forward in time

#Our Destiny Lies Ahead In the scheme of things, Oakland wasn't very far to discover the future. Tucked away in the hillsides in a neighborhood of houses built in the late 70s, each one quirkier than the last, was a small a-frame house, with a swinging sign: Geraldine Grey, CPA & Psychic. The smell of lilacs and honeysuckle filled the small courtyard behind the metal fence, and a small bench overlooked a pond of koi, busy and bored in their tiny ocean. Larissa led Reed to the door, letting him pull the heavy iron door knocker, but barely a breath after the thud rang out, the door opened to a small appraising woman, large black-framed glasses and straight gray hair cut to a bob. "Come in, you're late," she said, not waiting for the pair at the door before disappearing into the home office. The floors wooden, the ceiling tall, the walls covered in collections from around the world: butterflies, photographs, masks from Africa, South American weavings, everything hung with care and dusted frequently. Ris nodded ahead, following the short woman into her office, equally cluttered with history and life. "Alright, have a seat," she said, gesturing with knobby hands at the two chairs in front of her desk, the sole point devoid of clutter. An old wood desk, with only a blotter, an expensive looking pen, and a name plate reading the same as the sign out front. [[Welcome to Geraldine's.]]

"Now," Geraldine said, taking a long serious look at the two sitting in front of her, her pale blue eyes deep as the ocean. "How many times have we talked?" [[First time.]] [[We’ve been here before.]]

“First time,” Reed said, with a sidelong glance to Ris, a little quirk to his expression because already this was not at all what he expected. Not that he really knew what to expect at all — this was Ris' recommendation, a little adventure that Reed's endless curiosity wouldn't let him resist. What was a person supposed to ask a psychic, anyway? He could think of a few areas of his life that could use some advising, but Reed was reluctant to seek council from even the people closest to him, let alone a stranger. "Sorry, I'm not sure how any of this works," he confessed. Geraldine's expression didn't change, but something in her eyes shifted, clouded and then unclouded so quickly it was almost imperceptible, except it made Reed frown quietly in curiosity. "Well, you'll practice," she promised him in a reassuring tone — whatever that meant. Ris returned Reed's glance, her own smile a bit warm and familiar to this kind of sideways talk. Geraldine wasn't one to pussyfoot around, and if she said they'd be back, Ris believed her. "Geraldine is looking for a repeat customer," she joked, nudging Reed's elbow, but the flat stone surface of Geraldine's face quickly put a stop to that line of comedy. "Don't worry, doctor," Geraldine continued, "This will feel very old-hat very soon, and I imagine we'll be seeing more of each other. We should start with what your intentions are today. Are you looking for guidance, are you looking for answers to some question, or are you looking for affirmations? Confirmations of something you assume to be true?" [[What was he looking for, exactly?]]

"We've been here before," Reed answered seriously, appreciative of Geraldine's ability to cut right to the heart of things. A psychic — who knew what the other Reed had been thinking, why he’d come here, but that was only a small part of what Reed and Laura were here to figure out now. How many times was he going to have to wake up again and again to this day, to the same calendar notification for an appointment with a fortune teller. "We need to ask you —" Geraldine held up a hand, cutting off his urgent mission with the efficient gesture, the way her deep blue eyes squinted briefly at him, equal parts mystical warning and petty annoyance at this man who thought he was going to ask the questions here. "What do you remember about the last time? Be specific, search deep." Reed looked to Laura in a moment of hesitance, unsure what to say. [[The Hermit -- you need to take this journey alone.->Loop 01]] [[Two of Wands -- you are not ready to make your move, plan before proceeding.->Loop 02]] [[The Tower -- self-destruct so you can re-build and re-focus.->Loop 03]] [[Fear death by water?->Loop 04]] (if:$loop04 is "seen")[[[You yelled at us.]]] (if:$lesson is "learned")[[[It's not about the past. We've learned our lesson.->Loop 999]]]

“Palm reading,” Reed answered, “You read my palm.” Geraldine nodded sagely. “Many things lie, but the lines of your palm never will. Show me your hands.” He turned them over to her wordlessly, and Geraldine inspected them. “These lines have more questions than answers, Reed,” she said, fixing him with a level, penetrating gaze. “In fact, which Reed are you today?” [[The Scientist]] [[The Fixer]]

Geraldine, in all her gravitas and mystery, rolled her eyes completely, as if Reed had just told the joke she must have heard a thousand times. “This isn’t a T.S. Eliot poem, Mr. Richards,” she said. “You could have just said you don’t remember.” “Well, I --” Reed started again, and he was met with Geraldine’s abrupt gesture for silence, her expression completely disinterested in any explanation or treatise on the significance of modernist poetry he might offer. “And yet,” she continued, speaking over him without shame, “I do see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.” Her eyes fixed on Laura sharply. “And you two do seem to find yourselves in quite the wasteland, don’t you? Alright. We’ll take it from the top. I don’t usually repeat myself, but seems like a special circumstance. Don’t worry, you’ll tip me extra for it.” "Walking around in a ring?" Laura repeated, furrowing her brow as she looked back at Reed, before mouthing MMA? But after a moment, she understood, and nodded, turning back to Geraldine. "No, Ms. Kinney. Not MMA. That comes later, and you will need it," Geraldine sighed, beginning to rub her temple. "Alright. I have read the lines of your palms, I have spread the tea leaves and turned the cards. There's only one thing left to do for you two." Geraldine reached into a drawer of the desk, pulling a red velvet bag and setting it on the surface. "You need to ask a question, one question between the two of you, so make it a useful one. And we'll ask the runes." (set: $loop04 to "seen") [[We’ve been to that bar before, haven’t we?]] [[What were Van Allen and Larissa seeking?]]

Reed woke up alone — not unexpected, at this point, to find himself creaking to life from the futon in the middle of Van Allen's office at the laboratory, but certainly a departure from the regular rhythms of his life that always began and ended next to his wife. Sue, Johnny, Ben. Reed hadn’t found them yet, or they weren’t shifting along with him, only time would tell. And speaking of time. Reed groggily checked the date on Van Allen’s phone. The same notifications he’d cleared out before. The same calendar alert for a psychic appointment. According to theoretical physicist Carlo Rovelli, time is an illusion: our naive perception of its flow doesn’t correspond to physical reality. Indeed, one could argue that reality is just a complex network of events onto which we project sequences of past, present and future. The whole Universe obeys the laws of quantum mechanics and thermodynamics, out of which time emerges. Ergo, whether he’d cleared out those phone notifications yesterday or tomorrow, before or not yet, they were there now, blinking up at him under a numeric representation of a point in time that should have inched forward but had not. Ergo, time loop. Great. Secondary data confirmed the hypothesis, as Reed moved around the Van Allen laboratory. The tinkering he’d done yesterday, vanished. All newspapers, clocks, and computers displayed the same date: yesterday’s, which was also the illusory today’s, and the ambiguous future’s. Even the petri dishes, whose bacteria should have grown exponentially since last being examined displayed no such change over time. Phone calls to Liam, not Johnny, and Stella, not Sue, followed their same course. For a factor of loop quantum gravity, the universe seemed suddenly remarkably small. And then — the variation. Where previously Van Allen’s phone had been quiet all day, this time it lit up, a one Larissa Kennedy dialing in. [[Don’t answer.->Just wait.]] [[Pick up.]]

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Laura asked, clinging to the vermillion tower, halfway up, avoiding looking down as much as she could. "This is a long way up, and an even longer way down." But if Reed Richards had an idea, it was usually good. Usually good but dangerous. Laura would just have to trust him. The fog around them would help keep them out of sight of security, police, anyone who might want to stop them, but she doubted it would help much with their own visibility. They'd already learned how quickly they'd be spotted, but having timed the police cruised that went by at exactly 3:12 PM, starting to climb at 3:15 allowed them exactly twenty minutes to get up to the top. It was now 3:33, and they were only halfway there. “We need the altitude,” Reed answered her in short explanation, calling his voice out against the noise of the wind around them. What had been a light breeze down below, keeping the fog swirling in their cover, was growing increasingly insistent as they rose up the tower. His long elastic limbs were stretching to find rare handholds in the steel, but the length of his body was just giving the gusts more to push against, and the weight of the equipment on his back wasn’t helping the physics of the situation either. If their time loop was more than just twenty four hours, they’d have had more options in dealing with obstacles, but there was no room for strategy in a situation like this. “We have to get a message out. It’ll work as long as we can get to the top.” Gritting his teeth against a particularly strong blast of air, Reed stretched up again for another grip, something to leverage against to take another overly-long step upwards on their climb. His fingers gripped metal, he shifted his weight, and -- damn it, the absolute wrong timing, as the wind kicked up once again and caught him, sending his legs flying away from the tower metal, dangling in the open air. [[Try to get back on track.]]

