🅿🅸🅽🅸🅾🅽 🅰🅽🅶🅻🅴

Mark Gentry carefully put the loupe away. He was almost done with the complication. In an outstanding display of skill, he would actually have the tourbillon account for Galactic shift, while displaying the cycle of their Galaxy. It was a ridiculous effort simply because it wouldn't cycle for hundreds of thousands of years. Mark was showing off. The elaborate and incredibly tiny gearing was only him. Nobody could do what Mark could do, and nobody could command his prices. Mark was done for the day. A lifelong bachelor, after a brief visit to pornhub, he went to sleep.

"Pinion Angle"

Mark awakened because he heard the voice. He opened his eyes and jumped. The dark black being looked like it was simply cut out of our Universe as a silhouette. A humanoid shaped hole.

"The pinion angle is wrong. Correct this it's very irritating."

The shape disappeared. Even though Mark didn't get back to sleep for almost an hour, he still told himself this was just a dream.

Sunday. His favorite relax day. The phone never rings on Sunday. He didn't even know that was the reason he loved Sunday so much. He just knew he wanted to recheck the pinion angle on his new creation. Sure enough, very tiny brass shavings fell out of the work when he picked it up. Quick inspection showed the Pinion Angle was indeed off by 10 degrees. He had somehow ham-fisted a bearing slot. Expensive rubies were helping destroy his amazing gear.

Mark spent the twelve hours painstakingly remaking the secondary plate. He had no choice. This time, the Pinion gear bearing was properly aligned. As he slid the last parts into place, the entire watch started glowing brightly as it tapped into zero point energy.

"Thank you, that was so irritating" said a voice behind him.

Comments

ℍ𝕀!

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4 "Time to get the plug. We should get the plug." Said Boaz after finishing his treatise on his beloved sister. Boaz would have just done it and said nothing but Frank asked a question. Frank just fucking LOVED asking the kinds of questions of temporal beings that create spendy time buffers. It was like his gift. Getting directly to the core of things efficiently was prerequisite for a temporal being like Boaz or Jasher or Kay or even Stephy now that she had the hang of it. A non-temporal standard projection being that kept doing it artfully with thought was draining. What should have been the smoothest interaction possible became bogged down by automated probability alarms. Thousands of them. Frank was unknowingly choosing perfect outcomes and the system had no idea how to interpret it, so it over-reported. Not that Frank would or could ever know how irritating he was to the infinite. He'd never understand why. Frank wasn't temporal. He was just inconveniently the ...

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