nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: what?
astronaut: *loading a pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: what?
astronaut: *loading a pistol* moon’s stuck in a time loop. do you have extra ammo? this won’t be enough.
nasa employee: enough for…what?
astronaut: *finding extra clip of ammo, pocketing it, and getting back on the rocket-ship* don’t worry about it!
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: what?
astronaut: *emerging from supply closet with a space harpoon, getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early astronaut: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: what?
astronaut: what?
nasa employee: how did you know what i was going to say?
astronaut: *punching in key pad code for base evacuation signal, getting back on the rocket-ship* i told you…moon’s stuck in a time loop.
*red warning lights begin flashing*
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: what?
astronaut: *rifling thru bookshelf of operating instructions, selecting one that says “AIRLOCK MANUAL OVERRIDE INSTRUCTIONS,” getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: what?
astronaut: moon’s stuck in a time loop. hey, do you have anything to eat? i’m starving. *opens random drawer, finds nothing, closes it*
nasa employee: a time loo- uh, we don’t have food in here…we can’t…eat in the control room, only the break-room.
astronaut: *sighs*
nasa employee:…my lunch is in like 10 minutes, though, and if my lunch is actually STILL THERE and not STOLEN, AGAIN, i can share it with yo-
astronaut: nah, that’s ok…no time. *loading a pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* or…too much time. but thanks, anyway. OK, bye!
*alarm begins blaring*
nasa employee: you’re…welcome? wait, a TIME LOOP?!
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: yup.
nasa employee: …?
astronaut: *sitting down next to nasa employee* so…do you ever like…wonder what the meaning of life is? the secrets of the universe?
nasa employee: aren’t you supposed to be ON the MOON?!
*alarm begins blaring*
nasa employee: hey, what the hell is that?
astronaut: that’s the code red override klaxon. moon’s stuck in a time loop. oh, and there’s an explosion imminent. But don’t worry, we can deal with that tomorrow. So, you have any siblings? *pulls beer out of space suit, cracks tab* want a drink?
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: do you know frank in IT?
nasa employee: what?
astronaut: do you know frank, who works in IT?
nasa employee: yeah, but why are you guys back so early?
astronaut: moon’s stuck in a time loop. call frank, tell him there’s a virus in the security patch and the system’s compromised. then get the hell out of the base.
nasa employee: wait what? what? where are you guys going?
astronaut: *loading a pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* back to the moon. it’s stuck in a time loop. call frank!
nasa employee: *picks up phone* ugh, straight to voicemail. i wonder wha-
*alarm begins blaring*
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: *grim silence*
nasa employee: i said, you guys are back early…hey, what are you…?
astronaut: *randomly opening drawers until they find a pair of scissors and some duct tape, getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: what?
astronaut: *loading a pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.
*sticks head back out the door of the rocket-ship* by the way, if you go to the break-room in exactly 2 minutes and 45 seconds, you’ll catch the person who’s been stealing your lunches for the past two weeks.
nasa employee: what?! WHO IS IT?!
*alarm begins blaring*
nasa employee: *running for the break-room* FUCK!!!!
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: what?
astronaut: *sits down, sighs, pulls a beer out from their spacesuit* moon’s stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: …ok, and? hang on, how did you get a beer? you can’t have that in here.
astronaut: what do you know about project floyd?
nasa employee: I mean, the usual amount? i’m not really on the project anymore, why?
*alarm begins blaring*
astronaut: COME WITH ME TO THE ROCKET-SHIP, we don’t have ti-
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: yeah. moon's stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: what?
astronaut: *loading a pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop. see you tomorrow. maybe.
nasa employee: WHAT?!
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: what?
astronaut: *sighs, rubs hands over face, and loads pistol, before getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop. and, uh…you should call your mother like you’ve been meaning to. and tell her you’re not actually mad and that you will come to dinner tonight. you’re gonna be hungry.
nasa employee: wait, what? WHAT?? how do you know my mom?! why am i gonna be -
*alarm begins blaring*
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: what?
astronaut: *grabbing two pistols, an extra box of ammo, a pair of scissors, some duct tape, a space harpoon, and a booklet of operating instructions that says “AIRLOCK MANUAL OVERRIDE INSTRUCTIONS,” starting to get back on the rocket-ship, but dropping everything with a horrendous clatter* FUCK! goddamn moon’s stuck in a time loop.
