Ever since that damn coelacanth slipped through, it's been like shaving basilisks trying to keep the probability strings straight. It's like being nibbled to death by cats.
It's clear, with a single tiny air bubble in it. I keep trying to make a jam jar joke about it, but I'm too busy watching the collapse the of the global financial system (or procrastinating by reading porn from x_tricks).
I just started this book, Nine Layers of Sky, and it opens with a marble. Blacker than night, oddly heavy, being searched for by beings with weird detectors...and then there's this 800 year old guy.
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I suppose that suggesting you flee the building before the rift gets any bigger is out of the question?
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Are you me, from an alternate dimension? I'm even willing to accept that I might be you, from an alternate universe.
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Oh my.
Excuse me. I have to go talk to a guy about a thing... the damned anti-paradox protocols must be on the fritz. Again.
Again?
It's like being nibbled to death by cats.
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wethey want you to think.no subject
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I suggest magnification to ensure that you haven't got a tiny civilisation, yeah.
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That reminds me of the keys coming off the wall.
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Is it oddly heavy?