“Tulpa.” The woman’s voice was calm. Impassive.
“A magically produced illusion. Or creation. An embodiment of an idea created through meditation.”
The speaker was an attractive woman with full lips, and pink hair. And translucent. It was obvious that she was a projection. Though were she was being projected from was less obvious.
The listener was younger, and more confused. “Uh…what?”
The speaker turned. “Tulpa” She repeated. ““A magically produced illusion. Or creation. An embodiment-”
“Nono. I heard you. That was a more general what.”
The projection appeared to think. “I see. What general what would you like answered?”
Ramona thought. She appeared to be in a library – but it was massive. She had no idea how she got there, where there was, or even why she was there.
“Ok – let’s start with where the hell am I.”
The projection turned her head and followed Ramona as she around the room.
“This is the Ancient Library of Alexandria. This is the most significant libr-”
“Sorry? The Ancient Library of Alexandria.”
“Yes.” The voice still impassive. Still calm.
“How? How did I get here?”
“Physically, you are not here, Ramona.”
Ramona stared. The projection continued. “Your physical presence is currently located at 124 Evalstone Grove.”
“That’s where I live.”
“And it is why you are there..”
“So how am I here?”
“Here is an imprecise term. Here is a construct, built for this purpose. Initially.”
“Am I dreaming?”
The projection moved, slipped a book from a shelf and opened in. Ramona moved so she could look too. Inside was a stream of data. “You are currently in REM sleep, yes.”
Ramona sat down.
“So this is just a dream.”
“No. Not just a dream. You are here for a reason.”
“A reason that would go faster if you stopped repeating my comments. You are here because you have to learn about Tulpas.”
“That’s the thing you were talking about at the start.”
“Yes. A magically produced illusion. Or creation. An embodiment of an idea created through meditation.”
“Yeah. That’s the thing. I need to know about them. Hmm.. Ok. But there’s one thing I want to know before we get started.”
“This is my dream, so it’s obvious that you’ll know my name – but why do you look like that?”
“Well, Ramona. This isn’t your dream. I know your name because you told me your name. And I look like this because this is how you looked when you created me.”
The projection looked down at the book. The readings were spiking.
“Ramona. This news is shocking you. You are dropping out of REM sleep. You will not return here tonight.”
“I created you? How?”
““Tulpa.” The woman’s voice was calm. Impassive.
“A magically produced illusion. Or creation. An embodiment of an idea created through-”
Ramona sat bolt upright, with a massive gasp.
Todays photo was supplied by Kostika