“A journey alone,” Geraldine echoed sagely, nodding. “But there are two of you. Which one took the voyage?” [[Reed.->Loop 01 Reed]] [[Laura.->Loop 01 Laura]]

(set: $laura01 to "seen") The day started with a thump and a hiss. Laura woke up in a different bed, staring up at a different face. Whiskers, wide bright eyes, and a snarl of tiny teeth. “Oh,” she said, the cat on her chest hissing at her. “Oh!” She sat up suddenly, sending the heavy, angry cat stumbling down her chest to her stomach before hopping off the bed and retreating to the couch to stare at her. “Uh.” Laura looked down at her hands, smaller, neater than her own. Scars marked up her arms — real scars, ones that lingered, ones that didn't fade away. All of this was new, different, and as Laura pulled herself out of the bed, she realized this was Larissa's apartment. This was Larissa's body. Who was Larissa? Why did she know that name, that face, that story? The alarm went off, the radio clicking on to the local news. A story about a crane crashing into a car, nearly killing a woman. Laura blinked a few times; she'd heard that story before. Maybe it happened again. With a growling stomach Laura stumbled towards the kitchen, looking for some way to ground herself, something to eat. She remembered, in some weird foggy place of her brain, the pizza from last night. Opening the fridge, the shelf was bare. She closed it again, brow furrowed. What about the chicken nuggets she picked up the day before? She opened the freezer, then closed it again. Laura hadn't eaten them. Larissa hadn't eaten them. Yet, there was nothing in the fridge, except — Laura opened the fridge again, finding an old tupperware full of something growing green. She definitely emptied that yesterday, Everything was different, and the same. Everything felt so strange, and she knew she wasn't who she was supposed to be. Was this a trick, was this another snap or hex or something she couldn't explain? As Laura looked at the fridge, her phone — Larissa's phone — buzzed, and she saw the calendar reminder: //Reed + Geraldine at 2pm//. Wait. Didn't that happen already? Didn't this day happen already? Laura wondered if she was walking through someone else's dream, but like a thief tiptoeing through the night, she would do her best to repeat what she remembered, leave no marks, change no history. It was all she could offer to the woman whose body she inhabited for some reason, for some time. [[For some purpose unknown.->Welcome to Geraldine's.]]

There was a routine to it now, one Reed found reassuring, not only because he always appreciated a protocol, but because he liked knowing that no matter the situation, no matter the universe, he'd always found a way back to Sue. A lesson perhaps for Van Allen to learn as well. Stretching, just slightly beyond the reach of Van Allen's normal reach with elastic limbs, Reed crossed the lab towards the coffee machine as he flicked through the other Reed's phone, hitting dial on Dr. Stella Sawyer. [[He was ready to connect with Sue in her altered form.]]

Johnny — was the other man even awake yet? But not a bad idea, considering he and Sue seemed to be just as connected in this universe as they were in their home one. They were likely together anyway. Making a question that was often in the back of Reed’s mind come to the fore: why wasn’t Van Allen with them? It wasn’t an unusual setup for a multiverse, parallel connections amongst alternates, the way so many Reeds in the Interdimensional Councils had a Sue and a Johnny by their side, at least had been affected by her in one way or the other. And the ones that had lost their family — well, the research was clear. The multiverse was a dark and empty place for those Reeds, and the vastness of the cosmos all too quickly led to madness. So what to make of Van Allen’s distance in that regard? “Johnny, it’s Reed,” he said into a voicemail inbox, an expected outcome, “Confirming yet another shift, and currently at the Van Allen laboratory. I think we’re a little overdue for a family training day. Meet me here with Sue when you’re ready.” [[He waited for the return call. It never came.->Just wait.]]

Call Ben — Reed had to smile at his own instincts. If only it were that easy, dial up the big lug, his best friend and the ally Reed would always want at his side. It hurt that they’d never been able to find him during these shifts, it felt like a failure. But Reed knew what the cure was for feeling like a failure — solve something. The Van Allen laboratory was an unfamiliar one, filled with inventions half-finished and calculations still being processed, whether by the bay of churning supercomputers or, apparently, Van Allen himself, given the annotated white boards lined up against one wall. Reed didn’t know exactly what they were all for, but it wouldn’t hurt to poke around a little, give the other man a nudge here or a hint there. For as much as Reed might critique Van Allen’s approaches, his apparent preference to work in isolation and the frequent oversights of what he created, there were good ideas there. So he toyed with machine wiring, tended to petri dish samples, recalibrated gamma ray settings and checked the math on a particularly ambitious solar-swing for time travel technology, unhappy that it was even here — lofty beyond where Van Allen’s mind could be trusted, a matching note in Van Allen’s phone under the contact //Mimi, 1957// — until Reed found something the other man hadn’t accounted for: Entropy. The end of all things. The forward, unrelenting, progression through time. Reed grew distracted, trying to correct all the errors, trace the logical fallacy back to it’s root. Where had it all began, where had it all started to go wrong? Van Allen was a developing mind, clearly, but not one so gullible to follow a flawed argument this far. The morning turned to afternoon and evening, with Reed counting backwards up the chain of equations and tangents, experiments in progress and those only theorized, but no matter how meticulous he was, it all took him back to a scribbled note in the middle of a wall-spanning calculation — solve everything. The center of gravity, the thing it all came down to, the point of contraction poised to swallow everything else back up again. [[It all put a chill down Reed’s spine.->Just wait.]]

The day passed. The apparent existence of time — in our perceptions and in physical descriptions, written in the mathematical languages of Newton, Einstein and Erwin Schrödinger — comes not from knowledge, but from ignorance. ‘Forward in time’ is the direction in which entropy increases, and in which we gain information. Closing his eyes to go to sleep, Reed noted that it was not a day that could be considered forward movement at all. [[He promised himself he’d try again tomorrow.->Welcome to Geraldine's.]]

“Hello?” Reed said with caution into the receiver. "Hey, Reed," Laura said, with a measured laugh. "Hey it's me - La- I mean. Yeah. Laris - Ris. Hey. It's Ris, daddio." This was a mistake — Reed knew it instantly. Hadn’t he learned anything from his phone misadventures the day before? Better to leave Van Allen to be Van Allen and simply try to stay out of the man’s social life as much as possible. And yet, what had caused this anomaly in the loop? “Ah,” Reed said, putting on a familiarity he had absolutely no way of confirming — how did Van Allen even know this woman? “Yes. Ris. My… friend.” That seemed safe, and if it was wrong, well, at least the time loop would wipe her memory. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” This was fine, totally fine, and not at all a weird thing to happen or have to do. "Hey, yes. Friend. I uh. I wanted to make sure we were still on to go to the psychic?" she said, checking her schedule again and again. This was the right Reed Van Allen, and they were going to Geraldine's and it was going to be super easy. What Laura remembered, it was just an easy conversation and then around the corner for a snack. "Do you want me to drive?" she offered, either unaware or forgetting that Larissa Kennedy had never in her life driven a vehicle of any variety. Now Reed was frowning into the phone — that calendar notification, looping through time and space to keep appearing on Van Allen’s phone again and again, had specifically said //pick up Ris//. The time loop had never deviated this much, certainly not to the point where set plans were being changed by the people who inhabited this little pocket dimension. “Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?” Reed hedged, mind flying as he tried to calculate variables and butterfly-effect changes that would cause this, and coming up empty. Like we suggested?" [[Oh, fuck.]]