*alarm begins blaring*
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early
astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: what? also, hey, where’d you get that duffel bag?
astronaut: *grabbing two pistols, an extra box of ammo, a pair of scissors, some duct tape, a space harpoon, and a booklet of operating instructions that says “AIRLOCK MANUAL OVERRIDE INSTRUCTIONS,” shoving them into the bag, and getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back earl-
astronaut: *grabs nasa employee and kisses them passionately*
nasa employee: what? WHAT?!
astronaut: *loading a single pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop, sweetheart.
nasa employee: what?!?
astronaut: a time loop!!! i love you!!! get out of the base!!! stay alive!!!
nasa employee: *presses fingers to lips, confused but intrigued, as alarm begins blaring*
nasa employee:….
nasa employee:…
nasa employee: ho hum what a regular day at the office
*alarm begins blaring*
nasa employee: what the hell is that?!
nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back earl-
astronaut: *grabs nasa employee and kisses them passionately*
nasa employee: what? what?! WHAT!?!? also, hey, where’d you get that duffel bag?
astronaut: *grabbing two pistols, an extra box of ammo, a pair of scissors, some duct tape, a space harpoon, and a booklet of operating instructions that says “AIRLOCK MANUAL OVERRIDE INSTRUCTIONS,” shoving them into the bag, then cupping nasa employee’s cheek with free hand* moon’s stuck in a time loop.
nasa employee: the moon’s stuck in a what?!
astronaut: a time loop, sweetheart, but we don’t have much time ourselves, so you have to listen to me RIGHT now
nasa employee: *faintly* …“sweetheart”?!
astronaut: in 2 minutes and a few seconds, you need to go into the break-room and find frank.
nasa employee: wait, frank from IT?
astronaut: yes.
nasa employee: how do you know he’s gonna be in the break-room? i can’t just call him at his desk right now?
astronaut: how do i know this?! because, one, time loop, ok? and…also…because…heismaybetheguywhohasbeenstealingyourlunchfortwoweeks
nasa employee: that BASTARD i KNEW it
astronaut: BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT’S IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW. hey! listen to me! go in there, catch him red-handed with your burrito, and tell him lunch is on you FOREVER if he goes RIGHT NOW and checks the last security patch - because there’s a virus and the whole system’s compromised. then you need to get the hell out of this base, ok?
nasa employee: …ok. ok. and…and what about you?
astronaut: *cocking pistol and getting back into rocket-ship with duffel bag* me? i’m gonna shoot for the moon.
EPILOGUE:
nasa employee: so, how many loops in total?
astronaut: i mean, it was hard to keep track. somewhere around six months, if i had to guess.
nasa employee: damn.
astronaut: yeah.
nasa employee: and in those six MONTHS, the best zinger you came up with was “shoot for the moon”?
astronaut: hey, you know what, i had some other stuff on my mind!
nasa employee: i mean, i guess. it sounded like you found time to flirt with me each time.
astronaut: yeah, like i said. other stuff on my mind.
*they look at each other, blush, and look away*
astronaut: sooooooo. you’re sure your mom is cool with me coming over for dinner?
nasa employee: can’t make the day any weirder. plus, i owe you for ratting out frank, right?
astronaut: he did help us save the world; we can’t be too mad at him.
nasa employee: you’ve had a little while to get over it, i might need some more time. and it wasn’t even your food!
astronaut: ok, that’s fair. what if i buy you lunch to make up for it?
nasa employee: hmm, when?
astronaut: tomorrow?
nasa employee: well, i’ll have left overs from my mom, and you might too if you play your cards right. day after tomorrow?
astronaut: honestly, anytime is good for me.
