things."

"What about poor Stacy?"

"Seeding a level 5 planet is against galactic law," the Doctor reminded.

"Are you threatening me?" Miss Foster raised an eyebrow.

"I'm trying to help you, Matron. This is your one chance; cos if you don't call this off, then I'll have to stop you."

"I hardly think you can stop bullets."

"No, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, one more thing, before... dying. Do you know what happens if you hold two identical sonic devices against each other?"

"No..."

"Nor me, lets find out!" he pointed the screwdriver and pen together, creating an awful noise.

Everyone held their hands to their ears, the noise too much. Minerva pushed the Doctor and stopped him, reminding him to run,

Miss Foster spoke into her communicator, "I'm advancing the birth plan. We're going into premature labor."

~0~

The trio arrived at the storage cupboard where the Doctor started throwing its supplies out.

"What happened between you two?" Donna just needed to ask.

"How do you mean?" Minerva had joined in on the supply throwing.

"Wedding day, you two were friends, today...you...kiss?"

"Oh that..." Minerva considered explaining it but there was small time to do so, "...long story!"

The Doctor had opened up the back of the cupboard to reveal a green machine built into the wall, "Hacking in to this thing, cos the matron's got a computer core running through the center of the building. Triple deadlocked. And now I've got this," he held up her sonic pen, "I can get into it."

~0~

Back in Miss Foster's office, however, was another green machine built into her wall.

"What does that thing do?" Penny asked, having been tied up yet again.

"It's the inducer. We had planned to seed millions, but if that man's an alien then he's alerted the Shadow Proclamation, so the first one million humans will have to do," Miss Foster turned to her body guards, "Find him, and the women. Don't waste time, just kill them."

~0~

"She's wired up the whole building. We need a bit of privacy," the Doctor held two sparkling plugs, making lightning emerge from the walls which stunned the guards, "Just enough to stop them. Why's she wired up the tower block? What's it all for?"

"Inducer online."

"Anything I can help with?" Minerva stepped beside him, seeing the possibility of that being very slim.

"Not really, love, sorry."

She nodded, internally wishing she could be just as smart as he was so she could help him. This was one of the consequences of their different origins...no matter how clever she claimed to be, she would never compare to what a woman of his species could be, a Time Lady. The Doctor held her hand, kissing the back of it to assure her it was alright she couldn't help, he understood and he didn't mind. Minerva faintly smiled, thanking the heavens he could look past her human defects.

Donna studied the pair, the thing of them being an actual item still not settling in her mind, "I noticed things have changed between you two," she said quietly, afraid this change could affect her possible chance of coming on-board the TARDIS.

"Right, I was angry with you at the time," Minerva said to the Doctor.

"What? What had I done?" the Doctor asked, sounding defensive and a child.

Minerva crossed her arms, "You called me Rose...twice. I nearly walked out of your life."

He looked back to his work, trying to forget that day. It had been the most horrific day since the Time War. He lost Rose and nearly lost Minerva as well and both were his fault.

"Hey, I'm not mad anymore," Minerva turned his head to her.

Truly, she wasn't. She understood now, the Doctor had cared for Rose not loved her. His feelings were all mixed up, his head jumbled with Rose, saving Donna from the Racnoss and keeping Minerva and himself safe. It was an outburst of everything. It didn't mean it didn't still hurt her, but it didn't mean she was angry that something happened out of a genuine mistake. She tried not to talk so much of that time, especially of Rose. She still didn't feel comfortable talking about the blonde, her guilt for taking the man Rose loved and because of attitude Rose had given in the end. The Doctor had no idea what Rose had become to Minerva during their last months together and Minerva intended to keep it that way. It was the least she could do after taking him...

"Never again, though," the Doctor whispered to her, his hand reaching to her cheek, "You're my Clever Girl. Mine."

"You're my Martian," she smiled softly, nuzzling to his touch.

"My Minerva, Minerva," he gently leaned to kiss her.

Donna looked away at the small moment, feeling a big change had truly happened since the last time she'd seen them.

Minerva suddenly remembered they weren't alone anymore and turned to Donna, "Sorry about that. We're not used to having another person with us," she rubbed her neck out of embarrassment.

Truly, they hadn't. They had been on their own since Martha left them, occasionally dropping by to see only Minerva's grandmother, Isadora. Martha had been far too busy for a visit and Minerva really didn't want to be imprudent especially after hearing she was nearly done with her studies. Other than that, it was the Doctor and Minerva. They had their small moments that went on for hours, uninterrupted.

The only other person they'd stopped by to see was Astrid from the Titanic. After the Doctor told Minerva of Astrid's refusal to travel in the TARDIS thinking Minerva was dead, Minerva immediately made the Doctor take them to the blonde and Mr. Copper. Astrid had literally cried of joy upon seeing the walking and talking brunette. She'd apologized endlessly to Minerva, still believing it had been her fault Minerva had been close to death in the first place. Minerva would have none of that and explained about the blue light that had mysteriously saved her from the engine's wrath. If anything, Minerva was the one that felt awful for putting her and the Doctor through so much angst. As an apology, she and the Doctor had taken her and even Mr. Copper for a nice trip to any place Astrid wanted.

"It's just...well," Donna looked from one to the other, truly no words coming to mind, well save these three, "You look older."

"I'm eighteen, now," Minerva shrugged, "The Doctor just always looks older."

"Watch it," he warned as he worked.

"You know it's attractive," she kissed his temple.

"Thanks!" he beamed.

"Still on your own, then?" Donna asked, though the answer was pretty clear after Minerva's words.

"Yup," the Doctor answered without actually thinking.

"No," Minerva corrected, "We had this friend, Martha she was called. Martha Jones. She was brilliant...she was my best friend."

"...and I destroyed half her life," the Doctor had to put in a comment.

Minerva sighed, tired of hearing that from him. But the Doctor maintained his stance on Martha's family. The Master was his responsibility and had hurt Martha, Martha's family, Minerva's family and Minerva. He was responsible for it and partly the reason for Martha's departure. Worse than that, it was his fault for what was happening to Minerva as well...

"No, you didn't," Minerva shook her head, "Martha is just fine, she's just gone to make her own life."

"What about Rose?" Donna asked, both pair stiffening with silence.

"Still lost," the Doctor said quietly, pausing, wanting to change the subject before Minerva became upset. He knew that topic wasn't easy for Minerva's based on her previous thoughts of his affection for the blonde. He'd rather not talk about her at all, "I thought you were going to travel the world?"

Donna sighed at her failure, "Easier said then done. It's like I had that one day with you and I was gonna change. I was gonna do so much. Then I woke up next morning, same old life. It's like you were never there. And I tried. I did try, I went to Egypt. I was gonna go barefoot and everything. And then it's all bus trips and guidebooks and don't drink the water and two weeks later you're back home. It's nothing like being with you. I must have been mad turning down that offer."

"What offer?"

"To come with you."

"You'd come with us?"

"Oh yes, please!"

"Right..." the Doctor quickly looked at Minerva, unsure how Minerva would take Donna's sudden arrival.

Martha's departure was hurtful. She was Minerva's best friend, and she had already lost Mickey, twice. Would she dislike Donna if she came with them?

"Inducer activated."

"What's it doing now?" Minerva asked.

"She's started the program! So far they're just losing weight, but the Matron has gone up to emergency pathogenesis," the Doctor ran a hand through his hair, helpless with the machine in front of him.

"That's when they convert..." Minerva whispered, thinking back to her cousin, Marisol. She might dislike her but she sure didn't wish for her cousin's death!

"Skeletons, organs, everything. A million people are gonna die!"

"Then cancel the signal!"

He pulled out the golden capsule and pulled a side off to reveal a chip inside, "This contains the primary signal. If I can switch it off the fat goes back to being just fat," he hooked up the capsule to the machine.

~0~

"A nice try. Double strength," Miss Foster pushed down the lever completely.

Inducer increasing.

~0~

"No no no no no, she's doubled it, I need... Haven't got time! It's too far, I can't override it! They're all gonna die!" the Doctor cried.

"Is there anything I can do?" Donna offered.

"Sorry, Donna, this is way beyond you! Gotta double the base pulse, I can't..."

But Donna wouldn't have any of that, "Doctor, tell me what do you need."

"I need a second capsule to boost the override, but I've only got the one. I can't save them!"

While he fiddled with the switches, Minerva watched Donna hold up her own gold capsule, "Oh you are good," she remarked, the Doctor looking over and seeing the capsule, "Doctor, she is so coming with us!"

Donna beamed at the woman's approval. Minerva wouldn't mind having her around!

The Doctor took the second gold capsule and plugged it in to the machine, the green lights going off, "It's stopped! They've gone!"

~ 0 ~

Miss Foster flicked on the switches but nothing was working anymore. Everything was shut down.

"What's happened?" Penny tried peering around the woman from her chair.

"I think the Doctor happened. But we've still given birth to ten thousand Adipose. And the nursery is coming," Miss Foster moved to the windows when a loud horn rang, "It's my lift home!"

~0~

"Fine. When you say nursery you don't mean a creche in Notting Hill..." Donna looked from the Doctor to Minerva.

"Nursery ship," the Doctor reminded.

"I think he meant that quite literally," Minerva put a hand on the ginger's arm.

The comp unit lighted up again, "Incoming signal," and an alien language started playing.

"What's it saying?" Minerva asked as the Doctor leaned to the machine.

"Instructions from the Adiposian First Family."

~0~

Miss Foster stood on the street, at the head of all the Adipose babies, "Children! Oh my children, behold. I am taking you home," the Adipose cheered, "Far across the galaxy, your new mummies and daddies are waiting. And you will fly!" a blue light levitation beamed down from the ship, levitating everyone including Miss Foster, "Up you go, babies. Up you go! That's it, fly away home!"

~ 0 ~

"She's wired up the tower block to convert it into a levitation post," the Doctor was still listening to the instructions, "Oh. Ooh. We're not the ones in trouble now. She is!"

"How do you mean-Ah!" Minerva yelped when he yanked her out of the room, Donna running after.

They returned to the roof, watching the Adipose babies flying up to the nursery ship. Minerva, in awe, walked up to the edge, resting her arms on the rails, smiling and waving at the little babies. They were kinda cute, she thought, they looked like little marshmallows!

"What you gonna do then? Blow them up?" Donna asked the Doctor, both of them remaining back.

"They're just children. They can't help where they come from," he replied, his gaze landing on Minerva as he thought.

She and the small Adipose babies did have one similarity. The Adipose babies were innocent who were born out of an woman's wrongful actions. Minerva was the sweetest thing in the world and was the product of a horrible woman with no warm feelings for her daughter.

"Oh, that makes a change from last time," Donna remarked, following his gaze to Minerva, "Wonder how that happened..."

He smiled softly, "She kept her reigns real good. She and Martha, anyways."

"Mm, but it looks like Minerva might have completely let go of hers," Donna smirked.

"Oh quiet. She's actually kept them, for your information."

Minerva, despite their newly found relationship, was still as strict as ever with her principles. Sure, he might have a new way of escaping her lectures...a few kisses here...a few sweet words there...but she always knew how to keep him on check.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Bye, bye," Minerva waved at the Adipose, "Fly back to your mommies and daddies. I'm sure they'll love you..." her smile faded a bit as her mind wandered back to her own parents.

Miss Foster soared up to the level of the trio, the Doctor and Donna running over to Minerva's side, "Matron Cofelia, listen to me!" the Doctor yelled.

"Oh, I don't think so, Doctor. And if I never see you again, it will be too soon," she smiled.

"Oh, why does no one ever listen? I'm trying to help! Just get across to the roof. Can you shift the levitation beam?"

"What, so that you can arrest me?"

"Just listen. I saw the Adiposian instructions - they know it's a crime, breeding on Earth. So what's the one thing they want to get rid of? Their accomplice!"

"I'm far more than that. I'm nanny to all these children."

"Yeah, but children don't want a nanny, they want their mom," Minerva said, speaking from her own experience. She loved her grandmother, she did, but a mother was a mother and it was something a child would always need.

The light vanished, Miss Foster having only a mere second before plummeting down. The trio looked away in sorrow for the dead woman.

~0~

The Doctor threw Miss Foster's sonic pen into a bin, lost in his thoughts. Minerva took his hand, offering a comforting smile even if she wasn't exactly well either.

"Oi, you three!" Penny the journalist crept out of the building, still tied to her chair, "You're just mad. Do you hear me? Mad! And I'm gonna report you... for madness!"

"You see, some people just can't take it," Donna observed, a hint of pride in her tone.

"No," the Doctor shook his head.

"But some people can. So, then - TARDIS! Come on!" she pulled them away to the alleyway where her car was parked...and the TARDIS, "That's my car! That is like destiny! And I've been ready for this," she open the trunk of her car which was full of suitcases, "

"I packed ages ago, just in case. Cause I thought, hot weather, cold weather, no weather..." she loaded her luggage on the Doctor's arms, Minerva stepping away and watching with amusement, "...they go anywhere, I've gotta be prepared," she threw a hatbox on top.

"You've got a... a... hatbox?!" Minerva chuckled, going to the trunk of the car to see what else the ginger had brought.

"Planet of the Hats, I'm ready!" Donna rushed to the TARDIS doors where she babbled like crazy, the Doctor following, "Do I need injections though, do I? Like when you go to Cambodia, is there any of that? Cause my friend Veena went to Bahrain, and..." Donna noticed the Martian's serious look, "You're not saying much."

"No, it's just..." the Doctor set down the luggage beside, thinking of a delicate way to explain his uneasiness of her coming along.

"You don't want me," Donna said with realization.

"I'm not saying that," he pointed out.

It's not that he didn't want her to come along, he thought she was fantastic! But his mind wandered back to Rose for some reason...the uneasiness Minerva felt all last year about the blonde. It pained him that he had put her through all that doubt, along with Kaeya. He didn't want some of that uneasiness to flow to Donna.

"But you asked me..." Donna whispered, glancing at Minerva who had found another hatbox in the car.

"Look, Donna, it's a bit complicated, you remember Rose right?" the Doctor sighed, Donna nodding silently, "I made a mistake last year, and the year before...and they both hurt Minerva. I won't ever make those mistakes again," he said firmly, "Minerva's a bit insecure because of my indecision from last year..." Donna nodded again, following so far, "Rose was someone I cared for but only as a friend, Martha was a best friend to Minerva, and I'd like for you be a friend as well. I want to make it clear, I just want a mate."

Donna's eyes widened with horror, "You just want to mate?"

"I just want a mate!" he quickly corrected, but Donna was more than horrified, going as far as hiding behind the TARDIS doors.

"You're not mating with me, sunshine! What about Minerva? MINERVA!" she shouted with fear.

