Feb. 5th, 2017

h_hollister: (Say what)
[personal profile] h_hollister
"Jesus Cristo, it makes the ganglia twitch."

Hello, Nexus. Hello, world. Hippolyta Hollister is sick of answering questions, sick of dithering and snarking and dropping the ultimate sarcasm bombs on people. She's sitting cross-legged on a stool at the nearest pub, nursing something that looks like three fingers of scotch. She's buzzed, she's angry, and she's out of fucks to give.

"Don't you all get it? Reality is smegged. You come here, you ask small personal questions for your small personal worlds....and miss everything else. Reality is a-...a hologram. It's an ineffable card game played for infinite stakes by a dealer who smiles all the time. You ask questions to the Nexus, totally ignoring the fact that the Nexus is by nature totally blank."

She finally takes a breath, and runs her fingers through her hair.

"...If you've found the Nexus, you're clearly thinking these things. Don't deny it. The only question left to you is...how do I fit in? Which, to be totally honest, has been my main question for thirteen years. How do I fit into an infinite universe?

"Do fill me in, if you get a satisfactory answer."

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The Best (& Worst) Advice You Could Ask For.

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