ah shit wait no, I just haven't eaten yet

which is lucky because I am a mess, a mess, and all who are near risk imminent contamination

examining your emotions, you feel nothing for him besides a sour sort of pity. Your source would like your help entering the family's home to steal the patent paperwork. you love a heist and acquiesce readily. they're rich as shit, there might be other things worth taking!

The source has bad news about the situation with university science: the evil bastard's family is intent on enforcing his so-called estate. several more postdocs have been disappeared from their labs, and the professor from before was hung this morning. you consider mourning your ex, but

He rides a segway. You carry on beside him on your bicycle. He seems intent on helping you remove some tracking device from your forearm, and does so with seasoned competence. He examines the wound critically and declares that it was only a mole after all. You are uncharacteristically appreciative.

it really is lovely, like a broad flat foliose lichen all in pinks and reds and yellows around the edges, and it grows among mosses or stones at a staggering rate.

a section zooms in to the botanists below, who seem to have interred the evil bastard in an old quarry. his ugly top hat is in his hand, waving feebly from among the cobbles. the cryptic plant he's patented is growing quickly over his face.

this is, you think to yourself, truly the best simulation you've ever seen, if indeed it is. a trap opens to reveal a transparent floor, and the landscape rolls on underneath, the sky now also illuminated, through a transparent ceiling, with altogether too many stars far too close.

the ship's psychic subjectivity engine is a vast apparatus at the end of a grand hall, and it enlivens with every color on its metallic fascia as your brain taps into its wavelengths, and seethes and writhes and bends about itself like a congress of snakes.

agents are repossessing the space ship (The Ruby) from a very popular MMO. the stork, ever helpful, encourages you to sit inside of it to experience the full effect of the game. unfortunately they take you with it. but the ship is still operational with your psychic abilities!

you figure you can send him too far beyond you down the hill by shining the light one way as you go another. imperfect, he catches on quickly, but enough to make some distance and lose him. Upon your escape you arrive at the school building, but the event has been rescheduled because

this is complicated by the fact that you're being stalked by a very fast and persistent crony of the evil bastard who patented the ubiquitous cryptic genus. he comes after you on a hillside and cannot see you but can sense the light emitted by your bike lamp and follows that.

psychic, and the protagonist of the dream. she is not married. The stork leads you to the edge of a classic new england town built inside a giant warehouse (because NH has no laws against). the protagonist must meet a source at the university building but has no map. that's you. find it.

You're in the field one day and are approached by a stork and three magpies. They act far too familiar, but this often happens. The stork is having trouble getting on T, but this you hope is outside the scope of what they want from you. Indeed, the professor's wife is now our age, a journalist,

students are snitching on their TAs. You're interested in your new engineering course but the homework takes way too long. the professor's wife is a pro domme who used to play in a band, possibly Portishead. You think you have a chance with her.

you have newly moved to New Hampshire where there are no regulations. an evil bastard terrorizes university researchers by patenting entire genera and then putting out a bounty on people who collect specimens in the field.

writing was the only thing in my life as a teenager connecting me to other queers. I lucked out to be on some great blogging platforms in the early 2000s which saved me from suicide more than once.