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#decals #tees #throwback #miamivice #quantumleap #timetravel #scifi #ateam #y2k #millenniumbug #aesthetic
timetravel
#Wss366 #circuit #TimeTravelAuthors #Many
Voice 1: Be careful. That #circuit board is delicate.
Voice 2: Don’t worry. I’ve done this #many…
[ZAT!!!]
Voice 2: Shit! I just flash-fried the future!
Edited 47d ago
#ScribesAndMakers Sep 1:
I am an author of #Sapphic-fueled #Mythpunk serials: #Yuri (Japanese-style lesbian romance), #UrbanFantasy, & #TimeTravel.
I have 3 complete & 2 new self-published serials (Time-Travel & Urban Fantasy)
Bijou the Time-Traveling Ghost
- PIXIV Link:
- AO3 Link:
- In serialization
For Love of a Konbini Idol
- PIXIV Link:
- AO3 Link:
- Three complete volumes
My Girlfriend Almost Got Me Killed (R18)
- AO3 Link:
- Complete
Arisu: The Girl Who Saw Ghosts
- PIXIV Link:
- AO3 Link:
- Complete
Airisu: The Crow and the Witch
- First serialization now on the Fedi. Will be revised for broader release later.
I also write JP-style #Poetry: Haiku, Tanka, Renga, and Rengay.
And I am an urban photographer,
#ScribesAndMakers September 22: Promotion day. Self or someone else. Or both.
Folks my have noticed I post ongoing serials on the Fedi. I later gather these up, edit them, fix mistakes, and post them as a 2nd ed. improved version on #PIXIV and #AO3
I am currently running #TimeTravelingGhost, a #PulpFiction inspired #TimeTravel novel.
Time travel is generally regarded as impossible.
This is wrong.
Time travel has been invented at least a hundred times since the discovery of electricity.
So why don't more people know about it?
Well, it is because there is a problem with it. And everyone who discovers it falls for the same trap.
In order to travel in time, you need to be able to detach yourself from your local frame of reference. This is easier to achieve than you might think.
Once detached, you can travel back and forth in time freely, safely contained in whatever life support system you have devised. You can even snatch small items from the static times, and collect air and water - all without reconnecting to a local frame.
And that is the problem.
Reconnecting.
This requires much, much more energy than disconnecting. And the amount is exponentially affected by the amount you have travelled from your local frame.
Not how far you currently are from your local frame, but how far you travelled from it in total.
If you travel a single minute, you will need approximately twice the energy it took to disconnect. Two minutes, four times. Even if you travelled one forward and one back, that is still two minutes, and takes four times the energy. And it is proportional to the mass of the object being returned.
Most time travellers try for at least ten years for their first trip.
Exponential growth is a bastard of a thing if you are at the pointy end of it.
On the positive side, those of us who have made this mistake can communicate and interact. There are lots of us, really, but none of us have the energy required to get home. Or anywhere but where we are. Outside of time.
We have learned that we do not age out here. And we keep meeting new people. Maybe at some point we will find the people who can undo our mistakes. But it will probably take all the energy of our universe to do it.
Delivering this message took nearly the effective output of two megatons of TNT. And it consists of a handful of electrons. I'm sure you can do the math.
Please, do not follow us.
#SF #SFF #SciFi #TimeTravel #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting
Chantelle listened to her mother coughing. It had been going on for a week now.
She looked at the cupboard door. She was not supposed to use the night hinge. Tonight, though, she was.
Opening the door the wrong way needed some pressure, but it gave way, and opened into a hallway of quiet magnificence. Provided you ignored the mess of scuffed and filthy shoes by the door. Although, as scuffed and dirty as they were, they were of the finest construction that she had ever seen.
There was a table by the door, simple and unadorned, but constructed with absolute perfection. Upon it was a small pile of money. Unfamiliar to her, but clearly money. She left what few coins she had, and took the pile. The door gave way easily to her hand and she went out.
She had been here before, but always with her mother. It was night. The cupboard door only opened at night, and it was always night where it opened.
She walked down the streets, lit by strange yellow lights that hurt the eyes to look at. Carts rushed by at impossible speeds, with bright lamps shining ahead, and red lamps behind.
Ahead, two people walked towards her with fierce determination. A man and a woman, dressed strangely,. She dropped her head as they approached. They greeted her with a bright cheer that was at odds with their determined walk. She made a small noise. It may have been a squeak.
Just a little ahead was her destination. A shop, lit up as though it was day.
She went in. Doors opened with unseen hands.
All around her were a bewildering array of shelves and jars and boxes. Ahead was a counter, with a girl around her own age.
Swallowing, she went up. "Pardone, ma mere, elle tousse."
The girl frowned for a moment "Ma mere?" and then her eyebrows went up "Oh! Your mother! Uh, tous?"
Chantelle coughed.
"OK, your mother has a cough."
What followed was a combination of mime and two languages. The girl at the counter knew a handful of words that Chantelle spoke, but no more.
Then the girl got out a slab of black glass, and made words appear on it. And then the slab spoke! And she could understand it!
A little while later, Chantelle left the shop, carrying a small bag. Inside were some pastilles and a potion. Along with strict instructions about the potion.
She re-entered the house, and went through the cupboard door in the hallway.
Back in the room at the pension she shared with her mother, she gave her a precisely measured amount of the potion.
The cough eased, and her mother slept at last.
-----
Warwick paused on his way out to the shops, and saw that the grocery stash was about half what it should be. In amongst it were some old coins. "Hey Mum! Our ghost is back! She's nicked about thirty bucks, but she left some really neat old coins!"
He picked one up, and inspected it. "They look French!"
"We'll take them to a collector next week" his mum called back.
#SF #SFF #Scifi #TimeTravel #GhostStory #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting