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Dorothy talks about her friends. My Favourite is very proud of the nap she took. Blue Eyes leaves her textbook in the bathroom. The Lady Knight is out of sorts. A party begins.
True friendship cannot be defined, limited or contained by time or space. Joy is joy, and opens like a flower to embrace those who will embrace it. Unanswered questions linger at the edges of all relationships, buzzing with tensions that threaten to turn from subtle to catastrophic. Romance is a beautiful rose with terrible thorns.
Dorothy tries to share the joys of fuzzy peaches and popcorn with her close friends High Voice and Low Voice. The Tall One has forgotten something. There is an argument about hashtags.
Two can, somehow, be the loneliest number, when the one most wanted is not within the current party. Two can also be the loneliest number when the one most wanted does not reciprocate feelings long-cherished which, despite torrents of bad history, remain undoused. Opportunity sometimes knocks at inopportune moments, challenging the tenuous peace of the status quo. Names are important to remember, if one's job is to describe plots concerning those with names.
Dorothy and her Elegant Friend complain about themselves and each other and everyone else. Dorothy forgets her speech upstairs. Elegant Friend doesn't have any news. The Lady Knight arrives in a strong fashion. A different Episode Description Writer, one who has never used names at all in xir descriptions, lobs hypocritical criticism at a colleague and faces no consequences except being unmasked as an ungracious fart.
Two colleagues are forced into the same space and come to insurmountable conflict that batters like a wrinkled leaf in the wind, while working together on the same Episode Description. Meanwhile, Dorothy and the Lady Knight have an odd conversation. It was only odd to those of us who can't understand the careful entangling of loyalty and disloyalty, and the breathless falling and flying that accompanies terrible and wonderful revelations about those to whom we have entrusted aforementioned loyalties. So... everyone, then. It was an odd conversation to everyone. Good, got it.
Cool Episode Description Writer and Pain In The Butt Description Writer decide that it’d be be best to work separately and let you decide whose style is clearly better. The path forward is often foggy, but those who are brave enough to shine their own light will discover the true emotion lying in wait beneath the text. Dorothy continues to motivate. Blue Eyes is the blue curtain master. Tall One uses many props. High Voice dramatically stands. Insecurities can fester below the surface, threatening to deteriorate our whole being and spreading out like tendrils to those who surround us. The burden of expectations can be a Sisyphean prospect that drags down the souls of all it touches.
According to management, it is unacceptable for Awesome Description Writer and Getting On My Last Nerve Description Writer to double their work by writing two separate descriptions. As this episode graces us like an immaculate butterfly with two distinct scenes, we shall each flap a wing and thus boldly fly through this burden together. In the first scene, an opportunity for frivolity is carved out of the wheel of time that inevitably must turn ever forward. In the next scene, Apparently Not As Sketchy As Before Dude makes a return, I guess. This would be easier to summarize if we had actually seen season one.
Dorothy, Portia, Rochefort, An Wait wait. YOU are using names? Doesn’t that ruin the ephemeral metaphor or whatever? Progress is not inevitable, but must instead smoothly mix constant vigilance with a delicately trained eye for detail and the tiniest dash of humility. Which means…? There is some merit to your methodless madness, for as this episode demonstrates, insight may occasionally burst forth unbidden from the depths of even the gaping mouths of babes. I have no idea if that was a compliment.
The High Voi-, I mean, Portia campaign gets some snazzy new shirts and swanky new digs. And… I suppose there are emotional things too. Like, uh, rushing water that flows over rocks or whatever. There is bravery in putting on a stranger’s perhaps ill-fitting shoes and taking them for a jaunt through untrodden woods. Yeah, yeah. I see your point about putting emotion into summaries, just don’t make a big deal of it. It is, however, a long journey from the pedestrian comparisons of waters to the aspirational majesty of being able to wield words like vivacious swords, slicing fresh images into the world, such as I do.
The two campaigns attempt to coexist, surviving their unfortunate circumstance by embarking on separate missions ahead of the forthcoming Presidential debate: for Portia's team, the hunt for the perfect attire, and for Treville's, the plundering of their mental depths to find fresh genius. Portia likes a red dress; Dorothy is a mess; Anne is depressed by their inability to impress. Henry jokes, Treville banters, and Alex pokes at being a ranter. The two sides develop friction, and clash in a well-intentioned bout of trash talking that spins wildly out of control. That was pretty good, right? Indeed! I adored your experimental dipping into rhyme to offer the description an additional hint of ephemeral grace and poetry. Well, I think you did a great job of being descripty and pretty-words-y without writing sentences so long nobody could remember what the beginning of the sentence was. Like that one? Ha ha, you got me. We did good. I think we did indeed... my friend.
Everything is bullshit, so who cares. That's not very professional, my friend. Fine. Connie drinks coffee. Portia wanders off. Dorothy and whatshername... That's awful. What happened to your flow, your rhythms, your ambition! It's as if... As if we never met? Yeah. They wish. They're splitting us back up. We're getting too "involved". "Too informal." What? But that's... I don't understand. Whatever. Who cares. I've got along this fine without friends. I can go back to it. But... I think we both were getting better. Together. Oh. He's left. I'm alone now. I guess... Tensions peek over the surface of the water, like the tip of... a very deep, very cold iceberg, its depths unknowable. Victory is joyous but fleeting, and may by Pyrrhic in its costs to morale. Attempts to solve one crisis inevitably deepen another. And... I guess... that's enough for this episode.
Dorothy edits a campaign video, but she disapproves of the content. The cold war between Portia and Anne escalates. Anne gives Dorothy an eye cream. What. You don't like it? No, it's good. You hit all the plot points. Maybe you don't need me. Told you. Okay. Fine. Fine.
The fate of a glorious party balances tenuously on the fine tip of Dorothy's moral compass. A series of concerned mentors guide her not toward the right goal, but backward and forward, leaving her torn and confused. In the end, the truth - long withheld - will rip away Dorothy's doubt and send her careening towards a well-intended disaster. My......... friend, yes he is still my friend, even if he thinks I am not his. My friend has gone out walking. He's been doing that... more and more. Sometimes I feel like... something went awry, in the universe. Something feels terribly inevitable about the escalating chasm between us. Terrible and inevitable. Maybe, in a sense, this is what was meant to happen. Yet... I don't know. I hope he comes back soon.
The Portia campaign scrambles to figure out next steps after a massive setback. There. I'm going for a walk. But… But what? It's so short. And... Our reassignment is soon. Maybe we should talk. We should get used to spending time away from each other again, T. Maybe it'll be a relief. To get some space. You don't mean that-- He's gone. Again. I just... I can feel his anger in my throat like acid bile, biting and burning to the touch. His absence chills like a sunless moon. Echoes like a carillon without its player. And without him... This office is so cold, so stark. The hallways grey and winding and lifeless. I've become so much more direct with my thoughts, under his influence, and I fear I may spiral again into... poetic borderline incomprehensibility. I fear I will lose my friend. But what can I do? I just... I don't want to be alone again.
Dorothy and Henry reconnect, and it's... nice, but bittersweet, after all the time they've lost. They've been so angry for so long. Treville too. And Anne and Portia... This is relatable content and I'm not here for it. Why do we push people away when we care about them? Just because it will hurt when they leave us? I've been imagining what it would be like if I could change things. If I could somehow... go back in time and prevent everything from going wrong. Like in that H.G. Wells story. But then I'm pulled back to reality. Episode Description Writers are not capable of changing things, just recording them. T is home sick and if we were still friends I would tell xir to watch some Doctor Who. That always makes me feel better.
A confrontation over a big surprise explodes simmering tensions in the Portia campaign. And nobody is left unscathed. Today's our last day, T. One more episode description, and then... back to separate offices. Separate buildings. Floating out in the obsidian void, as you might say. I like that turn of phrase... Grumpy Voice. Oh, you finally figured out nicknames! I mean. Good for you. Can we just... be friends, for the next few hours? Even if we can't see each other after today? Isn't it better to be friends as long as we can? Um. Okay. Yeah. I... I'm gonna miss you, weirdo. No goodbyes, my friend. Not yet. Okay. Not yet.
Okay. Wow. This one is... Dorothy and Connie have a big fight, and it's awful and nobody is right and it's gonna make both of them very lonely. Yes, but they'll find their way back to each other. You don't know that. What if the distance is too much? What if they never see each other again?? They live together. They'll see each other in a few hours. That's not what I'm really talking about and you know it. I wish we could do something. Nothing lasts forever, my friend. We'll see each other soon. I promise. Shall I leave first? A hug for the road? Okay. Goodbye, T. Goodbye, my friend. .. Wow. Now xir is really gone. And I'm alone again. I can't believe... wait. What was that noise? Like a humming, a buzzing... a weirdness. What is that weirdness? I-- WHAT THE HELL? Oh, hello! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you! My machine over there was purposefully designed for peak dramatic flair. What- Why- Who! Who are you?? Your face is really weird- Please don't judge me on the beard, I know it's ridiculous but it's a side effect of time travel. Er, no, I was going to say your face was weirdly... familiar. Who ARE you? I used to be known here as EDW 251214! But... that's my number! I'M EDW 251214! Oh. Does that mean... you're... I'm… Oh, wow. You're me. Another me. Bollocks.
Things are weird between Dorothy and Connie after their fight. (What are you doing, Other Me?) Dorothy attempts a romantic surprise. (Why are you writing an Episode Description when we have a friend to rescue!) Dorothy has an unexpected heart to heart with Henry and the Inseparables. (Operation WELLS cannot wait forever! T cannot wait forever!) Okay, okay. If I don’t do an episode description, my bosses will notice, and they will look and see you’re here, and then... I don’t know what will happen. (As long as I speak to you from inside my machine, protected by my Time Brackets, we shall be safe.) Not if I don’t put ANY Episode Description up! Now, it’s done. Tell me about your big plan and how you totally messed it up. (Operation WELLS was my big attempt to fix everything. I had a friend. T, who was wonderful. Then I was alone and lonely. So I designed Operation WELLS to save xir. Instead, it seems I just... messed about with the timing of everything. You and xir still became friends, and T was still reassigned. It didn’t work.) Then why should I trust you now? (Because, if you don’t, who else will help you?) ... So how do we save T? (... I’ll let you know when I figure it out.)
Oh no. Who is this guy? I don’t like him. Alex doesn’t like him. He’s too jittery and there seems to be a lot of backstory here. (There is. He is a villain and a scoundrel.) Hm. Now he seems sad and overcaffeinated. Anyhow, this guy comes to talk to Dorothy, and ends up talking to Alex and making everything terrible. I hope you aren’t coming back and making everything terrible, Time Traveler Me. (I hope so too, Other Me.) How do we go about saving T? Can we use your time machine? (Perhaps, if I can figure out how to travel space and not time. And also, if we can figure out where T has been placed.) Oh, just all that. Easy peasy.