Minerva quickly ran over, noticing Donna's fear and her hiding back behind the door, "What's up?"

"Your boyfriend wants to mate with me!" the ginger hid entirely behind the doors, only her finger visible as it pointed to the Doctor.

"I-I don't!' the Doctor was in a fit of stuttering as Minerva turned to him, "I-I don't, honest I d-don't!"

"Is there something we need to talk about?" the brunette raised an eyebrow.

"No! I didn't say that! She misheard me!" he pointed at Donna, her head poking out of the door, "I don't want to mate with her! I'd only want to mate with you!"

"Think real hard of what you just said," Minerva bit back her smile, blushing lightly.

It didn't take long for him to realize that and shook his head, blinking rapidly and blushing like mad, "Well, n-n-not that...not yet, well, no, not if you don't want to, but not yet-" he was forced to stop when Minerva had leaned up to kiss him.

Upon hearing quietness, Donna poked her head out the door again, breathing a sigh of relief at the two kissing. She stepped put of the box, fixing herself, "Well, nice to see that's been clarified."

Minerva was the first to pull away, her hands resting on the Doctor's face, "Yeah...my Martian is an idiot," she laughed at his pout, "But he's a handsome, harmless idiot."

"Minerva, in all seriousness though, I don't want anything to do with your boyfriend," Donna stepped up, just needing to clarify that for all of their sake's, "I'm not having any of that nonsense. I mean he's just a long streak of... nothing. You know, alien nothing."

Minerva busted out laughing, the Doctor frowning at Donna, "That's not nice," he declared.

"Well it's the truth!" Donna looked him over, not backing down from her statement.

Minerva wiped a tear from her eye due to her laughter, "Aw, but don't worry," she turned to the Martian, putting her hands on his chest, "I for one think you're something."

"Not a long streak of nothing?" he pouted.

"Well you are a long streak..." she looked him over, both laughing when Minerva got on her toes to kiss him again. Next to him, she was exceptionally short. Though Minerva claimed he was just so freakishly tall and she was average height.

"Grow a few more inches," Donna joked.

"Right?" Minerva pulled back, leaning her head on the Doctor's arm, "Too bad I can't magically change like he can."

"How do you mean?" Donna tilted her head.

"Well he regenerates," Minerva shrugged, "See, he..." she paused and smiled, glancing up at the Doctor who nodded, both thinking of the same thing, "C'mon then, I'll explain it in the TARDIS."

Donna blinked, had she understood? "I can...I can come?"

"Let's see, you think my boyfriend is a long streak of nothing, you're bloody brilliant and I like you, oh yeah you're coming!"

Donna gasped and ran to give them a big hug, "Oh thank you!" but she remembered something important and pulled away, "Car keys! I've still got my mum's car keys! I won't be a minute!" she ran away to go make a call.

"Well, c'mon, we've gotta get these inside," Minerva grabbed the hatbox.

"Are you okay?" the Doctor asked suddenly, making her stop.

She looked at him and lowered the box, "Why do you ask?"

"Martha...Rose..." he mumbled.

She understood now and so set the box on the ground, "I miss Martha, I do...but, she's happy and so as her best friend I'm happy. Donna is amazing and I think after everything she went through, she deserves to see some stars. And about Rose..." she strode up to him, "...Donna's nothing like her."

Donna was warm, joyful, friendly and loving. True, Rose had been the same for some time but it had changed for the worst and she doubted Rose would ever be a friend for her again.

"I just don't want you to get those silly ideas again," the Doctor took her hand, "Because I know how your mind works. I know how you feel..."

"Look, my feelings about Rose might be screwed up but I can't help it. But I know that Donna doesn't see you like that, she's just a friend."

"I swear to you, you are first. You dominate my hearts. There is no more doubt. I chose you, I always did and I never realized it. And if Rose ever came back, when Kaeya comes back, the only one I would want in my arms is you," he kissed her hand and then her lips.

Minerva wore a small smile afterwards, her heart skipping a beat at his words, at his assurance, "Really?".

"Yes, really," he cupped her face, "And I will make you see that, okay? You've lived a long life with rejection, no stability and uneasiness. That stops with me. And you know what? Perhaps Donna will be good for us. She'll show you that just because there's another woman, besides Martha, no one else can turn my head nor sneak into my hearts. You'll see it's just you."

Minerva nodded, truly wanting to feel secure of herself for the first time, "Show me then, Martian."

He leaned down, kissing her and showing the truth in each of his words.

~0~

Donna was walking through the crowded street next to the alleyway where her car and TARDIS were. She was talking to her mother over the phone, "I know, Mum, I saw it, little fat people. Listen, I've got to go. I'm going to stay with Veena for a bit. Yeah. I know. Spaceship. But, I've still got the car keys. Look. There is a bin on Brook Street, about thirty feet from the corner, I'm going to leave them in there," she threw the car keys into the bin beside her.

"What? A bin?"

"Yes, that's it, a bin."

"You can't do that."

"Oh, stop complaining, the car's just down the road a bit. Got to go, really got to go. Bye."

"But Donna, you can't..."

Though Donna hung up, just wanting to get back to the TARDIS and start her adventures! She looked around, spotting a blonde woman who stood by a fence. She ran over to her, "Listen, there is this woman that's going to come along, a tall blonde woman called Sylvia, tell her that bin there. Right, it'll all make sense. That bin there," Donna laughed and headed back to the TARDIS.

The blonde woman remained silent and watched Donna go. She took a look around and walked away from the fence.

It was Rose Tyler.

Worn, depressed, guilty, she walked in silence...vanishing into thin air.

~0~

"Off we go, then!" Donna popped back into the TARDIS.

The Doctor leaned back on the console, arms crossed, "Here it is, the TARDIS. It's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside..."

"Oh she knows that," Minerva walked around the console, "Honestly, I think the whole world knows that."

"Frankly, you could turn the A.C. on," Donna looked around, her stomach churning at the familiar room. She just couldn't believe she was finally there, she had finally found them again...

"Sorry, that's my fault," Minerva made a face.

"Why?" Donna asked absently.

"Know what heat flashes are?" she asked and Donna nodded, "I've been having these cold flashes for months now. My Martian has graciously turned the heater on for me."

"Have you seen a doctor about that?"

"Mhm, my own personal Doctor," Minerva rested her head on her Martian's arm, unaware of the guilty face the man wore, "But it's nothing, just a temporal side effect of a crystal, nothing big."

But by the face the Doctor had Donna would have to disagree. She wondered why he was lying, cause it was pretty obvious that's what he'd been doing...she'd have to look into that.

"Just temporal," the Doctor kissed Minerva's had, wrapping an arm around her waist while he looked to the side.

He severely disliked the way he was lying to her about her health but he didn't want to scare his clever girl. She had enough problems with her family to add on the newest problem of a Monsoon princess and her crystal.

"One good thing out of this cold issue is that it gives my Martian the excuse to cuddle," Minerva smirked and looked up at him, seeing a small smile from him instead of his guilt.

"You do it to cuddle?" Donna raised an eyebrow, really unable to believe that was the reason why the man had looked so guilty, "That's so cliché!"

"He just wants an excuse to be in my room at nights," Minerva add, tilting her head up at him, "Or whatever the time is when I go to sleep. You think you're so sneaky! Bet if I go lock my room with a deadlock you'll be crying to let be in."

She slipped from his arm ran for her room. The Doctor shook his head and chased after her, grabbing her by the waist before she made it into the corridors, "Gotcha!"