Once when I was in undergrad, someone described something as “problematic” in class and our professor was like, “That’s cool, but ‘problematic’ doesn’t really mean anything. It means that the thing you’re describing has a problem, and in and of itself that’s not bad. Art, especially, should always have problems, or else it’s not interesting and not art, either. It sounds like you’re trying to say that this is bad, but you don’t want to say ‘bad.’ Is that right?”
So from then on whenever one of us called something problematic, he would make us talk it out until we could name the “bad” thing we were hinting at. In this particular class, 7/10 it was some type of oppression, and the remainder was like, “I’m uncomfortable because this is very new/confusing/pushing boundaries that made me feel safe.”
Once we stopped calling things “problematic” and stopping at that, class got way more interesting and... we all had to say, like, “that’s racist” or “that’s misogynistic” or “ew capitalism gross” out loud, which a lot of us had never done in a classroom before. Or we had to be like, “Uhhh... I’m not sure what’s so bad?” and confront our own beliefs and that was maybe even more useful.
Anyway. Whenever I see the word problematic, I can’t help but think of this professor being like, “Good starting point, now let’s get specific.” I think when we have to commit to saying “that’s ___” it requires a lot more careful thought about the truth and impact and complexities of whatever we’re claiming. Sometimes there really is some bullshit afoot, and also sometimes it’s art, and it should be full of problems, because that’s what art is.
Must not pick that scab off. It will not in fact get rid of the scab and just create a different scab. The scab is not done cooking yet. I am completely normal about scabs. <-gripping the edges of his chair so tightly the wood is starting to crack
Woke up this morning thinking about how Wicander genuinely thinks that no one in the Convergence actually likes him that much aside from Tyranny. Literally has Tyranny telling him “those people suck. those people hate you. I’m the only one who you should trust.”
Will he ever actually know that with his dying breath Teor was still thinking about protecting him?
she is a princess and you are a dragon. she will be married tonight. do not keep standing outside of her room like that, go inside. go get her. that is what proper dragons do.
not that you have ever been a good or proper dragon. when you hatched out of your egg, your eggtooth was too smooth. the other dragons were rough with you, put little holes in your wings.
you were not bold. you were odd. you liked rippling water and the shine of chitin when bugs scuttle and of course the movement of the stars. those were all acceptable interests albeit maybe not traditional. perhaps you had inherited these through some great-great-uncle or something. certainly a dragon may be wise, or clever, if they are not bold.
yes, you have been a great deal of a puzzle to the other dragons. your body is smaller and rather more soft than it ought to be. so speed should have been yours, perhaps - your mother said it would be like fighting a shadow. if a dragon is not aggressive, it may instead be cruel, sly; a backstab. but alas your scales - so iridescent that they almost shine like the moon at night, a glow from within - you are not a shadow, you are a beacon like the flash of a knight's blade. your father has said at least you would make a fine egglayer, a nice mate to a good male. a dragon like you may still be a good mother perhaps; and that is a fine thing to be; although of course it would have been better if you'd been a trove-hoarder instead.
what a dragon must not be is kind.
you have watched her now for six moons. what a good and proper dragon would do is to go inside and to snatch her. a very proper dragon would have kidnapped her many times over, but you will be the delight of your brood to princess-snatch even at all. when you catch her in your jaws and bring her home, they will love you, then. they don't think you're capable of it, but you are, because you're a proper dragon. you can show them that. if you go in, now, right now.
you are rather too glossy to hide in the shadows, so instead you have learned how to appear flat and round, a puddle of light. (how your siblings would mock you! a dragon should be matte, to blend with the night). you dapple your flank with mud. you perch in odd angles atop of trees, scuttle like the bugs you love - hither, tither, frantic.
what you must not do is fly with your wings full-out. alight, you will be limned by the moon's corona. you will be a beacon. you must remember this when (not if) you snatch her.