"The scientist," Reed answered her. "Yes, you are quite the mind," Geraldine agreed, eyes back down on his hands, "And that mind is preoccupied with fear. You're right to be afraid, Reed, the worst scenario you can imagine is coming to pass." Her gaze snapped back up at him in an instant, as if she'd just noticed something, and when she spoke again her voice was different in pitch, her eyes clouded over again like she was seeing something no one else could. "You have made a grave oversight, Reed. You know what I mean by that." For a second Reed felt the guilt come over him, he wanted to explain, wanted to justify himself, but Geraldine didn't give him the chance. "Maybe it's not too late," she said, "There's something you can do. Seek council." Her vision snapped back in an instant, unclouding and refocusing on him with a sour twist to her lips. "And when you talk about this later, don't say my magic is just science you don't yet understand. Some things are beyond even you, Reed Richards." [[Try again tomorrow.->Welcome to Geraldine's.]]

"I'd call myself a compulsive fixer, I guess," Reed confessed, all too aware it's the truth at the heart of things. Geraldine blinked at him thoughtfully, silence stretching. "You're here a little early, and normally I don't do this kind of thing, but sure. Let's take a look." She took his palms in hers, frowning at them, like she was bracing herself for something, for a spirit to channel through her or a pulse of psychic energy to send the room rattling, but when Geraldine spoke again, her tone was frank, like a friend giving honest advice. "Two people close to you are going to try to drag you into their fight. I'd tell you not to let them, but you will anyway. I see you giving a speech, not the one you're planning for. Hm, what else. It's okay to accept help from others -- that's not a prediction, just a good thing for you to hear. Oh, and I don't mean to rush you, but when you get a chance, you tell that girl the truth. Doesn't have to be everything, but you're going to need her around. You'll find out soon." It was so much information so quickly, Reed wished he'd been taking notes. He must have looked bewildered, overwhelmed, genius brain frying itself out trying to figure out how she could know all this, because Geraldine gave his hand one last pat and reassured him, "Don't worry about it, you're not going to remember most of this. You're dreaming. Stop taking those sleeping pills, they're not good for you. We're not going to meet each other until next week, but you'll find that out too. Buy Ris a drink after you stop by, you owe her one." [["Wake up now, Reed."->Welcome to Geraldine's.]]

(if:visits is an even)[In a long series of time loops, Reed found comfort in the little things. A friend and ally. A morning walk through the city. A familiar waitress. A cup of coffee so bitter and dark the taste of it would almost burn the bad memories right out of him. Almost. With a sigh, Reed placed the mug back down in its saucer, that same old chipped porcelain on the same old linoleum tabletop in the same old greasy spoon on the same old first time he’d ever been in here. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat as he broke the same old morning’s awkward silence. “I don’t think we’ll be trying that idea a second time.” "No, probably not," Laura returned, unable to find his eyes, her own gaze living far past the window. Her hands wrapped around the coffee mug as she tried to sip away the memory. [[Try again tomorrow.->Welcome to Geraldine's.]]] (if:visits is an odd)[After every time loop, Laura tried to remain positive. At least she had a friend, traveling the same road. The same, same, same, same, same road. At least she could enjoy a cup of coffee, sweet and light, and order an extra side of bacon, crispy just the way she liked it, and know the chef in the back would perfect it. Enough crunch to forget whatever mistakes happened the day before. Almost. With a frown, Laura ran her finger along the rim of the mug, wondering if today instead she might order something different, try something new. Maybe Laura would become the kind of person who drank black coffee. As if every other new idea lead them somewhere great. "Well, that was a lesson learned," she said, trying to hold onto some optimism, even as she wanted to take a nap. "But maybe let's not do it again." “Certainly not,” Reed agreed, pointedly tracing the crack in his saucer with an idle fingertip rather than look up at her. A few more days like that one and he’d have to devote some time to a memory wipe device. [[Try again tomorrow.->Welcome to Geraldine's.]]]

The message, the message. Laura told herself to put her doubts aside, because again, if they failed, it was just one day wasted, and who knows how long they'd be in this time loop, but damn if the pain wasn't real. She ratcheted herself up another few feet, holding tight to the tower, when she saw Reed's body catching the air. "Oh, no!" she breathed, tense teeth against the bitter wind, as she reached out to grab hold of the scientist before the wind blew him away. But even as Laura stretched out to grab his outstretched stretchy limbs, a white mirage flashed in front of her face. "Ack!" she breathed, jerking back, alarmed by something so close to them this high up. A million stupid ideas came to mind before the fluttering of wings, and the divebomb of talons at her face. "No!" she cried, batting away the birds, awakened from their nest to find two persons just outside their door. The birds attacked, pecking at Reed's ankles, at Laura's hair, insistent against the intruders. Flailing like a windsock in the air, Reed did his best to kick at the birds, nothing more than seagulls really although ornithology wasn’t quite the priority in this moment, and interrupt their attack on Laura. “I think I knocked over their nest,” he cried, shortly before he also took a mass of feathers and tiny pointed bird claws to the face as the gulls rounded on him for his clumsy attack. Twisting away, squinting against their onslaught and still trying to reach a solid foothold despite the wind, Reed’s mind was in overdrive trying to put together a revised plan here. [[We're going to have to try something else.]]

“We’re going to have to try something else,” he shouted to Laura, “Our window is closing by the second. Grab onto me and I’ll toss you up the rest of the way.” Reed wouldn’t be able to get back on the tower until the wind died down, but there was a chance he could help Laura make it to the top and start setting up until he could meet her up there. The fog was turning darker around them -- was it starting to rain? "Toss me??" Laura repeated, her voice high and tight, as she returned her gaze back to Reed, her hands tight on the ropes holding them up and keeping them from plummeting to their deaths, again. With a few heavy huffs of air, she let go with one hand, reaching out for Reed's outstretched limbs. "This is a bad idea, I don't think we should do this, and I would like to go back to bed," she muttered to herself, before pushing off of the tower of the Golden Gate Bridge, to cling to Dr. Reed Richards as the winds blew harsh stinging water in their faces and the birds for a moment seemed to be blustered away. But it could only last for so long. It was a maneuver Reed had practiced a thousand times with his teammates, able to toss Sue or even Ben into the middle of a fray as necessary, counting on the elasticity of his limbs to catapult them with a surprising accuracy. Laura’s weight would help weigh down his stretched limbs, help him recover a semblance of control, and with a single toss she would be able to bond up the remaining height of the tower without him. If anything, it was too easy -- and that’s why of course it would go wrong. He had her for a split second there, catching her outreached grasp with his free hand, the one that couldn’t manage to grasp the narrow handhold above but could certainly capture an easier target like Laura, but between the rain and wind, she was slipping from his grasp, Reed fumbled, a note of horror being torn from his lips as the dire situation became all the more desperate. “No -- Laura -- hold on.” [[Throw her now!]] [[Wait to get a better grip!]]

Laura let out a sharp cry, managing to reach out with her second hand and grasp onto Reed's wrist. Her bone claws split her skin, but it was just enough extra snag against Reed's sleeve to keep her from slipping from his wet grasp. "Throw me, now," she shouted, eager to get this over with, to get somewhere warm, to find herself elsewhere, maybe in bed. It had been quite the gamble, but there was no time to reflect on how lucky they were that it paid off. With a quickness that bordered on instinct, Reed let the rubber of his arm, carried by Laura’s weight, sink down and then bound back up, waiting until the exact right moment at the apex of the lift to release her like a slingshot, a catapult. And just like that she was out of his grasp again but thankfully this time with far more control in the motion, a spring-loaded jump to get her up to the top of the tower where she could begin unpacking the transmitter that Reed had cobbled together from pieces found in Van Allen’s lab and get a signal out of this time loop. There was no room for failure in the plan, not the slip of a hand or the threat of birds and not even a strike of lightning -- whatever the challenge was, they had to meet it. With a newfound determination that came from the close call, Reed found the strength to wrest himself out of the wind, running up the side of the metal tower using his plasticized grip on the top as a belay to leverage himself against for more stability, following Laura to set up their signal. Laura had done this before, being tossed like a grenade. Usually, it wasn't on the top of the Golden Gate Bridge, but she'll take what she can. Her bone claws raked the metal as Laura caught herself at the top, careful to keep from overshooting the entire tower. She found the top flat, grabbing and beginning to unpack the transmitter. It took longer but soon enough Reed was able to haul himself up onto the platform as well, limbs retreating back to their normal length and density, grounding him against the wind whipping around them. “Amazing work,” he said to Laura, impressed and grateful for both her bravery and her skill -- as in most things, Reed never would have made it alone. A few more pieces to assemble, a flip of a switch, and the machine powered to life with a pulse of blue energy. “We have enough time to get out one message before our window closes -- who should we target?” [[Spiderman->Call Peter.]] [[Iron Man->Call Tony.]] [[The Fantastic Four->Call the Fantastic Four.]]