Minerva squealed as they spun around, "Put me down! Put me down!" she ordered in the midst of their laughter.

Donna watched the pair, smiling softly. She could just see how happy they were now. They were nothing like the last time they'd seen each other. Minerva's eyes had changed, her entire attitude. The Doctor didn't look like the cold murderer she'd seen the last time. They were different, and she guessed that Martha woman had a big role in that, along with their new found relationship. She would never stand in the way of that.

"C'mon, Martian, put me down, we've gotta take Donna somewhere fantastic!" Minerva continued to struggle for her freedom, the Doctor refusing to set her on the floor.

"So? She could drive the TARDIS while we continue over here," he shrugged.

Minerva smirked, "Think real hard of what you just said."

Tick, tock, tick, tock...

The Doctor immediately let go of her and ran back to the console, "No driving, Donna Noble," Donna simply raised her hands in surrender, "So, whole wide universe, where do you want to go?"

Donna only thought for a minute when she knew of the exact place she needed to go to, "Oh, I know exactly the place. Two and a half miles, that way," she nodded to the left.

The Doctor and Minerva glanced at each other, confused on what could be only twenty miles away from them...

~0~

Wilf was sat in the hill again, looking up at the sky...when he saw a blue box, "There! Donna! It's... it's the flying blue box!" he shouted, quickly looked into the telescope and saw Donna waving at him from the box, "Huh - what?! That's Donna! Yeah, that's Donna."

Donna stood at the doorway of the TARDIS, waving excitedly at her granddad, Minerva and the Doctor behind, also waving.

"And that's him! That's him! Hey! That's him! Ha-ha-ha! Go on girl! Go on, get up there! Hey!" Wilf did a little merry dance as he watched the TARDIS fly away, his granddaughter finally happy.

~0~

"Doctor? Doctor? Where are you?" Donna's voice rang around the console room, startling the Martian who had been busy "fixing" something on the console.

Her loud voice would surely take some getting use to for sure.

"What is it Donna?" he stood up and fixed himself, turning just as the ginger walked in through the corridors, "Did she hide your room? Because that's completely normal," Donna shook her head, looking a bit serious and concerned, "What's wrong?"

"I was trying to find Minerva, you know, to kinda get to know each other and all, but..." she trailed off.

"But what?"

"...I heard her crying," she whispered, "At least I think I heard her crying..."

"Crying? There's crying?"

Donna nodded and was going to reply but by the time she opened her mouth, the Doctor was already out of the console room, running for Minerva's room. Donna shook her head, something told her this new life of time traveling was going to have a lot of bumps in the road. She only wished she would be able to help Minerva and the Doctor when the time came.

~0~

"Minerva? Open up!" the Doctor soniced her door, bursting inside to see the brunette on the floor, leaning on her side to her against her bed..quietly weeping, "Hey, what's wrong?" he knelt down beside her.

"I did something stupid..." she sniffled, her gaze locked on the floor, her hands put together...holding Martha's cellphone.

"Like what?"

"I called my mother."

"Oh no," the Doctor sighed, immediately seeing the conversation between Minerva and Sophia and all its bearings.

"I thought maybe she'd be a little proud that I graduated," Minerva explained, looking down at the cellphone in her hands, "...but she just yelled and said I could've graduated early like Marisol did," and she burst into tears again.

The Doctor took her into his arms and sat down on the foot of the bed, "Minerva, I'm all for family reunions, but don't you think Sophia has no right for one?"

"But she's my mom," she rested her head on his chest, "I just want her to forgive me. But Marisol has taken my place...she graduated early and-"

"It's okay, it's okay," he rubbed soothing circles on her back, "Look, it's been a good and fantastic day, don't you let someone ruin it for you. Especially people who aren't worth it."

"But she's my mom, she's supposed to care of all these little things," she wiped her face dry of tears, "But she cares more about Marisol."

"You know what, give me that," he took Martha's cellphone from her and started dialing.

"Who are you calling?" she lifted her head.

"Someone who will definitely cheer you up," he grinned. Minerva stared in confusion, hearing another voice on the other line, "Oh, hello! Yeah, listen, Minerva's having a bit of a bad moment thanks to Sophia...but I bet you can help her with that."

He handed the phone to Minerva, "But who is it?" she whispered.

"Take the call and see," he shrugged.

She placed the phone on her ear, looking at the Doctor while she answered, "Hello?"

"Minerva? Sweetie, what's wrong?" Isadora, her grandmother, questioned.

"Grandma..." Minerva started to smile, and even if it was a small one, it still relieved the Doctor that she was starting to get out of this moment Sophia had cursed her to be in.

"What did Sophia do now?" Isadora demanded.

"Grandma, it's...it doesn't matter, now. But listen, I have some news...I did it grandma, I finally graduated."

"Really?" Isadora gasped, "That is fantastic! Congratulations!"

Minerva smiled, hearing a praise from one of her family members making her cry of joy this time, "Yeah?"

"Of course!" Isadora chuckled, "And when you stop by I'm gonna bake you some brownies!"

"Thank you," Minerva sniffled, "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Mhm, congratulations and I'll see you later."

Minerva hung up and looked at the Doctor who had been staring in silence at her face, "You are wonderful!" she threw her arms around his neck.

"I take it you're feeling better, now?" he rested his chin on her head.

"Much, thank you so much. I guess mom just doesn't care about me anymore...well, she never did but, now I know."

"Don't think about that, okay? Sophia doesn't deserve the love you offer to her. Don't waste it on her."

He knew that was her mother he was talking about, but after everything...how could he not say that? He had seen and heard many of the conversations Sophia and Minerva had in the last couple of months. The woman truly had no ounce of motherhood in her. He was actually surprised that Minerva hadn't turned bitter after living fourteen years with that woman.

"I can't help it," Minerva sighed, "I'm her child. I love her."

He rubbed some tears off her cheek then kissed her, "And that shows your big heart. You shouldn't love someone like that."

"I'm tired...and kind of cold," she whispered, wanting to stop the tears that were building up in her eyes and the only way to do that was to stop talking about her mother and Marisol and get to bed. Plus, whenever she felt cold it was just best to sleep it off.

"Alright, I'll be in later with your milkshake," he smiled, softly kissing her.

"No," she held onto his lapels when he tried to move her off his lap, "Stay with me."

"Stay?" he raised an eyebrow.

She nodded, "Stay with me tonight."

"Minerva, think real hard of what you're saying," he warned, both smiling at the words.

"I am," she focused on his lapels as she started blushing, "I don't want to sleep alone tonight. Please stay with me? I'm cold and I need someone to cuddle with."

"Well if I couldn't deny you before we were together, how can I deny you something now?" he recalled his determination before Martha and Jack had gone and now that he looked back on it he really had no idea how hard it was going to be to say 'no' to something his clever girl wanted...except when it harmed her of course like those weight-loss capsules.

Minerva flashed a cheeky smile, "You can't," she said innocently.

He sighed, pretending to be forced to agree, "Well, I suppose I'll have to stay now..."

"Oh admit it, you've been wanting to stay with me for several weeks now..." she trailed a finger down his chest, smirking at the way he stiffened, "...don't think I haven't noticed."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he looked away, his hearts picking up on their speed.

Minerva giggled, pecking his lips, "Time for sleep, Martian," she pushed his coat off his shoulders.

"You definitely know how to make me nervous," he mumbled.

She became serious for one, "You definitely know how to make me feel better, thank you," she pecked his lips again.

"You know I'll always strive to do that."

She nodded and stood up from his lap, going up to her bed, "I know you do, and you always succeed," she pulled the covers down, "That's why I need you in here tonight. I'm cold and I don't feel like crying over my mother," she pulled her jacket off her and threw it to a chair nearby.

"Not on my watch you won't," he came up to her. She smiled and sat on her bed, patting the spot beside her, "You don't want to change, first?"

She shook her head, "Nah, I just want to feel your arms around me tonight."

He nodded and, nervously, went around the bed to lay on her left, wrapping his arms around her. Minerva turned to face him, scooting closer and resting her head on his chest, closing her eyes.

"Minerva?"

"Mm?"

"I'm proud of you."

She smiled, keeping her eyes closed, "And that means more than my mother's words."

With a kiss to her head, the Doctor closed his eyes, both of them falling asleep in each other's arms for the first time.

[thenightling]

Time will Crawl (a short Sandman fan fiction)

Time Will Crawl  

This fan fiction was inspired by this illustration by @artwinsdraws​ 

Disclaimer:  This is a Sandman fan fiction.   The Sandman belongs to Neil Gaiman and DC Comics.  

 Come!  Come! Come!  

 He felt the words as surely as he heard them, faint and echoing in the void.  Old magick.  It had felt it like a tugging at his very soul.  He was too weak to resist the pulling that dragged him down, down, down… Forcibly pulling at his essence.  

 He fell forward and slammed into hard flooring.  He was disorientated at the sudden presence of gravity.  He could feel the magick of the binding circle sealing him in, closing him off from all those who had a psychic link with him within his realm.  He saw them, the mortal occultists, in their dark robes, as they moved to get a closer look at their prisoner.  They moved like a swarm of insects.  He blinked his completely-black eyes behind the tinted lenses of his helm. The tiny star pupils the only hint that there was more than mere darkness to be seen in his eyes.

  He lay there, stunned and …and so very tired…  He had never felt so weary in his long life…   He had struggled so hard against the summoning magick and now he could barely keep his eyes open.   Someone grasped at the helm he wore with both hands. Someone was raising his head, carefully.  They were pulling the helm free of his head.  He felt his own dark fall around his bone-white face.  His cloak was taken.  Now he actually felt the cool, damp of the cellar in English summer time.  Never mind about the cloak.  That could easily be replaced.  He could conjure another… as soon as he was free he could conjure another...  

 He blinked.  The ruby amulet was snatched and finally the pouch that he loathed to be without.  He felt more naked without that pouch than without raiment.  That he could not allow.  He summoned what strength he had left and sat up to reach for the pouch.  He stopped as if there was an invisible wall in front of him. He could not pass the edge of the magical binding circle, which was on the ground around him, and he knew it. His belongings were just out of reach…

 So tired… So very tired… The room was growing dim and the floor was strangely inviting.   He fainted.    

 Trapped. Observe.  Threats.   Patience.   Patience…   Patience…

 It had been years since that first night.  It was midnight though it might as well have been noon down in that dungeon. There were no windows.  He hadn’t seen this world’s sun in almost twenty-three-years.  The only reason he was certain it was midnight was because he had become too familiar with the times at which his guards were swapped out for two new ones.  Their shifts were in six hour intervals.  Sometimes only three hours.  He could only guess at the circumstances that brought about the occasional change. Occasional holidays perhaps?  It did not matter.

 Mortals tend to have this lovely fantasy that time moves differently for creatures such as himself, being ageless and (for all intents and purposes) immortal.   If only that was that case…  If only he could blink and it would seem a century had passed.   No. Sadly, this fantasy was merely that, a fantasy.  As mortals age they perceive time differently from when they were children.   In childhood summers would seem to go on and on. As adults, however, whole decades seemed too short and so they imagine that is how time must be for immortals, an ever increasing sense that this or that passage of time was nothing to them. If only that was the case…

 No. He felt time. He felt time the way mortals do.  Time moved no differently for his kind as it does for mortals.  And in prison it crawled at a snail’s pace.  Perhaps it was even worse for him because, as the living embodiment of dreams, he usually did not sleep.  That meant the third of the day that human prisoners could escape their bonds by entering his world, he could do no such thing.  There was no relief.

       He sat on the floor of the crystalline cage they had placed around him.  The curved glass around him reminded him of a goldfish bowl or crystal ball.  How menacing the mortals managed to seem when looming over him outside of the crystal, where light and size were distorted from his quartz-crystal prison and shadows hung heavy over the glass.  

 Quartz crystal has innate power.   It can contain and confine magick.   It held him as surely as the binding circle around his cage.  They were clever to make his cage out of crystal.  Everyone knows most mineral and glass come from sand. Burnt and reshaped sand.  The thing that he used to sculpt dreams now worked as his cage.  

 He was hungry.  They had never thought to feed him and he was not about to ask.  He was far too proud for that.  And he would not give them the satisfaction to show them that he suffered for not eating.  It would not kill him but he still suffered for it.

He tried not to think about the hunger, that empty feeling gnawing within himself.  Eager to eat just about anything.  Even a baked potato would have been nice.  Do the English still bake potatoes? He wondered.  

He could imagine the taste.  The skin cooked so thoroughly that it was like parchment around the soft white inside that could be crushed by the pressing of a fork.  Flavored with salt, pepper, butter, sour cream.  Perhaps some mild cheddar cheese and crushed bacon.  He wasn’t one for heavy meals but this simple one that he imagined seemed divine.  He could practically taste it.  No. He would go mad if he let himself think about the hunger too long.   Try to think about something else…

 He thought of hob.  He thought of the smell of the Kerosene lamps and the candle wax in the late Victorian pub. The strange sense of warmth and that feeling that was the direct opposite of being lonely.  He missed that warmth.  That sensation of… not-lonely.  

He missed Hob…  

He thought of his own wounded pride.  The anger he had felt when Hob had suggested that they (Hob and Morpheus) were friends.   How foolish he had been to not return to Hob sooner.  Would he ever see his friend again?  

He longed to set things right- to do or say something subtle to admit Hob was right without actually saying the words that his pride did not want him to speak out loud.  He thought of the clever ways he could acknowledge that yes, they were, in fact, friends without uttering an apology or acknowledgement of being wrong.  He couldn’t dare admit, even to himself, that he was wrong.  And it was Hob’s own fault, wasn’t it?  He was the one who had to spoil things.  He was the one who had to go and poke at the situation and demand confirmation.  Why did he have to spoil it by making him have to call their situation a friendship?  

He missed him so much…

  Morpheus blinked.  He was no longer in the pub, storming away from Hob.  He could no longer taste the wine on his lips. His memories were as vivid and real to him as dreams are for most people.  It was as close as he could get to dreaming… remembering…

He was back in his cage.  Staring at the two guards just beyond the glass.  Last year there had been a different set of guards sitting there at this hour.  He had heard their names and he had known those previous guards as Bernie and Frank.

 There were usually two guards at a time watching him but one night Frank had to leave early. And so Bernie started to talk to him, which was surprising and different...

Both men had been stocky. Frank had black hair while Bernie had sandy blond hair.

 “Guess Velma’s finally popped.”  Bernie had said as if the woman was an over-inflated balloon.   He gave a short chuckle.

Was he talking to himself?  Morpheus had wondered.   He turned his head slightly at Bernie in a nonverbal acknowledgement of his presence.  