____
you found her because of the lake. this lake in particular was your favorite - nestled deep in the woods, between two mountains. it is very quiet; there is nothing to horde there so no other dragon bothers you. a gentle waterfall spills over into a deep cove, and there are many mossy caves you've spent your afternoons napping in. while it is not proper for a dragon to prefer such things, you like to lay in rolling tenure just under the water. you have become excellent at holding your breath, can do it for hours. it is the easiest way to appear as a patch of sunlight.
she was not sunlight. she was the night's joy. the dark press of water. her face at first concealed by many diaphanous layers. her breathing quick and quiet.
she had pulled them back to drink from her water flask. and there she had been: a princess. your first very-real princess. right there, only the reach of a single talon from you. if you had simply lunged then, you would have been able to take her easily, in one single movement.
but you did not take her.
she had startled you a bit; you'd been daydreaming about music, which you'd just discovered, and rather liked. you'd heard it from a little house while you snuck in and stole their sheep.
but you knew the sound of fear, of being followed. you'd been chased too many times, you knew what it looked like. the rapid jolt of fear.
you smelled her then; cinnamon and onyx, and perhaps that was what had blinded you. perhaps your mouth was just watering. whatever the case, you waited until she had fled back into the forest; and then you waited a bit longer. in her wake, a garrison of men, their hands rough.
oh. so they were not knights. they were just men chasing a young woman through the woods. perhaps they did not even know a real princess had been running from them. well, that was a relief. you are not good at fighting with knights, who have swords instead of cudgels. these were just men, so you rose from the water in the quiet way you'd learned from the fish. they did not hear you coming.
and besides. proper dragons do violence so well.
___
once you had smelled her you could find her, although such things have always been easier for you than for the others. you spend a great deal of time studying things - it allows you to analyze them. you have tried to explain to the other dragons that sometimes it is best to slow down, but of course no dragon should be slow.
at first you did not understand the confusion of the people's umwelt. they relied so much on their communication (only words and actions!) and what they could see with their eyes. you and the other dragons did not use these as much; but you liked prying out the little sonic differences between hello that means "i like you" and hello that means "i don't like you."
so it took you a while to learn that you were responsible for what had happened to her. men had gone missing, and even bad men going missing makes a big fuss. (you know that if it had been girls missing, it would be okay. many proper dragons steal girls because it will not bring a knight to their door). for a while she had been trapped on the palace grounds. it was determined that it was no longer safe for her to be just a princess, she must undergo some human transformation and become a wife.
even so. you had gone looking for her (only to study, of course, so you may know how to snatch her best). but that night you saw her descending from the window of a castle, quick and agile, moving like a whisper, clad almost entirely in black. you could see her quite well of course, although you were not seeing her; but instead her heat and her smell and her sound and all the other sensory noise all humans give off.
you followed her, keeping yourself in a cloud so you appeared as if mist. she stole off into the woods. you were interested in that, and watched her scuttle - although of course you could have taken her then, you wanted to study your prey as best as you could. she did not seem to do much in the woods, only run around cry into her little hands.
she appeared to be looking for something. she did not get far that first night; scurried back to her bed. over and over this happened - she would run as far as she could, only to go back again. it seemed rather boring to you, but of course you had been free your whole life.
and then one night - finally, she arrived at the lake. she sank to her knees then, her hands pressing into the water. her head tilted to the sky. her dark hair spilling in a caught breath behind her.
this is how you heard her voice for the first time. when she came again the next night, she did so more quickly, more assured. straight to the lake, as if it had called her.
she had skipped a pebble over the surface of the water. this action was dangerous, because it almost hit the sail of your wing. you had structured yourself very finely to look like a rockslide.
"three months." her voice was like her: it was deep and smooth and dark, a low violin string. "they want me to marry that bastard in three months."
and then she cried into her hands again, and the sound of it almost broke you.
you followed her maybe more than a proper dragon should, after this. more than just back to the castle and her bed. you hid along her daily walks and watched her in the throne room and saw her out riding horses. she was good with dogs and nice to her people and very much a proper princess, although you had heard it said a proper princess ought not to slip out at night and run around barefoot through the woods.
you discovered she is terrible with directions. you have often had to make a path more clear so she could get home again. she cannot hunt better than an egg; you have had to kill fish and push them subtly up to the shore.
but she appears to love the lake as much as you do. you have seen her read by candlelight (how foolish. the entire woods saw her each time). you have seen her build little paper boats to float along the surface. you have seen her strip her many layers and dive in, have seen her lay with her belly to the sky, floating like she is suspended by the hands of darkness itself.
oh. so she loves the stars, as well, then.