Laura let out a sharp cry, managing to reach out with her second hand and grasp onto Reed's wrist. Her bone claws split her skin, but she didn't have the control she used to, too outside her body, too disconnected from her past by the shift. "Reed, no," she screamed as her claws sliced cleanly through his wrist. There was nothing to stop her from plummeting into the cold dark bay, the surface of the water hard as concrete. There was nothing to hold onto except Reed's right hand. “Laura -- no.” The words were torn from Reed’s lips on a hoarse shout, watching her and his severed appendage disappear into the mist and the water beneath it. Losing a teammate was an experience that was always devastating, losing a hand to her bone claws was a pain Reed almost couldn’t even process through the shock. He dangled in the wind, stranded, alone, unsure if he should keep climbing or simply surrender to the fate that seemed to refuse their plan today, until the choice was made for him -- a pair of seagull’s claws, straight to the face, and suddenly Reed was tumbling down too, faster, and faster, until dark water closed over him. [[It all goes black.->trauma diner]]

Peter — the odds that the other man was both outside of the time loop but in proximity of technology that could answer a message like this was high, and one of the few minds Reed would trust to use it. He was the right choice, Reed was certain. A few keystrokes to enter in Spiderman’s unique multiversal signature — boy was Reed glad he’d started that database years ago — and the transmitter began to self-calibrate, orienting and reorienting itself, before the recording clicked on for a message to be sent. “Peter,” Reed said urgently, “Laura and I need your help. We’re trapped, not in space, in time. I need you to get to the Van Allen laboratory, there’s equipment there you can use to reach us. Peter, you’ll have to —” And no matter how much Reed had accounted for every little setting on this machine, every quantum calculation and cosmic arc that it took to beam a message around the sun and back to its desired target, in a split second the one thing he hadn’t accounted for was revealed to him. A giant piece of metal on top of the Golden Gate Bridge? It was the world’s most advanced lightning rod. Reed, you idiot genius. [[A flash of light, and then nothing.->trauma diner]]

Tony — the only other person Reed could think of who wouldn’t need a lengthy explanation of loop quantum gravity and why the term time loop was really not quite accurate to describe the matter. Although he had to anticipate the discussion of most accurate time loop pop culture that it might devolve into. Time was of the essence, they needed to reach someone who could help them without being able to communicate regularly. A few keystrokes to enter in Iron Man’s unique multiversal signature — boy was Reed glad he’d started that database years ago — and the transmitter began to self-calibrate, orienting and reorienting itself, before the recording clicked on for a message to be sent. “Tony,” Reed said urgently, “Laura and I are trapped in a pocket dimension. The loop quantum gravity won’t let us escape. Tony — get to the Van Allen laboratory, you’ll find everything you need there. The technology, it’s not mine, but look at the annotations I’m including in this message. We’ll have to talk about the implications after, there’s a mind less trustworthy than ours working on this, Tony, and we need to monitor the threat. Please. Help.” The machine shook, charged, shot a bright blue beam of energy up into the fog above them, presumably into the atmosphere and beyond after that, but there was no way of knowing for sure. [[All they could do was wait.->Welcome to Geraldine's.]]

Sue, Johnny — first and foremost, they needed the team to know they were safe. Together, the pair of them would be able to find a way to rescue Reed and Laura. His faith in his family was always the thing that had saved him, after all. A few keystrokes to enter in the Invisible Woman and Human Torch’s unique multiversal signatures — boy was Reed glad he’d started that database years ago — and the transmitter began to self-calibrate, orienting and reorienting itself, before the recording clicked on for a message to be sent. “Sue, Johnny,” Reed said, taking on that instinctive tone of affection and urgency, “Laura and I are trapped in a pocket dimension. Well, a time loop. Actually that’s not quite accurate, you see…” He caught himself about to dig into his scientific quibbles, and course corrected. “That’s not important. We’re safe here, but we can’t escape on our own. Please, send help.” There was more to say — there was always more to say — but Reed was confident his family would hear everything else in his tone. The machine shook, charged, shot a bright blue beam of energy up into the fog above them, presumably into the atmosphere and beyond after that, but there was no way of knowing for sure. “Well,” he said, watching the beam fade out of sight, “Let’s call this a successful first mission for the //New// New Fantastic team.” [[Now nothing to do but wait.->Welcome to Geraldine's.]]

Laura wobbled on her bar stool, raising a glass to the room. "To all the dead bodies just waiting to drop," she slurred, to the group of patrons, each one enjoying their lives lived linearly, one day after another, not one day and then one day and then one day again. Maybe Laura was tired of it, this repetition. They'd kept going to Geraldine and where did that land them? Nowhere. That's where. Today, it landed them in a bar, seedy and dark, and thriving with underbelly life. Angry looks turned her way as she interrupted the music, shouting over it. "That's you, and you, and – oh, definitely you, very soon," she said pointing to one of the older gentlemen giving her the worst look of her life. "And all of us! We'll die, and then ha ha ha, we live again!" Laura smashed the bottle of beer on the floor, a punctuation to a sentence that didn't seem to end. Unfortunately, at the time, a small man happened to be walking by, the glass shattering at his feet. A small, serious man. Dark sneers, and as he jumped back from the bottle, he let out a yelp, immediately drawing up his fists and lashing out at the nearest target. That target was Reed’s face, approaching on dizzy limbs, wobbly from both the alcohol and the way inebriation put his plasticity just slightly out of control, making him liable to bend and ripple with every motion, slightly beyond the clumsiness of any drunk man. “Another trivia night, another trivia win,” he said, tripping over his words just slightly as he came back to his friend in victory. Sure all the trivia questions were the same every night, but after so many loops even Reed had lost count, he was taking his wins where he could find them, and right now he found them in single-handedly defeating the trivia players with an intensity and precision that was unsportsmanlike to say the best. And then there was a fist coming at him, inexpertly aimed and therefore almost too easy for Reed to duck away from out of muscle memory if not good sense. The man’s punch overshot itself, sent him crashing over the back of a nearby booth and over the table of a poker game, sending chips and cards flying, and the players flying out of their chairs in upset. “Great Scott,” Reed said, deadpan as he watched chaos begin to unfold in a chain reaction. He had to lean back against the bartop next to Laura just to take it all in, reaching for a nearby drink -- it didn’t matter whose -- and taking a drag before it got knocked over in turn. “Haven’t had a bar fight loop yet,” he observed in what would have been the tone of a scientist, disinterested and incisive, if he hadn’t been slurring as he said it. [[Sit this one out.]] [[Join in.]]

It took a beat longer than necessary for Reed’s brilliant mind to come to the next logical conclusion. “We should get outta here,” he suggested to Laura, nodding his head towards the exit with a gesture overly-large, given his elasticity and inebriation. “Where do you think you’re going, big brain?” someone asked, and when Reed looked up, he had just a split second to recognize one of the losing trivia team captains, breaking off a beer bottle into a sharp glass edge. Reed sighed, as the players closed in around him. [[“Well, this is a new one, at least,” he had to admit.->trauma diner]]

"Issa new one!" Laura shouted with excitement and lack of volume control that came with being drunk. There was a delight in doing something new. She patted Reed on the shoulder, before letting out another delighted laugh. Grabbing hold of Reed's shirt, she pulled him away from the bar. "Hey!" she shouted at the nearbest fighter, currently being strangled by another taller woman. "This guy, he's an MMA pro!" Patting Reed on the back, she shoved him into fray. She wasn't going to let him miss the opportunity to live through a bar fight, but she doubted for just a minute that they hadn't lived through this before. [[As another fist]]

Geraldine was perfectly still as Reed rounded out the story with a “...so, we really weren’t at our best when we finally arrived here again.” She let a weighty pause carry through the room, unmoved by any uncomfortable shifts from the guests, uncomfortable with the silence, until she spoke again. “This is a cosmic test of strength and valor,” she hissed at them, “And you’re spending it starting bar fights?” If she had yelled at them on their last time ‘round, it clearly hadn’t been enough. “No! Get out,” Geraldine demanded, waving them off, packing up her tarot cards and crystals, even going so far as to yank the delicate silk cloth out from under their hands as she cleared off the table, absolutely done for the day. “Learn some better lessons before you come back here again.” (set: $lesson to "learned") [[The lesson of the Two of Wands->Loop 04]] [[The lesson of the Tower]] [[The lesson of the Fool]]

The fog around them would help keep them out of sight of security, police, anyone who might want to stop them, but she doubted it would help much with their own visibility. They'd already learned how quickly they'd be spotted, but having timed the police cruised that went by at exactly 3:12 PM, starting to climb at 3:15 allowed them exactly twenty minutes to get up to the top. It was now 3:33, and they were only halfway there. “We need more altitude,” Reed shouted up to Laura — and this time it wasn’t deja vu, they really had done this before, the quantum loop narrowing, beginning to affect not just their surroundings but their own minds. More and more Reed found himself repeating the same words, going to the same places. [[How many times would he wake up in Van Allen’s lab and head straight to the diner?]]

"Yes you're both fools," Geraldine said, a comment that would have been vicious if it hadn't been so bitterly true. "But what kind of Fool?" [[Upright.]] [[Reversed.]]

“Since last time we were here, Geraldine,” Reed began, settling into the chair across her table that he’d grown so familiar with, “We have learned some… hard lessons.” It was an understatement to say the least. No matter how each of their loops ended, in chaos or in a quiet night before sleep, at the lab or in a bar or plummeting from the top of the Golden Gate Bridge, alone or with each other, Reed had spent a countless number of them frustrated, stuck, at a standstill. Forward was the direction of knowledge, onward was how progress was made, and destiny always lay ahead — so to be stuck in a loop felt at odds with all the things Reed had built his life around. [[What was a life without forward movement?]]

What was he looking for. Reed had to admit the question was not just unfamiliar to him, it was almost eerie in the way Geraldine seemed to ask it with an insight he couldn’t explain. Very good at her work, he surmised, rationalizing away the sense of depth he got from her large eyes. “Oh, let’s say affirmations,” Reed said, even as his mind was considering several possibilities for her last offer — confirmation of something he assumed to be true. “General advice. Am I on the right path, no trouble coming up, that sort of thing. A check up.” Geraldine said nothing at first, but the way her eyes seemed to flash in the changing light gave the impression that she was laughing at him. “How can you ask if you’re on the right path, doctor, without first checking to see if you’re on a path at all? Of course you have trouble coming up, lessons to learn. The first of which is learning to ask better questions.” "Better questions," Larissa repeated, glancing aside at Reed. Between the two of them, they were two beings made of questions. Whether the answers were science or following the truth, they were made to ask ask ask until coming to some satisfying conclusion, whether a solution to a problem, or the nut of a story. There were no two better people to ask questions than the two facing Geraldine, and yet, here she was, telling them to ask better questions. [[How do we know if the questions are better?]]

"How do we know if the questions are better?" she asked, turning back to Geraldine, who offered a sort of placid smile, aware that this was a roundabout conversation, water first being poured onto the prayer wheel to start it spinning. "You'll know," she returned, with a soft sigh, "When the answers become clearer on their own, without you needing to ask anymore." Reed almost laughed. “I think my dissertation committee used to tell me the same thing,” he observed wryly, amusement shining through in his tone. It was unexpectedly unsurprising -- not what he’d thought a trip to a psychic would reveal, but still a part of the larger themes of his life, always being urged to ask better questions, invent better problems to solve. If anything, Geraldine’s refusal to do any hocus-pocus //fear death by water// performance was affirming, in a roundabout way gave him more faith in her. “Alright, how about this,” he said, aware that he was negotiating with someone, or something, that couldn’t really be negotiated with. There was little orthodox, little religion, in Reed, but there was still respect and awe for the things he didn’t understand. “What’s the most important thing I can do in the next, oh…” He glanced at his watch, considering. “...Let’s say the next twenty four hours. What should I make sure to do?” Geraldine almost sparkled with a better question asked, quirking an eyebrow at him although that was far as her face changed at all. “Simple, measurable, actionable,” he observed of his question, “Although perhaps not ambitious enough.” An assessment that had Reed frowning slightly, even if she was correct in it. Still, she granted her answer: “Buy your friend a drink in thanks for bringing you to me. Don’t touch that thing you were working on -- it’s a bad time for progress. In fact, why don’t you stop thinking about making progress at all, doctor. Try instead to just be here, now.” Ris perked up at the suggestion for a drink. She knew there would be more for Reed out of this exchange than for her, but coming out ahead with a free drink was always a perk. "Just be here, now," she repeated, looking aside at Reed with a very sage nod. "Paying for your friend's drinks." Geraldine held up a hand, cutting off her play for more drinks with the efficient gesture, the way her deep blue eyes squinted briefly at her. [["Where do we want to start?"->pass thru]]

Pouring himself a coffee, Reed idly scrolled through Van Allen’s phone — not out of a desire to snoop, in fact, Reed preferred to be as out of the loop on the other man’s life as possible lest boundaries start to blur, but because it was a good idea to get a sense of what events might be popping up in the next week that would need a clever excuse as to why Van Allen was suddenly unavailable. Reed had to assume they both preferred he keep his impersonations to a minimum. Reed frowned slightly as the calendar popped into view. It was off-cycle for a shift, not the week he’d expected given the usual rhythms. After a few rounds of shifting, Van Allen had been good at blocking off the dates, keeping meetings and responsibilities to a minimum, but that time was noted on the week ahead, and today’s date was filled with phone calls and deadlines still pending, tasks Reed not only didn’t want to have to complete on the other man’s behalf, but couldn’t without far more information. He sighed, reluctant to either postpone them or take them on, but one in particular caught his eye. //Pick up Ris — visit the psychic.// Unexpected in several respects. Ris wasn’t a name that seemed familiar to Reed from what he knew about the other man’s life, and a psychic of all things seemed out of character for a scientist, an inventor like Van Allen. Well if that was what he was spending his time on that was his prerogative, but Reed would not be attending. He pocketed the phone, returning to his coffee and turning his attention to a wall of equations nearby. [[He waited.->Just wait.]]

While their friendship had escalated quite a bit over the past few months, Stella and Reed weren't phone call friends. That's was her first thought when she saw his name light up her phone. Her second? That something must be horribly wrong. Why else would he be calling her, especially in the morning? She picked up on the second ring, brow furrowed as she swiped her thumb across the screen and lifted it to her ear. "Hello?" He'd never quite get used to hearing Sue's voice come out of someone else's lips, both completely unrecognizable but still something about it the woman he loved. "Hi honey," he said, "Another week." It was almost nice to be able to shorthand it like that, just another strange, another fantastical, part of their lives. No matter how many adventures Reed went on with his family, the universe was always surprising him with something new. "There's a few things in the lab here I'm a little curious about. Mind meeting me here today?" Already his big brain could anticipate Sue's response. "I know, I shouldn't meddle, but just let me look." Her question of '//what's wrong//?' died on her lips before she could even get it started, too startled by the casual way Reed called her honey. Not only was that... well, completely wrong, it also was the exact opposite of what could be expected. Reed would call her Dr. Sawyer, but he'd never even shortened her given name out of familiarity. "You're," she started, then paused. "Reed, is everything alright?" "It's fine," Reed answered slowly, hesitating only because on the other end of the line, Sue had. Something was off, not because Sue wouldn't ask a question just like that, in a tone just like that, but because //nothing// was off. At least not yet. These shift weeks had a way of veering quickly into the strange, if not the very dangerous, all too quickly. A quick double check around proved to uncover no immediate threats of any kind, however. "Are you alright?" he asked instead, "Where are you?" "I'm fine," she answered automatically, glancing around as though she needed to verify her location, which she didn't Being called //honey// had thrown her off more than she wanted to admit. And everything was fine? Then why was he calling? That seemed like a rude question. "I'm home, just got here, but you said you want me to come to the lab?" //I'm fine.// It wasn't Reed's instincts as a superhero and genius that had him frowning into the phone at that answer, it was his instincts as a husband. That short response seldom meant everything was fine -- not from Sue at least, who would have at least a few additional details to share, even if they were, worst case scenario, the pointed observations of something he'd done wrong. A sinking feeling came over him. "Darling, it might be time for the identity protocols," Reed suggested, waiting for Sue to give him the right passcode they'd identified years ago after a few too many mistaken identity mishaps. Unless -- "Unless... do I have the wrong number? Is this... Stella?" [[Yikes.]]

//Darling//. Stella's eyebrows raised at that and she pulled the phone away from her ear long enough to verify that it was Reed who'd called her. Not that his voice didn't prove it, but things were feeling strange - and not the kind of strange they'd been dealing with in recent months. "Yes Reed," she said patiently, pinching the bridge of her nose. "This is Stella. Who were you trying to call?" "Stella," Reed repeated, slumping down at a nearby lab bench and pressing a hand to his forehead. Exactly the kind of situation he'd been trying to avoid since these shifts started happening. Although once a month they might have to share a physical form, Reed had assumed he and Van Allen were under the same agreement to keep their social lives very separate. "Stella." Not Sue. //Where was Sue?// Not enough time to think through these implications, Reed had to focus on just getting off the phone without any further damage done. God, he'd called her pet names. "I'm terribly mistaken," he said, suddenly nervous, ill at ease, fighting the ridiculous instinct to alter his voice to sound, somehow, more like the other man. "I... misdialed, I must have hit the wrong contact, I was trying to reach my wi--" Nope, wait, Van Allen wasn't married. "Team member. Just a team member. I apologize for the inconvenience." "Yes Reed," Stella repeated, just as patient the second time around but starting to worry. "It's Stella." How many hours had he been in the lab without getting any sleep? When was the last time he'd eaten? Had something to drink that wasn't coffee? Those were all standard questions when it came to Reed, but definitely required consideration when he was going on like he was. "Are you sure you're alright? I can come by, if you want." Reed froze in a sudden fright. Pretending to be Van Allen on the phone was bad enough -- there was no way he'd do a decent impression in person. "No, no, that's not necessary," Reed said, striving for assurance as he waved off Stella's concern, "I'm perfectly fine. You know me, I can be so..." God, he really did not know much about the other man except for his research. How had Van Allen even earned this amount of care from Stella? Going through the man's phone could only tell him so much. "Scatterbrained," Reed decided on, knowing the same would apply to himself at least. "No need to come by. Actually I was just leaving anyway." Reed froze in a sudden fright. Pretending to be Van Allen on the phone was bad enough -- there was no way he'd do a decent impression in person. "No, no, that's not necessary," Reed said, striving for assurance as he waved off Stella's concern, "I'm perfectly fine. You know me, I can be so..." God, he really did not know much about the other man except for his research. How had Van Allen even earned this amount of care from Stella? Going through the man's phone could only tell him so much. "Scatterbrained," Reed decided on, knowing the same would apply to himself at least. "No need to come by. Actually I was just leaving anyway." The sigh of relief that Reed exhaled was deeply felt, but nonetheless, he hoped the sound of it hadn't made it through the phone receiver into Stella's ears. She just sounded so hesitant, like she could tell Reed was making excuses but willing to trust him enough to let him have it. Once again Reed was struck with thoughts of Sue, of her exasperated willingness to let go and trust her husband no matter what the odds, and maybe that was the reason why instead of hanging up directly, Reed caught himself doing his best Van Allen impression and saying, "Stella, no matter how much time I spend at the lab, you must know, you're incredibly important to me and always on my mind." Words Sue had deserved to hear herself far earlier than Reed had realized to tell her, and if he could stop Van Allen from making that same mistake, regardless of who Stella was to him, then he'd count it as useful meddling. "And I appreciate your understanding, truly. Goodbye." [[Hang up the phone already.]]

Too close a call. With nothing to do but puzzle over the implications of Sue’s absence, the idea that Reed was somehow, unexpectedly alone, he remained in the lab. [[The day passed->Just wait.]]

"Oh," Laura said. //Fuck fuck fuck.// That's right. Larissa couldn't drive, and she didn't have a car, and it wasn't likely for her to learn overnight. "Yep. You are totally right, you're driving, and we are going to see Geraldine, and it's gonna be super fun, because she's going to predict our very fun futures." The future that wasn't looping, the future that maybe meant they were out of this stupid repetition. "Right?" She winced, hoping she hadn't botched it again. “Our very fun futures,” Reed agreed cautiously. What a luxury that seemed — a future at all, instead of the same loop replaying endlessly. No way out of the loop unless he started taking chances, and the fact that Larissa had interrupted a repeat with a call seemingly of her own volition felt like a tell. He had to take not a chance but a calculated risk. “Larissa, my friend, what if I told you a very fun future seems like it will never come?” "Well, that would be very bleak, Reed," Laura said, with a frown. But as she looked at the same dishes in the same sink that she'd cleaned every day and was at the point of considering throwing in the street. But something in the way he phrased it, something felt like a tell, and Laura furrowed her brow. "It does feel like I'm stuck in a bit of rut lately. Hamster in a wheel…" “Yes, I know the exact feeling,” Reed said. There was the feeling like something unlocking, something coming clear. “We’ve got to start breaking the cycle, wouldn’t you agree?” He hesitated, before deciding to put all the cards on the table — worst case scenario, he’d wake up to a blank slate tomorrow. “Larissa, what do you know about loop quantum gravity, vis a vis temporal pocket dimensions?” "Loop - quantum - gravity," Laura repeated. This was too much, and she wasn't really sure if Larissa would understand this either. "Uh. They're … totally dope? Real hip. They're … what are they? A temporal pocket dimension? Like a —" A bell must have dinged. A lightbulb must have light up. "Oh." Laura paused before whispering into the phone as if someone might hear. [["Like a time loop?"]]

“A time loop,” Reed confirmed gravely, taking a beat to let it sink in before he couldn’t help himself, adding, “Although actually that’s a little bit simplistic. You see, we can’t be certain that space-time is quantized, in the sense of space and time being packaged in minimal lengths or periods, so to call it a loop, per se, discounts the very small intervals for which we need both quantum mechanics and relativity to explain things. I bet if I had some equipment, well, better equipment…” He cast a disparaging gaze at the machine parts around him, only to realize quickly he’d fallen off into his own thoughts. “A time loop,” he repeated, as if cutting through his own nebulous explanation. “Do you have any personal experience? Please don’t say they’re ‘real hip.’” This experience was, thus far, exceedingly un-hip by any empirical measurement. Laura felt her eyes glazing over as he talked, and it was a long moment after he asked her a question that she finally found herself again. "Oh," she said, "Me? No. Not that I'm aware of. But — wait. Are you stuck in a time loop? No one else is. Everyone keeps repeating themselves. But … you're not. I'm not. We're — are we stuck in a time loop together, is anyone else in it?" The relief that Reed felt in hearing the woman confess to the same observations he’d made was instantaneous — had Reed even realized how lonely he was prepared to feel, the only unstuck person in time? “Well,” he said, hedging slightly before taking his second gamble, “That depends on who I’m talking to. Is this Larissa? Or someone else?” No one else had shifted, but no one else was unstuck in time. Reed thought about the contact photo that had appeared on the phone, trying to focus on that fuzzy feeling of bringing another face into focus. [[“...Could this be, perhaps, Laura?”]]

Laura paused. She didn't know if anyone would know who she was. She didn't know if she fully knew who she was, and it was all very weird, and she didn't know if she liked it. "Um," she hesitated, "... I woke up like this. I don't know — I didn't mean to steal her body, I didn't … I just woke up like this, and in her body and in her room. Is this not part of the time loop, is this – what do you – who are you, are you not Reed? Are you someone else?" The panic hitched into her voice, as she struggled to come to terms with a lot of different information and stimuli at once. It was a little unfair of him to be smiling into the phone, but the joy of not being alone in either the time loop or the shift was too much to resist. “I am Reed,” he promised, trying to soothe her, “Dr. Richards, specifically. Laura, my God, it’s lucky to find you.” An ally, a lifeline. "Laura Kinney," she said, uncertain about whether she was meant to tell someone she wasn't who she was supposed to be, but if he was who he said he was, "Reed Richards?" She blinked a few times. "You're Valeria's dad." Valeria felt like a fuzzy distant memory, someone she knew she knew but couldn't remember how. Couldn't remember where or why. Something just outside her grasp. "It's lucky to find you, Mister Fantastic," she said finally. [[Together, they’ll figure this out — but not today.->Welcome to Geraldine's.]]

Something shifted around them, nothing changing except a sense of time, dimensions imperceptibly folding, collapsing, looping around themselves, and no matter what answer they gave, they weren't going to receive a reply in this timeline. [[Palm reading.->Reed v Reed]] [[The Hermit — you need to take this journey alone->Loop 01]] [[Two of Wands — you are not ready to make your move, plan before proceeding.->Loop 02]]

“Well,” Reed volunteered, after an affirming glance towards Laura as if to confirm wordlessly they were on the same page — after all, a question like this wasn’t to be wasted. “We’ve been to that bar before, haven’t we? Looping entanglements, the fallacy of linear temporality, yes, yes, but we have, haven’t we?” The chance to get Geraldine to confirm one of their many hunches, to learn something about the nature of how quantum loops worked, Reed couldn’t resist. [[Geraldine prepared to answer, a heavy sigh on her expression.]]

“Turandot is the most adventurous of Puccini’s operas,” Roscoe bellowed in his deep voice, placing down the glass he was polishing with an argument-underscoring thump on the bartop, clearly considering that the final word in the matter. Undeterred, Reed grimaced in his disagreement. “It’s a flawed masterpiece at best,” he insisted in that I’m a scientist, take me seriously tone, as if he was begging the bartender to see reason in the matter. "Reed, Reed," Laura said, squeezing her friend's arm gently, sensing from Roscoe a new foreboding sort of menace. "The man has a Ph.D. of vocal pedagogy. He knows his Puccini, and I wouldn't start questioning it." She looked up at Roscoe, who huffed even as he seemed to puff up at the same time, glowering down at the faux MMA fighter. "Turandot is more than a flawed masterpiece, it is a message to the very soul of every human aching to find love, to learn and grow — and to know your own limits, and avoid repeating your mistakes," Roscoe returned, before tossing his towel up on his shoulder, and retreating to his corner again, unwilling to argue with a man who could not see through to the heart of the opera, for lack of his own. Watching the esteemed vocal pedagogy scholar retreat, Reed frowned slightly. “Avoid repeating my mistakes,” he echoed, unaware of how personally he’d made Roscoe’s words. “I feel as if I’m being taught a lesson.” [[But not quite learning it.->Welcome to Geraldine's.]]

“Well,” Reed volunteered, after an affirming glance towards Laura as if to confirm wordlessly they were on the same page — after all, a question like this wasn’t to be wasted. “What we can’t figure out is what Van Allen and Larissa were looking for here. What did they learn?” [[Slowly, Geraldine began to smile.]]

“I feel as if I just learned a lesson,” Reed said, trailing along the sidewalk outside of Geraldine’s with the psychic’s words still echoing in his ears. “I mean, I know it’s for Van Allen and Larissa,” and Reed hoped the other man would take the caution offered to him — in fact, he would ensure it, “But I think there was a little something in that for us too.” How many loops had they gone through, he wondered idly, and never thought to get their fortunes told. That rare joy, finally something new. Laura caught a sideways look at Reed, with an uncertain smile. There was a lot for her to learn, hiding in this form, being Larissa and Laura at the same time. She didn't know if it would last, if she would keep waking up like this, in this body, in this day. But at least, if she didn't she had a worthwhile companion. "I think so," she said, tucking her hands into her pockets as she looked back at the doorway. "I think the biggest take away for me is that you owe me a drink," she added finally, a rueful smile as she turned back to Reed. "Psychic's orders." “I’m done trying to escape my fate,” Reed laughed, imagining Van Allen trying to weasel out of the same debt to Larissa an inadvertently causing the collapse of gravity that kept them repeating this day over and over until the matter was settled. “Just no bar fights this time around,” he said, narrowing his eyes almost playfully at her. Something had come loose in his chest, no longer bound by the heavy weight of pressure, taking on all the responsibility of trying to engineer an escape. It was easier to just be a friend to Laura in this moment, laugh about what they’d been through, and make his peace with the idea that they’d be awake here and now again tomorrow, knowledge of Larissa and Van Allen’s prophecies but no responsibility to enact them except for themselves. [[It felt joyful, almost peaceful.->Welcome to Geraldine's.]] (set: $lesson to "learned")

Well, it had been adventurous and elucidating, even peaceful, perhaps rhythmic once Reed had given up on the idea of escape. When he could set aside that desire to control the situation, solve the problem, there was a sort of luxury to linger in the same day over and over again, free of dire consequences, nothing to pursue but what he wanted. He missed his family no less in the day to day, how could he, but there were distractions. Infinite chess games, a lecture on Turandot and the meaning of an opera masterpiece, chances for kindness towards the people (or birds) that had been enemies on the last go-around. And Laura, an ally and a friend and a member of his family in her own right. Geraldine studied them both, her eye on the lines around their eyes, the change in their demeanor, the change in their stances. "Hands," she said, holding hers out. Laura held out her hand for the psychic to skim, curious if there had been any changes in her palm, if experiences can change the lines, change her fate. A spark of something electric followed Geraldine's fingers as she traced the lines in Laura's palm. "You are through the first door way, my dear," she said quietly, "But now a hallway of doors are ahead of you, and many things to discover behind each one. It will take time, and sometimes you will be in the dark, waiting for the light. Just keep your patience, soon the lights will remain on, and you will fully understand the past and the future." Laura's head tipped to the side as she wondered if Geraldine read her palm, or Larissa's. Whether this was her destiny, or the woman whose body she inhabited. Geraldine lifted her gaze to Laura with a knowing frown. "Both," she added, quietly. "Both of you." Laura glanced aside at Reed, feeling her stomach flop. Questions had sprung to Reed’s mind at the prophecy Geraldine gave to Laura, but he voiced none of them — knowing all too well when something wasn’t his business. Laura would take that journey on her own, and he’d volunteer his allyship and support however he could, but only when asked. It was the kind of respect he afforded all his friends, the knowledge that they always had a home on Yancy Street with the Fantastic Four when they wanted it and help when they asked, but more importantly, the faith that they were capable in and of their own right. He couldn’t imagine anyone stronger than Laura, after this all. “Hands, doctor,” Geraldine admonished, turning to him and catching him thinking about Laura’s accomplishments instead of his own reading. “Whichever doctor you are.” Her words set a fuzzy deja vu in Reed’s mind, wondering how many loops he must have forgotten by now, but he offered his hands nonetheless. “A better man for this journey,” Geraldine observed, eyes on his creased palms, “But loops ahead for you yet. Don’t ascribe to malice what is better explained by ignorance. And let go of the idea of universality. Seek council. Be kind.” Reed was considering, was reconciling what Geraldine had predicted against what he feared, trying to make it all make sense, but Geraldine had little time for that sort of processing. “You can go,” she said, a dismissive gesture of her hand. “One more thing,” Reed said, fishing through the pockets of Van Allen’s jacket as he spoke, “We realized, on this loop or the last one, you’ve done a lot for us. And we’d like to give you a token of our appreciation.” He fumbled for a pocket watch, found it, and pressed it onto the table with a gentle motion. Antique, with a factor of Van Allen’s time travel experimentation embedded within it. “So you can help the next set of travelers,” he explained. Geraldine’s eyes flashed, and her nimble hands reached out for the timepiece in a flash. “Ah, quite the gift,” she said, holding it up to the light. “And, just what I was looking for.” Had he expected that answer? Had he known Geraldine, like anyone, had an agenda? Reed’s mouth was opening to ask a question, but she was already closing her fist around the watch face -- there was a bright light, a tower struck by lightening, a fool reversed. [[When they awoke next, it was tomorrow.]]