“Don’t know if you understand me but… you don’t look like you’re dangerous.  I mean no offense but you look like some scrawny kid.   I don’t care if you are some sort of space invader, they shoulda at least given you a blanket.  You’re human enough, even P.O.Ws get clothes.”

Space invader?  P.O.W? He raised an eyebrow. The man’s accent was American.

“You do understand, don’t you?  Look… I… Uh… I snatched the key from Burgess. I can get you out.  I’d thought about doing it before just… I don’t know if you drink blood suck the lives outa people…  I don’t know a damn thing about this…  But you don’t seem threatening. I could let you out…”

Morpheus had waited for the inevitable catch.

“God, I hope you’re not like the aliens in Wells’ Radio Broadcast.  I mean if keeping you here is the only thing stopping an invasion…”

Morpheus stared at the man blankly, trying to figure out what he was talking about.

“Ah, who am I kidding?  You’ve been sitting in a glass box for decades.  I’m sure if there are Martians or Venusians or whatever that are anything like you we could take ‘em.  Just… Go back to wherever you came from, okay…  If you try anything I know I out-weigh you.  Hell, Old Roderick’s kitchen maid out-weighs you.  Alex’s cat out-weighs you.   The point is I could throw you down flat.”

 There was a cat?

 Morpheus stood up slowly.   Was this a trick?   Bernie slid the key into the lock of the cage and Morpheus saw the crystalline panel move for the first time.

“Come on.”  He said.

Morpheus stepped forward but stopped just before he reached the open door of the cage. He couldn’t pass the circle.  He looked down at it and then at Bernie.

Bernie looked confused.   “What’s wrong?  Don’t ya wanna-“  And then he let out an anguished groan.

Morpheus’ own eyes widened.

Bernie had clutched at his chest, staggering back as if on invisible puppet strings.  The old magus, Roderick Burgess, stood at the entrance to the cellar chamber.  As frail and aged as he was he still had magick.   Burgess’ hand clasped as if crushing something invisible.  Morpheus understood the magick involved.  He was crushing the poor man’s heart.

Bernie fell to the floor dead.  He almost looked asleep.  

 The new guards arrived a few hours later…  

 Morpheus blinked and he was back in the present and in the closed crystalline cage. And again he could feel the pain of gnawing and distracting hunger.  He was suddenly curious about Delirium’s cuisine. He had never had a cotton candy soup before… or typewriter flavored marmalade.  He tried not to think about his hunger…

 These new guards barely acknowledged him.  The novelty of his existence had long ago worn off and his strangeness helped stave away pity and help secure his non-human status.  From his bone-white skin and sold black eyes… They could see no humanity in him and so they showed no humanity toward him.  

 How much time had passed?  He could barely see the wristwatch of one of the two men watching him. They sat in folding chairs in front of the cage.  One reading a newspaper, the other reading a pulp novel.  It was exactly one minute after midnight…

 Patience…  

 Wait…

 Soon…

That patience and waiting would pay off on the night the wheel of a wheel chair breached the binding circle that held him.  With the circle breached he could enter the dream of one of his guards.  And then he was able to trick his keepers into opening his cage by pretending to faint within his cell.   It had been a long, long time coming but he was finally free.

[the-desolated-quill]

BBC’s The War Of The Worlds blog - Episode 3

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

You know, people often ask me why I get so angry when I’m reviewing BBC shows. I mean yes I give Disney and Marvel a hard time too, but they don’t get nearly as much bile and venom as I give the BBC. Well that’s because, unlike Disney and Marvel, BBC shows are funded by the British taxpayer through our TV licence fees. I’m effectively paying for them to make this crap. That’s what pisses me off more than anything.

Yes we mercifully come to the end of this... this. Episode 1 was a slow, plodding and utterly tedious affair that was about as exciting as an Amish bachelor party. Episode 2 was even worse thanks to its poor narrative structure, terrible characterisation and less than subtle allegories. Now Harness has come to hammer the final nail in the coffin with Episode 3. Is it bad?

...

You’re right, that’s a stupid question. A more apt question would be how bad is it. Very, very bad is the answer. Very, very bad indeed.

Lets start with the obvious problem. The non-linear narrative introduced in the previous episode. The stupid early reveal that the Martians ultimately lose and that Amy survives completely destroyed any and all tension and suspense thanks to Peter Harness desperately trying to outwit the audience instead of just telling a story. Now, bizarrely, he tries to reintroduce tension by having the characters umming and arghing about what killed the Martians off and whether this could help stop the Earth from terraforming. One teeny, tiny problem with this though. The audience already know! Even those that never read the original book know how it ended! And even if you didn’t, the episode drops enough hints like great fucking boulders. The prevalence of typhoid throughout the episode and its correlation with the Martians stumbling around like a drunken prom date isn’t exactly hard to miss. Harness’ writing is still as unsubtle as ever. But worse still, he completely undermines and misses the point of the ending to War Of The Worlds.

One of my biggest pet peeves is when people (mostly Americans) criticise the end of the original book for being a deus ex machina. I mean the Martians get killed off by the common cold. How stupid, right? Except it’s not because those people (mostly Americans) are looking at it the wrong way. Your main takeaway shouldn’t be that the Martians were easily killed off by bacteria. Rather that we failed to stop them. The reason humanity prevails in the end is more down to luck than anything else. The narrator even attributes this to being an act of God. But here’s the thing. We didn’t stand a chance against the Martians. We didn’t beat them. They lost because they just happened to catch a cold. Now it’s not hard to imagine a society as scientifically advanced as their’s to be able to find some kind of cure or vaccine for it. And if and when they do, what then? We’d be fucked, wouldn’t we? Should the Martians ever return to finish what they started, the human race would be well and truly doomed. It’s not a deus ex machina. It’s a dire warning of what’s to come. A brief respite before the inevitable. That’s what makes the ending so effective.

The BBC series however completely misunderstands this, changing the story so that Ogilvy (an astronomer, don’t forget) somehow manages to weaponize typhoid in order to kill the red weed, which is presented as some kind of victory, when in reality it’s quite an insulting deviation from the source material. If only the Commonwealth could shake off the remnants of British colonialism as easily as these guys dealt with the red weed. Not to mention it just makes the Martians look really stupid. So they come to Earth, drink our blood, keel over and then... what, they just give up? Are they just waiting for humanity to die by itself? What happens when Mars HQ realises the red weed hasn’t worked? What then? Are they just going to shrug it off? It doesn’t make any sense.

Which brings us to the Martians themselves. The picture above comes from the Jeff Wayne musical version and is without a doubt the most accurate depiction of the Martians from the book. Most of the other adaptations have wildly different interpretations, which isn’t a problem in and of itself provided it works within the context of that particular narrative. However the reason I bring up the original design is so I can talk about what H.G. Wells intended when he came up with them. See, while the Martians are highly intelligent, they’re also presented as being quite vestigial. They’re sluggish thanks to Earth’s heavier gravity, rendered practically deaf thanks to Earth’s dense atmosphere and apparently have no organs with which to digest their food, hence their need to inject human blood directly into themselves for sustenance. The Martians represent what humanity could become as we become more and more reliant on technology. The Industrial Revolution brought about a lot of societal fears and concerns at the time, and the Martians are those fears manifested. Heartless creatures reduced to being simple brains, unable to properly interact with the world around them.

