Fuck AI, look at my handsomest boy instead, he helps me in the garden by digging holes next to where I am digging. He is not helping at all, but I appreciate his spirit, we are bonding.
Alright, brain; I guess we're doing this. And by 'this', I mean 'gosh that certainly is 10 pages of outline so far'.
I'll dust off the ol' AO3 when I have a better idea of a) how this all fits together, b) if I've nailed down the character voices, c) how the tags for Bloody Mary work, because there seem to be a lot of them.
But I do like to start off with a little bit of the dramatically ominous, so let's play with that. I can organise (and title) it later.
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Words: 430
Warnings: None (yet)
Fandom: Iron Lung (heading for BloodyMary)
Summary: (Possibly chapter introductions?) The observer effect; the observer's effect, and thoughts on hope.
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To observe something is to change it; however small a change that may be.
Despite what certain over-idealistic misinterpretations of quantum mechanics might suggest, this effect does not actually rely on some unique existential property of a conscious viewer. Itās about the interaction needed for measurement: how the camera intercepts that photon; how the thermometer absorbs a little heat; how the wave function collapses, regardless of your opinion on its resolution.Ā
To observe something is to change it.
That part, at least, stayed true.Ā
It was everything else that went wrong.
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The first time was a glimpse; nothing more. A fleeting moment of attention, an idle flicker of interaction that took hold of the very bones of reality and broke them apart at the marrow, leaving nothing but ghostlight and darkness and blood in its wake.
The second time, things looked back. Asked ā screamed ā begged ā for answers that could not fit into the shapes of them. Flesh and mind and fear, tearing apart and roiling back again ā unable ā unwilling ā unmade ā and again and again until something tore itself away and plunged back ā down ā into the remnant waves.
The third time brought no questions. Only the one mind; held barely together by ancient, desperate desire, and every drop of him burning with it.Ā Ā
I just want to live.
A god makes sense of what it sees, despite what it should be.
I see you.
I see you.
Agreed.
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There is a very old power in hope. It is the flipside twin to despair, close as faces of a coin,Ā and both of them terrible in their own way.Ā Despair crushes and enshrouds; muting and muzzling and murmuring its soft words of surrender. To give up; to give in; to accept a thousand deaths in as many different ways, because inevitability always wins out. Despair smothers, and it strangles, and yet may even offer a seductive, compliant comfort in its embrace.Ā Ā
Hope, though?Ā Hope will burn in you; a brilliant, bloody pearl of wish and will that this does not have to be.Ā It is bright, and is blinding, and it is a shield and a northstar and it will not let you rest.Ā Hope is poison and panacea and everything between, its light sometimes barely a flicker and sometimes a sunburstās heart. It is vicious, and it is divine, and it dances along outstretched hands and beneath broken fingernails clawing at the mud.
They are the daughters both of chance and change, and in each lies a seed of the other.
Checking in with Theo Jansenās Strandbeests, kinetic machine sculptures that move under their own power along the beach. Some of the most recent versions are quick fast and can even tow humans along behind them.
I often say "Grace, Simon and Chell were all unwillingly signed up for something by a woman who was thinking about the bigger picture" but GLaDOS really doesn't gaf, she just wanted to throw Chell around like a ragdoll in those tests
Amused by the frequency of posts in the BloodyMary tag of folks realising they are in fact Back On Their Bullshit by noting similarities between Ryland Grace and Simon vs. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes (at least aesthetically, in a 'having a type' fashion).
And then there's me over here, idly spinning up the ol' body horror engine while very aware that my mental touchstones for 'blond scientist with potentially self-destructive levels of curiosity' and 'tall, dark and vaguely eldritch' are a little different.
Iāll still take the chance to show mutuals that this is about the 130th anniversary of HX Cruises (formerly Hurtigruten) and the 1896 style cabin they built on MS Fritjof Nansen to commemorate the first expedition to Spitzbergen:
Guests can book the cabin for one night during their 2026 itineraries. Those who donāt want to book the cabin, can still tour it inbetween bookings. All proceedings made with the bookings go to their foundation.
They used reclaimed timber and tried to source as much as possible from antique dealers. They also developed a special aged timber and sea air scent thatās used for the cabin.
Guests booking the cabin will still join everyone else for dinner and breakfast and wonāt get 1896 style catering. š
looking for animal references on image searches has always kind of sucked but it's much worse after AI image generation technology has begun to actually past muster, which is why i always just go straight to inaturalist. can't recommend this highly enough. you get to both find out about niche species you've never even heard of and also see some really good photographs like this one