__
you must go in. she will be married tonight. that is a human thing, but you have since learned what it has meant. she will go to somewhere else, and you will not see her again, maybe ever. and then how will you be a proper dragon? go!
you have made yourself in the form of a gargoyle, hiding in the white stone. you can see into her room; and the tapestries that seem unlike her. everything in her room is very bright, which is bad for a proper dragon. there are many knights in the hallways and in their rooms, and their smell is itchy and repugnant to you.
her dress is white, which does not seem like her. you have only seen her wear black. she is sitting at some kind of desk, and she is crying again. she smells of cinnamon still, but moreso of grief. you can feel the heartbreak in her as if it was inside of you.
you cannot watch her cry anymore. you have watched too often without moving. that is shameful.
you nose the door open. you can move quiet, because you are not very big. she is within a cave of you, then a wingtip, and then she is standing up, looking into your eyes.
"it's you." her hand on your jaw is warm. "i thought i was imagining you, you know. i turned around that day. i saw what you did to those men. i have been looking for you since. i told everyone that i had an angel to protect me. they locked me in here anyway."
you are not an angel, you are a dragon. you have to keep your wings locked tight or you would explode the walls of this place. it makes you feel big, suddenly. you are not used to that sensation. you do not like to be locked in a tower. you believe maybe the princess does not like to be locked in a tower either.
you take her in your jaws. she is very small, and does not resist you. although you are not a strong flyer, you must take off in a single push. any other movement would be too slow. you must also hold your breath so you do not smell her, the clove and cinnamon and little bird of hope. your mouth would water and you would drop her.
against the full moon, you do the thing that is impossible. you stretch yourself out all the way, a bold and beaming arrow, and you fly. you can hear them cry about you now, loudly. a banner that would strike pride even into your father: dragon. dragon. dragon.
on the eve of her wedding, you snatch the princess from her tower.
an arrow whisks for you, and then dozens, and then hundreds. you are not afraid of pain. you have learned long ago how to fly with holes in your wings. you hold her very gently still, and you push past the smell of your blood.
in the night you are a star. someone somewhere could look up and see you and make a wish.
there will be another lake, you decide. you can find another lake. somewhere very, very far from here. however long you must fly, however long you must hold your breath: you will take her home, because you are a proper dragon.
___
sometimes they come for her, your treasure. you have built her a little castle here, deep in the forests off the map. and of course for you: a silver round lake like the shift of her iris. you bring her books and she brings you bugs to study. you let her saddle you, and together you ride through the clouds and fog banks. she is a shadow on your back; a warm and velvet thing. she makes you music and lives the way she should; free in the night like a promise.
but they do come. you have stolen a real princess, and they do not want her to be a princess. they want to make her into a brood mother, or into bait, or into prey. they always look into the caves first; into the places proper dragons stay. they are real knights, not just men with sticks. they are loud and their smell still makes you itch.
but she has made you brave now, and cunning. if a dragon is not big, it should be cunning. and since you are a proper dragon, and since your treasure is your most precious thing, you lay in wait.
let them come. you will let the light drip off of you, and then you will pour through them.
afterwards, your princess will tell you a story around the fire. she will patch your wounds as she did that first time. she will sing to you.
and in that moment, neither of you will be a title nor a story. she will just be herself, and you will just be you.
Is your Dungeons and Dragons character too happy? Are they too settled into their life and thusly require some kind of personal tragedy to motivate them to leave it and take up a life of adventuring? Try Primus Tachonis!
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I had intended my character to have a tense but ultimately repairable relationship with his father, but then my DM used Primus Tachonis to rip his skull from his head. Now my character is on a quest to kill every member of Primus' noble house! -Matthew Mercer
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