The BBC series goes a very different route. Instead of the giant brains, we instead get giant brown crabs, which, again, isn’t necessarily a problem provided it works in context. And that’s the problem. It doesn’t. The original Wells design told us what we needed to know about their biology, their motivations and their society. What do we learn about the BBC Martians? They’re big, generic monsters that look like rejects from Stranger Things. They don’t even inject blood into themselves. They feed off of us directly, leechlike. They’re more like animals. Not the vast, cold, unsympathetic intellects they were described to be. At no point do you buy that these creatures would be capable of building the Tripods or colonising the Earth. They just exist for some cheap jump scares and horror movie cliches.

What’s worse is that by changing the Martians’ design so drastically, any subtextual allegory gets chucked in the bin. The Martians from the book are meant to represent the British Empire at the height of its power. Merciless tyrants stomping all over the lives and cultures of the so called ‘lesser races,’ changing the environment to suit them rather than adapting to the existing environment. It’s Darwinism crossed with arrogance. And yet, ironically, the oppressors (the Martians) are technically inferior to the natives (the humans) as they are incapable of surviving without the aid of technology. The BBC series is unable to make this allegory, so Harness has to resort to straight up telling the audience the allegory. In by far the clunkiest scene in the entire series, we see George argue with his brother about how the Martians are no different from the Brits in their colonial ways. Not only does this break the ‘show, don’t tell’ rule and stands as a perfect example of bad storytelling, Harness doesn’t even bother to do anything with this other than just making the comparison. It’s been previously established that Amy was born and raised in India. You’d think she’d have something to say about all this, but nope. At the end, she wistfully describes India to her son in the most patronising and insulting way possible. It’s really quite disgusting. I mean H.G. Wells was quite patronising towards the Tasmanians in the book, but in his defence, he was a privileged white man from the 1800s. What’s Peter Harness’ excuse?! Ostensibly he pays lip service to the idea that the Martians are no different from the Brits, but he doesn’t want to really explore it or get us to actually think about it. Probably because it’s all a bit too complicated to get into, but if he’s not confident about exploring such topics, why the fuck is he adapting War Of The Worlds in the first bloody place?! Write something else!

In fact I think this is the root of all the problems with this adaptation. Harness clearly isn’t capable of exploring the complex themes of the source material, so instead he either introduces irrelevant social issues that aren’t nearly as complicated (women’s rights, empires are bad and so on) as a token show of progressiveness, or he goes as far as to uncomplicate themes and ideas to an almost offensive degree. In the book, the narrator is trapped in a church with a priest who is going through a major existential crisis and risks giving away their hiding spot to the Martians, who are busy terraforming the planet. So he resorts to knocking the priest unconscious and watching as the Martians drag his body away. In the BBC series, we see the old woman and the kid get killed off for no reason other than shock value and the characters have nothing to do with their demise, so they’re morally in the clear. The priest meanwhile doesn’t even appear in the scene, instead being relegated to the shitty flash forwards where his faith remains very much intact and even protests against the idea that it’s humanity’s illness that stopped the Martians rather than an act of God (brief side note, would Ogilvy really be this open about not believing in God? At the time of the book’s publication, the scene with the priest losing faith was considered extremely controversial, so this just seems utterly wrong). Plus there’s no tension in wondering what the Martians are doing and whether they’re going to find the characters. In fact there’s no tension whatsoever because we know the Martians have fallen ill and the characters are just hanging around, waiting for the fuckers to die. I cannot stress enough how atrociously awful the writing is in this show. We know the Martians are dying and the episode is about the characters waiting for them to die.

Jesus fucking Christ!

The Artilleryman from the previous episode was the same. In the book he was a deluded crackpot who willingly bought into imperialist dogma, believing that humanity could rebuild underground and eventually rise up and defeat the Martians. In the BBC series, he was a scared, innocent little waif being forced to fight in a war he wants no part of. It’s an incredibly shallow and uninteresting reinterpretation of the source material.

But the worst, the absolute worst, is what Harness does with George.

To be clear, no I’m not upset he gets killed off. I’ve made my views on him quite clear. He cheated on his wife because she was infertile and ran off to make whoopie with some redhead. The bastard deserves everything he gets, frankly. Plus I’ve had enough of Rafe Spall’s gormless acting to last a lifetime, thank you. What I am upset by is the way he gets killed off.

One of the most interesting parts of the original book is the fact that there are no heroes in War Of The Worlds. The Artilleryman is a young, impressionable, nationalist fool, the Priest descends into a pit of nihilistic despair, and the narrator survives only by his cowardice. He even goes as far as to attempt suicide, throwing himself in front of the unbeknownst to him dead Tripod because he cannot bear the idea of living in a world like this. It’s extremely dark and very cynical. The BBC series goes a very different route. We see George slowly become delirious as a result of the typhoid infection he got by drinking the poisoned cup of water in the previous episode (so all that stuff about the Martian terraforming was a load of bollocks) before, realising that he is becoming a burden to Amy, deciding to make the supreme sacrifice and facing the lone Martian alone while she makes a run for it. Not only does this open up a major plot hole - who the fuck was Amy expecting to arrive from the North if George is dead? They try to dismiss this as memory suppression, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t apply to losing a loved one to a fucking alien - it also completely stands at odds with the themes of the book. When facing annihilation at the hands of a higher power, the arrogant Brits, who previously lived a life of privilege on the backs of millions of subjugated, reveal themselves for who they truly are at their core. The BBC series says yeah, we were a bunch of racist tosspots with delusions of grandeur, but we weren’t all bad. The main takeaway I got from this despicable, badly written series was a three hour pity party about how all those selfish POCs don’t consider the feelings of white people and asking why can’t we all just get along.

Peter Harness’ bastardisation of War Of The Worlds is without a doubt one of the worst adaptations I’ve ever seen. In fact it’s quite possibly one of the worst TV shows I’ve ever seen, period. It’s not just the sheer disregard for the source material that upsets me. It’s also the absolute amateurish nature of the whole fucking thing. This series fails in some of the most basic ways. His writing is truly terrible, somehow getting steadily worse and worse with each episode. It’s not just upsetting to see someone get the fundamental elements of storytelling so spectacularly wrong, it honestly makes me sick to my fucking stomach. Peter Harness, please, for your own sake and my sanity, stop fucking writing. You’re clearly not good at it and I don’t want to see my money go to someone who obviously hasn’t the faintest fucking idea what they’re doing. Enough is enough.

So it would seem that Jeff Wayne’s musical version remains the best adaptation of War Of The Worlds. In fact can we just have a movie adaptation of that please?

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Elkhorn

Jesse Sheppard and Drew Gardner joined forces as Elkhorn in 2013, Sheppard on 12-string and Gardner on 6-string. Together they’ve made a string of gorgeous duet albums on Feeding Tube and now Beyond Beyond Is Beyond records, while supporting the growth and scholarship around American Primitive guitar playing in a variety of ways. Sheppard, in particular, has been active in organizing the 1000 Incarnations of the Rose festival and documenting players including Glenn Jones, Nathan Bowles, Chris Forsyth, Ryley Walker and others in video. Their latest album, The Storm Sessions, comes from a snowed-in session in Brooklyn when a cancelled concert turned into a prolonged and graceful meditation on the possibilities of guitars and guitar-like instruments.  In her review, Jennifer Kelly wrote, “… a tribute to filling in the quiet spaces that have arisen unexpectedly out of chaos and disappointment, but which are, themselves, very peaceful and beautiful.” Drew Gardner contributed this list.