You escaped the time loop! <a href="http://truefacts.insanejournal.com">Our perception of time’s flow depends entirely on our inability to see the world in all its detail. Quantum uncertainty means we cannot know the positions and speeds of all the particles in the Universe. If we could, there would be no entropy, and no unravelling of time.</a>

But this time it was different too — not heavy machinery, advanced parallax communication tech on his back. It was birdseed. “The seagulls are still further up,” he explained, careful this time not to stretch his limbs with too much ambition and end up knocking off the nest, end up flailing in the wind. But they weren't. As Laura clung to the tower, she already spotted a large albatross riding the spiralling heat from the cars below, drifting closer and closer to the pair on the tower. "Reed," she said, looking over her shoulder at the bird as a friend joined it. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Maybe she was repeating herself too, but when you've fallen off the same bridge innumerable times, a sense of caution bred some form of repetition. Suddenly, a pecking at her back, or rather, the sack on her back, tore a hole in the bag. A steady stream of birdseed began to pour out like hard-pitted rain, and suddenly what was two birds was now four, no, seven, a dozen, all diving through the river of bird seed. "Reed, abort, this is bad, we gotta go," she said, shooting a look at her companion, eyes wide. "I'm not willing to be Tippi Hedren for this," she said, but another bird slammed into her back again, talons tearing at the fabric of the bag. [[Don't panic!]]

“No, don’t panic, I’ve got it,” Reed promised, stretching an arm up beyond normal human reach not to take a giant leap to the top of the tower in a rush, but to offer birdseed on his palm morphing to take on the shape of a bird feeder, wide enough for all the seagulls to land. “You don’t really think this is a Hitchcock movie, do you?” he couldn’t help but ask, leveraging against the building to support his weight while the birds pecked at the seed. “Because given the number of times I’ve lost a hand, I’m inclined to think it’s a slasher flick.” Laura watched with wide eyes as his palm became a bird feeder, so strange, so easy. "It's Hitchcock, and I've got vertigo," she said, holding tight onto the tower as a bird dove head first into the bag on her back, quickly taking a few bites and zooming off again. "How do we get them to remember who we are? Does it work like that? We need corvids, they have mythic memories, they'll know us in the future." She continued to climb up towards the next level, looking for a wide enough berth to open the bag. Finally, using Reed's outstretched arm as some leverage, Laura pulled up to the landing and held out her hand for Reed. "We can do it here," she said, helping the doctor join her on the ledge. Careful to avoid the nest he’d hit on loops prior, Reed took Laura’s hand to haul himself up to the landing as well, a scattering of birdseed falling down into the fog — better it than him. The seagulls trailed after them, knowing a free meal when they saw one, making the top landing of the Golden Gate Bridge seem more like a city park than a feat of engineering. “I think,” Reed said with great thoughtfulness, “We have to just trust them.” The birds pecked at the seed as he scattered some around the landing, breaking up a few fights and shooing off the larger gulls to ensure everyone got some of the food. “You know, loop quantum gravity, a time loop, even I don’t fully understand it,” Reed admitted. It wasn’t something he enjoyed confessing — his default way of moving through the world was with the presumption that everything could be understood with enough time, enough effort. But here he was on loop number who knows, body feeling as if it had woken up for the first day of a shift but mind exhausted on an existential level. “Who’s to say the seagulls aren’t unstuck like us? Maybe they’ll wake up tomorrow and remember this just like we will.” If this was going to be a picnic, Laura was sitting down. She plopped onto her behind, feeling a little more steady at this height with her behind on the top of the tower. Tugging the bag from off her back, she carefully reached a hand inside, pulling a handful of seed out to spread across the landing. "I don't know if seagulls even understand time," she said, "Maybe they live outside of time. There is only food and flying. And sometimes people trying to disrupt their nests." A few seagulls seemed to trust their guts over anything else, pecking ever closer to the giant bag of seed the woman was digging into. Why shouldn't they get their fair share. "Here you go," she said, shaking the bag out to spill a bit more. "Reed, why don't you try asking them a question?" she joked, glancing aside at her companion. But maybe it wasn't a joke. Not really. [[Try your luck.]]

It might have sounded unscientific on a first pass, asking the seagulls a question, expecting them to have any advice or answers that Reed and Laura hadn’t been able to figure out on their own. But there was something to be said for the advantages of animals, the way birds flew in formation out of habit, the way instinct was just another word for culture. And after enough time spent plummeting to his death, day after day, from this very tower, Reed had to be humble before creatures whose gift of flight was an advantage he only wished he had. Still, that wasn’t the only humility Reed had to admit to. “I don’t know if I’m the right person to ask any more questions,” he confessed, sighing around the weight of it. “None of mine have gotten us anywhere.” No matter how much he considered himself a scientist, an investigator, a researcher — not even Reed’s best questions, most incisive work, had gotten them out of this situation. It was a disappointment to himself, and a failure to Laura, that Reed was faced with a problem he couldn’t solve — how could he let her down like this? “Let’s trust your instincts on this, chessmaster,” he said with a half smile, shooting the question back to Laura. If she could beat him at their infinite chess matches, she was probably just the mind they needed. Laura returned the uncertain smile, before looking back at the seagulls that seemed to eye them with a sort of judgement only used by those with very small brains or very large ones. Reaching into the bag, she got the attention of the nearest bird, its dark eyes shifting rapidly back and forth between her face and her palm. "Alright, let's try this," she said, very very cautiously stretching out her hand. "Seagull, will you remember me tomorrow?" As Laura studied the bird, she realized it looked familiar – not in the way that all birds look familiar because of simplified drawings of birds – in a very real way. This bird had seen her before. Maybe it was her gut, her instinct, maybe it was tricks or hopefulness or some form of punch-drunk optimism, but she had a feeling this bird had been the source of some previous downfall, literally. It studied her back, and even if she was fishing for some answer she couldn't fully understand, or if she was leading the witness, or putting her foot on the scale, whatever metaphor that made sense, something in her gut said, yes. This bird killed her before. And now, with trepidation on both parties, it was pecking cautiously from her hand. An improvement over pecking at her guts. "I think he will," she said after a moment, smiling at Reed. [[Tomorrow (today) they'll wake up with new friends.->Welcome to Geraldine's.]]

Laura could see black and white squares behind her eyes when she closed them at night. Hours and hours, training, studying, learning strategy, and here she was again, boxed in by Reed's pawns, her own queen caught out in a mess. "I'm literally never going to beat you," she said with a frown, her chin in her palm, trying not to pout. "You're the smartest man in the world, and I am —" Her eyes went wide, as she reached out for her knight, somehow forgotten, somehow lost amongst the dwindling crowd of ivory amongst the ebony. Sliding it into place, her gaze shot up to Reed's face as she declared, "Checkmate!" Reed had already been in the middle of delivering a long and encouraging speech to her about the power of perseverance, the righteous history of chess mastery and its relationship to grand leadership, the importance of never forgetting where your Knight was on the board, all set to strike the final line just as he struck down her King — right until Laura’s shout shut him right up with a snap. He blinked at her. He blinked down at the board. The super computer commonly known as his brain churned for a few seconds. When Reed glanced back up to Laura’s gaze, all the pretense of a teacher delivering a lecture was gone. “Laura,” he said simply, finally an honest feeling entering into his voice, “I accept my defeat. You did it. I am so proud of you!” And it was earnest, delighted to be defeated by her in fair chess combat, thrilled to see her celebrate her win. [[“Now, again!”->Welcome to Geraldine's.]]

Laura's head snapped back sharply, blood splattering. "Oh my god," she gasped, covering her face with her two padded fists. Her back hit against the metal fencing wall, and she regretted all of this ever so much, but the other woman was punishment embodied. As Laura struggled to run past her, skirting along the side of the cage, she looked into the crowd for a familiar face. She knew in the past that she had been in fights. She knew that they had spent the last few days training all day and all night, and with the hubris of two people who had joined a new hobby together and gassed each other up, Laura signed up for the cage match happening that night. "Reed!" she screamed as the other woman grabbed hold of her, slamming her face first into the cage. Laura's fingers dug through the metal, holding her against it as the other woman tried to tug her away and back into the gray. "Reed, this was a stupid fucking idea and I'm never forgiving you!" Laura snarled around her mouth guard, her eyes suddenly going wide as her fingers snapped free of the metal. "Reed, you fucking—" [[Fools.->trauma diner]]

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