I put this list together with the thought of talking about some music that overlaps with elements of The Storm Sessions. There are several shared elements at play in these records: songs using longer durations that unfold in suites, improvisation, the blending of several genres-sounds-traditions, gradual development, the use of calm/blissful moods, and players who tend toward letting the music guide the playing.

Mary Lattimore —The Withdrawing Room, “You’ll Be Fiiinnne”

The Withdrawing Room, harpist Mary Lattimore’s debut album, unfolds beautifully with delay-soaked harp mixed with bubbly psychedelic electronic textures courtesy of Jeff Zeigler. Lattimore knows how to use patience to build a feeling of calm tranquility and often walks her harp figures beside a stream of contrasting ambient sound. She glides though different sound areas without trying to push the songs around, letting the music be. The results are lovely and dreamy.

Maya Youssef —Syrian Dreams, “Queen of the Night”

Maya Youssef is an expert player of the maqan, a traditional Middle Eastern plucked instrument in the zither family. She grew up in Damascus and now lives in England. Defying the tradition that only men could play it, she has innovated the maqan as a solo instrument beyond its conventional use in larger ensembles. The instrumentation on Syrian Dreams is maqan, percussion, cello and oud, the textures of which blend into sets of suites that seem to tell many stories. This is a record of original compositions of Middle Eastern music that seamlessly incorporate the sounds of flamenco and jazz. Somehow Youssef’s group also reads like a freak folk chamber band. She’s unafraid of the healing power of music, and she connects her compositions with both the ancient and the difficult recent history of Syria.

Sunburned Hand of the Man—Headdress, “Shitless”

Gloriously lo-fi collage-ist space jams, cohesive in their disjointedness. Like GBV, the low fidelity makes it more intimate. As with most of their catalogue this is a head-trip and also a lot of fun. This record puts all the myriad things they’re capable of into perfect balance: uniquely fried “Massachusetts dub,” comical Dadaist prank-chants, slow loose funk grooves with all kind of friendly space debris orbiting around. Each song has at least three different genres melting in and out of it, and it all sounds like a party. They don’t order the tunes around, they let what’s happening happen. There’s plenty of improvisation here, but without a big demand for the guitars to need to get anywhere—what a relief. They’re happy being where they are, floating over the rhythm section and soaking in the cascades of color, relaxed and weird-blissful.

NNCK—Qvaris, “The Doon”

NNCK went to great lengths to secure certain freedoms, especially freedom from fame and freedom from commerce. Those freedoms are put to great use here and the result is a floaty ego-differed collective texture and with a groove and a vibe. It feels like all the players are steering the boat. Everyone is thinking about the total sound and the overall flow. Everyone’s in charge and no one is. They improvise and move from zone to zone, sound world to sound world. There are trippy drones, ritual percussion, and calm, bizarre and soothing textures. The songs sound like they’re improvised in a way that allows them to be self-assembling/self-disassembling ensemble music. It sounds like life forms are evolving. The various combinations of different elements create a lot of variety as the landscape scrolls by. Need some dilating texture-walls shifting into a bonus of damp squishiness? You got it. Need some mescaline-fueled post-rock? You got it. Rustically glowing biomechanical insects morphing into autumnal haze? Yup. Malfunctioning alternate-dimension windchimes into Dada kabuki Muppet theater? Cannabinoidosaurus Rex chill out wedding music into Martian organ grinder swing winding up at third-pot-brownie-surf-rock? You get the idea. There’s something for everyone. All the song/soundscapes flow through these ecosystems with a “how did we get here?” effect. The players find different windows in the soundscape. It never feels crowed. Sonically occupying the space they’re in, they let the music become itself rather than trying to control it.

Joshua Abrams Natural Information Society—Mandatory Reality, “Finite”

I first heard this record last year in the Elkhorn tour vehicle while Jesse and I we were driving from the Milwaukee Psych fest to Chicago. It turns out that being stuck in a car for several hours moving at twenty miles an hour in a white-out is the perfect context for experiencing this music. There was something about the slow speed, the need for concentrated attention, and the monochromatically unfolding landscape that really enhanced the experience of the music. Abrams’ use of slow tempos, repetition, long durations, gradually shifting textures and cycles of chords and melodic figures was perfectly mirrored in the snowy drive. He allows the music to repeat and unfold without needing to rush in contrasting sections or motifs. It’s patient and languid and mesmerizing. Done in real time with no overdubs, it blends several sounds beautifully: minimalism, Gnawa music and modern Chicago free jazz. At times it feels like a radically becalmed Braxton Ghost Trance piece transmuted into something like the spacious Tabla Tarang playing of Pandit Kamalesh Maitra or the straight 8ths of Gamelan music with John Luther Adams-style long tones stretched over it. When we arrived in Chicago the snowstorm had abated after the long drive, and as I stepped out of the car into the slush I felt refreshed rather than exhausted.

Pauline Oliveros with Stuart Dempster and Panaiotis—Deep Listening, “Lear”

Deep Listening was improvised with no overdubs using just-intonation accordion, trombone, didgeridoo and voice in a cistern in Washington State that once held two million gallons of water. This space featured a natural forty-five-second reverb. As dolphins know, reverb is a kind of image—information about space in sound form. On this record the players, the environment and the instruments all combine to become intertwined into one system. I’ll let Oliveros say it: “The Universe is improvising and we have evolution, so improvisation is always happening.”

Cul De Sac—Immortality Lessons, “Blues in E”

Cul De Sac featured Glenn Jones on electric twelve-string guitar before he turned to solo acoustic music. The band played improvised instrumental rock that crossed over several genres: Krautrock, psych-rock, surf-rock and American Primitive. This record was recorded live at a college radio station in one take under less than ideal circumstances and it’s a great example of turning lemons into psychedelic lemonade. This music flows and develops in suites, using various groove/dissolve/solo patterns than unfold with an expansive vibe. Everyone in the band is thinking about the whole arrangement, not just the parts. It’s genre blending, full-band texturing and rewards repeated listening. One can only hope for a reunion one day.

Marisa Anderson—The Golden Hour, “In the Valley of the Sun”

The Golden Hour is a record of solo fingerstyle electric guitar improvisations recorded straight to tape. It sounds like she’s doing variations on open themes and the results feel modern/spontaneous and composed/traditional at the same time. She has a warm, woody guitar tone, often tastefully overdriving the amp in a lush manner, using a nimble rhythmic gait. This works as psychedelic guitar music and at the same time resonates with the old American music traditions she’s connecting with. Her blend of genres is country blues, country and western, and folk, put together in concise songs that always have a coherent flow of ideas with sometimes subtle hints of deconstruction. She’s not afraid of the pleasures of meandering. This is music that sounds like it’s dreaming through guitar history as a kind of meditation.

Shivkumar Sharma and Zakir Hussain—Rag Madhuvanti, Rag Misra Tilang, “Rag Misra Tilang”

Shivkumar Sharma plays the Santur, an Indian box zither, not unlike a western hammer dulcimer. Sharma is credited with bringing this folk instrument, normally associated with the Sufi music of Kashmir, into Indian classical music. Indian music involves several of the elements I’ve been discussing in this list: long duration, improvisation, and drone. There’s something about the cascading overtones of Sharma’s Santur playing that reads as especially psychedelic, unfolding in undulating patterns using his knowledge of tabla rhythms. He wasn’t afraid to risk innovation and prove that a folk instrument could be used for high art. This album is mesmerizing, beautiful, and rejuvenating.